#i'm not even! i'm not even against the 'pairing everyone up' concept!!! i mean god knows w.bg does it in canon!

[luxflora]

committing violence against amatonormativity in my mind rn. can you people just have fucking friends

[tokiro07]

Undead Unluck ch.194 thoughts

[Violence for Violence is the Rule of Beasts]

(Contents: lore)

Always appreciate a lore drop

So we've finally confirmed that not every UMA has a Negator, and not every Negator has a UMA. It does seem strange to me that Fuuko would say the pairings are rare when we've seen so many, though. Death, Change, Luck, Move, Stop, Burn, Tell, and possible Information with Unknown, that's 7 or 8 out of 28 Negators who have a UMA counterpart: that's between 25 and 30%, I wouldn't call that rare, and it seems likely that many other Negators do have UMAs like presumably Justice, Fade, Sleep and Break at the very least since those feel like the most restrictive

Maybe I'm misreading it though and every Negator does have a UMA, and the pairs are rare in the sense that it's rare to find a UMA that can be Negated directly. Still, the main point is there's no Unbeast, there may not be an Unsoul, there's probably no Unsummer/Unwinter/etc., and most disappointingly there's no Uncrab. I really wanted to see that one, too...

With this revelation, we now know that the already dire disparity between Negator and UMA in this competition is much worse than it ever seemed. I never really considered the possibility of, say, every Negator and UMA lining up to square off against each other, but if our original concept of all Rules having one on each side were true, then it would be only slightly skewed in favor of the UMA since they're giant monsters with healing factors. Knowing that there are significantly more UMA than Negators, though, that would be an obvious loss for the Negator side as the sheer number of nigh-invincible monsters would obviously overwhelm the smaller force that can Negate at best a third of the opposition

However, I don't believe that Luna simply let Sun stack the deck in his favor completely unilaterally. The fact that there's never been a point where all of the UMA could attack at once and the rules of engagement allow for the Union to team up against them while also utilizing Artifacts means that Luna must have made a concerted effort to rebalance the game, though clearly she's the "challenger" since Sun is still undeniably the one with the advantage. That's a fairly standard rule in bets like this - the one who wants to usurp the throne has to fight at a disadvantage to prove that they're stronger or more deserving of it than the current ruler

It also just makes for more exciting storytelling for the main cast to be weaker than the enemy, as everyone loves an underdog story. Equal rivals are fun too, but uncontested beatdowns get stale fast, so it's for the best that the cast that the audience follows has to struggle. This is especially fun in series like UU since it requires that the cast gets clever with how they use their powers, like Andy stacking Unchange/Undraw/Unbreakable to squish Sick in under a minute

I hope that this ends up getting brought back up when we next fight Sun or talk to Luna, cus the nature of their relationship is probably the biggest hole left to fill here. Right now they're pretty nebulous gods; we know about their game, and we've seen that Luna has a surprisingly nasty personality for being ostensibly on "our side," but other than that we know next to nothing about either of them. What kind of life did they have before they started their game? How long did they exist? Were there other gods, or just them? Were they always enemies? Are they even enemies now? It looks like it'll still be a while before we get to answer any of these questions, but this chapter really helped contextualize exactly how their wager is set up

Until next time, let's enjoy life!

[be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie]

So I'm bored again and I've come to take it out on you per usual.

Now, since my last ask touched upon darker(ish) ideas, today I figure I'll give you some lighter soulmate prompts this time around, the ideas all my own but any individual soulmate au is just one I plucked off of the internet. I may or may not end up writing them who knows:

When your soulmate is hurt, you grow flowers wherever on your body it happened. Her whole life, foreign flowers have sprouted from Neytiri's flesh and she doesn't know why. His whole life, foreign flowers have sprouted from Jake's flesh and he doesn't know why. (Just a cute flower fic. Obsessed with the idea of these two trying to explain their respective planets' flowers to one another.)

Ao'nung and Rotxo have known they were soulmates since before they even had any actual clue as to what a soulmate was. They have been promised to each other for over a decade. They have a plan, a life they're going to build together. Neteyam was never part of that plan. A third soulmate was never part of that plan. (Just like the idea of Rotxo literally doing the gods' work. Ao'nung: why is Neteyam here? Rotxo: Oh, I just thought it'd be fun to bring him along. Ao'nung: to our make-out spot? Neteyam: . . . I can go. Ao'nung: yes. Rotxo: no. Neteyam:  👀)

Neteyam and Tsireya are not soulmates. Not by a long shot. Their soulmate might as well be duty, and if that means becoming mates for the sake of an alliance between the sea and forest people after centuries of conflict then so be it. They'll find a way to come together. (I love stories of people fighting against the path chosen for them, don't get me wrong, but every now and then a sprinkle of the opposite fascinates me and I think these two would be perfect for the concept.)

Jake was born with the sentence "you should go away" on his shoulder and the sentence "don't thank. You do not thank for this" on his upper arm. Tsu'tey was born with the sentence "nah, you'd miss me too much" stretched across his abdomen. Neytiri has the sentence "hey wait, don't" on her lower arm. It isn't until the two go to the Augustine school that they even learn what it means. (Love the potential this has.)

From the moment they meet it's as if they can read each other's minds. It takes months for Jake and Norm to pick up on the fact that Kiri and Spider can actually read one another's minds. (They basically know each other better than anyone else, might as well crank that shit up to 11.)

A one-shot where Kiri and Tsireya are literally the lighthouse of soulmate relationships and all of their friends come to them to receive advice about their own soulmates. (Really random pairing but tbh I can dig the energy these two would bring to the table if dating.)

Spider has known that Neteyam is his soulmate since he was 7. Neteyam has known that Spider is his soulmate since he was six. Neither of them have told the other yet. (Bonus points if Tuk is literally the only one who knows and keeps on trying to play cupid.)

And I'm out for now folks.

Also, random thought but I just realized how much literally everyone in atwow needs a Rotxo in their life like seriously you could pair this guy with anyone from the group and I wouldn't bat an eye. Kiri? I get it. Ao'nung? I get it. Spider? I get it. Neteyam? I get it. Lo'ak? I get it.

Good god, yes, we nEED some happy aus and you know I love love soulmate aus. I'll be waiting for you to write them, we're all waiting for your other stories Boredom Anon.

-Gotta say, I've never vibed with those flower wound aus because I have a hard time conceptualizing it. However, I adore the idea of Jake and Neytiri both explaining differences in their worlds to each other, but focusing on one type of thing. That's why I lOVE a daemon au for them, because the daemons would be animals that the other isn't used to and that's interesting.

-KSKKSKS THE IDEA OF AO'NUNG BEING TRICKED INTO THIS BY ROTXO. That's a pairing I have yet to see, I'll be honest!

-Honestly, as someone that doesn't care for Neteyam and Tsireya, I do love the idea of non-soulmates bonding. I've been thinking about it since the Spider ghost fic I mentioned yesterday. How many people's soulmates are dead and are ghosts? If it's a lot, they have to end up in some relationships. There's something so sad and beautiful about meeting someone who's soulmate is also dead, and building a life together that might not have been predestined and is also a little haunted, but still is nice all the same. Sorry, I'm still stuck on the ghost shit.

-lOVE Neytiri/Tsu'tey/Jake having first sentence soulmarks, I love the confusion of the Na'vi being confronted with English they don't understand on their children. I love it so much.

-Kiri and Spider reading each others minds is basically canon already, but it just would mean Spider can't hide all of his darkest feelings from Kiri. None of that loneliness or desperation for family can slip through the cracks; I think it would result in a Sully child revolution at a way younger age lol. If Spider being Kiri's soulmate didn't already change things.

-I have totally seen Tsireya and Kiri shit, they are super fun. I also loooove a couple that is flawless and in everyone else's business all the time.

-I think nocorro might have taken over locorro for me, but I cAN'T say this yet it's too much to do to my boys. This concept, man, it's got so much comedy and tragedy potential. It depends on what the soulmate au is, you know? Is it soulmarks, is it shared dreams or shared pain; what is is changes the outcome. I won't go into more detail cause I have something I'm cooking up that's a little similar to this, but I won't forget it, we'll come back to it.

As always, thank you for our soulmate au food boredom anon. I am lOVING them.

[canonically47]

also i HATE when fandoms make up ships just for the sake of making them up. the biggest example i know is reed900, those guys never interacted and barely had ten minutes of screentime combined (and that's being generous), why do we have one fan-created full-length movie and multiple fanmade spin-offs based on them?

or in the TADC fandom, everyone immediately started saying "pomni and ragatha are in love" or "jax and gangle/jax and zooble enemies to lovers" or "caine x kinger >>>" or literally ANY PAIRING YOU CAN THINK OF. just for the sake of shipping. (for the record, i ship royalteeth; these are just examples)

now, am i saying i am against shipping culture altogether? absolutely not. i love shipping my silly fictional couples, often they are a source of comfort for me. but you cannot deny that some ships are made just for the sake of having characters in relationships - as if they wouldn't be good or even better off without one! who the hell came up with pomni x jax? they don't even have chemistry, are you just shipping them because main girl + main boy = love? is that really a good base for your ship?

this may just be because the concept of romance is beyond me as an aromantic person, but i swear, i am so tired of some of these ships. i do love a good crackship (lord knows what i've done with yansim, you would call me a hypocrite if you saw my fics) and main boy x main girl can always be done correctly (mostly if it's canon though, and not just for the sake of having the two main people in a straight ship) - conrisa (connor x risa from the unwind dystology) for example is an amazing protag x protag ship, but where conrisa excels, miracolev (miracolina x lev from the same books) falls flat for me;

but sometimes i do feel like shipping is done just for the sake of having a character in a romantic relationship, and not because the ship makes sense, has chemistry or interest in one another - just because romance is the way to go, i guess. another example is hank x connor from D:BH, my god, where the fuck did that one come from? it ruins the aspect of both characters as their stories have nothing to do with romance and they even have a father-son-like relationship! jeez people

and especially in media like TADC or hitman, which do not focus on romance at all but on existential crisises (TADC) and murder and moral questions (hitman), we do not need all the pomni x jax, gangle x jax, diana x 47, diana x lucas etc. nonsense. just enjoy the thing. just enjoy the individual character.

if this comes off wrong, i'm sorry - i have a lot of thoughts about this, and i cannot word it better <//3 i don't mean disrespect as, as i've said, i love a good crackship or just ship in general... it's just... why do we always have to ship everything and everyone?

[nokingsonlyfooles]

If you like my writing...

I know there's a few of you our there. I can hear you scrolling.

WELL, STAHP!

The concept of a Well, There's Your Problem fanfiction has taken over my brain and I will probably be finishing it in a hyperfixated frenzy after a few more days. I am a postmodern absurdist and this is my Art! However WTYP is very niche and I am making so many in-jokes it is unreal. I am going to post this story/script here, but if you want to enjoy it, you'll need to be at least a little into this engineering disasters podcast.

I am referencing, specifically: The Kursk; The Silver Bridge Disaster; The Atmospheric Railway; The 1943 Frankford Junction Wreck; and (I think) either the Bhopal Disaster or Aberfan. Also, the Ghostbusters films (it's a crossover). I recommend you start with The Atmospheric Railway, it's not too terribly long and you'll find out if you like jokes about rat smoothies before you get into the darker stuff. I gave Ms. Caldwell-Kelly a chance to choose the forms of engineering disaster Gozer the Gozerian would take, but she didn't get back to me. Either I got lost in a torrent of asks or she thinks I'm nuts and fears me. She is not wrong, but I didn't have the patience to wait.

There are all of three fics of WTYP at AO3 and I don't think any of them are quite this... epic. Unhinged, yes, maybe, but not like this. I'll be lucky number four! But I'll post it to Tumblr too, so I can render the slides for ya. Here is a preliminary excerpt:

A (Alice, she still seems to be going by that in podcast land): Right. Right. So, I have a question for you, gentlemen: who, or what, was Ivo Shandor? L (Liam): Sounds like a billionaire. A: And he looks like a nonce! R (Rocz): An early 20th century architect. A: You’re both right, and so am I. He was also a quack doctor, a selenium mining magnate, a cult leader, and the last person ever documented to be ripped in half by an ancient Sumerian deity — after he resurrected himself in Summerville, Oklahoma, in 2021. L: Boss. R: I’ve been to Summerville. They have that temple he built at the bottom of a mine… Well, I mean, they did. Right up until he resurrected himself. You gotta watch out for that, with selenium. We used to use it in our electronics, but silicon’s better for that, and much less haunted. L: That explains the internet. R: I mean, we’re not using it for the internet. Mainly in glassmaking, and surge protectors. It’s all right in trace amounts, but you get enough selenium in one place and the ghosts start crawling out of the damn walls. You gotta put up at least a double-thick cold iron insulator, or some carbonated steel. Fucking expensive. Not worth it, unless you’re a big fan of the paranormal. A: Just so. In fact, next slide, please… [Slide: A collage of various art deco buildings.] A: …the paranormal activity associated with Shandor’s designs was so well-documented that by the mid 1950s, everyone who wanted to live or work in one of his buildings was required to sign a waiver, before even looking at them. I’ve looked everywhere for one of these waivers, but it seems like the mere association caused them to become hazardous as well. If anyone out there should happen to find one, for God’s sakes, email it to me, and then speak to your nearest mental health professional immediately. L: Take a Zoloft, you’ll be fine. R: Just walk it off. A: According to what I could find, the standard language indemnified the buildings’ owners against any and all instances of madness, brain damage, murder, suicide… You might have to bleep that, Devon… D [text over slide]: NO. FUCK IT. NOT AFTER THE DAY I’VE HAD. A:… mutilation, speaking in tongues, and — specifically! — “cranial liberation of the pineal gland!” [laughing] Whatever the hell that means! L [cackling]: What? R [deadpan]: Nah, I wouldn’t sign that. A: Well, I would, because these buildings fuck! I mean, look at those façades! R: I like these little gargoyles right here. [outlining a pair of gargoyles in red, paying special attention to the horns] With the horns. Technically these things are called grotesques, ‘cause they don’t have a drain pipe, but people just call ‘em gargoyles. That’s where we get the verb “to gargle” too. Not a typical feature of art deco design, but Shandor sure did like ‘em. They’re not really sure whether he had a sense of humor or if he was just nuts. L: Both, I like both. R: Could be both, yeah. A: Well, according to eyewitness testimony… R: Not very reliable. [giving each gargoyle a smiling face, with dots for eyes] A: …those stone statues came to life during the 1984 New York Incident — next slide, please!  [Slide: The Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man, with a caption saying Artist’s Depiction.] A: …and summoned a 100-foot tall marshmallow man who attempted to end all life on Earth as we know it. [crazed laughter, pandemonium] R: Yeah, I don’t know if I buy that. L: Sounds like another Macy’s Thanksgiving balloon snapped its tethers with murder in its heart. R: Yeah, those balloons are famously angry. Ever since they started using helium, it’s like they got minds of their own. All things considered, helium may also be haunted. A: Rows nine through eighteen of the Periodic Table are all fucking haunted. L: A Macy’s Thanksgiving balloon has black eyes, like a doll’s eyes. R: Yeah, I heard Snoopy ate a whole shipload of sailors during World War II. …Says here Sonic the Hedgehog injured a police officer in 1993, that really happened… L: Yes! Sonic says ACAB!

...Please, if you have never encountered WTYP, I promise you, I have not gone mad, that is eerily close to how it really is, and I am thrilled with it. I've written myself into a bit of a corner concerning Ms. Caldwell-Kelly's levitation powers and lasers vs. a possessed train, in that I cannot allow her to destroy the pocket dimension entirely or it will kill all of them, but if I can get over that little hurdle I should be finished soon.

...Okay, I know how that sounds, but look, if you're following because I curate a fun stream of content, I assure you, that is not what I am about. I do not quite have a strategy for fighting the algorithm yet, but it is my intention to share more things in progress so you at least know what I do. I know I SHOULD be getting Erik and Maggie together at the hotel, but I am not in full control of my intellect and I can only do so much with it.

I'll share a bit of Soldier On with only mild spoilers later, too, if that's okay. I'll try to put up at least a piece of something I've made or am making once a day. It's not perfect, but maybe if I send up a few flares someone will notice I'm sinking and send eyeballs. Thank you for your time and patience!

[coopigeoncoo]

The 3-Cs of 3-A, Chapter 4: You Made Faces and Terrorized the Cook

Chapter Links: First, Previous, Next

Pairing: Eventual Bakugou Katsuki x Fem Reader (it's a very long way off though)

Rating: Explicit. 18+

Tags: Mineta Redemption, Fem Reader, AFAB Reader, Sexual Harassment, Abusive Parenting, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Statutory Rape, Dubious Consent, Underage Sex, Underage Drinking, Domestic Violence, Blood and Injury

Tags are subject to change as story develops.

---

Mineta Minoru is a perverted misogynist whose antics should have had him expelled from UA long ago.

But he wasn’t.

And now it’s your job to fix him.

May God have mercy on your soul.

–--

“Well then, I’ll leave myself in your capable hands,” Mineta purred before popping open the top two buttons on his shirt, sending you a coy look from under his lashes. “Mold me into the perfect hero, Pygmalion!  Make me your Galatea!” he screamed as he ripped open his shirt, buttons flying haphazardly through the air and pinging off the walls and floor.  You throw your arms up to cover your eyes, as though blinded by the pale skin of his belly.  

“Why do you always have to make this weird?” you moan forlornly, already bending down to search along the floor for the missing buttons.  

---

Continue Reading below, or follow the link to Ao3!

Chapter 4:

You Made Faces and Terrorized the Cook

In which you meet the best teacher UA has to offer and Mineta becomes disillusioned.

Cobbling together a class schedule that met the graduation requirements of your previous school with the resources UA had to offer had been challenging.  The math course had been an almost seamless transition since Calculus is a universal concept that flummoxed Hero and civilian students in equal measure. And while you had liked your previous math teacher well enough,  Ectoplasm’s word problems that had you calculating how fast a room would fill up with water and drown a hostage were far more captivating to solve than anything your old instructor had come up with.  

But some of your elective classes that didn't have an obvious parallel in UA's course catalog, like Nutrition and Wellness, had required more creative solutions. Which is how you found yourself in the UA kitchens, a crisp white apron cinched around your waist while Lunch Rush stood helplessly by.

"So, you- ah; you're interested in...food?" Lunch Rush stammered nervously, his voice muffled though the tubing of his mask.

"Yes?  I mean, I think so?  I'm not really sure what I want to do when I graduate, but I thought that having some culinary experience would be good.  Everyone's got to eat, you know?"

"Yeah.  Yeah they do.  Have to eat, that is."  

The silence between you was punctuated by the deep droning of industrial vents above the long wall of ovens, pots simmering lowly on nearly every burner beneath them.  Lunch Rush drummed his gloved fingers on a gleaming steel counter before scrubbing the back of his neck uneasily.

"Look, I'm going to level with you.  I'm not good at- at this ," Lunch Rush sighed, gesturing between the two of you.

"Talking?"

"Talking, chatting, people.  I just- I never get it right.  When Nezu told me I had to take on a student I broke out into hives," he bemoaned, starting to scratch at the back of his neck even faster. "Oh no.  I think they're coming back," Lunch Rush wailed as he began frantically clawing at his chest with his free hand.

Eyes wide with horror, you watch as Lunch Rush pressed his back against the side of the counter and slid down onto the floor, hands scratching wildly all over his body as the exhaust ports on his backpack began to rapidly snap open and shut in time with his labored breathing.  

A panic attack. 

Lunch Rush was having a panic attack. 

What do you do- what do you do?  

Distraught, you turn in circles looking for something to help.  You spot crates of crystal clear glasses next to the industrial dishwasher and quickly dart their way.  The glass is still warm enough from the dry cycle that it singes your fingertips, but you ignore the burning sensation and shove your entire hand, cup and all, into the rush of water from a nearby faucet.  

Careful not to spill, you quickly return to Lunch Rush's side and press the cooled glass into his gloved hand.  It's only as you kneel down next to him that you realize your lack of foresight; you had just handed a glass of water to a man who had no visible mouth.  

The absurdity of the situation was enough to pull Lunch Rush out of his panic spiral; his hands stilling as they cradled the overly full cup to his chest.   

“Ah- thank you. F-for this. The water, I mean,” Lunch Rush murmured quietly, staring intensely at the drips of water that slid down the outside of the cup.

“No problem,” you say casually despite your insides actively withering in mortification.  

“I’m just- I’ll just put this down now,” he said, lowering the cup to the ground.  You winced at every drip and splash that hit his jacket or soaked into his gloves.  This was definitely getting a permanent spot in the reel of shameful events that replayed in your head at night.

“Okay. Alright,” Lunch Rush said, peeling himself up off of the ground with a grunt.  He offered you a hand up, which you took; his glove squelched unpleasantly in your hand and released rivulets of tepid water down your forearm.  “L-Let’s get to work.  People have to eat, right?"

"Right!"

It was a fair assessment to say that you'd survived childhood, but you certainly hadn't thrived. Your mother struggled a lot as a young, unwed mother and her long work hours resulted in you becoming a latch-key kid far earlier than was likely appropriate.   One of your earliest memories was of her showing you how to shut off the gas to the stove in case of an earthquake; the large wrench had been too heavy for you to properly hold and it had tumbled from your pudgy hands and left a deep gash in the soft pine floor boards in front of the stove.  She'd covered the mark with a threadbare kitchen mat and begged you not to tell the landlord about it.   

On the rare occasion when she was home, your mother had never been one for the domestic arts; she viewed it as a list of obligations that ate up her limited free time and did her best to rush through them as quickly as possible.  You didn't mind her spot-mopping spills in the kitchen with the wet hand towel after drying the dishes, but it was hard to ignore the deep pangs of longing you felt when your classmates opened their bento at lunchtime;  lunch boxes stuffed to the brim with lovingly shaped omelets and colorful fruit slices while you choked down leftover rice and a packets of soy sauce crackers. 

Home Economics classes filled in a lot of the gaps in your domestic knowledge, so by the time you hit Junior High you were proudly showing off the lunches that you'd personally planned, cooked, and packed for yourself.  By this point, you'd had years of practical kitchen experience under your belt, but that didn't stop you from being positively flummoxed as you stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Lunch Rush, helplessly grasping a potato and paring knife in your hands.  

"I'm…peeling it wrong?" You ask in bewilderment, carefully examining the surface of the potato you had been carefully skinning.  

Lunch Rush hummed in acknowledgment as his hands blurred across the counter, picking up a new potato and placing it down fully peeled in the blink of an eye.

"Yes.  And no?  Mostly no.  You're peeling the potato just fine, but these all need to be Tourne cut: seven sides and shaped like a football."

Sure enough, the towering pile of potatoes on the other side of the counter was filled with precisely tapered potatoes with gently cut facets.  

"And that matters?"

"Oh man, does it!  Some of the students here are, ah- very particular about their French food.  Aoyama has an extremely tender tummy and Monoma is- well, he's Monoma," Lunch Rush explained, his hands still an untraceable blur.

"I see," You lied. 

With a weary sigh, you set aside your failed potato and grabbed a new one.  

Ever since school had come back into session, you and Mineta had been struggling to find a meetup space that wasn't overflowing with students.  After investigating three different rooms on opposite ends of the campus your frustrations were mounting as your precious and finite available group time quickly slipped away.  It was this desperation that spurred on the following proclamation:

“This is ridiculous!  Let’s just go work in my room.”  

Theoretically, you knew that MIneta was training to be a Hero. You'd watched hours of footage of him fighting and training, but those recordings had in no way prepared you for the absolutely insane speeds that Mineta attained as he dashed with you across campus; his hand a vice around your wrist as you floundered along behind him.

“Mineta-,” you huffed, trying to keep up with his breakneck pace “slow…down!”

“Nope!  Can’t slow down!  We’re wasting precious study time!” Mineta said, managing to somehow kick his speed up by another notch and a half.  You stumbled over an uneven paving stone, free arm flailing as you attempt to right yourself.

“You’re…going the…wrong… way!”

Mineta screeched to a halt as he cast a confused glance back towards you.  “You don’t live in the dorms?”

Shaking your head, you manage to finally wheeze out a ‘no’ as you wipe furiously at the river of sweat streaming into your eyes.  

“Then where do you live?”

“No way,” Mineta breathed in reverent disbelief as he takes in the name plate mounted on the front door.  “You live with Midnight?”

“Yep,” you say as you twist your key in the deadbolt and open the door, motioning Mineta inside ahead of you so you can lock up behind you both.  Mineta quickly slipped inside and removed his shoes, making a beeline for the living room and emitting a high-pitched squealing noise as he went.  He’s immediately drawn to the collection of photos crammed onto shelves surrounding the TV.  You could tell he found the pictures of Kayama in the costume from her early career days when he began to sob and hold his clasped hands up above his head in silent prayer. 

Deciding to give him a moment to collect himself, you grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen and drained the glass twice before you fill up a second cup for your guest and plod back into the living room.  Mineta had moved on to examine the other photographs on the shelf, scrutinizing each one before pointing at one photo stuffed into a burnished copper frame.  “Is this you?” He asked.

You pass him the second glass of water and take a quick look at the photograph he’s pointing towards; a souvenir photo from a zoo Kayama had taken you to as a belated birthday gift one year.  You both had your arms thrown around the zoo mascot, a nauseatingly cute red panda wearing a pearl necklace and sunhat.  Kayama looked exhausted in the way that adults always do after spending all day keeping up with a small child; deep bags under her eyes and a ponytail that had given up hours ago.  You hadn't fared much better photogenically with your missing front teeth and prominent chocolate stain on your shirt from the sundae Kayama had bought for you in lieu of an actual lunch.  It was a terribly wonderful picture of you both.

“Are you related to her or something?” Mineta asked, tapping the edge of the frame curiously.

“No. Kayama is a friend of my Mom.  They grew up next door to each other,”  You explained, scanning the collection of frames before pointing out a handful for him to examine: a tiny Kayama pressed cheek-to-cheek with another little girl that had a neon pink bandage plastered across her forehead.  The same girls, older now, wrapped up in puffy coats throwing up peace signs and surrounded by pudgy brown deer.  The two of them standing next to each other in their brand new UA and Seiai uniforms, beaming towards an unknown cameraman.  

Mineta examined your mother’s youthful face, the one she'd lost to worry and adulthood a long time ago.  

“You look just like her.”

You smile through your wince. “So I’ve been told.”

“Wait,” Mineta said, throwing his hand onto the doorknob overtop of yours. 

“What is it?  Is something wrong?” 

Mineta was tense, his entire body stone-still as you stood in front of the doorway to your bedroom.

“This will be the first time I’ve ever been invited into a girl’s room.  We must treat this moment with the proper respect and solemnity it deserves,” Mineta explained seriously before he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and released your hand.  

“Okay,” he said, practically vibrating with excitement as he opened his eyes. “I’m ready.”  

You push the door open with little fanfare, breezing inside and tossing your bag down next to your desk before turning back to Mineta.  Arms wide, you gesture in a sweeping motion around the small space.

“Here it is!” you announce grandly. “My room.”

Mineta slowly stepped into the room on quiet feet, visibly wilting as he took in the empty white walls, the rows of binders on your desk, and the towering stack of unpacked boxes shoved into the corner.  He stumbled over towards your bed, slumping down on top of your lumpy gray comforter and dropping his head into his hands as misery overtook him.

“This isn’t what I imagined a girls’ room to look like at all!  Where’s all the pink?  The lace?  The casually discarded bras?” Mineta whined piteously, glaring at the jars of pencils and highlighters on your bedside table. “This just looks like someone moved into an office supply store!”   

“It didn’t make sense to unpack everything when I’m only going to be here for a few months," you shrug dismissively.  "Seemed like a waste of energy.”

Mineta, suddenly remembering who you lived with, was on his feet and darting out across the hall towards Kayama’s room in an instant. 

“Mineta!  No!  Don’t go in there!” you screech, tearing out of your room with as much speed as you could muster.

“I wouldn’t have to do this if you had a normal girl room!  This is all your fault!” Mineta bellowed as he threw open Kayama’s door and launched himself through the doorway.  Aghast, you watch him stumble over a carelessly discarded thigh-high boot and knock over a stack of gossip magazines.  The scattering magazines displace bottles of nail polish, half-used rolls of wrapping paper, and art history textbooks; sending them all clattering to the ground in a messy heap.  

“Kayama is…kind of a packrat,” you explain while watching a vase full of souvenir keychains teeter precariously on the edge of Kayama's desk.

“I don’t know if my heart can recover from this,” Mineta sobbed, rolling onto his back to stare despondently up at the ceiling.  “Next you’re going to tell me that girls don’t practice kissing during sleepovers.”   

You try to keep your expression blank, but enough truth seeps into your eyes for Mineta to pick up on.  

“No,” Mineta gasped, clenching a hand desperately over his heart.

“I also have some bad news about the lingerie pillow fights.”

“NO!”

[coming-of-age-witch]

oh my god oh my god x2

(starting with the lighter topic)

i loveeee when people talk a lot, like , keeep blah blah-ing I LIKE IT SO MUCH ( i have this very crippling feeling always at the back of my mind that i just text alot or chat alot, so wheenever someone talks to the moon and back ITS SO COMFORTING AND FUN - LIKE YES IM ALL EARS AND KIDNEYS TO HEAR YOU LETS TALK )

we must blah blah more (we will)

(onto the serious topic)

i can only think of what you may feel so deeply when you are reminded by him, like thats a terrible terrible news, he only now exists as a fragmant of your memories. i really think that the concept of missed oppurtunities (and the feeling that you get when you look back at it) really needs to be studied because like , as you said "things could have been so much more different", this line has such depth to it. like no wonder it scares you, you just told me and the feeling scares me too. you can't really say anything to your middle school self can you, like had i been in your place it would be all that same insulting and conspiring against him. ya'll had some atomic bond i swear and the fact that you wish to help him??? thats such a sweeet loving thought, you could've been his comfort person because of the shared experience. i understand what sort of connections you had, very similar characters which you both were aware of but at that moment the way of response was the worst of it. i like nostalgia but all those "it could have been... if...what ifs" are so tragically beautiful, and it gets so much more tragic now that he isn't there, like a hollow warmth. middle schoolers see everything in black and white ( i did too) , the grey shade partnership you guys had was defo different back then, how cool it would be if you guys actually patched up. even i'm thinking similar interests bring people together...not make them taunt each other

(onto the lighter topics again)

you see i used to have really low self esteem, hence whenever i met someone sharing similar interests as me, i'd have questioned myself and compared and shit, but i'm working on it okay ( i cam across this tumblr post that said- everything would be cool if you do it without shame- and that just hits me, i judge myself so critically that i formed mental cage stereotypes against myself ) but like now my perception is changing and now i feel that the person may have more knowledge about the same thing than i have but that doesn't mean i need to feel shameful about it. infact i think i care so much about the intelligence of the other person because its such a damned attractive trait for me

ok that was very irrelevant

(ajskajssksjksajs im so sorry atp im bullshitting)

about the art of deducing personalities ISN'T IT JUST SO INTERESTING??!?! like im not stalking that person or creeping him but like sometimes i watch him and his behaviour and personality is so lit , it charms me. sometimes i'd be just sitting and watch my peers, them doing their thing its fun you know. i can't explain it any better than you do, but its thrilling, to just observe people , like it just makes you feel like you have 2 pairs of extra eyes, and then you start seeing patterend actions. being observant is such a godly special trait , like i can't emphasise it enough, you notice things others casually won't , like thats a nice sherlock holmes inspired trait right there. andd like this is far for being judgy, there's nothing judgemental about it, it just shows how everyone is so themshelves and diffferent from each other, so customized and personalized, like going into completely different shops each of which has totally different yet intruiging craft to offer. so yeah figuring out people is like one nice fun thing to do out of a sudden, sarcastic people have more to offer thou, like their way of action and all

that guy, about whom i told you, like this is the first time we're in the same section in fucking 10yrs of being in the same school (yes) and we're both class toppers of the previous year exam, and when i first met him , to me he was so know-it-all esp in science like ok ik you go to allen, you don't need to bring your ass up at every question asked and while that hasn't changed a bit, nowadays his answers make me laugh, i've observed he sorta stutters while giving his answers , and its cute, less of a know it all now. (ding ding dinggggg) he sits besides me now, because our teachers changed his place, like its been over a month he's sitting next to me, in between his place got changed again but like soon enough sir again placed him next to me, (not exactly the seat next to me, but like a seat behind the seat besides me, and then somehow he ended up sitting in the seat besides me).

the project group inculded my bestfriend too and we gathered in her haus to make the project , and like being there, in casual clothes, without an ounce of discpline i just got better peek into his ways, and bro is sooo shady about rival groups , its hilarious, its like he almost cares as much about other teams as he does about ours, he's very driven in regards of winning but that doesn't stop him from taking digs but like, he's wholesome and so cool

i was about to post this like 45 mins ago but then his call came (brief : in our group there's this fellow who's like a nuisance and they like legpulling him and that guy says the most wtf shit, so he(tall guy) and another fella called me, i didnt pick up at one go ( i wasnt here) and they're like bantering with me for taking the call late, its just so fun to be around him. we're on the same side (we find that fellow a nuisance, the entire group does.) i also again obsered stuffs about him in the call

okay i think i'll stop right here (kill me , the text is too long...)

i thinkni am attracted to people who have such grandiosity in their range of knowledge and just smart in general, such an admirable trait

[just-another-blog-of-fluff]

Just Like You

Hi friends! Normally my author's note goes below the fic info, but this is a very special fic to make a very special announcement 💚

You may have noticed I've been a bit less active lately. There's a specific reason for that... hubby and I are expecting a baby! I've been completely exhausted and often nauseated for weeks, which has made it challenging to get my writing in, because all I've wanted to do is sleep 😂 But everything is going very well, and we're so excited to be starting a family 💚🥰

You may be wondering what that means for future posts from me. I fully intend to continue writing, even after baby comes and our lives get a little crazier. It will just probably not be as frequently as you've gotten used to from me. I'm hoping to get through most of my current prompts before baby comes (since some of them are from six months ago now 😅 sorry for the lengthy wait!)

So, without further ado, please enjoy some purely self-indulgent, domestic Loki fluff. 😊

Word count: 3,300

Pairing: Loki x female reader (established relationship or married, up for interpretation)

Warnings: Pregnant reader/pregnancy TW, a bit of spice but all SFW

It had been one of those days. Those long, never-ending days where you never found a spare moment to sit down and take a deep breath. Where everyone needed something from you, and they all wanted to be your number one priority simultaneously.

Add in the fact that you were twenty weeks pregnant, and it made for one hell of a day at work.

The moment you pulled into your driveway and put the car in park, you breathed a huge sigh of relief. Home. You were finally home. Already, some of the stress began melting away as you trod up the walkway to your front door. Finally, you could stop fretting over taking care of everyone else, and focus on taking care of you and your baby for a change.

As you stepped inside, you were greeted almost immediately by the sight of the dark-haired, handsome demigod who held your heart. You allowed him to wrap you up in the comfort of his embrace, breathing in the scent of him as he pressed his lips to your forehead, your nose, and finally your lips.

"How was your day, love?"

"Exhausting," you sighed, kicking off your shoes and relishing in the cool feeling of the hardwood floor through your socks against your tired feet. "We were down a nurse today, so we were persistently behind schedule from the first hour."

"Well - there's a warm bath drawn for you upstairs. Why don't you go relax? I'll get started on dinner."

You smiled appreciatively. "You're too good to me. Thank you, Loki." With one more kiss, you headed upstairs to wash up before dinner.

It was hard to believe that the pair of you didn't get along when you first met. Your friend Jane Foster had begged you to go on a double date with her so Thor's brother would have a date for the evening. You'd assumed the reason she'd asked was because Loki was seeking a relationship with someone, but he was so aloof and distant with you throughout the entire night, you simply assumed he wasn't interested in you. It wasn't until the two demigods were walking you back to Jane's house that you and Loki actually had a conversation. As it turned out, Thor had coerced Loki into going out with him without providing the full details. He was so intrigued by the concept of a 'blind date' when Jane had recently explained it to him that he decided he wanted to see one. Who better to throw into his little experiment than his little brother?

Once the two of you actually started talking, you realized his stoic personality was just a shield. With his defenses lowered a bit, Loki was actually quite witty and fun to talk to. You agreed to another date in secret, not wanting to admit to Thor or Jane that they'd actually succeeded in setting the two of you up. One date led to two, then to four, and before long you were in an official steady relationship with the God of Mischief.

Being with Loki was an absolute joy. As your feelings for one another blossomed, he gradually began to show you more of his soft side. You felt privileged to get to see the normally surly Prince of Asgard show such tenderness. Not a soul besides you had the fortune of being the subject of such doting affection from this mighty being. His devotion had only grown tenfold since the moment you told him you were carrying his child. It was overwhelming at times, but you wouldn't trade him for the world.

The bath water was exactly the right temperature. You suspected there must be magic at play for it to have stayed so warm for so long. Slowly, you peeled off your scrubs and let them drop to the bathroom floor, glad to be free from the stiff fabric of your work uniform. You caught sight of yourself in the mirror, then. It was still startling to you to see your rounded belly when you looked at your reflection. Your scrubs still hid it fairly well, only because you'd purchased some larger tops to compensate for your expanding abdomen. But stripped down like this, it was plain to see - you were pregnant. You were growing a baby. A miniature human, who one day would look and act just like you and the wonderful (but mischievous) god standing in your kitchen. It was still difficult to wrap your head around.

As wonderful as the water felt on your tired muscles, you couldn’t help but feel a bit restless knowing Loki was downstairs cooking while you were just lying there in your bath water. Knowing very well he’d scold you for not taking your time, you finished cleansing yourself and carefully climbed out of the bath to dry off anyway. You pulled on an old set of pajamas from the top of your clean laundry pile before making your way back to the kitchen to rejoin Loki.

The smell was intoxicating before you’d even reached the doorway. Only weeks ago, this sort of fragrant meal would have made your stomach churn. Now that you were in your second trimester, you felt much less nauseous and, consequently, much hungrier than before. No longer did you have to live on a diet of crackers and ginger ale. You were elated to be able to eat what you liked again, and Loki was simply relieved to see you feeling better.

The lanky, dark-haired god was standing at the stove when you entered, his back toward you as he sautéed something in a skillet over the burner. You knew the vigilant Asgardian wasn’t easily startled, but you were cautious anyway as you approached him from behind and slipped your arms around his waist. A hum of appreciation rumbled in his chest.

“You’re supposed to be relaxing, love.”

“I know. I missed you too much.” You leaned your forehead against his shoulder, squeezing him a bit tighter. He chuckled warmly, turning off the burner and turning around in your arms to face you.

“Perhaps next time I should join you, then?” He wrapped his arms around you to return your embrace, pressing his lips to the top of your head.

“Mm. Maybe you should.”

He growled playfully, hand slipping lower to squeeze playfully at your bottom through your old pajama pants for just a moment before returning to his task of making dinner. “Go on - let me finish cooking before you try to ensnare me with your charm, my little enchantress. Out with you.”

Reluctantly, you left the kitchen to set the dining room table for the two of you, taking a seat and awaiting your meal as you were told. It was only a few more minutes before Loki joined you in the dining room, placing the dinner platter down with a dramatic flourish that made you laugh.

Dinner was as wonderful as you’d expected. While you ate, Loki asked you more about your day at work, and you asked him about what he’d been up to while you were away. Despite your protesting, he refused to allow you to do the dishes after dinner, shooing you off to the bedroom to relax while he took care of them himself. With a half-hearted glare, you dragged your feet as you headed back to your shared bedroom.

The blankets were soft and inviting. You lay down atop the comforter and leaned your head and shoulders back against a couple pillows propped against the headboard, letting your eyes slip closed. You knew you weren’t quite ready to fall asleep yet, but just the feeling of shutting your eyes and letting yourself be still was enough.

It was impossible to say exactly how long you were lying there awaiting your lover's return. A prickling sensation - that inexplicable feeling of someone watching you - was what made you open your eyes. Sure enough, there stood Loki in the doorway. His normally aquamarine-colored eyes darkened as they roamed over your body - a hungry, frenetic adoration etched across his features as he took in the sight of you. You, in your old, frayed pajama bottoms and your fitted cotton T-shirt, with damp hair and not an ounce of makeup on your face. The intensity of his gaze brought a blaze of heat to your cheeks.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" you questioned, fighting back a bashful grin. He merely smiled - that sly, seductive grin of his that still made you weak in the knees even after all this time together.

"My queen," he hummed, voice dripping with reverence. "You are absolutely breathtaking."

"I'm in my pajamas!"

A breathy laugh puffed through his nose as he shook his head, as though appalled by your indifference to your own appearance. "Have you any idea how captivating... how absolutely radiant you look carrying our child?"

Your eyes flitted down to your swollen belly. "But Loki... I'm... round."

With only a few powerful strides, he'd crossed from the doorway to the foot of the bed, leaning forward with his hands pressed against the mattress as he gazed at you. "You are ravishing." He slid his palms forward to rest beside your ankles, climbing up onto the bed on his hands and knees. "Exquisite." Slowly, fervently, he crawled up toward the head of the bed, hovering over your form. "Breathtaking. Positively unparalleled. Shall I go on?"

"Loki..." you whined, the entirety of your face set ablaze by his silver-tongued complements.

"Don't you dare try to disagree with me, darling. It's not up for debate."

"But- mmpf!"

He silenced your protests with his lips against yours, his hand sliding around the back of your neck to tangle his fingers in your still-wet hair while he held his weight up on his other palm. Your eyes fluttered closed as you allowed him to kiss you, falling into the familiar, passionate rhythm of your lips moving against his. Loki had a way of stealing your breath away, and yet simultaneously he breathed life into you with every kiss.

When he at last pulled away from your lips, he pressed his forehead to yours for a moment, eyes closed as he simply breathed in the scent of you. Then, he sat up and shifted to kneel beside you on the bed.

"How are you feeling now, my queen?"

"Much more relaxed, thank you." You smiled appreciatively, shifting to sit up a bit more against the pillows leaned on your headboard.

"Be honest with me, darling. You must be tired."

"Actually... I've felt pretty good the last few weeks. I've got much more energy now." Loki raised his eyebrows, tilting his chin down with a skeptical look that made you laugh. "Alright - my feet are a little sore from standing all day. Are you satisfied that I'm not withholding any of my pregnancy woes from you now?"

"Yes, I am." He shifted further down toward the foot of the bed, his hand clasping around one of your ankles to lift it into his lap.

"No, none of that, Loki - you've taken care of me far more than you need to today-"

"I'll not hear another word. Allow me to dote on the mother of my child."

You opened your mouth to protest, but he silenced you once again as he grasped your foot with his free hand and applied pressure with his thumb along the arch of your foot. A breathy sigh escaped your lips as your muscles relaxed under his tender touch. A self-assured smirk crossed his lips as he watched you melt against the pillows.

"Is this so terrible? Permitting me to care for you so?" he asked teasingly, massaging firm circles along the bottom of your foot. You hummed in response.

"I'll... allow it. This time."

Loki chuckled under his breath as he continued to work the tension out of your sore feet. You let your eyes slip closed, simply enjoying the feeling of his thumbs rubbing your tired soles. A comfortable silence fell between the two of you for a while. Perhaps you even fell asleep for a moment or two, but you couldn't be sure.

"Feeling better now, darling?" His rumbling voice brought you out of your trance. You opened your eyes to meet his, a sleepy smile spreading across your lips.

"Mm. Thank you, Loki."

"My pleasure."

You laughed a little, grinning cheekily at him. "We'll have to have another child after this one - it's nice having you doting on me like this."

"Love - if you want a massage, you simply need to ask for it," he teased, skittering his fingers along your foot in his lap. You squeaked, making to pull your foot away from the mischievous god but failing as his hand tightened around your ankle.

"Oh-ho, no. Don't you even think about it," you chastised, knowing very well you didn't sound the least bit serious as you'd already started giggling. A devilish smirk crossed his features as he began scribbling along the sole of your foot.

"It's been quite some time since I've had such a splendid opportunity fall right into my lap. Literally."

He wasn't wrong. With the first trimester morning sickness and exhaustion, you were hardly in the mood to do much of anything. You adored this playfulness in your relationship - the teasing, the jesting, the occasional tickle fight here and there... it was all such fun. Truthfully, you'd missed it.

"Lohoki you mehenace! I will- n-no, don't you daHARE!" Giggles turned to laughter as he scratched with just two fingers just below the ball of your foot - a trigger spot he'd known of for ages that he loved to use against you.

"What was that, darling? I couldn't understand you, giggling like that."

"LOHOKI!" You sat up with some difficulty, reaching for his hands to still them and attempt to free your foot. His gaze darted up to meet yours, eyes flashing with mischief as he released your ankle and suddenly clambered to kneel over you.

"Laughter is a wonderful stress reliever, you know. I believe you could use more of it." His hands shot out to your sides, gently kneading and wriggling his fingertips up your ribs. A giggly screech burst from your lips, and you flopped back against the pillows while grasping weakly at Loki's wrists in a helpless, half-hearted attempt to push his hands away. "You see? You seem much more relaxed now, love."

"AM NOHOHOT!" You threw your head back and released unbridled laughter as his fingertips dug into the very middle of your ribcage on either side, another weak spot he adored exploiting. "L-AHAH-LOHOKI P-PLEHEASE!"

"I'd nearly forgotten how ticklish you are, darling," he chuckled affectionately, fluttering his fingers down your sides. "What about this? Are you still just as ticklish here?"

"N- OHOKAY, YEHES!" His fingertips danced gently along the curvature of your belly, scratching and skittering across the stretched skin. In truth, it was worse than before you were pregnant - his maddeningly gentle touch had you shaking with ticklish laughter. You grasped at his hands, trying to lace your fingers between his to cease his attack as he expertly evaded your defenses.

And then, you felt it.

A tiny kick, barely a muscle twitch but still undeniable, bubbled inside your belly. You gasped, eyes wide, which immediately prompted Loki's hands to still against your belly and a worried look to shadow his face.

"Did I hurt you? Are you alright?"

"It's the baby!" You smiled excitedly, laying your hands over his and guiding them to the spot you'd felt the movement just below your navel. "Hold still - maybe it'll happen again!"

The pair of you remained motionless, holding your breaths as you waited for another kick. Then, Loki's entire face lit up as another twitch pressed against your belly.

"Did you feel it??"

"I felt it!" A sparkling sheen of joyful tears clouded over his eyes. Your own vision blurred as you observed the pure elation play out on Loki's face. He grasped the hem of your T-shirt, gazing at you hopefully. "May I?"

"Go on," you urged, nodding. He gently slid the hem of your shirt up to your ribs, exposing the skin of your rounded belly. Ducking his head down closer, he began to whisper to the child growing inside you.

"You have made me the happiest being in all the Nine Realms, my love." His voice was heavy, laden with euphoric emotion as he spoke to his child for the first time. "I swear to you that I will care for you more than any father has cared for a child before."

A watery smile tugged at your lips. You squeezed his hand in yours, heart fluttering as he beamed up at you. He looked back to your belly, ducking his head to press the sweetest kiss to your skin.

"I would lay down my life to protect you from harm, my son," he whispered, his lips moving against your belly. You couldn't help but giggle at the vibration of his voice, and it didn't go unnoticed. Flashing you a grin, he began to press gentle, ticklish kisses along the taut skin of your belly.

"Lohohoki, thahat tickles!"

"Mm, does it?" He didn't bother to lift his head, speaking ticklishly against your belly now that he knew. In response, the baby kicked once again, this time a bit more forcefully than before. Loki lifted his head, his eyes filled with joy. "I think the baby likes your laughter as well."

"Noho, he juhust- ahahah Lohoki!!" His fingers began scratching at your sides as he lowered his lips to your belly once again, scattering reverent kisses just below your navel. As unbearably ticklish as the sensation was, you couldn't bring yourself to really push him away. You absolutely adored seeing how infatuated he already had become with your unborn child. The way his eyes sparkled with every tiny kick.

"You know, darling - I agree with your prior suggestion. We should have another child someday. This is quite enjoyable."

"Sahays yohou!"

He tsk'd at you playfully, scratching lightly across the surface of your belly where your laughter pitched up in volume. "I think the baby would agree with me as well."

Loki tormented your belly for a few more moments, finally relenting in his tickle attack and shifting to lie down beside you. His hand found your belly once again, this time resting firmly against the curve of your skin as you released residual giggles. You turned slightly onto your side to face your lover, his hand remaining in place against your skin.

"What are you thinking, Loki?" you whispered gently.

"I suppose... I'm just thinking of how fortunate our child will be to have you for a mother."

Tears blurred your vision as you smiled at him. "He'll be just as lucky to have you as a father."

"I certainly hope so."

You wrapped your arm around his waist, pulling yourself closer to him and resting your forehead against his chest. "I know so. He'll be just as smart and cunning and mischievous as his father."

Loki let out a breathy laugh through his nose. "Are you sure you want a child as mischievous as I was?"

"What fun is life without a bit of mischief?"

He hummed thoughtfully, pressing his lips to your forehead. "Then I hope you're prepared for our little troublemaker. He'll certainly be a handful."

"I have faith in us," you assured, tilting your head back to gaze into his eyes. "We'll take on the challenge together."

"I do love a challenge."

Loki ducked his head to capture your lips with his once again. And this time, you didn't let him pull away until you were breathless and pleasantly dizzy.

Even when the baby started kicking once again.

[anobscurename]

ocean eyes – chris evans

previous part: PART XIV — masterlist

concept: the second night at the hamptons. you finally confess your feelings, but in the only way you know how. the slowest of slow burns. part fifteen of many.

pairing: chris evans x reader

word count: 1,2k

warnings: fluff and angst, maybe tears (i cried)

author's note: this is it. this is the singular scene and song that inspired this entire story. this one is dedicated to @efferuse and billie eilish :)

An unhealthy coping mechanism, that was what it was.

You could acknowledge that, but when you knocked back another shot – unsure of whether it was tequila or vodka anymore – and became a little bit more numb, you knew it was a necessary evil.

It was your newfound secret to loosening up and being more at ease around them, in spite of that little stab of pain in your chest every now and then when you'd spot the tiny – to innocent bystanders – yet utterly monumental – to you – signs of affection between the happy couple. The loving smiles that crinkled the corners of his eyes, the hand holding, the protective cuddle of his arm around her...

You had other people to speak to, and to hold your attention, and it didn't hurt as much. But that night...

You had been known to sing around the house sometimes, and were a little adept at the ukelele. Chris had heard you playing late at night when he'd get home from set, singing softly to Dodger. It always made him smile a little to himself, not that you'd noticed. But you knew he knew about your little hobby, seeing as on more than one occasion he'd seen you playing on the couch and – sometimes – he'd even join you and just listen, Dodger's head on his lap. You hadn't minded then, but you certainly minded now when he brought it up.

"Can we get some music going?" Sebastian groaned, rifling through the cooler box you had all managed to drag outside to the fire pit.

Chris gave you a mischievous smile, and you already knew what was about to be said.

"No. No. Christopher Robert Evans–"

"I know a little someone who–"

"–I swear to God I will–"

"–can play the uke!"

"–castrate you!"

Both of you had been a jumble of trying to talk over one another, you threatening his very possibility for future children and him outing your hidden talent. Or lack thereof. There was a reason you didn't really play for large audiences.

But they hadn't heard you, they had heard only him, and soon enough, everyone was asking – no, begging – for one song, just one song.

Maybe the alcohol had made you compliant enough to say yes, or maybe you knew they'd never let it go – whatever the reason was, you retrieved the ukelele from your room and sat down in front of the firepit once more, completing the seated circle around the soft ember glow. You had brought it with you, because what's a beach house vibe without some uke?

A song to sing... You battled your mind, trying to find one, just a single song to sate the people. Your fingers absentmindedly moved along the chords as you thought and...

One look at Chris, a soft, encouraging smile on his lips, and suddenly the perfect song came to mind. Looking down and away, you cleared your throat, and began to strum.

And then, in the gathered hush of the backyard, fire crackling and ocean waves crashing in the distance, you began to sing:

I've been watching you

For some time

You glanced up, fingers dancing over the strings. You found yourself magnetically drawn to Chris' gaze.

Can't stop staring

At those ocean eyes

He was transfixed, your voice, the music, that look you were giving him. It was like there was no one else in the universe, just you, and him, and that song. He swallowed thickly, his heart heavy and pounding dully in his chest.

Burning cities

And napalm skies

Fifteen flares inside those ocean eyes

You knew it was wrong, to be doing this. But no song was going to capture the emotion you felt, at that very moment. Not like this. This song was too perfect to let pass, unsung. A mirror to your mind.

Your ocean eyes

You finally managed to tear your own eyes away and take a quick glance at everyone else. They were watching, smiling, listening in hushed awe. Feeling like it was better to look down, you continued to play, teasing the melody from taut strings.

No fair

You really know how to make me cry

When you gimme those ocean eyes

You were staring blankly now, and although all eyes were on you, you only really cared about one pair, one pair of ocean blue eyes. But she was there, and she was kind, and beautiful, and she was who he belonged with. She was who he was with.

I'm scared

I've never fallen from quite this high

Falling into your ocean eyes

Those ocean eyes

It was almost magic, some deep impulse to look at him again. You were completely and utterly drawn to him. But he wasn't smiling anymore. He had a new look on his face, one you couldn't quite discern behind a heated gaze. But you had a song to finish, and that look could be puzzled through later.

I've been walking through

A world gone blind

You finally managed to look at her, and she was nodding along, smiling, blissfully unaware of your emotions. Of the meaning behind the words. Of why you had chosen this incredibly relevant song.

Can't stop thinking of your diamond mind

What was that look he was giving you? What did it mean? He seemed deep in thought, as if something was bothering him. His brow was creased, pensive and attentive, eyes flickering over every micro movement you made, piecing together a puzzle that he had never really thought to piece together before. A puzzle that had seemed unfathomable to him. Fuck, did he know? Well, it wasn't like you were being subtle. Not with a song all about falling for someone with ocean eyes, and his were as blue as they come. Oceanic. Ugh, why had you not just kissed him? It would've been less obvious. You hid your growing panic by continuing. Just make it through, and try not to look at him again. Simple...

Careful creature

Made friends with time

He left her lonely with a diamond mind

And those ocean eyes

Easier said than done, your eyes travelled to his, and they met, and suddenly, it was like an understanding was passing between the two of you. You weren't being dramatic. He knew. He knew, and your heart was aching, and it looked like he knew that too. He knew how you had felt. Still felt. And if you let yourself admit it... how you'd probably always feel. But not only that. One quick glance at her, and it was like she knew too. The smile was gone from her lips, and you felt a wave of nausea hit you like a ten ton truck.

The last chorus left your lips shakily, but no less beautifully, and you were quick to silence yourself when it was finally done, setting the uke aside.

Uproarious applause broke the stillness from the other guests, Chris smiling tensely and clapping softly, but she didn't move. Didn't even blink.

But in spite of all that, you couldn't help but remember the way he looked at you. That realization. That little twinkle of something deliciously mysterious and unknown in those ocean eyes.

The tears in your own eyes hadn't registered until now. But, like a dam spilling over from heavy rainfall, tears were streaming, and you couldn't stop them.

"{Your name?}" Chris said softly, leaning forward. He was barely audible over the chatter of the other guests – who, after the conclusion of the song, had gone back to their idle drunken conversations – but you heard him. Concern laced his voice, evident in his eyes, his furrowed brow. "Are you okay?"

You waved him off dismissively, disguising your sniffle with a strained chuckle. "Yeah, just some smoke from the fire got in my eye."

You quickly stood, and used the replacement of your uke in your room as an excuse to exit the sudden tensities of the situation.

From the corner of your eye you saw Chris, worried, begin to rise – to check on you, no doubt – but she shot out a quick hand, lacing her fingers with his. She shook her head ever so slightly, but the intention was clear: don't go to her, stay with me.

Your heart sank with his silhouette as you watched him sit back down beside her, welcoming her into his arms as they looked out to the beach. His choice was clear. As was your rejection.

You shut your door behind you and cursed yourself for being so stupid. In what world was that a good idea? You basically serenaded him. You had finally given yourself away – truly, madly, deadly – and for what?

A mournful sob escaped your lips, one you fought to stifle with your hand to your mouth. Back pressed against the door, you sank to the floor, too weak to keep standing. Too weak to continue the charade.

And just like that, you broke.

You finally broke, because you knew you'd lost him.

Lost him, and his ocean eyes.

[roguerogerss]

A Long Day of Saving Your Ass

(gif isn’t mine, creds to the owner!)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Plot: “Hi darlin! If you’re still taking requests could you do a Bucky x reader where she gets her ass saved from literal death by Bucky during a mission and she refuses to leave his side on the way back or at the tower? And he gives her a back/foot massage to make her nerves calm down aaand they may or may not share a kiss bc they like each other? I hope that makes sense, tysm! 💞” - requested by anon

W/C: 2.3k

Warnings: mentions of fights/blood/kinda ptsd but not really? she’s pretty much just really shaken up and Bucky’s cute and protective as hell about it. also kinda sexual themes towards the end, no smut or anything though it’s all fluff!

(A/N: first of all, thank you so much for all of the love on my last fic, it really really does mean the world and that was just totally insane. okay, so, this request only came in yesterday, but I was so in love with the concept and had this wave of ideas for what I could write, and so here it is! thank you so much for this one, bby! as always, requests are open for any marvel boy you want, plus any of the stranger things boys. i do smut too hehe. any feedback is so welcome and appreciated, it really helps! please like and reblog!)

————

The quinjet was ready to take off, engine on, Steve behind the wheel. But Y/N wasn't there yet. They'd been holding off on leaving, giving her time to get out and the opportunity to do it without help, but Bucky had been antsy since he'd gotten on the vehicle and realised that she wasn't there.

It wasn't exactly a secret that he liked her, in a way that he hadn't really liked anyone in over seventy years. He'd never admitted it to anyone, not even to himself out loud, but you have to have a certain level of intelligence and basic sight to join the Avengers in the first place, and it wasn't hard to figure out.

Y/N was oblivious to it, rolling her eyes whenever Natasha teased her about 'Bucky's little crush', never taking it seriously. If she'd known that they were really serious about it, she wouldn't have hesitated to make a move. She was inherently forward, had no sense of shame whatsoever, it was common knowledge that she would've said something, at the very least.

"Hey, Y/N, where are you right now?" Bucky spoke into the intercoms, earning wide eyed glances from the rest of the team. They knew that she hated being rushed, hated being babied even more, and the fact that Bucky was doing both was probably about to blow up in all of their faces.

There were obvious sounds of struggle on her end as she answered back with a grunt, "South side, got ten guys on my case. Think I can handle it, though."

"We're ready to leave, Y/N." Bucky grunted, leaning forward in his seat and chewing at his lip. He was met back with a crash and a strangled groan from the assassin, making him shoot up and towards the exit of the ship.

"Bucky, where are you going? She'll kill you if you try to help her-" Tony was standing now, too, worried about his teammate, but figuring that she'd find some way out. Bucky shook his head and pressed the button to open the escape hatch.

"She's going to die if I don't help her, Stark. Keep the engine running, we'll be back in a second." And he was gone with that. Steve closed the hatch, radioing to Bucky to 'keep in touch' as he did so.

Bucky pulled his machine gun from the holster on his back, shooting two guards that were stationed at the front entrance of the Hydra base that they'd sneakily infiltrated, managing to only cause a few minor scenes. He was inside and backed against a wall, scoping out his route to the south side of the building, without wasting a second.

His feet pounded on the metal stairs as he made his way down to where they'd been earlier, where he knew that Y/N still was, and he looked around himself cautiously, gears in his arm turning.

He could hear the fight before he could see it, and he could tell from the noises that Y/N wasn't doing so well. A lot of crashing, thuds, groans mostly from her. The sight wasn't exactly easy to look at either, she was covered in blood, slumped against a wall and kicking her legs wildly while one of the agents held a gun to her temple.

Bucky knew that he had to act fast, and so he shot the agent with the gun without giving away his position, and then proceeded to open fire on the rest of them, trusting in the fact that Y/N knew how to dodge a bullet.

When he was sure that the agents were dead, each one of them crumpled in heaps on the floor, he slung his gun back over his shoulder and ran for Y/N, who let out a relieved sigh upon seeing Bucky. "Oh my God, Buck." She whispered. She wasn't sure what she meant by the words, what she wanted to convey in them, but he seemed to pick up just fine as he wrapped his arms around her shaking and compacted body.

"You're okay, I've got you." He rested his head on top of hers for a second, breathing heavy, just allowing himself to enjoy how it felt to have his body draped over hers. "We've gotta go, okay?"

"I can't run." She said assertively, knowing that there was no way that she'd be able to get up and run like hell, like Bucky seemingly wanted her to. He nodded once, gave her an apologetic smile, and then scooped her up into his arms without another word.

She scrambled to grip onto his black jacket, a gasp leaving her mouth as he picked her up from the floor, flesh arm supporting the backs of her knees and the metal one around her shoulders. He chuckled at her reaction, the way that she white-knuckled the leather of his combat jacket. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna drop you."

"How do you expect me to believe that?" She croaked, trying her hardest to be her usual, sardonic self, but failing miserably as she realised just how fast and hard her heart was beating.

"Because I just saved you from at least ten guys who wanted to kill you within a minute, I'm not dropping you." Bucky replied as he ascended the stairs and she buried her face in his chest, the smell of his cologne relaxing her. He allowed a soft smile to cross his face, bringing his metal hand to her head and almost rocking her like an infant or a small child who had a nightmare.

For Tony saying that she hated being 'babied', she seemed to enjoy it when it was coming from Bucky.

They were back at the ship within a few minutes. Steve had taken off, and Bucky had gone to sit in the back of the ship on his own. Or at least, he'd wanted to sit in the back of the ship on his own, but Y/N was so shaken up and had looked at him like she was a lost puppy when he'd tried to leave her alone, and so he smiled and told her to come with him.

Everyone else had looked between themselves, grinning like mad. "He really likes her." Steve commented and Natasha nodded.

"She really likes him, I'm well aware of that fact." She said.

"I've never seen The Winter Soldier so caring. And, was that - sorry if this seems outlandish - a smile? On Bucky Barnes' face? Surely not." Tony pitched in, leaning back in his chair while his friends laughed.

Meanwhile, Y/N was curled up in a chair, chewing at her fingernails and dabbing at her bloody face with a wet cloth that Bruce had given her the second that she'd gotten on the ship. Bucky watched her, his heart breaking at the way that her hands shook as she brought them to her face, at the way that her entire body shook.

"Hey." He placed a tender and soothing hand on her back, rubbing gentle circles there. "It's okay, you're safe now."

She gave him a wobbly smile that didn't quite reach her eyes and placed her hand over his, allowing him to interlock their fingers. "Yeah. Safe now."

————

She still hadn't left his side, apart from briefly so that she could take a shower. He'd offered to come back to her room with her when she'd hovered around the lounge while everyone else had already dispersed, reminding her that no one was going to hurt her.

She was laying on her bed, hair wet and wearing nothing but a big shirt, while Bucky sat awkwardly on the edge of it, twisting the sheets between his fingers. "You don't have to sit there, you know. I have a sofa, or you can sit back."

Bucky shook his head and looked round at her, she was still visibly shaking, eyes darting around to show just how on edge she was. "It's fine, darlin'. M'fine." His voice was more ragged than he'd expected it to be. "I'm just here to make sure that you're okay."

"Well," She held her arms out, "Come here, that'd make me feel okay." It was a bold move, one that told of her feelings towards Bucky, but she didn't mind much, figuring that he probably wouldn't decline her.

He chuckled, shaking his head at her, but still, kicked his boots off and lay down next to her, allowing her to wrap her arms tightly around his torso and press her cheek over his heart. "Hey, you're okay, sweetheart." He stroked her hair. "There's nothing to be on edge about, yeah? I've got you."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know. Sorry, I don't know why I'm so freaked out." Her breathing was picking back up again, so Bucky shushed her and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, something that drove the butterflies in her stomach wild.

"It's okay, baby." The nickname just added to the way that her stomach fluttered, and she swallowed hard to try to forget about it. "Hey, how about I do something that'll relax you, yeah?"

"And what would that be, Barnes?" She smirked mischievously and he laughed at her.

"Lay on your stomach." He removed his arm from around her shoulders, and she looked at him with one eyebrow raised, obviously thinking that he was implying something way more forward than what he was actually implying. "Woah, no, no, no. I give good back massages, metal arm and all."

She laughed, throwing her head back into the pillows at the headboard of her bed. "Oh my God, Bucky. I hate you so much." She breathed out, flipping over so that she was laying on her stomach, back exposed to him.

"Can I pull your shirt up, or?" Bucky whispered, running his hands up and down the back of her t-shirt, and she nodded.

His breath hitched in his throat and he found himself struggling to think straight when he lifted the hem of her large shirt, to show that she was only wearing a pair of black panties underneath. She didn't seem to mind, so he didn't mention it, even though his breathing was hindered as he trailed his hands from the small of her back to her shoulders, thumbs rubbing circles as he did so.

She sighed and could've sworn that her eyes rolled back into her head as she relaxed into his touch, one hand cold and the other warm. She understood what he meant when he said that he was good at giving back massages.

"Feel okay?" He asked softly, swallowing hard. She nodded again.

"My God, Bucky, feels fucking amazing." She moaned, and he hated himself when his stomach flipped upon hearing her. "You're so good at that."

He had to stop when she said that, hands still on her shoulders but unmoving, just sitting still. He couldn't think about anything else other than sex when she was moaning like that, something that he wanted to punch himself for. It was such a tender moment, she was scared and so vulnerable, and all that was going through his brain were those thoughts.

"You okay?" She asked, and when he didn't answer she flipped back over, sitting in front of him. He looked like he'd seen a ghost as his tongue darted out to lick over his bottom lip. She reached a hand out, caressing his cheek gently to bring him back to reality. "Bucky?"

"Can I kiss you?" The words were leaving his mouth before he even knew what to do with them, what they meant and how she'd react. As soon as he realised what he'd said, he had his face in his hands, shaking his head. "Shit, sorry."

"No. No, Bucky, don't apologise. Look at me." She wrapped her fingers around his wrist, prying his hands away from his face. "Yes. Of course you can kiss me."

He furrowed his eyebrows, wondering if what she'd just said was real. She was looking into his eyes so intently, staring at the light blue rings around his pupils, realising how pretty they really were now that she was this close. "Kiss me." She whispered, and Bucky took no hesitation in complying to what she was asking of him.

His lips were on hers, and they were so gentle and soft, gliding against hers effortlessly. He pulled her closer to him with a hand on her back, the other cupping her cheek lovingly. His tongue had soon slipped between her lips, earning a soft little whine from her, as his tongue met hers and they worked out how to move them together in harmony.

She eventually pulled back, breathless, and simply grinned at him before laying back and pulling him with her. They resumed their earlier position, her arms wrapped firmly around his waist, his arm around her shoulders, her head on his chest while his hand stroked her hair. "Relaxed?" He laughed and she smiled and nodded.

"I'll get goin', it's late and you look tired, princess." Another nickname, another flourish from the butterflies in the pit of her stomach. Just as Bucky was getting up to leave, she grabbed onto his shirt and pulled him back to her, snuggling back up to his chest.

"Stay. Please."

[radiorenjun]

I Don't Need It. i

• Pairing: Na Jaemin x Reader

• Genre: Angst, Comedy, Fluff

• Na Jaemin despised the idea of soulmates, he wanted to fight against fate for choosing his soulmate for him. Even if it means his stubborn childhood best friend wouldn't stop trying to make him accept about the similar tattoos on their wrists.

• Masterlist here!

• Chapters: i, ii

"Hey Jaemin?" you said, not looking up from your bucket filled with sand. "Yeah?" your friend replied, sitting down infront of you, sand moving everywhere from the impact. You flipped the bucket over, tapping it with your palms and the end of the plastic shovel.

"Do you think my soulmate is just gonna be like Daddy?" you asked, creating sand walls with your palm as Jaemin set up mini towers beside the bucket with his little cup. "Soulmate? Gross," his face scrunched up in disgust, sticking his tongue out which caused you to giggle.

"You're gonna have one, too, dummy!" your hands grabbed one of your stuffed animals and throwing it at him. "Yeah, but I don't wanna." he pouted, grabbing the shovel beside you to fill another bucket with the sand around you, putting your stuffed animal aside.

"Why not?"

"Cause it's stupid."

"It's not stupid!"

You look up at him with a pout, looking at Jaemin who's eyes was filled with anger. "Why?" you asked, pulling your bucket to reveal a perfectly made sand castle. "It's stupid how we can't choose our soulmates." he whined.

"Why?" you asked again, in the same calm tone as you decorated your sandcastle with tiny figurines of your latest favorite cartoon. "I want to choose myself." he ran his hand through the sand, picking a pile up with his palm before letting it pour out in between his fingers.

"I want to choose my soulmate." he stated after a sigh, looking at you with his lips sucked in between his teeth as you gave him a sweet understanding smile. "Dont you, Y/n?" he asked, making you look up at him with a small questioning hum.

"Don't you wanna choose your soulmate, too?" he asked. "Me?" you asked, pointing a finger at yourself, making him nod. You grabbed your tigger plushie and hugged it to yourself, "I want to. So bad. Mommy says soulmates are the ones that make you happy, and would protect you when Mommy and Daddy aren't around. And would always be with you forever and ever," you gushed.

You paused as you hugged your plushie tight, "I would do anything to meet my soulmate." you sighed dreamily. "I think Tigger might be your soulmate," Jaemin teased. "I wish." you stuck your tongue and blew a raspberry teasingly at him, making him laugh.

"But Mommy says Tigger can't have a tattoo when he's 16 years old." you whined, looking at your plushie with your lips pursed. "See! This is why I don't want a soulmate." Jaemin huffed, raising his arms out at you before crossing them against his chest dramatically.

"I thought you said you want to choose your soulmate," you smiled, nuzzling your head against Tigger. Jaemin frowned, kicking some sand off the soles of his shoes, "That too." he grumbled under his breath.

"Even if your soulmate was me?" you asked teasingly, poking your cheek with your hand to act cute. The boy let out a giggle, throwing your plushie that was previously thrown at him to you. "Especially you!"

His words made you frown, your bottom lip sticking out. "Meanie! Na Jaemin is a meanie!" you whined before looking at your Tigger plush. "Tigger, Jaemin is a big meanie. He's not my soulmate. My soulmate would make me happy, not be mean to me." You announced dramatically as Jaemin stuck his tongue out with a teasing smile.

"For now, you're my soulmate, Tigger! Tigger makes me happy all the time!" you grinned widely as Jaemin laughed. "Tigger can't be your soulmate, y/n!!" he laughed, clutching his stomach at your weird antics.

"Yes he can! And he's a better soulmate than you'll ever be, Jaemin! Soulmates make each other happy all the time, not be mean to them!" you turned your head away from Jaemin dramatically, making Jaemin snort.

You were six years old when you found out Jaemin didn't want a soulmate. At least, a soulmate that was chosen for him. You didn't think he was serious, thinking it was merely just a phase that he would eventually get over and accept reality.

You were thirteen years old when you're beginning to think otherwise.

"Jaemin!!" you exclaimed, running up to him and hopping as you lay your hands on his shoulders, startling the boy. "How's my favorite bestfriend?" you grinned, tilting your head as you watch Jaemin chuckle softly at you.

"Im your only bestfriend, loser." he stated casually causing your smile to drop. "Damn, do you always have to ruin my mood? That is no way to speak to your precious best friend." you tutted, waving your index finger at him, making the boy giggle as he rolled his eyes.

"It's my job as a bestfriend to turn your life upside-down right?" he grinned as he shut his locker, walking by your side to your class. "Yeah, you're definitely not my soulmate." you stated in a monotone voice, your lips pursed dramatically.

"Could you stop talking bout soulmates for just a second?" he groaned loudly, tilting his head back in frustration. You grinned, "right, I forgot your sister found hers already. Must suck to hear how everyone in your family isn't single no more." you teased.

"Oh shut up, you're single too. Idiot." he sassed, gently flicking your forehead which caused you to let out a small yelp. "Yeah, yeah, yeah." you pouted, rubbing the slightly sore spot on your forehead as you continued to walk down the crowded halls.

"You still on that 'I'll reject my soulmate when I meet them' phase?" you mumbled, "this phase feels like its gonna last a whole lifetime, God." you continued as Jaemin let out an exasperated sigh. "It's not a phase, Y/n." he stated.

You raised your brow questioningly at your best friend, "you sure you won't change your mind?" you asked. You saw him nod without meeting your eyes, determined to keep his word. "Alright, dang, I feel bad whoever gets to be your soulmate." you chuckled.

"You're still love struck bout finding them? You got three years left til you actually get your tattoo. What's the rush?" he grinned after a moment of silence. You raise your eyebrows, "there's no rush. I just." you sighed, looking down at your two feet, your shoelaces both tied to a tight knot.

"I really really want to meet them." you sucked in your lips, hearing Jaemin let out a chuckle. "No kidding, y/n." he joked which made you glare at him. "I'm serious." you said, looking into his eyes with full seriousness to prove to him that you're actually that hyped up.

"I really really want to meet them. " you spoke. "My parents always show so much love for each other and they just make the concept seem so exciting. My mom says meeting your soulmate makes you feel whole and you can't stop yourself from smiling when you're around them." you explained.

"It's something you don't understand." you grinned, booping his nose which caused him to let out a small laugh. "Yeah, because I'm mostly sick of seeing my folks being all lovey dovey infront of me. Now I have my sister doing it," he scrunches his face in disgust.

"No matter, soulmates make each other happy. I'm sure mine is no different." you rolled your eyes, "your soulmate would just spend the rest of their lives being rejected by your stubborn ass," you nudged his side, making him smile. "Oh shut up," he laughed.

"Have you done your homework, mister?" you raised your brow teasingly. His face contorted from disgust to shock, his eyes widening. "We have homework?"

On your sixteenth birthday, you couldn't be more excited. They say the moment you blow your candles, it will start to appear. Jaemin got his on his birthday since he was older, his frown evident everytime he looks at his wrist.

He would cover his mark up with a bracelet or a watch so he wouldn't have to look at it every moment of his life. 'He's still going strong with his distaste for soulmates, huh?' you thought as you stared at yourself at the mirror, preparing for your big day.

The people you love around you, your parents putting down your cake infront of you with candles in the shape of numbers brightly lit. Everyone clapping and singing a happy birthday song before ending it with you blowing your candles.

You felt the skin on your wrist fidget, looking down at your left wrist everyone came closer to see your tattoo. Ink began to appear on your skin, forming a familiar small red heart balloon flying in between two clouds, awing everyone in the room.

Your jaw dropped as your eyes widened at the mark. The ink had stopped appearing, leaving your wrist with a small odd feeling. Like a thin layered sticker sticking to your skin. You looked up at the people around you who gave you compliments at your mark.

Everyone was smiling and congratulating you, however, your parents and Jaemin's parents were'nt looking too bright at your mark. Jaemin was unconsciously holding onto his left wrist which was covered by his new watch.

"Dude, your tattoo looks so aesthetically pleasing."

"Your tattoo looks so cute, do you think you found your soulmate already?"

"I hope you find them soon!"

"Man, I can't wait til I'm 16. That shit looked amazing!"

"Wonder who your soulmate is"

Everyone's words blurred in your ears as your eyes subtly went to Jaemin who was talking to his friends in the corner with a drink in his hand. His eyes met yours before giving you a small half hearted smile. It wasn't genuine. You knew what he was going to say after this party was over.

You gazed at the mark on your left wrist, running your thumb over it gently. Your head deep in the clouds, ignoring the people around you.

"Hey." Jaemin mumbled awkwardly after the party ended, leaving your house empty with just you, Jaemin and both of your parents. "Hey," you replied, tugging the sleeves of your hoodie as you didn't know what to say to him.

"So. We're soulmates." he stated as if it wasn't the obvious. Your eyes went to his left wrist, seeing that he had taken his watch off, leaving the skin a bit red from how tight he put on the watch. The similar mark of a red heart balloon in between two clouds evident on his skin.

"I guess." you shrugged, hugging your pillow to your chest tightly, tightening your grip with every passing second. "Listen, I-" Jaemin spoke after a long excruciating moment of silence. He cut himself off with a deep inhale.

"You know how I feel bout soulmates more than anyone. And it still hasn't change. You know I don't want a soulmate, at least one that's chosen for me." he bit his lip nervously, eyes not meeting yours. You couldn't lie, it felt like a strong punch to your gut. "But, like," Jaemin scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, unsure of what to say. "I don't want to lose you, my best friend, because of this silly stupid mark."

You furrowed your brows. 'He's your soulmate. You're fated to be together. He'll accept the fact soon, right? He just needs a little convincing.' you bit your lip. You were stubborn and you know it. You're gonna change his mind even if it's the last thing you do.

"So, can we just put this behind us-" Jaemin spoke softly before you cut him off. "No," you said in a bold tone, making him look at you wide confused eyes, brows furrowed. "What?" he mumbled.

You look up at him with determined eyes and a bright smile. "I know this isn't going to be easy but I'm going to do whatever it takes to convince you that deep down I know you feel something for me. Why? Cause we're soul mates and sooner or later you're going to accept that!" you huffed dramatically.

Jaemin started at you in disbelief, "don't try to talk me out of this. I'm just as stubborn as you are! I'm not stopping til you accept me as your soulmate," you put your hands on your hips, standing up to push him out of the room. "Wait what, Y/n-" he started as he stumbled to the exit of your room.

"Now get out, starting tomorrow I'm going to convince you. Therefore, I'll be needing tons and tons of rest. Just you wait, Na Jaemin. L/N Y/N is going to work hard for this!" you stuck your tongue out before slamming the door shut. You heard him sigh from the other side of the door before walking away half a minute later.

You leaned your back against the door in exhaustion, sliding down to sit down on the floor. Your smile turning to a quick frown as you ran a hand through your hair in frustration. This is going to be tough.

[benedictshurley]

Positive : Part 13

So, it’s been almost two years since I updated this story and I finally have another part for everyone! I’ll link the masterlist in case you guys want to reread! I don’t know if i’ll continue past this part for awhile, I might release a summary of how I planned it to end when I first came up with this concept. Masterlist here

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

Pairing: Rob Benedict x Reader  

Word Count: 2,188

Warnings: non explicit smut, fluff, angst, time jump 

Disclaimer: this is pure FICTION. I mean no harm or hurt to the Benedict family, or others involved. Marnie is Rob’s fictional wife from Kings of Con. I originally used Mollie (his real wife) but ultimately decided to change it as it made me uncomfortable writing about her and his kids.

(Gif Below is mine.)

Previously on Positive

“Yes Rob. I am completely and utterly in love with you. I’ve been trying to hide it but I can’t anymore. And I just hope that deep down, you still love me too.” Your voice matched your face. Hopeful. “Please say you still love me and I’m not too late.”

Rob was still silent. It took him a moment before he opened his mouth. “I.”

Taking his silence as a no, you flushed red and tried to head toward the door. “This was stupid i should’ve known i was too late-”

You were stopped by Rob grabbing your wrist.

“Yes. God yes. I still love you.” Rob gripped your face in his hands before pressing his lips against yours.

Moving in sync, the two of you kissed passionately, your fingers tangling in rob’s hair. 

“I love you so much. Fuck.” You spoke against his lips. 

The kiss was messy and teeth bumped each other but you didn’t care. All you wanted was Rob.

Rob pulled away for a moment. “Fuck wait, As much as I want to do this..you’re with Stephen. I can’t do this to him.”

You cupped Rob’s face. “We broke up. He tried making me choose between you and him..and I chose you.”

Rob’s grin returned as he kissed you once more, his fingers gripping the back of your shirt.

“Clothes..off.” You mumbled, fumbling with his t-shirt. 

Rob complied and helped you with his shirt, before he moved to yours and lifted it over your head before connecting your lips with his own once more. 

As the minutes passed, the clothes piled up on the floor and you two made it to the bed. Rob’s hands went up and down your body, a moan leaving your lips. 

“Rob..I love you so much.” You cupped his cheek.

“I love you too.” Rob kissed your neck as he spread your legs, and sheathed himself inside of you.

The next hour was filled with breathy moans and skin slapping against skin, and your nails dragging down Rob’s back, marking him up.

“You look so beautiful pregnant. That's our baby.” Rob breathed out, kissing your neck softly

“Ours. No one else's. Fuck right there.” You moaned, arching your back off the bed. 

Soon, you and Rob reached your climax, nearly simultaneously. As he pulled out of you, you relaxed into the bed, breathing heavily.

“That’s even better, completely sober.”  You laughed quietly.

Rob chuckled as well, laying next to you and covering your lower halves with the sheet. 

“I agree.” He smiled and turned to face you, pushing some hair away from your face. 

The next morning, you awoke in Rob’s arms, a smile on your face. As he slept, you got up and cleaned up in the bathroom, finding robs discarded t shirt and your underwear to feel less exposed. You climbed on his lap, and kissed his face softly to wake him up. 

As he stirred, you grinned and ran your fingers through his hair. “Morning sleepyhead.”

He put his hands on your hips and blinked awake. “Morning to you too. Nice shirt.” He chuckled.

“Thanks, I think I pull it off.” You laughed, kissing him softly.

He kissed back for a moment before sitting up with you in his lap. “Good to know last night wasn’t a dream.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and played with the hairs at the nape of it. “It definitely wasn’t.”

Rob’s hands moved from your hips to your stomach, rubbing over the bump slowly. “I love you both so much.”

“We love you too.” You kissed him again, and he kissed back, turning you over so you were on your back and he was on top of you.

Both of you were too engrossed in each other to heard Rob’s door open. Only when you heard Rich shout “Woah Bobbo!” did Rob remove his hand from your breast and quickly cover you with his body. 

“Rich learn to knock!” Rob groaned, covering your lower half with the sheet. 

“Sorry didn’t know you had company..especially not Y/N. Glad to see you two made up.” Richard set Rob’s coffee on the small desk in the room. “I’ll see you two downstairs for checkout.” 

As soon as he left, you burst into giggles. “Well..guess I should go pack and get ready for the flight.” 

Two Months Later, January 2019, 32 Weeks

After that night in Minnesota, you and Rob became official. You spent Christmas together, and you even got to meet Rob’s son Tyler and thankfully, he liked you. Marnie and Rob were moving through with divorce proceedings and switched off each week on Tyler. Now you were currently in Missouri, meeting Rob’s close family for the first time. That includes his mom, two sisters, and Matt. At least you’ve met Matt before. You were nervous and it showed on your face as you two pulled into Rob’s family home. You had opted to drive as you were over the recommended stage of flying for your pregnancy.

“Babe, you need to relax. They’re not gonna skin you alive or something.” Rob put his hand on your thigh, squeezing it lovingly. 

“I’m just nervous. What if your mom hates me? I broke up your marriage and we’re having a baby out of wedlock and I know how people can be about that even in 2019 but-” You began to ramble 

Rob put his free hand over your mouth and sighed. “Y/N you’re rambling. They’re going to love you. And our daughter. They weren’t the biggest fans of Marnie anyways. Okay?”

You relaxed a little and nodded as you both got out of the car, Rob forbidding you from carrying any of your bags or presents into the house. 

“Robert, I'm pregnant, not invalid.” You crossed your arms. 

“You only have 8 weeks left until your due date. Not risking you going into early labor in Missouri.” Rob hauled your things up to the door and opened it without knocking. “The R Benedicts have arrived!”

You blushed when he included you in the Benedicts. You guess it made sense, considering you were carrying a Benedict. Matt soon came to help Rob and gave you a quick hug and you were whisked away by the Benedict girls to go in the kitchen with their mother. 

Almost immediately they sat you down at the table while Vivian was washing dishes. 

“So..” Amy asked, curiously. “How are you feeling? 8 weeks left? Any cold feet? Wanting to ditch my brother and have the baby in Uruguay?”

You opened your mouth to reply but Nancy cut in. “No other secret baby daddies?”

Slightly offended, you cleared your throat. “I’m feeling fine, no I’m not going to ditch your brother and have the baby in Uruguay, and no I’m not cheating on Rob either.” You said with a fake smile. 

“Oh girls leave her alone!” Vivian turned off the sink. “If Robbie likes her then we should too. And she's carrying your niece. My granddaughter.” 

They groaned but apologized, and soon went off to tend to their own children in the backyard. Vivian sat down next to you and grabbed your hand.

“Are you feeling okay dear? Any signs of labor? How was the drive?”  She asked, genuinely caring.

“I’m feeling good, only Braxton hicks contractions so far. The drive...was okay. Would’ve been here a few hours ago but my legs kept cramping and I kept having to pee. I think I annoyed Rob a bit though.” You chuckled nervously. “Oh! We have ultrasounds for you.” you grabbed your bag and dug them out. “She looks like her father.”

Vivian looked at them with admiration. “Oh she does. Robbie had that same nose when he was born.” 

Rob came up behind you and rubbed your shoulders. “See I told you. She looks like me.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I know she does. Carry her for almost 10 months of my life and she’s gonna look like him.”

Later that night, you were exchanging Christmas gifts with his family. You got plenty for the baby, and Rob got a decent amount for himself, and they gave him Tyler’s presents because it was Marnie's week and she wouldn’t budge. Vivian even got you a beautiful maternity sweater. 

It was about 7 P.M when you heard the doorbell, as you were cleaning up from dessert with Amy and Matt. You shrugged it off and continued cleaning until you heard Rob ask someone what they were doing here. 

You wiped your hands and went out toward Rob before freezing in your steps. Marnie was here, Tyler already being inside and with his grandma. 

“Marnie why are you here? You weren’t invited.” Rob spat, looking back at you with apologetic eyes.

“I’m always invited to the Benedict January Christmas!  Plus I have wonderful news!” She forced her way inside and a majority of the Benedicts glared at her. 

You crossed your arms. “Marnie you aren’t a benedict anymore.”

Marnie looked over at you and sneered. “Neither are you, homewrecker.”

Rob quickly got in the middle, protecting you behind him. “Okay that’s enough. Tyler can stay but you need to leave Marnie. I don’t know what you’re trying to pull but it's not going to work.” 

“But Rob, we can’t get divorced now. I came to tell you that.” Marnie had a grin on her face, it was a bit too wide for your liking. 

Rob was confused. “Why not? I haven’t heard anything from my lawyer.”

You were starting to get nervous now, and you felt a little dizzy. 

“They can’t divorce us, because I’m 10 weeks pregnant! And it’s a Benedict.” Marnie smiled and pulled her coat open, showing a little bump.

You don’t remember what happened after, because you fainted, your heart pounding in your ears. 

When you woke up, you were on Rob’s childhood bed with a warm cloth on your head and Rob pacing the room. When he noticed you were awake, he quickly sat next to you.

“Are you okay? Do you feel okay? We checked the doppler while you were passed out, the heartbeat is still strong so everything’s fine with her but-” Rob rambled.

“Rob stop..I’m fine. Just, how can that baby be yours? You guys split up before you could’ve possibly conceived that baby.” Your head was pounding as your once perfect world was crumbling beneath your feet. 

Rob put his head in his hands. “A few days after the album release, I went to get my things, and she was there..I was so mad and she kept coming onto me..I regretted it immediately after it happened.”

You felt bile begin to rise in your throat. “Have you seen her since then?”

“No! Baby no of course not. I have not and will not cheat on you. Do you understand me?” Rob cupped your face but you slowly pulled them off.

“Rob, you shouldn’t have kept that from me. When we started this relationship we agreed to be open and honest with each other because of our past. This isn’t being open and honest!” You raised your voice a little.

“It was before we got together! I didn’t think it mattered!” He yelled back.

“Well it does! She’s pregnant with your baby! I don’t know how to handle this!” You stood when rob did.

“It was a MISTAKE. I thought she was still on birth control!” Rob yelled.

“Every time we’re happy it gets fucked up because of her! I can’t deal with this! Not so close to my due date!” you paced back and forth.

“You can’t just blame her! It takes two to tango. You of all people should know that.” Rob shouted.

“What the hell does that mean?!” You screamed back

“Because the same thing happened to us! I just didn’t think i’d be stupid enough to make the same mistake twice!” Rob spat.

You whimpered softly. “So she’s a mistake now?” 

Robs eyes softened as he saw the tears in your eyes. “Baby no I didn’t-”

“I’m a mistake too? You promised me I wasn’t! You told me you didn’t regret it!” You began to shove your phone and keys into your purse and pulled your coat on. 

“Y/N why are you getting that stuff on? I promise you I didn’t regret it! Baby” Rob tried to stop you from leaving the room but you pushed past him and went down the stairs where Marnie was sitting on the couch with a smug smile on her lips.

You opened the front door and slammed it behind you, grabbing the keys from your bag and getting in the car. 

Rob tried to get in, begging you not to leave. You hadn’t been to Missouri before. He didn’t want you getting lost. 

“Go away! I-i need a break!” You wiped your tears away quickly and drove out of his driveway, leaving Rob, who was a mess of tears, behind.

You didn’t know where you were going to go, but you needed to get away from him. Away from it all.

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Thanks for reading!

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[yourlocalslasher]

Hello my dude! :D i was wondering if you take requests? If no, you can just ignore what i'm going to write...BUT IF YAS! Could you write something with Bo and a s/o who came from the real world? I mean i was wondering "what if, i don't know how, i ended up in Ambrose one day? Like in the movie?". So i was thinking of a scenario in which the reader ended up in Ambrose and was like "hey i know this place" and when they realise where they are (and how fucked they are) BOOM! Here comes Bo!

I- I actually really like this concept. THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS IJUHYGFGH- And I might leave it on a cliffhanger, y’never know.💀💀

You clicked the TV off, taking a sip of the rest of your soda. “Not a bad one.” Standing, you took the movie out of the TV, slipping it back into its case. House of Wax was rumored to be a shitty movie, but you enjoyed it nonetheless.

It had an interesting storyline. I mean, what better way to hide bodies than to cover them in hot wax to pass them off as art? Two psychopathic brothers who live in a deserted town...then the big reveal of the third brother. It wasn’t as bad as everyone claimed it to be.

You decided to turn in for the night, flipping off the lights as you climbed into bed. It was difficult to think of anything else but the movie. Wouldn’t it be awesome if you could just,...spend one day in Ambrose? Meet the characters? A horror fanatics dream.

Eventually, you drifted off to sleep, the clock reading 12:04 am.

Timeskip to a week later

Driving. You’d been driving for hours. How far away was your grandparent's house anyway? You knew you were at least close to Texas, which was a relief.

You pulled over to stretch your legs. “Goddamn” Twisting and stretching, you heard your back crack a few times. The hot metal of the car burned your arms, but you rested them there anyway.

The exhaust from the truck was starting to make you sick. You turned away, staring down a dirt path that turned a corner. Why not stop? You snatched your backpack out the window of the car, throwing it on your back.

You’d brought some snacks with you, a few drinks, and an extra pair of clothes.

Walking down the short path, you saw the faint outline of a town. Thank god. Didn’t seem too far away. You headed off, the air dusty and stale.

As you neared the buildings, you felt a strange feeling of nostalgia. Like, listening to an 80′s song then coming back years later to jam out to it. You pulled out your phone, snapping pictures of anything you found interesting.

It was like a vintage town, frozen in time. But..the strange thing was...there didn’t seem to be any people? Deserted. Abandoned. The more you walked, the more you felt like you had lived here your whole life.

“Freaky..” You snapped a picture of an old diner, a weathered burger sign dangling by a thread above the door. More stores lined up the cracked road, all empty and lacking color.

You turned right, stopping dead in your tracks. A gas station. An...oddly familiar gas station. That's when it hit you.

“H-holy fuck-” Your phone was out of your pocket quicker than you could say horror movie. Snapping tons of pictures, you ran up to the gas station, excited as hell.

“Ambrose...” You read various signs on the glass windows of the station. “I-” It was impossible to contain your excitement. “I’m in fucking Ambrose?!”

Eagerly opening the glass door, you stepped inside. Dead silent. You couldn’t keep your hands off anything. You ran your fingers across everything. Taking as many pictures as you could per second, you giggled happily to yourself.

This HAD to be a movie set. As awesome as it was, there's no way it was real. Horror movies aren’t real. But that didn’t change the fact that you were overjoyed to be here.

You rushed through a second doorway, walking down a small flight of stairs. The air got cold, the smell of gasoline burning your nose. Ever so slightly, you opened a door to your right. You peered in.

There was a heap of dirty laundry by an unkempt bed, a few polaroid images hanging above it. There was a lamp on a desk, a TV behind it. Looking further into the room, you saw a metal chair with a metal worktable behind it.

They really did leave the whole set here...

You opened it more, stepping in to explore further. A huge grin plastered to your face, you poked and prodded at the various tools on the metal table. There was a fairly large cooler behind it, and you opened it for fun.

Your jaw dropped. “What the f-” You stumbled back, grasping the chair beside you. A body. It looked fresh too. Its eyes were lightly glazed over with a milky white. Blood dripping off its cheek, quickly hardened in the cold atmosphere.

This could not be some old movie prop. Props don’t bleed. You gathered your strength to close the cooler, turning away before you had more time to think about it.

You lifted your hand off the chair, gasping and yelping as you saw you had planted your hand in a fresh pool of blood. “Jesus fuck!” You wiped it off on your clothes, your heart beating loud in your chest.

Glancing over at the worktable, you examined the bloody pliers and knives resting on the edge. You tried putting everything together.

If you were actually in Ambrose...that means there's really a House of Wax. Which means this town is actually a death trap. Which means....oh fuck. If there's killing...then there's a killer.

You muttered under your breath. “Bo and Vincent...the killer brothers..” It was all coming together now. As much as you wanted to stay, meet the legends behind the kills, you knew they would just see you as another victim. Your life wouldn’t be any more special than the other victims. You had to leave.

You bolted up the stairs, trying to go as fast as your legs would take you. But you were soon stopped. A loud thud rang out, your head hitting the ground.

“An’ where do ya think yer goin’, eh?” A deep chuckle followed the rough country accent. Bo. You’d failed. You had become another kill in horror movie history. He stepped closer to you, humming to himself.

“I promise I ain’t gonna hurt ya, I swear.” Bo chuckled again, pressing his boot against your neck. What a hell of a way to die, you thought. The pressure increased, your air soon cut off.

You didn’t even have to look at him to see the smirk he had. You tried fighting it, but the more you did, the more pressure he applied to your neck. Everything around you faded, the only thing your body registered was the soft chuckle that left Bo.

“Sorry sugar, y’should know I ain’t good at keeping my promises.”

[nautilusopus]

I wrote a whole fucking review for Pokemon Shield but google ate it so I'm putting it up here and making it longer.

Pokemon SwSh is bright and shiny, but has many small systemic problems that ultimately pile up into a larger Not Fun whole. I know the easy criticism is to bring up Dexit, which I'm not happy about for a variety of reasons, but I still think they could've made a fun game in spite of that. Instead I'm going to bring up other problems the game has in the hope of having some of the game's other issues actually recognised before fans and critics alike fall into the same trap that I did. Dexit is honestly just the tip of the iceberg.

First, the good:

Trainer customisation has improved, and I'm always a sucker for the little things. Clothes are affordable once more AND come in a variety of designs, something I felt was a problem with Gen 7, and the player character model actually has facial expressions. This makes the world just a bit more fun to interact with when you're no longer a blankly-staring robot child. I often find myself spinning/doing the Leon pose just for fun because it’s nice to watch your character do something quirky and expressive like that, in the same way people are endeared to Wind Waker or BOTW Link more than Twilight Princess or Majora’s Mask Link despite both of them ostensibly being blank slates.

The curry minigame is fun even if I don’t quite understand how fanning works yet (and also another opportunity to see said facial expressions). Just a tad heartbroken I can’t import my team from previous games to play with them in camp. 

Marnie's a neat concept for a rival, and one that I've personally wanted to see in the Pokemon series for a while. I'll avoid speaking about it too much for spoiler reasons, but I think most people will wind up liking her as well.

The game looks nice. Not like, astounding or anything, but the cities and towns have a lot of atmosphere baked into their design.

Lotta bangers in the soundtrack, and the presentation of gym battles as a World Cup-esque deal, complete with hyped up audience, brings a fresh, exciting take to the Pokemon League. I like the way the music changes as the battle progresses, and enjoy the little in-universe details, like the champion walking around with all his sponsors on his uniform. 

WOOLOO

MY BOY TOBY FOX OUT HERE DOING GOD’S WORK, THIS SHIT SLAPS BEST TRACK 10000/10

Now for the bad:

The game feels very small and unfinished. It constantly implies cool things are happening in the background, but you never get to participate yourself, or even see them. The closest you get is your rival showing up with a news article explaining that a fun thing happened and was resolved in the time it took you to walk 100 feet. It makes the main questline feel flat and tedious, and something tells me maybe we were supposed to get to participate in literally anything, but there just wasn't time and they had to get the game out for the holiday season.

This pairs very badly with the second thing, which is that there really isn't very much to do in Pokemon SwSh. Most of what you wind up doing is backtracking. The Wilds are a neat idea in theory, but in execution they're kind of the worst part of the game. They're also, unfortunately, the biggest. It feels like there's really only two areas in the entire game -- the empty cities/towns with nothing really in them, and the giant, open-world-esque Wilds. 

The Wilds themselves are nothing to write home about. Pokemon catching is gated off by level, but all areas of the wilds are available simultaneously. This means if you care about filling out the dex, you'll find yourself constantly walking back and forth between town and the same areas of the Wilds you've already been to, checking things off a list. There's less a sense of exploration, and more just a sense of wandering in circles occasionally checking the weather. And if you DON'T care about the dex, then there's literally no reason for you to constantly return to this gigantic, lovingly-modeled wasteland ever again, making the game feel even smaller as you hop from empty town to empty town, and there’s even less for you to do as a result.

The game is piss-easy, even for a Pokemon title. EXP share is always on because this game shares the same engine as Pokemon Let's Go, meaning you will be disgustingly overlevelled if you make the mistake of exploring the Wilds in between gyms the way I did, and remain that way for the entire game. I found myself throwing the fight against Opal a little bit just to hear all her dialogue. Otherwise you just oneshot everyone and everything, and all the fights start to feel samey very quickly. 

Also, barren postgame. Like 30 minutes tops.

Maybe I’m a fool for expecting writing from a Pokemon game, but after Lillie from Sumo/USUM I went and got my hopes up, and Hop absolutely does not deliver. I don’t hate him like some do (Hugh is still absolutely the most annoying rival and no one will ever unseat him), but he just feels like many many missed opportunities. He feels extra redundant given Marnie’s presence on top of that. 

Bad Pokemon designs. This one’s a personal gripe so it’s at the bottom of the list, but I feel like it’s still worth mentioning that I abandoned the shit out of my starter and am left with nothing to replace it with. Greedent is now my new least favourite Pokemon ever. Fuckin FNAF-ass lookin motherfucker.

As sort of a smoking gun exemplifying my point, I have 53 Revives just from wandering around in the Wilds forever. And I have 3 Hyper Potions in my entire bag and no other healing items, because the game has given me no reason to go back into town and buy anything because there’s nothing in the towns, and it’s never required me to heal because there’s really no significant battles to have either, in the story, or ones you would seek out for your own reasons. 

On a personal note, I’m 7 badges into this mess and I still haven’t finalised my team because I can’t even find 6 designs I like that also result in at least a somewhat decent type coverage (or at least flashy variety of colour). To those of you that know me and my True 100% Run, that’s fucking unheard of for me. 

Overall, disappointed. It's not terrible, but given how robust every other mainline title was, this is a big downgrade. Not worth $60. I've played more fleshed-out romhacks. This game reminds me more of Coliseum/XD than Gen 8's big debut. Mostly I just feel bad for the friend that bought me it. 

This would just be kind of a bummer on its own, but coupled with the fact that 1. half the damn Pokemon aren’t in it and Game Freak has openly stated they plan to keep doing this and 2. in spite of that the game still felt unfinished, making you wonder what the hell they spent all their time making (Gigantamax maybe? Why? You can’t even do it in-game for the most part. At least Mega Evolution was readily available. Not to mention it won’t even be available next game. Stop making up gimmicks just to discard them), it makes me seriously concerned for the future of the franchise. 

[svennyart]

James Bucky Barnes X Male!reader - With brave wings he flies

So that's my first story I am going to publish. I hope it's decent and you enjoy it😊

_

Y/N never really knew how to deal with the fact that he had wings. I mean he was one of the weird people you could say. Everyone who was considered normal didn't have stuff like he had. He was proud of the but had learned quickly that he had to hide them. And how he could suppress them, make them vanish with magic. He wasn't sure what he was, if he was an Angel or just a magical being with wings and magic since his wings weren't white, more of a beige or brown. He just didn't know.

His first day at the avengers tower was different tho. Peter was the first one who saw his wings by accident. Protecting him from a car splash back in the dark street as they walked home from the movies. They had been good friends, as soon as Y/N came to his class they befriended themselves right away. His eyes went wide as he saw the immense size of the building and the height of it when he was in the glass elevator. "I bet it's nice out there." He muttered as the thought of having his wings out, feeling the blow of air running through his feathers kind of tickling them. "You will meet the others soon. I thought it was a good idea since you could walk around here free with wings out, I mean just if you want and feel comfortable, because we don't judge and-" peters brabbling was interrupted by the opening of the elevator doors. "Thanks Petey." The taller male chuckled and enjoyed how shy the teen got sometimes. He loved to tease him about it. The opportunity Peter gave him was great tho, finally meeting the avengers, he had a awesome friend in Peter. He slowly started to meet the people here. He met Tony, Natasha and Captain America. The other ones were occupied he heard. He was totally hyped up to see falcon, he had an awesome pair of wings.

The day went over quite quickly, he made lots of friends, especially with Sam. He felt lucky to have met them. "Yo Sam? At least my wings are real!" He teased the men who was showing his wings off, Y/N joined in the contest and showed his beautiful silky wings off. He didn't know that a pair of eyes was attached to him the whole time. Blue eyes were running all over the male, checking him out and landing on his wings. Steve gently pushed his elbow into the brown haired male and smiled. "Talk to him, he's nice." Cap encouraged and hoped that Bucky would take a step. But Bucky was focused on the angelic giggles of the glorious guy Infront of him making fun with Sam. Bucky felt some jealousy crawl up, he didn't want to accept it tho and this concept was new, he wasn't used that he could show open affection to males now. Times changed he had to realise it someday. As the dinner was over and some silly stuff happened everyone made sure to get to their rooms. Y/N got the guestroom and Bucky was assigned to get him there. "You don't talk much or?" The shorter male asked and looked at him. "Your arm is sick btw. I mean in general you're pretty damn cool." He chuckled. Bucky just shrugged. "I mean I am not to much of a good guy. I try to tho." He said with a smile. "Call me James, I totally forgot to tell you my name. How incredibly rude of me." He said. "I'm the one and only Y/N and you're doing good stuff. Anyways care to get out on the roof?" He asked as they passed the stairs. He wanted to feel the air flowing through his wings. The insecure men next to him agreed and led him up to the roof. Amazed by how his wings stretched and his feathers parted and then he just took off. His eyes followed him precisely, taking every muscle flex in, mouth wide agape and big eyes. Y/N saw his chance and landed right Infront of Bucky. Inches away from his face with a big smile plastered over it. "You look pretty from far away but near you're even more handsome." He whispered and looked into the sea colored eyes of his opponent. Bucky didn't know what had made him do this but he just sealed their lips together. Their lips dancing and tongues intervining. Y/Ns hands were placed on the broad and muscular chest while his wings wrapped around them in s protective manner shielding them from anything. Buckys hands slid down his side's and landed him his hips. After breaking apart one of his wings gently caressed James cheek. "You know James? I could get used to this. Care to take me out?" He whispered and leaned against him with a blushing face. "I sure do. And God your wings are incredible.. so strong and so gentle.." he whispered.

"so guys, I get the 5 bucks." Cap said as Sam groaned and handed him the money. The snap of a picture was done and the room was left quietly again. What they didn't know that Y/N had ruined the picture with his wing flapping Infront of them. Protecting what was important to him. The rays of sunshine slowly creeping their way through the window were wandering over the sleeping beauty next to James. He gently pushed some hair out of his face and kissed his lips gently. "You're my angel.."

[stephenkohlbear]

The Assistant And The Comedian

Genre: fluff, slight angst if you squint

Word Count: 1,812

Summary: you're Stephen's assistant and it's the first day of the Late Show. Before the show, the two of you share a tender moment, but Stephen has trouble coming to terms with his feelings.

Being Stephen Colbert's assistant was both tiring and sort of fun. For most parts, you can get anything from other people in the blink of an eye just by mentioning his name. Paperwork can get done and filed with ease, But just because your work-life was easy, didn’t mean that your personal life was any different.

Your boyfriend, Robert, viewed your job as an inconvenience. He couldn't comprehend how you were able to "tolerate an idiot like Colbert." He brought it up every chance he could, making you feel guilty about your job. The last argument you'd had resulted in him admitting his jealousy. 

He scoffed, "I mean seriously, Y/N, he's so full of himself, for goodness sake, he has a building with his own name on it!" 

"You have absolutely no idea what he's like, Robert!" You hastily continued to shove your clothes into a bag. 

"Of course I do! I go with you to every one of those damn parties he throws! The man is such an asshole," he threw his hands up, "everything he does, he does to spite me. All the dinners, parties, and late nights. Who the hell needs to work late to discuss guest appearances!" 

You abruptly stopped your shoving. "Are you suggesting I'm sleeping with my boss?" 

"Yes," he snapped, "I am."

You sighed heavily, "Can anyone tell me where Stephen is?" 

Today was the beginning of a new chapter in Stephen's life, and everyone who worked for him. After 5 months of being off the air, he was returning to TV as the host of The Late Show. 

Of course, you were thrilled for what lie ahead, yet you worried about how the public would view Stephen. For the first time in ten years he wouldn't be behind the mask he'd always worn. He'd be himself, the real Stephen Colbert, the one you've always known.

Paul walked by, a mic and props in his hands, "Check his office." 

You listened to him and made your way to Stephen's office, only to find him sitting at his desk. 

"Stephen," 

He raised his hands in defense, "I know, I know," he sighed, "I'll be out in a minute," he stood up to walk over to the window, admiring the cars below, "just first day jitters." 

You set the papers in your hands down on to his desk before walking over to where he stood. You stood so closely that both your shoes touched, like they always did. You and Stephen had been like this for years.

Neither of you minded your bodies accidentally brushing against each other; you barely dodged him anymore when it happened. 

You didn’t mind the occasional touch on the shoulder, on the arm, on a thigh even. You would lean over and dab a runaway drop of sauce off each other one’s face and think nothing of it. 

You hugged to celebrate. You hugged to console. Sometimes you just hugged for the hell of it. The concept of personal space was almost entirely lost to the two of you. 

Everything felt heavy, weighed down by the tension in the small office. Stephen glanced down at you. Never before did you feel this feeling that was currently rising in your chest. 

There was just something different about Stephen that you couldn’t quite place. Perhaps it was his sharp and elegant appearance that had you at a loss of words. Possibly his grin, or even those dark brown and beautiful eyes of his.

The glass windows showcased both your figures, standing inches apart from each other. Stephen loved moments like these. He loved admiring you, even if you weren't interested in him, he cherished you, he always had. 

He was in love with you. 

He was in love with you and planned to be in love with you for the rest of his life, if you would let him. Stephen had always said there was no greater testament than love itself. 

To him, love was in every sense of the word to offer his entire heart and place it on someone's bare hands, in this case your hands, despite knowing that you might crush it before his very eyes.

Your eyes sparkled in the night as the street lights from below hit them. He noticed all the things you didn’t, all the things you couldn’t.

He hesitantly opened his mouth to speak, "Oh thank God! Stephen where have you been?" The moment was interrupted by Paul, "we need you in hair and makeup for touch ups, we have an hour until show time." 

Stephen brought his right hand to his temples, rubbing them dubiously, "Paul, please I'll be right there, just give me a second," he stared at his best friend, a hint of annoyance in his eyes.

He seemed to have gotten the message and quickly exited the room, "alright, alright." The door shut softly.

Stephen turned to you again, smiling weakly, "I was going to say something," his smile faded," but it looks like I don't have much time." He glanced at his watch

Your eyes fell to the floor, "it's okay."

Stephen brought a finger to your chin, slowly lifting it, "Could my lovely assistant help me with my tie before I leave?" He's almost shy, speaking with an air of delicacy.

“Anything for my favorite comedian,” you jest, moving to fiddle with the black silk, “Windsor knot?”

"Y/N you know me all too well."

The moment is quiet, and you take your time to make the knot even and clean, your fingertips grazing the hot skin of his neck as you flip up his collar. His aftershave is heavy, dark and very Stephen. You find yourself feeling a little small under his gaze, as it burns into you.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Stephen says, his voice lilting with something sweet, “just admiring the view.”

You laugh, your current choice of clothing was nothing to swoon over. You'd chosen a plain pearl dress shirt, black dress pants, all to be topped off with a pair of Vans. Needless to say you were a mess. 

Stephen’s eyes widen, and his lips part, confusion flashing through his eyes as he glances at you, “Hey!” He pouts, brows furrowing. "You're breathtaking.” 

You avoided eye contact as you laid his tie down, flattening it. "Thank you, Y/N." You nod.

You can't see it, but he smiles tenderly, wishing he had the courage to admit his feelings, to say what he'd been dying to say since he'd hired you. 

You smile, looking up at Stephen’s pretty visage. His office light casts a dim shadow on his face that insinuates his long, model-like eyelashes, showing the faint redness in his cheeks.

He holds back smiling like the fool he is. Admittedly, he is a hopeless romantic at heart, although the pursuit of pure heartbreak looms over him, almost taunting him. 

You brought him back down to earth, when everything feels as if falling apart or moving too far away. One look at you, and his breathing was steady. His heart rate picks up a bit, and his hands are clammy. Not because he’s scared, but because you make him nervous. 

You touch his soul so deeply, to the point where he is completely, and utterly vulnerable to your grasp. 

He loved the conversations you two had late at night, as you both forced your eyes to stay open a little bit longer. They were energy-filled with debates about love, adoration, knowledge, truths, and so much more. He wanted more of it, more of you. 

As he stands there, in the moment, admiring you as stand before him, he wishes he wasn't so terrified of loving you. Given his past relationships, forming a fresh new ache and vulnerability, for yet another person frightens the fuck out of him. 

"Y/N," he breathes heavily, "thank you, for everything," he leans down to place a gentle kiss on your cheek, "I'll see you after the show." He exits the room, leaving you alone in his office. 

"That's a wrap everyone! Thank you all so much for a great first show," Stephen raises his glass, "and here's to many more!" 

The entire staff is smiling and cheering, yourself included, at Stephen, who currently stood on the roof of the theater. The after party was in full swing.  

After his toast, everyone went back to partying, which left Stephen to himself. Stephen bobs his head and chews at his lip. His smile is anxious, despite the elated, conspiratorial expressions on everyone else. They’re all too distracted by their own excitement to notice that the man who gave it to them isn’t all there. 

He's too distracted by the thought of you. 

Hastily he jumped off the roof, and on to the floor, not acknowledging your presence. You cleared your throat, hoping he'd hear you over the noise currently being emitted from the partygoers. 

"Hey," he beamed, "I missed you." You blush at his comment, still flustered by the kiss from earlier. 

Slowly he makes his way to you, “Can I have this dance, Y/N?” He holds his hand out to you, kneeling in front of you as if you are royalty. You play along and give your best royal accent.  

“Of course.” You place your left hand softly in his right, his eyes glisten under the light, making you smile. He pulls you closer to him, one arm securely around your waist, while your arm rests on his shoulder, playing the curls at the nape of his neck. 

You both swayed to the rhythm of the music, completely ignoring the fact that some of the staff was watching. In this second, in this minute, it didn’t matter. 

As you dance, time felt slow. Together, you danced to the music, feet in perfect sync to the beating of your heart. As the song progressed, you felt relaxed as you let the words of the song tell each other how you feel. You allowed a small smile to form on your lips, and he reciprocates.

His eyes are deep and irresistible, but never leaving yours. He leans in and places a soft kiss on your lips, causing your heartbeat to accelerate. 

The warmth between the both of you grows more powerful by the second, as you get more emotional with the song. Your heartbeat was growing steadily along with it. 

Stephen decided to let go. Let his worries, his pain, and sorrow go. Right here, right now, he was living. Nothing else seemed to matter anymore, except for you. 

You continue to dance until the song ended causing you to fall into his arms for a hug. You feel him kiss the top of your head, with a smile still lingering on his lips. 

“Guess what?” He mumbles into your ear, causing you to look up at him. 

“What?”

"I love you."