#in my brain these outfits Do Not work but somehow they both look so good in them

[worstlovesong]

Here yah go~~ also Sarah

Theee cutest photo to ever exist fr I love them

[l0vergirlsw0rld]

my little voyeur

neighbour!loganxvoyeur!reader

a/n: so sorry about the hiatus, started university and midterms are already here, crazy. anyway, enjoy this little idea i had, inspired by a real life situation. xox

wc:3.1k

MDNI !!! 18+, AGE GAP, SEXUAL CONTENT, ALCOHOL USE

summary: Y/N is growing needier with every one-night stand her hot neighbour brings over, one night she decides to be his next.

"-Oh fuck, keep going!" A muffled voice cried between the rhythmic thumping noises that came from the ceiling above you.

You bit down on your lip, shifting needily on your sofa. 

"Here we go again" You mumbled to yourself, glancing at the clock on your microwave.

8:37 PM. 

"Earlier than usual... Do you have to be somewhere early tomorrow?" You pressed the mute button on your TV remote to get a better listen.

The intrigue in your neighbour's activity had been a shameful recent development. He'd have company over almost every night now; which meant constant, rough sex.

The shared two-story house was old, and the walls were poorly insulated, which surely didn't aid your newfound obsession. Your unit was the basement suite: a homely one-bedroom, one-bathroom with a large kitchenette and living room. Even though you both lived in the same quarters, you both had your own respective spaces and entrances, which meant you rarely crossed paths. 

You knew little about the man upstairs, only that he lived alone, wasn't the talkative type, and rode a Harley Davidson that was equally as loud as his one-night stands.

Though it was ill-mannered of him to be as careless as he was, you couldn't stop yourself from being attracted to him. He might've had a good twenty years on you, but that didn't matter in this case. 

The man was in phenomenal shape for his age; You had come home one day to him working on his bike, shirtless. His physique was composed of thick broad shoulders that counterbalanced his narrow waist and muscular biceps that bulged beneath his skin, flowing seamlessly into veiny forearms. Dark curls of hair stretched downwards from his brawny chest, over his chiselled abs and disappeared into the denim waistband of his wranglers. 

To pair with that irresistible body, was a charmingly rugged face. Thick, untamed eyebrows cast a shadow over his piercing hazel eyes, while dense sideburns traced the sharp angles of his jawline. His short, spiked hair flared into two distinct tufts on either side of his head, adding to his wild, primal look.

"-Logan! I'm coming!" The voice screamed. Since this all began, you found yourself feeling rather bitter. Not only was it rude and annoying but from what you managed to pick up, most nights they would be playing out the very type of fantasies you'd always had but never got the chance to experience.

You let out a heavy sigh, feeling that excitement slowly pool in your lower stomach. You knew this would end soon, Logan seemed to have quite the routine, so your impending neediness wouldn't go any farther. 

His partners were usually dead silent for the rest of the night, presumably busy sleeping off the intense sex, which made the inconvenience somewhat tolerable. The only time they would potentially disturb you again was as they made their exit down the stairs the morning after. You could catch glimpses of them as they passed in front of your kitchen window, usually around the time you'd be having your coffee. 

From the looks of it, he had a type: girls your age. They'd always be dressed in last night's skimpy outfit, with knotted hair, but somehow still looked gorgeous. As they stumble their way to the taxi at the edge of the driveway. You'd observe them closer pressing up the glass, often spiking your jealousy.  

The first few you had laid eyes on made you snicker a jaded"How original."  But you were well used to it by now. 

Logan was your typical walking mid-life crisis; Bringing home adventurous young women, fucking their brains out, sending them away in a yellow chariot and never talking to them again. From the frequency of these one-night stands it looked as if he was trying to satisfy a hunger he couldn't seem to fulfill. Almost like preparing for hibernation.

 He was living the bachelor life that men his age could only dream of having, but there was something about the whole routine that felt...off. It was as if every conquest left him more empty, more distant and detached from everything and everyone around him. It wasn't just women that Logan indulged in, he was also a heavy drinker. You could tell by the recycling bin, always overflowing with liquor bottles, and the fact that the few times you'd been to The Black Lodge—the only bar in small-town Burns, Alaska—you had seen him there

You watched from your bar stool, careful to remain unnoticed. The brief exchanges between him and the bartender made it clear he was a regular—no need for small talk, just an easy, practiced silence. Logan's eyes, however, never lingered on the glass of neat whiskey in front of him. Instead, his gaze swept over the crowd, scanning for his next target, his posture relaxed but predatory. Despite his intimidating exterior, there was something magnetic about the way he worked the room, luring them in with lustful glances. He wasn’t just playing the game—he was built to win.

His trophy shelf was overflowing, yet there was no trace of happiness in Logan’s eyes.

You couldn’t help but wonder if this was the Logan everyone else saw—rough around the edges, careless, chewing through women and booze as if they were nothing more than fleeting distractions. Or was there something deeper, a hidden tenderness that only emerged behind closed doors? He never had family or friends over, just a revolving door of women. His life seemed lonely, private, and it made you wonder what demons gnawed at him when the nights grew quiet and the distractions faded away.

Was it trauma? 

Regret?

Or just the inevitable realization that his time was running out?

A part of you cared and wanted to be there for him, but it wasn't as simple as ringing his doorbell, he was unapproachable. During the few interactions you shared, he made it unmistakably clear that he had no interest in forming any kind of relationship with you. His responses were dry and curt, laced with a dismissive tone that cut down any hope of connection. Each word felt like a brick wall being built between you. He practically didn't look at you the entire time, keeping his eyes focused everywhere else but on yours. You couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment with every exchange, it was as if he was purposefully keeping you at arm's length.

Through your confusion, you understood why. You weren't what he was interested in, you couldn't contribute to his unfaltering hunger. You were more than happy to not be categorized with what he'd bring home from the bar, but a slight part of you wished that for one night, you would be. 

The selections were slim in Burns and you were newer to the area, which made it impossible to call for a late-night booty call, unlike him. It had been a long time since you'd last been with someone and the constant exposure to Logan's fruitful sex life made you grow needier by the day, which is where your obsession initially formed.

It began with something small, almost too innocent to notice. You found yourself paying closer attention to his everyday routine, drawn by curiosity. You’d glance out the window to check if his motorcycle was parked in the yard, and when you heard the faint sound of his footsteps starting the day, you’d instinctively check the clock taking mental notes of his wake-up times.

Before you knew it, your interest had evolved into something deeper, something far more personal. You began noticing his trash in your shared waste bin; discarded remnants of his life blending into your obsession. At the liquor store, you found yourself buying the same brand of beer he preferred, curious to experience the taste that would linger on his lips if you kissed him. At the supermarket, you began to choose the same detergent, not for practical reasons, but to breathe in the scent that clung to his skin.

There was a day that he left his Johnny Cash shirt outside. He tossed it on the ground carelessly after working up a sweat while fixing something in the yard. When he left, you ran out and took it. As your compulsion grew, so did your need for closeness to him. The shirt became more than just a relic of him—it was a trigger. 

You began wearing it late at night, feeling its used fabric against your skin. While the sounds of him having sex filtered through the thin walls. The rhythmic creaking of his bed upstairs, the faint moans, you’d inhale it deeply, lost in his scent. You'd thrust your fingers deep inside of you, following along with his rhythm, imagining it was him inside you—picturing how Logan would take control, filling you with the intensity you longed for. In those moments, it was as if he belonged to you, even if just in fantasy.

Your cheeks flushed red as you listened along, It was become too much to handle. You unmuted your episode and got up, needing to find some distraction. 

"It’s almost over," you told yourself, trying to ignore the urge to grab his shirt and take care of things right then and there. Instead, you walked over to the unpacked boxes in the corner of your living room, hoping to find a distraction.

As you opened the cardboard, you started sifting through the mismatched stuff crammed inside. Your fingers brushed against something soft and bristly, sparking your curiosity. You tightened your grip and pulled it out for a better look. To your surprise, it was an old wig from a Halloween costume—vivid and wild, a memory you had almost forgotten.

The faint sounds you were trying so hard to ignore managed to slip through anyway, sparking a devilish idea as you twirled the wig in your hands. You were going to get his attention, whether he liked it or not. A mischievous grin spread across your face; this could be your way in. It was time to shake things up and show him a side of you he hadn’t seen yet. 

It was the next day, and you knew for sure that Logan would be at that bar, just like he was every Thursday. You stepped inside, adjusting the wig discreetly, tucking away any hint of your natural colour, determined to become someone new for the night. This was a wild idea, but desperate times called for bold measures. You were dying for some relief and he was the only remedy for this ache you couldn’t shake.

The bar buzzed with energy, a lively crowd which meant you had competition. But tonight, you were set on one thing: going home with him, and anyone else.

You’d dressed the part—skin exposed, tight-fitting clothes that hugged your curves just right, making you feel both powerful and vulnerable at the same time. 

You scanned the bar, your heart racing as you spotted him in his usual seat. The moment you walked in, his eyes locked onto you, holding your attention captive. You averted your gaze and took a shaky breath, your feet guiding you across the room, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

Pretending not to notice his gaze, you played coy, an enticing smile dancing on your lips. You slid into the seat across from him and reached for the black menu that lay before you, feigning interest in the options. Your eyes traced the words, but your mind was elsewhere—focused on the weight of his stare and the electric tension building between you.

The bartender approached, and you quickly ordered the first thing your eyes landed on, feeling a rush of nerves. You folded the menu neatly, deliberately turning your attention to the crowd, avoiding his gaze, you weren't playing his game, you were playing yours. The thrill of the chase sent a shiver down your spine. The bar chattered around you, laughter and conversation creating a lively backdrop as you focused on maintaining an air of nonchalance, even as you could feel his eyes on you, studying you with that intensity.

A beautiful stemmed glass slid in front of you, snapping your attention to your hands. You mumbled a thankyou and you took a sip, savouring the sweet burn as it slid down your throat. It gave you a moment to gather your thoughts. Just as you were about to steal a glance his way, you noticed from your peripheral that he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips. That confident look told you he knew exactly what you were doing.

"Nice wig," he said, his voice low and smooth, cutting through the noise of the bar like a knife. The compliment sent a rush of heat to your cheeks, but you kept your expression cool, shooting him a sidelong glance as if you were just as unfazed by him.

“Thanks,” you replied, forcing a casual tone. “Just thought I’d switch things up a bit.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. The game was on, and you were ready to play.

Logan leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “It suits you, it's different.”

You felt a thrill at his words, the compliment warming you in ways you hadn’t anticipated. You kept your composure, but inside, your heart raced. “I like keeping things interesting,” you replied, matching his playful tone.

The atmosphere around you shifted slightly, the crowd fading into the background as you locked eyes again. The moment felt charged, filled with unspoken possibilities. You could sense the magnetic pull between you intensifying, and it was exhilarating.

He took a sip of his drink, never breaking eye contact. “Well, you're doing a good job of doing that."

You smiled, feeling a rush of confidence. “It's just a little bit of fun for a Thursday night. What about you? Same old routine, I bet?”

His smirk widened a glint of challenge in his eyes. “You could say that. But maybe I’m looking for something different tonight.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through you. This was the moment you’d been waiting for. You leaned forward, pushing your breasts together. “Well, that's hard to imagine. What’s your idea of different?”

 Logan’s eyes dropped to your cleavage. “How about we take this conversation somewhere a little more private?” His voice was low, rich with promise, and it sent a jolt of anticipation through you.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning casualness even as your heart raced. "And where would that be?”

He chuckled softly, a deep, rich sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “How about the upstairs at your place?”

The two of you made your way up the narrow staircase, the familiar creak of the wooden steps echoed in the silence. You could feel the heat radiating off him, each step heightening the anticipation of what was to come. You both reached his door, and his keys jingled as he unlocked it.

The door swung open, and you stepped inside as he held the door open for you. The soft light from his living room illuminated the space, casting warm shadows that danced along the walls. The place was surprisingly tidy, with the scent of cedar and booze lingering in the air.

Logan followed you in, closing the door behind him with a deliberate click that sent a thrill down your spine. “Welcome to my humble abode,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

You didn't know what you expected but it wasn't this. You took in the details of his space—artwork hung at odd angles, a well-worn couch sat invitingly in the center, and an empty whiskey glass perched on the coffee table. It was comfortable, lived-in, and spoke to the kind of man he was.

“Nice place,” you said, trying to sound casual, but your pulse quickened as you caught the intensity of his gaze. A beat passed.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, a hint of seriousness threading through his playful tone.

Your heart raced at the implication of his question. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” you replied biting your lip,  voice steady from a boldness surging through you.

Logan smirked, his expression shifting from playful to something more primal and dark. 

“Good. Because I don’t plan on holding back. Gotta teach you a lesson after all,”

Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, backing you against the wall with a firm press of his body. The warmth of him enveloped you, and you felt your breath hitch as he leaned in, his lips hovering just inches from yours. As he grabbed your face, his calloused fingers dug into your cheeks roughly, parting your lips open.

“I know you took my shirt, you fucking freak,” he murmured, his voice thick and husky.

You were unable to form words as you felt the threat of what was to come flood your senses. Your heartbeat stammered in your rib cage, fear overcoming you but there was a thrilling undercurrent of excitement that was hard to ignore. Logan’s intense gaze held you captive, and the edge in his voice sent the tension crackling in the air between you.

“You didn’t think I’d notice?” he continued, a low chuckle escaping his lips, laced with a hint of danger. “A man owns about three good shirts and is bound to notice when one goes missing.” His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, making your breath hitch again, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond.

“You’ve been watching me,” he stated, his voice dropping even lower. “Spying on me like some lovesick teenager. It’s cute, but it’s also… a little sick.” The intensity in his gaze softened slightly, a flicker of something deeper behind his fierce exterior.

You swallowed hard, the words caught in your throat. “I—”

“Save it,” he interrupted, his grip tightening around your jaw just enough to keep your attention focused on him. “Don't give me excuses. Tell me why.”

The question hung in the air, heavy and charged. What could you possibly say that would explain the tangled web of emotions and desires that had led you here? His proximity was intoxicating, and the conflict between fear and yearning made your head spin.

“I... I just wanted to understand you,” you finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper. “I hear you with the women you bring home... and I want that. ”

Logan's smile grows somehow even darker. "So ya' got all dressed up for me because you want me to fuck you like I do with the others? That right, sweetheart?" 

The only thing you could do at this moment was give him an eager nod, the ache between your legs growing shamefully larger by the second. 

“I’ll give you what you want kid', but you need to know something first.” He paused slightly, the air between you thick with tension. 

“I’m the best at what I do, and I don’t do it very nicely.”

cliff hanger I know, but i'm such a slut for teasing.

🏷️: @back2thebasics , @spookyfunhottub, @lanassmarty, @hypermarvellove, @kbear8863

If you'd like to join my tagged list and be notified whenever I post new content, click ->-> HERE<-<-, instructions will follow.

->->masterlist<-<-

[stuffeddeer]

imagine mistaking beastzai as your usual dazai (you thought he wanted to be emo for a day) and like did usual silly cute things with him then dazai came home and he’s like HUH WHO IS THIS GUY R U CHEATING ON ME :(( but in the end you have… double boyfriends but one’s moody and one’s fucking annoying

anons that think alike omg telepathy … use ur powers for good!!! two asks in one btw i feel so productive

alsooo beast!dazai would be giddy like a child to be in the main tl w his love… he’d be twirling you around and enjoying what could’ve been before he has to go back!!! all dazais are cringy and in love w u it's true they told me themselves !!!!

“What’s with the outfit?” You spoke bluntly, clearly a little put off by the reappearance of the black coat and red scarf. “Dude, you look like Mori.” Harsh, sure, but your boyfriend worked so hard to walk alongside you in the light, so the last thing you wanted was to see what would’ve been, if not for — 

Dazai smiled, seemingly amused. “Ah, love, it’s merely a costume. Thought you’d get a kick out of it,” he replies easily, pulling off the long red scarf: a staple of the Port Mafia’s boss.

His words help to relax you, letting out a small sigh as you push the coat off of his shoulders. “Let me grab you your coat, I know it’s around here somewhere…” You flittered about your shared apartment, pulling a backup brown coat from its spot buried underneath your closet. “This better suits you,” you speak under your breath as Dazai pulls it on. The fit seems a little… different. Is it somehow looser than normal? You frown.

“Thank you, love,” he repeated the same pet name. It felt as though he missed saying it, which doesn’t quite make sense.

You choose not to dwell on it — maybe seeing him in black again just rewired your brain for a moment. He’s alive and well in front of you and nothing else matters. A nod is all the reply Dazai gets before you slip on your shoes.

“I thought you might have headed to work early when I didn’t see you in bed this morning, but I guess that’s my fault for assuming the impossible,” you decide to tease.

Dazai easily slips behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin against your shoulder. “Mm… I love you, you know that? Let’s skip work today. We can spend time together, ‘kay?”

He’d always been unpredictable and spontaneous, so you merely laughed in response. “I don’t have work today, remember? But you still do.”

Shaking his head, he pouts — there’s the Dazai you love. “Nope!~ I refuse to go into work today. I’m spending my whole day with my love!” He practically jumps for joy, hands moving to gently hold your waist. “Let’s bake cookies.”

There isn’t much you can do, watching with an amused grin as Dazai unties your shoes before dragging you to the kitchen.

“It does not take two hours to make cookie dough…” you sigh, trying to jostle the white flour from your hair. “We baked cookies together, like, two weeks ago! How could we already have forgotten everything…”

Dazai grins, planting kiss after kiss on your cheeks, melted butter staining your skin from when he accidentally tried to drink from the cup you’d used to soften it. “Hard to remember much when I’m with you.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” You chuckled, grabbing a towel from the counter to wipe both your face and his lips.

“Yep!~ It’s like.. my love is so pretty I can’t think when I’m around them! Oh, I could just die in… No! I don’t even want to die! I could live in your arms, grow old together and watch you get all frail and saggy,” Dazai speaks dreamily, swooning over the idea of growing old with you. How sweet.

You push him away gently and begin balling up the chocolate chip cookie dough, pressing it onto the silver pan you made Dazai buy when you first started staying over. “Saggy? No, I’ll be young and beautiful forever,” you joke, but Dazai only nods in response.

“It’s true! No one holds a candle to my love. Why, I wish I could spend every day just staring at you.” Dazai’s voice always sounded teasing when he was with you, but even as you put the last of the cookie dough onto the tray (only had enough to fill one, since Dazai kept spilling, throwing or eating the ingredients..) you could feel the genuineness in his words.

Oven preheated, you slid the sheet in to bake (making sure to start the timer) before turning to Dazai. Before you could get a word in, the front door to your shared apartment creaked open. Heart dropping to your stomach, you grabbed the closest thing to you: a whisk your boyfriend had licked clean. Said boyfriend only seemed to sigh, falling into a more somber mood, head hanging before he sent you a sad smile.

“I think the jig is up, love…”

Your name is called from the front door, the voice… suspiciously familiar. “Are you in there? You weren’t answering your phone and I got worried...” Dazai stepped into your apartment, hanging his keys by the door before turning around (an addition you made, since he tended to forget his and jumpscare you by picking the lock every few days).

The three of you stood still, no words spoken and the only sound being that of your metal whisk dropping to the floor. Spinning from one Dazai to the next, you wiped a splotch of flour from your shirt collar. You felt guilty for some reason, like you were at fault for not recognizing an imposter Dazai, and wanted to make yourself look more presentable.

“Awww, love!” The Dazai at the door pouts, throwing his coat on the floor as he quickly heads over to you. “Are you cheating on me?” He continues, slouching over you to impose as much of his weight as he can. You struggle for a moment, his bone crushing hug enveloping more than you expected.

Guilt still apparent as your tummy twisted, you shook your head. “I didn’t— “

The other Dazai, the one wearing a black tie and covered in various cookie ingredients pouted as well. “Maybe she’s cheating on me! I mean, I can’t believe my love moved in with another man…”

God, this was too confusing. You gently pushed Dazai A off of you, stepping back from the two. “I don’t— “

“I can’t believe this… I head to work early one time and now you’re making cookies for someone else!” Dazai A whined, face smooshed against the oven door’s glass in longing. “I’ll never be on time again! In fact, I think I’ll always have to be late.”

Dazai B pulled Dazai A back towards him by his collar, whispering obnoxiously, “I’ll share the cookies if you share the beautiful partner.”

Dazai A nods in approval, eyes closed and arms crossed like it was the easiest decision to make in the world. “I want half the sheet. And, I want a kiss…” He pouts towards you. Ugh, how annoying.

You deadpan towards the two, no longer feeling guilty. These two were just as much Dazai as they could get. Arms spread, you let Dazai A pull you into a hug so you can give him a proper welcome home kiss. “Both of you are obnoxious. Is that all I’m worth? Half a sheet of cookies?”

“Half a sheet of your cookies,” Dazai B grins. “That’s not something either of us would give up lightly.” The other Dazai nods in agreement.

Both of your stupid, annoying, clingy boyfriends tug on your sleeves, forcing you over to the couch so they can both receive your affections while the cookies bake.

the timer goes off after a while but they both whine about not wanting to let u get up. once you threaten letting the cookies burn they're quick to let go. i hate them both.

[justkending]

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 5/7)

Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader (Enemies to Lovers) (Fake Marriage Trope)

A/N: I think we are staying on track for this to wrap up within two more chapters, but again, we are both in the dark if that's the case😂 Thank you guys for the love! If you are wanting to be tagged, please send me an ask. It's a lot easier for me to keep track of who's been added and who hasn't :)

_________

Y/N’s POV:

Okay, so maybe I blew up a little more than necessary, but I tried to chill out before he started chasing me, ordering that I didn’t walk away and talk to him. Let a girl try to get a hold of her emotions for a second big guy.

I’ve been anxious all day, waiting to talk to him about some deep seeded trauma, and then he comes and screws up all of it with a simple exception to an invitation. I know he didn’t mean harm by it, but he’s a trained professional. That was not a trained professional response. Plus, stepping out of my normal routine of being a bitch to him to keep him at a distance wasn’t just a switch I could flip.

Again, I could have handled that better, but now my brain is in mission mode, trying to reprogram what this night has set up for us. Considering the invitation was for tonight, it gave me little to no time to prepare.

“What time did she say dinner was?” I shouted from my bedroom, where I was going through our small, hidden arsenal of gadgets Tony had made for us.

“Six,” Bucky replied from his room down the hall.

Great, that was forty-five minutes from now… “Ok, I can do this.” Deciding it was best to keep some bugs on hand in case we could plant them in the house, and we would be planting them, I needed to consider sizes and placements.

“Should we bring over some wine or something?” Bucky’s voice was now in the doorway to my room, but I kept my back to him as I sifted through our tools.

“I made a pie earlier today. We can take that,” I answered absentmindedly.

“Why’d you make a pie?”

“Felt like it,” I shrugged and walked out of the closet with three small wires/ bugs in hand. When I looked up, I saw he had changed into a nicer button-up and was tightening a tie around his collar he hadn't been wearing earlier. “Why are you wearing a tie?” I examined him.

“Same reason you’re wearing a nicer dress. I want to make a good impression,” he shrugged, straightening pieces of his outfit.

“I’m wearing this because we were going to our ‘anniversary dinner,’” I made sure to put the lie in hand quotes. “I had a story that went with it, but this can pass as casual, too,” I motioned to my dress and moved toward him, placing the wires on the bed. “This looks like you’re about to give a sales pitch.”

Without thinking, I pop his collar up and loosen the tie to get rid of it. The whole time I’m focusing on untying it, I ramble about what the plan is for the night.

“I’m going to give you a wire to put wherever you see fit, and I’ll do the other two. I’ll excuse myself to use the bathroom and sneak it where it’s needed. I feel it’s important we look for cameras already in the house in case it’s a setup. We don’t need them having hard proof that we bugged their place. We want to come off as simple yet good assets if we want them to bring us on board for their work,” I struggle with a certain spot on the tie he somehow fixed in an efficient way I’d never seen. “Jesus, were you a sailor in another life? Might as well have knotted it.”

He doesn’t respond, but I get it off in the next two seconds and look at him to see he had been studying me intently as I invaded his space. I see my slip-up, push the tie into his chest, and take a step back.

“Sorry.”

“No problem,” he answers rather calmly, and I look at his eyes, seeing patience there. Always that damn patience. How did he still have it with me even with how I’ve treated him? “Listen-”

“About last night,” I say at the same time, and he seems shocked but gives a single nod to tell me to continue. “I want to say I’m sorry for being all over the place recently. From last night to thirty minutes ago.”

He seems frozen by my apology, and I became anxious enough that I start to word vomit.

“I took some time to think after last night and spent the day stressing, thinking how I was going to talk to you about it because I do want to. I want to get what I can out on the table if you’d be ok with that,” I look up through my lashes, and I see the most subtle turn of his lip as he watches me attentively.

“Are you hinting that there’s a chance I’ll get to see the side of you others are lucky enough to see?” he retorts, grin growing and taking a step closer to me.

His use of the word ‘lucky’ shortcircuits my brain, and all I can do is nod once, slowly, as my answer. He takes another step, and I match it with one back. I feel more vulnrable than I was expecting to.

“You can understand now why having our plans for the night changed made me slightly temperamental.”

“I think slightly may be an understatement.”

“I think you still should choose your words carefully,” I say, tightening my smile. However, it doesn’t shut him down like normal. Instead, he laughs under his breath, and the doorbell rings.

Both of our heads shoot toward the noise, and solemnity takes over the room.

“You don’t think that’s,” Bucky pauses as he turns back to me.

“How often am I wrong?” I take a deep breath in and smooth my dress out as I walk over, pausing beside him. “Hide the wires. I already did a sweep of the house while you were getting ready to make sure we didn’t have anything out of place. I’ll tell them you’re getting ready.”

I don’t need to open the door to know who it is, but when I do, the urge to yell, “I told you so!” in Bucky’s face is strong.

“Bethanne!” I smile kindly and immediately notice the dish in her hand. Reggie is behind her, holding two others, looking like he just got off work and had been dragged over here. “Did Beau tell me wrong? Are we not eating at y’all’s house tonight?”

She scrunches her face in a practiced motion and lifts the ceramic bowl up as she explains.

“I hate to ask this of you, but our oven is still the old rickety one. The new one had some faulty design, and we had to ship it back. Needless to say, it decided to give out on us today of all days,” she raised her shoulders. “I know we sprung the dinner on you suddenly, but would you two be willing to host if we provide the food?”

Not on the money of what I guessed, but pretty fucking close to the money if you ask me.

“Who is it, Doll?” Bucky’s voice carries from the hallway he’s now emerging from. The first three buttons on his dress shirt are undone, and he’s messing with the cuffs on the sleeves. “Hey, Bauers,” he smiles yet still holds shock in his features by the neighbor's appearance. “Did we get the time wrong?” he asks, looking at his watch before coming to my side, where I've now moved and am letting themselves in.

“No, no, no,” Bethanne shakes her head and hands off one of the pots to me as she takes one from Reggie, who looks more bothered to be here than happy. Long day human trafficking, asshole? “We had some appliance issues thanks to some of the renovations we were doing. I was just asking your wife if we can use your house as tonight's setting and possibly use your oven while here.”

Without hesitance, Bucky takes the dish from my hands and the dish Bethanne had swapped for and nods for Reggie to follow him.

“No problem at all. Let me help you ladies with that. Char," A nickname he had never used for my character before, but it seemed to work fluently. "Would you like to get some wine for the two of you while I get this organized in the kitchen?” he asks me, placing a kiss on the side of my head while his hands are full as he walks towards the other room.

I don’t know how he’s learned to play his role so well, but it’s convincing, even to me.

“Uh, yeah,” I almost stutter in my response as I motion for Bethanne to follow me to the wine cooler out in the garage. “Red or white with tonight's dish?”

"Do you have any more husbands like that in the back I can steal? What a gentleman," she coos, shoulder-bumping me.

___________

Half an hour of baking the food and getting it plated, and our conversation continued with questions mostly strictly about us, which would have been fine if not for the reason behind such invasive intentions.

They started off simple. How’d you guys meet? Who made the first move? What did we love about the town so far? What kind of hobbies and adventures did we take on before moving here? All questions we had prepared for, and if not, could easily improvise.

So far. No slip-ups. If anything, we sold the scheme far better than I’d imagined we would even when they became more personal. And our discussion on being the ‘prude couple’ last night seemed to affect Bucky’s actions a lot more than I was expecting.

An obvious hand on my thigh under the table and an arm thrown over my seat in a slightly possessive manner seemed to catch the eye of Reggie, who mimicked some of the moves as if it were a competition.

In addition, Bucky kept making small compliments about how I looked and how smart I was when they asked about my job. Dropping little comments about things I did (not my character) that he loved and appreciated.

“She’s always doing things like that. I almost never have to worry about making coffee in the morning because she has it all set up just to hit a button and go.”

“You should ask Charlotte about that! She’s the reason our house looks like a home. I’m sure she could give some advice on the kitchen backsplash.”

“She may not know how to boil an egg correctly, but her baking skills are unmatched. I've put on a few pounds now that we have a nice kitchen to spend time in."

I did my best not to act shocked every time he dropped a compliment, but the fact he could have made shit up for my character and used those details as conversation pieces, yet he went the honest way (although more convincing, of course), shocked me.

“Speaking of baking skills,” Reggie nodded his head back to the kitchen counter behind us and smiled at me. “I spied a pie on the counter. Any chance we can have that to finish off this dinner?”

I was still staring at Bucky from his last form of appreciation when I blinked out of my distraction and returned to our neighbor.

“Oh, of course! I was just about to offer,” I smiled, standing up, and Bucky quickly stood next to me, pulling my chair out. “Thank you.” I smiled at him and placed a hand on his arm as I moved around to the counter.

“How sweet. Oh, Charlotte, would you mind telling me where the bathroom is?” Bethanne asked, standing and giving her husband a look for not showing the same chivalry as Bucky.

I watched her, knowing that I would have used the same excuse to do what we planned to at their house. But I was two steps ahead of her.

“Of course! Beau, do me a favor and get some plates out for dessert. I’m going to show Beth-”

“Oh, I’m sure I can find it,” she waved off, coming around the table and moving to the hall promptly.

Yeah… Not without a chauffeur, honey.

“No problem,” I waved off, moving with her casually. “I need to grab some floss from my bathroom before dessert. I’ll show you to it.”

I can see the most subtle glaze of annoyance at my insistence, but she smiles and walks a step ahead of me.

I show her to the bathroom and make it seem I’m going into the master down the hall while she’s in there. And I do, but I keep an eye to make sure she isn’t snooping in any other room besides the one. We’ll have to survey it after they leave, but better that and the dining room than the whole house.

Once we’re back with the boys, no wandering to be done, Bucky helps me plate a slice of chocolate pie for each of us, and I offer to move the conversation to the porch. Any kind of redirection from the comfort of the inside of our home is welcome.

“I love how you’ve decorated your porch. It’s so cozy,” Bethanne notices, pointing out the colorful decorative pillows, hanging swing the size of a daybed, and loads of plants and decor that make the space more intimate. She and Reggie are sat on the two rocking chairs facing the front yard, and Bucky and I are sat close together on the swing, where he’s controlling the tempo we sway in.

“I always wanted a spot outside to escape. We didn’t really have that at our last home, and it was important for me to have this time around,” I replied.

My answer is actually very true. I loved being outside, especially when it was something as simple as sitting in the backyard or swinging on a porch. I had one requirement about this mission, one I’m not even sure Bucky knew about. But I asked Tony to supply a nice budget for the porch.

Call it cheesy, but growing up in such an unnatural and dehumanizing way, you crave a small part of that normalcy you see on the movie screens. For some reason, a porch I could escape on but still be within the comfort of my own home was a dream. And because it was, I thought I’d make this situation a little more bearable by granting that small wish I always had.

“Well, I may have to start budgeting for a new kind of renovation,” she patted Reggie’s back, and he gave her a tight-lip smile. "What do you say, Reg? Do you think we can get a swing like that one?” She smiled over at us just as Bucky pulled me into his side, his arm going around my waist and his hand resting on my hip bone.

“I have a feeling we might as well have built a home from scratch by the time you’re happy with the renovations we’ve taken on,” Reggie answered with a nod before taking a swig from his beer. “Get that recipe for the pie from Charlotte, and I’ll consider buying you a new porch,” he winked my way and turned back to the front of our lawn.

I instantly found Bucky’s hand tightening, and his thumb started rubbing in an up-and-down pattern along my hip. When I turned to him slightly, his gaze stayed on Reggie.

Before finishing cleaning up for the night, we said goodbye to our guests, and just when we thought we hadn’t made any headway in our conversation about work (mind you, we had dropped hints and notices about it all night, but neither of the two seemed to take the bait), Reggie stopped on the last step to our porch and turned to Bucky.

“You mentioned working in transportation, and by the sounds of your new job up here, if you’re interested in a more innovative place, I may have some ins for you,” he shook Bucky’s hand. “I have some coworkers around the states that could use some employees like you on their route.”

“I may take you up on that offer. It all depends on how this week rolls out,” Bucky answered perfectly. The Bauers said their goodbyes, and we watched them walk home before turning to each other.

In a silent celebration, we grinned at the invitation and then sent wordless glances to tread carefully when we got in before scoping the place for bugs…

_______________

Bucky’s POV:

I’m not surprised that the blonde sole cycle instructor of a neighbor was able to get a wire in our bathroom, but neither Y/N nor I were in the mood to remove it right away and give away our knowledge of it, so we each grabbed another drink for the night and debriefed subtly on the porch where the only bugs we had to mind were the crickets chirping their music for the night.

Bethanne was right. Our porch was nicely done, and I hadn’t even noticed Y/N had hung lights out here until she plugged them in.

“I feel like this spot is more put together than the rest of the house.” I noticed the details when we were out here earlier. Now, we both have taken up spots in the rocking chairs our neighbors had vacated.

“I may have focused more of my attention on this spot than the others,” she smiled as she brought a tumbler glass up to her lips. She had drank wine while Bethanne was here, but as soon as they were gone, the whiskey I had made a glass for myself was stolen out of my hand before I could take a sip. Now, we had each of our own.

“Was what you said about the porch a real thing? I mean, we have balconies at the compound,” I looked at her as I sat my drink on the small table between us.

“Balconies and porches aren’t the same. At least in my head, they aren’t,” she nodded, taking a deep sigh and resting her glass in her lap. “Did you mean what you said when you were complimenting me all night?” She lulled her head to the side to look at me.

I had been making compliments. It felt easier to use the ones I had picked up on than the ones I made up. Yet again, I think anyone should get the recognition they deserve when they excel in something. Y/N just tended to excel in more than I think she was aware of. And I was learning she didn’t seem to be used to people taking note of those things.

“Why lie?” I shrugged, starting to rock in a steady pattern.

“Because that’s this whole gig. A lie,” she answered, taking another pull of the hard liquor.

I considered her perspective and shook my head, looking out to the lights on the other side of the street. “I guess it gets tiring at points. Don’t really feel like doing it if the truth can be just as usable.”

She didn’t answer for quite a few seconds, and when I turned back to her, she was staring at me like she was waiting for another shoe to drop.

“How are you so patient? Seriously, is it a drug Tony made you before you had to deal with me on this mission? I don’t get it,” she laughs, but I can hear the genuine confusion in it as she sits forward and turns her body to me.

Honesty. I’m in a mood to be 100% honest.

“Want me to be real with you?” I asked, turning my own body.

“It’d be preferred,” she nods and rests both her arms on the armrest.

“I don’t know anything about your past, but I know most people have a reason for acting the way they do. It took years and a ton of patience before I felt like I was even close to who I used to be. I still struggle to come to terms with the fact I’ll never be who I was before the train incident,” I sigh and rest my head back against the chair as I look at her. “I guess I have understanding more than patience. I understand that you have a history of your own that I don’t know, and I can’t blame you for a lot of the things you do.”

“But you should. I’m an asshole to you,” she says, and the admission is kinda nice to hear, even if it is sad.

“Yeah, and I was hoping you’d be willing to share why that is,” I reply calmly.

She tenses some and sits back in her chair, pulling her legs under her to sit crisscrossed, the chair rocking with her movement and her dress overflowing past her knees.

“I guess now is as good a time as ever…” She looked at me sidelong before finding comfort in the view in front of her instead. “I didn’t really have a chance to develop a personality of my own because of my time in this lifestyle,” she motions around her, “started as soon as I could walk. So I had no identity to fall back on since I had to find it after I escaped.”

I had questions, but I found it best just to listen. Clearly, what she was talking about wasn’t something she brought up lightly, and being an ear to listen was what she needed right now.

“I was left behind by whichever no-good parent gave me up, and Adonis Hummel took me as his own and decided he’d try to recreate the famous assassin, The Winter Solider, from birth practically.”

The name drop came quickly and struck home. I didn’t know her whole story, but I had enough imagination and experience to believe where she was going.

“Wait, Hummel?” I started because the name sounded familiar, but…

“He was a low-level scientist who worked for Hydra when they were still using you under Pierce. He thought he had the brains and resources to create his own version of you. A version that would be more undetectable as a woman and a version he could tweak however he wanted,” she rolled her shoulders. “Lucky for him, I didn’t have to be brainwashed since I knew nothing besides the life of abuse, experimentation, and a shit ton of conditioning... " 

"To clarify, I say that for context, not sympathy,” she straightened, and I could see her shifting back to her unbothered disposition, but the truth was shining through the cracks. She may not have wanted sympathy, but something about the vulnerability seemed to lighten the load on her shoulders.

“As for why I may have built a wall around you, an unhealthy and senile wall, I felt as though…” She gulped as if the next part was harder for her to say than the abuse of her past. “I felt as though you had been my competition my whole life, and a part of me, a young and in-need-of-therapy part of me, thought it was best to keep you as far away as possible and hold onto that anger instead of work through it. It felt easier than facing the fear that I didn’t actually equate to you in any way. So that’s another reason why I felt everything with you was to prove a point.” She lets out a short breath after using all the air in her lungs in one swift swoop.

I-

It’s a lot to take in…

She doesn’t move her head back towards me after her confession, and I can’t seem to break my stare from her.

“This is where you say something like, ‘Well, it’s your lucky day. I’m actually an asshole either way, so we can go on hating each other for completely understandable reasons!’ or I don’t know? Anything but silence would be preferred, though…”

Her hand is gripping the arm rest unconsciously like an anchor keeping her on earth.

On instinct, I reach across and pull her hand into mine, keeping my stare heavy, enticing her to look at me.

She closes her eyes at first and takes another short breath before turning.

“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel unworthy of being on the team.” I feel like I personally am the reason for her suffering, even if I had no correlation with her before I joined the team. "You are more than an asset to the team and are your own kind of weapon. It's incomparable."

“Ugh,” she sniffles and rubs an eye with the heel of her free hand as if to disguise a possible tear as allergies. “This would be so much easier if you were a piece of shit misogynistic asshole, but you're part of the few good ones out there. Steve, Sam, and Clint included, not Tony,” she noted.

I smiled, thinking about how I’d make a team like that even if she had me believe otherwise for so long.

“What I’m trying to get at, B, is you’re not the one I should be blaming for my past. You’re just as much a victim as I am, but I took the easy way out of making it more manageable for me, and I only made it harder for us both in the end. And for that,” she turned and stared into my eyes fully, the hand she held squeezing my own. “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve an ounce of the kind of cruelness I tried to bury you in. You are the opposite of what they tried to make you, and you’re genuine in proving that to anyone who meets you. I've been envious of the strength you have, and I can say confidently that I deeply regret ever blaming you for that.”

I once again have to process yet another collection of words I’d never thought I hear. From her. Ever. A part of me believed this was a dream, but the part that Y/N had a grip on was practically pinching me into reality.

Without hesitating, I stood up, pulled her arm up with me, and yanked her into my body in a crushing hug.

She froze at first… The motion was quick and surprising, but slowly, she unhooked our hands, brought both of hers tightly around my waist, and laid into me. I rested my head on top of hers and pulled her shoulders in with my arms, wrapping both of my own tightly around her.

I wasn’t going to let go until she did, and by the looks of it… She wasn’t letting go anytime soon.

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @death-unbecomes-you @mythos-writes​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​  @srrymydood​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @xa-dia​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @redhairedfeistynerd​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @morganclaire4​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @connie326​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @captain-asguard​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @mollygetssherlockcoffee​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @teenagedreams-bucky @shower-me-with-roses​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @livstilinski @basicallylool​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @starryeyeseunbyul​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

My Lovelies Forever:

@natura1phenomenon​ @lauravicente​ @kakakatey​ @traceyaudette​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ @sandlee44​ @thorne93​ @thefaithfulwriter1​ @essie1876​ @greyeyedsmile14​ @capsiclehan​  @xostephanie​ @averyrogers83​ @awesomenursingstudent​ @gh0stgurl​ @cs-please​ @jjlevin​ @rainbowkisses31​ @deannotmoose​ @their-bibliophile​ @kitkatd7​ @willowbleedsonpaper​ @mariaenchanted​ @snffbeebee​ @couldabeenamermaid​ @rebekahdawkins​​ @alyispunk​​ @billyseye @hallecarey1​​

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker​ @charmedbysarge​ @jbarness​ @bellamy-barnes​ @katiaw2​ @aikeia​ @stopjustlovethemcu​ @enchantedbarnes

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt Series:

@jackiehollanderr @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @theroyalmanatee @wintrsoldrluvr @alexakeyloveloki @learisa @bxckybxrnes24 @lillianacristina @selella @heletsmelovehim @lovelybaka @heletsmelovehim @bubblegumbeautyqueen @mostlymarvelgirl @that-d-bitch @rabbitrabbit12321

[bunnivez]

Modern! Zoya…

Her first job was as a tattoo artist. Most of her costumers were women, they would specifically ask for her to do their tattoos; both because of her amazing work and the other… to get a close look at her. Whats better? Zoya is aware of the many women she is pulling (๑>؂•̀๑)

Imagine you two meet randomly bumping against each other and turns out you work at the shop right next to the one she works at!

Or you got recomendad by your friend to go to a certain shop to get your tattoo done, telling you to specifically ask for a woman named Zoya since her work is more professional and she is more trusted to give you great results.

She used to live in an apartment until she got a husky… I mean she it wasn’t like she couldn’t afford an average house but damn, she now has to pay more…

Has a love-hate relationship with her dog TRUST. Often complains of their sudden howling and the amount of hair they shed.

“It’s 1:30AM why the fuck are you howling like that!? You sound like you’re dying!” “Oh my f… You know i’m tempted in leaving you bald so I don’t have to deal with having your hair on the couch.”

At the same time however, they are also her best buddy and friend. There are times where she even lets them sleep with her on bed… For at least an hour before Zoya falls asleep and accidentally pushes s them off the bed in the middle of the night.

Yes she is a messy sleeper, god knows how the heck she ends up with on leg on the headboard and the other hanging on the bed. She snores like a dad…

Like even her huskey got scared for a second and kept barking until she woke up.

Listen, when going out she has this whole badass outfit, rings on her fingers, chains, unbuttoned blouse, a whole ass fit that screams “DADDY”

And then there are times where she just pulls up to the grocery store with an “Idgaf” outfit… Yet somehow she still looks hot. Jorts, a black baggy shirt, socks with the damn sandals or crocs combo (ಠ_ಠ)

Has a tongue piercing and you cannot tell me otherwise. If not, it is definitely her nipples.

Dark or alcohol filled chocolates girly. She isn’t a fan of overly sweet stuff.

Once choked on boba balls.

Honestly she can be romantic at times. She takes you to dates often— if not she plans something you two can do at home. Like cook, watch movies, play games or something.

Motorcycle rides with her are very common, more so with the fact that she doesn’t really own a car… Which she did confess that she may or may not be the best at driving.

Who knows how the heck she managed to stay alive with the many incidents she’s had while driving.. I guess she’s immortal.

Has an electric guitar, she posts videos on TikTok playing it and they get pretty high views! Like 406.1k views or something.

Her reposts mainly contain of two things; brain rots, lesbian.

Takes the most silly pictures of you and posts them on her story.

Source ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

HAHAHSGSBSGAVAWHABE, IMAGINE HER LAYING DOWN WHILE YOU SIT ON TOP OF HER TO DO HER MAKEUP.

Holds you like a stuffed animal when sleeping. It’s actually so cute but it’s kinda hard to break free from her hold.

YOU GUYS PLAY ROCK, PAPER, SCISSORS, AND WHOEVER LOSES IS IN CHARGE OF COOKING.

Her cooking is actually pretty damn good! I feel like she is especially a specialist when it comes to cooking meat.

If you are too shy to order your food whenever you two are out, or pay, DO NOT WORRY, SHE LITERALLY IS YOUR SAVIOR, NO KIDDING. This woman gives no fucks at all, too shy to order? She’ll do it, hot your order wrong? She’ll go up and tell them.

Have I mentioned she gets up at 5AM just to do pushups?…

The type to randomly smack or grab your ass, she doesn’t care about the size.

I don’t recommend watching romance movies with her… she will cringe at any kissing scenes acting like she wouldn’t or doesn’t do that with you 24/7.

Not the best at dancing… Girl is STIFF.

I have the feeling she is the type to not admit that she is in pain during her period. She will act all tough and all until she can’t anymore.

(We need more comforting the ptn women on their period instead of the other way around, they also need comfort 😔)

Oh yeah did I also mention she was close to breaking your phone once? It all happened when you were scrolling through TikTok and saw a thirst trap (*cough* Rhea Ripley *cough*) and when I tell you grabbed your phone and threw it… IT HAPPENED.

Says she hates kids but has a soft spot for them actually. They remind her of Horo when she was wayyy younger.

Randomly sends you weird TikToks…. Like it’s so random and she says nothing about it.

She isn’t a fan of dresses, but she once tried it for you and it was a sight. It hugged her curves right and she kept flexing her muscles. If you take any pictures she seriously will kill you. (Especially if you send them to her friends).

If you are out she WILL text and call you every 36 minutes if she can’t come with you. And if she is too busy to pick you up she will face time you on your way home.

Has like so many posters of her favorite bands, korn, kiss, Deftones, ect.

Randomly gives you kisses when you least expect it. They are so random, you could be distracted and she will kiss your cheek, or your forehead, or the top of your head.

If she sees anyone eyeing you while in public she will pull you close and give the person a nasty look.

[ratcash-wasgud]

So like you know that one anime my dress up darling? Yeah so basically Mizu AU that but Mizu's a photographer who loves anime stuff and reader who's her fav cosplayer

Reader does a lot of risque cosplay stuff though and makes Mizu blush having to take close up shots of her body :3

hey lovely!

i've never seen this anime lmao, but this sounds good so I'll give it a go !!

I also made some audios for this one, beause RAAAAAAAAHHHHH I'M FERAL

(btw this is pretty short, and kinda unfinished but I didn't just want to leave this one in the drafts forever.)

"Okay, could you...hold your hand up a little? Like...to your face?" Mizu mumbles from behind the camera, her tounge darting up to wet her lips. She has done this a couple times before, doing a free photshoot for you while you're in cosplay. Not only because it has both of her favourite things: Anime and pretty women, but because well...it's you.

She has seen your cosplays online a couple times, so when she ran into you on a con, and she asked for you number to do a photshoot later, and you said yes despite her suttering, she almost wet her pants in excitement.

She loves taking pictures of you, in and out of cosplay too. During your three months of knowing eachother Mizu has developed a fat crush on you. She has realized that under you lovely exterior, you're so very sweet on the inside. You always smile even when her camera isn't in her hands, and you bring her sweets and little gifts everytime, as if you owe her anything. If anything, she owes you for letting her gawk at you.

This time is different though. Mizu couldn't take one single usebale picture so far, because her hands are violently shaking. The reason is simple...today's cosplay is Misato, from NGE. But this time, you have your Misato wig and makeup on, but you're outfit consist of a towel wrapped around you, referencing that one scene where she runs out of the bathroom. Why? It's niche. And you love niche stuff.

"Okay uhm...sorry, can we...take a quick break?" Mizu lowers the camera, needing to take a deep breath. She has never been this close to an almost naked woman before, and it's fuzzing up her brain. Plus that almost naked woman happens to be you, so she definetly needs a breather.

"Yeah, sure." You say, straightening your back and getting out of the pose you were just doing. "Is anything the matter?" You ask, giving her that sweet, but so oblivios look she love-hates. It's unbelievable to her that someone as hot as you can be so unaware of the effect she has on people.

"No, no, I just...it's just...I need a bathroom break." Mizu says, not really wanting to admit how insanely attracted to you she is. It would help sooooo much if you knew by default. She escapes to the bahtroom like the coward she is, and washes her face. She checks her phone just to see the groupchat blowing up.

Taigen: omg are u dead yet?

Akemi: staaawp she is probs nervous leave her alone >:(

Ringo: Is she still there? Tell her she is pretty and her smile shines like a thousand suns!

Taigen: dumb ass advice

Taigen: tell her her ass looks good

Akemi: can u stop acting like a dog

Taigen: why it usually works

Mizu just sighs as she reads the texts. They are definetly not helping. She comes out of the bathroom in the same helpless state she was in before. When she sees you again, you're leaning against the wall, the towel slipping a little lower, giving Mizu a clear picture of where your areola starts. She swallows hard, but it's somehow dry and tries her best at wiping her sweaty hands in her pants in the least obvious way.

She must've been staring for a while because you hit her with a "What?" and a chuckle.

"Uh...nothing." Mizu blinks rapidly to snap herself back to reality. "Just uh...you know." Mizu awkwardly gestures at her chest, micking a pulling up motion. "Your uh...fans might die if I took pictures like that."

You look down, realising your towel has slipped. "Oh...Oh God, sorry!" You akwardly laugh as you pull it up. "Jesus...that's so embarasisng." You say, trying to laugh it off.

"No, no, it uh....shouldn't be embarssing. It's fine." Mizu says, waving her hands around in a way that's supposed to be dismissing. "I liked it." She adds quietly.

But, it somehow made it's way to your ears, as you lifted an eyebrow.

"You...did?" You chuckle, tilting your head.

"Uh, I..." Mizu is stunned. Fuuuuuuuuuuck nobody ever hears what she's mumbling why now? Why the most embarassing thing ever?

[kyemna]

Time-skip Haikyu boys and their love language

Pt.2

Tw: suggestive, profanity, sex below the cut

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

Kemna: Gift Giving

• I don't think Kemna is really big on physical touch, and he's kinda lazy. So I think gift giving is this guy's love language.

• Got you a gaming setup so you can play together.

• He would be so into roleplay/costumes.

So obviously he got you a maid outfits, cat ears, this guy is freaky. Somehow it's always the quiet ones you gotta look out for.

• Likes it when you give him something too. Not in a materialistic way, he can do that himself, my man is rich, but in a physical way.

• Gets you a cute skirt, will want you on all fours. Maybe a blowjob underneath his desk when he's busy?

• Also, something else I thought of, kinda unrelated, but I think he's totally into voyeurism. Because of this he sometimes invites Kuroo over to do his 'job' for him, so his lazy ass can watch.

Bokuto: Physical Touch 100%.

• We all know how energetic he is, so he often jumps on you (forgetting how fucking heavy he is.)

• Has to constantly be touching you, and not always in a discreet way..

For example: it could be as simple as holding your hand under the table in a restaurant. Or, he could be fully clinging to you. And I mean CLINGING. Both at home and in public.

• This guy as so much fucking stamina, so I can just see him fucking your brains out for hours. Especially when he's had a shitty or stressful day. Overstimulation, we don't know her.

• The upside to this ^ (for him) is, because he re-arranged your organs, you can barely walk, so he can just carry you around the house all day! Yippie!

• Loves to snuggle with you on the couch and binge watch all your favorite movies and series. Even better when it's Friday and ya'll can pull an all nighter.

Sugawara: Quality Time

• All he wants is your undivided attention. And he will do anything to get it.

Snatches your phone when you're not looking, hides your earphones or the remote.

• So when he's railing you like it's the last time he'll ever see you again, he wants you looking at him. Eye contact.

When you do somehow manage to look away, he stops all his movements, no matter how close you were, until you look at him again.

• He's a giver, but everyone likes so be on the receiving end sometimes right? So a massage, a home cooked meal.. yk or you jerking him off/a blowjob could never go wrong!

• Since he's a teacher, and probably always kinda busy, he takes his work home and wants you to tell him about your day while he's grading a student's test. We love a guy that can multitask.

• Usually greets you with 'Hey pretty', when he joins you in bed after a long day.

Oikawa: Physical Touch

• When he's not on the court or in the gym training, he's with you. Or rather, he's on top of you. Asleep. While you read or watch a movie.

• Loves, loves, LOVES your legs. When you're doing literally anything, his hands always find your legs. Brushing his fingers across them while you're cooking, having your legs on his shoulders when he's pounding into you, or tracing his lips along them, working his way up.

• Also adores your boobs. No matter what shape, size or colour they are, his face is buried in them.

• Such a sucker for back hugs. When he's folding the laundry, and you sneak up behind him. Always hears you coming, but is really good at faking his fear.

• In fall or winter he surprises you! With cold hands. Under your shirt. He will keep them there until they're warm again.

• In public, if you're not big on PDA, he brushes his fingers along yours when handing you something, as a small sign of affection.

I apologize if there were any grammar mistakes, English isn't my first language^^

Thank you for reading!

[frvnkcastles]

hiii, can you pls make one where reader have anorexia and frank helps her to eat? i love the way you write

❤️

SAY YOU’LL STAY ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You struggle with eating, and Frank wants to help.

Warnings: Unspecified eating disorder, feminine nicknames, brief mentions of Frank’s loss, language

Word count: 1.2k

Author’s note: Thank you for your kind words anon! I struggle with binge eating myself so I wanted to kind of pour my own experiences into this as well and that’s why I never specify what eating disorder the reader struggles with, just that she does struggle with one. Hopefully that also makes this relatable to a wider audience. I like to think that Frank is a good cook, just doesn’t really cook until you come along and suddenly he has someone to do it for. And he’d help you with your disordered eating step by step. <3

You stared at yourself in the mirror, scrutinizing every detail of your outfit, doubting the way you looked — but one glance at your disarrayed closet confirmed that you had been through all the potential looks already, and you needed to just accept this one as what it was. Exhaling deeply, you smoothed your shirt down and hesitated before finally just grabbing your keys and phone from the dresser and heading for the front door.

When Frank had asked you out on a date, you had been over the moon. You had been not-so-subtly into him for a long time, but you had never made a move in the fear that he didn’t feel the same way, so when he had done it for you, your heart had sung. It was the first time in a long time for both of you, and neither of you really knew how to act. Somehow, though, all your enthusiasm had been sucked out of you when he had suggested dinner at his place. In hindsight, it would have been so easy to propose something else, but in the moment you had frozen and simply agreed to his idea.

And just like that, it turned from an exciting first date with the man you were head over heels for, into a meal you dreaded. You weren’t able to see the date for what it was — you fixated on the eating aspect of the upcoming evening, and it was consuming your brain. You weren’t even nervous about being alone with Frank anymore, you were just worried about eating.

Still, you showed up on time, your heart momentarily soaring again when Frank met you at the door with a subtle smile and rolled-up sleeves. He looked beyond handsome, and before you could begin to doubt your own outfit and how your body looked in it, he had washed away your anxieties.

”You look stunnin’. Come in, sweetheart”, he praised while guiding you into his small but cozy apartment, and fiddling with your fingers, you thanked him and flashed a shy smile at him that pleased him all too much. He wasn’t going to admit to it so early on, but he was nervous too, more than was visible from his confident appearance — he really liked you, and to have this chance was irreplaceable to him.

Frank ushered you to sit at the dining table where he had already gathered his pots and pans, displaying an entire feast for the two of you, and your heart sank. It was so much food, and all of it looked so well-made and it only teared you apart on the inside even more. He had put so much effort into this date, and you weren’t sure you could get through one bite.

Frank was completely oblivious to the inner turmoil storming inside of you, his usually quiet self doing all the work to make small talk while piling food onto his plate. He offered some for you, and you weakly agreed, feeling sick to your stomach as the heaps of food built over your plate, certain that it was going to force an ugly side out of you that you weren’t ready for Frank to see.

Eventually, you realized that chatting with him was actually a great way to distract yourself from the food in front of you. You could blame not eating on getting lost in the conversation, make a joke about it, anything to get out unscathed. And for a moment there, you really did enjoy yourself — you enjoyed Frank’s company, the way he treated you with such kindness and gentleness, always respectful and interested in hearing more about you.

But unsurprisingly, he did realize that the food wasn’t disappearing from your plate.

”The food not to your likin’, sweetheart? I did ask you for your preferences”, he approached the subject with care, as he always did with you, and you felt awkward heat crawl to your cheeks because of being called out.

”It all looks great, Frankie. I guess I just lost my appetite”, you chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of your neck before pushing the plate a little further away from yourself.

Tilting his head to meet your eye, Frank licked his lips. ”Sure that’s all? You’ve seemed a little… I dunno, on edge all night. Here I was thinkin’ it’s just my handsome face but maybe there’s somethin’ else on your mind”, he made a half-hearted joke, but the frown on his face was truly concerned for your well-being, and it only twisted the knife in your heart.

”It’s not really a first-date topic”, you spoke quietly, suddenly feeling utterly ashamed, but Frank was quick to reassure you, his hand shooting from under the table to cover yours in a protective hold.

”Hey, I’ve already opened up about losin’ my family which ain’t exactly wholesome conversation material, either. Not gon’ pressure you into anythin’, but just sayin’. You can talk to me, sweetheart”, his voice was full of understanding, and god, if it didn’t melt your racing heart.

You swallowed. You supposed you did owe him an explanation, and he was right, he had opened up to you about his biggest losses and faults. If you two were to have any kind of relationship, it needed to be equal. And so, you took in a deep breath.

”I—I struggle with eating. Have for years. I don’t have a very healthy relationship with food and I’m afraid if I eat this admittedly delicious-looking meal, I’m going to spiral so hard out of control that it’ll wreck me entirely”, you admitted, all in one slurred speech, your eyes cast downwards as you waited for Frank to withdraw his hand and look at you in an entirely different light.

But he didn’t. His hand stayed firmly where it was, supporting you as he processed what you had told him.

”Shit, sweetheart. I can’t say it’s a topic I know a lot about, but I do know that I wouldn’t let you spiral like that. I wanna help, so whatever I can do, you just tell me, aight?” he promised, and silently, you nodded. You both sat in silence for a while, and he strongly felt like what he had said wasn’t enough. So, he continued. ”Doesn’t make you any less amazin’ in my eyes. You’re still a strong, gorgeous lady I’m kinda fallin’ real hard for. And I’d like to learn more so I can support you however you need me to.”

You finally met his eye, looking up with genuine amazement and wonder in your gaze. How could someone be so understanding, so kind, so… perfect? And how did you get so lucky to be here with him?

”I’d like to try the food”, you started carefully, and the joy that bloomed on Frank’s made you giddy on the inside. ”But will you be the voice of reason when I start to regret it? I—I really don’t want to make it your responsibility—”, you stuttered, but Frank swiftly intervened.

”Sweetheart, I promise I’ll be here for you. I won’t let your thoughts win this round”, he assured you, and softly, you broke into a smile.

”Thanks, Frankie. For supporting me and for cooking. This has been a really nice date”, you squeezed his hand with sincerity, and returning the smile, Frank reached with his other hand to brush a stray hair away from your face.

”Any time, gorgeous.”

[ofallthingsnasty]

Can I get a ticket to the long night of museums with Sanji, please? Thank you!

Sanji, my love... Of course I had to get this done for my birthday today... He's both more and less intense compared to canon, you'll see what I mean 🤭 Modern AU as with Rosi! Thank you so much for playing!

🎂nasty's 2024 birthday event (open until April 6th)🎂

Your order:

1 x ticket to The Long Night of Museums with Sanji! (Adult only, exhibition might contain content such as stalking and heavy dubcon, proceed at your own risk.

Sanji knew exactly what he was doing when he asked to man the window after he started working in that tiny, decade-old restaurant right in the middle of the old quarter. He gets to have it all - he can both pursue his passion and feast his eyes on the hungry swaths of tourists that descend upon the city come the first sunny days of spring. Dressed in their finest, they hem and haw over the beautiful old buildings that look like they somehow fell through time into the 21st century, still as picturesque as ever. Always happy (because hey, they’re on vacation, right?) with pockets meters deep and insatiable after trekking through the whole town. It’s good for his pride to provide them with a hard-earned meal and bad for his heart because every beautiful smile breaks it after leaving, time and time again. Every fleeting fancy has him sighing as they turn around to new adventures while he stays right where he is. It has never really bothered him - such is life, he figures - until he spots you; round-eyed and hungry right at his counter, your accent a dead giveaway that you’re a foreigner.

It’s strange, really - maybe it’s because you eat his food with rarely seen awe or maybe it’s because you’re just the embodiment of the word cute - it doesn’t matter, he feels a little extra smitten with you. But as they all do, you leave, get lost in the crowd until he can't spot you anymore and the next customer waits for him, money in their hands. He takes a deep breath, erases the dozen little daydreams his brain cooked up in the five minutes the two of you interacted with and puts his best costumer service smile on.

And then you’re there again the next day, around the same time and he balks at the sight of you. Just like yesterday, wearing another (equally cute) outfit, with some cash already tucked into your fist. I had to come back, you say, a bashful grin on your face. Can’t enjoy this for long and it’s just so good! Oh, he’s done for, he just knows it. Fate gave him a second chance (or just confirmation?) and he’d be an idiot to ruin this.

It’s so easy to spot the card of your hotel when you fumble with it to get your wallet and even easier to wait in front of your little abode later that night until you stop by to freshen up and go out again. Of course you would, it’s only natural - you’re trying to wring every last experience out of your trip and a night out is what completes it. He follows you quietly, all the way downtown, smoking while you almost skip along the streets. Just what has you in such good spirits, he wonders - and he gets his answer when you finally settle in a little pub and he seats himself somewhere close when you’re not looking.

Turns out, it’s your birthday, at least that's what you tell the employee at the counter, a thousand-watt smile on your face that he can hear even through the cigarette smoke and old hard rock. He’s torn between feeling excited and a little sorry for you - you shouldn't be celebrating your birthday alone, you’re too kind for that. Then again, it provides him with ample opportunities; he gets to be the hero of the day if he saves your birthday, he just needs to be smart about it. So he waits. Smokes cigarette after cigarette and thinks about all the things to say to you, gets lost in his own head while you drink yourself through an array of liquors and beers. Poor thing, you won't remember a thing tomorrow morning, the way you're letting the alcohol flow. He isn't the type to use people when they are at their lowest but he can't deny that some lowered inhibitions are only beneficial to him. And really, he isn't planning anything bad. Just a little extra care for you, on your special day.

He knocks on your table once you've gone from beer to shots. It's cute how hard your brain is working because clearly, you recognize him, but it just doesn't know where to place him. Eventually, you do - and beam up at him with so much joy it's almost overwhelming.

Oh! It’s you! From the window!

Adorable, even when you're shitfaced. You're perfect. He sits down without asking but you don't mind, too entrenched in drinking and babbling about your day. You seem so happy to get all of this attention from him, a semi-familiar face in the middle of the night, and he just listens and smiles. You toast him and he tips his cigarette, enjoying the way your knees knock against his. Just one last drink, he can tell, then you're ready. Then you’ll be going with him, uneasy in the legs but happy in mind, then you'll pull him into your hotel room with a giggle and too much force.

And really, he isn't a bad guy, he knows that - but he can’t help himself when he’s already knuckle-deep in you, cooing while you drunkenly whimper around his fingers. It’s so, so sweet. You’re so, so sweet. Can’t enjoy this for long, he thinks and nips at your ear, as you struggle to cum because you simply had too much alcohol. It's a little birthday present to you, a little treat for him. And maybe he should think about moving, too. Or fuck you so good tomorrow that you'll never want to leave again.

He'll figure something out.

[oops-all-concrete]

Hello lovelies, 💘HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!!💘

I'm back with more BG3 headcanons! Today's prompt is;

💕Modern AU; Ways the BG3 (romanced) companions are idyllicly sweet with Tav!💕

No spoilers! Tags are; A whole heckin lot of fluff and cuteness!

Lae'zel -

You have to be careful with what you say around Lae'zel. Made a minor comment 3 months ago that you wanted to revisit somewhere in the Sword Coast? Get packing, you guys are all booked to go. Asked Lae'zel to get you candy on the way home? She has 3 full bags. Say that comment her folks made last time you visited made you uncomfortable- you have a paragraph text apology from all of them the next day. She's not just someone who wants to spoil Tav, she fucking will. (If Tav manages to talk her out of going nuts with the pampering, she's surprisingly sentimental. You bet she keeps a rock in her pocket that reminds her of Tav)

Shadowheart -

She is so excited to post you. She doesn't like social media and tends to keep to herself, but after watching Tav post pictures of them both, she wanted to do the same. The minute she gets even the smallest romantic gesture, she's scrapbooking, she has a wall of Polaroids joined by a horde of hand made sketches, she's putting together little snack baskets and mailing them to Tav, she's about as obviously head over heels as a person can be, really. She's always got a camera aimed at Tav, even if they're just for her. (A good 90% are just for her eyes)

Wyll -

This man never plays games/gets online with both sides of the headphones in. It doesn't matter if the game is online, offline, urgent, time sensitive, dependent on his concentration- if Tav so much as makes a peep, he's out of his seat and across the room. Hells, he takes every chance he gets to go give Tav some attention. In the drift of leaving the waking world, Tav will definitely hear a little "One minute, Tav needs me" despite them not asking. Some footsteps. And then moments later, the warmth of the duvet being tucked all over their body and a gentle kiss to the cheek. Whispered "I love you"s and then a quiet. "I'm going to hop off for a few hours." So you can have some quiet.

Karlach -

She's one of those people that really makes you realise you have good taste in other people. Like, you can't think of a time you went on a walk and she didn't pick up some trash, help an elderly person across the street, immediately offer her seat to a pregnant woman. No matter how prideful Tav might be or not, there's a pride in the admiring looks other people give her. Little girls pass in the street and say "mum, I want to be like her when I grow up!" Everything she does makes Tav proud to be with her, yet somehow Tav is always the one under a spotlight to her. "Oh, me and my partner-" this. "Oh, my partner-" that. "I'm so proud of my Tav. Ugh, I am so lucky" she insists at every turn.

Gale -

He's a night owl, much to Tara's dismay. Wether that's because he can't sleep, he likes being awake in the dark hours or- his brain won't stop nattering at him for a gods damned minute, but either way. He's probably working, quietly cleaning, organising Tavs things so they don't have to worry. In quiet moments, between possibly making them breakfast because of course he's up that early- he's just kissing Tav on the forehead, gently, trying not to wake them. He needs them to sleep but there is not a moment in his day where he doesn't think: "Does Tav know I love them? Can I remind them once more? Even if its just for my peace of mind?" Because he will not rest if he has an inkling his live for Tav isn't at the forefront of their mind.

Astarion -

If you even suggest to this man that you should do matching outfits, he's excited. He always wants to take the wheel, but also wants Tav to have a foot in the idea. He will give ideas left and right, opinions up and down. He doesn't care if it's a date or not, cringe solstice photos, or just gym clothes, he's all for it. If you guys didn't have matching pyjamas already, you have them now, congrats. (If he's still a bloodsucker, he'll definitely still go out of his way to learn how to cook for Tav. Tokyo Ghoul rules though, so Tav gets to taste test a lot. Only the best for his little capri-sun) Overall he's just unashamed and excited to be with someone who very obviously wants to be his, visibly as possible.

(Bonus Halsin!)

Halsin -

This man lives for shared activity. He's quite alright on his own and can allow Tav their space, but going to get massages, haircuts/styles, wine tasting is his total vibe. Just relaxed gatherings together. Nobody lives a spa day like this man. It allows a level of intimacy that nature intends. Cleansing. Careful. Close. He will learn how to do Tavs hair and makeup if asked. Will take pleasure in being able to undress them and put them to bed at the end of a long day. Go on hikes and camping trips, walks through the woods, carving names into rocks and bringing back souvenirs to press into a book that's only getting thicker.

[dollsonmain]

Saw Harley and Ivy Barbies and thought "They're not too bad, but Ivy's outfit is terrible" and that's my full thoughts on it while my doll friends sit down and have a deep discussion about how and why they're terrible.

Green Barbies are getting easier to find with Elphaba, Vina, and Ivy. I want more other colors. The fairies had pink, purple, and blue. I wouldn't mind more purple and blue and a light green and ye... yellow might be pushing it unless she's Spongebob yellow and the pink fairy basically looked normal, and orange is just the 80's Barbies again, but you get me.

They have fairytopia and mermaids, why not fantasy skin tones?

-

Talked to a friend and he mentioned that he isn't sure if he's masking so hard that his mask is himself, now, or if he was faking being ND as a child and I was like love, that's a thing so many of my ND friends have gone through.

I'm going through the same thing right now with this job.

All these years have been like "I can't do this much physical activity because it will hurt me more than the activity is worth" and here I am walking 3+ miles every day, standing on my feet for hours, bending, lifting heavy stuff, and I'm fine. I've just been lazy and refusing to do hard work this whole time.

I say, while having obvious, glaring moments of brain fog (I'll break down Monday's chaos under a cut) and confusion while on the register, forgetting what I'm doing while I'm doing it, being so tired and sore that hobbling home takes more-than-twice as long as walking to work, falling asleep while eating, having to push myself very hard to get chores done when I'm home especially the ones that require going up and down the stairs, and being in so much pain at home that I'm barely mobile...

So Monday, a guy comes in and buys gas at the register. There's a slight price break if you pay inside, for some reason, and I'd rather it was card at the pump only but that's neither here nor there. Sometimes the card readers on the pumps hiccup and people come inside instead of fighting with them, too.

He tells me his pump number, I take the payment, he goes back out.

He comes in a little later and says there's no money on his pump. I knew the payment took and was like "Ok, I'll put $30 on the pump you're on as cash and you're good to go."

Which doesn't make sense. In hindsight, that made no sense what-so-ever. I don't know why I thought that was a solution to the problem. It made sense at the time but as soon as he walked out the door I was like "Wait... What did I just do??"

Some back and forth and we discover that he told me the wrong pump and the lady at the pump number he gave me had put in her card like normal and pumped gas not noticing the money already on there, but that was HIS money.

I couldn't figure out how to refund the man's payment to her pump and take payment from her so we could reset everything, and that didn't fix the $30 cash charge that wasn't in the register because I didn't take cash from him, I just told the register that I did.

So I had to grab Alt-Manager, tell her what happened, and after SHE tried to refund the wrong-pump card payment so we could charge both customers correctly and couldn't she asked the woman if she had any cash. The woman had a $50, so the manager broke her $50, gave the man what he was owed for the woman's gas (the woman was like "that's for me!" but no, it was for the man) and the remainder to the woman.

We charged the man again for HIS gas, which he had already taken from the pump so we had to charge him for random groceries, and they both walked out.

Then I was like "Wait, I think this means the woman didn't pay for any gas."

Which Alt-Manager was like "Oh no..... I think you're right...."

She had to go call Manager who somehow understood what had happened and broke it down for both of us, while both of us were like "what...." but.

The man will have 2 charges on his CC: Her gas and his gas. The gas station gets both. The woman paid the man in cash for her gas. Manager "refunded" the $30 in cash I'd told the register it had to zero that out.

In the end it was all square, but it was so confusing at the time.

It would have been better to refund the man the cost of the woman's gas in groceries in cash and then recharge him for his correct pump and then charge the woman in groceries for how much she was owed, but I didn't know that was an option. To refund as groceries when the issue was gas. Though doing that may have messed up the drawer count, too, because that cash was never put in the drawer in the first place, so doing it the way she did was the best way to keep the drawer count right.

Anyway, Manager is very good at understanding and managing the money side of things and being firm with vendors, customers, and employees, but bad at time management and has unrealistic expectations regarding how long it takes to complete tasks, especially when also expected to run back to the register every few moments, whereas Alt-Manager is good at the money side but a little easy to influence/push around, and very good at time management making sure that everyone is in and out at the correct time and will jump out to take the register about 5 minutes before it's time to go so employees can count their drawer and do their dishes, etc.

[toomuchracket]

my current brain rot ever since atpoaim is a fort date with matty!! however in my head the cute date eventually gets crashed by all the band and ends up with everyone crammed into the tiny fort.

like maybe it's at mattys house, and it's well known George just lets himself in, so he does and immediately sees the large fort in the living room and goes to investigate. he sees you and matty cuddled watching a movie in a sea of blankets and pillows so very unceremoniously flops on top of you both and the myriad of pillows. he works his way into the date somehow and is half watching the movie and half just watching you and matty being sickeningly cute and wondering if that's how him and Charli look.

about 20 mins later, there's a knock on the door, and you and matty are like??? but George just pipes up with "Oh, I invited Adam and Ross to the hangout. I hope that's okay!" and matty starts being like "this actually was a date before you barged in and-" but gets cut off by you saying its totally okay and he should go let them in. Adam feels slightly bad for barging in, but you assure him it's fine, and eventually, the 5 of you are all crammed under this fort cuddled up watching some sappy rom-com you convinced them to watch. it obviously starts with lots of complaints "ugh nooo" "whyyyy," "cmon, do we have to watch this chick flick?"" but eventually divulges into gasps at how bad the guy is and comments like "oh my god she needs to leave him" but also on the other hand they're like "well no because she fucked up too" and finally when the movie ends it is just 4 grown men trying to keep their emotions at bay after watching like enchanted or Notting hill lol

anyway sorry for rambling, domestic matty and the boys kills me off everytime

i can't believe you apologised for this omg i LOVE it!! it kinda feels like slightly older flatmate!matty and his girl to me. like say the boys are on a break from work, and matty's built this fort all cute and romantic for you guys to just chill in all cutely, and you're lazily making out in it when you hear the front door open and close and a gravelly voice go "yoohoo!"; george, bored as shit because charli's off working somewhere, coming round for some entertainment. fully creased at the image of all six foot whatever of him just flopping over you all snuggled into matty - i bet you'd be like "hi darling!" to him, genuinely happy to see him, while matty's all tetchy like "george what the FUCK" (but that's his bestie, so he lets him stay and watch, idk, lady bird (it's my fav film) or whatever with you). and the whole time, george is side-eyeing you and matty in the nicest way, thinking about himself and charli AND how you and matty used to cuddle watching films together even pre-dating but it's so lovely that you're so openly lovey-dovey in the same scenario now. and i think george had probably texted ross and adam to hang out before he came over to yours, and then when they agreed he was like "oh i'm actually at matty's" so they just rock up there; like you said, adam is guilt-stricken and very much like "oh my gosh i am so sorry for intruding i'll be on my way" - matty's like "yes that sounds like a good idea considering my girl and i were having a little DATE before you fuckers showed up" - but you're like "honestly don't worry about it. if you don't mind sitting through my movie choices you can stay". matty sighs, but is appeased when you kiss him quickly and smile sweetly at him, so it becomes the five of you all chilling on pillows in this fort watching the devil wears prada (they would fucking hate andy's boyfriend they really would). and they all complain when you say "oh my god let's watch enchanted" as you go back to the disney+ homescreen, but maybe you all share some alcohol or a joint and then they get really into the movie, gasping at the change from animation to live-action and making little comments throughout the film - i bet ross is SO bitchy about giselle's outfit for the ball lmfao. but yeah, you turn your head to look at them all as the credits roll, and try not to giggle at these huge (and matty) men either sniffling or just beaming happily at the film they just watched. and as much as you've had a nice time, matty kicks the other boys out shortly after this so he can romance you as he had planned to the whole evening (but as you hug them goodbye i think you're like "same time next week? we'll watch 27 dresses and the lizzie mcguire movie") lol <3

[writtengalaxies]

Reader visiting yancy, showing him the cell block tango. Look me in the eyes and tell me that he does not try it with his buddies-

I had to do a double-take for a bit with this, because my brain processed tango in the spicy way for a moment, before I went "OH! CHICAGO!" at the top of my lungs. But oh my good gods yes.

"Yance, I really think you'd like this!"

You held up your phone to the plexiglass, watching his eyes alight as he watched the whole routine play. By the last parts of the song, Yancy was already humming the tune, eager to memorize it.

This had been the trend for you both, for your last couple of visitations. You'd watch a musical, figure out which song he would like, and play it for him. It always helped spark a new burst of creativity, and gave him an outlet he could focus on that would help as he worked hard on being able to apply for parole. It also let you make a list of movies for when he did get parole, that you could watch together.

Chicago was one you weren't sure of first, especially playing one of the most recognizable numbers from it in the penitentiary, but you had passed the idea by the warden first, and somehow he gave the okay. You weren't going to look a gift in the mouth, and told Yancy the loose plot. He was uncertain until he saw the Cell Block Tango. Sure, the outfits made his cheeks flush, but you knew he was hooked when you saw that particular little crease between his eyebrows, the way his eyes seemed to track the movements even as you watched his fingers tap to the beat.

It'd be another to add to your list, then.

---

Third Sunday was here again, but for the first time in months, you'd missed your chance to watch a musical to tell him about it. You knew he would understand, what with work piling more on your plate, but it still nagged softly at you.

Yancy picked up his side with a sheepish little grin, ducking his head.

"So, I gots somethin' to tells ya."

"Hmm? What is it?"

"I know we was gonna watch it together, but I asked the warden, and uh. Me and the gang got permission to actually watch it, and...I know youse is makin' that list, but..."

"Wait, Murder-Slaughter let you actually watch Chicago?"

"Yeah! I think he realized we tend to behave better when we gots somethin' to focus on that ain't, you know. Stabbin' or fightin' or whatever. And the gang and I've been workin' on learnin' the choreography for that song. I wanted to see if I could surprise ya with that, but some of the gang's got their own visitors today. We almost got it figured out! So...maybe...maybe youse can give him the list, and...and it'll still be special. Cuz it came from youse."

"I'm going to have to come up with a whole new watch list for us, then."

Yancy's smile widened, leaning forward to rest his hand on the plexiglass, watching as you pressed your hand to the other side. "Watchin' anythin' you recommend is special. I'm lookin' forward to that date."

[dailydragon08]

Random cute Luke x Reader headcanons that live in my head rent-free pt 8 (punk/edgy/grunge style reader edition, ft Han & Leia)

TW: descriptions of slightly revealing outfits on reader (deep v-necks and high slits in skirts, but nothing explicit or overly descriptive).

Han thought he was gangsta till you showed up I’m sorry I had to, I just love the idea of Han being like “sure I’m a punk” till he sees you and is like “way to one up me, kiddo.”

When he first meets you, is in awe of any body modifications you have. Loves all your piercings and tattoos, and is a sucker for nose rings (especially septum) and any tattoos that sort of wind up one of your limbs, torso, or neck.

If you don’t mind showing a bit of skin (deep V-necks, ripped pants, or skirts with high slits), Artoo is on drool-patrol for him.

If you have combat boots, is obsessed with them—especially if you’re his height and the heel on the back makes you taller than him (may or may not have some headcanons/a fic in the works about this).

Even though it’s not really her style, you and Leia bond over fashion/hair/makeup/jewelry. You both make a point to learn each other’s preferred styles inside out, will buy things you see that you think the other will like, and sometimes she takes you on shopping sprees with her. Definitely makes you her “help me choose my outfit for this fancy political event” buddy.

Along that same vein, Luke will also buy you things he sees that remind him of you and is so sweet and gentle when he gifts them to you.

ANH Luke is just staring at you slack-jawed and loses the ability to speak. ESB Luke at least is able to close his mouth and form halfway coherent sentences, but is a blushing, giggly wreck around you and constantly running his hand through his hair or rubbing at the back of his neck. ROTJ Luke (my fav) has the most composure and always convinces himself he’ll be nice and smooth—and a good 75% of the time, he succeeds, but does still slip up every now and then and blushes up to his ears.

Luke makes sure to always go above and beyond with his compliments since he knows how much care you put into each outfit (especially if you’re self-conscious sometimes). For example, he’ll say things like “that lip color goes really well with your skin,” “I love all your gold jewelry combined with the black clothes,” “the dyed pieces of your hair look amazing when the light catches them,” always notices whenever you wear/do something new, and definitely has his favorites from your wardrobe and gets SO EXCITED when you wear them. Even ROTJ Luke will be calm about it, but internally be like *brain vibrating*.

Whenever you go to formal parties with the OT crew, your style does mean you stick out a bit, but they all assure you it’s only in the best way. If anyone gives you grief, they’ll have the whole squad glaring at them until they apologize.

Seeing you in formal wear had Luke melting to the floor for the first time (I plan on making a separate part for this).

Going back to if you wear anything a bit leggy, especially if it’s a maxi skirt with a high slit, he relishes getting flashes of your legs. Especially if you’re Force-sensitive or just a good fighter and are sparring, he’s trying so hard to pretend he’s not getting super distracted by it.

If you two live together, he loves seeing all your different pieces in his closet and refresher and buys you different hanging/tabletop organizers. If he can’t find an organizer he likes, he’ll hand-build you one himself so none of your stuff gets mixed up or tangled together.

·         He’s an absolute master at untangling necklaces and bracelets. Especially if you like the stacked necklaces, he will work for literal hours to pry them apart without breaking them (you’re convinced his Force-sensitivity somehow helps with this) or complaining. But once he’s done, you will get a loud “AHA!”

Sometimes hand-makes you jewelry and gifts it to you on special occasions.

Once you’ve gotten together with him, when you’re apart, you’ll comm him a picture of your outfit of the day and he’ll respond with so much praise.

If you’re into posting your outfit online, he’s always the first to comment with heart eye, fire, clapping, and melting emojis. He’s not a big holonet person, but if he knows you’ve posted a picture, will get on specifically to hype you up before logging back off.

The first time you let him pick your outfit, this man was so psyched and put so much thought and care into it, then didn’t hesitate to tell you how amazing you look (“if I do say so myself”) and will frequently ask to do it again, of course with the caveat that you’re more than welcome to say no to part/all of his choices.

Calls you his “stylish girlfriend/boyfriend/partner” and has big proud that’s my SO energy whenever you get compliments on your style.

Tbf, he’d do this with any style, not just a more edgy one, cuz he’s the ultimate hype man, but this is just me being self-indulgent.

[rinhaler]

Yo! im back again. I saw ppl really liked the step daddy gojo and uncle nanamin camgirl au idea, and now i raise you: pornstar au!

set of porn videos with uncle nanamin and stepdaddy gojo that evolve into videos featuring guest stars like toji or geto or choso (and, curiously enough, sukuna) Till eventually theres a christmas special where they gangbang you. (or “stuff your stockings” as they call it here. yeah its as cheesy as one might expect with gojo lol)

The videos leading up to it have different ‘plots’, such as:

-sneaking out against gojo’s orders to go out with your friends late at night. After all, youre an adult, he cant tell you what to do. While yall are out on the streets literally every car looks like your stepdaddy’s car which makes you on edge the entire time. Until you actually see gojo pass by you guys, and uncle nanami is sitting in the car next to him. they both stare at you as they pass by (picture that zoolander meme but nervewracking and kinda exciting?)

long story short, gojo texts you to get your ass back home. You do as he says, and him and nanami punish you as they see fit

-Gojo rearranging your guts later during the day when you decide to get all dolled up and wear a cute but revealing outfit when the other men come over for bbq. Whatever you were planning worked, because you saw them eyeing you the whole time. Unfortunately for you, this didnt go unnoticed by gojo 👀

-wearing an excuse of a string bikini and standing over nanami, whos sunbathing on the recliner chair, asking him if he can pretty please help rub some sunscreen on your back (spoiler: it wasnt just your back that he ended up “””putting sunscreen”” on)

-this specific plot has been on my mind since 2020, but attending online lectures while getting plowed/eaten out, and having to hold back from moaning when youre unmuted. When you are muted, however, youre making all sorts of pretty noises. could be nanami or gojo

-hanging out with megumi and fucking his dad somehow without him noticing. Like toji eating you out while ur bent over the counter. Megumi walks in, but he cant see whats going on bc ur behind the counter. Toji, however, doesnt stop. If anything he starts doing MORE, teasing the fuck out of you knowing you cant make any noises.

Megumi asks if you’ve seen his dad, you choke out a “N-no, maybe hes in thehhh the backyard” He gives you a weird look, says okay, and then leaves the kitchen. the SECOND you hear the back door shut you let out a stream of moans for toji, whos very pleased by this whole ordeal

-This one is just straight up asking toji and geto to tag team you. And they do so, gladly. They take pictures, too

Theres definitely more but thats all i can think of at the moment. This was a super long ask, but i think you’ll enjoy it.

toodles! :))

-🐚🩷🍬

omg sorry I took forever to answer this one I had NO idea where to start but you ate as always I love all of these. My favourite (unbiased for daddy toji ofc) the kitchen one with him EEEEEP the thought of having to try so hard to be quiet until he's out of ear shot HNNNGGGGGNGNGNGNNGNG hrrrruddhudfhusddhummmmmmmm brain is short circuiting I'm gonna d i e

these are all so good though omg you churned these ideas OUT u should write if u have a writing blog :P

[just-otter-thoughts]

I wanna be a man and act like a man and get rid of all the ways in which I'm girly so bad but I know that's not something I should do and it's denying who I am and it's being insecure but at the same time why can't I be like them. All the other men.

There's a sense of disconnect between who I am and the concept of a man. There's other men, and then there's me. I'm not like them. I'm other. I'm too girly. I talk too nasaly. I limp my wrist. I dance like a girl. That's why I thought for a while, and still think there's some truth to it, that I was a girl.

But I also don't want to let go of all the masculine qualities of me. I don't wanna let go of my beard, and my body hair, and my deep voice. I don't wanna let go of the muscles I'm working so hard to get, and when I look in the mirror and pose like the pictures of the gorgeous men I drown myself with everyday, I see that man in me. I see that I've somehow "earned" every time someone refers to me as "him". Every time someone's called me "bonito" and not "bonita".

And it's just, so tempting to literally just do transmasc voice training. To get rid of the girl. I have a feeling that up in my brain I have a man commanding half of it and a woman commanding the other half.

And you know what's even funnier? I love how in Portuguese I talk like my mom. Hearing her talk, she places her tone in such a beautiful way. And it feels so good to, in first person, talk like that. But when I hear it back in recordings it's repulsive.

And it feels so empowering to perform a sexy girly routine to a, say, Britney Spears song. But when I look at a recording I frankly don't even know who that is. Does that make sense? In first person, I love being like this. But when I'm faced with the possibility that others may perceive me as anything but manly, I reel.

I don't know where I'm going with this essay. I wish I could, and I probably can, separate the two personas. Alexander and Tatiana.

I'm not changing a single thing about my body. But the way I talk, I wish I could choose to talk like Lex, and then to talk like Tati. So I guess that's something I can work towards.

What's funny is, I get gender envy from both genders, but it's way easier for me to get it from women. Any girl rocking an outfit, or a drag queen? I wish I was her. But for me to get gender envy from a man it's a hairy leather daddy.

Do you know when I felt the happiest with my masculinity? When I was bald. I loved looking in the mirror and seeing a bald bearded gay man. That was genuinely gender-affirming care for me. I would look at my shadow and it would have no hair and a big beard. And I could wear anything I had, I would still be a bald bearded man.

I just wanna end this by saying that I've always lived as Lex, but I wanna learn to love Tati. And there may come a time, who knows, in which I'll want to give to Tati the control of certain areas only Lex was allowed to play with. But it feels too much like denying my nature to ask Tati to step down from my voice.

And make no mistake - I wish it was as simple as yeah I'm just a guy. And you know what? Sometimes I genuinely feel like it is. So I guess I'm genderfluid?