#i've had that idea floating around in my brain for at least a month now and i'm REALLY starting to consider it

[thawthebeez]

thinking about it..... really thinking about it.........

[bloomshroomz]

Cupid's Aro Pride Flag

I had this idea to make an aromantic pride flag based on the concept of Cupid's arrow. "Cupid's aro" is a pun that I've seen every now and then, but as far as I can tell, it doesn't have any assigned meaning within the aromantic community. This term has been floating around in my brain for at least several months, and I wanted to make something of it. So, here's my coining:

"Cupid's aro" is a term for aromantic people who have a notable connection to attraction, romance, love, affection, intimacy, and/or partnership. For example, this includes:

People on the aromantic spectrum who experience some level of attraction, regardless of whether that attraction is romantic or not. This includes greyromantics, aroallos, oriented aroaces, etc.

People on the aromantic spectrum who are romance-favorable, romance-indifferent, or otherwise have feelings towards romance which can't be described as wholly averse or repulsed.

People on the aromantic spectrum who are partnering, regardless of whether they are romantically partnering or not.

People on the aromantic spectrum who experience love.

People on the aromantic spectrum who enjoy being deeply affectionate and/or intimate with other people.

People on the aromantic spectrum who enjoy aesthetics like lovecore, and/or enjoy holidays like Valentine's day.

It's an intentionally loose term because I'm not the first to come up with it, and I won't be the last. I'm mostly coining this for fun.

Here are some variants featuring different identities:

You don't have to identify as a "Cupid's aro" to use any of these flags. Using them as flags for the identities they represent, without "Cupid's" attached, is also fine.

[changbunnies]

Crave, Part 1 (18+)

♡ Pairing: Romantic Demon!Hyunjin x Human Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: supernatural au, demon au, age gap relationship typical in monster fucker fics, intended to be porn with plot but atm there is more plot than porn lol

♡ Word Count: 3.6k

♡ Summary: "The more a thing is perfect, the more it feels pleasure and pain." - Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy. In which Hyunjin, a demon from the nine circles of hell, finds himself impossibly infatuated with the very human he once set upon himself to destroy.

♡ Warnings: don’t read if you’ll be uncomfortable over talks about religion from the perspective of a demon!, themes of sexual purity in the context of religion, a lot of immoral behavior and thoughts + ideas from hyunjin, supernatural abilities, themes of possesiveness, the seven deadly sins are brought up multiple times, hyun is thousands of years old so take that as you will lol, hell's structure is based off dante alighieri's depiction of it in the divine comedy but knowledge of it isn't necessary to enjoy this fic!

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): there isn't really any overt smut in this first part it's more like referenced sexual activity, masturbation, voyeurism (hyun is watching reader while they're unaware he is there), porn watching

♡ Notes: after receiving feedback, i'll now be posting my long fics in multiple parts as i finish them like i do on ao3 instead of waiting until it's finished to post here! i'm taking a break from my royal au series to finally write out this fic i've had rattling in my brain since last september but never got around to writing until this past month :') idk how long this will be in the end but i'm planning at least 3 parts! i hope you stick around till the end <3

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

There are many things in this world, the world of humans, that even a monster such as Hyunjin was born to desire. A primal want, weaved into the very fabric of his being, designed to be etched into his soul- if he had one, that is. That is what initially brought him here; the heart of one of the world's most populated cities, his territory an otherwise unoccupied luxury suite in one of the many skyrises that line the bustling streets.

It was an ideal place to be; there wasn't much in the way of furniture, given that it's a new development with no human occupants, but the amenities it held were sleek and pristine. High windows that overlooked the entirety of the city rife with sin from what was nearly the top floor, marble countertops that screamed sophistication and elegance, and well equipped with security of both the physical and digital kind to keep out those who may want to chase the thrill of wandering where they do not belong. Hyunjin, who could simply float about wherever he wished, had no need for human things like beds or sofas.

In this space, he already had everything he needed- an ideal vantage point, isolation from the world until he himself chose to interact with it, and easy access to the myriad of damned soul that walked the streets beneath him. It was perfect, and it was his- until you showed up.

Hyunjin was no stranger to dealing with potential renters overtaking his territory- it was only natural for those with wealth to be ready to spend a fortune on the newest availble luxury apartment that catches their eye. While Hyunjin had never once been seen; he was certainly known; rumors abound of an evil presence in suite 13, that left even non-believers fleeing in terror, leaving as quickly as they came. "Evil" felt a bit extreme of a description from Hyunjin's perspective, but what would humans truly understand of him? 

He always felt as if his actions were completely justified; after all, why should a being with immense power such as him bend to the will of a measely human whose life was akin to a grain of sand in the desert of immortality that was his own lifespan? Regardless of his justifications and thoughts on what is evil and what isn't, he welcomed the fear humans have towards him- it made his life easier if they feared him and stayed far from his domain. 

And yet here you were, seemingly ignorant of the fearful reputation this apartment held (not that he expected that the building's landlord would have informed you of it, of course- their only goal is money, at the end of the day.) Hyunjin didn't care for the rules of humans- whether or not you'd supplied the necessary money to purchase your way here or were deserving of it made no difference to him. It was his until he decided otherwise, and you were trespassing on his territory by being here.

When he'd first arrived back after a long outing back in his home within the second circle of the nine hells, only to see you filling his space with your things, walking about the apartment as if you owned it, blissfully unaware of his presence- it was infuriating. He had half a mind to scare you out right then, forever scar you by showing you his true form, send you running as he'd done to countless before you who tried to be here. But no, that wouldn't be enough. It would be letting you off too easily for his liking; this was different than scaring off someone who might intrude on his home- you already had.

What he wanted was more than his territory back- he wanted to make you suffer the most egregious torment one could ever endure for intruding on it, something far worse and much harsher than whatever a demon below his stature could muster. You deserved worse than that of mild terror, or to be able to flee from his space without repercussions for your transgression. No, he would only take back what was his after he'd turned your mind into a den of paranoia and hysteria. You needed to know true terror, true loss, true suffering, by his hand.

So he settled for observing you- it would be a longer process, one that could easily take months to reach true fruition, but the reward would be well worth his patience. He watched carefully, intently, his presence always concealed but unmistakably there. You would feel it sometimes, unbeknownst to yourself. A sudden chill up your spine, the subtle feeling of being watched making you turn your head, only to be met with nothing unusual in your line of sight. Funny, how humans were so attuned to the supernatural while simultaneously being so oblivious to their reality.

Your routines became committed to his memory, your every step and every action becoming increasingly familiar to him. Boring at times, but necessary if he wanted to learn the ins and outs of what makes you you, taking in every detail and memorizing them fully, so that when the day comes for him to turn your life into a miserable tragedy, forming you into a shell of who you once were, you'd have to beg him for forgiveness, for his mercy.

What were your fears? He'd easily make them reality. What did you hate? He'd make sure you suffered it. What broke your heart? He'd subject you to that pain over and over, until your heart was left shattered into a million, microscopic pieces. And it was only then, when you were mentally destroyed, the lowest you could ever possibly be and unrecognizable in your despair, that he'd appear before you, triumphant as he made you apologize for ever having stepped foot in his domain.

But as he observed you, he came to realize something strange- something he had never once found himself thinking about a human before. You were so... good, the closest to perfection a human could ever possibly be. And not perfect by the bullshit puritan standards set by the "heavenly creator," because you were as touched by sin as any human is, but perfect to him specifically.

Your sins were few and far between, with only one making a substantial impact on your purity; but it was the most important, most delicious sin of them all, the one that made Hyunjin's body seethe with delectable desire. You weren't envious, nor greedy or gluttonous; you lived in a luxurious penthouse suite, that was true, but greed to have the best of everything isn't what brought you here. The pride you felt for your accomplishments didn't go anywhere near sinful levels- you were proud of yourself, but not in such a way that you looked down on others while you sat atop your high horse.

You weren't slothful, brought to your current position by your own hard work and tireless efforts, and you weren't wrathful either, your emotions toward your fellow man always sweet, compassionate, and gracious. That only left one sin- just one that impacted your soul, that barred you from reaching true, godly purity.

Lust.

It wasn't an unhealthy amount of lust by any means, but any at all is enough to damn an unmarried woman's soul if she gives in to the temptation- an unfair ruling that has cost many their rightful place in paradise. And you certainly did give in to your temptation, and that is what made you perfect to him. You had none of the avarice of other humans, none of the undesirable qualities that made them foolish and arrogant and insufferable to deal with, instead held closely by one desire, the most important desire.

Was it a coincidence, he wondered? That he, a demon born of lust himself, found one such human that seemed to adhere perfectly to what he enjoys most? Hyunjin often felt himself above that of the sins his brothers were born to pursue. Violence did not suit him, emotions such as greed, pride, and jealousy often went beyond his comprehension. And not because he was some lowly, ignorant creature who was only capable of thinking with his dick, but because those feelings simply never came to him to begin with.

What was there to be jealous of? If he wanted something, he could have it, he could take it, as simple as that. Was he prideful? Sure, one could say he was, say that he had an ego, but he would argue that there was a clear difference between the arrogance that often comes with pride, and simply having confidence in one's own abilities and joy in their accomplishments.

He knew he could feel other emotions, indulge in other sins, if his brothers' conquests and actions were any tell, but he simply.. didn't. Lust was all he knew, was all that he enjoyed, but at the same time, he wasn't some low level demon who was consumed by lust. No, he could control it quite easily if he wished, was more than capable of waiting for the most ideal moment to finally savor in the addictive dance two bodies can share. (Or more than two bodies, should one prefer that.)

Lust was all he ever knew, but unlike the sex-starved beasts he ruled over and observed in his circle within hell, he was very much in control of himself. Make no mistake, it never went away, he always felt the gnawing craving for more and more and more- but it never addled his mind. That was the perk of being a demon with a higher consciousness than that of say.. an imp. He had complete control of his compulsions and desires. 

It was this control over himself that led to Hyunjin savoring the lust that poured from human souls in only the most ideal conditions. There were many different kinds of lust, each with their own "taste" so to speak, and while Hyunjin found them all enjoyable to at least some degree, there was one in particular that was the most intoxicating to him, one that never failed to light a fire within him, the one that was always, always, worth waiting for.

The lust between two lovers, whose care for eachother was true, and good, and special- such as you would see from couples sleeping together for the first time, full to the brim with nervous excitement. Or maybe from long-time lovers reigniting their spark with a romantic night spent together after a warm, candlelit date. Especially delectable was the sweet consummation after making an eternal promise under God to be together forever, in sickness and in health, 'til death do you part. Those are just a few examples of the sort of lust that gave Hyunjin the best, sweetest taste.

The irony of being an immoral entity who gained the most enjoyment out of love and romance wasn't lost on him, but his preferences weren't built on some misconceived notion that he could aspire to feel those things himself. Yes, Hyunjin knew he would never feel the human emotion that was love, but he could understand, at least on a superficial level, why it tasted so sweet, and why humans seemed to fight for that feeling above all else.

Perhaps he existed to be a hypocrite, sowing seeds of chaos and turmoil while valuing true love, contradicting that which humans believed they knew about demons of lust such as himself. After all, was it not the very nature of a demon to confuse, contradict, and twist the human condition? And was it not utterly against his being to indulge in a feeling that was considered sacred by God? It didn't matter either way; if there was one thing that Hyunjin knew for certain, it was that sweet tastes were the best, and it didn't matter where it originated from or how- he just knew he liked it.

And oh, how his proverbial heart jolted when he sensed it on you the first time he saw you touching yourself. It was a surprise when, after a long day of unpacking and arranging furniture, you let your hand travel sinfully between your legs with a heady sigh- and far be it from Hyunjin to deny himself the opportunity to feed on a human's lust when it's practically being delivered to him on a silver platter. You hadn't been touching yourself for long, barely got your panties down your legs when he tasted it- subtle, but familiar enough to Hyunjin that he could recognize it anywhere.

It was hard to explain the sweet taste in human terms- there were really no words that could come close to describing it, as the "flavor" itself didn't exist within human understanding. Suffice it to say, it was something entirely unique to his kind, and something any demon would be able to distinguish with ease should they be in close enough proximity. It was unmistakable- you loved someone. That was information that could serve him well, something that he should be delighted to know he could ruin you with. And yet, for the first time in all his thousands of years, the feeling of lustful love left a bitter taste on his tongue.

You were in love.. And you envisioned that person while your fingers were buried between your legs, as you bit your lip and made your eyes roll to the back of your skull. Who was it? Why did you love them? Were they even deserving of someone as perfect as you? Did they deserve to touch you? To feel you? Hyunjin grit his teeth, fists clenching into tight balls as an unfamiliar feeling began to permeate through the entirety of his being.

Is this.. what envy feels like? A rage beyond comprehension at the thought of someone else having you when it should be him? He should be the one you desired to have touching you, the one you imagined marking your unmarred skin, the one who made you cry out and tremble with even the simplest of touches. Would they even indulge in the sweet taste you radiate like he would? Would they even understand what perfection it is you offer simply by being? His, you should be his, only his, his, his.

The realization hit Hyunjin like cold water over hot skin- he wants you. And not just for one night, not superficially, not with needing to part ways afterwards. He wants you to love him, wants the feeling of love-drenched lust that radiates off you to be because of him, wants you to belong to him and him alone. You don't know him yet, but you will. And he'll make sure you're left wanting him, and only him, by any means necessary. Because it's what he wants, and he always gets what he wants.

Hyunjin wants to say it's simple curiosity that leads him to carefully stealing your phone off your nightstand once you've fallen asleep, or that's acting with the desire to know how to ruin the target of his ire more succinctly, but that simply isn't true. No, he is scrounging through your phone not with the intent to learn your greatest fears and hates, nor does he scour your messages to discover your darkest secrets.

It's a different purpose that has led him here, an unfamiliar ache that drives him to search your phone for something more. In hindsight, going through your phone to learn about you is a simple, easy act he could've, should've, done already, but he's a bit of a traditionalist in that regard. (Or maybe he just doesn't want to admit how much he's liked watching you these past few weeks.)

Who is that you love? And why? It would've been easier for him to find out had you truly let yourself go, allowed yourself to be loud and moan their name to your heart's content, but you hadn't. And maybe that was a good thing, as hearing someone else's name leave your lips in such a moment would've definitely sent him into a dangerous hate spiral, but that also meant he was left with nothing to go on as a clue.

He was much too stunned, and then seething with anger and jealousy, to read your thoughts in the moment, and if he tried to do so now, while you were sleeping, all he would do is catch a glimpse of your dreams- not helpful in the slightest, unless you happen to be dreaming of the object of your desire. (Which you weren't. He already looked.)

Unlocking your phone is easy, as he's seen you put in your password several times over at this point. Unfortunately for him however, (and fortunate for the one undeserving of Hyunjin's wrath,) he finds nothing that makes the object of your affection explicitly obvious. Your texts with friends all use the same tone, you talk about mundane things like what movies are coming out or how you wish you could go on a vacation for a while.

Your photo gallery is relatively small, filled mostly by screenshots of things you wish to remember or keep for a laugh, and the occasional selfie. There's nothing that screams "this is the person i'm in love with!" no matter where in your phone he looks, and if it wasn't for how intensely he felt the emotion radiating from you as your fingers sped up and release built, he'd think he must have imagined it.

What interesting this he does find, however, are the differen't porn links littered through your incognito tabs, all that paint a very vivid picture of what you find most appealing, or in more vulgar terms, what gets your pussy really fucking wet. He skims through your collection of favorites and private bookmarks, and quickly comes to realize they all hold a similar theme- love, romance, and doms who are soft even when being rough with the sub's body or speaking condescending words.

Various videos and audio files, with titles such as "roommate gets railed after confessing her secret feelings," "pov: boy next door accidentally confesses and then fucks you passionately," and "soft dom makes his good girl cum hard: boyfriend asmr." There's even an entire erotic movie, much to Hyunjin's surprise, with a 2 hour run time and dedicated plot in your recent bookmarks.

He decides to watch it, for research purposes of course- what better way to get to know the object of his desire than by watching the porn she consumes for himself? It's rather generic as far as ideas go- childhood best friends confessing their love before going away to college, with sweet, sensual but desperate fucking and a promise they'll be in love no matter the distance put between them. A cliché plot, by human media standards. 

However, he has to give it due props- it's obviously not an amateur production. It's acted well, has better cinematography than one might expect for a film produced by a porn studio, and the dialogue never crosses into cringe, overtly fake territory. Despite it all, something about it feels real, as if he'd taken a genuine glimpse into the lives of two young people in love, rather than a manufactured video meant to make the people who watch it unbearably horny.

Hyunjin continued through your collection after that, eager to see what other gems lied in your favorites, waiting to be watched by him. They're all the same fundamentally speaking, your preferences and biases easily shining through with each video watched and audio listened to. Emotionally charged, romantic confessions, sweet "i love you"s, soft, caring doms who take good care of the submissive one, making them feel desired, beautiful, and secure.

The person you're in love with, the one who lingers in your mind when you watch these videos and your hand travels between your legs- this is what you want them to do. You want them to love you passionately, to make you fall apart in the sweetest of ways, to take care of you so well that your thoughts can linger on nothing but the way they make you feel. You want them to sweetly tell you they love you while they fuck you, to speak filthy words in your ears in a soft, saccharine voice as they make you cum. To fuck you dumb, to ruin you, and then expertly put you back together with a tender touch. 

Carefully, he puts your phone back in its place, looking at you once he's done, still sound asleep in your bed and without a clue in the world that there's a demon standing before you, close enough to touch. You've lived with Hyunjin for weeks now, but you don't know who he is, don't know that he's there, don't know that you have unexpectedly become the reason for a demon's strange and new complex emotions. Isn't it funny? How a demon as powerful as him has become infatuated with you despite you not even knowing he exists.

It's illogical to desire you, truly. Humans are fickle, subject to corruption and irrationality, their lives impossibly short. What one man works his entire life to obtain, Hyunjin can have in mere moments with a fraction of the effort. To a being that has lived thousands of years, the life of a human happens in a mere blink. You grow old, you get sick, you die, your accomplishments fade to nothing, forgotten as the next wave of humans walk the earth in your stead. You're beneath him, he's better than you, and yet..

Why does he still crave you so? Maybe he's no better than the humans he's looked down upon, considering them lesser for their innate hypocrisies and irrational actions- because Hyunjin is about to do just the same. His feelings for you are hypocritical, irrational, foolish, but also the most real thing he's ever felt. And if it's romance you want, that will make you fall head over heels for him, then he'll be the most romantic demon the nine hells have ever known.

[story-courty]

So I had this idea...

I know it's not Juke Jeudi, BUT I've had this idea floating around Discord for a WHILE and thought I'd throw it out here and see what my other friends thought!

The fic starts out in the middle of Nick's wedding vows to Julie.

"I Nick..." the pastor says

"I Nick..." he repeats

"Take you, Julie..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

Pastor clears throat

"Take you, Julie..." he repeats.

"Can't."

Basic jist after that? Nick and Carrie have been seeing each other behind Julie's back for months, and he chose THE MIDDLE OF THEIR WEDDING to tell her.

Julie is SO not amused.

"No, you know what?" she says, "This is fine." She turns to Carrie. "If he's willing to cheat with you, sweet pea, he's willing to cheat on you. Don't say I didn't warn you."

She glares at them. "You two need to leave. Now."

"Julie-" Nick starts.

"No, seriously. Go. And don't stop for the, 'Oh my gosh, we ran out of your wedding!' victory kiss either. You have exactly two minutes to peel out of here, because if I see either of you in the parking lot by the time I leave, I can't guarantee I won't hit you with my car."

They leave, and Julie takes herself downtown to the bar, still in her wedding dress. She gets pretty into the tequila and sees a cute blond guy down the bar from her. He reminds her just the vaguest bit of Nick (blond and blue-eyed seems to be a thing with her), moves to sit next to him, and asks him, "Do you think I'm pretty?"

He can tell she's toasted, so he plays along. "I think you're very pretty."

"Good. Wanna marry me? Because I'd really hate to waste this dress."

He laughs. "I would, but I can't lie to you, you're not quite my type."

She shrugs. "Apparently I'm not anyone's type. Otherwise, I wouldn't be sitting here getting super drunk instead of on a flight to Croatia for my honeymoon."

He holds up a hand, scared he's insulted her. "Hey, don't get me wrong. Were my situation different, you'd totally be my type. I definitely have a soft spot for long dark hair and a great tan."

Julie's still confused. "So what's the problem?"

He winces. "Um... Let's just say your chromosomes aren't paired quite right for me."

"Chromosomes..." Julie says to herself, her alcohol-fuzzed brain working overtime. Then it hits her. "Oooooooooh. You're gay."

"I am."

"So it's not me you're not attracted to. It's just women in general."

"You are correct."

"Oh. Well, at least you think I'm pretty."

"I think you're very pretty."

"Thanks... Um..."

"Alex. Name's Alex."

"I'm Julie."

They shake hands.

Eventually, Alex realizes Julie isn't sure where her car is anymore, and he can't get a hold of a Lyft or Uber (both apps are down). He can't very well leave her by herself (there are WEIRDOS out there), so he winds up taking her home with him.

She passes out on Alex's couch and doesn't remember anything after that.

In the morning, one of Alex's roommates, Luke, finds her and yells, "Alex, did you get married? To a woman??"

Shenanigans ensue.

SO! What do we think? Worth pursuing? Lemme know!

[nadianova]

How much time do you spend planning some of your visual novels? At least going by some of them being jam submissions, it feels like you go from pre-production to a finished build very quickly, and it's amazing how you can manage that while still having an awesome story and so many assets.

Also, what is like, the process of planning a story out for you, if there's any vague or concrete similarities that you've noticed?

i think the important context here is that if i get bored/have nothing to do i jhust immediately get really suicidal its like ridiculous how bad it gets(ITS FINE DONT WORRY ABOUT IT IVE HAD 5 YEARS OF THERAPY). so i hate being bored and want to occupy my time wit something fun whatever that is. if i have a project to focus on but especially if I'm working for a game jam i have a deadline and i just decide to myself okay i will release a game now.

because ive made a decent amount of games i roughly have an idea on my capabilities, i can estimate how long it takes for me to write a story so and so long and how long it takes for me to draw stuff i need and how long it takes for me to throw stuff in renpy. these are estimates like as in I'm not accurate with it but still enough that i generally know where to start cutting ideas since the most important part is just having something to submit. i also know to plan around my brain wanting to slam my head into a wall an my hands suddenly giving up on being able to draw.

i think thats the beauty of game jams it forces you to just go for it and release something. releasing a 'bad' game is better than no game at all. experience only comes over time and i think just going for it is the best approach there is. like its literally 2 weeks 1 month whatever of your life. if you have the time and motivation go for it. make it work or fuck it up it wont matter in the grand scheme of things

im not sure what is the motivation behind the question but i do want to point out that this is just my method (if you can even call it a method) and the only way to figure out what works for you is to just try until you find something that actually works for you

idk not everyone will find it doable/fun to plan around spending two weeks gamedev 10 hours a day just cause i wanted to fit in 100 cgs for a jam game but apparently i can do that when i cheat my stupid adhd brain into hyperfocus with adhd meds

READMORE BECAUSE I CANT STOP RAMBLING

as for planning tho i think ideas on their own are worthless and its always about execution in the end. a great idea or a meh idea are the same for me but i do still enjoy the planning process so i keep notes

like i see a great tumblr post or i see some art or visual novel has some scene that inspires me: i save that shit for myself

having a big collection of random floating ideas like that helps me easily pick from especially during a jam type duration. right now i have like 4-5 half-baked project skeletons, some are literally like 3 pictures and some like naomida are a hundred hours worth of me writing world building about how the toilets work in a city with no plumbing cause its -30celcius(i love bringing this up)=

i dont normally plan that much, i tend to just wing it. like for malmaid i seriously just had some rough ideas and just went along as i wrote

same thing for dddeviance i had a handful of scenes that i really wanted to make and knew what kind of start and end it was meant to have and just figured out how to fill the in between. a lot of plot points changed vastly like halfway through i realised my devil + angel combination was stupid and i should just go for fallen angel + angel.

i think there really is no simple answer tho (as evident from the long as hell post) i don't really have a 'process' because every single game has been worked on has come with different type of planning since I'm always trying new stuff to try and distract me from boredom. like I've been using obsidian for naomida while previously I've just used a empty discord serve as my notes app for malmaid and dddeviance

and tbh with naomida I'm running to a new problem where I'm definitely planning too much. like I'm spending too much time fidgeting with details in chapter 4 even when i haven't finished writing chapter 1 just cause its so easy to get in the loop of "oh ill just change this one line" and boom 20 mins spent playing with my notes that didn't really progress my game since by the time i reach this point the whole scene might have shifted to something else

.

but if i had to squeeze an answer itd be something like everything related to my art or writing or games is just like "oooooo that seems fun i should remember this for later" and then i just string 10-100 of those into a story

i tend to write my stories in a format of

character A does this and that

this happens here

puppy play ryona piss orgasm

new day and then this happens here

sad thing happens

more piss orgasm

the end

and just like start filling in more details and working on my story in a nonlinear fashion until i feel like i have a strong enough skeleton that i can start writing my scenes. i hop around a lot, often preferring to write the fun scenes first like ero stuff or the ones I'm the most interested in and then the rest is just filling the blanks and stringing the cool scenes together

[evevoli]

original story concept: flight feathers (working title)

aka me shoving my new OCs in everyone's faces for a few minutes. low and behold, my gang of losers:

from left to right: Phoenix, Selene, Helios, and Killian

so a wayward beam of divine insanity lightning struck me about four months ago in the form of the first genuinely coherent original story idea i've had in... basically forever and i am finally crawling out of my mad ornithologist lab to talk about it, if only so i have something to point to when i start tagging random innocuous text posts with the names of characters no one's ever heard of. this project is perhaps the most self-indulgent Autism Fueled venture i have ever gone on and it is so fun actually

the basic gist of the story is that local Teenage Bird Hater Selene accidentally gets isekai'd to a Greco-Roman/baroque-inspired city on a floating archipelago hidden in the clouds, inhabited by bird-worshipping winged people. there she befriends a strange one-winged fortune teller named Phoenix, who takes her in while she looks for a way back down to earth.

as a certified Bird Disliker(tm) for reasons she will absolutely not disclose, the idea of being trapped in this city with its strange bird-entrenched culture has got to be Selene's personal hell. but she's already made a few good friends and is learning a lot, so hey... if you ignore the castle surrounded by doves looming off in the distance, and the general poor sentiment surrounding corvids, maybe it's not such a bad place to be after all.

...until it turns out the King himself might have it out for her, much to the dismay of his son and loyal knight, Prince Helios and Captain Killian.

there is. A Lot more to it than that lol—and at least like 8 more characters i haven't gotten to drawing yet—but there's your elevator pitch. to explain the world a bit more, everyone has bird wings to fly with, their own Bird Familiars(tm), and rides around on pegasi and different species of griffin. the world consists of little islands connected by bridges, with the city developed vertically, and sort of resembles a fusion between the Aether mod in Minecraft and Zephyr Heights in MLP G5.

and now the most important thing, the Closeups

some notes:

Selene is transfem :), Helios is transmasc only because i tried giving him curled ram horns and got so frustrated trying to draw them i just gave up and gave him the ewe ones instead

Selene is a Wolf Kid and really vibes with the lyrics to Angel of Darkness on a personal level

Helios's wings are weak and undersized so he can't take off or fly for very long on his own

i like to consider Helios my personal challenge to design the most unapologetically cringe and archetypal character ever. i am going to make a character that is so sad little loser prince. kicks him

Phoenix is a childhood nickname, Killian is just a shortened form of Achilles. Phoenix absolutely hates his birth name. Killian is ambivalent towards his

Phoenix lost his left wing in an accident that changed the trajectory of his life forever teehee :3c

the little blue jay is named Celeste, the crow is Peanut, and the tawny owl is Athena :)

and that is all i shall reveal in this post >:) this idea has been rotting my brain from the inside out for months now so don't hesitate to shoot me an ask if you're wondering about anything :]

[aceofwhump]

Hi Ace. How are you? I was wondering what are your plans for September and October on Tumblr? Any theme posts? More whump from different movies/tv shows?

Can't wait to see what you have planned.

A big, cozy hug to warm you on the upcoming cold months. Xoxo

Hi hi!! Oh my gosh I have so many plans. So many.

I want to gif all the many lovely requests people have sent in. That's a priority for me. Some I've had for months and haven't gotten to yet and I feel bad about that so I want to do that.

I want to try and make some gifsets for Whumptober. I was gonna try and so an Ashmore twin theme for this years whumptober but honestly I've been rewatching Hawaii Five-0 and a lot of the prompts happen in the show and now I want to make it Five-0 themed lol. Not sure how many I'll get made but I want to at least do a few. And I'm gonna do an Ashmore twin themed prompt month at some point. Cause that was a great idea given to me and it would be so fun and I'm gonna do it at some point.

I have a long list of whumps I want to gif including several things I've already got the screencaps for. Like Almost Paradise, Damsel, Delicious in Dungeon, 15th Doctor whump, Murdoch Mysteries, Masters of the Air, some 9-1-1 whumps from last season, Lucas Bouchard getting shot in When Calls the Heart, some other Hallmark movie things, and muuuuuch more.

There are also some theme posts I didn't get done in time for my Gifathon so I want to make those. Like, period drama whump, favorite relationship whumpee/caretaker, villains. Things like that.

Basically I need time to gif lol! My to gif list is SOOOOOO LONG!!

Some other things I'd like to do:

finish the epilogue to my Cursed fanfic

write some of the many whumpy ficlets I've got floating around in my brain for various tv shows

I have an idea to do some whump this or thats but not as polls because I want to encourage people to reblog and answer them. Like, I want people to choose their favorite and then reblog and tell me why it's their fav. A reason to let people just go on a fun rant about their favorite tropes.

I also need to clean out my likes cause I got a lot of whumpy posts in there I keep meaning to reblog

So that's my plans and hopes for like the rest of the year lol. Don't know how much I'll get to but I'm gonna try!

And thank you for the warm hug! Much appreciated and sending one right back! The chilly months are here and I am very very happy about that. Now if only these 90F degree days would go away. This is my curl up with a hot chocolate and a sweater and watch spooky movie season. Can't do that when it's hot as crap lol.

[ashwin-the-artless]

So.

I'm listening to They Might Be Giants and Miike Snow while eating a poptart and downloading the Murderbot Diaries by Martha Wells.

Before writing my book, we'd started reading Twig, by Wildbow, actually. And in the wake of writing my book, we've returned to it.

Well, actually, we stopped reading Twig before NaNoWriMo happened.

But, then, Goreth put that aside in order to give me time to attempt to finish translating Blood in the Duff for November's challenge, and I got over 14K words done on that project before it was rudely interrupted by housemate shenanigans and Abigail maybe needing surgery.

They, by the time the month was over and the surgery was canceled, Goreth had gotten a line on a possible publisher and floated the idea of sending one of our books to them.

And then Sarah pointed out that publishers like to have first publication rights, and so we'd need to write a new book that wasn't part of the Sunspot Chronicles series. And then she was like, "Ashwin! Write your autobiography!"

But, that didn't really make a lot of sense to me, because the Sunspot Chronicles is basically a good chunk of my biography already. Though I don't appear in any of it by name.

However, after talking to Sarah and Goreth about it, we figured out that she meant I should write about my first month or so of living on Earth and how I've gotten around to being the translator and correspondent for the Sunspot Chronicles. And I thought that was a pretty good idea.

But, when I got into reliving those events and writing them down, I found I could stop until it was done!

It seriously interrupted our lives!

I wrote for something like eight to twelve hours a day, and we often didn't move from our chair that whole time. Which was hard as Scales on our vessel.

Anyway, even harder than any of that is shifting gears now that it's done. Our brain is telling us I should still be writing. And even though we've gotten pretty far back into Twig since finishing the book, you can tell by just how many posts I've made to my new blog how well that's really going.

And now we're downloading more books to read!

But. I think it's a good idea.

We want to rewrite the End of the Tunnel at least once before submitting it to the publisher, and we can't really do that well right away. It would be good to let it sit for a while and come back to it with fresh eyes. Maybe have a different system member from me read it. Maybe Ni'a or Phage. Or, ooh, send it to `etekeyerrinwuf for @fenmere to be a beta reader!

Anyway, reading a bunch of other writing will probably help with that, if we can just focus on it.

In the mean time, I've got an idea for this blog's header image I'm going to try to get Sarah to do. (memnärrä is Inmararräo for "my blog", more or less, and I'm using that as a tag for posts where I make even a passing reference to what I'm doing or have done recently)

[bardofavon]

⏳ and 🧠(for whichever character you prefer) for the writer/fanfic ask game please

⌛ How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter?

Okay this answer is going to make me sound insane but it actually only takes me about 2 hours on average to write a 1.7-3k word chapter. The main problem I have though is getting the inspiration to actually sit down for 2 hours and write it. I spend all week thinking over in my head what I want to happen and then I just sit down and it pops out fully formed, but the struggle is if I sit down and nothing pops out I have to wait around until it does. I think the longest it's taken me to write a chapter took me like...6 hours in one sitting??? but the longest time stretch it took me to MOTIVATE myself to write a chapter was that long period last year where I went a couple of months without updating, but I also wasn't actively thinking about it and engaging with it as much. I'm at the point now where because I think about it, talk about it, engage with it, add songs to the playlist, read comments to hype myself up, etc. it's easier to sit down and crank something out because I've already sort of got what's going down floating around in here.

It's ALSO a lot quicker for me to write if I have SOMETHING from the next chapter written, even if it's just a few sentences or part of a scene, because then I have at least some idea of where to go from there so if I write 2k words in one sitting it's usually 1.5k words from the chapter i'm about to post and 500+ words for the next chapter. and then next time i sit down to write i'm finishing that week's chapter and starting the next one. and any time in the meantime that i wake up in the middle of the night and jot down stuff or put things in the notes app in my phone it's just a bonus.

🧠 Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them.

I'm actually pretty bad at talking about headcanons for some reason??? When someone asks me my brain freezes up but I definitely have them because I supplement my stories with them, it's just kind of an "it comes up when it comes up" kind of thing but I also don't really engage with the fandom or fanworks so I don't really get the osmosis finding and collecting cool headcanons from other people kind of thing either (also i'm a bitch and most of the time when i read a headcanon my brain goes 'yeah we read different books because MY kaz would NEVER' like a total asshole). because i write mostly in an AU things that i pull out of my ass that aren't explicitly mentioned in canon aren't headcanons in my mind, they're just canon to the universe i've created.

i think if i had to say one i would say that the darkling just doesn't listen to music. he has never once considered like...listening to music recreationally. if he is throwing a party and there is music there it is only because socially that is what is expected of him. even if they were in the modern day i can't ever imagine him pulling up spotify and listening to some tunes.

fanfic writer emoji ask

[teriwrites]

Preptober Vol. 1

AKA in which Teri actually talks about writing

Forgive the rambling, it's been a minute since I've actually sat down to write something for tumblr.

It’s that time of year again, when leaves are changing and Spooky Season is in full swing and I realize I need to get myself into shape for NaNoWriMo next month.

This year feels a little different, and I think I've reached a crossroads with my relationship to NaNo. It's year 13 for me, which means officially over half the Novembers of my life will have been spent dedicated to writing stories. And while I absolutely love the tradition, I think I've started looking at it less as a year-by-year event and more how it fits into my life long-term.

Just about every year, I've gone about NaNo in a very traditional way: come up with a story idea, outline it and prep in October, and then write 50K+ words towards that idea in November. And I love doing that, I think I could continue writing that way for a long time.

But where I'm at with my writing, I have less free time and energy to dedicate to it outside of November, so at this point, I'm sitting on a pile of WIPs that I'd love to continue. But with NaNo typically comes an influx of new ideas, and it's all getting a little too crowded in my head to think I can actually hold onto all of them.

This is a very rambley way of saying that I think I need to start looking at NaNo a little differently. Writing new stories every November is fun, but it's a little less exciting now that I've done it 12 times over than when I was just starting out. It's something that's comfortable, I could continue it, but NaNo's role was always to push me to take steps in my writing that I never had the discipline to do myself. And while that used to mean actually plotting and putting words down for ideas that floated around in my head, now I think I'd be better served by using the structure of it to move myself forwards in stories I already have written towards.

All of this to say that I'm stuck between pushing myself to write the second draft of Beyond Alder Creek during November (which will mean a nasty fight against my inner editor but at least will finally be forcing me to work on it) or adding more to my first draft of The Lies in the Legend.

There's also a chance I'll cave and work on a new idea that's been bouncing around my brain for a month or two, but I'm hoping I can hold off on it this year.

I guess we'll see! But I really do need to make a decision soon, either option is going to take a decent amount of prep time lol

tl;dr Teri decides to be a NaNo Rebel and has a Lot of thoughts about it

[gointothevvater]

Kloktober day 24: Ghost story or creepypasta

I've had this idea floating around in my head for a few weeks now, and while the ghosts don't show up in this chapter, I'm using today's theme as an opportunity to at least get this first chapter up! TW for suicide talk.

Shoutout to @dolly-macabre for letting me bounce the idea around!

.

January 7, 1984

Pickles was, regrettably, alive.

The overdose hadn't been a suicide attempt, not really, but it had gotten him thrown into rehab anyway, and the band was suffering for it, and now, six months later, he had nothing to show for it. Getting the booze and the drugs and everything else out of his system had purged him of his songwriting ability, too. He couldn't write sober, but he couldn't not be sober around the boys, because they were trying to get clean, too. It was a goddamn mess.

That was how he had landed here: The Overlook Hotel. It wasn't especially big or especially grand, but it was right on the edge of the Pacific Ocean, and that had to count for something. It was nearly crumbling into said ocean, actually, and it was his job to make sure it didn't go toppling over. It was a pretty building, taller than anything on a beach had any right to be, all made up of rich, dark wood and pale, plush carpets and so much glass that it sent light dancing out over the sand when the sun hit it. It had been here since the 50s, and while it still looked nice, its age was beginning to show. Pickles knew what that felt like.

"You'll need to monitor the pilings," Crozier said as he led Pickles around the outside of the hotel. He was a squat, wide man with an intimidating air about him. Ex-military, Pickles guessed, like his father. He had his eyes squinted against the chilly winter sun and the sand the breeze was kicking up around them, his hands clasped behind his back. The piling he had been talking about looked more like stilts to Pickles, and they elevated the building some seven feet above the water level, but they were looking rough, the metal rusting and caked in salt. "The foundation has been sinking into the sand in recent years," he was saying, "and we need to make sure it's not taking any leaps. You'll need to run the measurements in the morning and the evening, during low tide."

Pickles asked, "How long you think it's got before it totally sinks?"

Crozier hummed, then said, "Ten years ago, the hotel sat thirteen feet higher."

That didn't sound good. Pickles just hoped it didn't all go tumbling into the sea while he was sleeping. He asked, "Anything else I gotta do?" He already knew about the cleaning, but that and watching the stilts couldn't be the extent of his duties, could it? It seemed too good to be true. Yes, he'd come here to try and force out Snakes N' Barrels's next hit, but he'd expected there to be some kind of price to pay for it.

Though Crozier looked like he wanted to keep the information to himself, he said, "The last off-season caretaker took a header off the roof. Try not to do the same."

Pickles said, "I won't." And he wouldn't. There was a song in him that he had to get out, and it wouldn't get there if he was dead. He had four months, until the twentieth of April. That was his birthday. That was his deadline. If the song wasn't out of his brain and on paper by then, he was joining the 27 Club.

[lotsofplanetshaveadeathstar]

Random snippet that's been floating around my head that needs to get out

Some backstory: I do a Goodreads challenge every year and it's always for 100 books. This year, however, I did not read a book basically from mid-September until sometime in November bc I truly did not have time between school, work, and HHN. However, I have a massive curated TBR that I use to request books from the local library/request that the local library buy specific books and deliver them to my house, which I sometimes do weeks/months in advance of those books being released, which is a long-winded way of saying that I still had books being delivered to my house on a weekly (at minimum) basis. So it got to be the second week of December and I needed to read something like 15 books to hit my goal (which I did, and I even got in an extra for 101 total for the year), so I'm speeding through these books as fast as I can, which is fairly easy due to the type of book I usually read (YA romance or thriller with the occasional adult fiction or nonfiction thrown in the mix). However, there was one YA historical fiction that was so well written, especially with how the author handled the romance plot, that it had me *feeling* things (nothing dirty, you pervs). The longing, the denial, the little touches, it all came together to produce a wonderfully bittersweet story that touched my heart and my brain and my soul in such a way that had me longing for a situation of my own (or at least, what I imagine that would look like since I've never had a situation of my own). As a result, there's been a snippet of a story rattling around in my brain, which is something that actually happens somewhat frequently and I always mean to write those snippets down but I never do, so this time, I'm actually going to do it. So without further ado, here's a tiny snippet of a love story, as told from the point of the guy when he realizes he loves the girl next to him:

"Someday, when I'm 85 and can't remember what I had for breakfast or what shirt I wore the day before, I'll still be able to recall the first time I was struck by lightning.

I was sitting on the couch in my apartment watching a movie, something I did fairly frequently. Only this time was different. This time, she was sitting next to me.

The night hadn't started out as anything special. The movie was one we had both seen before, and it was mainly serving as background noise while we scrolled on our phones, alternating showing each other something funny we came across and talking about random nothings. Slowly, our exchanges began to taper off as exhaustion from the long, busy day began to set in. With every blink, my eyes stayed closed longer and longer and eventually stayed closed, until I felt my phone fall out of my hand and land on my knee before sliding to the floor. I began to reach for it when I realized there was something warm on my shoulder. It was heavy too, but in a good way, a solid, comforting warmth. She had fallen asleep and her head was on my shoulder.

For a moment, I just sat there, stunned. No one had ever fallen asleep on me before, although if that were by choice or not, I had no idea. I looked down at her as she slept, her face peaceful and free of stress and just... beautiful. The word appeared in my head as simple as if it had always been there, waiting for me to realize what I'd always known. It felt like the most ordinary revelation, something so profound but also completely normal and accepted.

Without another thought, I lowered my head and gently kissed her forehead just below her soft brown hair. At my touch, she stirred, her features momentarily scrunching and then smoothing again as she lifted her head from my shoulder and blinked, taking in her surroundings and turning her face towards mine. She gave me a tiny smile that seemed to fill her entire face before closing her eyes again and laying her head back on my shoulder, her body snuggling closer now.

That's when I knew - I was in love with her. And the bolt of that realization felt powerful enough to sustain me for the rest of my life, as long as the rest of my life was spent by her side."

Welp, there it is. I have no idea if it's good (I feel like I'm very good at formal writing and stream-of-consciousness word vomit, and less so with construction of narratives and making things sound human) or if anybody will even like it if they ever read it, but it's out there and yeah. Here's hoping that one day, something like this will happen to me (and to you, reader, if you so desire (see, good at the formal)).

[wakeupoldflame]

A self-indulgent rant to get us started

Hi, dear reader (I told you this would be self-indulgent).

As you may have read, I'm Oliver - a 25-year-old writer trying to rekindle my passion for, well... writing.

This silly hobby used to be my one and only respite from a life I really didn't enjoy very much. From the age of about 13 to 16 I wrote nearly every day; I'd boot up MS Word and just throw things at the page, and I really thought I was the next Neil Gaiman or Stephen King or *third go-to talented writer*. Some of my stuff was actually good, if a little derivative, and some of it was over-dramatic rubbish.

The thing is, whatever I wrote was at least mine. I didn't share much of my writing with other people, I just did it because I had a lot of imagination and I wanted to let it out somewhere. I wasn't so wrapped up as I am now in whether or not it was any good, or whether those reading it would agree or disagree, or whether it reflected parts of myself I'd rather not see reflected. It was just fun. Actual, genuine fun.

Then I studied creative writing at university, and then I went into a career as a copywriter and to be honest, it's killed this silly hobby for me a bit. I've turned the passion into work and like everyone said it would - it's turned my passion into work. Nothing I write is mine any more, it all serves a purpose. This story is earmarked for an awareness day; this story is for one of our corporate partners to share with their customers; this story is embargoed until it goes to print in two months. I don't get a byline, I don't get credit. I just work quietly behind the scenes on stories that maybe someone, somewhere down the line will skim as they scroll social media for the third time that day. As long as the folks running our socials have tagged it interestingly enough.

This blog, and my return to tumblr after 10 busy years, will hopefully serve as a way to make some of my writing truly mine again. I won't be doing this kind of post again (hopefully). I'll be sharing creative writing stubs, ideas that have been floating around my brain for months or years but never put to the page. Maybe I'll answer some writing prompts, maybe I'll write about my other hobbies. I just want to be creative again. I want to turn on the spigot and let the words fall out, like I used to. It doesn't have to be good, or shareable, or relatable. I just really want to feel like myself again.

So welcome, and thanks for joining me on this random little adventure. I'll hopefully post again soon, without the weight of the world on my shoulders.

[anyawritesthings]

My NaNoWriMo Takeaway

Intro

Now that Nano is over, I want to take some time to reflect on my experience and share what I've learned and what helped me cross that finish line, as well as updating you guys on what this means for me and my writing journey.

The Numbers

Total Word Count: 51,500 words

Total Page Count: 164 pages

Chapters Completed: 9.5 chapters

Days Spent Writing: 30

Overall Progress: Act one is finished, and I made a little progress on act two. Some of the biggest chunks of writing that I did, though, were backstory, which I'll get into next.

Getting Through Nano

I'm a plotter, so the biggest challenge that I faced this round was not having a completed outline. I know, shocking, but I had only fully outlined act one of this book. Being a full time student with a part time job, it just wasn't possible for me to get the whole outline done in time for Nano. I tried to push myself to get there, but I ended up feeling burntout.

My solution? I didn't write chronologically. I wrote some of act one, then wrote some bits of act two that I had floating around in my brain, but one of the biggest chunks of writing I got done came from writing a ton (and I mean a ton) of backstory. Writing those scenes provided a needed break from the main story and ended up giving me more ideas for the project! This ended up being my lifeline. Without writing backstory, I definitely wouldn't have hit my word count for the month.

Plans for This WIP

For now, I'm putting my first draft on hold while I finish my outline. I want to fully outline book one, as well as do some rough outlining of the next books. Once I have that, I'll finish my dumpster fire of a first draft (hey, any progress is good progress), and for my second draft, my plan is to just start a new google doc and completely rewrite it. I'll probably take some chunks of my first draft that I like and weave those in, but for the most part the first draft will just serve as inspiration/a rough map of where I want my second draft to go! The first draft was a chance to word vomit all of my ideas out on paper, and now that I've done that, I have more room to actually write a cohesive draft of this novel.

Closing Thoughts

Nano was stressful this year, to say that least. Juggling school and work with writing was more difficult than I thought it would be, but I'm glad that I pushed through and got a decent amount of work done! That said, if you didn't reach 50k this year, or didn't complete your word count goal in general, you didn't 'lose' Nano. While I love Nano, their usage of the words 'winning' or 'losing' aren't the most encouraging. Any progress is good progress, and sometimes progress takes time. Even if you got no writing done this month, you and your life and your mental health come first. Regardless of how your writing went, I'm proud of you, and I'm cheering for you all. much love <3

[beyondspaceandstars]

Hi!

I've been reading some of your posts and I am a big fan🥰

I was wondering if its okay, maybe you could do a Loki x reader where they were best friends and denied each others feelings all the time and when Loki was brought to the TVA, he found reader there and lots of angst and fluff🥰💞😁

Have a great day😁😁💞💞🥰🥰

Nothing Gold

Relationship: Loki x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: thank you so much for enjoying me work I am so glad that makes me so happy! thank you so much for the request. I really liked this idea and I think it came out okay - sorry the ending it a bit abrupt! thank you again :)

Masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Loki had to do a full-on, dramatic as hell, double-take while walking through the TVA library. He had come down to look for a variant file but had apparently ended up finding something else. More specifically — someone else.

You. You. You.

You, his best friend. You, the sweet girl he had a never-ending crush on. You, the one who had just gone missing one day.

Loki could never forget. It was like something wouldn’t let him.

He had invited you around the palace for breakfast before you left his chambers for the night. You two had been up late reading together. You frequently popped over, usually claiming to stay for a few hours, just enough for Loki to read to you some verses of a poetry book, but those hours got longer and longer each time.

Next thing you two knew, it was nearly morning and you needed at least a few hours of sleep in your own bed. He had walked you out, asking you to come back for breakfast in a few hours. You happily agreed, giving him a quick hug before parting. Loki didn’t want to let go. He remembered that detail very well. He wanted to pull you back in his chambers, just hold you for hours. Days. Months. Forever. But he didn’t. He let you go, watching as you made your way back to your modest home. He never realized that would be the last time he saw you.

Well, actually, it technically wasn’t. Because he was staring at you right now. You were at a table near the back of the library, head buried in some files but he could still recognize you. Could always point out that lovely, long hair and those soft, gentle hands. You were always a stark contrast against him.

Loki just watched you for a few moments, completely and utterly confused by the situation. The shock was wearing off and now question after question filled his brain. How did you end up here? What had you done? Were you okay? A million thoughts came over him but his legs had their own agenda. The next thing he knew, he was approaching your table. He almost didn’t know how he got there.

He stood opposite of your sitting form. You weren’t noticing him, apparently very invested in the file you were studying. Loki had to admit, that was quite like you. You were always one to get lost in the words, way deeper than he did.

Eventually, Loki cleared his throat, hoping that’d do something. Slowly, you lifted your head, brows furrowed in confusion as you looked at him from head to toe. You didn’t recognize him, Loki could see it in your eyes. He was just a variant turned agent to you. Something in him felt like it was stabbing his heart over and over again.

"Can I help you with something?" You hesitantly asked but your voice was still so sweet and kind, just as Loki remembered. You were far more patient and soft-spoken than he was.

He said your name like it was the greatest plead but you didn’t react. Loki didn’t know what to do then, realizing you were you but you also…weren’t. His face fell.

You were getting uncomfortable. "I-I’m sorry, I’m not sure I know who that is—,"

"You don’t?" Loki couldn’t help the hurtful gasp he let out.

"Sir, I’m sorry…" Your eyes began searching around frantically. Something was going on. You were getting scared, way past uncomfortable. You wouldn’t look at him anymore.

Loki said your name again, much forceful than the last. You jumped. You weren’t directly responding but Loki could see something in your eyes. He said your name again. Then again. Like it was the only thing he knew. Your eyes met one another intensely, hypnotically.

After maybe the sixth time, you snapped. You jumped out of your seat, breathing heavily, scared, surprised. It had all happened too fast Loki was also taken back. You two were more than just staring at each other. Your wide eyes were taking him in.

"Loki?"

He felt so relieved to hear his name just float off your lips. It was as sweet as he remembered. Like a little lullaby. The stabbing in him stopped.

Loki nodded. "It’s me."

"What…" You looked around as if you had no idea where you were. And maybe you didn’t but Loki hadn’t expected your name to just snap you out of it. This opened a lot of questions for him but he didn’t have time. He raised his hand, cutting off your words.

Loki nodded towards one of the bookshelf aisles further away from everyone. You nodded in understanding, following him down the rows.

Once you were a safe distance away, Loki wasted no time collecting you in his arms, his head buried in your shoulder. You were surprised for a moment at the gesture but then you fell into it naturally, like you had just hugged him yesterday. And really that was how it had felt. But Loki knew better. You had been gone for so long…

"Loki," you mumbled his name, your head pressed into his chest. "What is going on?"

Loki stilled. "Why don’t you tell me what you know."

You scoffed, breaking off the hug. You were a sweet one but Loki was no stranger to your tiny temper. You put distance between you two and Loki allowed it despite how much it hurt.

"What I know?" You repeated, folding your arms. "What I know is that I’m standing in a library with you." You looked around at the space, noting an actual lack of real books. "What kind of library is this anyway? How did I—,"

"Do you remember anything before you got here?"

Your gaze dropped as you studied your shoes. They were some nice black flats but Loki knew that wasn’t your style. You were not the business causal type, usually pleased with the feeling of Asgardian silk gowns.

Something was coming to you as you let out a soft gasp. "I was walking home. We-We had just finished a poem written by that Midgardian… Gosh, what was his name? Winter or something—,"

"Frost," Loki mumbled. "His last name was Frost and you enjoyed his poem about how nothing gold can stay. You found it relatable. I’ll admit, you may have been onto something."

A light had gone on within you. "You thought it was pretentious." Your gaze met Loki’s once more. "I called you a fool and laughed. Then we saw daylight breaking and… and I had to go home. I missed my bed. You wanted breakfast in a few hours. I agreed to come back."

Loki nodded, encouragingly, but your words had fallen off. "What happened next?"

You shook your head, that blank expression washed over you again. "I don’t know."

Loki let out a sigh and leaned back on the shelf. "Do you remember anything after that?"

You looked back down at your outfit. At least the pencil skirt was nice. "Yes," you admitted. "I was hired here. I report on variants to protect the sacred timeline." It sounded to Loki like you were reading a script. What the hell was going on here?

"But you don’t know how you got from Asgard to…here?"

You sighed, a bit annoyed. "How did you get here?"

The snippy temper was back. You were still you. Loki could’ve kissed you, a feeling that had come over him before but was suddenly more intense than ever. He would, he promised himself. He couldn’t leave you again without doing so.

"I had a bit of an…incident."

"Really? You? I never would’ve guessed," you said, the sarcasm on your words dripped heavily. Loki gave quite the dramatic eye roll. You let out a little giggle.

"Yes, well, never mind what got me here, I am here," he said, motioning towards nothing. "And I am assisting with the hunt of a variant."

"You’re helping them?"

Loki scoffed. "Don’t act so surprised." A beat. "I didn’t have much of a choice."

You bit your lip, trying to hold back a smile but failed miserably. Loki had missed this. If he focused really hard, it almost felt like you two were back in Asgard, lounging around, talking about nothing. Teasing one another. His heart was aching.

"What do you know about the variant?" You eventually asked.

Loki glanced away. "It’s me."

"You?"

He shrugged. "Well, a version of me. Another variant."

You slowly crossed the aisle, coming to stand right next to Loki, your shoulders pressed against one another. Loki’s breath hitched just a bit. He would never get used to this.

You asked, "Well, what have ‘you’ done?"

Loki resorted back to his witty humor. "Nothing good as you could assume."

"This mischief of two Lokis is unthinkable."

Loki let out a laugh which you followed suit with. You two were laughing over nothing in this random library in wherever this place was. He could barely understand it and you were absolutely clueless. But the moment of laughter was good, was familiar. Too bad it couldn’t last.

"I’ve missed you," Loki admitted after the laughter had faded out unceremoniously. You looked a bit surprised at the confession.

"Truly?"

He nodded.

You blushed and looked down. "I’d say I missed you too but I don’t feel like we’ve been apart. How long has it been?"

When Loki wasn’t giving an answer, you forced yourself to turn back to him. He was staring at you quite intensely. You shivered under the gaze. It was an expression you hadn’t seen before, he hadn’t allowed you to see. It was one full of love and interest and adornment.

"Too long," was all he said before his lips were on yours. Loki finally took what he had been craving and it was happening in the TVA library. The fucking TVA. Loki’s head was still spinning with worries about this whole thing but, slowly, he got lost in you. In your lips and softness. Your hands grasped his shirt as you deepened the kiss — you. You wanted more from him. And he was happy to give.

His hands caressed your sides lovingly, feeling and holding you in the way he had always dreamed. It was better than anything he could’ve conjured. It felt right and real. Good and… Too good. Too powerful.

An alarm was going off somewhere now. You hadn’t seemed to notice it, still captivated in the kiss, but Loki was aware. He forced you two apart, reluctantly. You looked at him, ready to protest, but before you could ask anything, Loki was placing a hand over your mouth.

Footsteps were approaching. They were coming towards your aisle. Whatever had happened here wasn’t good, something had gone haywire. Had he broken the timeline? Was that even possible here? Loki didn’t know but what he did know was there was an army on the hunt for them. Without thinking twice, he grabbed your hand, looking for an escape route.

"Loki," you finally were able to speak, keeping your voice hushed as you two maneuvered the maze of shelves, "what did we do?"

"We love each other."

"Love?"

Loki stopped despite there being no time to stop. "Am I wrong?"

You didn’t answer. That was all he needed. Now to only get the hell out of here. Loki couldn’t tell if his encounter with the TVA had been a blessing or a cure as he held you close to him, refusing to lose you again to whatever trap this place planned to lay.

[astro-rain]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter seventeen - “wouldn’t dream of it”

delicate masterlist

word count: 4.7k

synopsis: reader has a strange dream that ends up bringing on a cascade of various events and feelings.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

A/N: feel free to drop any opinions/thoughts/predictions below (or in my asks if u wanna be anonymous!!)

She would have woken up from a night's sleep saturated with regret... if she had slept a wink. She spent the night tossing and turning, and at about five in the morning, the pursuit of rest was abandoned.

Forcefully and exasperatedly, she sat straight up, glaring at the clock and letting the blanket pool around her waist. Y/N had her weekly meeting with Shuri at nine o'clock... that meant four hours to kill. More like four more hours of trudging through thoughts, memories, questions, and fears surrounding the previous day. Four more hours of ruminating over Bucky Barnes. This seemed to become a reoccurring activity her life.

She stared at the wall, thinking about how before, there was at least the excuse of being drunk: maybe not completely knowing what she was doing, maybe not remembering something correctly. But they were sober this time... she was sober. And what struck her was that, when it happened, when he kissed her, there was no moment of initial startle. There was no surprise jerk back or woah-what-are-you-doing response. Their bodies just fell into form. She just fell into form. Like it was an instinct. Like they were both used to it, and had done it a number of times before.

She wasn't sure what shocked her more: the fact that he kissed her or the fact that she kissed him back. Was he being bold? Or did she lead him on? Had she been leading him on? He wouldn't have done it on his own account, right? She had a degree of difficulty in believing she was wanted. Truly.

She could've sworn that she wasn't this emotionally invested. She could've sworn that if she couldn't control what she was feeling, she could at least control what she was doing. She rubbed her eyes, wondering where she went so wrong. It probably happened at some point during the isolated time she had been spending with Bucky in a secret corner of the world, not minding the least bit that she had been away from home and work for months whilst working on a project hardly anyone else was even aware of.

Even with all this in mind, she didn't seem to care. She didn't really mind that she hadn't been home in ages, it didn't really bother her that she might be in trouble when she gets back for helping enemy of the state Sharon Carter, runaway fugitive Steve Rogers, or war criminal James Buchanan Barnes. Because every time she thought about the consequences, it just didn't seem to matter more than what was keeping her in Wakanda... Besides, she guessed Bucky would probably be pardoned and after everything settled down, who would pay any attention to her? It's not like she mattered in the grand scheme.

As soon as that very thought arose, she could hear Bucky's voice scolding her in the back of her head. Why was he always there?

Frustrated, she groaned into the air in front of her. Her feelings were so confusing, she wasn't even sure what exactly it was she felt towards Bucky. On one hand, she felt fiercely protective over him: she'd go down fighting before she'd let anyone lay a hand on him, prepared to stay in his corner forever, ready on defense.

But at the same time, she felt this ineffable sense of warmth for him. Like one look at the way his eyes crinkle when he smiled, and she'd turn soft as water. Like being in his vicinity smoothed out the rough around her edges.

And if all this wasn't enough, now she had been touched by him, she had felt his lips and the gentleness in his skin. This brought a cascade of new feelings, ones she knew she had to hide. It... was definitely a problem. She knew, don't get her wrong, she knew it was a problem. As much as she understood this irrefutable fact, the numbness in her lips just wouldn't go away. He had remained with her even hours later. She couldn't get rid of his heartbeat; it was still in her hand. She could still feel him.

Basically, she knew this most recent development was an issue. She knew it was bad, wrong, worrisome, and whatever else. And knowing this, recognizing the very hot water she was in, the only thing she could focus on was trying to ignore the recurrent desire to be near him, to find him and be close to him.

"Fuck."

She plopped back down on her back and elected to cast a burning glare at the ceiling until she had to get ready for her meeting.

—

"I think it might be too hot for this," she complained with a smile on her face.

"It was your idea," he said, a few steps ahead of her, "and we're almost there, so buck up."

She laughed. He smiled at the sound.

"What?" he asked.

"You said buck up. Like Buck... Bucky. Like you."

He just looked at her, amused. Sun kissed and happy.

"It's fitting," she shrugged, grinning.

"Guess so. Hurry up, slow poke. You're gonna fall behind."

"I'm already behind," she huffed . "Your super soldier legs are too fast for me."

"Well," he stopped short and she finally caught up, standing right beside him, "we're here. So worry not."

He looked over at her to find her already looking at him. Funny how their eyes always found each other like that.

"What?" he asked again, not able to help how the corners of his mouth turned up just slightly.

"Nothin.’ Everything," she shrugged. "You."

Perhaps she just liked looking at him. Him and his long hair and light eyes. Was that such a crime? His skin looked caramelized under the sun. She wanted to reach out and touch him.

"You're a real peach, y'know that?" he smirked.

She looked away, pretending to find the grass around them spectacularly interesting while hiding a dopey smile at his compliment.

"Hey, doll face. I'm a lot more fun than the grass, I swear," he teased. "Lemme see my favorite face."

"Hold on." She got an idea.

She reached down beside her and plucked a flower from the soil.

"A little hibiscus," she smiled, tucking the small flower behind his ear. God, he was just so pretty.

She stood back, satisfied with her decor. She sighed, content. How couldn't she be? She was looking at two of the most beautiful things. Flowers and Bucky.

As soon as it was securely in place, Bucky bent down to pick the hibiscus that sat right next to the one Y/N chose. Mirroring her actions, he placed it behind her ear.

"A little hibiscus," he repeated fondly, "for a real peach!"

She didn't dare try to hide the next dopey grin while taking in the sight before her, of Bucky beaming in the sunlight with a flower in his hair. Looking at this, she understood why mankind began to paint. Why there needed to be someway to capture something as precious as this, some method of preserving something so idyllic and beautiful and pure and perfect.

Perfect like the cool, fresh water of the lake. Their lake. Their place. The flowing, breathing water she felt around her waist. They floated around, her and Bucky, as light as air in that lake.

The two were weightless, adoration suspended in animation. The water preserved the feeling of feather light kisses and chests pressed together and hands beginning to roam. If only she could be closer to him. Her fingers in his hair and his palms on either side of her face wasn't enough. She needed more. More, more, more of him.

Skin is so soft and the sun is so warm and soon enough, the water was up to her shoulders as his arms ran up her back. Arms plural, she noticed. He held her with both, protectively enclosing the longing feeling between them.

"Oh, fucking hell!" Y/N sprang up, throwing the blanket off of her.

She must've fallen asleep... and began to dream... She could imagine if her brain was a person, it'd be laughing at her for that.

Why? Why? What was the reason for this? There was no point! How frustrating! How embarrassing that her mind betrayed her with dreams of him.

"God damn it," she swore under her breath.

She wanted to angrily shake her fist in the air like vengeful cartoon character, as she got out of bed and headed towards her wardrobe.

It was 8 a.m. One hour until her meeting with Shuri. She would spend the time changing her outfit until it was distracting enough to draw her attention away from thoughts of that damn lake... and his damn hands...

—

"My friend!" Shuri greeted in her usual upbeat manner. "How are you? How are things?"

There was absolutely no way to answer this honestly.

"I'm doin' well. Same old, same old. How 'bout you?"

"Good as always," she smiled. "Thank you."

Y/N took a seat at one of the tables in Shuri's lab. "So how is T'Challa doing with Nakia?"

"Oh, who knows these days! He is so awkward, I have no idea!"

They both laughed. Y/N was glad she and Shuri were able to talk like this. They weren't just robotic colleagues who only communicated when they needed to. They were partners, and they worked well together.

The meeting commenced like it did every other week. Updates on Bucky's progress, new ideas or adjustments to treatment or planning, going over scans or data, you name it. But this time, she had something else in mind. Something that a dream reminded her of. She had mentioned maybe getting her hands on a prosthetic for Bucky. She wasn’t familiar with the prosthetics industry in Wakanda, but they could probably make something work.

Was that too much? Did she care too much? Was she showing too much regard for him? Was this too much to ask of her?

"Hey, remember a couple weeks ago when I talked about prosthetics?"

"Of course," Shuri smiled. She genuinely enjoyed her partner - her partner who was intelligent, confident, and articulate but still sometimes sounded shy. "You wanna see what I've been working on?"

"You... you ordered one? I didn't-"

"Oh, no. Not ordered. Just you wait," she said, pulling out a drawer to dig amongst papers. "I've been workin' my magic."

Shuri pulled out a manilla folder that had W.W. - Proj. 1 printed on it.

She dropped the folder in front of the psychologist who sat across from her, gesturing for her to look through it. Y/N opened it to see several pages of prosthetics research, information on cybernetics and various designs for a bionic arm.

"Oh... wow." Y/N marveled.

"What do you think?"

"It's incredible," Y/N shook her head. "I didn't- ... I thought you meant you bought one or something. I didn't know you designed one"

"I didn't just design it. I made it."

"You- what?"

"Yep. First model ready for use. Do you want to see it?"

"I'd love to."

Shuri walked her over to a large, rectangular case in the side of the lab.

"Holy shit," she let slip.

The arm was astounding: a glossy black with ridges etched in a shiny gold. It glimmered, sitting in its casing.

Shuri laughed. Thank you."

"Sorry. Excuse my French. This is... remarkable. Can I give it to him?"

"I suppose so. It hasn't got much use just sitting in my lab."

Excitement grew in her chest. Bucky would be able to have an arm he was in control of, one that wasn't forcefully attached to him and used as a weapon. In a way, he would be gaining a sense of autonomy. God, she wanted to see him right away and tell him the news. She was happy to make Bucky happy.

"Oh," Shuri perked her head up. "And there was something else I wanted to talk to you about."

"Yeah, what's up?"

"You're aware of the trigger words, correct?"

"Of course."

"I'm close to fully deconstructing the mind control, but there's no way to know for sure unless we test it out..."

Oh. The excitement dissipated and her stomach dropped. She didn't mean...

"You don't mean..."

"The effect and response of the words needs to be tested on him."

Oh God. There was no way this would be easy.

"And you need to be the one to do it."

Fuck.

"Me?" she tried to hide her shock, her worry, her now overwhelming urge to protect him. "How come?"

"It seems like he trusts you most out of everyone here. I consulted with the Doras about safety and we think that if something were to go wrong, it'd be safest to happen with you. Of course they'll be nearby, but you'd be the one mostly likely to be able to control him in that state."

Her mouth went dry. Control him? She could never. She would never. She knew, in depth, the anguish he carried in his bones as a result of being trapped as a weapon wielded by other people. The thought of her controlling him made her skin crawl.

She knew how much he feared the Winter Soldier and how he would hate losing touch with himself again. He's been free from this kind of violation for a while now; she had very much rather not take that freedom away.

At the same time, she understood how this test was necessary for a full recovery and rehabilitation. And who knows if the words will even work? Maybe she'll say them and nothing will even happen.

He would have to get over this obstacle in order to make it to the other side clean. She could only imagine how scary this would be for him. But she'd be damned if she wasn't going to be right there with him.

"Okay," she said dryly. "When... when are we gonna do this?"

"Not yet but soon. I'll keep you updated."

The rest of the meeting carried on as usual, but Y/N might as well have not even been there. Her mind was off. Off somewhere trying to think of how to tell Bucky the news. The very last thing in the world she wanted to do was hurt him. She'd take his place if she could.

—

As soon as she was free from the calm, professional facade she had going with Shuri, she found herself speed walking back to where Bucky was. She needed to get to him. Now.

When his hut was in sight, she was nervous. She was nervous before, she supposed. She just wanted everything to be okay.

"Buck," she called, a few steps away from the entryway. "I need to talk to you!"

When she stepped inside she froze in place, staring blankly at the two super soldiers in front of her instead of the one she expected. Two as in Bucky and Steve.

"Y/N," Bucky stood up. He sounded surprised.

"Oh-uh," she stuttered. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. I can come back later."

"That's okay," Steve's voice was gentle. "I'll leave you... to it."

Steve threw Bucky a look she couldn't quite decipher before he left. Bucky just looked panicked.

And soon enough they were alone. They stood directly in front of each other, but with a noticeably awkward amount of space between them. The tiny part of her brain that was still mulling over the dream wanted him closer.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hey..."

"You wanted to talk?"

"Yeah," she breathed. "It's uh... there's kind of a lot."

"Look, about yesterday, I-"

Oh. She completely forgot about that. Well, not completely. There was no way she could forget that. But, at the moment there were more pressing matters on her mind.

"It's not about yesterday."

"It's...not?"

"No. I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?"

"Uh... bad news?"

She took a steady breath in. She wasn't sure exactly how to tell him, she just knew he needed to know. He deserved nothing but the truth.

"So, I was just with Shuri and we discussed the next step in your treatment..."

He said nothing, waiting for the aforementioned "bad news." She continued.

"Apparently, we have to test the trigger words on you..."

His expression dropped and she watched all the color drain from his face.

"I know. I'm sorry. I don't wanna do it, but we have to do it to see if it's really outta your head."

"Yeah, that's the problem," he finally spoke. "What if it's not? Then I hurt someone - or multiple people. There's gotta be some other way to test it."

"You're not going to hurt anyone. Or multiple people."

"How can you say that?"

"It's just gonna be the two of us."

"What?!"

"Shuri thought the safest way of doing this was for me to conduct the test. That way, if things ever got out of hand, which is very unlikely to happen, I'd be the best bet at... handling... that situation. Since you know me the best."

"No way. There's no way. I thought you meant they were gonna strap me down and have some lab tech read them. This is way too unsafe-"

"Strap you down? Bucky, no-"

He still saw himself as an animal that needed to be contained. Muzzled.

"What if I hurt you?" his voice shook just a little.

The fear in his eyes was potent. It made her angry. Angry at Hydra and whoever the fuck else had a hand in this sin against the kind and gentle man who stood before her. The man who was genuinely scared of himself. How dare they make him feel so unsafe within his own mind, within his own body. All she wanted to do was make it better, and suddenly, she could no longer stand for the distance between them. She stepped forward and grasped his hand between both of hers.

"I trust you, Buck," she smiled a small but earnest smile, letting him know that she truly was here for him. "Entirely. I promise. Okay?"

He nodded, still reluctant and entirely scared.

"Do you trust me?" she asked.

"I do. I trust you, I do," he cast his glance downwards, almost in shame. "It's myself I don't trust."

Her chest twisted with an emotion difficult to place. Mostly, it was the desire to take every ounce of pain away. She wished she could just snap her fingers and make it fade into nothing.

"That's okay," she said.

He looked back up at her, confused.

"You don't have to trust yourself. That's hard enough as it is and Hydra didn't make it any easier. You just trust me, alright? I'm the one reading the words, so, even though I'd hate it, if you were to be... activated... you'd be listening to me not trying to fight me," she squeezed his hand. "And I will not let anything happen to you."

"I'm not worried about me..."

She knew. She was not stupid; she knew that Bucky was separate from the Winter Soldier and that theoretically, the Winter Soldier - and only the Winter Soldier - had the potential to hurt her. She wasn't blind to the dangers, but she also wasn't blind to the fact that there was no exact science to brainwashing. Whos to say nothing could ever seep through the programming? She knew what happened with Bucky when he was forced to fight Steve for the first time. How it changed him.

Even though the Winter Soldier was in there, there was more of Bucky. She knew that for sure. And she needed to make sure he knew one thing: even if the Winter Soldier was trying to claw his way back and entire world was against him, she saw Bucky and trusted Bucky and believed in Bucky. She was a constant. And she wouldn’t give up on him.

"What, you're worried about me?" she joked, lightheartedly. She took the hand she was holding and pressed it against her cheek. "This wouldn't hurt me, James Buchanan."

He sighed, feeling the warmth from her face. He did not deserve this kindness and he definitely did not trust himself despite her trust in him. Of course Bucky would never hurt her. But Bucky wasn't the Winter Soldier. And he didn't have the heart to tell her what the Winter Soldier could or would do. He didn't have the stomach to even think about what would happen if the Winter Soldier actually did something.

But there was something about the way she believed in him, the way her conviction was so strong. It made him almost start to doubt these feelings. He could never be sure of everything being okay, but at least he could be sure of her.

"Okay," he whispered.

"Okay?"

"I'll do it."

"Alright," she smiled.

She removed his hand from her face, but still held onto it.

"And even if you did try to fight me, I think I could go a couple rounds in the ring with the Winter Soldier. I'm big and tough."

They both laughed knowing she had very minimal fight training.

"You'd definitely kick my ass," Bucky chuckled.

She just smiled. And then her eyes grew wide.

"Oh! You wanna know the good news?"

"F'course."

Bucky watched her briefly disappear through the entryway before returning with a big, rectangular case. He raised an eyebrow.

"That's good news? What is it, a bomb?"

"I don't do bombs... arson only."

The look on his face made her wonder if he actually questioned whether or not she was serious. She fought laughter as she opened the case. It was silent for a moment. Y/N looked at him, waiting for a reaction.

"Is that... for me?"

"All yours, Buck. A favor I asked of Shuri."

She told him about the arm. Told him about Shuri's design, and the features and functionality. She didn't mention what made her think to ask Shuri, but that surely wasn't important.

"It's really cool, and like super sleek and badass. But more importantly, it will make you feel more... I don't wanna say regular 'cause nothing about you is regular," a shy smile slipped. "But more... how you're used to having your body feel and function."

"That's..." he shook his head before looking up and making dauntingly deliberate eye contact. "Thank you. For thinkin' of me. I mean it. I hope it wasn't too much trouble for her to make it."

"Nothin's too much trouble, Bucky. You're worth it."

"You're a real peach, y’know that?"

Suddenly she looked abashed. Did he say something wrong?

"Sorry- I didn't-"

"No, it's okay. I just got a weird sense of déjà vu. Don't worry about it."

He looked at her like he didn't quite believe her, but she tried not to think too hard about it.

"So..." Bucky gestured towards the arm. "...what do we do with this?"

"You wanna try it on?"

His brows shot up. "Oh! I mean- sure- I guess so, yeah."

She tried to pick it up and nearly threw her back out. "Jesus!"

"Woah there, tiger," he withheld a laugh, putting a hand under the vibranium arm to hold most of its weight.

"Okay, sit down," she ordered, both of them fumbling to hold onto the arm. "Shuri told me how to get the arm on. There's some... magnetic thing. I don't even know - it was some complex engineering lingo. Not my field."

After a couple minutes, clumsy hands attempting awkward assembly, and several curse words later... the arm was attached. They both stood as Bucky stuck out the bionic arm, admiring it and Y/N leaned back, admiring him. Wow.

Bucky smiled, holding both his forearms out - palms facing up - to see how they moved. "This is incredible."

He turned to her. "You're incredible. Thank you."

"No problem at all," she stepped forward. "How does it feel?"

Her hands found their way below his, cupping the underneath of them with a feather light touch. "How do you feel?"

"More... balanced," he laughed. "Coordinated?"

"Steady?"

"Absolutely."

"Stronger?"

"Definitely."

She looked up at him. "Confident? More comfortable in your own skin? That's what's most important."

He gripped her hands. "For sure. Thanks to you."

"Glad I could help. Just wanna make you feel more like yourself, you know?"

"I feel the most like myself when I'm with you," he nearly whispered.

He smiled, and then did something... unexpected. He let go of one of her hands and with the other, he twirled her around as if they were dancing. She went along with the movement, body falling in sync it even though she was confused.

"You make me wanna dance again."

With his voice so endearing, and his heart so spirited, the world around them fell quiet. She stepped forward and rested her hand on his shoulder. Then she placed one of his hands on her waist, and held the other out to the side, fingers intertwined with hers. And oh, the feeling of his hands on her; it was nearly overwhelming.

"Then dance."

And they swayed. They swayed to nothing, to the sweet sound of finding comfort in another person. She let her eyes flutter shut, allowed her guard to come down for just a moment. Just this moment. With him.

Bucky broke the silence with a shy question. "So yesterday... what does that mean for-"

"Let's just keep it between us."

"What do you mean?"

"It was a moment - like this one. I think I think too much, and I may have overreacted before. It doesn't have to be some cumbersome ordeal. It's just us."

"We're good then?"

"We're good."

"Good. 'Cause I like this."

She inhaled and smiled at the feeling of him inside her lungs. They continued swaying as they continued talking.

"You were in my dream you know?"

"Was I?"

"You were."

"Could I fly?"

"No," she laughed. "You were - well we, actually, were walking to that lake."

"To swim?"

Not exactly...

"I don't know. It's kinda foggy and didn't make much sense since it was a dream but we were definitely there."

"Did I say anything existentially insightful?" he joked.

"I don't remember much of what we said, but I remember how it felt."

"How... how did it feel?"

There she went again. She could feel herself slipping, but found it hard to care. She closed her eyes, thinking back to hibiscuses and Bucky's arms.

"The water and sun on my skin felt kind of like this," her hands ran up his sides dangerously slow and settled behind his neck, finger tips tangling into the ends of his hair.

His breath faltered. "Is that so?"

Unconsciously, his other hand found her waist and somehow the little space between them grew even smaller.

"Mhm," she hummed. "and the sight of a flower in your hair felt kind of like this."

Her hands moved to cup his face, the soft skin of her palm settling on his jawline.

"It was so pretty," she sighed.

"Yeah... pretty," he agreed. But he wasn't talking about the dream or the flower.

"And... your arms and your hands... felt kind of like this."

Gently, she pulled his face down to hers, though he needed no guidance or encouragement. When their lips met, that feelings of incompletion and longing, which had been prickling the back of her mind since the previous day, finally went away. They dissolved into fingers pressing into her hips, soft stubble tickling her cheek, and the delightfully encompassing presence of him.

She wasn't sure how long it was until they separated and words were spoken again. All she really recognized what that she was out of breath.

"And to think I was going to apologize for yesterday," Bucky smirked.

"I had to return the favor."

"And I gotta make up for lost time"

"Well, please don't let me stop you."

And he didn't. They continued right where they left off, except this time, it felt much too similar to something she had felt before. Hands began to roam just like they did in her dream.

The only thing was, her dream was cut short. She had no idea how it ended. But his hands were everywhere and it was all her senses could register. He was everywhere: her lips, her neck, her collar bones. She was burning.

The air ran out of her chest, and her voice was barely a breathy sigh. "Don't stop."

She could feel his smile on her skin. "Wouldn't dream of it."

-

The next morning, she awoke entwined in his arms - both of them.

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