#i'm gonna go do that right now actually lol

[astonmartinii]

day seven: (christmas) star power | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem primary school!teacher

oh how one lie can spiral

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by yourbff, yourbrother and 204 others

yourusername: so ummmmmmm i pulled the short straw and am in charge of the school's nativity ??? AND THEN made a comment about my 'boyfriend' charles leclerc and now the whole school and WHOLE village think he is coming to the show ...

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yourbff: are you fucking dumb ???

yourusername: YES

yourbff: you told the headmaster that your boyfriend is CHARLES LECLERC ????

yourusername: i said it in JEST

yourusername: like ooohhhh my boyf charles

yourusername: and i guess that my framed picture of him on my desk definitely didn't help ...

yourbff: you have a framed picture of him on your desk...

yourusername: it was a christmas present from my cousin 😭

yourbff: oh but why would you have it on your desk - you're a primary school teacher all those kids do is ask questions

yourusername: why are you VICTIM BLAMING SO MUCH

yourbff: because you're DUMB

yourbrother: oh they're gonna stone you when they figure out it's not true

yourusername: they should know it's not true ITS CHARLES LECLERC

yourbrother: so you're saying you couldn't just go to monaco right now and pull him? disappointing

yourusername: 1. i'm broke as fuck 2. i am me and he is he

yourbrother: ugh such a skill issue

yourbff: bro it's hit f1twt

yourusername: WHAT

yourusername: who the fuck is on f1twt from our village

yourbff: maybe it was me...

yourusername: REALLY?

yourbff: no you actual dumbass

yourusername: no but for real these people are insane detectives they're going to figure out it's me and i'm going to be CANCELLED

yourbff: lol

yourusername: fuck you.

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, pierregasly and 1,034,289 others

tagged: arthurleclerc & lorenzotl

charles_leclerc: just a quiet christmas for the leclercs this year

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user4: because we're going to somerset right?

user5: does he know he's meant to be in somerset?

user6: does he know what a nativity is?

user7: girl he may be an f1 driver who didn't finish school but he's not THAT dumb

landonorris: why am i seeing that you're coming to my ends for christmas?

charles_leclerc: am i??? why would i want to spend even more time with you?

landonorris: first of all - rude. second of all i have literally seen posters about you coming to the village?

charles_leclerc: what is a village?

landonorris: okay mr monte carlo some of use aren't from a tax haven

charles_leclerc: also when you're this beautiful, people tend to paste your face everywhere, you can't relate

landonorris: even RUDER

landonorris: my young cousin goes to the school and is completely convinced that you're coming to the show and dating his teacher

charles_leclerc: WHAT

yourusername: oh my jesus christ

user8: and if that one girl on f1twt made it all up...

user9: would be the only good thing to come out of that place

pierregasly: what is this i'm hearing of you having a girlfriend? charles i am HURT

charles_leclerc: where are you all hearing all of this stuff?

pierregasly: twitter!

charles_leclerc: oh jesus christ

pierregasly: you've got yourself in a right mess

charles_leclerc: ME?

charles_leclerc: this is clearly the work of a downright lunatic or a lonely cat woman with FAR too much time on her hands

yourusername: oh he gagged me there

yourbff: heyyy you have a dog not a cat!

charles_leclerc: who are you people?

yourusername: NO ONE

user10: what on earth is going on

user11: and WHO is @yourusername

yourusername: NO ONE

landonorris

liked by pierregasly, oscarpiastri and 1,034,277 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

landonorris: look who came to see me :)

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user13: holy....

user14: oh charles at the nativity is still so on

user15: my hopes are simply too high now good lord

user16: lowkey hoping this is all one big lie from f1twt that has managed to convince ACTUAL drivers to go to a random village

oscarpiastri: how did he get an invite to the norris house before i did ?

oscarpiastri: do my 'heart eyes' mean nothing to you?

landonorris: no babe i can explain it's for the bit

charles_leclerc: babe?

oscarpiastri: stay out of this old man

charles_leclerc: that's no way to talk to your father

oscarpiastri: my father wouldn't do such things for 'the bit" WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN

landonorris: it's a joke osc

oscarpiastri: so i'm a joke to you? i see how it is

landonorris: NO THE TWITTER JOKE

landonorris: has he just put his phone on do not disturb?

charles_leclerc: he said he's going to bed (it is actually quite late in australia dude)

landonorris: how do you know that?

charles_leclerc: he replied to my text :)

landonorris: WHAT

charles_leclerc: family comes before whatever pathetic crush he has

user17: how have we gotten to this point?

user18: just smile and wave boys this is mental illness on show

charles_leclerc: you're right, having a crush on lando is mental illness

landonorris: then it's time to get your son sectioned!

alexalbon: well this has all gotten a bit serious now - can we get back to the actual reason charles is at your house?

yourusername: @yourbff oh brother this is getting TOO REAL

yourbff: to put it quite kindly you are royally FUCKED

yourusername: i might have to move to another country, change my name and get bangs :(

yourbff: NOT BANGS

landonorris: who are you people and why are you always camping out in our comment sections

yourusername: WE'RE NO ONe

landonorris: WAIT I HAVE MUTUALS WITH YOU?

landonorris: NOOOOOOOOO

landonorris: she blocked me?

yourbff

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 304 others

tagged: yourusername

yourbff: take a good look at her folks because i have reason to believe that if a certain someone turns up at the show she will KILL HERSELF. love you queen, rest in divadom

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yourusername: this sounds very dramatic

yourusername: but you are correct

yourusername: my life will come to a short and all round inconsequential end tonight

yourbff: it is dramatic

yourbff: but i understand queen

yourbff: your celebrity crush who you have had a parasocial relationship with for years is coming with the express purpose of embarrasing you because he believes you are a sad, sad woman who has created an elaborate lie that you're in a relationship

yourusername: well yeah that sums it up pretty well - you think you could put that on my head stone?

yourbff: i don't think we can afford that

landonorris: i can pay!

yourusername: AHHHHHHH

yourbff: AHHHHHH

landonorris: oh forgot to say but found you! we have a lot of mutual friends lol

landonorris: actually i think my mum and your mum are in the same book club!

yourusername: you're aware this is creepy?

landonorris: you're aware that pretending to be my friend's girlfriend is creepy

yourusername: THERE WAS A GROSS MISUNDERSTANDING OVER MY DESK DECOR

landonorris: sureeeeeee

yourusername: also charles isn't even the only man i have framed on my desk, i have my dog, justin from wizards of waverely place, jason kelce and marc marquez, he's just the one the old lady picked out

yourbrother: now we have actual f1 drivers in the comments, how can we get free tickets from them?

yourusername: so my impending suicide means nothing?

yourbrother: not really. i might take your car if you die

charles_leclerc: so this was all one big scheme to get tickets? there's no show ???

yourbrother: that's what you're focusing on? not that she has a whole town under the impression that you're dating some irrelevant primary school teacher?

yourusername: rude?

charles_leclerc: a primary school teacher? that's cute

yourusername: wait did you think i was just doing the nativity for the love of the game?

yourbrother: who gives a fuck he called you CUTE

yourusername: oh!

yourbrother: she passed out :/

charles_leclerc: i didn't know i had that kind of effect on people

landonorris: oh fuck off of course you do

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 1,539,056 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: met my long lost girlfriend (and most importantly her dog)

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user20: omg i do not know how to feel

user21: WHO WAS GOING TO TELL ME SHE'S THAT BEAUTIFUL

user22: i 100% thought the gal was gonna at least be in her 40s

landonorris: i guess she puts on a pretty good nativity

charles_leclerc: which kid is your cousin?

landonorris: the lobster!

pierregasly: LOBSTER?

charles_leclerc: @yourusername why was there a lobster?

yourusername: ummmm there's a lot of kids in the class and i was running out of roles? all animals are gods creations?

charles_leclerc: seems sacrilegious but it was cute <3

charles_leclerc: just like you

pierregasly: that was awful

yourusername: SHUT UP

yourusername: thank you charles :)

charles_leclerc: no worries princess x

user23: i am losing my mind ?????

user24: bro got tricked into going to SOMERSET and has actually fallen for her

user25: i mean ... look at her

yourusername: i do also have a cracking personality if i do say so myself

yourbff: oh girl you needed it after i held your hair back three times in the lead up to meeting charles

yourusername: and i will repay you somehow ???

yourbff: well.... now you've charmed a certain someone can we inquire about his pool of friends

landonorris: hi!

charles_leclerc: no not that one he's not cute enough

landonorris: you're really mean

charles_leclerc: @yourbff may i introduce my good buddy joris

landonorris: JORIS ???

charles_leclerc: well i regularly want to throttle you so i think it would be better to go on double dates with someone i actually like ?

user26: charles leclerc is the origin of the sassy man apocalypse

user27: i think the paddock was the start of it all

yourusername: i can't believe this actually happened :')

charles_leclerc: and i can't wait to see where it goes

yourusername: see you for new years pretty boy

charles_leclerc: i think i already know who my new years kiss might be

yourusername: i'm already waiting :3

fin.

note: i hope you all had a fun christmas! i had a great day with my family and am workin hard to get the rest of this series out!

[madam8]

Should have just made this its own thing and put in a link but fuck it I'm committed now. Hope whoever reads this enjoys. ❤

Also just wanna add I didn't make the header, I downloaded it from another story and don't remember which one. Please tell me in the comments if that's a problem and I'll remove it.

I'm just imagining something similar happening with the Obey Me boys.

Like, imagine.

You're minding your damn business playing the game, maybe say something affectionate towards your fave during the home surprise guest, and you're feeling tired. It is late AF, you always stayed up late talking to your favorite man, but somehow you feel much heavier than usual. So you say your "goodnight" and "I love you" to him (was that a grin you just saw? Was he blushing?) and you shut off the game and go to bed to start dreaming (weird though, you swear you heard his voice just before passing out).

Low and behold, your in your room when you wake. Well, not YOUR room back at home. But you find you're on your room in The House Of Lamentation. Which isn't even real.

HOW THE FUCK?!

You leave that room to wander around and find out what the flying fuck is going on, when you hear one of the brothers call to everyone else that you were awake.

Just like that, they all (save for a few specifics) crowded around you asking how were you feeling? Were you alright? Were you dizzy? Were you nauseous? Were you hungry?

When suddenly Lucifer speaks up telling them all to calm down and not overwhelm you (arms crossed cause of course lol)

They all reluctantly do as told, prioritizing your comfort over anything else at the moment.

You find out that someone seems to have brought you here but no one is fessing up or trying to help you leave. Why would they? They all love you and are fully aware that you adore them as well.

Skip ahead, you've gotten use to living with them and aren't AS against it as you should be. If anything, you prefer your life with them.

Going down the the kitchen for a drink, you overhear your favorite man, the man you love more than ever now after actually getting to spend time with him (I'm imagining Lucifer), telling some of the others to not get too close or cocky cause you. Are. HIS. and his alone. They can humor you, should you decide you wanna spend time with them, but your heart is off limits.

You're not only questioning this in your mind as you listen but you're also a little annoyed with him. Like, you LOVE love him but do you really not get a say?

Well, two can play at this game.

You decided you'll still give him attention and affection as always (it'd be suspicious and down right criminal if you don't), BUT now you're gonna get a little more close and personal to the others too. Specially the ones he seems to see as threats to "your relationship" with him. Just to fuck with him a bit and hopefully teach him not to make such statements without your thoughts on the matter (not that you'd be complaining)

And with that, you quietly stroll back up to your room like you never heard a thing to start planning your strategy to screw with your man who is claiming you before even confessing.

Oh yes, you were were gonna have quite a lot of fun with this. For awhile at least. 😉

Seen the request, so I shall deliver. Could you pls write a drabble or hcs of a yandere sunday with an isekaied reader?

Good timing because I'm actually planning a non yan isekai fic for him, I wonder if you saw that post. Here it is in case you haven't.

Sincerest apologies if this isn't the best, this fic is 100% emotionally charged by my obsession with him and frankly with a little bit of a high for passing a tricky exam. This is a treat for myself.

EDIT: Please check out this wonderful comic that @danijaci made me based off this fic!! 😭🫶

Picking up the cup from the fine oak table, you gazed towards the eerie galaxy before you, hundreds upon thousands of stars giving you a constant reminder of just how far from home you truly were. Taking a sip from the little porcelain cup you could not help but to hum in delight, the soft notes of the tea soothing your nerves ever so lightly as you pretended to ignore the heavy gaze which lingered at the back of your head.

Even from this distance, it was easy to tell that Sunday was eager to approach you. Still, he kept his distance and made a silent offering in the form of the very tea you drank at the moment.

Anything is better than Himeko's coffee but you were never going privy her to that.

In a not so distant past, all of this was nothing but fiction. The Express, the story, the characters - it was all nothing more but fiction, something to pass the time as your days went on and on, the same monotony repeating each and every day.

It was hard to not think about your friends and family, what sane person would not? Lord knows how they must be feeling right now, worried sick out of their minds with indescribable sorrow. In their eyes you had merely vanished, not a single trace to be found. For all they knew you could have been left for dead in a ditch somewhere, beaten, bloodied and broken, never to see the light again or if they were even more inclined to be morbid, you had succumbed to a fate worse than death. Death at the very least grants you finality, that all is over regardless of what happened moments prior.

But that was simply not the case for you.

Here you were, lounging about in a comfortable chair as you pondered on your old life while enjoying tiny little luxuries, far away where none of your loved ones could reach you. However, life was funny sometimes because it had some fun games in store.

Sunday was very kind upon arrival. He made sure to always be there for you, always checking up on you, always there to keep you company. You were already smitten with him but now to actually witness him in the flesh was just... Indescribable. You got along like a house on fire, so much so that the crew liked to tease that you ought to just get a room. Sunday, ever the gentleman, would just brush their words aside and assure you to not take their playful little jabs to heart.

You wouldn't say anything, resorting to merely giving him a smile but not because of what he said but rather of what he did not - never once did he actually shut down those perverse accusations. Never, not even once did he deny them.

He became an emotional crutch, someone to whom you would come running to when things got tough and he would always welcome you with open arms. Sunday would hold you tenderly, his serene voice dripping with honey along with a tender drop of ecstasy, for his excitement with holding you would just show itself sometimes. His grip would be too tight at certain moments, never quite ready to let you leave. His hugs were warm and comforting, he always smelled so good too. He smelled like kindness and sweet wildflowers, always lulling you back to him no matter the time. In dark corners and perhaps even under the watchful eyes of the crew, Sunday would wrap his scarf around your head, securing the soft fabric in order to provide you with a sense of comfort.

It was humiliating just how much you would try to inhale his scent as much as possible. You wanted it etched deep inside your memory, you wished for it to linger on your very soul and for it to follow you everywhere you went, sticking to your being like tar. The fabric of the scarf would muffle your ears a little but someone was always chatting in the background. Be it March bickering with Dan Heng, Mr Yang scolding someone for doing something they were not supposed to, or just Conductor Pom Pom trying to give a speech, all of it was irrelevant.

You were ready to kill whoever would try to pry you away from sweet Sunday. That thought came often which had left you worried - just what kind of person had you become? Regardless, you kept your mouth shut and had no plans of sharing such violent sentiments with anyone, particularly not to the one you held so dear.

When it was time to part for the evening you would bid the crew farewell and wished them a good night. You always made sure to take a few extra seconds with Sunday, just to ease your aching soul. He would tell you to sleep well and would see you in the morning, ready to take on any endeavor that crossed your paths.

As everyone parted ways, Sunday would wander off somewhere dark and distant, somewhere no one could see nor hear him. He would fall to his knees and clutch his chest in agony, fat tears streaming down his face as he did everything he possibly could to steady his raging heart. In a rush he would reach for the scarf which clung around his neck, his grip tighter than iron as he would bring it close to his nose. Taking a large, deep breath, Sunday was greeted by your familiar scent which would promptly calm his poor heart.

He sometimes wondered if his heart would start bleeding from the pain due to the sheer intensity of his emotions.

This was wrong, everything about this was not right and it hurt. Sunday was obviously ill but he had no clue on how to fight this... This emotion, this white hot feeling of need whenever you stood by his side. He started to choke on the air around him and fell into an abrupt coughing fit but even then, he could bring himself to remove the scarf from the lower part of his face.

Sunday wept and sobbed, filthy snot coming out from his nose but he could not handle that now. He needed you, Oh Heavenly Aeons, how he needed you. However was he going to tell you how he felt? How, oh how was he going to express the sheer magnitude of his true thoughts? He would scare you off, he was sure of it.

Even with this pain, even with these clipped wings and bleeding heart, Sunday had never felt so alive, so harrowingly present in the moment whenever he was with you.

Perhaps, he was doing himself a kindness by just letting you be. Drink your tea, be at peace.

He can always just make you another cup if you so desired.

Without knowing, you both haunted each other in the most agonizing way known to mankind and neither was strong enough to face the reality of the situation.

[sweetflanfiction]

Assymetrical Symphony - Part 12

Universe: Arcane (LOL)

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about LOL is from google and all I know about Arcane is taken from the show, so inacuracies will be plenty. I have a sort of idea on how to I'm gonna go with magic and runes, so bear with me. The reader will be written as GN (going by they/them) to get everyone involved, but if you see any discrepancies let me know.

A.N: Still on vacations!

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • Part 10

• ··········· • ············ •

In a very proficient succession of moves, Viktor had grabbed his keys from his bag, locked the front door—something he wasn’t supposed to do because of the council’s shenanigans, but Viktor hardly ever did what he was told—and had opened the door, holding it open for you.

Shaking your head at his antics, you made your way to the room and short of going inside. A butterfly had flapped its wings somewhere down the space and time lines, and what was once a spacious room was now nothing more than a broom closet.

“I know it is not ideal, but…it’s this or the hexcore room.” You heard behind you and cleared your throat.

“This is… um… fine…” You nodded and walked to the back of the room, which was exactly a small step forward, and turned back to the door.

Viktor walked behind you and closed the door, leaving both of you in darkness. He shuffled to get himself in a comfortable standing position, his cane leaning on the shelf behind you.

You knew if you could see anything but the soft glow of the room outside from under the door, you’d be face to face with his chin, having to still tilt your head up to look at him whenever you were in close quarters. You shook your head and cleared your throat to get your mind back on track. He took half a step back, completely oblivious of your thoughts, and you did the same, the shelves behind you carving a dent into your back. 

“Alright. The baseline for your starlight rune is about fifteen minutes.”

“Starlight rune?”

“I told you I wasn’t good with names…Do the rune with the new variant.”

The glove came off with a practiced tug, and the small room was slightly illuminated by the blue glow. You saw Viktor's hand immediately shoot up to touch it again, his never-ending curiosity getting the best of him. Your hand twitched in anticipation of the contact, and he stopped short of actually touching it.

“Sorry, it’s not you…it’s…” You started but couldn’t finish when you realized that it was in fact because of him.

“Don’t worry. It’s my fault…Learn not to touch anything before checking it’s safe... Truly, it’s the worst... I have a few scars to show for it.” He used the glow of your hand to touch a few small scars on his palm.

SVRCINA - Astronomical

You laughed quietly, tracing the rune for the tiny lights in the air, adding the small symbol on the top right of it. A flick of the wrist and up they went. Viktor tapped his fingers on his thigh, counting the time, his neck stretched up to look at the ceiling.

The endlessness of darkness is hovering. The sound of the silence is deafening. Ten billion decibels shattering

The opportunity presented itself to look at him in detail. On the forefront of your mind was the need to find any difference from your Viktor. On the back of it, the hope that there was none. 

The shimmering lights gave his already pale skin an even white tinge, but you could see the small freckles and skin marks he had running behind the collar of his shirt. His jaw was still sharp and angled, and his cheeks high; you peeked at the beauty mark under his eyes, and he still chewed on the inside of his mouth when he was thinking hard. Your eyes shifted down to take notice of his breathing. Closing your eyes, you listened to it. Clean, no wheezing, no strain. 

I'm drawn to the unknown where shadows hide. A slave to the powers that magnetize There's something inside of me I can't fight.

The smell of mint and cinnamon filled your nostrils. You had forgotten the height difference, the gentle way his breathing would make his chest rise and fall on his better days. You’d forgotten the time before he became consumed with legacy. You’d forgotten he was once flesh and blood and warmth.

You heard the shift in breathing before you heard the quiet laugh and looked up at him. True to his word, he had a hand outstretched, touching the tiny specks of light floating above you.

Weightlessness forsaking me. This pull is astronomical.

“Fascinating.” He murmured, his long fingers swirling around the shimmer. “It’s cold, but…not unpleasant.”

Viktor’s smile never faltered, a pleasant sound coming from his throat. The floating orbs just floated around the tips of his fingers, like smoke around a tree branch.

He moved his fingers to grab one of the lights, and your breath got caught in your throat. You really should stop him, but the gentleness of his long fingers as he swirled them around the smoke, nudging the smaller nodes away to grab a bigger one, left you hypnotized and mute.

Viktor’s fist closed around a glowing marble, and it burst like a soap bubble, breaking into tiny wisps of glitter and regrouping again after they passed his fist.

Can anybody... Anybody... Can anybody stop me?

You looked at his face; the usually warm golden eyes have taken a paler palette with the white cold light reflecting on them. His lips were curled up in a soft, wondrous smile that reminded you of a child; his long neck was stretched upwards, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed his amusement. It was new... this was new...

It hit you like a ton of bricks that even though you’d seen this man in almost any state of mind, this childish wonder was something you never noticed. You were far more preoccupied with keeping him alive than finding something that gave him this type of feeling. Even if in the end, whatever feelings he had were gone.

Ooh, this pull is astronomical.

“You’re staring again…” He snickered, and you nodded.

“You remind me of someone…” 

“Hopefully a good someone…”He looked down and smirked at you.

“Heh…He had his moments... You cleared your throat. "Shall we test the other theory perhaps?”

Viktor nodded and had once again craned his neck upwards. You did the rune and added the coda symbol on the same corner as the infinity symbol and flicked your wrist up.

The rune disappeared, but the stars stayed. You both locked eyes with each other and then looked at your hand, as if it was to blame for the lackluster results.

“Maybe it’s the symbol? Or the intention?”

“Perhaps…what have you been setting as the intention for this one?”

“Just…light up. The first time it appeared, I was in a dark room, so light seemed the best option.”

“Maybe think…dark…or…off.”

Shaking your shoulder to release some tension, you drew the rune, drew the coda, and set it free with a very defined 'turn the light off' intention.

“Rune… intention… push forward…” Viktor repeated, his eyes darting around the darkened room. “Rune…intention…push forward…”

“I could try other symbols…”

He nodded, and you started to add symbols to the rune. An exclamation point, a dot, two dots, an X, the actual word STOP. But nothing seemed to be the floating little light from floating.

“You push it forward…” He raised a hand and placed it next to yours, palm up. The glow of your hand casting a light on the side of his hand

He drew the rune with his index and middle fingers and flicked the wrist up. By the third time he did it, you mirrored his movements, you drew the rune and the suffix you had initially given it, and flicked it up. Nothing.

The small blue brush strokes grew in brightness as you finished the drawing. The rune itself was a dainty thing, swirly with a loop and a dash. It was your favorite rune to draw, you thought at that moment.

“Rune…intention…push it forward.” You both whispered in sync as your hands danced in well-choreographed movements.

“Of course…” You heard Viktor exclaim and looked up at him, but his eyes were still on your hands.

He turned his hand so that it was hovering on top of yours without touching, his long fingers by your wrist, yours under his own joint. He drew the rune, like he was stroking your wrist. A shiver ran down your arm, but you mimicked him like before and drew your own rune. When you flicked your hand up, your fingers touched his wrist with a soft thud, but his hand did the opposite movement; instead of moving downwards—since he was mirroring your movements—he pulled back, his hand arching back.

“It makes sense…you speak the rune…” He made the motion again, you repeated. “You set the intent and…”

You both snapped your hands backwards. The rune shimmered, and the floating lights shot towards your hand, leaving the room in darkness in a blink of an eye, the only sound the slight heavy breathing from the sudden shift in brightness.

"You pull it back." Viktor whispered. 

"That's..." You thought about saying smart, but this was Viktor, one of the most intelligent people you've met.

"Unlike words, once you speak the runes, you can take them back, and everything goes back to normal."

"Words can be taken back." You said, moving your hand up and feeling his wrist still hovering there. 

You let your fingers touch his wrist, gently flattening them against his skin, your thumb softly grasping his forearm. You felt his own hand rest on top of yours. You could see the blue light engulfing his hand.

"They hurt all the same." He softly whispered.

"Pains and aches, eh?" You heard him chuckle. "The mending rune... I can sustain it now. Imagine being able to keep something from breaking."

"You have to be careful. Magic is not free. There will be a toll to pay.” His voice shifted and something mechanical. 

“I’m actually doing this…I’m learning... and adapting... and”

“Evolving…” A mechanical low voice came from where he was, but you didn’t feel it like last time.

“What?” Your eyes snapped up to where his should be.

“What?” He looked at you confused, and you shook your head, dismissing it.

A second of silence until you heard a quiet laugh come from him.

“This is... real magic. It’s just like we thought. Exactly like we thought. The books were right. The hextech is an almost exact copy of what actual magic is.” 

“Viktor…breathe…”

“I’m breathing…I’m breathing..." He moved his hand away, pushing a hand through his hair. "We are finding ways to control wild runes.”

“Don’t look wild to me. That one actually looked like it was meticulously drawn.”

“They are wild because they are natural, not because they are unpredictable.” He grabbed the door handle with one hand, his cane with the other, and pushed the door open. “I need to write this down.”

He was halfway out the door when he stopped abruptly, and you managed to stop just in time by placing your hands on his back, almost throwing him off balance and to the floor. A hand on his elbow balanced him out.

“Good gods, Vik… What the..." You started but then looked at what—or who—was staring at.

“You two kids wanna to tell me why you were inside a dark closet?” Jayce inquired, his lips curling up on one side, his eyebrow going up on the same side.

Viktor straightened up quickly, and you did the same, more flustered about the almost tumble than Jayce’s questions. 

“Nothing.” Viktor quickly answered

“Magic.” You said at the same time, with the taller man’s face snapping to yours, mouth agape at your nonchalant tone.

“What?” You shrugged as you walked past him to the table.

“What kind of magic?” Jayce’s eyebrows wiggled suggestively. 

“Jayce!” Viktor, whose gaze had been following you around the room, snapped to Jayce.

“The actual magical kind.” You pulled the glove back on your hand. “The rune one.”

“Oh…eh…that’s fun too, I guess.” The broader man shrugged.

“How’s Mel?” You retorted.

“Magical…” He sighed and then winked at you.

You looked at him, face blank, and shook your head; he gave a goofy lovesick smile, and you groaned dramatically to emphasize you were joking.

“She does have some news for us about the council…shenanigans…” Jayce straightened up and leaned on the table.

“No…no…nonono.” Viktor shook his head and strode towards both of you, a small scowl of confusion on his face. “We are not just going to breeze by this… What is happening…? When did this happen?”

Jayce looked between Viktor, you, and then pointed to himself.

“Kid who jumped places because a mage decided to save his life…” He pointed at you. “Actual Mage.”

You were happy that he didn’t add the rest of his sentence about you.

“Wait…they know about the…happening?” Viktor looked at Jayce with wide eyes.

“They do.” Jayce nodded, and Viktor turned his eyes to you.

“And he knows about the runes?”

“He does.”

Viktor looked at the ceiling of the lab, taking a deep breath, while these pieces of information all fit in his head. When he was satisfied, he looked back down to you and Jayce, nodding. 

“All right… all right…” He walked over to where Jayce was leaning on the table and you were seated on a stool. “What did Mel say?”

“They have a date for the council meeting.”

• ············ • ············ •

@marshy-moo @victormydarling @blueesmiski @th3stup1dcat @22carolina08 @httpstes @that-one-shitty-blog @disa-pointment @sseleniaa @moons-lighttrail @aysluxe @fae-doodle @kitewa @local-mr-frog @bakusquadobsessed @cherry-cola-100 @optimistic-but-very-realistic @seeksrsnn @thecordelialetters @notsaelty @lansy-4 @ayupfrogg @sammypotato @wnbrw @lucycarlisleswife @noxturnalmoth @ren-ren23 @furblrwurblr @kapitankarate @mynicknameisgasoline @octo-octopie @birbwithhat

[gazsluckyhat]

Not Nice to Play With Your Food

I'm but a vessel for smut to come out of. Lol. I wanted to keep some things the same while including new things as well. And if you don't think Kyle and Johnny team up to tease and torture little playthings you'd be so wrong.

This was so stupid. You know it is. You were supposed to be at The Bronze with your friends but Giles had requested you check out the cemetery. Something about teenagers seeing something. Whatever. Though maybe you being missing will finally give Alex the strength to finally ask Farah out.

"Stupid slayer duties." You had really wanted to be dancing with Farah right now. To forget the upcoming history test you were most definitely gonna fail. Worst of all you had already gotten ready. Hair all tied up with some dark make-up to match.

"Anything?" Giles smooth British voice coming through the earphone. You rolled your eyes, the chill was making you get goosebumps.

"No Giles. Nothing. Not a sign of shit." You groan like a child. "I'm supposed to be dancing with my friends not out stalking the dead."

"Hmm. Maybe the kids were wrong?" You scoffed. A child. That's eaxctly what you were. Freshly eighteen. You were graduating in about half a year. And here you were whining about hanging with your friends.

"I'll keep looking. Never know." You could almost hear Giles giggling.

"That's the spirit. I'll stay on the line." You nod. Knowing he can't see you. You'd been doing this since you were fifteen. You'd think the vampires would get the hint at this point. But no, you spent most nights roaming the streets and going full on Mortal Kombat. Your skin stayed covered in bruises and scratches. The cemetery was your best friend. You had most of the plots memorized at this point. You'd already picked your own plot out. By the fence with flower bushes everywhere. You just wanted something quiet. You had already made four rounds, the place was dead. Pun intended. Shoving the steak into the bag you'd brought you went to tell Giles you were heading home when you saw it. Leaning up agaisnt a stone, tall and shrouded in the dark. For fucks sake. You were tired. Extremely tired.

"I'm not in the mood tonight. Can you just come out so I can stab you and go home to sleep?" The thing moved. Way to fast. It was feet away but still covered in a dark cover. "Gonna make me work for it huh? Fine then." Jacket and bag dropped down you made your way to it. You were so close when you felt the air change. Something or someone had snuck behind you. You could feel their breath on your neck, sharp nails dragging up your side. Before your eyes the one you were after made his appearance. Dark eyes gave way to dark skin, he was pretty. Oh so pretty. The stake in your hand slipped a little. The one agaisnt your back chuckled. Vampires.

"Oi, lookie here. We caught us a slayer." Voice like honey the one in front of you smiled. He wasn't vamped out, his features all soft like. You tilted your head slightly and caught sight of blue eyes and a , mohawk? The actual fuck?

"A mohawk? What are you? A skater boi?" The one behind you laughed, his body pressing closer into you. They were cold, as usual. But smelled oh so pretty. The one in front of you boxed you in, his chest pressed right up agaisnt you. You had to tilt your head back and into the other just to make eye contact. You were lying if it didn't make your thigh clench. Wouldn't be the first vampire you'd been with.

"Bonnie little thing isn't she mate?" Scottish lilt tickling your brain. "Too bad we don't drink fresh, I bet you'd taste so sweet." He ducked down to your ear. "Though there are other things I can taste."

"Boys!" Loud and adorative, a voice boomed behind the darker one. "Quit playing with her. We have places to be." They both licked a stripe up your neck, their tongues meeting at your jaw.

"Mmm. Like candy." With a pinch to your ass the Scottish one crept around front.

"We'll be seeing you dove." Too quickly they joined the two new figures lurking in the dark. You could see the cherry of the lit cigar from here, the one beside him was tall. Clothed in a dark hoodie and mask. With a tilt of his head, the leader, they  were gone. Leaving you flustered and extremely turned on.

[keeps-ache]

'you're too technical' no i'm not!! you're using the wrong phrase and the wrong words and equivalating two things that are nearly complete opposites and/or irrelevant to each other !!

[loveisallyouneed1125]

I can't say it enough. I AM OBESESSD WITH THIS STORY, LITERALLY OBESESSED WITH IT!!!!!!!!!

Sensing his awful vibes towards her and the constant suspicion he thinks of her with, she decides she likes sitting outside his room at the early hours of the morning and screaming for him to open up.

Lol Alpine exist now only to piss Bucky off

But the second he makes a turn on the street corner, the same black van pulls right up to him, not leavning even two feet of space between it and him.

Bucky I'm sure won't admit it, but at this very moment he was scared, he was shaking in his boots 😆

"Get in loser, we’re going out,” you call from the driver’s seat.

He growls, letting the handle go. “What the actual fuck is wrong with you?”

I can't stop laughing. I had to pause and re-read so many times cause I couldn't stop laughing. Picturing Bucky so pissed off

Bucky immediately grabs at the handle, but the locks immediately click into place and you step on the pedal and send the van flying down the road before he has a chance to throw himself out.

It was at this moment that Bucky knew he had fucked up 🤣 he's going to have so many trust issues by the end of this series

“This is Bucky, by the way,” you introduce before beckoning to the man who had refused to move all this while.

“Come on, babygirl.”

Bucky does not look wowed with the theatrics as he stands there, arms folded tight across his magnificent chest.

Jason looks at you. “Is babygirl coming?”

Bucky inhales sharply while you stifle a laugh. “Do not call me that.”

^how y/n looked at the camera when Jason called Bucky babygirl. She knows it's going viral as soon as it's posted.

“You have a crush on me,” you sing, “why else are you going around asking your friends about me? Do you want them to put in a good word? You gonna ask them to deliver your handwritten note to me?”

“Fuck right off, and then fuck off some more,” he barks, grabbing a beer from the front of the line.

Y/n is making sure Bucky has not even a second of rest and I'm here for it

unsolved (vi)

Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)

Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky, obnoxious reader, mentions of hauntings and the paranormal.

A/N: i need to start editing beforehand this series honestly takes to long to edit omg this was supposed to come out 2 hours ago. also thanks so much to @ginevranights for the one tweet in here, and @thebisexual-disaster for calling bucky babygirl because it was incredibly funny to me

Previous part || Series masterlist

Everyone is besotted with the cat.

It makes sense– everyone hates Bucky and will dance with glee upon his downfall. This is all his opinion, of course. The truth is that it is a cat and exists and everyone is thrilled. 

Sensing his awful vibes towards her and the constant suspicion he thinks of her with, she decides she likes sitting outside his room at the early hours of the morning and screaming for him to open up.

Once he does, she strolls in leisurely, takes a look around and then strolls back out. Everyday. On the clock. An alarm clock that will cough up a hairball in front of his door should he not open it to her. 

Also turns out she doesn’t have brown spots, the cat was just dirty. She’s pure white and you’ve taken to calling her something to do with snow or blizzards or something. 

She is his mortal enemy. Bucky doesn’t stop to think that his biggest problem being a feud with a cat is possibly an indication that his life has gotten significantly better. 

As with every week, you bang on his door on Friday morning.

Bucky, who's just fallen asleep after the stupid cat ceremoniously woke him up that morning, does not find this ritual as entertaining as you do, but his opinion has rarely held weightage in matters such as his sanity or his sleep schedule. 

He does considr for a whole day that you and the cat are in cahoots to ensure he is as miserable as possible. It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility– Sam talked to birds or and Clint talked to lizards or whatever.

You yell something incomprehensible to him. Bucky yells something back. The world keeps spinning, nothing changes.

Other than the sinking feeling on his chest, that was a bit more pronounced than usual, to the point where it’s a bit hard to breathe.

He pries open one eye, ready to name five things he sees, four things he hears, three things he touches.

The stupid cat smacks him in the face. 

He shoves her off his torso, and along with her, the sinking feeling also reduces. 

After a very useful day of staying in bed no less than three attempts to get back to sleep, Bucky sneaks out of the tower when dusk begins to fall to hopefully get some rest on the park’s grass.  

It’s a nice evening out, the sky was painted a burnt orange, and the air wasn’t too chilly. He could even stop for a burger on the way back to top off a lovely nap. 

But even a gorgeous sunset is not enough to distract him from his heightene awareness going off.

From the corner of his eye, he sees a black van trailing slowly behind him.

He picks up the pace, jogging past a street food vendor and a newspaper stand, and the van only speeds up to keep up.

Soon enough, Bucky breaks into a sprint, ducking into an alleyway and waiting until the van drives past him before stalking back out, eyes vigilant.

Whatever. Stalker be damned, he was going to go to the fucking park. And get a burger. 

But the second he makes a turn on the street corner, the same black van pulls right up to him, not leavning even two feet of space between it and him.

Bucky, annoyed and with 80 years worth of boredom with this schtick, scowls as he yanks open the damn door, ready to just punch and move on with his day.

“Get in loser, we’re going out,” you call from the driver’s seat.

He growls, letting the handle go. “What the actual fuck is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me? I literally told you in the afternoon that I’m picking you up and you starting running from me, you baboon,” you exclaim. “Is that what you’re wearing in this video? Did you not do your laundry?”

Alright, so maybe it was on him to figure out what you actually yelled at him through the door earlier in the day. That doesn’t stop him.

Nostrils flaring, he continues to ignore you. “Who the fuck does this? Why do you have a van?”

“Style,” you insist. “We’re gonna be late, now come on. We’re leaving.”

Sensing that this conversation had reached a standstill, Bucky employs his next best technique.

“Where?” he demands.

“You’ll find out when we get there. Now get in,” you pat the spot next to you before pulling up your phone. “We’ll get there in about an hour–”

“No.”

Your neck cranes slowly to look at him incredulously. “The fuck you mean ‘no’?”

“You could be kidnapping me.” He stands with his arms crossed, tone defiant. 

“Right,” you snort. “You seen yourself? Food laws say I need a cooling truck to transport that much beef around.”

Bucky feels his mouth opening and shutting almost immediately, a strange feeling creeping into the tips of his ears.   

He clears his throat. “I’m not getting in the car unless you tell me where we’re going.”

“I’m not fuckin’ kidnapping you Bucky,” you say, loudly. “And even if I wanted to do it– which I don’t, because you can be so annoying sometimes– you’d never see it coming.” 

“How would I know?” He’s offended that you only think he’s annoying sometimes when he’s been working very hard to make sure it’s a constant feature of his. “Who’s to say there’s not some guy in there with a gun–”

“A gun wouldn’t do shit when you’re so thick in the head–”

“And then SHIELD’s gonna have to shell out the ransom–”

“SHIELD would pay them to keep you.” 

“Oh, so you are kidn–”

“Get in the car,” you say loudly before sitting upright, and turning your attention to the windshield again. “Or don’t. I don’t give a shit.”

He narrows his eyes at you grabbing the steering wheel, while your telekinesis moves to close the door on him.  

Bucky sticks his metal hand between the door and the car, and pries it back open before climbing in. 

“Now what,” he mumbles, arms still crossed over his chest like he’s throwing a tantrum. He even refuses to put the seatbelt. Rebellion. 

You don’t answer, and the car doesn’t move.

When he looks over at you, you have a triumphant, smug smile on your face.  

“What,” he bites. 

You tsk. “Reverse psychology. Always works with children.”

Bucky immediately grabs at the handle, but the locks immediately click into place and you step on the pedal and send the van flying down the road before he has a chance to throw himself out. 

The car pulls up to a mansion. 

All the windows are closed and covered in newspaper, giving him no indication as to what was inside. The lawn was mostly brown, with weeds taking up more space than grass and dead flowers lining the fence. 

“There’s gotta be like 5 bedrooms in that thing,” you note, as you both make your way towards it. “How many ghosts do you think are in there?”

“Zero,” Bucky states plainly. 

You continue to talk like he doesn’t exist. “A house that big, there’s gotta be a ghost butler in there. Maybe a ghost maid.”

“None.”

“Five ghost maids, one for every room, and maybe a cook–”

Bucky starts speed walking, leaving you behind to admire the structure looming over the both of you, only illuminated by the streetlights outside.  

Bucky knocks hard on the door, annoyed that it was getting colder and that he was stuck in his stupid running shorts in a house that definitely had no heating for the evening. 

Eventually, you end up beside him, talking as he keeps his sight fixed right ahead. 

Checking your phone to confirm the address, you mumble absentmindedly to him, “This kid tweeted us like fifteen times in the last week, this is gonna be a sick surprise. I love meeting my fa–”

“A surprise?” Bucky jerks his head towards you. “You didn’t tell him we’re coming?”

“Well no,” you lower your phone, “because that would give the ghosts some warning and we–”

His eyes nearly bug out of his head. “We can’t just go into some random kid’s house and film–”

“He’s hardly random, he’s been bombarding our inbox–”

Your defence is cut off when the door creaks open painfully, slowly, like it was letting out its last dying breath.

“Woah,” you whisper, eyes wide. “Ghost door.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Bucky mumbles.

“Hello?” you call out.

When no one replies immediately, Bucky shoves his hands into his pockets, ready to leave. 

Instead, you shove him to the side, taking his pace in front of the house. He offers no resistance, only a growl in annoyance. 

You clear your throat, before calling loudly, “Hewwo–”

A dark hooded figure springs out at breakneck speed from behind the door, arms raised high, legs wide. 

You don’t look fazed at all, staying entirely still, only with one eyebrow raised.

“Right,” you say. “You must be Jason.”   

“Yuh,” he answers.  

“Where are your parents?” Bucky demands immediately, choosing to ignore the full body cringe his own words give him. 

“Indianna or something, man. I dunno?” The door trembles open a bit more, giving you a clearer look at the guy. “Do you guys wanna come in? It’s cold.”

You take a step inside the huge foyer, almost steretoypically complete with a cascading staircase and big paintings of people on horses and stuff.

 Jason eventually peels the hoodie away from his face, shoving his arms inside the sleeves and spinning it around so he was wearing it the right way. 

“This is Bucky, by the way,” you introduce before beckoning to the man who had refused to move all this while. “Come on, babygirl.”

Bucky does not look wowed with the theatrics as he stands there, arms folded tight across his magnificent chest. 

Jason looks at you. “Is babygirl coming?”

Bucky inhales sharply while you stifle a laugh. “Do not call me that.”

“Oh, he loves it when people call him that, he’s just super pissy because he didn’t get enough attention today,” you coo. “Get in here Bucky.” 

He glares at you with enough intensity to set the house on fire.   

The kid looks like he’s in his early twenties, with shaggy brown hair that hides sleepy eyes, bad posture and a clean shaven face.. His hoodie is paired with grey sweatpants and yellow flip flops that were about one size too small for him. 

“Why’d you tweet at us?” Bucky questions, wondering what he had to do with anything.  

Jason juts his chin up contemplatively. “What do you guys do again?”

You stare at him to avoid how Bucky was staring at you. 

“We hunt ghosts and help old ladies cross the street.” You flash him a smile. 

“Cool.” Jason nods appreciatively. “I don’t have an old lady here.” 

Your eyebrow twitches. Bucky would have taken great joy in your awkwardness had he not felt entirely exasperated by the whole exchange. 

“Well, Jason, you DM’d us about the ghost in the house,” you communicate even slower. “The one that was being rude?”

“Oh, right,” he drags out. “You’re the people from YouTube. Avengers. I didn't think y’all were real, lol.”

“What the fuck.” Bucky mumbles to himself, because there was no way this guy said ‘LOL’ out loud.  “Did you just invite us inside your house without knowing who we are–”  

“Yes, we’re those people,” you interrupt, pulling out a card from your fucking sleeve. “The Graveyard Shift crew, ready and at your service.”

“Since when do we have business cards?” Bucky presses.

“Ignore him, he’s an intern.” You drop the card onto Jason’s hand. “Anyway, we’re the best rated ghost hunters within a twenty yard radius. Maybe even thirty, but I don't wanna get too ahead of myself.”

“Radical.” He flips the card back and forth without actually reading anything. Bucky wonders if he was looking for pictures. “Aren’t you supposed to have like, tech and people and stuff?”

“Some of us have performance anxiety–” you give Bucky a side eye and he rightfully looks absolutely incensed. “So, I’ve got a camera following us at all times and I’ve got all the tech we need.”

Bucky suddenly feels very aware of something hovering behind him, and it takes an incredible amount of self-restraint to not instinctually slap it out of existence.

He whips around to find a camera floating mid air, aimed directly at him almost like it is waiting for a reaction. While weird, it was still better than the stupid GoPro on his head that elongated his forehead to a sixhead.

“And I’ve got a REM Pod, a spirit box to pick up sounds when they talk to us, a water gun full of assorted waters from different beliefs for one gigantic spirit burning milkshake–” you list rapidly and Bucky cannot even tell where the fuck you’re pulling these things out from. “So, we should be good to go.”

Jason doesn’t look bothered at all, as he drags out, “Cool, lol.”

Bucky almost feels offended on your behalf by the little twerp. 

“Hold this,” you instruct, pressing the spirit box into Bucky's chest without giving him a choice. “Ready whenever you are, but before we start I just wanted to ask– why’d you come to us for help? I’m sure you have plenty of options.”

“Oh,” the guy says, wiping his hands down the side of his sweatpants. “You guys are Avengers and stuff…”

He doesn’t add anything else, watching you both like it was obvious. 

When neither of you offer an answer, he continues “I mean, no one else seemed to like, know kickboxing and shi–”

“I’m sorry– kickboxing?”

“Or like, karate.” He lifted his shoulder in a half shrug. “Whatever you guys are into, I don’t really care what style of combat it is.”

When it finally clicks, Bucky snorts. “You want us to fuckin’ fight your ghost?”

“Yeah, like a punch or something, I guess.” Jason looks too serious. “He’s being a real bitch dick.”

You exhale steadily. “First of all, how do you know it’s a ‘he’?”

Jason shakes his head, and his hair falls directly into his one eye, leaving you to only look at the other. “I’m pretty sure it’s my uncle.”

“Your uncle?” 

“Well yeah,” the guy responds, “this is his house. He built it and decorated it and shit.” 

You stare at him in disbelief. “You didn’t mention that in the brief.”

Bucky looks at you. “You got a brief?”

“Uh, yeah, it’s my uncle’s house, I guess,” Jason continues when you wave Bucky off. “He, like, kicked the bucket a few years ago. Like, totally died off.”

Bucky’s eyebrows knit together. 

“We weren’t, like, close or anything but I guess he didn’t have any other relatives which figures, because he’s a pain in the ass, but I’m the next male heir or whatever, so I got it.”

“Male heir,” Bucky repeats slowly, wondering which fucking TV show he’s walked into.

“A 6BHK in this economy is a fuckin’ castle,” you shush him, turning to Jason again. “Didn’t you bother renovating or anything?”

“Clearly not,” Bucky mumbles, because he may have only known Jason for a grand total of a few minutes, but he really doubts that it was he who picked out redwood furniture and gold trimmings. 

“Nah, I don’t care. I usually spend all day doing gigs at my friend’s house but he told me I can’t keep throwing ragers there every night so I wanna do that here but he’s just being a big baby about it,” he explains all in one breath.

“What gigs?” Bucky asks curiously.

“I’m a DJ who specialises in acoustic EDM,” he says, chest puffing in pride. 

“Of course.” Bucky nods in return. 

Jason turns to you. “Didn’t think you guys were coming, not gonna lie.”

“You just do that whole door opening show to everyone?” you ask, amused.

“Uh, no, I just heard you guys arguing outside and thought it’d be funny,” he says. “I got you guys good, lol.” 

“Well, not me,” you counter, “but Bucky, for sure, pissed his pants a litt–”

“Anyway, here’s the keys. I’m out,” Jason cuts in. “It’s my last three performances at Rick’s house.” 

He tosses the key at babygirl’s Bucky’s chest, who instinctively catches it with ease.  

“You’re just giving us the house for the night?” Bucky stares at him incredulously. 

“Yuh. There’s, like, beer in the fridge if you want. No one delivers here ‘cause someone snitched that this place is haunted, which was kinda fucked. So there’s ramen in the fridge too if you’re hungry.”

“Why is there ramen in–”

“See y’all later, lol,” he takes off without another word. 

Bucky’s left staring after the guy who just strolls down the garden and out the gate without a second look.

“I think I want to adopt him.” Your gaze trails after him, before you crack your knuckles. “Alright. Let’s get this guy’s bitch dick uncle.”

The longer Bucky spends in the house, he can tell with absolute certainty that someone loved this place deeply. It is styled and decorated with the flair of a passion project, even though it currently looked like it dreamed of being a landfill when it grew up. There were cobwebs everywhere and several dust bunnies in every corner, and also many crushed cans of beer all around the floor. 

The previous owner had taste for sure. Bucky’s not sure if he’d appreciate Jason turning it into the newest hotspot for his ragers. Whatever that meant. 

“How long are we going to be here?” he asks, swiping a finger across the table. 

“Why, you got something to do?” you pause before adding, “Or someone to do?”

He sends you a jaded glance. “None of your business.”

“You literally called me the love of your life.” You scoff from your corner of the room. 

“You called yourself that,” Bucky reminds monotonously. 

“And you have never denied it.”

“I’m denying it right no-”

“Bzzt, too late. Anyway,” you announce. “Your hot date will have to be postponed, I fear. We are not leaving until we get some sort of proof.”

“Two hours.” Bucky holds up two dust coated fingers.

“I’ll buy you a pretzel.”

“Three hours.” His middle finger goes up in solidarity. 

You grin. “More than enough. We’re gonna make you a believer, babygirl.”

True, and surprisingly enough, an hour later, his whole life changes. 

“Holy shit,” Bucky can’t quite believe his eyes either, stomach turning. 

“What?” You’re somewhere behind, stupid machine held up as you spin around like a ballerina waiting for something to do something and make a noise or some shit. He doesn’t know. 

Bucky has tucked the spirit box behind his ear like a pencil, arms gripping the doors.

“What the hell,” he trails off slowly, eyes glued to the sight in front of him, hypnotising.

“Did you find something?” you whisper-yell, and the camera whizzes past you into his line of sight.

Bucky swallows the bile in his throat. 

“When he said ramen’s in the fridge, I didn’t think he meant he boiled a fuckin’ bucket full of noodles and just left it in there. What the fuck.” He grabs the aforementioned bucket and lifts it into the air. “Who does this? What the fuck?”

You let out a huff, lightly stomping yor foot. “Be so serious right now.”

“Are you crazy? Look at this.” Bucky spins it around to look at it from every angle. “It’s got ‘Jason’s ramen’ written on it. Who the fuck else’s would this be?”

“You’re supposed to be looking for ghosts,” you insist. “That is demonic behaviour. It’s not the same.”

“I’m lookin’ for snacks,” Bucky puts the damn bucket back and ignores it to look through the rest of the fridge. “There’s nothing here. What does that kid eat?”

“If you’re looking for snacks, you gotta look in the mirror,” you hum hopefully. 

“Hilarious.” Bucky’s voice comes back muddled from the several bottles of beer in the fridge. 

“I’m sorry, you’re right. It’s not useful.” you correct, “You said you’re looking for snacks, not a whole meal.”

He stops briefly. Bucky’s not sure what to do with all this strange attention you give him. It makes him feel all sorts of ways and he doesn’t like it one bit. 

“Whatever,” he mutters, continuing to scavenge. 

“Woah, calm down there, Prince Charming.” You snicker. “Give a person a warning before pulling out all your best lines on me like that.”

“You’re supposed to be working, not flirting,” Bucky responds, feeling the same burn at the tip of his ears from that evening. 

“When I was in the events business, multitasking was considered a valuable and necessary skill.”

Bucky stands up so fast he nearly hits his head on the fridge.

“What’s with all these random jobs you keep saying you’ve done?” he questions. “They told me you went on the run a long time ago and that’s where you met Nat.”

Your face changes, features becoming more solemn. He doesn’t know what’s going on, because he’s never seen you this serious before, not even when you guys were hanging out in the library. 

“Bucky,” your voice drops a few octaves, straight and steady. “Answer me this honestly.”

He feels a bit defensive because it almost feels like he’s fucked up somehow.

“What?” he questions. 

You watch him for another second before taking a step toward him, observing him closely.

“Did you really ask people about me?” 

He straightens up ever so slightly. “Why?”

You look at him gravely. “I got one more question.”

You take another step, reducing the space btween you to almost a ciminally low amount. Bucky’s sure he can hear your heartbeat. 

You watch his eyes look into yours intently, a flciker or doubt there.

You open your mouth, voice low and strong, “When will you admit to yourself you’re obsessed with me?”

It takes a second for it to register, and almost instantly he shoves you away, only to have you break into a laugh. 

“You’re so fucking annoying.”

“You have a crush on me,” you sing, “why else are you going around asking your friends about me? Do you want them to put in a good word? You gonna ask them to deliver your handwritten note to me?”

“Fuck right off, and then fuck off some more,” he barks, grabbing a beer from the front of the line. 

“Don’t worry, Buck, I think you’re the cutest guy in our whole grade, no competition,” you drawl, grinning at the pissed expression on his face. 

Bucky swerves around you to beeline to the kitchen island to drink his stupid beer in peace. He thinks that his retirement age is actually nearing. 

A house like this, with a room for Steve and another guest room for whoever wanted to visit. Possibly a dog. There wasn’t musch left in life to do, so he may as well spend the rest of it out in the suburbs in quiet. 

A few seconds later, you break the silence with, “But to answer your question: I did go on the run. I just did all those jobs while I was running.”

He turns to you, noting that while your face was light, it seemed like there was sincerity and truth in what you were saying. 

“Why?” he asks, voice gruff.

You shrug, half a smile on your face. “Why not? I met Nat when she broke down the door of my accountancy office on one of her missions. I threw some staplers and hit a guy with a printer, and from then on, whenever I needed help or she needed my freaky little powers, we’d reach out. Years later, she asked if I wanted to come join, I was bored and now here we are. I’m a nepo baby, if you kinda think about it.” 

Bucky looks at you, but says nothing. 

“Anyway, brief history aside, I’m going upstairs. There’s nothing here other than your bitchy aura and bucket ramen.” The camera spins around to follow you.

Bucky simply ignores you as he swipes all the garbage off the counter and onto the ground so he can lean against it, alone with his beer and new information to process.

However, a loud creek, unmistakable and intense, comes from the floor above. 

You look at Bucky. He doesn’t look the least bit bothered, instead using his metal hand to pop open a beer he fished out of the damn fridge. 

“Can you shut up,” you hiss when he drinks a little too loud for your liking. 

“What,” he asks through a mouthful of beer as he drops the bottle cap onto the counter.

Another creek reverberates loudly through the house.

You make a face at him, somewhere in a mix between excitement and anticipation. 

“Is that supposed to mean something?” he inquires.

“Two creeks in the last minute,” you insist, like he’s stupid. 

He scoffs. “So? It’s an old house, if you breathe too hard the floor’s gonna fall off.”

“It is literally not that old. And second, it’s too much of a coincidence.” You make way towards the stairs, beckoning for him to follow. “And take the spirit box out of your hair, we need to catch if it’s saying something.”

“You're not gonna catch anything because it’s not going to speak because ghosts are not real.” He takes a large swig. 

You ignore him, leaving in search of the sound.

Bucky takes a second before following you anyway, bored out of his mind and with nothing really to do.

“You comin’ in?” he asks from inside the spacious room, beer in hand. 

“I didn’t even buy you dinner yet and you’re already inviting me into your bedroom.”

“Jesus Christ. Stay outside then.”

The room has a strange, musty smell. Bucky, sick and tired of the ebay this kid has been living, drags open the window to let some fresh air in, going so far as to tear a large hole through the newspaper to let the moonlight into the room. 

“Someone keeps moving the furniture back and forth, there’s scratches all over the floor,” you observe, pointing to the ground near the table and the bed. 

“Uh huh,” he says, tossing the spirit box onto the table before taking another swig, ducking out of the way of the camera. 

You scan every corner with the machine in your hand. Bucky wanders around aimlessly for a second before usefully sitting on the bed, leaning against the pillows. 

“You gonna take your shirt off next?” you question. 

Bucky rolls his eyes, taking another sip from his bottle. “Pay attention. Your demons are trying to talk t-.” 

The bed immediately lurches from underneath him, scraping loudly against the wood. 

“What the fuck–” he exclaims, getting right back up, heart in his throat for a damn second. 

You stifle a laugh.

“I’ve had enough of you today.” He puts the damn bottle down on the nightstand. “I’m leaving.” 

“We didn’t even light the candles yet, you can’t–”

The bed scrapes back into place again, but this time Bucky is prepared and done. 

“Stop doing that,” he snaps, “you’re ruining the flo–”

“I didn’t do that,” you tell him, eyebrows and hands raised, “That definitely wasn’t me.”

“Hardy har har. You didn’t push the bed, you didn’t climb the tree in the cemetery, you didn’t conjure up hallucinations of my–” He stops himself abruptly.

It’s too late, though. You very much caught it. 

The look you give him is peculiar. “Hallucinations of your what?” 

“Nothing,” he utters. “Got my wires crossed. Nothing to do with you.”

“Okay,” you drag out, giving him one more uncanny look before turning your attention to the bedpost. “Anyway, I promise you the second one was definitely not me. There’s something else going on here.”

Bucky is starkly sent back to fifteen minutes ago and his thoughts of retirement as he watches you crouch by the floor.

He was too old for this. He was not right for this. The three second glance at his dead sister and his entire life had gone lopsided. Honestly, he could probably handle like two or three more episodes of this nonsense before tapping out completely. 

“I can sense something,” you announce.

“I can sense something too,” he murmurs absentmindedly to himself. “It’s called bullshi–”

“Be quiet, I want to see if we can talk to the guy in the room.” You hold your hand up. “Hey Jason’s uncle. You here?”

He watches, unamused, as nothing changes. No machine beeps, nothing creeks.

“Bucky, you scared him away.” You turn to him, hands on your hips. “You used your big bitch face and you scared away th–”

He launches a pillow at you. It lowers to the ground without ever touching you. 

“Go eat some bucket ramen and maybe you’ll be less bitchy.” Your face lights up, and he can tell you’ve gotten another stupid idea. “Jason’s uncle, are you hungry? Do you want something to eat? Human blood? Metal arm?”

Silence.

“No pretzels for you,” you tsk, but let go of the idea anyway. 

“Maybe your ghost boyfriend likes them, why don’t you ask him?” He pulls out his phone to book himself an Uber. “And since he literally doesn’t talk and you don’t shut up, it’d be a great ma–”

The same pillow he launched at you gets thrown back at him. He simply ducks out of the way, and it hits the nightstand, toppling the bottle over.

“Now look at what you did,” you accuse, pointing at the bottle with the camera following suit. 

“The fuck? I didn't do shit–” Bucky stops speaking when something nudges his leg. 

The bottle that initially had clattered to the ground quite a feet away from him was now by his foot.

“Interesting,” you muse.

“What?” he questions immediately. “That a bottle rolled? It’s a bottle. They do that.”

“Uh huh. Come stand here then.” You jut your thumb out to a few paces away. 

He rolls his eyes but takes a large stride towards you.  

Annoyingly, the bottle rolls right along with him and lands up at his feet.

“Ghost,” you nod along certainly. 

“Why isn't it doing that then?” he argues on instinct, and then his mind catches up, forcing him to take a step back and wonder why the fuck he was still in the house. 

Once again, he genuinely believes that this should be enough. Ghost hunted for a few episodes, read a few stories. He thinks his numbers should be up and that would be convincing enough for Maya to let him get away from the series, especially if he played his 80-years-of-imprisonment card right.  

“You're right.” You peer at him before turning your head up to the ceiling. “Please, ghost man. Please, I’m begging you, hit this man. Plea–”

Bucky feels something smack lightly against the back of his head before falling to the ground.

A second later you erupt into cheers and he turns around to look at the culprit.

A crumpled up piece of paper.  He bends down to pick it up, finding nothing special about it other than some random scribbles. Probably some more of Jason's junk. 

“Ghosts are real and they hate Bucky Barnes, baby!,” you cheer. “Ohh, I’m gonna make so much money. Babygirl, you are a poltergeist magnet. ”

“It’s a piece of paper and the window is open,” he groans, tossing it back onto the ground, where it dances around, proving his point. “The wind carried it over and it touched my head.”

“Right. The wind.” You roll your eyes. “You’re like, fifteen feet tall, only God can see the top of your head.”

“That doesn’t mean any–”

“Hush, I’m thinking. Quiet, human Burj Khalifa.” You hold your hand up. “Let’s see. The ghost knocks on furniture when we were downstairs. It shoves the bed and rolls a bottle around on the ground when we’re arguing and right when you’re leaving, it throws a piece of paper at you. What could it all mean?”

“I got it.” BUccky straightens up. “Holy shit, I think I know what it means.”

“What?” you ask, wonder and mystery. “What does it mean?”

“It means that my Uber’s here,” Bucky replies in the same tone and mystery. “You’re insane. I’m leaving. Bye.”

“Ugh, you’re such a loser. If I turn up dead, you’ll have been the last person to see me alive.”

“I’ll see you at home.” He shoves his hands into the pocket of his shorts before turning on his heel. 

“I do not have a home.” you say, reaching to grab the piece of paper he discarded and shoving it into your bag; 

“Okay, see you on the news, then.” He kicks the damn bottle out of the way before heading out the door. “I’ll make sure they use a real nice picture of you.”

“Bitch–” you begin, when something catches your attention

The bed creeks loudly, reflexes instantly sending him into fight or flight. 

Bucky turns to you to cuss you out again for the nth time that evening, but you’ve also got a look of confusion painted all over you. 

“Hold on,” you say strangely, voice thick with theorising, “I think I actually figured it out.”

When Jason finally makes his way back to the house two hours later, his hair is littered with stray bits of confetti and his eyes are smudged with eyeliner. He’s got a smoothie cup full of glittery red liquid and a straw, and what looks like little bits of fruit floating around in there. 

“Looks like the gig was a rager,” you comment. 

“Nah this wasn’t from the gig. I got lost,” he dismisses, and then refuses to expand further. “Anyway, you kicked his ass, right?”

You look at Bucky, who is standing with his arms crossed over his chest, bitch face on full blast as he looks pissed in the corner.

“Your uncle– he decorated this house himself, right?” you prompt. 

“Yeah.” Jason says, taking a sip from his unidentified liquid. “He got a bunch of shit custom made.” 

“Right.” You nod. “And when you came in here, did you shift the furniture around?”

“Yeah, lol, it was mad ugly,” Jason divulges, taking one large last sip before dropping his cup onto the ground. “Mine’s way better.” 

“Have you considered that maybe… your uncle doesn’t like that?” you try gently, eyes following the cup as it clatters gracefully onto the ground. 

Bucky talks to himself under his breath, the same as when you told him that the only time spooky shit had happened was when he dropped bottle caps, shifted beds out of their original places, left behind bottles and other paper. But he doesn’t contradict you. 

“I see,” Jason says. “What’s wrong with moving furniture again?”

Bucky wonders how the guy made it to this age. “Maybe he just doesn’t like you moving his shit around. Not that there’s a ghost at all.” 

“Hmm,” he says, following along. “So I stop moving the bed and other stuff, and he’ll stop being such a bitch?”

“And maybe he doesn’t like you leaving trash around the place?” you eye the cup, completely understanding where the uncle was coming from. 

“Okay,” Jason says again. 

“So you’ll stop?” you proposition slowly.

He shrugs. “Nah, I like it better this way.”

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky exhales.

You hold back an audible groan. 

“You could, like, punch him to get him off my back. Like, all the way off my back,” the guy suggests instead. “Like, sucks for him that he’s dead, I guess, but it’s like, my house now.”

You stay quiet and wait. 

Sure enough, the cup from earlier bumps into his leg in silent fury.

He stares down at it, giving it a kick. It rolls away before rolling right back with malice. Bucky narrows his eyes at it, too tired at this point to even complain. 

“This house is weird, man,” Jason declares after fifteen rounds of kicking it and watching it roll back. 

“Look–” you sigh. “You could just stop littering, and he’ll stop messing with your layout.”

“And take out the trash more than once a month,” Bucky adds from under his breath. 

“Life’s all about compromises. You get his house for free and he gets a clean house to spend his afterlife in.”

“No such thing,” Bucky adds.

You send a glare his way.

“I see,” Jason contemplates, as if it’s the toughest decision on earth to pick up his crushed soda cans. “Yeah, okay.”

A second later, the cup finally stops trying to assault his now pink flip flops. and comes to a standstill. 

The both of you peer at him.

“What?” he asks. 

Your gaze drifts down.

It takes a very long second for it to click.

“Oh ‘Kay,” he says, bending over to pick it up and place it back on his table, looking at you for confirmation, to which you nod. 

It stays in its place. 

“Radical,” he says. 

No one says anything further. The bed doesn’t make a noise either. The air is almost dropping with awkwardness. 

You clear your throat. “Well, that concludes it then. Pleasure meeting ya.”

“You too.” Jason gives you a thumbs up, following it with a peace sign. 

“Bye,” Bucky says curtly, turning to walk out the room.

“Oh! Here’s our business card, in case you or anyone else you–”

Bucky spins you around by your shoulders and drags you out of the room with him. 

On the way back, you sort through all the footage from the evening while Bucky drives the van back. 

Thankfully, it has been relatively quiet the entire time, except for the soft sounds of the radio and the buzz of the heater. Bucky tunes out for most of the ride, one hand on the wheel and the other propping up his head.  

“Huh,” you comment out of the blue. “That’s fun.”

“What?” he asks inattentively . 

“I guess his uncle really was hungry,” you consider. 

Bucky simply keeps quiet and waits for you to go on if you choose to.

“Piece of paper that he threw at you–”

“Piece of paper that the wind picked up,” even his entertaining of you has a limit, but he isn’t paying much attention. 

“It’s got letters on it,” you shove the sheet in front of his eyes, forcing him to swerve on the road in an instant. 

“I’m driving,” he hisses, shoving it aside swiftly. “Do you want us to die?” 

“Yeah, yeah, but look at it,” you insist, only to hold it close to his face again. “Does this mean anything to you? It did hit you across the head.”

He refuses to believe you at first, but the second he glances at it, it’s unmistakable.

‘PB&J’ written messily across the page, small letters, lines jagged like someone was struggling to write with their non-dominant hand.

“That’s nothing,” he dismisses quietly, “He’s a college kid. They live on that shit.” 

“Or maybe someone in the afterworld really misses their PB&J,” you hum. 

Bucky doesn't answer, because the alternative is worse. The alternative means something is going very, very wrong. 

 But you don't seem to pay him any heed, going right back to sorting through footage. 

It’s probably why you don’t notice that his one handed grip on the steering wheel gets tighter, and his face quietly drains of colour. 

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing!

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[guinevereslancelot]

starting to kind of date someone right before christmas is so stressful fr. do i get him a gift or what we've been on two dates but i'm seeing him tonight n it's christmas eve.....but what if he didn't get me anything then it will be weird.....

[cheriafreya]

Penacony's 2.0-2.2 patches: genuinely HSR's peak, full of unforgettable moments. I still get chills watching the cutscenes and some of them still make me cry like the first day.

Penacony's 2.3, 2.6 and 2.7 patches:

[b4kuch1n]

tdov was like a week ago already but I just wanna say when I came over to vacation slash help my sworn brother move flat he told me, "ever since you said you wanted to get top surgery I've been thinking about it. it's straight up number two on my bucket list"

[illegiblehandwriting1]

fyi i swear something's going on w/ legend, neither he nor wars are emotionless i promise, they're both just mentally ill but in different ways. leg sees problem. ignores feelings. fixes problem. (can't fix the problem.) wars sees problem. saw problem wrong. realizes what he did. wants to take it back. (can't take it back.) Also if y'all are disappointed about their arcs, sorry? i guess? point isn't them though, the point is that it's an aftermath story. If i can stuff in more bonus themes within the theme then that's a huge plus (emotionally repressed explorer leg, wwI vet wars yeet)

anyhoo bear with me, Things are Happening. Setup is occurring. and Hylia fans I swear I won't insult her forever, she's actually pretty chill.

writing hard. halp

[knifegremliin]

i changed my mind, moving sucks (<- is in the cleaning up and getting rid of things step in the moving process)

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

it's like. everything happens so much. it's all happening right now but at the same time nothing is happening whatsoever. it's a liminal space of an existence. it's slowly crushing me under the weight but when I look up there's nothing actually bearing down on me. there shouldn't be any weight. something is wrong but nothing has happened. I'm simultaneously overwhelmed and utterly bored. nothing is happening and maybe that's the everything that's happening. maybe the everything is the nothing. we aren't there yet but it's all so imminent. either everything is going to crash down or nothing is. I'm just waiting to figure out which.

[izzy-b-hands]

I will be forever grateful i can be on this new med. it's one a lot of folks also need and can struggle to have access to! It's important i be on it, especially if i start doing any vid collabs

(some of which, really, all of which, i unfortunately actually need to cancel that were in the preplanning stages, bc the election results have me wanting to wait and see how the general atmosphere of the country is before i agree to meet up with anyone. I feel bad for cancelling, but also i just can't know for sure how safe things are/might be going forward and I'd rather avoid the potential of. ya know. various not great things that could happen at a meet up, tho i would certainly hope they wouldn't. i don't feel like actually addressing them rn, u guys know what i mean)

That said, if the truvada initial side effects could fuck off asap would be so lovely. three weeks at worst, then they should be gone/much better or so i am told. really hope that's true bc losing my mornings to being dizzy and nauseous is Not Working for me lmao. im on week two, and now understand why my new doc said to call if i needed any 'cheerleading' and support to get thru the side effects, bc apparently she's done that for several ppl to make sure they actually make it thru the three weeks and keep on it (lovely of her!!)

[ilkkawhat]

Heya! Hope you’re doing okay ❤️

well, i didn't cry today (and more importantly didn't cry at work in front of everybody) so I'm taking that as a sign that things are getting better...I hope 😅

[blujayonthewing]

so in juniper's campaign we've just found ourselves in a high-stakes situation that I as a player do frankly find stressful and am anxious about, but hey hi also the DM was like 'okay here are the exact mechanics of how this is going to work because I don't want to surprise you with serious repercussions, also here are all the options you will have to try to do something about the situation-- [affected player] what do you think? honest feedback, I don't want it to feel unfair, I want to be clear that I am not just trying to kill your character, and if it ends up being badly balanced we can revisit it down the road' and oh my god I could COLLAPSE and WEEP with gratitude

[tardis--dreams]

I actually realized i hate work. Won't be putting any effort into this anymore ♡