#i'm also so thankful for everyone that trusted in me to make their designs and everything else. me melting <3333< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[viaetor]

dies. i spent the entire day giving my gfx blog (@aedearly) a makeover. you should check it out, especially because i now have a waitlist open for 2024! ~ i'll also be posting some sexy icon borders + colouring psds + promo templates there during january.

[mariasont]

hi!!!!

I'm soooo in love your work. bimbo!assistantreader wil always have a special place in my heart!!!

Now i have this of idea that i think can work for either aaron or spencer, but basically bau!reader who kind of always wears the same type of outfit in the field that's always really modest. Buttttt when they kind of like "know" it's just going to be a paperwork day she likes to were skirts... short skirts and Aaron/Spencer are just feral for them...

Can either be fluff of smut... I trust you indefinitely xxx

Short Skirt, Long Day - A.H

a/n: hi hi hi hiiiiiii!!! ugh thank u sm i kinda took this an interesting route so let me know what you think!!!! im also heavily thinking about writing a smutty pt 2 for this but id love to hear everyone’s opinions

masterlist

pairings: perv!aaronhotchner x bau!reader

warnings: 18+ MDNI, suggestive content, aaron being a straight PERV!!! (im into idk man), aaron imagining scenarios he didn’t shouldn’t at work, idk this is quite different from my usual postings but i kinda fuck with it

wc: 1.4k

Aaron Hotchner loved paperwork day.

Days like these meant the ringing of phones and panicked conversations were replaced by the only the sound of air conditioning (when it worked) and the occasional sneeze or cough. It’s the kind of morning he appreciated — time to breathe, to recalibrate without the air of an active case breathing down his neck.

But that's not why his pulse is thrumming more than heavily beneath his skin.

Hotch glances at the clock on his desk. It's early, too early for most of the team to be here yet, save for a couple agents whose faces barely register in his peripheral vision. His focus is elsewhere, fixed on a singular thought. Or, rather, on a singular person.

You.

Hotch leans back in his chair, exhaling slowly as a shameful type of heat rises to his face. It's a little pathetic, he thinks, how predictable he's become, it's not the work that makes these mornings bearable anymore. It's the anticipation.

The knowledge that, any minute now, the elevator doors will part, and you'll step out, wearing something that will completely dismantle his carefully constructed composure.

Hotch had noticed a pattern (of course he did, that was his instinct honed to a razor's edge). In the field, your outfits are a study in practicality: slacks, fitted jackets, muted tones, professional to a T. Nothing flashy, nothing that would draw undue attention. He’d even go as far to say you dressed more modestly than most.

But in the office, when the cases are shelved, and the team is left to wade through stacks of paperwork... it's different.

And it drives him insane.

The image takes root before he can stop it: the curve of your thighs, tantalizingly framed by a skirt that seemed designed to test his limits. The way the fabric molds to you when you move, clinging in places that his eyes are all too quick to follow.

Hotch exhales sharply, clearing his throat as if that could somehow clear his mind. It's unprofessional, he knows this, knows better than to let his thoughts stray so far from where they belong but yet…

The ding of the elevator pulls his attention like a magnet, and there you are. His grip on the pen tightens instinctively, the knuckles blanching as his gaze locks on you.

You're wearing that skirt today — black, fitted, and infuriatingly short, hugging your hips in a way that leaves nothing to the imagination.

He tells himself to look away, and for a second, he manages it — his eyes dropping back to his desk, his breath coming out slow and measured. But that reprieve is fleeting. His gaze flicks back before he can stop it, drawn helplessly to the curve of your waist as you laugh at something one of the other agents say.

You're too good. Too sweet. Too damn oblivious to realize what you're doing to him.

And he knows it's wrong, knows he's toeing a line he has no business approaching. But the way his body reacts to you, the pull you have on him, is beyond reason. It's instinctual, raw, and completely out of his control.

He calls out your name. "Could you come in here for a moment?"

You turn, blinking at him with wide, curious eyes. "Yes, sir?"

"I need you to grab something for me," he replies, his voice level, though every syllable felt like a tightly coiled spring. He motions towards the cabinet near the corner of the room. "The Marcus file. Bottom shelf."

He was a terrible terrible man.

Without hesitation, you step toward the cabinet, crouching slightly as you begin to sift through the lower shelf. The moment your body lowers, his eyes start trailing down where the hem of your skirt lifts, just barely revealing the soft curve of where your thighs meet your ass. 

Then, as you bend further, shifting your weight slightly to reach deeper on the shelf, the fabric stretches taut, clinging to your ass in a way that sends a jolt straight through him.

Hotch's throat feels tight, his breathing shallow as he drinks in the sight before him. You're so close, just feet away, and the angle offers him an unobstructed view. The shape of you, the smooth expanse of skin that's always just out of reach in the field, is right there, so achingly close he feels like his chest might explode.

He knows if you dipped any further, your panties would be on display and he couldn’t help but wonder what color you had on.

You’ve always had a meticulous attention to detail, choices leaning towards deliberate but understated at the same time. In the field, you favored muted tones — greys, blacks, navies. But here in the relative safety of the office you allow a little more personality, more femininity.

His mind turns to your preferences, pink, maybe.

Hotch swallows hard, pulse roaring in his ears. The thought gnaws at him, insistent and unrelenting, he needs to know.

“Careful,” he says, feigning concern. “You might need to check further back on the shelf. Sometimes the files get pushed out of sight.”

You glance over your shoulder at him and he swears he could combust. “Further back?”

He nods, leaning back in his chair to appear casual, though his grip on the armrests were anything but. “Yes.”

You turn back to the cabinet, shifting your weight again as you crouch lower, leaning further to search the back of the shelf. The motion sends the bottom of your skirt riding higher, and for a brief, heart stopping moment, the lace of your panties is on full display.

It was a pink barely there strip of fabric.

His mind betrays him, conjuring images he knows he shouldn't entertain. He imagines his hands on you, running over the curve of his hips, gripping your thighs, sliding that damn skirt higher until there's nothing left to hide. The thought of you like this, pliant and completely unaware of the effect you're having on him, makes his pulse pound in his ears. He wonders what you would do if he were to push those panties to the side and slide a finger in you.

You shift again, leaning deeper into the cabinet as your voice drifts back to him, murmuring something about not seeing it. His jaw locks, teeth pressing together as he fights to maintain control. His fingers dig into the armrests of his chair, the leather creaking faintly beneath the strain. It's a futile effort, though. The pressure building in his chest, his body, is relentless.

The heat pools low in his abdomen, simmering and insistent, a sharp pulse of arousal tightening every muscle in his body. He's painfully hard now, the evidence uncomfortably against his slacks, but he doesn't dare move. His mind a blur of want, what he wants to do to you, what he knows he shouldn't do, and the precarious line he's treading just watching you like this.

The tension in his body seems unbearable, and for a fleeting second, he considers how easy it would be to walk over, to let his hand graze your hip, to tilt your chin up so you'd look at him and see the wreckage you've left in your wake. 

But he doesn't. He can't.

Instead, he forces himself to remain still, staying rooted, the self-restraint biting and bitter. 

"Are you sure it's under here? I still don't see it."

Hotch's lips twitch, the smallest shadow of a smirk threatening to break free on his face. He leans forward, feigning surprise as he picks up the file from the corner of his desk.

"Ah," he says, waving the file. "Looks like it's been right here the whole time."

You straighten abruptly, brushing your hands down your skirt and turning towards him with a soft laugh. "Hotch! So I was practically upside down in that cabinet for nothing!"

He shakes his head, giving a small chuckle to match yours. Not for nothing. The satisfaction still simmers low in his chest, a private indulgence he knows you'll never suspect, the movement was far from wasted.

"My mistake."

"Well, I guess we all have our moments. Let me know if there's anything else you need, okay?"

When the door finally closes behind you, he exhales shakily, the breath spilling out like a confession. Leaning back in his chair, he presses his fingers to his temples, his entire body tense with the effort of restraint. He feels unmoored, like a man balancing on the edge of a precipice, one misstep away from losing everything he’s worked so hard to keep under control.

But for now, he’ll settle for watching, for imagining, for wishing, knowing full well that nothing could ever come of it. And yet, as he glances at the door where you’d just been, a part of him wonders how much longer he can hold out.

It’s going to be an impossibly long day, but the most troubling part of all is how much he’s starting to enjoy the torment.

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[meanbossart]

Ask Compilation: Blondes, feet, bowl-cut guardian lady.

He did not, they never had sex. But he was in love with her.

For sure. I think she struck him more like a teenager with the black hair and bangs, after the change (both visual and in attitude) she became a far more mature AND attractive person in his eyes.

PFFT, well, if you're saying they meet ALL of the criteria, I assume you mean both in looks and personality and hence be damn near his soulmate. DU drow could overlook weird feet (and a lot of other things, actually) if he were in love with the person in question. He would probably gently request they take better care of them, though.

Nothing special there, I'm afraid! He just has human-like skin - perhaps a little on the oily side but completely within the bounds of normality.

He runs a little hot, if that's anything. Oh! His hair is shockingly soft.

Correct! DU drow only (arguably) looks like a drow. He doesn't have their usual bone structure, height, or associated magical proclivities. He has some dark vision but its nowhere near as good as a drow's either.

I don't necessarily think all Bhaalspawn are the same way, but the Dark Urge IS quite different from the previous game's iterations. DU isn't simply Bhaal's child conceived with a partner, he's a piece of the god that supposedly slobbed off and grew legs and a face, pretty much. So yes, I do think that the Dark Urge at least is it's own unique thing.

The reason why he looks like a drow, is because he was placed in the Underdark upon creation. The metaphor I always use here is that if you place something infantile in a biome that is alien to it, it may try to adapt to it's environment to survive as it develops, to different degrees of success. This is why DU drow looks the way he does.

[MORE UNDER THE CUT]

You're welcome!

I've received a few snippets here that you can find through the #gift art tag! There is also the fic I'm in the process of writing called A Novel Experience on AO3.

It was just something I was compelled to do when I first drew him! The facial scars felt like they should lead into something else so I just made up a pattern on the spot, minus a tiny tweak here or there, it has stuck basically unchanged. All and any lore relating to the scars came later.

I get a lot of sweet messages but "thanks for your man's penis size" has to be one of my favorites. Thank you!

HELLO!

Thank you so much for the kind message! And that sounds like a fun dream, I love that your Tav got jealous of the attention ASTARION was receiving instead of mad that he had to share in the first place LOL

DU drow is desperately monogamous. He doesn't care what other people do with their lives but he's very much a "one and done" kind of person.

He would be willingly to participate in a threeway/have group sex with a partner, assuming the rules and regulations of said encounter were laid out clearly before or at least mutually understood between them. He would never want to see these people again after the fact though.

She does not, naturally I had no idea that this character was going to turn into anything when i made him, so I just... Made a lady. And since she was supposed to be a "guardian" I gave her a Joan of Arc type of look.

I've occasionally thought about changing this, but... Y'know, sometimes you don't need lore to be that in-depth, LOL.

The emperor gave everyone else a nondescript hottie he assumed they would trust, DU drow just got the same treatment. She's not even DU drow's type but definitely someone he would be compelled to take seriously yet not feel threatened by - so ultimately, her design does make sense.

---

That's all I have the energy for tonight folks, as always thank you for the many encouraging and sweet messages you send me, I'm sorry I can't reply to all of them! 😭

Have yourselves a great week!

[juustokaku]

Confidentiality - Chapter 1. - yandere!ATEEZ OT8 x f!reader

Introduction: Joining a peer support group for mentally ill was a good idea for the last two times you were there. Then it's only natural for the third time to go well too, right?

Pairings: yandere!Hongjoong x reader, yandere!Seonghwa x reader, yandere!Yunho x reader, yandere!Yeosang x reader, yandere!San x reader, yandere!Mingi x reader, yandere!Wooyoung x reader, yandere!Jongho x reader

A/N: This is my first fan fiction I have posted in years! I'm sorry that the beginning might bore you but I'm trying to make the next chapters more interesting. This was more of an introduction than the real story. Also, please, forgive me for my English. It's not exactly immaculate since it isn't my first language. Thank you to everyone who might stumble across this and read!

Word count: 3 207

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first time you had been shaking in your boots. The next time you had been shaking as much. And now, hopefully for the last time, you were still shaking. 

“What are you doing here? This is private property,” a relatively old lady opened the door you were standing behind and furrowed her thin brows. 

It was winter, and you were cold already, but the chill that ran down your spine at the woman’s words made you almost visibly shudder. Did she not remember you? 

Your hands inside your mittens squeezed into fists. Anxious tears welled up in your eyes. As usual, you couldn’t handle people being angry or even stern at you. 

You would have probably run away in a couple seconds, but the woman smiled at you suddenly and pushed the door wide open. 

“I’m just joking, dear. I remember you.” 

She was supposed to be a mental health professional but still she dared to joke like that while aware of your struggles. You felt a bit irritated but didn’t dare to show it to her. She didn’t mean to scare you. 

As you stepped inside the house your anxiety levels settled down for a moment. You felt a little more comfortable despite the fusty smell. The room was designed to look inviting and homey probably to make the patients relax. It was kind of like visiting a grandma which made you feel nostalgic. 

“I’m glad you decided to join again,” the woman smiled sincerely as you took off your boots and set them neatly on the shoe rack. 

You nodded, “I’m a bit anxious but eager to receive some help again.” 

It was the third time you had joined a peer support group for people who were suffering from mental health problems. The same woman who was in front of you had held it every time. You thought she was some kind of therapist but weren’t sure anymore. It was always hard for you to remember the introductions, because your mind was an anxious mess when meeting new people. 

She led you to the familiar room where all the previous support groups had been held too. 

 10 armchairs were placed in a wide circle. Their colors were restrained and mild so that people who had sensory issues wouldn’t feel uncomfortable. Well, they would probably feel uncomfortable here anyways due to other reasons, but it wouldn’t feel as insufferable as it could if the chairs were all bright, neon version colors of rainbow. 

The lighting was comforting and warm, a stark contrast to the cold lights of a hospital. 

As you were taking in the feelings of the room, the woman started speaking. 

“Uh, I have to tell you something,” she started, sounding apologetic, “All the other group members are new. None of them have been here before.” 

“Oh. Are any of them aggressive?” you asked nervously. 

The information that you hadn’t met any of the other patients stressed you out. What if one of them was aggressive and attacked you? 

“You worry too much, Y/N. They’re as stable and gentle as little lambs.” 

“If they were stable, they wouldn’t be in this group.” 

The woman chuckled a bit, her dimples showing as the corners of her lips rose in amusement. 

“Trust me. Everyone is kind and calm,” the woman assured you. 

Suddenly a man barged in and declared, “I have arrived! Get ready for trouble!”  

Your heart almost stopped and a fight-or-flight response was close to being activated. But after the initial scare he gave you settled down, you stared at the man with surprise and nervousness. 

Despite his attention-demanding entrance, his looks were a little less extra. He was really handsome though. He had black hair and casual clothes but your attention was caught by his mischievous dark brown eyes and a little mole under his eye. 

“What’s your name?” the man noticed your staring and rushed to you before you could run away. 

You barely remembered your name when the man was suddenly in front of you, a bit too close to your liking. Somehow you managed to mutter out your name to him. 

“Ah, Y/N. I’m Wooyoung,” the man introduced himself, “You have beautiful eyes.” 

If you didn’t forget how to speak when Wooyoung asked your name, you definitely did now. How were you supposed to answer when a stranger complimented your eyes out of the blue? 

Wooyoung continued inspecting your face and expressions intently. 

“Thank you... You have very... interesting eyes as well,” you smiled sheepishly. 

“That sounds almost like an insult,” Wooyoung pouted, “Aren’t my eyes beautiful too?” 

Oh no. Did Wooyoung think you didn’t think of his eyes as beautiful? 

“No, no! I mean yes, your eyes are beautiful. I just didn’t want to sound like a creep by complimenting you too much.” 

Wooyoung grinned at you, “Don’t worry. I know what you meant.” 

What was wrong with everyone, joking around like that? You had your first mini heart attack earlier when you thought the woman didn’t recognize you and now Wooyoung made you think you insulted him gravely. 

You took a seat on one of the armchairs. Wooyoung sat down next to you, staying quiet but glancing at you sometimes. Pretty often, to be honest. All of the time, actually. 

The woman started talking with him but you couldn’t focus on listening to their conversation at all. Just fiddling with your fingers nervously as you imagined how the other patients would be like. 

One by one, all of the patients arrived. Two of them were late which irritated you. You just wanted to get this session over with already. 

You didn’t dare to look at anyone but you had noticed to your horror that all of the other patients were men. Maybe they would gang up on you after this session and beat you up. That’s what men did, right? You had read a lot about those kind of things on the internet. 

“Alright kiddos,” the woman started, “My name is Charlotte Abbot, and I welcome you to this peer support group.” 

None of you were “kiddos” anymore but young adults. Charlotte probably just felt a lot older with all those wrinkles on her face. 

She went on and on about how the group works and the importance of confidentiality. A few members of the group didn’t focus at all and were looking around curiously to see who were the people that had joined the group. 

“Who wants to introduce themselves first?” Charlotte asked. 

Wooyoung raised his hand and started talking before Charlotte could give him a permission, “My name is Jung Wooyoung. My favorite color is black. My favorite fruit is strawberry. I like dancing. I like taking photographs. I like cooking. I like-”  

Charlotte interrupted him, “Thank you, Wooyoung. Let’s give everyone a chance to introduce themselves briefly before revealing more.” 

An extraordinarily stylish man raised his hand before he started speaking. 

“I’m Kim Hongjoong. I’m the CEO of my own fashion brand.” 

You almost gasped out loud. No wonder he was so stylish. He looked cool both in appearance and attitude. The look on his face was so focused that you bet he was a hardworking man. 

“My name is Choi San. I am a personal trainer. Nice to meet you all,” a man sitting one seat away from you introduced himself politely. 

You could definitely see that he was a personal trainer. His looks probably distracted all his customers from working out to look at him. 

“Jeong Yunho,” a tall man next to you smiled kindly, “I’m a police officer but I do a lot of volunteering at animal shelters as well.” 

You almost let your heart melt at Yunho’s words but you reminded yourself that he could be lying to make himself look more trustworthy. He could actually be a mastermind criminal who’d lure you into his trap with his promises of playful puppies and cute kittens. 

“Choi Jongho,” another man simply said. 

Everyone waited for him to continue but he stayed silent. 

“That’s it?” Wooyoung asked. 

“Shush, Wooyoung. If Jongho doesn’t want to say anything more yet, he doesn’t have to,” Charlotte reminded gently. 

“Song Mingi. But you can call me Mingi. Or Mingus Dingus,” another tall man chuckled. 

“Mingus... Dingus?” Wooyoung repeated, holding back his laughter. A couple other men in the room snorted too. 

Mingi looked a little offended and explained, “It’s my stage name. I’m a rapper.” 

You wondered what was behind Mingi’s sunglasses. Why did he wear them inside in the first place? Was he trying to hide something else than just his eyes? 

It was clear that none of them were here to hurt you. But all of these new people were making you nervous. No matter how disrespectful of you was it to suspect everyone, you couldn’t help yourself. 

“My name is Park Seonghwa. I like Legos and Star Wars,” a strikingly handsome man smiled sheepishly. 

His interests surprised you with their innocence. One would expect that an adult man with those godly looks would be partying and sleeping with models instead of nerding away with Legos and Star Wars. It was adorable though and made you feel ever so slightly more at ease with him. 

Silence filled the room as everyone was waiting for the next person to introduce themselves. Only the ticking of the clock on the wall could be heard. The silence felt uncomfortably long and you started wondering why no-one spoke. 

“Could any of you two introduce yourself?” Charlotte’s voice caught your attention. 

You almost wanted to cry out of embarrassment as you realized you were one of the two who were left, and you had been just sitting there like a fool. It shouldn’t be such a big deal but your ears flushed red nonetheless. 

There was a man who hadn’t introduced himself yet either. His gaze was turned to the floor. As if that wasn’t enough of a sign to tell he was uncomfortable, his body was tense and hands wrapped in front of his stomach as if to protect himself. 

“I’m Y/N. I like...” you paused. Someone could be here to gather information about you or use your information against you in the future. You couldn’t tell them anything too personal. 

“I like dogs,” you finally said. Damn it, that was too personal! Now that psycho police officer could lure you into a dog shelter and torture puppies in front of you just to make you suffer. 

Speak of the devil, Yunho smiled at you, “I like dogs too.” 

You fought the urge to scream and run away. His smile was charming but that was expected from a psychopath. Those kinds of people were good at manipulating. You had read a lot of books about it in order to protect yourself better. 

Nonetheless, you still smiled back nervously. 

“What’s your last name?” San asked. 

To be truthful or not to be: that is the question. You had purposefully left that part out of your introduction because you didn’t want to tell them your last name. What would anyone even do with that information? 

“Brokelsony,” you answered. 

Wooyoung snorted, “That’s not a real name, doofus. You just made that up, didn’t you?” 

You got caught. Your days were numbered now. How could you ever come back after everyone knew you lied to them?  

The way your eyes widened and you clutched the arms of the chair confirmed everyone that you lied. Liar, liar, pants on fire. Except you wanted your whole body to burn, not just your pants. 

“Come on, what’s your real last name?” Mingi insisted. 

Wooyoung joined in with a louder voice, “Yeah, we told our last names too!” 

“What are you so afraid of?” 

You were stressing out, gasping for air and digging for some explanation for your lie but you couldn’t think. All the noise and pressure made you dizzy. 

Suddenly Jongho chimed in, “You two chose to tell your full names out of your own will. It’s not an obligation to reveal your last name, so leave her be.” 

Everyone was shocked more or less. Jongho, who had been so quiet otherwise, had spoken up and defended you. 

He could have been embarrassed or regretful to have all the attention directed to him now but there were no emotions on his face. Only unwavering tranquility was like painted on his whole body. 

You couldn’t have been any more grateful to Jongho for the shift of attention and for being the voice of reason. The least you could do was to send him an appreciative smile so you did that. 

He did not respond to the smile. 

You really hated this day. Being embarrassed wasn’t an unknown experience to you but this felt just straight up humiliating. 

“Well, we have our one last patient. Would you introduce yourself?” Charlotte asked gently. 

It was definitely not a nice feeling for him to be the last one and have all the attention on him, you thought as you looked at the last man left. 

After a few moments he raised his gaze from the floor... only to look at his hands. At least you could see his beautiful face and birth mark a bit better now. 

“Yeosang,” the man spoke. 

Yeosang sounded almost apologetic like he was sorry that he was supposedly wasting everyone’s time by telling his name. You really felt for him. 

“Look what you did, Y/N. He learned not to tell his last name either because of you,” Wooyoung chuckled and received a scolding look from Charlotte in response. 

Charlotte looked around the room, probably taking in everyone’s names, and nodded. 

“You all have different issues like all people do. Even though some of you may have similar experiences or diagnoses, don’t forget that you have your own story to share, no matter how insignificant it may seem.” 

A few people nodded, acknowledging her words. You did too although you did not agree with her statement. 

Your story wasn’t meant to be shared. There wasn’t even anything to share. That’s what you wanted to believe at least. That you were completely healthy and normal, and that nothing bad had ever happened to you. 

“During next week we’ll start opening up more but today it’s time for something more exciting...” Charlotte smiled mysteriously, “Get into groups of three.” 

What was this? A pre-school? You did not want to talk to anyone. This was supposed to be a form of therapy not a blind date! 

You felt your palms sweat in nervousness. Who would you want to be in a group with? Or a better question, who would want to be in a group with you?  

The stress of realizing that probably no-one would agree to be with you made your chest tighten up. You cursed Charlotte in your mind for causing this. 

Every second felt excruciatingly slow but fast at the same time as you saw Hongjoong and Seonghwa already forming a group. You would be the last one left. No-one would let you into their group willingly. 

“Do you want to be in my group?” someone behind you asked like an angel who descended from Heaven to save you from the fate of being left out. 

Once you turned around, you froze. It was the Devil instead. 

Yunho stood there, towering over you, with that smile on his handsome face again. It was suspicious how kind he was.  

“Sure,” you nodded despite your head screaming at you not to. Carefully inspecting his expressions and movements, you decided he would be trustworthy enough now that there were other people in the room with you.  

“Awesome! Let’s go find another groupmate,” Yunho gestured you to follow him. 

So, you did follow him as he walked towards Yeosang who was standing by the wall, looking clueless and lost. 

You felt grateful that Yunho had chosen Yeosang out of everyone left because he seemed like the least aggressive person there. His arms were muscular but you wanted to believe he wouldn’t use them for anything else than carrying heavy grocery bags for old ladies. 

“Yeosang, do you want to join-” Yunho started but got interrupted by Jongho who had appeared behind you two. 

“Y/N. Join my group.” 

It was enough of a shock already to have Yunho ask you to be in his group, but now that Jongho wanted you in his group as well, you felt lost. 

You probably looked stupid as you were glancing between Yunho and Jongho, trying to figure out the situation, lips slightly apart. 

“No can do, dude. She’s mine... my groupmate, I mean,” Yunho crossed his arms. 

Even Yeosang raised his head to look at the scene with you as Yunho and Jongho started disputing. 

“Although you like dogs, you don’t have to treat her as one,” the shorter man sneered, “You’re not her owner, cop.” 

Yunho furrowed his brows. You thought of him as scary even when he smiled, but now that you saw him getting irritated, you felt horrified. What if he had a gun with him? He was a police officer after all. 

“I didn’t mean it that way. I just want you to find your own groupmates instead of stealing mine.” 

“Why are you so keen on keeping her?” Jongho raised a brow. 

“Why are you so keen on stealing her away from me?”  

Yunho’s question was just the right one to make Jongho silent. 

A slightly irritated expression crossed Jongho’s face but he just shrugged and said, “Don’t ask me.” 

“Who else should I ask then?” Yunho asked, confusion mixed with annoyance in his voice, but he received no response as Jongho just walked away. 

You watched Yunho’s expression from the side while he was still distracted by his own thoughts and emotions. 

His lips were pressed together tightly and ears bright red. It was clear he tried to control himself and his reactions, but you weren’t convinced by his act at all. 

You got to see him properly only when he swiftly turned around to face you. He did not touch you, thank God, but you were still terrified when you saw the look in his brown eyes. The same, usual smile was on his lips as he looked down at you but it was still vastly different. His eyes weren’t warm. His eyes were burning hot, full of fierce fire he had been hiding under the facade of a kind police officer who loved helping animals, and who knows what other lies he had come up with. 

His body towered over yours as he looked at with those eyes that made you want to curl up into a small ball and defend yourself like a hedgehog. 

But you weren’t a hedgehog and you couldn’t push out spikes to protect yourself as Yunho leaned closer. 

“I’m glad you didn’t run off with Jongho,” he chuckled. 

In the blink of an eye his expression was back to that weirdly cheerful one, as if you had imagined everything. 

Everyone was horrible. You were scared and worried. But you should have expected something like this already, you thought to yourself. 

After all it was just like you told Charlotte: if they were stable, they wouldn’t be in this group. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 2. ->

Masterlist

[angelremnants]

Heat Waves l J. B. Barnes

PART TWO.⠀LATE JUNE NIGHTS

summary : After years of manipulation by Hydra, Bucky Barnes must find his place in a world that has long moved on without him. With you, an independent and unwavering agent by his side, he reluctantly embarks on a transformative journey of recovery in Wakanda. Amid the kingdom's vibrant culture, your connection to Bucky deepens as he confronts personal demons and embrace the healing process. Bucky learns to welcome the warmth of new beginnings, understanding that even after winter's cold grip, the sun can shine through. Inspired by Heat Waves by Glass Animals.

pairing : James ''Bucky'' Barnes x f!reader

warnings : Mature (16+), slow burn, eventual romance, pure fluff, mentions of past trauma, themes of healing, banter, teasing, mild language. Proceed with caution if you're sensitive to such material.

word count : 13.4k

author's notes : So, I lied. I said this next part was going to be the continuation AND ending of this fic.. Long story short, I went overboard (again) and wrote way much more than I had initially planned (I decided last minute to incorporate sexy time for the last part because I'm feral). Anyway, I highly recommend reading the first part beforehand, as it provides essential context for the following scenes.

Writing about Wakanda makes me miss my home country—listening to All the Stars (one of my fav' songs, btw) especially makes me miss all of the amazing summers I spent there, so I took a bit of inspo from them while writing some parts of the story.

I'd also like to adress an immense thank you to @stilleobjection for helping me get set on major components of the story. Live, laugh, love my moots<3

(ao3 version)

The sparring matches had ended on a high note, leaving everyone in good spirits. Shuri, still grinning after her mock victory over you, clapped her hands.

“Alright, white boy, Sparky, we’ve got plans for you today,” she announced, exchanging a glance with T’Challa. “Something is cooking back at the palace, so we need you two out of the way while it’s being perfected.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Out of the way? Should we be worried?”

The king chuckled as he clasped Bucky on the shoulder in camaraderie. “Not at all. My sister thought it would be good for you both to explore a bit of Wakanda’s countryside. It’s a chance to unwind after the training session.”

Shuri tilted her head toward a guide waiting nearby. “We’ve got quads—well, Wakandan versions of quads—prepped for you. Trust me, they’re fast, safe, and a lot of fun. And since I don’t trust you two to behave, I’ll be joining.”

“Wait,” Bucky said, narrowing his eyes. “Why do I feel like this is part of some elaborate scheme?”

Shuri gasped, feigning offense. “White boy, I’m shocked you’d accuse me of such treachery. This is purely for your benefit. You should be thanking me.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Alright, let’s do it. But if this is a setup, Shuri, you’re paying for the therapy.”

With that, the three of you followed the guide to an open clearing where two sleek quads—futuristic in design and gleaming in the sunlight—were parked. They looked like something out of a sci-fi film, with smooth, aerodynamic lines and holographic controls.

Shuri, clearly in her element, hopped onto one of the bikes with ease. “Aren’t they beauties? Vibranium-powered of course, eco-friendly, and ridiculously fast.” She patted the handlebars of hers. “You’ll thank me later.”

As she excitedly hopped onto one and began rattling off specs, you noticed Bucky standing back, arms crossed, staring at the vehicle like it was some alien artifact. He crouched down, inspecting the engine with a furrowed brow, his metal fingers tapping lightly on the side as if trying to figure out its secrets.

“It’s not going to break down, old man,” you teased, watching him lean closer.

“I’m just saying,” he replied, gesturing to the sleek design. “Engines like these don’t look like they belong to anything real. Where’s the exhaust system? The carburetor? This thing looks like it’s from outer space.”

Shuri, standing next to her quad, rolled her eyes. “It’s vibranium-powered. No carburetors, no exhaust. Welcome to the 21st century, Grandpa.”

Bucky gave her a flat look. “I like machines I can understand. Motorcycles, for instance. You know, things that don’t look like they’re about to fly off into orbit.”

Shuri smirked, leaning casually against her quad. “Don’t worry, white boy. It’s not as fragile as your Harley. And you might even like it if you give it a chance. Just try not to overthink it, alright?”

You couldn’t help but laugh as Bucky shook his head, muttering something about "vibranium death traps" under his breath.

Finally, he climbed onto his quad, still inspecting the handlebars as if they might suddenly sprout wings. “How’s it feel?” you asked, watching him warily test the controls.

“Like it’s about to insult my mother,” he muttered.

Shuri groaned. “Just start the thing! I promise you’ll survive.”

The ride began with a burst of speed as the quads hummed to life, their engines emitting a low, futuristic whirr that reverberated through the open air. The path wound through Wakanda’s breathtaking countryside, a kaleidoscope of vibrant greenery and golden sunlight that spilled across the landscape. Rolling hills stretched into the horizon, dotted with clusters of wildflowers in colors so vivid they looked almost unreal. Tall trees arched overhead, their bioluminescent leaves shimmering faintly in the soft light, as if breathing with life. Crystal-clear streams meandered alongside the trail, their waters catching the sunlight and scattering it like a thousand diamonds.

The air was crisp and cool, carrying the earthy scent of freshly turned soil mingled with the subtle sweetness of blooming flora. You breathed deeply, letting the scent wash over you as the wind whipped past.

“How’s it feel now?” Shuri called out, her voice cutting through the hum of the engines. She glanced back at Bucky, her tone half-challenging, half-playful.

Bucky, despite his earlier reservations, seemed more at ease now. His broad shoulders were less tense, and a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Not bad,” he admitted grudgingly, though his tone suggested he wasn’t about to heap praise on the machine just yet. The wind caught his hair, making him look a little less like the stoic soldier and more like someone who might actually be enjoying himself.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the rush of adrenaline making your heart race. “This is incredible! How fast can these go?”

“Fast enough to outrun your doubts, Sparky!” Shuri quipped, her grin evident even from a distance as she twisted the throttle and sped ahead.

The three of you carved your way through the trails, the quads kicking up soft plumes of dirt in their wake. Every so often, you paused to admire the scenery—expansive meadows that seemed to stretch forever, their grasses swaying lazily in the breeze, or ancient-looking rock formations jutting proudly from the earth like guardians of the past.

Shuri acted as a guide, pointing out landmarks with unrestrained enthusiasm. “That hill over there? It’s where some of the first Wakandan warriors trained with vibranium shields. And that tree? It’s older than most of the royal palace!” Her knowledge was infectious, her voice laced with pride and affection for her homeland.

Meanwhile, Bucky couldn’t seem to resist his inner mechanic. Every so often, he’d pull his quad to a halt and hop off, crouching down to inspect its parts like an overprotective grandparent. “These controls are too smooth. It’s like it’s driving itself,” he muttered at one point, tapping a finger against the engine casing.

“That’s because it is smart tech, white boy,” Shuri teased as she rolled up beside him. “Honestly, you’re acting like an old man trying to figure out a smartphone.”

Bucky shot her a withering look, but there was no heat behind it. “I’m just saying, machines like these don’t need to be this complicated. Give me a Harley, and I’ll be fine.”

It wasn’t long before the shenanigans began. Shuri, ever the troublemaker, led the charge.

“Think fast!” she shouted gleefully, swerving sharply to kick up a spray of dirt and grass that splattered across Bucky’s quad.

Bucky coughed, glaring at her as he wiped his face with the sleeve of his jacket. “Seriously?”

“Just keeping you on your toes, Grandpa!” she replied, her laughter ringing out like music.

You decided to join the fun, veering your quad closer to Bucky’s and revving the engine in a sharp burst. He startled slightly, giving you a side-eye glare that quickly softened into something resembling reluctant amusement.

“You too?” he asked, his voice tinged with exasperation. “What is this, ‘Pick on Bucky’ Day?”

“Every day is ‘Pick on Bucky’ Day,” you teasingly shot back with a grin. “You’re just an easy target, old man.”

Not one to back down, Bucky suddenly accelerated, cutting you and Shuri off in one swift motion. “Alright, if that’s how you wanna play,” he said over his shoulder, his voice carrying the smallest hint of a challenge.

What followed was a chaotic race through the trails. The three of you took turns speeding ahead, cutting each other off, and kicking up clouds of dirt. Shuri, ever the daredevil, led you both through a narrow trail with low-hanging branches that forced you to duck and weave to avoid getting smacked in the face.

“You could’ve warned us, Shuri!” you shouted, laughing despite yourself as you narrowly avoided a branch.

“Where’s the fun in that?” she called back, her voice dripping with mischief.

Even Bucky started to loosen up, his posture relaxing as he swerved around a sharp corner with surprising skill. At one point, you caught him grinning—an unguarded, genuine smile that made him look years younger.

Eventually, the path widened, revealing a breathtaking scene. A shimmering lake stretched out before you, its surface reflecting the pastel hues of the early evening sky. Steam rose lazily from parts of the water, hinting at natural hot springs, while rocky cliffs framed the area like an artist’s masterpiece. A few open-air huts dotted the shoreline, their thatched roofs blending harmoniously with the natural surroundings.

Shuri pulled to a stop and hopped off her quad, stretching her arms overhead with a content sigh. “Welcome to paradise!” she announced grandly. “The water here is the perfect remedy for sore muscles—and bruised egos.” She shot a pointed look at Bucky, her grin as wide as ever.

“This is amazing,” you said, your gaze sweeping over the tranquil scene. “Did you plan this, Shuri?”

“Of course I did,” she replied smugly. “You think I’d let you two wander around aimlessly? Now, go ahead and enjoy yourselves.”

The lake was even more breathtaking up close. Crystal-clear water stretched out in a shimmering expanse, its surface rippling gently as steam curled upward from the edges of the natural hot springs. The rocky cliffs surrounding the area glistened with dew, the rock faces streaked with veins of vibrant minerals that reflected the fading light like jewels. Overhead, the sky deepened into a tapestry of purples and gold, scattered with stars beginning to peek through. The air here was warm and heavy with the scent of mineral springs and blooming wildflowers, creating an almost dreamlike atmosphere.

A few open-air huts lined the shore, their thatched roofs blending seamlessly with the landscape. Inside, simple benches and woven baskets hinted at their purpose: a place to change or rest before enjoying the rejuvenating waters.

Shuri was already peeling off her outerwear to reveal a sleek bodysuit underneath, the kind of practical yet stylish attire that only Wakandan design could pull off. “Don’t just stand there gawking. The water’s calling, and I’m answering.” She didn’t wait for a response, striding toward the lake and stepping in without hesitation. “Perfect temperature, as always,” she called over her shoulder.

You watched her for a moment, then shrugged. “Why not?” You weren’t exactly prepared for a swim, but that wasn’t going to stop you. Stripping down to your underwear, you stepped into the water, the warmth spreading over your skin like a comforting embrace.

Bucky, however, stayed firmly on the shore, his arms crossed as he eyed the water warily. “I think I’ll sit this one out,” he muttered.

Shuri, already chest-deep in the water, shot him a look of mock disbelief. “What’s the matter, white boy? Afraid your arm’s gonna rust?”

Bucky raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “It’s titanium. It doesn’t rust.”

“Then you have no excuse!” Shuri countered, splashing water in his direction for good measure. “Come on, don’t be boring. Even Grandpa needs to have fun sometimes.”

You laughed, wading deeper into the water until it lapped at your shoulders. “She’s got a point, you know. What’s the worst that could happen? You’ll have fun?”

Bucky groaned, running a hand through his hair. “You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

“Nope,” you and Shuri said in unison.

Finally, with a muttered curse under his breath, Bucky relented. He pulled off his jacket and shirt, revealing the solid planes of his chest and the intricate design of his titanium arm, which gleamed even in the dim light. He hesitated for a moment before removing his boots and pants, leaving him in just a pair of black briefs.

You swallowed hard, your gaze flickering over him before quickly looking away, your cheeks heating. Shuri, of course, caught it immediately.

“See something you like, Sparky?” she teased, her grin devilish as she waded closer.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, your attempt at nonchalance failing miserably, though your face betrayed you with its growing warmth.

Shuri wasn’t done, though. She tilted her head, the playful gleam in her eyes making you dread whatever she was about to say next. “Don’t worry about it. I saw him watching you earlier when you were stripping down, too.”

Your head snapped up, your eyes widening. “Shuri!”

“What?” she said with a shrug, her grin widening as she gestured toward Bucky, who was already halfway into the water and thankfully out of earshot. “I’m just saying, you’re not the only one doing some ogling tonight.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Why do you always have to do this?”

“Because it’s fun,” she replied with a wink. “And you’re just so easy to fluster. Besides, I’m practically doing you a favor. Now you know he’s looking.”

You peeked between your fingers, your gaze instinctively darting to Bucky, who was settling into the water. His broad shoulders gleamed under the dim light, and you hated how quickly your eyes lingered.

“You’re the worst,” you muttered, sinking lower into the water to hide your embarrassment.

Shuri’s laughter rang out, light and carefree. “You’re welcome!”

Bucky stepped into the water, his movements cautious at first, but he seemed to relax as the warmth enveloped him. “You two are insufferable,” he muttered, though the faintest hint of a smirk betrayed him.

“It doesn’t stop you from following us,” you shot back, splashing water in his direction.

What started as playful banter quickly devolved into a full-blown splash war. Shuri was the obvious instigator, as always, her cunning grin practically a warning sign as she cupped her hands and sent the first wave of water crashing toward you.

“You’re going down, Sparky!” she declared, her laughter echoing over the surface of the lake.

You retaliated immediately, scooping up water and hurling it back at her, though your aim wasn’t nearly as precise. “Oh, you want a fight? Let’s go, Princess!”

Bucky, who had been trying to stay out of the line of fire, quickly found himself dragged into the chaos. A rogue splash hit him square in the face, and he sputtered, shaking his head like a drenched dog.

“Is this what you call diplomacy?” Bucky grumbled as he shielded himself with his arm.

“Wakandan diplomacy is very hands-on,” Shuri replied, her laughter echoing across the lake.

“Alright, that’s it,” he muttered, his voice low and mock-menacing.

The next second, he sent an impressive arc of water flying in Shuri’s direction, catching her mid-laugh and soaking her from head to toe.

“Hey!” she yelped, wiping water from her eyes. “You’re gonna regret that, white boy!”

From that moment on, all bets were off. Shuri was the obvious victor, her technique unmatched as she sent wave after wave of water at you and Bucky. Her speed and agility made her nearly impossible to hit, and her laughter only seemed to grow louder with each successful attack.

You tried teaming up with Bucky to overpower her, but it was like trying to outsmart a hurricane. “We need a strategy!” you shouted, ducking behind Bucky for cover as Shuri sent another splash your way.

“Strategy?” Bucky replied, his brow furrowing in mock disbelief. “We’re in a lake. The only strategy here is survival!”

Shuri, grinning wickedly, used your moment of distraction to launch her most devastating attack yet—a double-handed splash that drenched you both in a massive wave.

“You call that survival?” she teased, her hands on her hips as she waded back a few steps, looking far too smug.

The water glistened around her like liquid silver, the bioluminescent glow of the surrounding foliage casting soft light on her triumphant form. You and Bucky exchanged a quick glance, a silent agreement passing between you.

“Truce?” you whispered.

“Truce,” he agreed, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

Together, you turned on Shuri, launching a coordinated attack that finally managed to take her by surprise. She shrieked as two simultaneous waves of water hit her, but her laughter was still loud and carefree.

“Alright, alright! I concede!” she said, holding her hands up in surrender, though the grin on her face made it clear she wasn’t entirely serious. “But don’t think I’ll forget this, you two.”

The three of you stood there, panting and laughing, the water rippling gently around you as the tension of the day melted away into the cool embrace of the lake. It was a quiet haven, the cool water lapping gently at your skin, but Shuri’s excitement quickly shattered the calm.

“Alright, I’m bored now. Let’s play Pirate Ship,” she declared, her eyes shining with mischief. She swam toward you both, a playful grin tugging at her lips. “It’s a team game—just like chicken, but with a twist. One person is the pirate ship, and the other two are the crew with one trying to take it down and one giving it directions.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious. “Pirate ship?”

“Yeah,” Shuri said, her voice full of energy. “It’s simple. Bucky, you’re the pirate ship. You’re the one we have to knock off balance.”

Bucky looked at her with a bemused smile. “I’m the pirate ship, huh? Alright, I’m game.”

Shuri turned to you. “And you’ll be the first crew member, perched on his arm like a lookout. I’m the second crew member, and my job is to throw you both off balance—knock you out of the game.”

Before Bucky could protest, Shuri swiftly lifted you from the water, her hands steady as she helped you onto Bucky’s broad, muscled arm. Your legs wrapped instinctively around his arm for balance, and you felt a rush of warmth at how strong and solid he felt beneath you. The water swirled around both of you, the gentle waves adding an extra challenge as you settled into place, hands gripping his shoulders for extra security.

“There we go,” Shuri smirked, positioning herself in front of the two of you. “Try not to fall off, pirate.”

Bucky chuckled, his eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and determination. “I’ll hold my ground. Ready?”

You nodded, gripping Bucky’s shoulder with a steady hand, trying to ignore the flutter of your heart as you realized just how close the two of you were—your body pressed to his in the stillness of the water, your chest lightly brushing against his, and his steady arm holding you firmly in place. You had to concentrate, but your mind kept wandering back to the warmth of his skin beneath your fingers.

Shuri lunged at you first, attempting to knock Bucky off balance. She was quick and agile in the water, and her first attempt sent a shiver of movement through Bucky’s body. But he held strong, his arm steady beneath you, his muscles tightening as he countered her push. You gasped slightly as you leaned into him for support, feeling the strength of his body underneath yours. His hand rested on your knee as he held you in place, his grip firm but gentle, like he was guiding you through a delicate dance.

“Easy there, Buck’,” you teased, your voice barely above a whisper, just for him. “You’re doing great.”

Bucky shot you a playful grin, but there was something deeper in his gaze—a quiet intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “I’ve got this,” he muttered, voice low, as he took a step forward, shifting his weight just enough to keep himself balanced.

Shuri’s second attempt was faster, a blur of motion as she surged forward, trying to get a grip on Bucky’s shoulder. You felt your balance teeter as the water surged around you, but Bucky’s hand shot out just in time, pulling you back into place. His fingers brushed against your skin as he steadied you, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through you.

“You’re not getting us that easily,” Bucky murmured, his voice surprisingly husky as his eyes flickered down to you, searching your face for any sign that he was doing okay. The warmth in his gaze was undeniable, and for a moment, you forgot where you were, lost in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath you, the closeness of your bodies, the way he was so careful with you.

But before you could respond, Shuri lunged at him one more time. This time, her strategy was sharper and more aggressive, and Bucky’s arm gave way under the pressure. You lost your balance as Shuri grabbed hold of his shoulder, throwing both of you off-kilter. The next thing you knew, you were slipping from his arm and tumbling backward into the water with a splash.

The cold water shocked your senses for a moment, but before you could even panic, strong arms encircled you, pulling you back to the surface. You found yourself face-to-face with Bucky, his hands steadying you as he kept you afloat. His blue eyes locked onto yours with a quiet intensity, his breath warm against your skin as you both clung to the moment.

“You good, dove?” he asked, his voice softer than usual, the hint of concern there, though you knew he wasn’t worried about anything other than making sure you were okay.

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips as your heart raced. “Yeah, just… didn’t expect you to catch me like that,” you said, your voice quieter now, as if the game was suddenly secondary to the warmth of his presence.

Bucky’s hand remained on your waist, a steadying anchor as you floated together, the water around you both barely making a sound. He didn’t pull away, and for a heartbeat, everything else faded—the playful banter, the game, the world itself. It was just you and him, suspended in time, your chest brushing lightly against his as you shared a quiet moment in the lake.

Shuri's teasing voice sliced through the comfortable silence that had settled around you and Bucky, her tone playful and laced with mischief. “Aww, isn’t this romantic,” she called from where she bobbed lazily in the water, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she floated a little too close, clearly enjoying the moment a bit too much. “But we should probably head back. Sunrise isn’t going to wait for you lovebirds.”

The spell that had wrapped around you and Bucky shattered in an instant. You felt the weight of the moment break as Shuri’s words brought a flurry of laughter bubbling to the surface. Your cheeks flushed as you tried to gather your bearings, feeling the playful spark of the moment slip away, yet, in a way, you didn’t mind. It was impossible to stay serious when Shuri’s teasing grin was so infectious.

You groaned, letting out a dramatic sigh as you pushed yourself upright in the water. “Let’s go, white boy. Don’t want you rusting after all,” you teased, your voice light but still holding onto the warmth of the moment.

Bucky’s eyes rolled at the nickname, but there was a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He turned to you, his blue eyes glinting with a playful challenge. “Please don’t tell me you’re gonna call me that too.”

You grinned back, your heart still fluttering from the closeness you’d shared. “Impossible,” you replied with a wink. “I like the sound of it.”

Bucky gave you an exaggerated sigh, his hand reaching up to run through his damp hair as he shook his head. “I swear, I’m surrounded by trouble,” he muttered under his breath, but there was no malice behind his words—just a quiet affection that spoke volumes, even if it was wrapped in sarcasm.

Despite his mock grumbling, he followed your lead, swimming toward the shore. You matched his pace, your muscles still pleasantly sore from the game, but the gentle push of the water made it feel like the whole world was moving in slow motion. The distance between you and Bucky narrowed as you both swam side by side, the warmth of his presence a silent comfort, even with Shuri’s teasing commentary still echoing in the background.

Shuri, of course, didn’t let up. “You two make quite the pair,” she called, paddling along next to you. “I might need to start charging for this level of entertainment.” Her voice was full of laughter, but there was something else there too—an undercurrent of fondness for both of you, as if she was delighted by the connection she could clearly see growing between you and the soldier.

You shot her a playful glare. “Don’t make me make you regret learning how to swim.”

Her grin widened. “What’s the saying the white folks say again? Ah yes, ‘shiver me timbers’.”

Bucky let out a low chuckle beside you, the sound soothing and warm, as if he was finally letting the earlier teasing roll off his shoulders. The smirk he gave you was enough to make your heart skip again, the quiet moment of camaraderie between the three of you filling the air.

As the shoreline grew closer, Bucky’s smirk softened, and his expression turned a little more serious, though not in an uncomfortable way. He gave you a side glance, his voice quieter now, and tinged with something almost shy. “Thanks, by the way,” he said, his tone laced with sincerity. “For, you know, hanging in there with me.”

You blinked, surprised by the soft vulnerability in his words. “Of course, Bucky,” you said, your voice gentle. “You didn’t think I’d leave you hanging, did you?”

Bucky met your gaze, the softness in his eyes matching the quiet connection you felt. “I wouldn’t put it past you,” he teased lightly, but there was warmth behind it. “But I’m glad you didn’t.”

For a moment, you simply floated there, the water still and peaceful around you, the air filled with unspoken understanding. Bucky had always been a complicated puzzle, but right here, right now, it felt like you were finally starting to fit together.

Shuri, ever the interrupter, glanced over at the two of you with a knowing look. “Alright, alright,” she said, pushing herself up from the water as she began heading toward the shore. “You two are sickeningly cute, but seriously, we should get going before we turn into fish.”

Bucky took a look at you, and this time, the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips was genuine, not mocking, but something softer—something real. “Lead the way, little one,” he said with a grin, his voice warm and affectionate as he gestured for Shuri to go ahead.

⠀

The day’s warmth lingered as you and Shuri made your way to the huts nearby, your bodies tired but relaxed from the playful lake game. The sky was beginning to darken, hinting at the coming sunrise, and there was a subtle excitement in the air—soon you’d be heading straight to the palace.

As you reached the hut, you noticed the men’s and women’s changing areas were naturally sex-separate, allowing for a quiet moment of privacy before the more formal events began. You started to step inside your designated hut, but Shuri held you back with a mischievous grin on her face.

“Wait up, Sparky,” she said, her voice dripping with playful curiosity. “We need to talk.”

You raised an eyebrow but followed her inside the small, private space. “About what?”

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about,” Shuri replied, giving you a knowing look as she crossed her arms. “I saw the way you and Bucky were looking at each other out there. That moment—the way he held you steady. You two have something going on, don’t you?”

You felt a flush creep up your neck, but you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “We’re just friends, Shuri. Nothing more.”

She tilted her head to the side, unconvinced. “Friends, huh?” she said, dragging out the word. “Then why do I sense a little more than that? Hmm? You didn’t look like ‘just friends’ when you were practically on top of him in the water.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

You let out a soft groan, trying to hide the warmth in your cheeks. “Shuri, we’re really just friends. We’ve known each other for a while now.”

Her eyes widened with exaggerated interest. “Oh? Tell me everything. How did this magical friendship start?”

You took a deep breath, trying to focus. “Well, it’s not all that exciting. I first met Bucky during a workout session at the compound—he was just sitting off to the side, hydrating or whatever. I’d been working out with some of the agents, and I was parched, so I grabbed a bottle of water. I didn’t notice him at first, but when I went to leave, I accidentally bumped into him, spilling some of the water on him.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the memory. “I was mortified, but he just laughed it off, saying, ‘You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last.’ It was such a small, funny moment, but I remember it so clearly.”

Shuri leaned in, clearly intrigued. “That’s it? That’s how the great Sparky and the white boy became friends?”

You nodded. “Pretty much. But we ended up running into each other again a few months later when we were both assigned to the same mission. It wasn’t planned or anything. Our superiors noticed how naturally we clicked, so after that, they kept putting us together. We just kind of... became friends after that.”

Shuri raised her eyebrows, clearly amused. “Became friends, huh?” She shook her head with a smirk. “There’s something you’re not telling me. The way you two interact is way too comfortable for just a friendship.”

You sighed, crossing your arms. “There’s nothing else. Trust me, we’re just close friends who get along well. He’s been through a lot, and I get it. I’m just... here for him. That’s all.”

Shuri didn’t look convinced. She started pacing back and forth, tapping her chin. “Hmm, well, I’m still not buying it. You two have some serious chemistry, whether you admit it or not. You’re telling me that’s all just... friendship?” She exaggerated the word with air quotes.

You opened your mouth to respond, but Shuri quickly cut you off. “I won’t let you leave this hut until you spill the tea. You can’t hide behind your ‘just friends’ act forever, Sparky.” She grinned playfully, clearly enjoying herself.

You groaned again, feeling the heat rise to your face. “Fine. There was a... moment, but that’s it. He just... makes me feel comfortable. It’s hard to explain.”

Your cheeks burned at the remembrance of that embarrassing move you’d unconsciously pulled. The kiss to his cheek—it had been a simple, spontaneous act of gratitude, but now, in the quiet of your room, you felt your heart race at the memory.

The day had been long, and you found yourself in your quarters, trying to unwind after an exhausting debrief. As your gaze wandered, it landed on something familiar—an old mechanical wristwatch sitting on your desk. It was an heirloom, passed down through your family, and it had always been a symbol of resilience to you. But recently, it had been failing—stopping intermittently, refusing to tick when it should, and making it clear that it needed repair.

You had tried to fix it yourself, but no luck. You hadn’t wanted to take it to the techs; it was too personal. You’d quietly hoped it might somehow start working on its own, but it never did.

That evening, after dinner, you placed it down on the desk and ran your fingers over its familiar face, as if trying to find some connection to the past. But just as you set it aside, a knock at your door startled you.

Opening it, you were surprised to see Bucky standing there. A tool kit was slung over his shoulder, his usual quiet but determined expression on his face.

"Hey," he greeted you with a small, awkward smile. "I—I saw the watch earlier. Thought it might need a little... tune-up."

You blinked, taken aback for a moment. "Bucky? You... know about watches?"

He shrugged slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "More than a few, yeah. Before... well, before everything happened, I worked on mechanical things. Cars, watches, motorcycles—anything with gears."

You raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "You're telling me you're not just a soldier, but a mechanic too?"

He chuckled softly, a slight warmth in his eyes. "Not just. I used to spend a lot of time fixing things. Figured I might be able to help."

You gestured toward the desk, where the watch lay, still as ever. You hadn't realized just how much you'd been staring at it, silently wishing it could work again.

"I didn’t expect you to notice it," you said quietly, moving to pick it up. "But I—I can’t seem to fix it myself."

Bucky stepped inside and set down his tool kit, his movements slow and deliberate as he began working on the watch. His fingers were steady, his focus intense. There was a calmness in the way he worked, similar to how he handled everything else—with precision and care. But this was different. He wasn’t handling a weapon; he was working on something delicate, something important to you.

The rhythmic sound of his hands moving as he adjusted the gears filled the room. You watched him, the quiet and his attention to detail stirring something deeper in you. The way his brow furrowed in concentration, how his fingers moved without hesitation—it wasn’t just about fixing the watch. It was something more.

“How’d you learn to do this?” you asked softly, your voice quieter now, full of curiosity.

“I had to,” he replied, his gaze still fixed on the watch. “In the army, you don’t always have what you need. I learned how to fix whatever I could get my hands on.”

You nodded slowly, absorbing his words. There was something different about the way he spoke—like every skill, every moment he’d lived, had shaped him into who he was now. This wasn’t the Bucky you were used to—the soldier with a shield or the man in battle. This was another side of him, a gentler one, one that didn’t require fighting to prove his worth.

After a few minutes, Bucky stopped working, his eyes meeting yours as he gave you a small smile. "All fixed."

You carefully took the watch from his hands and examined it. The hands were moving again, ticking steadily, as if it had never been broken. When you reached to take it, your fingers brushed against his for just a moment, and the world seemed to slow. For a heartbeat, everything seemed to freeze—his blue eyes locked with yours, and there was something in the air, unspoken but understood.

You broke the silence, your voice soft but sincere. "You really didn’t have to," you said, still holding the watch in your hands, its ticking now a steady comfort. "But thank you, James. This means a lot."

Bucky’s gaze softened, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "It was nothing. I’m glad I could help."

You stood up, the watch still in your hand, and took a small step toward him. The space between you felt charged now, electric. Without really thinking, you leaned in, pressing a quick, soft kiss to his cheek—just a brush of gratitude, but it felt more than that. The gesture lingered longer than you intended.

The moment you pulled away, you realized your mistake. Bucky stood frozen for a moment, his eyes wide, and you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. For a split second, the room was thick with unspoken tension, and the heat of his gaze made your heart race. You couldn't look at him.

"I—uh—well," he stammered, clearing his throat. "I didn’t expect that."

You quickly regained your composure, your heart still pounding, but your voice steady. "You fixed something important to me. I wanted to show my thanks," you said, though you could feel the rush of warmth on your cheeks. "You’ve done more than I could’ve ever expected."

Bucky’s expression softened, his eyes flickering with something unreadable. He nodded, though he couldn’t quite meet your gaze. "You’re welcome, dove," he said, his voice low. "Anytime."

Your cheeks were still burning, and you quickly opened your arms, pulling him into a quick, grateful hug. It was over in an instant, but his warmth lingered in the space between you. When you pulled away, you couldn’t help but feel the heat of his presence.

"Thank you," you said again, quieter now, more to yourself than to him. "For everything."

Bucky nodded but didn’t speak. His soft smile returned, but there was something else in his eyes—something deeper, like words weren’t enough. He didn’t say anything more as he turned to leave, but as he stepped out, you opened the door and hastily shut it behind him, your heart still pounding in your chest. You leaned against it, eyes closed, feeling the rush of blood in your face and the thick, lingering tension that had settled in your room. You didn’t know what had just happened, but one thing was certain: that kiss had shifted something between you both. And now, you weren’t sure what to do about it.

You shook your head, as if to chase the thought away. Shuri nodded sagely, her eyes dancing with mischief. “I knew it! Something’s going on.” She gave you a dramatic wink. “Don’t worry, I won’t force you to admit anything else. But mark my words, Sparky—there’s more to this than you’re letting on.”

Before you could say anything else, Shuri clapped her hands together, grabbing your attention. “Now, enough of this. You look like you need something to wear for the palace. I’ve got just the thing.”

You blinked, confused. “The palace? Aren’t we heading there soon?”

Shuri grinned. “Yes, and no offense, but what you were wearing isn’t quite appropriate. You’re heading into Wakandan royal territory, and I’m not going to let you go in looking like a tourist.” She quickly rummaged through a nearby chest, pulling out an intricately designed outfit. “Here, you’ll look stunning in this. It’s cultural, beautiful, and fits with the royal occasion.”

You took a step back, eyeing the garment she handed you. It was a royal Wakandan-style dress, the fabric shimmering with patterns that reflected the country’s rich heritage. The deep blues and golds complemented your skin tone perfectly, and the intricate beadwork along the neckline made it clear that this wasn’t just a casual outfit—it was something special.

“This is beautiful,” you said, genuinely touched by her thoughtfulness. “But are you sure I can wear this?”

Shuri shrugged. “Of course. You’re as much a part of this country as anyone. Don’t even think about it. This will be perfect for the palace.”

As you changed into the dress, Shuri stood by, watching you with a playful grin. “You know, I bet Bucky’s going to lose his mind when he sees you in that.”

You shot her a warning look. “Shuri, stop.”

But she was already walking out the door, clearly satisfied with her teasing. “I’ll meet you outside, Sparky. We’ll make an entrance, trust me.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle as you finished getting ready, feeling a strange mix of nervous excitement as you adjusted the dress. Shuri’s antics aside, something about the night ahead felt different. The palace awaited, and you had a feeling that no matter what happened next, things between you and Bucky were going to shift, one way or another.

You stepped outside the hut, feeling the cool air of the evening settle around you as you made your way toward the gathering area. The sunset painted the sky with hues of orange and pink, casting a warm glow over the land, the fading light reflecting off the distant peaks of the mountains. The air was thick with the scent of earth and flowers, the transition from day to night making everything feel a little more magical.

As you reached the edge of the clearing, you spotted Bucky standing there, his back to you. He was dressed in a traditional Wakandan outfit as well—his dark attire highlighted with silver accents, the intricate patterns on his chest and sleeves shimmering under the dying light. The fabric seemed to move with him, like it was alive, giving him an almost regal presence.

Your breath caught in your throat. There was something about the way he looked tonight—so different from the soldier you knew. The colors of his outfit and the strong but gentle lines of his form made him appear like he belonged here, among royalty and tradition. The fading light of the sunset seemed to soften the sharp edges of his usual demeanor, and in that moment, he didn’t look like someone haunted by his past, but rather, someone who had found a place in this world.

He turned as he heard your footsteps, his eyes immediately locking with yours. For a moment, neither of you moved. The setting sun illuminated his features, casting a warm glow across his face, making the familiar blue of his eyes stand out even more.

“You look… great, dove,” he said, his voice low and sincere, his gaze never leaving you.

You felt your heart flutter, the intensity of his words making your cheeks flush. Before you could think of anything to say, Shuri appeared at your side, her grin wide as she observed the exchange. “Told you,” she whispered under her breath, clearly pleased with the effect your appearance had on him.

You swallowed, trying to steady your nerves as you turned toward the palace. The walk ahead felt like a new chapter—one you weren’t sure how it would unfold, but you couldn’t help but feel that whatever happened next, it would change everything. And just as you and Bucky walked together toward the palace, the sun dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky painted with the soft colors of twilight, as if the world itself was holding its breath.

⠀

The grandeur of Wakanda’s capital was one of the many things that could never fail to take your breath away. Towering structures of gleaming stone and glass rose from the earth, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. The skyline shimmered with a blend of advanced technology and rich tradition, a city that harmonized its ancestral heritage with cutting-edge innovation. The air was heavy with the scent of spices and incense, mingling with the hum of machinery that made everything in Wakanda run with such fluid precision.

You couldn’t help but notice the vibrant markings on the faces of the people you passed, intricate designs painted in vivid colors that told stories of their lineage, their roles, and their connection to the land. It was clear that no one here was simply a passerby. Every person had a story, a purpose. The colors marked their identity, their culture, and their pride.

As you entered the palace, the sheer scale of the hall left you speechless. Massive stone columns rose to the ceiling, adorned with vibrant carvings that depicted the history of Wakanda—their ancestors, their battles, and their triumphs. Statues of past rulers and revered warriors stood solemnly along the walls, some holding ceremonial spears, others adorned with colorful beads, each symbolizing a different tribe’s history and honor. In the center of the room, massive holographic displays flickered to life, depicting abstract representations of Wakanda’s values—its strength, its unity, and its future. The air was electric, a seamless blend of tradition and technology.

You could feel the weight of Wakanda's history in every corner of the room. The way the ancient stone floor felt cool beneath your feet, and the vibranium that coursed through the very walls of the palace, pulsing with life. A soft, melodic hum filled the room, as if the palace itself was alive, welcoming all who entered.

The large hall of the palace was bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, which streamed through massive windows, casting intricate patterns of light on the stone floors. The air was thick with anticipation, as the people of Wakanda gathered to witness the beginning of a new chapter in the history of their nation. The room was a perfect fusion of old and new: towering statues of past kings and queens stood side by side with holographic displays that shimmered with information, adding a layer of modernity to the ancient stone.

Wakandan warriors, adorned in ceremonial attire, stood at the edges of the room, their bodies marked with vibrant paints and designs that spoke to their clans, their history, and their strength. The designs were no simple decoration—each stroke carried meaning, telling a story of survival, legacy, and honor. The air was thick with the weight of tradition and culture, yet there was an unmistakable hum of technology coursing through the space. It was as if the room itself was alive, blending the spiritual and the technological into a perfect harmony.

In the center of the hall, a large circular platform had been set up, its surface marked with more designs—symbols of unity, power, and transformation. It was here that the ceremony would take place, where the destinies of two outsiders would intertwine with that of Wakanda. The people of Wakanda stood with reverence, waiting in hushed silence, as their king, T'Challa, walked to the front.

T’Challa’s presence commanded the room. The black panther suit that adorned him, regal and imposing, made it clear that he was both a warrior and a king. As he took his place, his eyes scanned the room, filled with pride for his people. He held the wisdom of his ancestors, yet there was a modern sensibility in his leadership. Today, he was not just a monarch; he was a protector of those who had fought for his country, and he was about to welcome new members into that fold.

At his side stood Shuri, her vibrant energy a stark contrast to the quiet strength of her brother. Okoye, standing at attention beside them, watched the crowd with a protective gaze, while M'Baku’s massive form loomed at the far side of the hall, his powerful presence impossible to miss.

And then, seated on a throne of gold and ebony, was the Queen Mother—Ramonda. Her regal presence exuded wisdom and compassion, a mother’s strength tempered by years of experience. She was a queen not just by birth, but by the force of her will, her calm demeanor a guiding light for the nation. Her eyes, sharp yet filled with warmth, scanned the crowd, but when they landed on you and Bucky, there was a spark of something deeper—a recognition of the weight of their journey, and the transformation that lay ahead.

Flanking her were several elders and respected leaders of Wakanda, each dressed in ceremonial garb and bearing the weight of their wisdom and responsibility. Shuri stood at your side, her grin wide as she observed the ceremony. She had been teasing you and Bucky ever since you’d arrived, her excitement palpable, but now, even she seemed to hold a reverence for what was about to take place.

The Queen’s gaze shifted between you and Bucky, her expression unreadable, before she spoke, her voice resonating like a deep, soothing melody. “Welcome to the heart of Wakanda, White Wolf, and Silver Fox.”

The words hit you both like a wave.

The ceremony began slowly, with the sound of a drumbeat filling the air, its rhythmic thumping echoing through the hall. The drummers, positioned at the back of the room, beat in time with the energy building in the space. Their rhythm matched the heartbeat of Wakanda itself, steady and unwavering.

As the drumbeats echoed, the elder who had been tasked with guiding the ceremony stepped forward, holding a sacred artifact—an intricately carved bowl, filled with a shimmering powder that seemed to catch the light. The elder held the bowl high, and the people of Wakanda rose in unison, chanting softly in a language older than time itself. The chants reverberated throughout the hall, weaving a sense of unity among everyone present.

T'Challa's voice broke through the chants, strong and steady. "Today, we gather not just to honor two individuals, but to witness the transformation of the past into the future." His words were simple, but they carried the weight of history. "James Buchanan Barnes, you stand before us, not as a man shackled by your past, but as a hero who has chosen to fight for the future."

Bucky, standing tall beside you, felt the eyes of everyone in the room upon him. His expression was resolute, though his hands clenched slightly at his sides. He had come a long way from the man he had once been—the Winter Soldier, lost to Hydra’s control—but now, surrounded by the people of Wakanda, he stood as a new man, a free man.

An elder approached Bucky with a pendant in the shape of a wolf’s head, crafted from the finest Vibranium. The pendant shimmered in the light, catching the glow of the surrounding candles. It was a symbol of his rebirth, his transformation into the White Wolf, the protector of Wakanda, and a man who had reclaimed his humanity.

As the elder placed the pendant around Bucky’s neck, he spoke softly but powerfully. "We welcome you into our legacy, White Wolf. This pendant, forged from Vibranium, will be your guide. It will protect you, strengthen you, and remind you of the path you have chosen. With this symbol, you become not only a part of Wakanda’s legacy, but a part of its future."

The elder then applied ceremonial markings, bright red and gold, to Bucky’s metal arm. Each stroke was precise and deliberate, representing his journey, his struggle, and his victory. The markings were a blend of art and function, combining ancient tradition with the advanced technology of Wakanda. The Vibranium in his arm shimmered with new energy, reflecting the changes that had taken place within him. The pendant and the markings on his arm connected him not just to the country, but to the people, grounding him in his new identity as the White Wolf.

When the ceremony for Bucky concluded, the elder moved to you, and the room’s energy shifted. Your heart raced in your chest as you felt the weight of the moment. The people’s eyes were now on you, waiting, watching. T'Challa’s gaze, though warm and respectful, carried the strength of a king. There was no denying that your journey had been just as profound, if not more so.

The elder, holding a beautiful bracelet crafted from Vibranium, stepped forward. They called your full name in a solemn tone, "Your resilience, your strength, and your unwavering commitment to healing are a testament to the power of the human spirit. You have fought for your freedom, for your people, and for those you hold dear. Today, we honor you as one of ours, Silver Fox."

The elder gently placed the bracelet on your wrist, the Vibranium glowing faintly under the light, as if responding to your very presence. The designs on the bracelet mirrored the ones etched into Bucky’s pendant—symbols of strength, transformation, and unity.

"As this bracelet binds you to Wakanda," the elder continued, "so do your actions bind us all to a future of hope and healing. You are now a part of this land, and this land is now a part of you. You, too, have earned your place in Wakanda’s future."

You bowed your head in gratitude, humbled by the honor bestowed upon you. The people of Wakanda stood once again, this time not only recognizing Bucky’s bravery but acknowledging your strength and resilience.

T'Challa then stepped forward, his voice firm and resolute as he addressed the room. "Today, we honor those who have shown us what it means to fight for something greater than ourselves. Bucky Barnes, the White Wolf, and [Y/N] [L/N], the Silver Fox. You have proven yourselves worthy of our respect, and of our future." His eyes flicked to you both, and there was something in his gaze that spoke of the trials ahead, but also of the hope that lay within them.

The Queen Mother, Ramonda, rose from her throne, her presence commanding the room’s attention. She was dressed in an elegant yet powerful gown of deep green and gold, the fabric flowing like a river of life, and her crown glinted with the subtle beauty of Vibranium inlay. Her eyes, filled with the wisdom of ages, fell on you both, and you felt the weight of her gaze, a mix of authority and nurturing kindness.

"Your journeys are not your own," Queen Ramonda’s voice rang out, deep and steady. "You stand here today not only for yourselves, but for the generations that will come after you. The strength you’ve shown, the resilience you've demonstrated, is a gift to Wakanda. And so, we recognize you—not just as individuals, but as part of our family, part of the legacy of this great land."

With her words, you felt something deep within you stir—a connection not just to Wakanda, but to a greater purpose. She smiled gently at both you and Bucky before turning back to the assembly. "It is my honor to welcome you both, [Y/N] and Bucky, into the heart of Wakanda. You are family now, and we will stand together, as one."

As the ceremony came to a close, Shuri flashed you a wide grin. "Told you it would be unforgettable," she said, stepping forward with an impish smile. Okoye, ever the protector, nodded approvingly, and even M'Baku gave a brief but respectful nod in your direction.

The air hummed with pride, unity, and the undeniable sense that this was only the beginning of something much larger. The ceremony had concluded, but the festivities were only just beginning. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the grand hall was transformed into a vibrant celebration of life, culture, and unity. Candles flickered in every corner, casting a warm glow over the room, while musicians began to play a lively rhythm on drums, flutes, and other traditional instruments. The sound of the drums reverberated in your chest, a deep, powerful beat that seemed to carry the very spirit of Wakanda.

You stood near the edge of the hall, still processing the significance of the ceremony and the honor bestowed upon you. The weight of the Vibranium bracelet on your wrist was a constant reminder of the new chapter in your life. But for now, the room buzzed with the energy of celebration. Laughter and chatter filled the air as people from all walks of life came together to rejoice in the moment.

Bucky, standing beside you, was visibly more relaxed now, a small smile on his face as he looked around the room. His hands were still touching the pendant around his neck, the wolf’s head symbol of his new identity. You could see that the ceremony had meant a great deal to him—this was more than just a formality; it was a true rebirth for him.

“Do you know how to dance?” you asked, nudging him playfully.

Bucky chuckled softly, looking at the dancers in the center of the room. “I’d like to think so but it’s been a little over fifty years since I’ve done some, so don’t expect much,” he replied with a grin. “But I think I could manage, with a little help.”

Before you could respond, a burst of laughter rang out behind you. Shuri had bounded over, her excitement infectious. She had already shed her ceremonial attire and was now in a more casual outfit, her vibrant energy still radiating from her. “Come, Silver Fox, don’t just stand there!” she called. “Join us! It’s time to dance!”

You hesitated, but Shuri grabbed your hand, pulling you into the center of the room. The music grew louder, faster, and the rhythm was infectious. The Wakandan dancers, moving gracefully in perfect harmony, invited you to join in. You couldn’t help but smile at the warmth of the moment, the energy of the people around you making it hard to stay still.

Shuri spun around with ease, and for a moment, you lost yourself in the beat, the swirl of vibrant colors, and the ancient movements. The dance wasn’t just about rhythm—it was a celebration of culture, a connection to the land, and a testament to Wakanda’s resilience. Each step was a piece of history, passed down from generation to generation, and you could feel the weight of it all in every motion.

During the dance, you caught a glimpse of T'Challa and Queen Ramonda standing nearby, both watching the celebration with approving smiles. T'Challa, his posture regal and composed, caught your eye and gave you a small nod, his expression warm. Queen Ramonda stood beside him, her presence as commanding as ever, but her face was soft as she watched the joy unfolding around her. Okoye stood off to the side, watching over everyone with a watchful gaze, her arms crossed over her chest but a small smile tugging at her lips. Even M'Baku, usually so stoic and serious, was tapping his foot to the beat, a twinkle of enjoyment in his eyes.

Shuri, not one to be outdone, suddenly appeared in front of you, her eyes sparkling mischievously. “You’re doing well, Sparky,” she said, before twirling around and laughing. “But I bet I could teach you a thing or two.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge, Princess?”

Shuri grinned devilishly. “Oh, you bet it is.” She spun once more before turning to Bucky with a playful look. “Hey, White Wolf! You’ve got nothing on me.”

Bucky’s eyes widened slightly at the mention of his new title. “You know,” he said with a hint of amusement, “I think I preferred ‘White Boy.’”

Shuri paused, a mock gasp escaping her lips. “Mother, do you hear this? He’s insulting his own nickname!” she exclaimed dramatically, throwing her hands up. “White Wolf is majestic, regal, a perfect representation of his new identity. White Boy? What is this, a beach vacation?”

Queen Ramonda, who had been watching the exchange with a knowing smile, let out a soft chuckle. “Shuri, dear, you are always so dramatic,” she said, her tone affectionate but firm. “Perhaps White Wolf has more gravitas, but White Boy has its charm. There’s no harm in both.”

Shuri huffed, but there was no real anger in her tone. “I’ll have to get used to it, I suppose. But mark my words, Mother—White Boy had a much better ring to it. It's simple and to the point.”

T'Challa, who had been listening to the exchange, chuckled softly. "Let us leave the nicknames to Shuri, shall we? As long as it brings honor to the warrior, that is all that matters." His voice carried an amused but gentle authority.

The conversation shifted to lighter matters as Shuri and T'Challa continued to banter back and forth, with Queen Ramonda watching over them, her serene smile never faltering. The warmth between the family was palpable, a testament to their unity and shared history. Even Okoye, who typically kept her distance from casual conversations, seemed to relax a little, her lips quirking up at the sight of the playful exchanges.

The music swirled around you as the dancing continued, and for a moment, everything seemed to blur into a whirl of color and rhythm. You found yourself moving with the flow of the crowd, caught up in the energy of it all. But even amidst the revelry, your eyes kept drifting back to Bucky.

He was standing a little off to the side now, watching the dancers with a small, amused smile on his face. His usual guarded demeanor had melted away in the warmth of the celebration, and he seemed to be genuinely enjoying the moment, despite his earlier hesitations about dancing.

You caught his eye and, with a playful grin, motioned for him to join you. “Come on, White Wolf,” you teased, using his new title with a grin. “You’re just standing there. Time to show off those moves.”

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. “I told you, I’m rusty in my moves.”

“No excuses,” you countered, pulling him gently into the center of the room, where the dancers had formed a loose circle. You had no idea what you were doing, but that didn’t matter. The important part was being together, in the moment. “If I can do it, you can too.”

He laughed, but the sound was warm, genuine. “Alright, alright,” he said, his tone soft and amused. “You’ve got me.”

With a deep breath, he tried to mimic some of the movements you were making, his arms stiff at first, his steps slightly offbeat. But something was endearing about his attempts—he wasn’t exactly graceful, but his effort was enough to make you smile. You found yourself laughing along with him, not in mockery, but in genuine joy.

“Not bad, not bad,” you said, teasing him as you twirled away from him before pulling him back. “You just need a little more flair.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Flair? I thought we were just supposed to move to the beat.”

“Moving to the beat with flair is a whole different level,” you said, laughing again. You grabbed his hand, leading him into a spin that ended with you both standing close together. His breath caught for a moment, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he looked down at you, his eyes soft.

Bucky’s smile softened, his blue eyes locking with yours. “Hey, I’m—uh, I’m glad I am here. With you.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart swell, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit breathless. You reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead, your fingers lingering just a moment longer. “I’m glad, too.”

As you moved together in the dance, a perfect balance of lightheartedness and closeness, everything else seemed to fade away. The music, the laughter, the people around you—none of it mattered. At that moment, there was only the two of you. No past, no struggles. Just the here and now.

Bucky chuckled softly, breaking the silence between you two with a playful glint in his eyes. “You know, I think I’m starting to remember this whole dancing thing. Might have to make it a regular occurrence.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Only if you promise to keep improving.”

He smirked. “Deal. But only if you promise to keep dragging me onto the dance floor every time.”

With a laugh, you leaned in just slightly, your face a little closer to his than it had been before. “I’ll hold you to that.”

The music swirled on, and it felt like the world had slowed down just for you two. As you both continued to dance, laughter and warmth filling the space between you, there was a simple, undeniable truth—you were exactly where you were meant to be. Together.

⠀

After a long and eventful evening, you found yourself in the quiet of your apartment, the warm evening air of June drifting in through the open balcony doors. The sounds of the city—distant chatter, the hum of cars, and the occasional burst of laughter—filled the background, soothing in its familiarity. You were curled up on one of the loveseats facing the starry night, a book in your lap and a plate of strawberry-covered chocolates within arm’s reach. The soft light from the moon illuminated the pages of your book, but you found your mind drifting more to the stars than to the words.

You heard the faint sound of a door creaking open, followed by the soft thud of footsteps. Looking up, you saw Bucky standing there in the doorway, his dark hair still slightly damp from his shower. He wore a simple pair of sweatpants and a loose T-shirt—his version of pajamas, just as casual and comfortable as yours. His gaze softened as he spotted you, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest.

“Hey, Silver Fox, you planning on eating all those by yourself?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in playful accusation as he crossed the room toward you.

You grinned, raising the plate slightly. “I might. They’re too good to share.”

Bucky chuckled, taking a seat next to you, his gaze flicking to the plate of chocolates. “Strawberries, huh? You know, if you keep eating those, you might turn into one.”

You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. “I could think of worse things.” You reached for one and popped it into your mouth, savoring the sweet, decadent taste. “Want one?”

He hesitated for a moment before shrugging. “Why not?” He reached for one of the chocolates, biting into it with a smile. “Guess I can’t resist.”

The two of you sat there for a moment, enjoying the peaceful quiet of the night, the only sound being the rustling of the pages of your book and the occasional crunch of chocolate. Bucky seemed to be content just being there with you, as if this simple moment of normalcy was something he hadn’t realized he needed.

“Do you ever think about what we’ve been through?” you asked after a while, your voice soft but steady. You didn’t look at him immediately, but you felt his attention shift as he processed the question.

Bucky let out a long breath, his gaze drifting to the stars. “All the time,” he said quietly. “Some days it feels like I can’t escape it… like I’m still trapped in that past. Like it’s following me.”

You nodded slowly, understanding the weight of his words. You’d been there, in that same mental prison. “It’s hard,” you said, your voice low. “I spent so many years running from my past, trying to forget what I was made to do. But you know what? You’re not defined by what happened to you. You’re defined by what you do now. Who you choose to be now.”

Bucky’s eyes flicked toward you, searching your face as if trying to read the sincerity in your words. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough to keep moving forward some days,” he said, his voice tight with a rawness you hadn’t heard from him before.

“You are,” you said firmly, meeting his gaze. “You’ve already taken the hardest step—admitting that you need help, that you want to change. That’s the hardest part. The rest will come with time. You’re not that man anymore. You’re the White Wolf. You’re… you.”

His expression softened, and for a moment, it was like the weight on his shoulders lifted just slightly. He let out a breath, glancing down at his hands before meeting your eyes again. “I never thought I’d get a title like that,” he said with a small chuckle. “I mean, who would have thought Bucky Barnes, a guy who can’t even remember most of his own life, would end up with a ceremony and a nickname like that?”

You smiled, leaning back into the cushions. “I think it suits you,” you teased, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “I think White Boy was a little more fitting, though.”

Bucky laughed at that, a deep, throaty laugh that seemed to ease the tension between you both. “Maybe I should’ve kept that one,” he said, his voice still full of humor. “At least I wouldn’t have to deal with the whole... 'ceremonial' aspect of it. Steve would've been proud.”

“Yeah, well,” you shot him a sly grin, “Steve would have been proud, but you know, he never could resist calling you ‘Buck.’ Not that he ever had much room to talk with his Cap persona.”

Bucky rolled his eyes dramatically. “I swear, that man and his shield. Always had to remind everyone of his title. I never needed a title to know who I was. I remember him being all tiny and as thin as a twig.”

You burst into laughter, shaking your head. “You’re right. You were always the guy who saved his ass in a fight, and he gets all the credit.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” He let out a small laugh too, leaning back slightly and stretching. “But hey, it’s Steve. He’s got that whole ‘leader’ thing going on.”

Your smile faded a little as you watched the stars, your thoughts turning inward for a moment. “It’s not easy to forget, though,” you murmured. “The things they made us do.”

Bucky gave you a knowing look. “I know. But we’re not defined by what we were forced to do. We’re defined by what we’re doing now.”

You nodded, appreciating his words. “It’s funny, though. Everyone thinks they know you from what they’ve seen on the surface. But they don’t know everything. No one knows what it’s really like to survive what we did.”

He turned his gaze toward you. “Yeah? So, what was it like for you? I never really got the full story.”

You let out a breath, leaning back into the cushions, letting the weight of the question settle over you for a moment before answering. “I got trafficked to Southeast Asia when I was really young by an extremist group. They took kids like me and put us in a concentration camp, training us to fight. To become soldiers. It was like the Hunger Games. We weren’t seen as children. Just tools, you know?”

Bucky’s face softened, his eyes filled with sorrow and a silent understanding that only someone who had been through something similar could truly grasp. “Jesus. How did you… survive all that?”

Your voice dropped to a whisper, the memories still painful, even after all this time. “I was fifteen when S.H.I.E.L.D. rescued me. They raided the compound, took me in. But it wasn’t easy. For years, I had flashbacks, panic attacks. I could barely trust anyone, let alone let them help me.” You paused, letting the weight of your past hang in the air for a moment. "But S.H.I.E.L.D. didn’t treat me like a broken weapon. They saw me as someone who could heal. They got me therapy, helped me recover. I trained as an agent, but I wasn’t just a soldier anymore. I was... something more. I spent years figuring out who I was again. I’m still figuring it out."

Bucky’s eyes softened even more. “So you’ve also been through hell.”

You nodded, locking eyes with him. “I have. But I’m here now. And I’m not that soldier anymore. Just like you, James. We’ve both come a long way.”

Bucky sat back for a moment, his eyes staring off into the distance as he processed your words. You could see the wheels turning in his mind, as if he were comparing your journey to his own, seeing the parallels in your stories. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable; it was filled with mutual understanding, shared pain, and healing.

Finally, his voice came low and sincere, with a weight that carried more meaning than you expected. “I get it now,” he said, his gaze softening as he looked at you, like he was seeing you in a new light. “I always thought I was the only one who went through that. That no one could possibly understand the kind of hell I went through. But you... you went through something just as brutal. And you made it out. Not just made it out—healed. That’s… that’s something. It takes real strength to do what you did. To come back from all of that and still keep your humanity.”

You felt your heart tighten at his words, but there was no sadness in them. Instead, it was admiration. Respect. You hadn’t realized just how much of an impact your story had on him until that moment, until you saw the understanding in his eyes.

“James, you’re not broken. You’re not the man they tried to make you into,” you said softly, reaching out to rest a hand on his. “Neither of us are. What we went through, it doesn’t define us. It’s who we are now, who we choose to be going forward.”

Bucky stared at your hand for a moment, then met your gaze again, his eyes wide with something between awe and gratitude. “I don’t know if I could’ve gotten through it without you, dove,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're the one who showed me it was possible to heal, to still be something good after everything. I don’t know how you did it, but I’m… I’m starting to believe that I can too.”

A small smile tugged at your lips as you squeezed his hand gently. “You already are, Buck’. You’re already healing. You just need to believe it.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The quiet was comfortable, not awkward, as Bucky’s words seemed to settle into your chest, a warm weight that felt like something shifting inside both of you. He understood now. He saw the strength in you, the same strength that had once seemed impossible to find in himself.

Then, with a small, almost hesitant smile, Bucky spoke again. “And to think, I thought I’d be the experiment and teach you how to get through all of this.”

You smiled softly at that. “You’re a work in progress, Barnes. But you’re getting there.”

He chuckled quietly. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it go to your head, dove.”

You laughed, nudging him again. “You’re lucky I like you.”

Bucky laughed, but it was a lighter sound, the weight of the conversation lifting a little. He leaned back against the armrest, still holding your hand, but this time, it felt different. Less like a lifeline and more like an understanding, a bond between two people who had walked similar dark paths and were finally finding their way into the light.

The quiet between you grew, not awkward, but warm and heavy with unspoken emotions. The soft hum of the city below seemed distant, a background melody to the quiet connection you shared. Reaching for a chocolate-covered strawberry on the plate between you, you held it up, your smile turning playful.

“You know,” you began, studying the glossy chocolate coating, “this kind of reminds me of life. The strawberry is the tough stuff—the tangy, bitter parts you have to get through. And the chocolate?” You grinned. “That’s the healing. The sweetness that makes all the hard stuff worth it.”

Bucky raised a brow, leaning slightly closer. “So what you’re saying is, we’re both just strawberries trying to coat ourselves in chocolate?” His lips curved into a lopsided smirk, the teasing glint in his eyes unmistakable.

You laughed softly, rolling your eyes. “Not exactly what I meant, but sure. If that helps you sleep at night.”

Before you could take a bite, his metal hand reached out, swift but deliberate, and plucked the strawberry from your fingers. His smirk widened as he held it up to his lips, taking a slow, deliberate bite. His eyes never left yours as he chewed, and there was something almost maddening about the mischievous twinkle in his gaze.

“Hey!” you protested, feigning offense as you leaned forward. “That was mine.”

He shrugged, holding out the remaining half toward you with an innocent tilt of his head. “Sharing is caring, dove.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but despite your mock irritation, a smile tugged at your lips. Leaning closer, you took a careful bite, the rich sweetness of the chocolate blending with the tartness of the strawberry on your tongue. You leaned back with a satisfied hum, but before you could savor it fully, Bucky’s expression shifted, his brow furrowing slightly.

“You’ve got some chocolate,” he murmured, his tone softer now, almost tender.

You blinked as he reached out, his metal thumb brushing the corner of your lip with a featherlight touch. The sensation was fleeting, yet it sent a small shiver down your spine. Then, before you could react, he brought his thumb to his lips, licking away the smudge of chocolate with a casual ease that left your heart pounding.

“Not bad,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a small smirk, as though entirely unaware of the effect he was having on you.

You swallowed hard, your thoughts scrambling for something witty to say, but the words caught in your throat as Bucky’s gaze softened. He leaned in slightly, his movements slow and deliberate, his attention flicking between your eyes and your lips.

“Is this okay?” he asked quietly, his voice low and careful, as though he was afraid of breaking the moment.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you nodded, your voice barely a whisper. “Yeah, it’s okay.”

His lips brushed against yours with a hesitance that made your heart flutter, as though he were trying to pour every unspoken word, every unacknowledged feeling, into that single, delicate moment. There was a warmth to his touch, not just physical but something deeper—a quiet reverence that made you feel seen, understood in a way you hadn’t expected. His lips were soft, yet there was a firmness in the way he pressed them against yours, as if he were grounding himself at the moment, testing its reality.

It wasn’t hurried, not the kind of kiss borne out of passion or desperation, but one that carried weight, and sincerity. He kissed you with an almost fragile hope, like he was afraid that pushing too hard might shatter whatever fragile thread had brought you both here. His breath mingled with yours, faint and steady, a subtle reminder of how close you were.

Your hand drifted to his shoulder, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as if anchoring yourself to him, to this moment. His shoulder felt solid beneath your touch, a quiet reassurance of his presence. You leaned in, tilting your head slightly to deepen the connection, mirroring his pace. The sweetness of the chocolate and the faint tang of the strawberry lingered between you, blending with the warmth of his kiss and creating a sensory memory you knew you wouldn’t forget.

His hand—flesh, not metal—came to rest lightly on your jaw, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a touch so gentle it sent a shiver down your spine. His fingers curled slightly, cradling your face as though you were something precious, something worth holding onto. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was a conversation without words, an exchange of trust, of vulnerability.

When he pulled back, it wasn’t sudden. He lingered close, his lips barely grazing yours as his breath warmed your skin. His forehead dipped to rest lightly against yours, his eyes still closed as if he were savoring the moment, reluctant to let it end. You stayed there for a moment, the world around you fading into nothing but the soft sound of your breaths and the steady rhythm of your heartbeats, perfectly in sync.

When he finally opened his eyes, the blue of his gaze was deeper, softer, filled with an emotion you could barely put into words. He looked at you like you were something sacred, something that had started to piece together parts of himself he hadn’t realized were broken.

You smiled softly, your thumb brushing against his arm. “You okay?” you asked, your voice gentle, a little breathless.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his lips curving into a shy smile. “More than okay.”

His hand lingered on your jaw for a moment longer, his thumb tracing the faintest line along your cheek before he pulled it away, his gaze never leaving yours. You weren’t sure what would come next, but for now, this was enough. This was everything.

“You’ve got a weird way of sharing strawberries,” you teased softly, your voice barely above a whisper, though it carried a warmth that matched the steady thrum in your chest.

Bucky let out a chuckle, his lips quirking into a shy smile. “Yeah, well, you’ve got a weird way of making metaphors. I think we’re even.”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the weight of the past seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the warmth of his presence and the quiet promise of what could come next.

PART ONE. l NEXT PART.

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[no-144444]

injury causer- l.sargeant

Day 11 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist

summary: logan can't look where he's going, too bad he runs straight into you.

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You were the lead mechanic on the Andretti Indycar team. You dealt with Kyle Kirkwood and his massive ego all day, everyday. You could’ve sworn everyone hated him by the way he was looked at by other paddock employees. He was nice when the cameras were out but other than that? Asshole. 

You knelt down, trying to get a good look at the car when someone somehow didn’t see you, walked straight into you, kicking you directly in the stomach. 

“Fuck! Sorry!” he immediately rushed out, leaning down to help you out. 

“Watch where you’re going please?” you scoffed, standing up. Kyle laughed as he started sputtering through an apology. You knew who he was, he was Logan Sargeant, a fucking F1 driver. You didn’t care. You weren’t dealing with another asshole’s huge ego today, not that you thought Logan would have one, you knew what he was like, but then again, F1 can change people. You looked at Kyle, who subtly whispered to him to stop apologising. “Drivers aren’t the only people who make the sport happen, dickhead.”

He looked taken aback. “Come one Y/n, it was-”

 “I’m super sorry, I just… I didn’t realise where I was stepping. Sorry again,” Logan interjected. 

“Y/n, stop being a bitch alright?” Kyle scoffed, and you genuinely could’ve killed him. 

“Dude, that’s a dick move,” Logan turned to his friend with a look of disgust. “Apologise.”

Now it was Kyle’s turn to look shocked. “What do you mean?” he scoffed. 

“I mean apologise, you’re being an asshole,” Logan replied calmly. 

Kyle scoffed, which turned into a laugh. 

“I’ll cut your breaks,” you threatened, shutting him up. “And thank you Logan, but that’s alright. I don’t think the word ‘sorry’ is in his vocabulary.” 

Logan turned to Kyle again. “Dude, you’re being a dick. Apologise.”

“Sorry,” he scoffed, and walked off.

“I’m so sorry about him,” Logan sighed. “He can be-”

“An asshole all the time? Yeah, I know,” you nodded. “I'm sorry that you’re his friend.”

He chuckled. “He’s not that bad.”

“Trust me, he is.”

He smiled at you. Internally, he was losing it over the fact that you were standing in front of him, talking to him. He had basically been in love with you since you were both 15. You’d been Adrian Newey’s prodigy as you came up through the motorsports world, and after a bad crash you didn’t get back in the car. That meant you turned to understanding the car, how it worked, how to design one, how to make it safer, make it faster. You knew everything about Indycar, Formula 1, Formula 2, Formula 3, Formula 4 cars. You had even designed some of the best karts in the world. You designed the Mclaren car this year, you’d conceptualised the rear-wing, you’d made it all happen for them, and now you were at Andretti, ready to make them winners. On top of that, you were designing for 6 of the 10 F1 teams, 1 of the 11 F2 teams, and 2 of the 10 F3 teams. Your resume was more than packed, but Logan liked you. You had always been kind to him. Coming up through the European side of motorsport, making friends wasn’t always easy. Yes, he had Oscar, but Oscar also had Zhou, Fred, Paul, and anyone else. Oscar was busy most of the time, so Logan would just hang around the paddock. That’s when he met you. You’d invite him to RedBull team stuff and you ended up spending a lot of time together. 

“It’s nice to see you again,” he smiled. 

“It’s nice to see you again,” you smiled back. “How’s Prema treating you?”

“Good. Better than Williams,” he shrugged. 

“I wanted to reach out after it happened but I think you changed your number,” you admitted. “You deserved so much more than that team. Everyone knows what a talented driver you are.”

He shrugged, his face heating up. “Thank you, it means a lot.”

“Well, it was nice to see you, I’d better get back to it-”

“Here’s my number,” he said, handing you a slip of paper. “I’d like you call me sometimes- I-I’d like to call sometimes- I like you, call me- I-”

“I like you too, and yes, I will call you ,” you chuckled, endeared by his embarrassing moment. 

He shook his head, drowning in embarrassment. He smiled and waved as you walked back to your desk, happy that, at the very least, he had your number.

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[moonstruckdraws]

Hephaestus & Algaea

Trust is not given, it's forged.

Ver. 2

ver. 1

Look at thaaaaat another God on my list. Of course I had to do another Goddess though cause they're too fun to make- So I made his wife (who I didn't know was his wife until a while ago) Algaea, one of the Charities/Kharities!

Before I start to spew nonsense and act like I know what I'm doing with these designs, I must give mention to @superscrub323 because of their help. I would not have the ideas of what to do with Hephaestus (and ESPECIALLY Algaea) if now for their assistance, so I take no credit in the rambling I will be doing in this post, except for a few things. Thank you again, I really appreciate it. :]

Now to rambling (edit: this is quite a long one, sorry):

His clothes are the most.. different out of everyone else with one of his sacred animals just plastered on it instead of incorporating it in a more creative way, but honestly I was so frustrated making his design.. He's the most likely to get changed for better detail (like on his belt I just blanked and moved on until adding that heart lock, but I'll get to that). Same for his prosthetic leg. I just had to get something down on the canvas or else I'd be stuck. But I'll be redoing that too to be better.

For starters, if you're wondering why he ain't in an apron or any blacksmithing attire it's because I like to think Hephaestus is so comfortable and used to forging that he wouldn't see a need to change. If he gets the job done, does it matter what he wears? (my real answer is because I didn't want to because I had.. like no inspiration to-) He gets his clothes dirty and covered in dust, so I imagine Algaea making him promise to wear an apron more often. He will probably have goggles in the future too, but right now he doesn't.

Giving him an arm made of magma and rock was not my idea, but it is such a sick idea. I'm not surprised to see others take the same approach because honestly it's incredibly cool. Hephaestus is described as lame because of his leg(s) or apparently his face (???), which the latter I never understood when younger. Idk if that's a newer thing or not, but it just didn't make sense to me, and still kinda doesn't. When asked if I wanted to go with the prosthetic or an ugly face, I went with the prior because I didn't want to do anything to his face, but ended up making half of his face magma so- I interpret it as, after being thrown off Olympus, he lands on his face so hard it breaks (do the gods have bones..??) his skull. That gets hardened & fixed by magma, while the surface skin remains just plain magma (idk how it stays in okay-). His other leg being made of magma and rock was another idea I thought of, and saw when looking for refs, so I thought it'd be cool to have that with his arm.

Gave him a beard. Plan was to have him be bald, but stars, I am a sucker for a man bun so he has that now- also told that since he likes to make jewelry, I should deck him out in it. Obviously he is not decked out in it- again, no ideas in my brain, and with all the magma, he was getting cluttered as it was. And jeez this is going on long- why does he and Algaea have the most symbolism rn?-

Moving onto Algaea, the youngest Kharities out of the three, which I never remember for the life of me, I always think she's the oldest. Probably because alphabetically.. Anyway, I was suggested to give her a fuller body and make her have accent purple. Also was suggested to give her blonde hair in a braid, but I went for ombre instead as I imaged her hair to be brown. Why not mix the two? I also wanted her hair to be up in a bun (higher up than Hera and Athena's) and added braids in that.

Also side headcanon that I plan to give all the Kharities (those outside of the main three as well) flowers on the side of their heads (because Antheia has em, so I thought why not)

However the flowers she and her two sisters are going to have are poppies of different colors, and be part antelope. The Kharities (at least when I tried looking, but I also could've not looked hard enough) had no sacred animal or plant that I could find, so I got creative.. anemones, or Poppies, are sacred flowers to Aphrodite (due to the whole Adonis thing), so I'm giving it to the three Kharities just by that association. And I added the antelope because it symbolizes grace & beauty, just like they do. Because Algaea is the youngest, I gave her the shortest horns (and plan for Euphrosyne to have those boomerang-shaped horns & Thalia to have the spiral ones). She has three heart clips on her person as an attendant to Aphrodite & being the third daughter. And she's in jewelry of course, though the patterns on her clothes will likely change to be better.

Final thing: the heart lock & key. I wanted to add something to Algaea, and an open spot was her neck, so I was going to give her a necklace with a key on it. But I went to look up how keys looked in Ancient Greece, and well, it's too big to be a neckpiece lol, but I did find images of Roman keys and decided to use that. Problem was, I didn't like how it looked, so I moved it. To her bracelet. Originally in its place was a donkey, but I put the key there and thought it would be cool if the key was like a spare key to Hephaestus's forge. It's tucked into the bracelet and no one would be the wiser (good on you Hephaestus). And I gave him a heart lock because, c'mon- (I needed to fill the space on his belt it's so gosh darn bland I can'tttttt! I want to fix it so bad but I'm so OVER HIM RIGHT NOW) whatever I'll get to it.

oh also he cools down his magma so he doesn't burn her. okay that's it-

[mrsbsmooth]

Deuces

I just got another ask from one of you lovely people noticing I'm completely MIA from the fandom over the past two seasons. I scrolled through my inbox and while I don't foresee myself replying to every ask, I thought I'd just jump on real quick and let you guys know why I'm not playing any more?

Trying really hard to not make this sound like a 'this isn't an airport you don't need to announce your departure' etc but regardless.

There's not one reason in particular, really. There's multiple. Firstly, and probably most importantly, I'm busy. I've mentioned a few times I've got a kid, and she's now almost two, so you can imagine a lot of my time's being taken up by running around after an active toddler, working, and trying to keep some semblance of a healthy lifestyle. The hours I do have to myself comprise the second reason. I've found something else that challenges me more creatively than writing for LITG does. I know HP isn't everyone's cup of tea but the ship I'm writing has forced me to develop my skills as a writer so much more than I felt I could in LITG, and if I ever want to publish something, I need to focus on things that are challenging me creatively. Reading over my LITG fics, honestly, the haters were right. All my characters are written the same, they have the same dialogue--- to whoever it was that sent me that hate ask like two years ago, hold on to it. You were right. But I've improved. A lot. So thank you, I guess, for putting that in my head and forcing me to be better. Sometimes you gotta let the haters win, because the haters are telling you what you need to hear.

The third reason is probably the biggest, and the one that you guys assumed. I'm bored. I'm bored and disappointed with this game that I so used to love. They keep dropping the same broad-shouldered, skinny-nose character design over and over and over. The same gimmicks and one-dimensional characters and stupid clichés and it's boring. I've seen snippets of great dialogue and some great feedback but overall it's just the same shit again. It's the same lazy storylines, the same forced drama with no basis, the same lame ideas just tied up with a different ribbon, and I'm fucking bored.

I'm probably still gonna play THTH, I'll be honest. I can't see myself missing out on that. But, at least until I see someone I trust assuring me the game's back on track, I'm out. I just don't see the point any more. I still duck in and out of the discords to keep up with people I love but short of the annual Christmas fic exchange I can't see myself writing for LITG again. I'm sorry to disappoint.

My WIPs will stay WIPs. I'm not going to take them down, but I'm also not actively working on them either. I want to finish Unhealthy, but it probably won't be for quite a while. I'm sorry to those who are invested or waiting for updates. I just don't care about it any more, and I don't want to force words when I don't care about them.

I appreciate every single one of you who reached out asking if I was okay. Or everyone who's read one of my fics, sent me an ask, been a fun, welcoming member of this fandom. You are all wonderful. Gorgeous humans, each and every one of you. I love you to pieces and I can't wait for THTH to drop so we can play again.

Love you all.

So much.

Suz (MrsBSmooth / Pearlbracelet)

[iridescentmirrorsgenshin]

Kaveh is like this close to committing a sin with Mehrak, like he's playing a really dangerous game. It's just a matter of time Mehrak gets even more sentient when it's already this far. I know Kaveh keeps it in check, but man... I hope they'll talk about this one day. Either that or Kaveh will always brush it off, as if he didn't get some ancient core to build it??? Also, I always love your thoughts, thanks for loving these two so much!

hiya! thank you for your ask! i'm so glad you enjoy my posts :") <3 Mehrak’s existence is so ??? funny to me. we have tighnari’s story quest detailing the akademiya’s ban on research into mechanical lifeforms, directly alongside kaveh building his own mechanical lifeform and parading it around, sending it on solo coffee retrieving missions whilst everyone in sumeru looks on smiling <3

Mehrak’s legality hasn’t been mentioned at all in-game as of now, and as it’s been used consistently, both in kaveh’s hangout, a parade of providence, and now nahida’s birthday event, with not one mention of legality or potential trespasses, makes it seem that that’s how things will stay - especially since Cyno has met/is aware of mehrak’s existence during the battle scene during a parade of providence (then again, cyno did meet the wanderer during this event, and yet in nahida’s birthday event it seems he’s only HEARD of the wanderer through sethos??) but even then, since Cyno trusts Tighnari with karkata’s continued existence, it’s likely not a stretch to say that to Cyno, Kaveh can be trusted with Mehrak’s existence (it’s all very iffy)

Mehrak’s existence, overall, has had little focus other than its usage in battle, its official introduction in a parade of providence, where kaveh stipulates it has low intelligence, and was built to assist him, as well as being incapable of talking back and giving him ‘attitude’ (implicitly comparing mehrak to alhaitham), and in kaveh’s hangout when he works on designing a building. It’s only in recent events, such as cyno’s second story quest, and now in nahida’s birthday event, that mehrak has gotten more mentions, and now a spotlight, which is all in relation to coffee, tying back to alhaitham and kaveh’s improved relationship (the coffee analysis will be in the updated essay finally!!). as of right now, overall, mehrak doesn’t appear to be a major focus

It might be strange for the game to mention now that mehrak has been an illegal creation all this time, unless it’s a significant plot point that has to be resolved, but if mehrak is further explored, like in the temple of silence for example (hoyoverse I am once again asking), then perhaps this collective ignoring of a crime occurring will be explained away, if mentioned at all? It’s interesting that tighnari says it might be possible that this ban is reversed in the future, but as for whether that will actually happen, and the implications of this, aren’t clear

Mehrak’s accepted existence in general poses so many questions. I’m interested in the specifics of the ban, like does it depend on the autonomy of the machine in question? Abattouy aimed to make Karkata essentially human, capable of individual thought, processing, emotion, and conversation, which definitively broaches on the intersection of mechanical and biological life which caused the Akademiya to ban this type of research in the first place. So if a machine is able to act on its own, irrespective of human interference, then this is what the akademiya would want to prevent

In mehrak’s case, it’s unclear as to what its limits are, but from what has been shown so far, it seems that mehrak can only act on kaveh’s commands and when held in battle – it’s uncertain rn whether mehrak can act independently of this, but as kaveh invented it to only assist in certain matters, it’s doubtful. But then again, we don’t have a great scope of whether it can experience emotions, as it has shown signs of being distressed in a parade of providence when kaveh states that it can’t talk back, and when being scolded by kaveh in nahida’s birthday event

if mehrak has limited intelligence, it's interesting to compare mehrak with karkata. abattouy was attempting to make karkata understand human language, and be able to respond in order to have conversation, which was proved impossible, whereas although mehrak only speaks in beeps, kaveh is shown to have a thorough understanding of what it’s saying? Mehrak can be programmed to recognise people’s voices, but seemingly also language, as mehrak can obey spoken command, which is what abattouy tried to accomplish but was unable to with modern technology.

Mehrak, on the other hand, understands kaveh’s basic requests – which is made even funnier in kaveh’s old sketchbook, where he says that more than anything he really wants mehrak to understand what he’s saying. he got his wish but at what cost???

Mehrak being made from ancient technology, belonging to that of king deshret’s civilisation, offers many interesting paths that could be explored in future events, as besides the primal constructs roaming around, the puzzles in the desert, and now the temple of silence, no technology really exists from that time. Someone commented that mehrak’s presence in nahida’s birthday event, in conjunction with the event being based around ancient technology with the wedjat eye, could be highlighting mehrak’s irregularity in modern day sumeru – potentially foreshadowing for a future event that could further expand upon mehrak? If this is the case, I am all for it, there are so many questions concerning kaveh’s little light <3

[helluva-simper]

Red Apples And Roses

this is a Radioapple fanfic series I'm working on. Hope it turns out good chat *tism noises*

Items were harshly thrown around as the room was filled with loud static.

“Sorry, dearest friend but I see no amusement in settling down. I don't understand why you cant seem to respect my decision…” Alastor says, his voice becoming more dark as he finishes his sentence.

He swiftly dodges as Vox attempts to throw a punch at him. “DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND?! WE COULD RULE ALL OF HELL AND YOU'RE THROWING IT AWAY BECAUSE YOU DON'T WANT TO ‘SETTLE’?!” Vox exclaims as he quickly balances himself, ready to strike again.

“Vox I wouldn't care to continue our friendship but this is just ridiculous. “ Alastor sighs before using his black tendrils to grab Vox and throw him across the room.

- - - - - -

They both fought tirelessly. The battle after a harsh punch to Vox’s screen. Alastor placed a foot to Vox's chest. “This… battle was entertaining enough but I…. I must make my leave….” Alastor said, throwing deep breaths before walking away.

He has to get away.

Now.

He forced his smile higher, his ears stood straight on his head. His fists clenched painfully as he continued walking through town trying to make it back to his tower or… somewhere no one could see him. Cannibal Town was too far and he didn't have enough energy- thanks to Vox- to teleport farther than a few feet.

To everyone else he seemed like his usual self: cruelty and egocentric wrapped together to take the form of a person. But the moment his vision blurred, he quickly looked around to see if anyone was around, which fortunately there wasn't, and dashed into a corner.

“Stupid… blasted… TV head….” Alastor mutters as he coughed holding his chest. He could feel that he didn't have any major injuries but that didn't defy the fact it hurt like a bitch.

He places his hand on his forehead. Think. He had to figure out how to get out lest he wanted to be caught. Until it happened.

- - - - - -

“Aright, Luci.” Lucifer says to himself as he throws on his shirt.

He was in his room. The room was covered in family pictures, golden ducks, intricate designs of apples. He walks to his windows to peek out a bit looking at the sinners that roamed the streets down in town.

“You got this. All you have to do is go down there, grab food, and get out. No interaction needed.” He confirmed. He grabbed his hat and pulled his coat on before snapping his fingers.

“Vin!” Lucifer calls out.

A short but tall for its species, imp appeared behind him. “VINCE!” Lucifer jumps, flinching away from the imp.

Vince was dressed in a white button up with an apple pin on his chest and the end of the shirt spiral designs on it. His pants were dark gray while his pure white hair was slicked back.

Lucifer straightens back up before glaring at Vince. “Yes, sire?” Vince asks as he clasps his hands behind his back. “Ehem… well… my favorite servant has gotten…. How do I put this lightly… the shit beat out of them and I don't trust anyone else to get my groceries since the…. incident¹.” (¹:The incident being when someone attempted to foolishly poison Lucifer. Like he may be depressed and have a bit of autism but that also has the bonus deal of anxiety. Who doesn't thoroughly check through every meal you have before eating it?)

Vince nods before asking, “So… what do you require of me?” Lucifer chuckles nervously. “Moral support?” He replies, his voice becoming squeaky. Vince looks at him with an expressionless face. Lucifer takes that as an okay before walking towards the door before the awkwardness gets thicker.

- - - - - -

Demons scattered as Lucifer walked through the streets. “Look intimidating. Look intimidating. Look intimidating.” Lucifer repeated In his mind as he continued.

Vince and Lucifer had finally finished the shopping spree and were walking home. Lucifer looked behind him to see Vince effortlessly holding about 5 grocery bags in both hands. Lucifer walks slower before bending down to him. “Is that all on the list?” Lucifer whispers. “Yes, my liege.”

Lucifer lets out a sigh of relief. “Stupid… blasted… TV head….” A static, raspy voice mutters loud enough for him to hear it. Lucifer pauses.

What in the world?

Lucifer walks faster to find the sound before pausing in front of an alleyway to see a disheveled, raggedy, ugly dressed man slumped against a wall.

“Who-” “The radio demon sir. The infamous Overlord known for his ruthlessness and cruelty.” Vince explained. Lucifer spews nonsense before ending it with “What, who?”

(this was not proof read yet)

Next

[ivesambrose]

Rest of 2023 Forecast 🎐

1. 2. 3.

Just like that, it's already autumn 🍁

How was everyone's year so far?

Mine was rather eventful towards the later half.

But let's take a look into what the closing messages of 2023 are for you 🩵

To book a personal reading with me DM or email me at Ivesambrose@gmail.com

Personal Readings

Masterpost

Thank you for the tip

Picture 1

Realizing that you want to do and achieve certain things for yourself and not because someone expects way too much from you and you have to somehow gain their validation. However, you'll also come across people who inspire creativity in you and encourage you to step into your power, be more assertive without the fear of standing out.

Whatever labour you put in around this time will have it's turn out by next year. Stay patient, it will be rewarded.

You'll slowly see fortune turn in your favor, there might be sudden changes that push you to walk away from a certain place or situation but you'll be happy to do so. It's likely you were waiting for it for the most part of thr year and it's happening now.

Some of you might also hit the lottery, win a jackpot, receive unexpected money through your business, work or just randomly have it come to you.

You'll be making plans for the next year to venture out, manifest important connections, make travel plans etc you'll be looking forward to having fun and admist all the fun you'll see situations that earlier were out of control or stagnant, fall into place for you.

Be wary of certain manipulative people who seem all talk no show, they're just trying to dupe you into something. Trust your intuition here.

If you have a business or working on launching one, you'll find the right people and see a lot of growth. Have faith in your abilities.

Picture 2

Initially I see you being conflicted with something, being unable to decide with the number of options in front of you. You might also be picturing the possible ways certain things can or will play out in your life and trying to stick to the best case scenario. Eventually, you'll be able to focus. You just require some discipline.

You may also be unable to see the progress you've made so far or are making but it'll suddenly occur to you that you've indeed climbed to the top of the ladder and overcame a lot of obstacles, you're almost there, so it's best to simply enjoy the process and the journey since success is imminent if you don't stop.

There's a possible union with someone special or even celebration with your friends. Gifts being exchanged and a lot of financial prosperity coming your way.

I see by the end of this year you'll be feeling lavish and happy since something significant came through somehow.

I heard the words, "seems I'm lucky after all!"

Picture 3

It may have been a tumultuous year so far, good news is thar youre finally finding your center. Body and mind in sync, slowing down and offering a better perspective of things.

For a lot of you, I see that you had been struggling with your health a lot both physical and mental, you'll be seeing considerable progress. You might start getting into exercise again, likely lower intensity ones, it will give you better benefits as well as put you in a meditative state.

Your true glow up starts now. Instead of pushing yourself to break and grind in order get something you'll simply allow yourself to receive. You might feel creative and want to get back to the arts be in sketching, keeping an art book, makeup, even cooking or fashion/fashion design. You'll be feeling more beautiful inside and out.

You'll be excited to welcome the new year, a new chapter of your life is beginning. You'll be feeling more energised and hopeful. Attend more events, celebrate with friends, make new ones, travel etc

You have a lot of intellect and wisdom, there's a power in your words as well as your voice, you'll be influencing the right people who'd want to be around you or know you personally. Have discernment when letting anyone in, eitherway the right ones will stay and add value to your life.

[maxdibert]

am the anon that quotes Sirius - just to let you know that you entirely misinterpreted my point lmao 😭😭

I am not talking about bullying, I am saying that your take that Severus was bullied because of class is a limited argument focused only on one part of a multi-faceted reason.

What I mean is, you can't call James a classist prick without acknowledging that Severus himself indulged in and upheld the system; that during the first war he likely 'acted' pureblood in the same way that Voldemort and Umbridge did, and that Severus, by being surrounded by purebloods, increased his status to the point where Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy both praise and seem to trust him - benefiting from the same system that he suffered from!

I'm in no way denying that he was the victim of bullying that is in part due to the classist society of the wizarding world, but post Hogwarts and especially during the HP timeline, he IS a classist prick.

Man, I adore Snape, but seeing your posts about him make me so perplexed.

James flaunted his pureblood privilege without a care, always playing the hero while trampling over everyone. He acted superior, and his arrogance and entitlement left a trail of hurt that still affects people. Severus, on the other hand, was a complex guy who faced real struggles every day. He wasn’t choosing to join an oppressive system; he was forced into a world that valued status over genuine character. His behavior was about survival and navigating a society stacked against him, not pure malice. Sure, he made questionable choices, but those were desperate moves in a system designed to crush him. Meanwhile, James used his charm and privilege to reinforce classist ideals, perpetuating an environment of exclusion and elitism. When you really dig into their backstories, it becomes clear that James is part from a toxic hierarchy, while Severus was merely trying to survive. In a nutshell, James is a smug, entitled bully who fed into a flawed system while Severus emerges as a figure forced into impossible choices: having nothing and follow the bad ones who offered him a place to belong, something that James not only didn’t do but also deny him by bullying him constantly and taking advantage thanks to his social and economical possition.

[spiceofvy]

Hi! Can I please request relationship headcanons for BTS members with a non celebrity, female reader? Thank you ❤️

BTS - Dating a non celebrity

a/n: omg this is my first time writing about the vocal line, so i'm kinda nervous right now, but also i really like how this turned out, so i hope you enjoy it too! also i'm super sorry but i totally forgot that you asked for a fem!reader. the headcanons honestly wouldn't have been any different except for me using gendered language anyway. so i hope you still like it!

cws: sfw, gender neutral reader, fluff, nothing to note here tbh, except for one (1) slightly sexual line (hoseok ofc)

Seokjin: No matter how many prizes he wins, how much the newspapers praise him, at the end of the day the only compliments that matter to him are those coming from you. He wants to hear how much you love his voice, how good he looked, how amazed you were by his performance. He's only satisfied with his work when you declare how utterly and irrevocably in love you are with him. But don't worry, he will return all this love whenever he can, calling you the cutest nicknames, cooking for you whenever you want and believe me when I tell you that this man will show you off to everyone. He wants everyone to know how amazing you are and that you are his to love.

Hoseok: Hoseok sees his main goal in being your boyfriend and an idol in being able to spoil you rotten. Shirts from his favorite designers, tailored jeans to make sure that you legs always look perfect, the most expensive shoes you've ever worn. What's the point in being rich if he doesn't spend the money on you? And you really can't get him to stop, even if you make more money than him. He will still feel the need to spoil you. And of course drown you in compliments. Tracing his hands over your body as you try on some tight clothes, making sure they highlight all his favorite parts of you. Just to rip those clothes off of you at home later.

Yoongi: I know it's a cliche, but he writes love songs about you. And sad songs when he misses you on tour. And happy songs when he sees you sleep on the couch on the studio, feeling completely at peace with him. He just writes a lot of songs about you. You are his inspiration and his muse. Many of those songs never get released, they stay between the two of you, shared during emotional moments, followed by soft talking and sweet kisses. You are also Holly's co-parent. And in almost every photo Yoongi has in his Holly-Journal. He doesn't mind keeping you away from the public, unless it's about the basketball games he gets invited to, especially if you also love the game. He is pretty sad about not being able to also share this passion of his with you.

Namjoon: He is obsessed with your normal day to day life. Which he honestly misses a lot. Please tell him about your run to the grocery store, how overrun the subway was, the cute dog you saw today. He loves to hear about it all and will never get tired of hearing you talk about your day. He sometimes just wants to take you on walks through the city, but due to his popularity it's really hard. So he just schedules those walks to the night, when it's raining and the streets are empty. He also low key posts you on his insta. He is the king of soft launching. There are your shoes in the background, two bowls of food on the table, a sweater he's never seen wearing before on the couch, a shadow in the mirror in the background. It's his favorite little game, how well he can hide you in open sight.

Jimin: You are his number one tripod for his content. He 100 percent trusts you vision when it comes to filming his dance videos or taking his photos. Even if you have no former experience in those areas. He also takes you everywhere! This man is absolutely shameless in taking you to work with him. He doesn't even care if his explanations, why he needs you at set with him all the time are not making sense. He introduced you at one photoshoot first as his personal assistant in addition to his actual assistant, later as his translator the shooting was in korea so no need for a translator and his emotional support human okay this was probably a joke on his side. No one ever dares to object anyways. Including those times when he uses his times with highly ranked stylists to get you set up with some pretty new clothes instead of preparing for his upcoming comeback.

Taehyung: He is in desperate need for a calm spot of comfort in his life and you are that to him. Far away from all the hectic that comes with being an Idol you are his home and the place where he can 100 percent be himself. After a long day he loves nothing more than to fall onto the couch next to you and hug you tightly until he falls asleep. As you talk about your day, petting his soft hair. When he can't come home to you, he calls you in the evening when he is in bed at some hotel on the other side of the world. Just needing to hear your voice to finally calm his mind. Additionally Yeontan loves you almost as much as he loves Tae so you are the perfect dog sitter, and yes this includes managing the scheduled facetimes between the two of them when Tae is on tour.

Jungkook: Please note that he will kick you out of whatever room he wants to stream in, when he streams. Your shared apartment? No it's his personal filming studio and you live in it. I hope you are good at turning off cameras without being visible on them, because that is your job whenever he falls asleep on the camera. But all jokes aside he is always so excited to come to you after streams, asking if you watched it. You didn't need to, because you could hear him in the next room over, but just say yes, because he loooves you validation. "Did you like that photoshoot I did? What do you think about my dancing in that tiktok? Did I sound good during that performances?" It's almost as bad as Jin but Jungkook pairs it with his huge pretty puppy eyes, tearing into your soul. Also, he will tease you with his song lyrics, especially the spicy ones. Just to get really flustered by your answer afterwards.

[heartavenue]

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ • Word Association •⊹₊ ⋆୨ৎ

this is a shifting exercise by @zaddizu thank you so much for doing this I had so much fun making this post <3 answering this for my better cr #permashifting

⟡ music . . . music is so so so important to me here. one thing Love LOVES is music, in fact! I love it so much that I attend a performing arts academy with my focus being dance! however I do write, sing, and produce my own music. ever since I was a little girl I loved music and dance, I mean I used to sit there and watch music video with my sister for hours. after which the two of us would come together to replicate the choreography from our favorite ones. it is my dream to be a dancer in this reality, whether I be a choreographer or a back up dancer to some big time celeb it doesn't matter as long as I can move my feet.

Now here are some songs that reminds me of my

Someone- Min Jiwoon

Telephone- Lady Gaga & Beyonce

Video Phone- Beyonce ft Lady Gaga

Automatic- Red Velvet

Only- Lee Hi

Like I Love You- Justin Timberlake

yes, I do realize this is such a random assortment of songs nonetheless these are the ones!

⟡ adrenaline . . . one word: performing. that is what gets my adrenal glands going. I mean getting up in front of all those people and giving them my best shot? oh please that is beyond nervewracking! one moment that gave me such an adrenaline rush was when I was auditioning for Shake It Up, having to dance in front of a hundred others was just so rushing. but I enjoyed it so much! and hey I got on the show so it all worked out in the end (as per usual.)

⟡ colour . . . pink. (for moi ofc) for this I think I'm going to assign each member of my family a color that is just them. my mom: brown, sage green, rustic yellow, and dark orange. my dad: deep blue, dark purple, gray, white, and black. my brothers (the twins operate as one trust) black, white, and silver. my sister: rouge, maroon, dark brown, and eggshell.

⟡ love . . . I immediately thought about my s/o, my first and only love. I don't really like talking about her solely because she is a precious treasure that I am very cautious and possessive of. she is so personal and special to me that I don't want the thought of her to be inside of anyone's head except mine. is this a little crazy? maybe but she's all mine, she's all me.

⟡ happiness . . . my girlfriend, my family, more specifically, my sister, my music, dancing, iced coffee, matcha, home cooked meals, producing, creating, beauty, fashion, art, dr pepper, arnold palmers, vivienne westwood, Prada, Christian dior, juicy corture, and my vintage classic pink Cadillac. that is what brings me happiness.

⟡ touch . . . cause you been so out of touch touch touch touch touch (I had to do it) for this one I also immediately thought of my s/o therefore I will not expound anymore on this.

⟡ mess . . . I have the midas touch, or in my case the love touch everything I touch turns into utter perfection. "mess" isn't even in my vocabulary, next!

⟡ items . . . Prada bag, le creuset dishware, my pretty pink carabiner, Christian louboutin pink heels, my ballet shoes, Dior lip oil, black card, and my Vivienne westwood everything.

⟡ sentimentalism . . . mhm I'm going to say the way I still hold on to my childhood things, my dolls, CDs, hell arts and crafts even! I just hold on to so much stuff because they all hold such great memories.

⟡ art . . . this one oddly made me think of Michaelangelo I have no idea why? but we have artworks all over my house, we need art. I mean I go to a performing arts school, music, dance, theater, painting all of those are under the art umbrella. I don't mind stopping by a painting and gazing at it for a few seconds, I even plan on going the louvre one day to see the famous painting myself. art is wonderful, it keeps the world going. hell I think everyone in my family is an artist of some sort, my sister is a fashion designer and my brothers can produce the hell out of something. art is in our blood.

⟡ adventure . . . everyday here. everyday. my family and I go on vacation every summer to a new spot so trust me my life is pretty adventurous.

⟡ quiet . . . in the arms of my lover.

⟡ home . . . my childhood home, I mean I still live there. that house is my home, no matter where I go I will always long for my house. that house is apart of me, it is my refuge, it is my favorite vacation spot, it is where my favorite memories where made.

[celestia0473]

Van dan Linde gange x Cannibal! Reader.

Notes:Reader is nonbinary but you can see them as female or male,English isn't my first language,Reader backstory is lowkey similar to Bubba Sawyer,You're the oldest sibling,Platonic but can be seen as romantic,Reader described to be creepy and quiet,You're also 30 years old,I gained motivation after seeing tcm,Possibly in Michigan and listing to butcher vanity and masa work design,I also didn't include everyone from the gang here sorry :p

Warning:Cannibalism,Murder,implied necrophilia(No,nobody actually do it but it's mention)Mention of molesting,Foul language,Etc,May be ooc,Tell me if i missed anything that could be triggering,Abuse,Angst,Meat lot of meat.

•When you were young,Your family were always poor and hungry,So they found a way to survive and keep their full and satisfied,By eating each other.

•It end up being a tradition in your family,A fucked up one for sure,Most of your siblings are a bunch of rabid animals,After all eating food that always beg and scream will cause you to have mental problems and stress.

•And your parents are even worse than your siblings,Ever since you turned 10 they make you bait some people to join you for dinner or to find your missing jewelry in the forest.

•Of course it was a lie,You father either shoot them or knock them out,And when you grew up they make you do different types of chores and taking the job of killing men,Women and even children.

•They always move from location to another,Camping here and there to avoid suspicion.

•You had a sane mind at least,Well not the sanest mind but at least you know what you're doing is wrong,But you do them due of fear,And probably desires,You can't help yourself but salivating at the sight of blood,Despite the metallic taste.

•When you grew up,You end up having enough,Your family always make you do the hunt and chores,Always yelling,Always fighting,So you end up blowing their brain off and enjoyed dinner,Finally free.

•Stealing a horse and your father shotgun and dagger(Or any weapon you want i know shotgun are probably not well known during those times but they are so cool),hiding your family bones,And you start with going to a town and buy important tools for survival.

•You end up becoming an outlaw,Aside from killing you had a hidden talent of stealing and pickpocket,After all your family can't always live on human meat only,The also need vegetables and seasoning you know! Oh wait they are dead.

•Even after you become free and you could live with animals meat instead of human,You couldn't handle it,The argue whatever you see blood or meat,You can't control it.

•Long story short,You have been pretty lonely and bored these days(Especially after becoming a well known outlaw),You wanted a new family or at least a partner,Maybe you can join a gang?

•Your wishes come true one day,You met Dutch vand dan Linde,You told him about how you want to join this gang,And how talented and skilled you are,Of course he didn't trusted you at first and rejected your wish,But after few times he finally agreed.

"Thank you thank you so much! I promise i will be useful" You said happily while riding your horse with Dutch,With your weapons,Items and everything.

"Yes yes,I know you said this for the third time" Dutch sighed,He sounds annoyed.

"Oh sorry,I'm just too excited" You haven't changed that much ever since you were a kid,Carving for prise and love,You have been lonely for a long time,You almost missed your family.

•Where you were finally in the camp,You were grinning from ear to ear,Some members noticed the new face.

"Aye who's this fine beauty?" A guy with a ginger hair point in your direction while whistling.

"This is (First name) (last name)! The newest addition to the family,Make sure to welcome them warmly!" Dutch yelled loud enough so everyone can hear.

•Dutch told you at first to rest today and fit in the gang,Then the next day you do multiple works and chores,Before leaving your side.

•Unfortunately,Most of them know you as the violent criminal who gut people with no sense of remorse,You aren't very different from them though,Some of them felt uneasy around you but they were nice like Mary Beth,Lenny and Karen,Others feel a bit skeptical about Dutch choice of making you join the gang like Arthur,Javier and Housea.

•Meanwhile there's Sean who flirted with you,You replied with a thanks thinking it was a nice gesture,But Mary beth glared at him and told him to no bother you while holding your hand.

•Micah on the another hand was completely rude and bitter,Always getting under your skin,sending nasty glares and comment whatever you bump shoulders,Tilly told you to he's usually like this and it's better to ignore him.

•After doing your tent,And tidying your items,you pick up your special meat and seasoning and give it to hosea saying that you can help him with the cooking,He agreed.

•He was asking about the type of meat and seasoning that you're going to cook,You lied about the meat,Saying it was pork,He replied with a hum.

•Later during the night,The gang were drinking and celebrating about the new member,Lot of the members were eating your soup,Praising Hosea.

"Oh no you should actually thank (First name) they helped a lot with the cooking" Hosea said with a surprisingly proud voice.

"Really? Image if that cowpoke poison' us" Micah spoke,Voice filled with venom for some reason.

"Can you stop being an asshole for a minute?" John replied sarcastically.

"It's the truth! They could have killed us all right now" Micah yelled,Putting this empty plate aside.

•You decided to stay quiet instead of begin in the middle of the fight,You honestly wanted to giggle at how fast he's eating,He don't want to admit that he actually enjoyed your food and he will probably be the first one to die because of the amount of soup he's devouring if you actually poisoned it.

•After few months,You become known as begin hardworking,And a talented gunslinger,But also with a weird charm.

•The one that end up having a great relationship is Jack,He thinks you're so cool,And you also allow him to do things he isn't allowed,Like using a gun(One time then he got knocked out against the tree,Abigail scolded you both) Or giving him lot of candy.

•Aside from Jack,Other members start respecting and trust you in hard missions and jobs,And making nice relationship,You love drinking with Lenny,Karen or sean and start doing stupid shit,You're happy they are getting along with you,Even Micah start having some sort of respect toward you,

•But of course it doesn't mean nobody will notice your weird behavior,For example whatever you go out for a hunt,Hosea sometimes tell you to bring someone with you to help,But you refuse saying that you you're better alone.

•The one who also eyeing you suspiciously is Arthur,Whatever you both go out to rob or kill,He thinks you're acting as a creep,Looking at chubby,Young and healthy men and women with a eyes of hunger,Sometimes even gulping,And telling him to go back first to the camp after killing trying to take the corpse away from this sight.

•Pearson also mentioned how you you're the one who pick and cut the meat alone,In the forest,Almost trying to hide something.

•One time while stabbing a man who tried to kill you while stealing,This blood filled your face and you licked it in such away...That makes Arthur feels some type of emotion.

•Not to mention how fucked up you look sometimes,The eyes and the bags under them,Your face wrinkles and how old you look despite begin freshly thirty,Something totally happened to you.

•So one time while the gang was happily eating from your cooking,Arthur decided to confort you in front of everybody,Mentioning every point and demand an explanation to your behavior,You panicked of course,Sean tried to defend you saying that he's overthinking,A heavy and suffocating tension fill the air.

"Are you accusing them of begin a molester??!" Karen spoke with shock in her voice

"Hey i think you're overthinking a little bit too much" Bill raised this eyebrows,Agreeing with Sean.

"To be honest with the points,It isn't impossible" Charles said while gazing at your face.

"i don't understand.."Jack said with a confused face,Abigail cover this ear,Worrisome.

"I...Well i-i" You sutter while thinking of believable excuse,But with the stares,Murmurs and arguments,Your mind goes blink,And with Dutch circling you,It seems like Arthur discussed this with Dutch first.

"Well if you won't say anything..." Dutch click this revolver and point it at the back of your head,A few gasps were heard,Micah was watching with interest.

"WAIT WAIT! I will say it just please don't hurt me!" Your eyes become hazy and your voice tremble.

"Then spit it out" Dutch growl,Growing impatient.

"I'M A CANNIBAL,I EAT HUMAN MEAT FOR SURVIVAL AND MY PARENTS FORCED ME TO EAT THEM" You screamed at the top of your lungs.

"WHAT THE HELL!" John jumped up from his seat as jumped from his seat.

"Wait doesn't that means that the she had been feeding us human meat the whole time!?!" Sadie covered her mouth.

"YA CRAZY MOTHERFUCKER" The smirk was wiped off from Micah face before he jumped at you and grabbed you by the neck.

"WAIT I DIDN'T FEED YOU ANY-"But before you could say anything,A punch was thrown in your face,You fall in the ground and Micah get on the top of you,Beating you up.

"MICAH MICAH WAIT!" Arthur and housea tried to get micah off you,Dutch send a kick to your body out of anger.

•There was a multiple different reaction,Karen ran away with sade and others to the bushes so they can throw up,Abigail covered jack eyes and picked him up away from the the violent fight,Molly and Grimshaw looked at you with pure disgust,The others were trying to broke the fight between Arthur,Hosea and micah with Dutch.

•You were knocked out,Charles finally picked up Micah and removed him from your body,Others were trying to calm down Dutch,After few hours and arguments,They end up tying you to a tree.

•The next day when you woke up,You were met with the nastiest stares you ever seen in your life,You probably thought they were going to throw rotten tomatoes in your face.

•You don't know what they are going to do with you,But hopefully they won't hurt you in any way....

I'm pretty tired,I will make part 2 in the future hopefully,Also you can make fanfics or headcanon inspired by it,Please tell me if there's a typo or a mistake:3 I'm a new writer so please be nice.

[no-name-blu]

GAMESHOW HOST WALLY FIC:

First Punishment

This was supposed to be a comic but then I didn't finish it.

Have it in written format instead :D

Trigger Warnings: Gore, Torture, Manipulation, Abuse, unreliable narrator

Context: This is way back in the show's early days, Wally trusts home and follows his orders without a question. Until this day when he starts thinking about it.

"What a shame! What a thrill! I hope everyone at home enjoyed watching this man perish!" Wally smiles at the camera, while the live audience cheers at his words, he gestures his hand to tone down their voice, and they obey. "Well that's it for our show tonight. My name is Wally, and I'm here to remind you that for every second you sleep at night, you're feeding the spider that lives inside of your ears. Goodni-"

He stopped his closure when he felt a tug on the hems of his pants. With the sound of his neck cracking he spins his head backwards and looks down. A man, who has crawled towards him with only his arms, his bottom half has been torn apart. This bleeding man looks up at Wally with what's left of his eyes, or face. Safe to say he did not look good.

"I'm so sorry... Please let me live." Surprisingly, with his throat accidentally stepped on earlier, this man can speak.

"Wow! And you're also still alive!"

I was about to say that Wally.

"But you're too slow"

"What?" The bleeding, faceless man talks again.

"Oh right, you're still here" Wally looks back at him. "But why would I let you live? You lost!"

"I know that... But, I need to go home. I still have that I love." There's tears coming out, but it only burns on his faceless face. "I did horrible things. But, it's all for them. A father makes sacrifices. I don't deserve this, everything I did is for them, I NEED TO GO HOME"

"...H-Hey... I've seen you on my daughter's-"

With every strength he has left, he raises his voice but Wally didn't say anything, he retracts his head back to normal.

STOMP

With brute force, Wally steps on him as his head explodes. There are chunks that splattered across the floor while his shoes are now stained red.

"Eugh, that's gross" Wally looks down at the mess he made. He calls two of the audience member to dispose the body. While a couple others clean up the studio. It's just another night at work, and Wally can finally wind down after doing a great job.

He walks through the hallways. The wallpaper is patterned with eye designs. Every step he takes feels like the pupils are watching him passing by, Wally is always under his presence at all times.

The moment he enters his dressing room, he can hear the sounds of knocks in the walls.

"Thank you Home. I think I did well today too."

He sits down in front of his mirror, an apple on the table caught his attention. "For me? Thank you Home," Wally takes a bite into the meaty apple. Usually he'd happily enjoy this well-deserved meal but something makes Wally feel confused.

A long concerned creak came out from Home. "Oh, it's nothing. I was just thinking," Wally says, but now there's an insistent knocking.

"Okay, okay. I'll tell you."

He didn't say anything for the first couple of seconds.

"Hey, don't rush me! I'm thinking!"

And then he goes back to "thinking". Which is more on, hesitating.

"Fine... I was just thinking about our contestant earlier."

Now the knocking turned curious.

"He was just supporting his family. Even though harvesting bodies is also not good. I do think he deserves bad things. It's just, all of this is just sad."

Home replies with sounds of agreement, although they are also a bit dismissive to his feelings.

"Am I doing the same thing?"

Wally looks around the dressing room, but Home did not say anything. He looks back at his mirror.

"I found these people just for you. I supported you with these sacrifices. So, if we say that people like that contestant deserved to die, what about me?"

There are creaks trying to reassure him.

"But that doesn't make any sense"

Now there's an impatient creek.

"But, what if we were wrong.."

One. Aggressive. Knock.

"Maybe we could've find a different way to..."

Wally gets lost in his sentence when he notices his reflection turned dark. He leans to take a closer peak at it until something reaches out of the mirror.

He pulled himself away from the mirror, stumbling backwards from his chair and landed on the floor. Wally can't see anything at all, he reaches up to his face where he can feel a persistent piercing pain coming from his face.

"Wh-What did you do?!" He gasps for air frantically when all he sees is nothing. But Wally has no reason to panic, he can't die.

"But it hurts" his voice shakes as he weeps. He reaches out an arm to find his eyes until he feels something grab his shirt and suspends him above the ground.

"Home?"

Wally can feel a huge force at him until his back slams against the wall with a loud thud. The impact shook his whole body, but it also knocked his head so badly that it was nauseating.

I didn't want to hurt you Wally.

But I don't like my temper being tested.

I can do so much torture upon you, but I won't.

You have to understand, we are different from those contestants, the people above.

You're never going to be like them.

The voice makes Wally tremble in fear, Home wasn't like this before. Wally must have pushed it too far, he's lucky Home is being merciful right now.

"I'm sorry."

Home lowers him back to the ground, but Wally didn't have the strength to stand up, he fell to his knees.

"I will stop thinking about this then."

He mutters. Then he felt something bump against his knee, Wally reaches down to grab them.

"Oh, my eyes. Thank you Home"

As long as he does his work, he will be good friends with Home. Maybe Wally is different from that contestant, it's just a dead man in the end. Nothing more.