#it’s just. stupid that they’re literally running out of things to keep me busy and yet

[j-esbian]

i rly rly hope i’m able to see the eclipse tomorrow

[sweetimpurity]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 👻🎃 Happy October my sweets! Please enjoy and I'll see ya tomorrow for day 2!! 🎃👻. masterlist>>

cw: fingering 1.6k words. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“You did so well today…” Miguel says suddenly, his eyes on the holographic screen in front of him. Breaking the silence of his office except for the hum of machines and computers. You came to discuss a future mission and he’s finding the files in the computer database when he says it. Bringing you to look up at him. Lashes fluttering slightly and a warm satisfaction flooding your chest, smile gracing your lips. You worked hard as you do everyday and it’s good to know he notices. “Thank you…” 

“Really, babe. You were the exact right person for that mission and because of you, it went perfectly.” When he says it this time, he looks into your eyes. A genuine, purposeful look in his eyes. You could swear he can see you literally melting. From the inside out. “I’m very proud of you…” 

 “Thanks, Mig…” You can’t help the smile, warmth flooding your cheeks, a strange feeling inside, like pure happiness and satisfaction. Cracking your knuckles behind your back, crossing one leg over the other where you stand.

…

“I love your hair like that.” His deep voice hums and you feel his fingers on your cheek, pushing some stray strands behind your ear. Turning around to face him and that familiar feeling comes back. “It’s so pretty… too pretty…” He grins as he’s walking past you. His dark eyes raking over you and watching that smile wash over your face. Your voice a meek gentle sound. “Thank you, baby…” 

“Thank you, pretty girl…” 

…

“Amor, you made these yourself?” He smiles across the desk. The fruit-filled empanadas you made in the middle. The dessert you spent so long learning how to make. Because you know they’re his favorite. The butter layered in between, the reduction of berries and sugar to make the jam, the delicate shapes they’re formed into. Made with love and care. “Yeah I did!” You smile brightly across the table. Beaming at him. 

“I’m so impressed, baby, these look so good.” He says as if it’s no big deal. Like you aren’t squeezing your thighs together under the table. He’s been doing this a lot lately. Maybe you’re just now starting to notice. From the compliments on your outfits or how good you look in your spider suit. To the progress you make on missions, the food you make, anything you do. “Thank you Miguel…” It’s something you keep saying. Over the past few days especially. It’s like everything you do, he just loves it. And more than that, he’s letting you know. 

…

“You can pick the movie, I always pick.” You toss him the remote across the sofa. A rare quiet night in after a string of busy society days. Flopping back against the cushions, your legs draped over his lap and his big warm hands running up your calves, to the underside of your knees. “I think you should pick…” He says.

“But I always pick.” 

“Because you always pick the best ones. Every movie you pick… that’s the perfect movie.” 

Your eyes narrow at the side of his face across the couch. And then he finally looks over at you. His brow rising. “What.” 

“What is that? What are you doing?” You smile, giving him a skeptical look. To which he just shrugs. He wasn’t doing this last week. He was his same stubborn and quiet self last time you checked. So you pull your knees up, rolling up across the cushions and over to him. “That thing you keep doing…” 

“I don’t know what you mean.” He says, sighing and fighting back a smile when you climb into his lap. Straddling his lap with his hands naturally coming to your hips. His deadpan face to face with your narrowed expression. 

“You keep complimenting me and… like everything I do, you say it’s good and stuff.” You say, crossing your arms with a pout. The words feeling stupid coming out of your mouth. He’s your boyfriend, of course he’s supposed to compliment you on things you do. Is all of this just normal stuff? No one you dated in the past ever did this before. But why is it such a big deal? 

“You’re just so perfect at everything baby…” He whispers. And it’s now you’re sure he’s doing this with some ulterior motive. “You and I both know that’s not true!” You disagree with a smile, pointing a finger right at his face. “There are lots of things I suck at!” And he just leans forward, pressing his lips to the tip of your finger. “Perfect fingers too…” 

“Miguel, stop!” You pull your hand away, blushing so hard and trying to squeeze your knees together if not for the blockage of his body between them. It’s more confusing than anything. Crossing your arms again. “Perfect fingers, perfect hands, perfect body, perfect face… most perfect girl in the world…” 

Your eyes widen as the whispers hush past his lips. Your heart is starting to pound. “What happened to you? What's going on?” You ask incredulously. It’s comical. 

“There’s nothing wrong… you’re just perfection, baby…” And he just leans forward, closer. You lean back, not knowing why you feel this way. Did he hit his head too hard on the mission today? You’re not complaining but all this praise coming from your usually reserved and quiet man is shocking. His eyes trail up your body as he’s speaking. Scanning you up and down. “You like it when I talk like that, baby?” He whispers looking right in your eyes, grinning at the embarrassing blush fanning your cheeks. 

“I don’t know…” You whisper in return, pressing your cold hands to your hot cheeks and keeping them there. “You like that?” He asks again. Although the answer is obvious. “Mm…” You just hum softly, nodding with your hands on your face, as if to hide from how hot he’s making you feel. 

“You’re such a good girl… such a sweet girl…” He whispers, barely audible over the thumping of your own heart in your ears. Pushing some hair behind your ear with gentle fingers. “It’s my job to let you know, right? To let you know when you’re being a good girl…” His deep voice vibrates.

He can see how this is making you feel. A satisfied feeling for him, watching you react. He’s suspected for a while that you have a thing for being praised and sweet talked. That it’s more effective in getting your panties off than a sharp talon sometimes. Even if you yourself have no idea. Because he can feel it. The way you squeeze around him when he so much as tells you, you’re beautiful during sex. The way you’re ten times slicker when he drowns your mind with countless compliments during the deed, making you hazy. So hazy you barely remember it the next morning. You just remember how good he made you feel. It makes you so much softer, like putty for him to play with. It’s his job to please you as best he can, is it not? 

The past few days have sort of been a test. He’s a scientist after all. He showered you with compliments about anything and everything. It wasn’t hard for him. Since he really does believe in everything he said. He just usually doesn’t make a habit of saying it out loud. But knowing it gets you off was the biggest push for him to verbalize it every time. And knowing you like being good for him does things for his ego. 

…

“You’re my best girl, my pretty girl...my only girl…right baby?” His voice husks, one arm wrapped around your back to keep you in place and the other buried in your panties. “Mm! Hah Mig-” You can only sigh and moan, grinding into his hand. His palm pressing perfectly to your clit. His long fingers curling up inside you, pressing upon your g-spot over and over. Massaging your sensitive walls and feeling you gush on him. You’re just so sweet for him. It gets him hard just watching and hearing you. The soft squeaks and squeals and sighs. Your knees pressing into the couch cushions on either side of his thighs, toes curling in your socks and desperate hands raking through his hair and holding his head in your neck. Listening to the praises and words of devotion flowing from his lips right to your ear. “Such a pretty, perfect pussy, amor… so soft.”

His other hand dips into the back of your waistband. A big warm hand splayed out on your asscheek and grabbing a handful in a squeeze. Pulling urgent moans and whines from your throat. His touch is gentle while still confident and sure. This is about your pleasure after all. Two of his thick digits filling you up already, working in and out, his other hand moving down your ass and snaking between your thighs, making you want to close your thighs again. All his fingers with all their attention on filling you up and making you come. 

“Keep those legs open, baby…” He whispers, making you whine. Nudging your head to tilt back with his strong nose. His lips latching onto your throat in wet kisses, feeling you squirm, you just can’t keep still, knowing you're close. “Come on baby… be a good girl and come for me…” His words alone could get you there. To know he’s pleased. 

“Miguel I-I’m… hah!” You squeal, fingers digging into his shoulder blades, and his head pulls back to look up at your face. “That’s my girl- Oh you look so beautiful like this baby… gorgeous girl… you can come, it’s okay…” 

Your eyes flutter and roll back, a gasp of his name and you’re done for…

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[buckymorelikefuckme]

cry baby

bucky barnes x fem reader

words: 7.3k

warnings: **18+ ONLY** smut, edging, overstimulation, crying during sex, mentions of flushed cheeks, friends to lovers, misunderstandings, lapslock.

a/n: this is arguably one of my absolute fave fics i've ever written. she is near and dear to my heart :') i've provided the link for ao3 if you prefer to read it there! it's originally posted in two parts but i've combined them here. any and all mistakes are mine. feedback is encouraged & appreciated ♡

“the boys are running late,” natasha informs you when you make your way to the table she’s conquered in the busy cafe. “sam texted a couple minutes ago and said he and bucky got stuck in traffic.”

it’s the second tuesday of the month, which means it’s brunch day. it’s a running tradition that’s stood for the four of you since your college days. the time and place has changed over the years, but everyone does their absolute best to attend every time. these tuesdays are your favorite, naturally.

you plop into an empty chair across from her with a heavy sigh. “good, that means i have time to bitch about how fucking horny i am before they get here.”

she snorts, taking a delicate sip of her latte. “what’s new?” she wonders sarcastically.

“you don’t understand,” you begin, leaning into the table, gripping the edge tightly. “it’s been months, and not like, a few, i mean it’s coming up on a year.”

natasha’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “a year? what about that guy you went on a few dates with a while back? didn’t anything happen with him?”

“no,” you grumble, sitting back in your chair and crossing your arms. you huff. “and even if something had happened, i doubt it would have been satisfying. i can probably count on one hand the amount of times sex has been even kinda pleasurable for me.”

“sounds like you’re picking shitty partners.”

you scowl. “i know that, but it’s not my fault. all these stupid men keep promising they’re gonna fuck me ten ways to sunday and not a single one of them can even get me to wednesday.”

natasha laughs. “you poor thing.”

“you’re really not helping me here,” you whine with a pitiful pout on your lips. “you are getting routine dickings, you have sam! i am not so lucky here.” you notice her attention flicks to somewhere behind you, but you’re not finished with your rant. “nat, i’m serious. all of my sex encounters are the equivalent of asking someone to scratch my back and then they scratch literally anywhere but the spot that itches. i want to be fucked so good that i cry, just—completely reduced to tears. is that too much to ask?”

nat is hiding her smile behind her hand, amusement painted across her sharp features. someone clears their throat behind you and you pinch the bridge of your nose. sam and bucky occupy the empty seats, sam next to natasha and bucky next to you. they’re both sporting wide grins, looking far too pleased about stumbling into this conversation.

sam opens his mouth, no doubt to make a smartass comment, but you cut him off before he can get a good inhale in.

“not a fucking word,” you grouse with a finger pointed in his direction.

he presses a hand to his chest, expression offended. “i would never make a joke about your truly tragic excuse of a sex life.”

bucky snickers quietly, but turns into a cough at your glare.

“i’ll murder you,” you promise.

“leave her alone, boys,” natasha says, rolling her eyes, though she’s visibly biting back her own laughter.

you huff, digging your wallet out of your purse. “i hate all of you,” you announce before getting up and going to stand in line to order.

bucky follows a moment later, coming to stand at your side and throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“that bad, huh?” he asks.

you don’t have to look at his face to know he’s probably smirking right now.

“fuck off,” you retort, not bothering to push his arm away since you know he’d only put it right back.

“aw, come on, don’t be like that,” he jests, “you know we just like to poke a little fun.”

you roll your eyes, throwing him an exasperated look. “yeah, but that was something only nat was supposed to hear. i hate talking about sex with you and sam because you two wouldn’t understand.”

“that’s not true,” bucky insists, which makes you roll your eyes again. “it’s not!”

“first of all, sam’s got natasha, so we both know they’re more than satisfied.” bucky tilts his head in acquiescence. “and you don’t have to worry about if you’re gonna have an orgasm when you hook up with somebody. men have it so easy.”

it’s probably not the best thing to talk about in line of a busy cafe (especially since you haven’t decided between a blueberry muffin or the ham and cheese croissant, and there’s only one person ahead of you now and you’d really rather not be discussing your lack of sex in front of an innocent barista) but it sort of feels good to get this off your chest, even if it’s to bucky.

“okay, definitely not true,” he replies with a frown. “i’m not always guaranteed an orgasm.”

you give him a skeptical glance. “i find that hard to believe.”

this time, it’s bucky who rolls his eyes. “whatever, whether or not i come when i have sex with someone isn’t what i was gonna talk about when i came over here.”

the person in front of you finishes their order and then you’re stepping up for your turn.

“hi, what can i get you today?” the young barista asks with a smile.

“a large mocha iced coffee with sweet cream and a blueberry muffin, please.” you pause, contemplating, then add, “and a ham and cheese croissant.”

if you can’t get fucked within an inch of your life then food will become your lover, you reason.

“just a black coffee for me, please,” bucky tells the girl, taking his wallet out of his back pocket and handing over his card to pay before you can stop him.

“i could’ve paid for mine,” you mumble.

“you also could just say thank you,” he replies with a short laugh as he ushers you to the side to wait for your order.

you pinch his hip, pouting. “thank you.”

“why does your gratitude come with violence?” he asks, rubbing the sore spot.

“you know how i am when people do nice things for me.”

“you should be used to it by now,” he points out.

“well, i’m not,” you huff. “anyway, what did you come over here to talk about then?”

bucky reaches up to scratch the back of his neck, uncharacteristically shy all the sudden. “uh, well. i dunno, i just thought… you know, since you’re not—i mean, not that you couldn’t be, just—you haven’t been, so maybe… fuck.”

“spit it out,” you say with a giggle, wondering what in the world’s got him so tongue-tied.

“why don’t you let me?” he blurts, averting his gaze immediately after.

you tilt your head in confusion. “let you what?”

he sighs heavily, working his jaw in frustration. “you know…” he begins, digging his thumbnail into a knick on the countertop in front of you. “let me fuck you until you cry.”

“what?”

just then, your order is called. bucky quickly grabs it and turns to make his way back to the table, but you grab his arm to stop him.

“i don’t think so, you come back here right now and explain yourself,” you demand.

his eyes lift heavenward. “it’s just an idea, okay?”

“bucky, you’re talking about crossing a huge line. you can’t just throw that out all willy nilly!”

“i know,” he replies earnestly. “and it’s not—“ he grimaces at the phrasing, “willy nilly. you’re one of my best friends. i wouldn’t jeopardize that for anything, and i wouldn’t offer this if i thought that it could. this is something that’s obviously affecting you negatively in your life and i’m willing to help. i trust you, and i’m pretty sure you trust me, yeah?”

“of course i trust you,” you say, frowning.

he shrugs. “so, then it’s just��� a friend helping another friend.”

“you make it sound so simple,” you muse in wonder.

“think about it?” he implores.

you swallow roughly, biting the inside of your cheek. “fine. i’ll think about it.”

he nods and walks back over to the table where sam and natasha are waiting. you hesitate for only a split second before following.

needless to say, you’re distracted for the rest of brunch.

***

you: what even makes you think you could fuck me until i cry anyway?

it’s been nearly a week, and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re actually considering taking bucky’s offer. it’s all you can think about since he brought it up. you can’t lie, you’ve always thought bucky was attractive, but ever since you were gently but firmly placed in the friend category back in university, you never allowed yourself to think of there ever being more between the two of you. he’s a wonderful friend to have and you’d have been an idiot to pass it up. bucky is kind and generous and just enough of an asshole to keep things interesting without it being a problem.

but this… this has left you reeling. why would he make such an offer after only ever keeping things strictly friendly and platonic in your relationship? and more importantly, where does he get the confidence to think he could follow through?

bucky: experience?

you make a face at your phone, furiously typing your reply.

you: ew. do you realize how douchey that sounds?

bucky: well, it’s not douchey if it’s true.

you: says you

bucky: and a few other people :)

bucky: you’d know it too if you’d let me fuck you

you exhale harshly through your nose, tapping your foot on the floor anxiously, carefully thinking of what you should say next.

you: it’s apparently a tall request, and thus far, nobody’s been able to deliver. you can understand my skepticism…

bucky: if i don’t leave you shivering and twitching with aftershocks of pleasure, in a mess of sweat and come, and tears stained on your cheeks, then i will have failed you.

your thighs squeeze together at the mental image that brings you. jesus christ, if he’s half as good at fucking as he is dirty talking then he just might do as he’s promising.

bucky: so? what do you say? wanna give it a try?

biting your lip, you give yourself a moment to weigh the pros and cons in your mind one last time.

it doesn’t take you very long to make your decision.

you: okay. we’ll try.

***

it’s a slightly overcast sunday when bucky comes over with the direct intention to fuck you. it should be weird, but strangely, all you feel is anticipation. maybe it’s because you know him so well and know that, no matter what, he’d take care of you.

(or, maybe it’s because those repressed college-aged feelings are doing their best to resurface, even though you steadfastly continue to ignore them.)

you’d taken a thorough shower earlier to ease the little bit of nerves you had when you’d woken up. cleaning up the small mess your apartment gathered over the last couple weeks helped, as well, and soon you found yourself standing in front of your lingerie drawer with your lips pursed.

you weren’t sure if you should even bother with it, but it felt you wouldn’t be putting in any effort into this encounter if you didn’t at least pick out nice underwear. so, with a pleased nod, you settle on some simple black lace panties and a matching bralette. not too much, but enough to satisfy yourself, and hopefully bucky. you pick out a simple sundress to put on over it, since you won’t be wearing much of anything once bucky gets here. that thought has you flushing, but you ignore it to put on some makeup, just to freshen up your face.

by the time he knocks on your door, you’ve already finished a glass of wine and are pouring yourself a second.

he smiles when open the door, a bit boyishly, greeting you with a quiet, “hi.”

“hi,” you return, just as soft. you open the door wider. “come in.”

he walks passed you, stopping to toe his shoes off and hang his jacket on one of the hooks.

“do you want a glass of wine?” you ask as you head to the kitchen to retrieve your own from the counter.

bucky follows, stopping in the entryway with his hands in his pockets. “no, thank you.”

you nod, taking a sip from your glass, trying to figure out what to say. the air feels a little awkward and you’re not sure how to fix it.

“nervous?” he wonders curiously.

you shake your head. “not really.”

he quirks a brow. “then what’s wrong?”

“i don’t know,” you murmur. “i guess i’m just worried we’re making a mistake.”

he hums. you take a larger sip of your wine.

with cautious steps, he comes closer to you. “what if i promise that things won’t be weird after?”

“you can’t really promise that, though.”

“sure i can,” he says, smiling. “it’s me and you. we’ve been friends for so long. plenty of people have sex and stay friends after.”

you’re not just ‘people’ to me, you think.

you sigh, frustrated with yourself. you can’t deny how badly you want this. it’s all you’ve been able to think about since that day in the cafe. but the thought of losing bucky is heartbreaking, and you don’t want your stupid horniness to be the reason that you ruin a friendship, even if he was the one to offer sex.

“why don’t we go make out on the couch for a little while first?” he suggests after a moment’s pause.

you snort, in spite of your thoughts. “like a couple of teenagers?”

his eyes crinkle on the sides when he grins. “yeah. we’ll just see how we feel about that, and if it leads to more, then…” he trails off, shrugging.

“that’s not a bad idea,” you concede.

“great! finish your wine.”

you laugh and do as you’re told, downing the little remaining wine in one go, sitting the glass down on the counter resolutely as you swallow.

“let’s do this,” you say, determined.

bucky huffs a laugh, grabbing your wrist and tugging you behind him as he makes his way to the couch. he settles slightly facing you as you tuck your legs under you beside him.

“do you wanna talk, or do you want to jump straight into it?”

“if we talk anymore i’m gonna change my mind. just kiss me already, bucky.”

“yes ma’am,” he sasses before doing exactly that.

he cups your cheek with one hand as the other is placed on your knee. he guides your face to his and kisses you chastely. you’re not sure where to put your hands at first, but you tell yourself to quit being a goober about it and place them on either side of his neck, your thumbs brushing under his jaw.

it’s an okay kiss, you have to admit, but it’s not really doing anything for you yet. he has soft lips, softer than you thought they’d be. you’re beginning to wonder if maybe this confirms you shouldn’t go any further when he tilts his head, and… hm.

he parts his lips, taking your bottom one between his, kissing it, then nipping it. you wouldn’t say the sound you make is a gasp, necessarily, but it’s close. his tongue lightly caresses the seam of your mouth and you don’t even think before you open up for him, letting his tongue sweep in, flicking against yours. you hum, scooting a tiny bit closer to him, chasing the feeling. his kisses turn insistent then, teeth biting at your bottom lip and tugging, soothing the ache with his tongue. he kisses you like a man quenching his thirst, like you’re the best goddamn thing he’s ever tasted, and it’s leaving you dizzy. you sway more into his space and he pulls away from your mouth.

“c’mere,” he whispers, gripping behind one of your knees to drag it over his hips so you’re straddling him. “much better.”

you don’t have a chance to process anything about the moment, his mouth back on yours in a blink. your fingers wind themselves into his hair, getting a good grip on it as you lick into his mouth. he lets out a soft noise at that and you try your damnedest to pry it out of him again, pressing your chest to his so there’s not even a sliver of space left between you.

his hands travel, down the sides of your torso to your thighs, back up to your hips where he holds on tight. it doesn’t take long after that before you find yourself grinding into him. you both moan at the same time, breaking the kiss to pant for breath.

you swallow roughly. “okay,” you murmur, “i think it’s safe to say this could work.”

bucky laughs quietly. “yeah? wanna move to your bed then?”

your squeeze your thighs around him, shifting minutely on his lap and feeling the beginnings of his erection beneath you. “yes,” you breathe.

quickly, you rise from your position and step back, allowing bucky to stand, then grab his hand and lead him to your bedroom. once you’re standing beside your bed, you turn to face him. he meets your halfway, pulling you into another, filthier kiss. you reach for his belt buckle, unfastening it and sliding it through the loops, tossing it to your floor. next are the button and zip of his jeans, shoved down his legs until he steps out of them and kicks them and his socks aside. he obediently lifts his arms when you slide your hands under his shirt and begin pushing it up, breaking the kiss to nearly yank it off, making bucky huff in amusement. once it’s tossed with the rest of his clothes, bucky grabs fistfuls of your dress and pulls you into him.

“my turn,” he says against your lips.

carefully, bucky helps you out of your dress, eyes raking over every bit of new skin shown to him. he bites his lip when he sees your lacy underthings.

“you got all dolled up for me?” he asks.

shifting under his stare, you nod. “wanted to look nice,” you admit.

he hums. “beautiful.”

he kisses you again, a little softer than before, but no less passionate. the urgency returns as he backs you up until your thighs hit the mattress. gently, he guides you onto your back, never breaking the kiss as he follows you down and settles over you.

you soon find yourself in need of air and pull away with a gasp. bucky is undeterred and instead presses his kisses down your jaw, to your neck where he decides to bite and suck until he’s left a mark you’ll have to reprimand him for later. he licks his way up to your ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth, drawing a whine out of you.

“bucky,” you whisper, hands gripping his sides as you squirm below him.

“hm?”

you close your eyes tightly when he makes his way back down to your collarbones.

“please,” you whimper.

“please what, sweetheart?” he asks, pushing himself up to look you in the eye.

“t-touch me,” you beg, cheeks flushing.

his lips quirk into a smile. “i am touching you.”

“bucky,” you whine.

“where do you want me to touch you, hm?” he wonders. one of his hands trails across your shoulder and down the center of your chest. “here? or… here?”

when his fingers glide, barely there, over your pebbled nipples, you push into the touch eagerly.

“or…” he continues, his feather light touch making a path down your stomach. your breath quickens in anticipation. “here?” he murmurs as his fingertips stop on your pantyline.

“yes, there, anywhere,” you agree hastily, “just —please. please, bucky, don’t tease me.”

he kisses you again, deep, full of promise. “you beg so prettily for me.”

he rearranges your positions until he’s between your spread thighs, sweeping his hands across the inside of them. he nods to your panties.

“may i?”

“yes, please,” you reply, lifting your hips to help him take them off.

he doesn’t give you a chance to close your legs in shyness, firmly grasping your knees in each of his hands and spreading them once again. the way he’s looking at you makes you feel unbelievably desirable, has excitement crawling up your spine.

“don’t forget,” you remind him, making his eyes flick up to yours in question, “you better make me cry.”

a slow, dangerous smile graces his lips. your stomach swoops eagerly.

~

a whine, high pitched and drawn out, escapes your lips. after you unwittingly challenged him, bucky took it upon himself to torture you—with sex. so far, he’s only used his fingers on you, in you, thrusting them steadily but never enough to bring you to climax. he’s taking his time and being a smug prick about it. you go to complain, again, hoping if you beg enough he’ll let you come, but before you can do more than open your mouth he’s quickening his pace.

“oh!” you gasp, clutching the sheets in your hands.

bucky slides his hand down your thigh, bringing his thumb inward to swipe around where his other fingers are buried inside you to gather your wetness and using it to rub circles on your clit. your back arches, head thrown back against your pillows as you feel your orgasm build. it’s not tears, but damn, it feels good enough.

just as you start to clench around his fingers, legs spasming, he stops.

your eyes open in a hurry, brows furrowing in confusion. “no, please, don’t stop,” you plead.

bucky smiles. “i gotta get the right build up.”

you groan in frustration. he laughs quietly and lets the inferno burning within you simmer down to embers, then starts inching his way down until he’s lying on his stomach, mouth poised above your pussy. the feel of his warm breath makes you shiver, and with no warning whatsoever, he leans in and sucks your clit into his mouth.

“fuckin’—oh my— bucky!”

you’re pretty sure you black out for the next several minutes, the only thing you’re aware of is the thudding of your heartbeat in your ears and the feel of bucky’s mouth on you. you’re lost in a mindless haze of pleasure, unable to think or feel anything else. you feel your orgasm cresting for the second time, and just as before, bucky pulls away before you can succumb to it.

“why,” you hiccup on a moan, wanting nothing more than to just come already, but he’s not letting you.

he shushes you, softly kisses your knee. sitting up to take his underwear off, bucky keeps his eyes on you, expression hungry.

“gonna take care of you, sweetheart,” he promises. “just a bit more. you’re being so good for me, yeah?”

“please,” you whimper, feeling completely pathetic.

he makes quick work of putting a condom on and then settles between your thighs. you sigh in relief when he wastes no time and pushes in, being careful not to go too fast. once he’s fully inside you, he pauses, wanting to give you time to adjust, but you’re back to whining.

“bucky, please, please just—fuck me,” you beg, squirming beneath him.

he takes mercy on you, finally, and sets a hard pace. your hands fly up to push against the headboard, moaning and gasping from his harsh thrusts, loving the stretch of him inside you. his thumb is back on your clit and you cry out, clenching hard around him, but his thrusts don’t falter. all too soon, you can feel yourself getting close. you hear your own voice chanting please, please, please, mixed in with bucky’s grunts and the sound of him fucking you.

you whimper, eyes squeezed shut as your climax hits the point of no return, crashing over you in waves. you think you might scream, but it’s hard to pay attention to anything other than the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. part of you thinks this’ll be it, bucky will come now and then you’ll have had one of the best orgasms of your life and he’ll be on his merry way home. but no, that’s not what happens.

instead, bucky keeps thrusting relentlessly into you, dragging out your pleasure to the point of oversensitivity.

“s’too much,” you breathe, gasping for air.

bucky shakes his head, face contorted in concentration. “one more,” he tells you, voice gruff and deep.

unbelievably, you feel tears beginning to gather in the corners of your eyes. bucky’s still rubbing your clit, still keeping a steady rhythm of his hips, and fuck, he’s so beautiful. you watch him fucking you, wondering how the fuck you got to this moment, how you got lucky enough to bear witness to the sight of bucky fucking, let alone be the one he fucks. his body is ridiculous, looking like it’s carved from marble. you know how much strength it holds, as well, know that if he really wanted to, he could probably fuck you against a wall.

it’s with that thought, with the added bonus of the way bucky touches you, looks at you, like you’re something treasured and gorgeous, giving you such intense pleasure, that the tears threatening to spill over finally fall from your lashes.

bucky notices, because of course he does, and he thrusts into you just a little faster, a little harder, and your body seizes up and then you’re falling into another orgasm. it spreads through your veins, slow like honey, making sure this one settles deep into your bones. bucky groans as he, too, reaches climax, hips twitching into you in aftershocks until he stops moving altogether.

you both pant for breath, sweat gathered in every crevice on your bodies. you think you won’t be able to move for the rest of the weekend.

“need to pull out,” bucky says softly, breaking the moment.

you nod and he carefully pulls his hips back, grunting. you poorly suppress a whimper and close your legs, already hating the empty feeling.

“well,” he starts, plopping himself on his back next to you, “i think i deserve some kind of reward.”

when you turn to face him with an exasperated look, he’s got his arms crossed behind his head, a smug smile across his lips.

“how about i don’t kick you in the balls? how’s that for a reward?”

“i literally just did the impossible.”

“what, made me come twice? i can do that all on my own. you’re not special,” you retort with a huff.

he scoffs. “i fucked you so good you cried.”

“you can’t prove it,” you say to the ceiling.

“keep up this attitude and i won’t do it again,” he threatens, poking you in your side.

you wiggle away from the ticklish touch while trying to tamp down on the hope bubbling in your chest.

“oh, we’re doing this again, are we?” you say as casually as possible.

he rolls his eyes. “of course we are. now,” he sits up in your bed, stretching his arms as he stands and picks up his underwear, “i’m starving. wanna order takeout?”

well, you guess if you’d been worried about any kind of awkwardness before, you shouldn’t have. this is bucky, your best friend. he’d never let things change between you.

***

except, things kinda change between the two of you.

it’s not very noticeable at first, changes so subtle you miss them, until one day he showed up at your apartment and greeted you with a kiss. you stood frozen in your doorway as he rambled about how stressful his day had been as he kicked his shoes off. it was only when you heard him calling out from the kitchen that he was gonna eat your leftovers that you snapped out of it, yelling back that you’d kick his ass if he even touched your dumplings.

another day, he facetimes you and asks if you want to go to see that new movie you’ve been talking about.

“oh,” you’d said. “are nat and sam coming, too?”

he’d given you a funny look, replied, “no, i thought it would just be us two.”

“oh,” you said again. “okay.”

so you’d gone to the movies, let him buy you buttery popcorn and peanut m&m’s and a soda bigger than your head. he shared with you, despite your protests, and halfway through the film you felt his hand settle on your thigh. you blinked and stared at it for a beat, turning to him in question. he only smiled at you briefly before focusing back on the movie.

in between all of this, you continued calling him over for sex. honestly, how could you not? as much as you didn’t want to admit it to him, he was the best you’ve ever had. and if he’s so willing, why shouldn’t you take advantage while you can?

a week ago, though, you’d texted him and asked him to come over, replying to his question of what time and then started getting ready. you’d purchased a new piece of lingerie, a periwinkle babydoll nightie, that left very little to the imagination. it had a matching pair of panties and felt soft and luxurious on your skin. you’d taken extra time to do your hair and makeup, wanting to look like sex on legs, and you’re pretty sure you succeeded.

but when he got there and you answered the door in your sexy outfit, he didn’t see it right away. in one hand he held his phone, typing something on it, and in the other hand he held a grocery bag that you eyed curiously.

“i brought stuff to make spaghetti—“

when he did finally look up, his eyes widened and traveled the length of your body several times. you bit your lip, trying and failing to hold back your smile.

“how about we skip dinner?” you’d said, fisting his nice button-up shirt and dragging him inside your apartment. you grabbed the grocery bag from his hand and sat it on the floor, absently noting he was wearing his date jeans.

whoops, you’d thought, hope i didn’t pull him away from someone important.

you hadn’t let yourself dwell on it, standing up on your tippy toes and kissing him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. he’d returned the kiss, licking into your mouth, drawing your tongue out so he could suck on it and made you moan embarrassingly loud.

“wait,” he’d murmured, “we should eat first.”

“or, you could eat me,” you’d retorted with a giggle.

he groaned like it pained him to say no, gripped your hips hard and put a tiny bit of distance between you. the look in his eyes had made you want to find the nearest flat surface and bend over.

“why don’t you be a good girl for me, hm? let me cook dinner for us and after we eat i’ll fuck you however you want me to. okay, sweetheart?”

you whined, but ultimately agreed, knowing he’d make it worth it.

and then there’s tonight, where he came over unannounced, armed with groceries again and promising to cook you the best meal you’ve ever had. to say you were confused would be an understatement, but you also didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth.

it’s just… well, bucky’s not really acting like a friend with benefits. sure, you hung out alone with him all the time before, but he never once cooked you dinner, and he certainly never helped wash dishes after. you guess the hello kisses could be explained away as part of the new aspect of your relationship, but something about that didn’t sit quite right with you.

after a truly delicious dinner, you find yourself on the couch with bucky as he scrolls through netflix to find a movie to put on.

“what do you want to watch?” he asks.

“mm,” you mumble, shifting closer to start kissing his neck, “don’t care.”

as he narrows down his decision and finally picks one, you make your way up to his jaw, sucking a small mark into the skin there.

“baby,” he protests softly, “let’s just watch the movie, yeah?”

you pull back, confused. first at the pet name, then at his words. he’s never denied you before, which isn’t to say that he can’t, it’s just that he’s always seemed on board. and, you know, you thought that was kind of the whole point of this thing.

“okay,” you reply after a moment.

he gives you a smile and a sweet kiss, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his side to cuddle. you can’t help but frown, feeling like you’re missing something, but not knowing what it could be.

it doesn’t take long for drowsiness to creep up on you. before he showed up, you had planned on probably ordering out for dinner and going to bed early since you’d had a pretty rough day. in fact, you remember texting bucky about it just that afternoon. your eyelids get heavier and heavier, finding it harder to keep them open as the seconds pass. your head droops and in the next blink, you’ve fallen asleep.

you’re not sure how much time has passed when bucky wakes you, but you groan, pouting and burrowing into his shoulder more.

he huffs a laugh. “c’mon, sweetheart, let’s get you to bed.”

“don’ wanna move,” you mumble tiredly.

“i’ll carry you,” he offers. “up you go, baby.”

you half heartedly argue about being jostled, but let him carry you to your bed where he carefully places you, helping you out of your sweatpants and pulling your blankets up around you. you sigh in content, feeling yourself already drifting back into sleep. you hear bucky shuffling, but think nothing of it until the bed dips beside you, then feel his warm body slide in underneath the covers and press in close.

“goodnight, darlin’,” he murmurs.

you’d ask him what in the word he’s doing, but sleep is just far too enticing to ignore. you fall into slumber with bucky’s warmth along your back, his arm draped over you.

the next morning, you wake to the feeling of his fingers playing with the tiny bow on the front of your panties and his lips placing gentle kisses on your shoulder. you hum, eyes still closed, in the back of your mind thinking this is a nice way to wake up. at the sound of you, his touches get firmer, more insistent.

“good morning,” he rasps, breath tickling your ear.

you don’t really get a chance to reply. he dips his fingers into your panties, making you inhale sharply, moaning as you buck into his hand. he fingers you for a while, kissing along the column of your throat, biting and sucking marks into the skin there. when you’re begging him for more, he relents, eases your panties off and lifts your leg to slide in from behind. the angle is so nice it has you gasping.

you clutch the sheets weakly, burying your face in your pillow and muffle your whines and moans. bucky keeps a slow, lazy rhythm, acting as if he’s got all the time in the world to draw this out. it’s good, so good, and you can’t hold back your whimper when he kicks up the pace a little, tells you to touch yourself. you come seconds before he does, shuddering through it and humming happily.

as you both lie there and catch your breath, awareness trickles into your mind. you swallow roughly, staring blankly at the wall as you realize your feelings have grown far too much for this to be only casual anymore.

bucky kisses your shoulder again. “i’m gonna go make breakfast, okay? i’ll call you when it’s ready.”

“okay,” you whisper, blinking rapidly to keep tears from forming.

hearing bucky bustle around your kitchen makes your heart clench with want; want for something you can’t have.

***

bucky: dinner tonight?

you bite the inside of your cheek as you stare at the text. you know you need to cut things off with him before you get anymore hurt than you already are. it’s not fair to either of you if you continue with this arrangement when you’ve caught real feelings for him. you have to tell him, and soon. with that thought in mind, you type out a reply.

you: sure. what time?

bucky: reservations are at 8pm, i’ll pick you up by 7:45.

reservations? where was he taking you? you get another text before you can ask.

bucky: dress nice ;)

with a sigh, you text back an affirmative and try to start mentally preparing yourself for the conversation you dreaded having. you could only hope and pray that he agrees to still be your friend after.

by the time there’s a knock on your door that night, you’ve worked yourself up into an anxious mess. you open the door to see bucky standing there with a single peach colored rose and a bashful grin.

“hi,” he greets, leaning in to kiss you on your cheek. “this is for you.”

he hands you the rose and you feel your heart crack in your chest. you muster a small smile.

“thank you. let me go put this in a vase and we can head out.”

he nods and waits patiently at the door. as you fill a vase with a little water, you take a deep breath, giving yourself a mental pep talk.

this was going to suck.

the drive to the restaurant doesn’t take too long, and when you see where he’s taken you, your eyebrows shoot up. this is one of the nicer places in the city, definitely not on the affordable side. he helps you out of the car, leading you inside with his hand on the small of your back. you’re led to a small booth in a far corner with overhead lighting that feels too intimate. maybe you’d have to wait until you left to tell him…

conversation is light, a bit surface level, and you get the feeling that bucky is a little nervous. you wonder if maybe he’s gonna let you down gently first, hoping that he doesn’t, because you’d rather not cry in such a fancy restaurant.

after the waiter takes your drink orders, bucky sighs.

“okay, let me just… get this off my chest.”

oh fuck, here it goes.

“i know i’ve never really come across at the most romantic guy, especially since i’ve never felt the need to be.” he runs a nervous hand through his hair. “you’ve always been so important to me, and this last month has been so, so wonderful.”

“bucky…” you trail off, attempting to somehow stop him, but he powers through.

“i just—i never thought i’d find somebody, you know?” he says, earnest, gaze locked on yours. another crack in your heart. “especially not somebody who was my friend first, that i already had a solid foundation with. the attraction had always been there, but the friendship meant more to me, and finally allowing that to blossom into this amazing, new, fun relationship has got to be the best decision i’ve ever made.”

did he start dating someone and not tell you? oh god, has he been sleeping with someone else? at the same time? your stomach turns, eyes burning, hating yourself more and more as he speaks.

“so, i guess what i’m trying to say is,” he says, rolling his eyes at himself and smiling, “happy one month anniversary, sweetheart.”

you blink, feeling a tear slip down your cheek. “what?” you croak, beyond confused.

bucky, however, looks concerned. “baby, why are you crying?”

“i…” you blink some more, eyes flitting around the room as if you’ll get some kind of clarity that way to the situation currently happening. “what?” you repeat.

“did i come on too strong?” he asks, looking embarrassed now. “i wasn’t sure if you’d even want to celebrate, but i’ve just been so happy with you—i’m sorry, baby, i should’ve asked.”

“bucky, what are you talking about?” you finally manage, unable to keep the bewilderment out of your tone. “anniversary?”

bucky frowns. “i didn’t get the date wrong, did i?”

“no, i—this isn’t—i’m not talking about—ugh, i mean, when did we even start having an anniversary to celebrate?”

bucky’s face goes blank, sitting back in his chair. your heart is pounding wildly in your chest, so fucking confused, so fucking hopeful.

“we… we’re dating,” he says, slow, unsure. “aren’t we?”

“since when?” you ask probably too loudly, cheeks flushing.

he opens and closes his mouth a couple times. “when i asked you out?”

“bucky, oh my god, you’re gonna have to be more specific before i lose my goddamn mind. when did you ask me out?”

he huffs, his own cheeks flushing. “at the cafe! a month ago, at brunch with natasha and sam.”

your eyes widen in disbelief. “when you asked if you could fuck me until i cried?” you hiss, ignoring the scandalized look on the waiter’s face as he brings your drinks over.

smiling apologetically, you thank him and wait until he’s gone before sending a glare bucky’s way.

“that’s not how you ask a person out,” you seethe.

“i asked if you wanted to give this a try and you said yes!” he replies desperately. “i’ve taken you on dates!”

you pinch the bridge of your nose, thinking of all the times you thought he was being too romantic, more-than-friends type of behavior. you’re a fucking idiot, but god, so was he.

“at no point did you say anything even remotely close about us starting a relationship. i thought we were just fucking, bucky, i didn’t realize it was more than that!”

“you don’t—“ he starts, then stops, looking down at the plate in front of him. “you don’t want to be with me?”

“i didn’t know it was an option,” you say carefully.

“well, it is.” he meets your gaze, cautious. “i just spilled my guts to you. you know how i feel now. how do you feel? about me?”

you lick your lips. “bucky, i… i was planning to end things with you tonight.” his expression drops, even though he tries to mask it, so you’re quick to explain. “not because i don’t like you, but because i do like you and i thought you wouldn’t want anything more than just sex with me.”

“it’s never been and never could have been just sex with you,” he replies, quiet and relieved. he reaches across the table to take your hand in his. “i meant it when i said you’re the best decision i’ve ever made. i want this—the sex, the dinners, dates, all the gross and sappy shit i never wanted before… i want it all with you, if you’ll have me.”

you can’t fight the smile spreading across your lips. “of course i’ll have you, bucky.”

he smiles in return, a laugh bubbling out of him, which makes you giggle, until you’re both laughing so hard and loud that patrons from other tables are sending dirty looks your way, which only makes you laugh more.

“do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, laughter dying down. “there’s pizza and sex calling our names, i think.”

bucky moans dramatically. “i knew i liked you for a reason.”

he leaves money on the table and then the two of you quickly make your way through the restaurant, giggling and holding hands the whole way, even in the car.

[lionhanie]

boynextdoor playing minecraft! (ot6 hc)

what happens when boynextdoor starts a minecraft server?

word count: 1.2k i think

genre + warnings: crack LOL, cursing, written in lowercase, typos

a/n: this is so stupid LMAO. (i was playing mc earlier whos gonna match my freak)

reblogs ↺ + feedback always appreciated!

featuring… sungho as numberonecatdad! riwoo as LeeSanghyeok! (he didn’t know he was making his username when he made the account. literal full government name out there)  jaehyun as myungj4e! taesan as GiantMountain! leehan as 212121_! woonhak as xxBlockBeastxx2006! (he made it in 4th grade. says he keeps the name for the nostalgia he doesnt know how to change it)  

→ Join Server?

☆ sungho: the builder

i feel like sungho wouldn’t really be interested in playing mc “seriously” but BOYYYY get him into creative and he’s locking the hell in. ik he does NOT play when it comes to building The Ultimate Spruce Wood Base

he got sick of seeing jaehyun build dirt huts as shelter in their worlds so he took on the role of being the MAIN BUILDER… main vocal? yeah. main builder is his TRUE calling. but i genuinely think he’d be good at it LOL his attention to detail is insane

making entire mansions in survival except he doesn’t even collect the blocks himself. he just waits til people come home with them and he steals them for his builds

In the chat… numberonecatdad: who made this farm by my house 212121_: me and riwoo 212121_: y???? numberonecatdad: … LeeSanghyeok: wjats wrong with it :( numberonecatdad: it’s … so bad LeeSanghyeok: it took us 2 hrs to make btw 212121_: okay but it works numberonecatdad: HALF THE CROPS ARE TRAMPLED numberonecatdad: stay away. leave this to me

the next day its a full fledged farm. windmill in the background. beautiful fields of potatoes and wheat surrounded by a pretty fence. flowers adorning the whole thing. true masterpiece 

☆ riwoo: the noob

i think he’s not really the type to play games like mc. like give him tiny tower or something and he’s at like 400 floors.. neko atsume? he got all the cats unlocked. but MINECRAFT? idk i feel like he’s just 🙂 when he plays bc he has no idea what’s going on

everyone will be off adventuring on their own.. minding their business.. and then there's a death message in the chat saying riwoo died to something so incredibly random. everyone is just like ??? bc wdym you died to a berry bush

the members think its so cute how he’s just… there for the ride! but they can’t help but mess around with riwoo because he is truly lost  & blindly trusts everything they tell him bc he doesn’t know any better

In the chat… 212121_: riwoo stand right there LeeSanghyeok: why 212121_: ima show u a cool easter egg LeeSanghyeok: okie ^_^ LeeSanghyeok was squashed by a falling anvil. LeeSanghyeok: wat was the easter egg LeeSanghyeok: i dont get it xxBlockBeastxx2006: LKSJKJFHKJSnfd;sf GiantMountain: oh riwoo GiantMountain: if u left click u can pet the bees and they heal u LeeSanghyeok: rlly? thats cool i wanna try myungj4e: DONT DO IT LeeSanghyeok was stung to death. numberonecatdad: leave that poor boy ALONE

after that, riwoo learns to be cautious of the maknae line.... he just stays with sungho collecting flowers for his builds or lighting up the caves jaehyun explores and running from the mobs :,)

☆ jaehyun: the miner

jaehyun is definitely the type to go straight to mining when you start up a new world. the second everyone sees "myungj4e has just earned the achievement [Acquire Hardware]" they KNOW he's clocking into his full time job in the mines bye

it’s 30 mins in and he has half a set of diamond armor to his name and they’re like ?? bro we just started can you be fr rn… if any of the members ask for materials he won’t do it unless he’s getting something out of it (don’t tell anyone but he made riwoo a set of diamond tools when everyone is still using iron 😍 true romance i think)

lowkey everyone is convinced he has x-ray installed or something bc of how good he is at mining

In the chat… numberonecatdad: can i get three diamonds for a new pickaxe myungj4e: lmao NO  myungj4e: wat do i get in return numberonecatdad: how do you live in a dirt shack and have diamond armor GiantMountain: embarrassing.... myungj4e: okay making fun of the less fortunate now??? numberonecatdad: ill build u a house if u give me diamonds myungj4e: k fine  xxBlockBeastxx2006: OH BUT WHEN I ASK FOR DIAMONDS I DONT GET ANY

at the end of the day tho... he's lowkey a blessing bc if he's feeling nice enough he will hook u up with ANYTHING u need. the boys are spoiled w the way jae's chests are FULL of iron whenever they need it

☆ taesan: the fighter

unironically i think taesan would just be . oddly good at pvp. it’s like one of his random talents LOOOL "good at mc pvp" on his resume LOUD AND PROUD

like you load up into bedwars or something and he’s wiping out teams before you can even get yourself a proper set of armor. its lowkey attractive idk

in your survival world, he’s always instigating fights with the other members in hopes that they’ll want to fight. literally no one can kill him. he can probably 1v5 and still win

In the chat... myungj4e: WHO TOOK THE DIAMONDS FROM MY CHEST WHILE I WAS OFFLINE LeeSanghyeok: it was taesan GiantMountain: …what are u gonna do about it bro. huh. they’re mine now.  myungj4e: bro that was like a full stack. it took me like 3 hours to get them. where the hell are you  GiantMountain: why? you wanna fight for it? GiantMountain: whoever wins keeps the diamonds xxBlockBeastxx2006: oh ur cooked hyung myungj4e: OK DEAL myungj4e was slain by GiantMountain using Diamond Sword.

the way u can hear jaehyun RAGE through the dorm walls brings a smile to taesan's face bc he KNOWS he stays undefeated when it comes to pvp

☆ leehan: the troll

i think he’s similar to riwoo in the sense that he doesn’t rlly know whats going on but once they start their server you know DAMN well he’s looking up Top 15 BEST Ways To ANNOY Your FRIENDS in Minecraft! on youtube.,.. fucking loser (hearts in my eyes as i write this)

they’re usually harmless ones, like filling up jaehyun's chests with junk or renaming sungho's cat to something stupid like “Poopy Fart” or moving all of woonhak's cows from their pen

but ohh… if you piss him awf BADDD i think he would do some DIABOLICAL damage to the world. like imagine taesan is Also Trolling and he kills leehan before taking all of his stuff and running away into the distance. things would be quiet… too quiet…. until next thing u kno theres a whole trap waiting for taesan the second he walks into his house 

In the chat… 212121_: taesan do u still have my fishing rod GiantMountain: ye lol 212121_: can i have it back GiantMountain: LMAO GiantMountain: no 212121_: i think theres a creeper in ur house  GiantMountain: WHAT  GiantMountain was killed by magic while trying to escape 212121_.  numberonecatdad: LOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLLLLL GiantMountain: when the hell did you set that up 212121_: >:)

OKAY YES he spent 46 minutes following a tutorial on how to set up a death chamber full of the WORST potion effects ever ... but it worked so he's sitting at his monitor feelijng like an evil mastermind

☆ woonhak: the sweat

he is like the only one i imagined actually PLAYED minecraft growing up. he unironically enjoys watching minecraft streams too LMAO much like jaehyun, i think woonhak goes straight to mining in survival. except rather than /just/ mining, he’s literally trying to beat the game 

he's usually off on his own doing something but ngl .. i bet he's a backseat gamer when he see's someone doing smth wrong. let's say he's out exploring w riwoo and he's falling SO FAR BEHIND he doesn't know how to sprint he will literally walk into his room to show him how to run

bro probably watched Ender Dragon Speedruns growing up idk i feel like he’s determined to beat the world record (he won’t, but he will definitely try) 

In the chat... xxBlockBeastxx2006 has just earned the achievement [The End?] numberonecatdad: ? 212121_: ?? 212121_: is that what i think it is myungj4e: ../?//???? ?  ??? LeeSanghyeok: wat is that LeeSanghyeok: whys the achievement purple GiantMountain: r u fr rn 212121z: LMAO tryhard alert... xxBlockBeastxx2006: yooo chill we can always respawn it dw myungj4e: HOW DARE U KILL THE ENDERDRAGON WITHOUT US myungj4e: UR FAKE AS HELL xxBlockBeastxx2006 has been banned from the server by myungj4e

woonhak doesn't talk to jaehyun for the rest of the night (he's unbanned the next day, but they force him to restart so he isn't absolutely STACKED)

taglist: @onedoornet @dongminz (ty saki for supporting me with my bonedo mc thoughts LMFAO) @gluion @icyminghao

© lionhanie 2024 ; all rights reserved!

[scoops-aboy86]

Last Party of the Summer

Prompt Used: Pool party (@thehairandthebanished) and make-up sex (@steddiesmuttyseptember) | Last Party of the Summer | Rating: E | CW: hurt comfort, weight gain, body image issues, mildly intoxicated sex | Additional Tags: chubby Steve Harrington, miscommunication, breakup to makeup, makeup sex

also on Ao3

It’s hard to keep tabs on someone at a crowded pool party without being obvious about it, especially while working at getting drunk. But Steve, pausing to shotgun another beer, thinks he’s doing pretty good all things considered. He’s not glaring literal holes through Ed— through Munson’s stupid leather jacket, at least, so he can’t be that obvious. Even Tommy hasn’t commented on it, and Tommy isn’t one to notice things and not run his mouth, so there you go. 

He’s not being obvious at all. 

Then, out of nowhere, Eddie emerges from the crowd and uses a firm grip on his upper arm to propel him from the side of the pool back inside the house. Steve hadn’t even realized he’d lost track of the guy among their peers, which only adds to the unreal feeling of being frogmarched up the stairs and into his bedroom, ringed fingers burning like a brand through the sleeve of his t-shirt. 

“Alright,” Eddie snarls after kicking the door shut behind them. “You are the one who ended things, so what’s your fucking problem, Harrington? Mad that the riff raff got in to supply this dumb shindig with party favors?”

Indignance kick-starts Steve into scowling and yanking his arm away, crossing them across his chest. (But also, hearing his last name roll off Eddie’s tongue when just a few weeks ago he’d been ‘Stevie,’ ‘baby,’ ‘sweetheart’ makes something twist painfully in his chest.) “Watch what you’re calling dumb, Munson. You’re the one who snuck in uninvited.”

“It’s called working. It’s what some of us have to do when we don’t have daddy’s money to fall back on!”

The words make Steve take a sharp step back, because Eddie knows his parents throw money at him as though it’ll make up for never being around, never paying much attention to him unless there’s something to scold him for. How he’s gotten checks in the mail after making the winning shot or run or lap in an important match or getting a good grade on a big test, but they’re never there to actually see any of it; how he feels more like an employee or an investment than a son. 

And maybe it’s because he’s toeing the line of drunk, but his eyes sting. A little. 

“That’s a low fucking blow, freak,” Steve sneers, blinking hard. His crossed arms tighten further over his chest like he’s trying to keep something from breaking out, and he doesn’t care about the way Eddie’s face twitches. He doesn’t! “But I guess that’s par for the course with you, isn’t it? Never pull a single fucking punch.”

“I’ve pulled plenty,” Eddie sneers right back. 

Which is. Oh. That’s worse. 

“Why can’t you just leave me alone, huh?” And Steve can hear his voice going humiliatingly tight, there’s just nothing he can do about it. Fucking beer. “I told you to go, what’s the point in dragging me up here just to rub it in more, huh?”

Almost worse, what if someone had noticed them going up the stairs together? He could’ve withstood that before, when they were still… But now Steve is all alone, painfully unwanted even by the town loser, who must have pulled his punches long enough for the sake of getting laid for a while, just like all the girls who had ever found Steve wanting after a few dates. All he wants is his own sad business to stay pathetically his own, but Eddie just had to be out selling tonight. 

“Maybe I just wanted a little fucking closure, Steve.” Eddie leans back against the closed door, like he’s trying to get as far away as possible without leaving the room, glaring. There’s nothing soft in those eyes now, not anymore, not even as he says Steve’s first name instead of his last. A concession? No, it must just be a lapse. A lingering habit of familiarity, soon to be broken. “You kicked me out without any warning, and now you’re following me around with this look like I’m the one that did something wrong. Rub in what? What the fuck did I even do?”

Steve feels his jaw drop. “What did you do? Are you stupid or something?”

They’d been in Steve’s bed, plaid comforter kicked to the floor in their hurry, too wrapped up in each other to give even half a shit about the chaos of sheets around them. And maybe Steve had been a little self conscious about taking off his shirt that night, because it was between sport seasons and he hadn’t been keeping up with his workouts lately, too wrapped up in Eddie and shared joints that set his mind free from what Eddie called the ‘shackles of conformity.’ He’d still done it, stripped as eagerly as if he’d never noticed the way a few extra pounds had gone to his ass and belly lately. Because surely Eddie wouldn’t care. It was conformity to worry about that kind of shit so much, and Steve was trying to be better. To be someone Eddie could not just like, but respect, too. 

At first it was fine. Eddie pounced on him like he usually did, with a demanding kiss before lavishing attention on the constellations of Steve’s moles that lead from check to neck and further. He latched onto a nipple, teasing at the quickly tightening bud with teeth and tongue until pulling back in satisfaction and diving for the other. Then further down, raking his blunt, black-painted nails down Steve’s sides until he reached his waist, gripping… then, unusually, pausing. And then, then he’d—

“You laughed at me,” Steve spits, and oh god his eyes are really stinging now. That’s all he’s got, that four-word complaint, but it’s anything but little. Humiliation and hurt and shame coiling in his gut and making all the beer he’s downed tonight churn unpleasantly, because he’d been stupid to think that what they’d had wasn’t as superficial as everything else in this stupid town that Eddie wants to ditch the second he graduates. Everyone knows what the Freak of Hawkins High thinks about jocks. Probably sits around snickering to himself in his free time about how Steve’s let himself go—

“When the hell did I laugh at you?” Eddie is still pissed, still scowling at him, but there’s an undercurrent of bewilderment in his voice. (Steve recognizes it from the time he’d tried to explain the rules of baseball.) “Before or after you shoved me off, bare ass fucking naked, and told me to get my shit and get lost?”

“Before!” Steve can’t believe this. What is Eddie trying to do here, pretending he doesn’t know? “Right before that! When you… felt my stomach.”

Face burning at the admission, Steve is looking anywhere but Eddie and doesn’t know what to make of the sputtering noise at first. Until the lack of response gets to him and he glances, then focuses, then frowns, the tight cross of his arms loosening infinitesimally in distraction. 

Eddie is just… standing there, pointer finger held aloft in a ‘hold on a second’ gesture, his other hand pressed hard against his mouth and his eyes downcast in deep thought. 

It’s the same thing he does when he has a light bulb moment about a new plot point in a campaign and is trying to sort out in his head how all the threads of it mesh with what’s already there. The recognition makes Steve’s heart ache, regardless of how baffled he is to see it in this context. 

“Fuck,” Eddie mutters after a second, rubbing his hands over his face and sighing heavily, a hint of frustrated growl to it. “Well… fuck, okay.” 

He presses both hands together, tapping both pointer fingers against his lips and breathing out heavily through his nose, and finally looks up to make eye contact. 

“Okay, I just heard it how you must have heard it, and that’s—” A grimace passes across Eddie’s expressive face. “I wasn’t laughing at you, Steve. Pretty insulted that you’d just assume I even would, but that’s… that’s not the point.”

Steve blinks and keeps blinking, hard, not sure how the argument has turned into… this. He’s still mad, hurt, everything he was a minute ago, but now he’s confused too. And kind of indignant, a little unsure, half ready to tell Eddie to just get out again. “What? Dude, I heard you!”

“Not a laugh!” the metalhead insists. “This is so—For fuck’s sake, Steve, I liked it. I was excited, and I… I fucking giggled, alright?”

And… what?

“Giggled?” Steve repeats. 

“Yeah,” Eddie bites back, embarrassment coloring high on his cheeks. “Like a goddamn schoolgirl. I wanted to bite you there, you asshole,” he adds, but it lacks heat. His voice has gone tired, the fight draining out of him as he realizes—and as it occurs to Steve, if he’s telling the truth—that what they’d both been hissing mad about was a complete and tragic misunderstanding. 

“But… I don’t get it,” Steve says numbly. Maybe it’s the beer catching up to him, but his conviction is wobbling now and he feels off kilter. He shuffles a few more steps backwards until he runs up against the bed and sits so fast it feels like falling. “I’ve let myself go and you… I thought you…”

He’d been so sure. That laugh has been ringing through his head ever since he’d heard it, but suddenly it sounds like a caricature, like something out of a cartoon. 

Not how Eddie sounds at all.

“It’s not ‘letting yourself go’ to not be skin and bones, man,” Eddie says, shoving both hands in his pockets and looking down at the toes of his own sneakers. “Some padding never hurt anyone. I like it, alright?” Defensive, defiant, but… a little subdued now. 

Sad, Steve thinks, and then suddenly that’s all he can feel. It hits him that he’d pushed Eddie away, ended things between them… for no reason? 

His shoulders are already hitching up before he even registers that he's crying, wetness trickling straight down to dampen the hair at his temples. It’s been weeks. Weeks of being angry—he’s so tired of it, but the only alternative was to feel horribly lonely so he held onto it anyway, a rope burn on his soul to distract from the pain of his heart cracked in two. 

And he’d known as he watched Eddie earlier tonight that his gaze bordered on more pathetic than mad. Not quite cooled off enough to realize on his own that he’d made a mistake, but enough to recognize it now that reality (and Eddie) stares him in the face. 

It’s over for no reason. Eddie hates him now and if it was just a dumb misunderstanding then, then Steve absolutely deserves it—

The bed dips at his side. Not close enough that they’re touching, but that it happens at all is a surprise. And then Eddie murmurs “Stevie?” so hesitant it makes Steve choke. 

It’s the barest hint of an olive branch, and he’s absolutely going to blame the beer for how it makes the tears drip faster. He hasn’t felt this pathetic since the car ride home after one of the few basketball games his dad had ever bothered to attend, where Steve had missed not one but two easy free throw shots. 

“I’m so s-stupid,” he gasps wetly, and immediately feels even more pathetic for saying it out loud, as if it’s not obvious. He turns away, away from Eddie, trying to hide—his face, his body, everything. This is the worst pool party ever and he’s never drinking again. 

“You're not stupid, you dumbass. Hey.” Eddie touches his shoulder, keeps his hand light but there when Steve tries to shrug it off. He sighs heavily, almost a huff. “It’s not stupid to react to me pressing a button I didn’t know was there. Look—Would actually saying something instead of jumping right to kicking me out been better? Absolutely. That really fucking hurt, man.”

“Sorry,” Steve squeezes his eyes shut. “And sorry I called you a freak. You’re not, I don’t… I don’t really think that.”

There’s a pause, and then Eddie squeezes his shoulder. “Thanks, man. I’m, uh… sorry for the crack about your dad and calling you an asshole.”

“I am an asshole.” Steve’s eyes are already shut; he squeezes them tighter until colors start to bloom across the inside of his eyelids. “Fucking ruined everything over some stupid thing that was only ever in my head, so I… I deserve this. But you didn’t and I’m sorry, I hope you—” and here his throat tightens up, because he wants to say I hope you can forgive me, but that would be even more pathetic than he’s already being. “I hope you find s-someone who treats you better.”

This pause stretches out for a lot longer, so long that Steve would think Eddie had left if not for the remaining dip in the mattress and the hand-shaped brand on his shoulder. He’s just waiting for the agreement and for Eddie to finally leave for good, holding in a wordless, futile scream for when he’s alone. Fuck the party downstairs, he’ll call the cops himself if he has to just to clear them all out, and suck up whatever punishment he gets if the Hawkins PD decides to notify his parents. 

Finally, after a thousand fucking years of that scream burning a hole in Steve’s throat, Eddie says quietly, “Or, you could just… not do that again. Think you could do that for me, Stevie?”

Absolute fucking whiplash. 

Steve is so shocked he actually turns back to look, and all it takes is the sight of the other boy’s big brown eyes and the softness there, the tender flaming hope in them. “Yeah,” he croaks, doesn’t even think he sounds like himself anymore but at least he gets the word out. “Yes, Eds, please—”

And then Eddie is on him with a bruising kiss, scrambling to kick his shoes off while Steve scrambles at the black leather jacket, pulling it off to grab desperately where Eddie’s bare sides show through the intentionally ripped shirt beneath it. Ripped denim rasping against swim trunk fabric as Eddie straddles him, grinds down hard, refusing to let either of them up for air. Steve is just as hungry for it, just as desperate. 

It’s different. They’ve still got their residual hurts, he can taste it in the way Eddie bites at his lips, bites all the way down to his neck and sucks a dark claim on the side that Steve can’t help arching into with a moan. A breach of their unspoken rule not to mark each other because they can’t be out, not in this town and definitely not while they’re still only going into their junior and senior years, respectively—but Steve is in just the right mood not to give a shit about that right now. Although…

“Door,” he gasps, trailing off with a whine when Eddie rolls his hips down into his again. “Did you lock it?” 

Eddie pulls back fluidly with a curse under his breath, which Steve takes as a no. “Get these off while I’m gone,” he says, voice rough, and tugs at the waistband of Steve’s swimsuit. A second later he’s on his feet, backing away with a smoldering stare until Steve gets the hint. 

With a jolt, Steve shoves the trunks down, bracing his heels on the bed to tug them over his ass. His cock bobs free, and his breath catches at the way Eddie keeps watching until he backs into the door. 

“Good boy,” Eddie breathes, turning the lock behind his back. “Scoot back on the bed. After tonight, I’m going to make sure you’ll never think I’d laugh at you ever again.”

Steve does as he’s told, partly because he’s still shivering from the good boy (what is it about Eddie taking charge and calling him that, gets him every time) and partly because Eddie turns away to his tape player. Downstairs, it sounds like the party has seeped into the house; the living room speakers are thundering out don't you want me baby? at a volume that will probably spur the neighbors into action—morons. But all the better that the door is locked, if the party is going to ramp up unchecked; it’s only a matter of time before couples start breaking off to find any free privacy they can get. 

Eddie puts in a mix tape, one of the ones he’d gifted months ago for what he’d called Steve’s ‘auditory re-education,’ and moves the smaller player close to drown it out.

In that cocoon of some of the metal songs that Steve actually likes, Eddie comes back to bed stripped out of his jeans and shirt. He crawls up between Steve’s legs until he’s hovering over him face to face. Then he gathers up Steve’s wrists, moving them to cross against the headboard above his head, and Steve lets it happen because it makes breathing pick up, makes his pulse throb faster between his legs. 

“Keep these here,” Eddie says, and then kisses him so gently that Steve is shaking with the need to pull him closer, to have more. But the second he reaches to do so, Eddie catches him again. “Stevie…”

“I missed you so much,” Steve groans. Pouts, too, but lets Eddie replace his wrists above his head, not sure if he’s fully forgiven yet—doesn’t m is if this is penance or a reunion, or to what degrees it’s both. “Eds, please—”

He’s interrupted with another kiss, just as gentle and slow, but so unchaste it makes him feel like he’s melting. And then Eddie murmurs against his lips, “Missed you too. Let me show you, sweetheart.”

Before Steve has a chance to answer, Eddie wraps a hand (when had one of them left his wrists?) around his cock and drags a slow thumb over the head. 

“Just keep your hands up here for me and be good.”

With a shuddering breath, Steve tries. He keeps his hands in place while Eddie nuzzles down the front of his shirt to the soft swell of his stomach, no less noticeable than their last night together. (Watching what he eats is hard, okay? He’s a teenage boy, he gets hungry. And maybe he’s still a little bloated from the beer even though he can’t really feel the alcohol slowing him down anymore.) There’s a faint red line, visible when his shirt is lifted, where it’d pushed slightly over his waistband all night; Eddie presses a gentle kiss to it and sighs.

A good sigh, like this is exactly what he’s been waiting for. Steve’s heard it before when taking the other boy in his hand, in his mouth—and even if his mind is inclined to overthink it, his body is hardwired to respond. Precome dribbles onto Eddie’s fingers, easing the glide as he slowly, slowly starts to stroke. Makes Steve shiver with dueling sensations of shame and pleasure because Eddie is still kissing the little pooch of his tummy, free hand kneading gently over the softness at his side, starting to tip the scales with how good the combined attention feels. 

“That’s it baby,” Eddie tells him breathily, almost crooning. “That’s it…”

And slowly, slowly Steve starts to relax into it. He does try to look away a few times, overwhelmed, but Eddie answers each attempt by turning his face gently back and staring him down while kissing him more, tummy and soft sides and chest. Leaving love bites here and there. The sounds Eddie makes, pleased hums and low moans and quiet praise and Steve’s name, over and over. 

It feels like coming home. 

The next morning, Steve wakes up to Eddie kicking the door shut behind him as he comes back into the room. 

“Everyone’s cleared out, but you do not want to look out there,” Eddie announces, setting a tray piled high with easy breakfast foods (scrambled eggs, bacon, buttered toast, jam, poptarts, fruit), two mugs of coffee, and a jug of orange juice on the bed with a flourish before crawling back into it himself. “At least not before noon.”

Steve doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t care, because Eddie is here. Eddie is here. With a breakfast that perfectly suits his level of hungover—not bad, but not great. 

“Eds,” he starts, another apology ready to spill out, but Eddie pops a piece of toast into his open mouth and settles at his side. 

“We’re good,” the other boy says simply. “It was a dumb misunderstanding that made you feel hurt and sad and made me feel hurt and pissed off, but it’s untangled now. Just never try to dump me like that again and we’ll be fine, alright?”

“Uh-huh,” Steve agrees quickly through a full mouth. He’s struggling to chew the big bite that had been shoved in, reaching for Eddie’s hand. Eddie loops an arm around Steve before letting him take it and twine their fingers together. As soon as he swallows, he adds, “I don’t want to dump you.” Not ever again, he hopes, but it doesn’t feel like the right time to say so. Not right now, not something so big that it’ll sound like a grand empty promise right after making up. 

But Steve is pretty sure the fact that it hurt so much to push Eddie away means he’s capital L in love with him. 

“Good.” Eddie kisses him, a hint of sweetness on his lips that suggests he sampled some of the jam while cooking. “Now, eat up sweetheart. That makeup sex wiped me out, and we’ve got a lot more celebratory banging on the schedule for today. Gotta keep that strength up.”

And, he has a point. Steve feels the grumbling of his empty stomach, along with the easy throb of all the little marks Eddie had left on his body the night before as a form of… of worship or something. Reminders that maybe letting go isn’t such a big deal. Because if he skimps on breakfast when it’s what his body wants (needs), sooner or later he’ll get restless and cranky and risk ruining everything all over again. “Yeah, keep my strength up,” Steve agrees, feeling his face heat a little. But Eddie beams at him, starts fussing around with the pillows so they can recline comfortably while they eat—while offering Steve forkfuls of scrambled eggs and bites of this or that, really—and slowly, slowly relaxes into feeling like everything’s going to be okay.

Permanent tag list: @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @irishvampireboy @oatmilk-vampire

@wheneverfeasible @hamiltonswiftie @grtwdsmwhr @yesdangerpls @theseaofdespair

[jaskierx]

Every time I see some Taika slander on this app, I block. And I don’t even care about him because I have no clue how he is in real life, but I have enough of the bullshit. Taika is a Zionist? Block. Taika’s fault for whatever-pick-anything? Block. Taika is an evil man? Block. Taika doesn’t do enough to promote ofmd? Block. Taika did this and that in his private life? One, how the fuck would you know, random person who lives in Germany? Keep your nose out of his goddamn business. Second. BLOCK. Let’s celebrate Taika’s shows ending one after the other? You guessed it. Block. Someone literally said Taika’s ancestors are rolling in their grave in shame. Bloooocccckkkkk.

I have no words, this is vile. And this public character assassination has gone on for way too long, from medias and randos on the internet alike.

Those people who gloat and say the most horrendous things need to get off their moral high horse, clean in front of their doorstep and go outside to touch some grass. I don’t know why they’re so spiteful but they need to heal their soul. They’re keyboard activists that are looking for trends to be mad about so they can pretend to care and be morally superior. And then they can harass others. They don’t care and they can’t fool me and they can fuck off. Blockity block block block.

God… I got heated real quick. Sorry about that. But for real, I hope he stays the hell away from social media.

yeah i've blocked literally dozens of people in the last 30ish hours and the vast majority are people who have never watched ofmd who decided to go into the tag and post about how happy they are that the 'racist tv show' that's 'run by zionists' is cancelled and 'the zionists' are now 'unemployed'. or people who are casual fans of ofmd who were like 'meh s2 was bad and you could tell taika was bored of it'

it's just so fucking stupid. i hate this whole mentality that people are either 100% perfect and morally pure or they're evil and every bad thing that happens to them should be celebrated. i hate that people are so desperate to blame taika when the show wouldn't fucking exist without him. i hate that people are so confidently stating shit like 'david should've known taika couldn't commit for 3 seasons' like fuck that parasocial ass shit you don't know any of these people! imagine if it was the other way around and the cast started posting shit on twitter like 'lol lyse jaskierx should lose her job bc i can tell she's bored of spreadsheets'. it's ridiculous

[or0ch1maru]

Akatsuki Beach day HCs?(also include orochimaru if you don't mind) kisame is thriving

Anytime I think akatsuki and the beach I can only imagine absolute chaos

I’m loving all these fun and mushy scripts y’all are sending my way🖤🥺also, please don’t worry if it takes me a while to get to yours, my small business and my job(I work retail and it’s been a HOT MESS with Christmas right around the corner) tend to take up a lot of my time but I promise to get to every one you lovies send in<3

Okay, back to it..

•

🐚so for starters I could see Konan being the main planner. Food, drinks, making sure they have enough of literally everything they could need, as well as making sure everybody wakes up on time to leave.

🐠then for the majority of the time they’re at the beach she would be found relaxing under an umbrella reading or watching everybody have a good time.

🦞pain on the other hand would be trying to stop deidara from blowing up Tobi. (I’ll elaborate further down)

🪸pain would definitely be the ‘dad’ of the group, making sure things aren’t getting too out of hand, and failing terribly at it. Zetsu lost a sandal? Just go barefoot, what’s the worst that could happen? He gets a splinter or a rock scrapes his heel. Feels bad when Zetsu starts crying about his foot hurting, would buy him ice cream as an apology.

🌊I imagine Zetsu as being a big softie. Just like Tobi he wouldn’t know what to do first. I also see him having a slight fear of water? Someone tries splashing him he’d close his leaves? Pinchers? Locking himself in his own shelter

☀️he’d find a bucket, a cup, literally anything and start collecting all the pretty shells he spots, even when the bucket gets full, he’ll start stuffing them in his pockets.

🪼our gentle masked comrade Tobi would refuse to take his mask off, let alone his shirt🥺

🐙poor thing couldn’t figure out what to do when they first arrived; go swimming? Build a sandcastle? Collect shells? Stare at the fish and other sea creatures showing themselves in the water? Nope, he decided on doing what he does best, piss off Deidara

🐬doesn’t even mean to do so, deidara is as explosive as his art so of course he’s going to get mad when Tobi accidentally gets sand in his hair.

🐋would retreat far into the ocean on a floaty, avoiding Tobi as much as possible. His hair would be tied up into a bun to keep the sea water from drying it out. Would most likely be those floaties with the little cup holder in it, probably with a beer can or sake in it.

🦭Sasori my man, I can imagine him working on a sandcastle. Using his skills to make a large one with details that would be tedious to anybody but him.

🦐he would volunteer to run up to the shops to grab things his comrades may want. No matter how small or stupid that item might be. Would buy small toys and presents in the gifts shops for everyone. He really enjoys walking through the board walk, will take a break and hang out on the pier for a bit before returning to the group.

🐚the zombie combo would both be talking and trying to pick up the gorgeous women who also decided to head to the beach that day. Hidan of course would be much more outgoing and flamboyant about it. Showing off his muscles and abs.

🐠Kakuzu on the other hand, all he’s gotta do is show off that one smirk of his to have them hypnotized. Wouldn’t care if one of them felt up on his scars or touched his hair. He won’t voice it, not even to Hidan, but he enjoys the attention, even if nothing comes of it.

🦈oh boy Kisame. Do I really have to say anything? As you said, he’d be THRIVING.

🦈would be moving through the water with ease, not even a ripple would be seen as he swims. Within minutes, sharks and other large sea animals would be seen following him around. He’d be so cute about it too, feeding them random shit he’d find, knowing what they want, or giving the sharks little boops on their noses(you can’t tell me you don’t see him doing this) and would be the main one to eat like 90% of the food Konan packed. She would make him join Sasori when going to the shops so he can stock up on everything he devoured.

🦞our sweet boy Itachi would pop into the water for a little bit before wandering off to the tide pools. He would find a patch of sand to sit on, watching as the sea stars and small fish go about their business as they wait for the tide to come back in

🪸would eventually get tired of being in the sun and lay out a towel next to Konan to hang out under the umbrella. They would talk or sit in silence, depends on how either of them are feeling that day.

•snake boy orochimaru would LATHER himself in sunscreen, you see how pale he is? (No offense, i love him) and he would also wear sunglasses to protect his eyes.

🌊I could see him complaining about the sun and trying to avoid it like the plague, acting as if the sun is the worst thing imaginable. Not one to express his feelings well if at all and uses his complaints to hide the fact that he’s actually having the time of his life. Would put a fish or eel in a jar, wanting to bring it back to the compound to keep as a pet until Konan tells him release it. Promising to take him to a pet store to get one there instead.

☀️towards the end of the day, moving into the early evening the whole group would play volleyball or fuck around in the water, splashing each other until everybody’s out of breath.

[ladykailitha]

If I Rescue You, Will You Rescue Me, Too? Part 5

Sorry this later then my usual. I’ve been hella sick all morning. Still am if I’m honest. But I have this story completed up through part 9, so it was just a matter of getting the energy to post. (My other post today was from my late night ramblings that I scheduled for when I woke up.)

Jeff makes another appearance and is the chill dude we all know and love. And Lucas gets Steve-time.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3  Part 4

*

Steve was volunteering at the high school which had been turned into a makeshift homeless shelter and distribution center for those affected by the earthquake.

In fact all of the older kids did. Jonathan and Nancy were helping people find places to sleep. Robin and Vickie were helping making sandwiches and handing them out to those who needed a meal. Steve was sorting the clothes for the displaced.

Steve thought about Eddie and Wayne how they were forced out of their trailer when the gate opened from Chrissy’s death and then again when the earthquake literally tore through it, ripping it in half.

So if he was keeping an eye out for band t-shirts and flannel button downs, that was no one’s business but his. He watched Vickie and Robin flirt with each other, he watched as Nancy and Jonathan were constantly finding each other’s orbits. Pulling apart, only to be brought back together like magnets. His heart ached. He wanted that so much. So much that he was willing to go back to Nancy if that’s what she wanted. Because everyone seemed to be pushing them together again.

But once the dust had settled and Steve was finally about to think about what he wanted. What he really wanted. He knew. It was Eddie. The boy had found his way into his heart and Steve didn’t want him to leave. Eddie had bounced, flounced, and completely trounced his way into Steve’s life in a way he didn’t think was possible.

He yearned to be in his presence. The lightness, the laughter, the playful teasing, the explaining things that Steve didn’t understand. He wanted it every day.

He also wasn’t stupid. He knew that if he wanted to be with Eddie, he couldn’t do all the grand gestures he did with his girlfriends. He couldn’t just run up to the metalhead and spin him around because he was happy to see him. He couldn’t back Eddie up against the shelves of the grocery store and kiss him senseless because he missed the taste of his lips. He couldn’t hold hands with him walking down the street.

So Steve had to do grand gestures that showed Eddie how much Steve cared, but from the outside would look like he was just a good friend.

After about an hour of sorting the clothes he knew that there weren’t going to be any band shirts in the donation pile because the only other metalheads were the Corroded Coffin boys and they certainly knew better than to donate those to this crowd.

He chewed his lip. He’d have to make a stop at the thrift store on his way to the hospital and see if they had anything.

A bunch of shirts toppled to the ground and Steve sighed. They just wouldn’t stay up. He dumped the pile on to the stacks of other shirts to refold them when he realized he had company.

Steve cleared his throat nervously. “You’re Jeff Lawrence, right?”

Jeff folded his arms in front of his chest. “Saw Eddie this morning.”

Steve gulped. “Coincidence, so did I,” he replied as cheerfully as possible.

Jeff cracked a smile. “Nice to see you out of the hospital. I saw Eddie’s bites and that must have hurt like a bitch.”

Steve let a small smile slip out as well. “I’m just lucky because I had two days up on Eddie and they had started to heal.”

Jeff nodded. “He told me you saved his life.”

“I wouldn’t–I couldn’t just leave him there,” he murmured, head down.

“I know,” he agreed. “You’re a good dude. It’s just going to take Gareth and Brian a bit to realize that, too.”

Steve smiled again. “I know they’re just looking out for their friend. Especially since I was Jason Carver not long ago.”

Jeff raised an eyebrow. “No you weren’t.” Steve reared his head back in confusion. “Look, were you a bit of a jerk in high school? Sure. But you didn’t go around stirring up mobs and torturing people because you couldn’t believe Nancy was more interested in Byers and not you.”

Steve blushed. “No, I supposed not. Didn’t stop Tommy H and Carol from pulling some kind of bullshit when it happened.”

“I worked at the theater at the time, dude,” Jeff said. “The manager was praising you up and down for coming over and help cleaning up the graffiti. That wasn’t Tommy and Carol out on that ladder scrubbing away the paint.”

Steve ducked his head again, this time out of embarrassment instead of shame. “It was the right thing to do.”

Jeff nodded. “Yes it was. And if you were like Jason and Tommy and hell, even Billy, you wouldn’t done that. So maybe cut yourself some slack, yeah?”

Steve nodded back. “Yeah, I’ll try.”

Jeff turned to walk away, having said what he set out to, but Steve called out to him.

“Um...do you know who you would speak to if you were trying to get in contact with a band regarding comp tickets for an earthquake victim?”

Jeff raised an eyebrow. “You could try calling the box office of the venue. They might know.”

Steve pursed his lips and nodded. “Yeah. Okay, I’ll give that a shot.”

Jeff just shook his head and walked away.  

*

The next day Steve was able to find a couple of t-shirts but his real find was a leather jacket that looked exactly like Eddie’s old one. He also wandered around the book section for a moment or two before giving up. He didn’t know what Eddie had lost or what he would like, so he just paid for the shirts and jacket.

He walked into the hospital and stopped by Max’s room first. Lucas was sitting there reading her poems. Lucas looked up and smiled. He put the book down and came to give Steve a hug.

“Thanks for stopping by,” Lucas said, hugging him back.

He buried his head into Steve’s shoulder and sobbed, “Jason knocked off her headphones right when Vecna went for her and I had to hit him so I could put them back on. That’s when the earthquake happened. He nearly had her, man. If I hadn’t got the headphones back on when I did, Vecna would have been able to open the fourth gate and bring Hell to Hawkins.”

Steve held him tight. “You did good, Lucas. She’s safe because of your fast acting.”

Lucas gave a watery chuckle. “And El pushing Vecna out of her mind so hard Vecna exploded.”

“That’s our girl!” Steve cheered. “And Max will be fine. She just needs to rest, okay?”

Lucas nodded. “I was so scared Steve. I didn’t realize people could be monsters, too. I thought Jason was a good guy. Not like Billy. He looked out for me when I was on the team, man. Went out of his way to make sure I was okay. But then he knocked Gareth down and began grinding his heel into Gareth’s hand. I didn’t know what to do. And the look on Jeff’s face when I just stood there...” he started to sob even harder. “I can’t go back. Not to Hellfire. Not to basketball. I just can’t.”

Steve rocked him back and forth. “Shhh. Yes you can. Maybe not to Hellfire specifically, but Will’s back. He’ll DM for you. You know he will. He hated it when you guys thought you had grown out of playing. It can just be the four of you again. Start over.”

Lucas let out a sigh of relief. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

Steve kissed the top of his head. “And if you never return to playing basketball at school you can always play pick up games with me. I mean, you’ll lose, but at least you can play.”

Lucas shoved Steve away. “Fuck off, man. We won the championship, dude, thanks to me. Something you never did.”

Steve shrugged. “Couldn’t my senior year. See I took a plate to the head for the lame ass cocky kid who thought he could take on someone twice his size.”

Lucas worked his jaw but no sound came out. Finally he was able to get out the words, “Right. Right, yeah–I had forgotten that little tidbit.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “I would do it again in a heartbeat, dude.”

Lucas blushed. “Thanks, man.”

Steve squeezed his shoulder and then said good bye.

“Tell Eddie I’ll be in later,” Lucas called.

Steve waved over his shoulder in acknowledgment.

*

Eddie was up and reading one of the books his uncle had brought over yesterday.

Wayne stood up and told Eddie he was going to grab a bite to eat and then he’d be back.

Eddie nodded. “Stevie! Just in time for the changing of the guard. Come, sit down, sit down.”

Steve did as he was told and placed the bag on Eddie’s lap.

“You brought little ol’ me a present! You shouldn’t have,” he cooed. And then he pulled out the jacket. “Nope, you definitely should have. Holy shit, Steve. Thank you.”

He buried his face into the soft leather. “Where did you get this?”

“I went down to the thrift store to see if I could find some of the band tees you lost in the earthquake and saw this. I couldn’t pass it up.”

Eddie raised his head and then looked in the bottom of the bag. He gasped excitedly. “Mercyful Fate and Metallica?” He pulled them out and kicked his feet excitedly. “This is so awesome.”

“Sorry I couldn’t find more,” Steve said. “But the pickings are a little slim in Bumfuck, Indiana.”

Eddie grinned. “I usually go to the thrift shops in Indy. Trust me, man so much better than WASP Hawkins.”

Steve frowned. “I thought that was the name of one of the bands you liked.”

Eddie giggled. “It is. But it also stands for White Anglo Saxon Protestant. You know like only, ninety percent of Hawkins?”

Steve giggled, too. “I’m guess that’s not what the band stands for?”

“Yeah, no.”

Soon they were both giggling like school children.

“Seriously, man,” Eddie said softly. “Thank you. Just having them is a step toward feeling normal again.”

Steve smiled fondly. “I couldn’t imagine losing all my shit and just wanted to help out.”

“Come here,” Eddie said firmly.

Steve got up and shuffled close to the bed. Eddie reached up and grabbed him, pulling him in for a hug. Steve melted and hugged him back, being as gentle as he could.

Steve wasn’t sure how long they were there, just hugging, but he didn’t want to stop.

There was a clearing of someone’s throat from behind them. He reluctantly stepped back.

The nurse from the first day was in the doorway looking at them with a small smile on her face. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but it’s time for Eddie’s antibiotics.”

Steve stepped aside and let her through. She put the pills in Eddie’s hand and filled his water cup. She handed him the water and he downed it one go.

She bustled back out, leaving the two boys alone again.

“You seen your physical therapist, yet?” Steve asked into the resulting silence.

Eddie nodded. “He said my arms are in really good shape. I’ve got my full range motion in both arms. They’re a little weak, so we’re going to be working on building up strength in them again.”

“That’s fantastic,” Steve said. “You’ll be back shredding away at that guitar of yours in no time.”

Eddie grinned. “You better believe it.”

Part 6 Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12 Part 13 Part 14  Part 15 Part 16 Part 17  Part 18  Part 19  Part 20

Tag List: @anaibis @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369  @cr0w-culture @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666  @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @whalesharksart @nburkhardt @snapshotmaestro @shrimply-a-menace @theotalksalot @child-of-cthulhu @bookbinderbitch

[moodymisty]

no fear response, and more that it’s been turned nearly all of the way down.

I headcanon that it’s a similar situation with their feelings of romance or sex. That it’s not completely gone, but that it’s nullified just enough for them, under the right circumstances (a.k.a never truly interacting with baseline humans), to not feel those feelings ever. Because you can’t have your killing machines questioning their loyalty and running off with some mortal, right?

So I this brings me to the thought that a space marine can feel romantic or sexual feelings, it’s just that it’s probably got to be under some very specific circumstances. And that most of them would have no idea what to do when they get a crush on someone. Yes they’re grown adults but new emotion?? New emotion that is affection??? Affection that isn’t platonic or familial?!! Confusion!!!!

Cue a bunch of different reactions to this. Ranging from trying to impress their object of affection by showing off how well they can fight (“Check out how strong I am!” “Well yeah, you’re a space marine.” “Oh… right.”), to deciding to avoid them completely, or being weirdly obsessive/possessive of them because they never want to lose the person that made them feel this way, or getting angry at the baseline human for distracting them from their duties (even though they probably didn’t even realise the space marine had feelings for them), perhaps even deciding to do what they do best and bringing their human trophies of the enemies/heretics/xenos they killed like some kind of giant catboy.

Space marine: 7 years ago I had a crush on a serf in my chapter and I didn’t know how to deal with it, so I wrote her a letter that just said “leave this place immediately”

(first part of the ask because dumblr cut it off)

Putting this ask on my fridge because you understood the fucking assignment.

Astartes start their transformation at around 10-13, so basically their entire formative years are taken away from them. How are you expected to know what a crush is or love or really any complex emotion if you’re too busy having a bakers dozen of extra organs shoved in you and running through the Tunnel of Terror?

'Yeah I didn't have a girlfriend I was too busy getting acid spit'

I imagine that having to deal with an Astartes who's figuring out how an entire array of emotions work is going to be, a handful. He ends up knocking someones lights out while sparring just to show off, or you end up with the hide of an entire Tyranid Warrior. What do you say to that? Thanks? Them being hyper vigilant of you being around other Astartes, almost obsessively. Also all this depends heavily on the chapter. It would probably be much easier with a White Scar, Lamenter( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), Ultramarine, or Blood Angel( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) than an Imperial Fist, World Eater, or Black Templar (I love my wall husbands but their heads are filled with concrete).

[PENDING COMFIRMATION LOL] And, some of this is actually canon! In a book, a space Marine thinks about how weird he feels when looking at an attractive young woman who’s a refugee they saved. I KNOW this is a thing but I cannot remember the source so I’m going to try and find it. I believe he was a blood angel. If I can't find it please take all this with a grain of salt.

And anyone who manages to land themself an Astartes BF pretty much got themself the himbo to end all himbos. Because while Astartes are super smart and have crazy fast reflexes, they’re fucking dumb as rocks in other regards. (Examples being any emotion that isn’t anger or respecting your superiors, stupid infighting between chapters, Talos Valcoran)

Also in the 41st millenium they’re pretty much mildly worshiped as 'angels', so you have a literal trophy husband. Congrats. Please keep him on a leash the guardsmen are very scared and he has no trigger discipline.

[theunvanquishedzims]

@batneko​ wrote a sugar daddy AU so I had to write one back.

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

Bowser's longtime flame has officially tied the knot, she's shooting off fireworks to celebrate, she's leaving the country on a world tour honeymoon, she's taken out an actual literal billboard on the road between their cities to showcase the wedding photos

So Bowser's like hey, I'm not stupid, I can see you're over it, you don't have to rub it in my face, but he can't even say that because she's blocked him on everything

And he was GOING to hire a skywriter to spell it out over the wedding, but the skywriting company said there was a conflict with the fireworks company and they couldn't get clearance, and Bowser is halfway through checking his own plane to see if he can rig something up when he realizes hey, this is kinda pathetic

They are both extremely over-the-top people and it's hard not to escalate when you're both filthy rich.

--------

So Peach and Mario are off on a year-long world tour honeymoon, and Mario privately offered to let Luigi tag along, so he's feeling pretty pathetic himself.

And Mario SAYS they'll still run the business together, but Luigi has seen Peach's schedule as...governor? President? Monarch? And it's pretty packed, and Mario already has his own dedicated bodyguard from her retinue, and Luigi is picking up a lot more clearly than his brother how things are gonna change

For the better! Mario's gonna love the parties and meeting people and playing sports with actual athletes and driving sports cars on closed professional tracks against real racers, and he can fix a sink but he's got the brains to fix a city's infrastructure too. He's gonna do great.

And Luigi...Luigi will be fine. Really! One-man plumbing business. He can do this. Except other businesses are already poaching their customers on the premise that Mario is retired and the Mario Brothers will be shutting down, and the only way Luigi can counter that is by cashing in on his brother's fame to get people's attention. Which, no thanks.

So he's just come out of the tropical storm of wedding prep and parties exhausted and ready to take a break, but he needs to scramble as the business dissolves under his feet, and their house is paid off and bills should be fine but it's such a gut punch to see how easily his life crumbles without his brother, and Luigi is TIRED. Luigi wants a BREAK. Luigi wants someone rich and fun and good-looking to swoop in and take HIM on a vacation.

"Maybe I should get a rich husband to take care of me," he mumbles into the newspaper draped over his face, covered in ads for rival businesses and Peach's honeymoon tour.

And you know...that's an idea. That's a real idea. He's already been on blind dates, there's always somebody who has a gay nephew or cousin or coworker who would LOVE a tall strong man like Luigi, they're sure~! So what if he picks out his own guy? And if they don't click, he can just shrug it off as them not being rich enough for him. That's believable, there's enough photos of him at the palace and Mushroom-Wimbledon and Mushroom-Kentucky Derby to say he's developed a taste for the good life.

In all honesty, he HAS developed a taste for the good life. Not high teas and little cucumber sandwiches, but being able to drop everything and go to an island, or play a round of golf, or picnic in the countryside, or play Indiana Jones in desert ruins while Peach is off hobnobbing with local rulers. He had fun. And it would be even more fun if he wasn't tagging along after his brother, if it was someone doing those things for HIM, because they liked him and wanted to impress him and--and spoil him, he makes himself acknowledge. He wants to be spoiled. He wants to be...a sugar baby.

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

Cue montage! Luigi is a good looking fella, but he's also visually Green Mario, and the idea is to NOT leech off his brother's rep. The mustache goes. The overalls have already been retired. No more baseball cap keeping his thick wavy hair out of his face, no more sturdy waterproof work boots. He regrets getting rid of the mustache, and starts growing a five-o-clock shadow. Maybe he'll grow a beard, those are trendy.

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

That's the picture that pops up in Bowser's inbox as he sorts through correspondence.

 He's pulling back and being really honest with himself about what he actually wants. And honestly? Peach isn't it. Not anymore. It was a painful revelation, but a necessary one. She's not the same hyper-giggly cheerleader type he met in university, and he's not the party boy rugby jock he was back then either. He doesn't need a hot blonde girl on his arm to impress his teammates and stop any ugly rumors in their tracks. He doesn't need to beat anybody up for saying he's gay. And honestly, it was freaking exhausting trying to keep up with Peach's schedule when he was a young adult with just classes and games to worry about, now that's he's mumble-something years old and has his own country to run, he couldn't imagine trying to do half of the things she has packed into her schedule.

So...good for her. She got that guy who loves being social and making a bajillion new friends without being rude to them and can probably stay in the background and let her shine without it chafing, either. Good for her. He is genuinely happy for her.

He has a hard time conveying that to the cowering housekeepers as he finishes smashing the last of her portraits into bits, but he doesn't pay them to understand him, just obey him, so he tells them to sweep it up and stomps back to his office.

He needs more people like that in his life, he thinks, if he's being honest. He needs someone who won't argue him in circles or make him feel stupid debating political policy or hint that his family are tyrants. His family gets stuff DONE, okay, no need to go through six layers of wishy-washy old toads and delicately manage public image in the process. Say it and it is so, and the people will see that their needs are met and be grateful. That's the Bowser way.

 Romantically, what does he need? He makes a little list.

1. Hot.

2. No arguing.

3. No criticizing or trying to change him.

4. No pink or girly.

5. Just...hot okay? A hot dude. There, he said it. A hot dude he can take on dates who won't try to fix him, who won't think there's anything WRONG with him that needs fixing, somebody who can just be hot and pretty and hang around making him look good without getting in his way or trying to take over.

Ugh. He needs a Mario, that's what he needs, somebody to quietly stand around and smile at him and feed him cake. But way hotter. Way, WAY hotter.

 He quits glaring at Peach's wedding ads long enough to type out a basic list of demands and send it to a matchmaking service. (It's a sugar baby service, but he'll be damned if he calls it that.) He's not doing ANY work for this relationship. He's rich, he's powerful, he's reasonably attractive, he thinks? Got a bit of a gut since college but he's still got muscle. Whatever, he's got a castle and a fleet of cool cars and enough money to spoil the hell out of TEN thirsty twinks, whoever he picks can keep their mouth shut about his beer belly. No, he's going full Lizzo, he's not considering anyone unless they LOVE his body. He's rich enough to afford that.

He's all set to send that pic to his potential matches, but then Luigi's pic pops into his inbox, and he panics and switches. He's not trying to scare matches off, that would be self-sabotaging. And he's a fun guy, not some bum who gets drunk and passes out on a deck chair, that was ONE TIME and he was recovering from sunburn, you didn't need to snap a picture of it, guys. Whatever. Fun in the sun dad bod pic, that should be enough to reel in a boyfriend.

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

So. Bowser is a smart man, and the ruler of a kingdom. He does have bodyguards, and he designs most of his own security systems. The service will weed out the scammers, but he's investigating his matches himself, and Luigi is...not unknown to him. He's probably wildly unrecognizable to most people post-makeover, but Bowser was stalking Peach's wedding and has dossiers on everyone in the wedding party. He KNOWS what his ex-rival's brother looks like without a hat.

The only question is WHY. Is this a game? A joke? A sick trap? Why is he doing this?

"Why are you doing this?" is the first message he sends through the service.

And boy oh boy is that the question of the hour, Luigi thinks, staring at it. He has no idea who's he writing to, the...DADDIES are wealthy and important enough to warrant a bit of identity protection. He'll get a picture in advance of any meetings, but for now he's flying blind.

He's not gonna dump his whole life's story on a stranger, and he doesn't need to justify his decisions to anybody. He's not hurting for company, or money, so why is he doing this?

"I want to take a break and have fun with someone who can afford to take me nice places and do cool things" is what he decides on. It's true.

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

The rest is just them going nice places and doing cool things together. No drama, no schemes, no misunderstandings or second-guessing about why they’re there. Bowser pays for everything, and gives Luigi some spending money besides. Luigi works hard to relax and be sexy and flirty and fun. It helps that Bowser is so comfy to cuddle with, and actually taller than him, which is impressive.

He is vaguely aware that he is dating Peach's ex, he figures that out around the third date or so, but the guy is remarkably chill compared to how she described him, (and in this world Peach's security detail handled any incidents, there was no kidnapping (recently,) and the Mario brothers weren't heroes who needed to curb-stomp anyone, so Luigi has never met Bowser directly.)

Bowser is keenly aware that he is dating Peach's brother-in-law, but he works hard to relax, not obsess over anything, and just be cool and fun to hang out with. It helps that Luigi is super hot, a little goofy when he relaxes, and enjoys draping himself over Bowser while they lounge on the beach, or on a train ride through the mountains, or a tour of wine country. Lots of hot guy draped all over him while people stare enviously.

It's definitely envy, nothing to do with how Bowser just chugged half a bottle of merlot. He needed to wash the taste of that horrible rosé out of his mouth, okay? Who bottled that, a skunk? Horrible bouquet. Horrible. Luigi, buzzed and giggly and tucked up against Bowser's side staring at him adoringly, thinks Bowser is the funniest, wittiest guy in the world. They should definitely get out of there. The proprietors sell them a case of the merlot and gently suggest that the gentlemen switch to cheese tasting now, so they do.

Bowser's driver takes them on a long ride up the coast, and they have dinner at a beach chateau at sunset and listen to the cresting waves as the stars come out, and Luigi thinks this is exactly what he needed.

And Bowser just spent a long weekend out of his workshop and not buried in paperwork, and he's got some nice wine and stories to charm some diplomat who's visiting next week, and hey maybe Luigi can handle the charming and let Bowser do the diplomacy, or maybe he'll just sit at the dinner table eating fancy food and looking pretty while Bowser takes care of everything.

Man, it's good to be the king. Especially when you've got a doll like this by your side, cheering you on, waiting to see what you’ll do next. He needed this, this ego stroking and taking care of someone, showing off for them. Not running after a pink velvet track suit who's got a million clubs and committees and parties to coordinate. And wow, he hasn't thought about her in a while. A few days, at least. And he doesn't want to think of her now, under the stars, with a fuzzy face nuzzling his neck and strong hands slowly petting down his chest hair and over his belly. He's good. He’s good.

[ceilingfan5]

ooh. how 'bout circus criminals AU

“Step right up! Step right up- you’ve seen the action, and now it’s time to get your share!” Kravitz makes sweeping gestures with his top hat that are so dramatic that glitter keeps falling off of it. Taako bites his lip, trying not to laugh. Truly how he has the energy after a whole day of shows is beyond him, but Taako’s gonna match him pitter for patter until the crowds are gone. “Not a fan of carnival games? Why not test another skill?” 

Taako, still on his bigass stilts (okay, mediumass stilts, Lup stole the ladder-tall ones tonight) directs seedier traffic Kravitz-ward and seedless traffic towards the carnival games. The tweens and lovers and grubby child-babies can go throw balls at shit for stuffed unicorns. Double Secret Circus Blackjack is only for assholes. But like, a certain kind of asshole. They don’t need any law enforcement officers to step into the ring. Kravitz is duping ex-step-dads and greasy stockbrokers and self-entitled Um Actuallys into feeding the machine with their yum yummy dollar bills. 

You know, people that don’t return their carts at the grocery store. 

“Right this way!” Taako calls, slipping a number of shiny objects from his pockets and juggling like a dream. (Sometimes he does juggle in his dreams. Three previous roommates have complained about it.) He waits for a gap in the crowd and kicks with one long, long leg right towards the Hit The Thing With The Hammer Real Good stall– “Play sweet games, win sweet prizes!��� and rolls his whole body toward The Subtle Tent– “Or try your luck, if you dare!” 

And so on. It all sort of runs together. Taako and Kravitz keep making eye contact that makes the air in Taako’s lungs glitter, and finally, when he’s got enough little fishies, Kravitz winks and ducks in. Taako drops his jugglin’ bits. For effect. He’s not stupid. He does make a show of struggling to bend down to pick them up, which gets a load of lil’guys gigglin and tossing him the things. Taako pretends to miss, and pretends to miss, and at the unlikeliest moment–oh my god mommy did you see that, he caught it!! 

Golly. What a miracle, at this, the Regularest Circus. 

He waits for a lull, rabbiting and yakking with the customers, playing it up, making a scene. And when he finally has a moment, he slips away and drops the stilts–easy as pie to make a quick change, if you’d like a slice. No time to redo his makeup, but it’s all whatever. The nights blend like impressionist paintings in a storm drain, and none of that oil paint should enter the water table. 

Heavy metals, you know. 

He ducks into the tent, like literally does a tuck and roll and POP, gasp hello it’s Taako here, can you believe you didn’t have him before now? You’re SAVED. And he walks around, checking on the heavy round felted tables that are such a bitch to roll into the semi when they leave town. Whatever the fuck was wrong with the Costco tables that fold in the middle?

He sneaks up to Kravitz, who is running the highest stakes in the tent, of course, and loving every minute of it. Taako pops up behind him– even sitting, that stupid top hat obscures most of Taako, you know, stilts-less– and pulls a few funny faces to amuse and distract the patrons. Haha, a fucking clown. Doesn’t he know his whole existence is stupid? Kravitz makes a big show of turning and Just Missing Taako, and the big fishies are in stitches by the time the clown is caught. 

“You’re distracting me,” Kravitz teases, shuffling cards like a real obnoxious bitch. Shame he’s so great. “Can’t you clown around another big top?” 

“Who, me?” Taako makes a big show of innocence. It’s so funny how much they’re taken in by him, with some makeup and sweeping gestures and nonsense. These are probably the kind of guys who’d run screaming from a clown in a haunted corn maze or whatever, but Taako’s got these dung beetles eating bullshit right out of his hands. 

“Yeah, you! Can’t you see I’ve got serious business to attend to?” 

“Sure, sure, sure,” Taako soothes, clocking Kravitz slipping an ace or seven up his sleeve. Taako’s whole chest bursts with affection. “I’ll secure the perimeter, sir!” And Taako clicks his heels together as loudly as possible. 

His shoes squeak. It’s great. 

Kravitz barely keeps a straight face. 

“As you were, Captain Bananapants.” 

Taako’s gonna show him. Taako’s going to show him but good. 

He honks his nose and evaporates, pacing round the outside instead. And Ring A Ding Ding, Chicken Wing, who the Fuck must be approaching but the goddamn fuzz. 

He presses a button in the lining of his pocket to Shut That Shit down, and Kravitz will certainly feel his pager go off. Taako’s time to shine, full distract mode. 

“Fuzzy wuzzy had no hair,” he starts off, pulling a full handstand and wiggling his ass. Here’s the thing about being a clown. You can get away with so much. 

“Can it, jackass,” the head guy in charge growls. 

“Oh, extremely loud buzzer noise!” Taako rolls back to a back bend. “Clown, actually. Fool, even. Jester, on the weekends. Harlequin if you ask sweetly. But not a jackass.” 

“You work here, right?” Buzzcut demands. 

“No,” Taako says politely. “This is a hobby.” He makes a show of stage whispering behind his hand. “The wife calls it a fetish, but what does she know!” He laughs so hard he makes himself fall over, and, when the cop steps over him, sits up as fast as possible. Both of them end up on the ground. 

“So sorry!” Taako pops up and reaches out to help him up, which obviously activates the buzzer on his hand, because he’s old school. It’s hilarious. It’s also not full grounds for arrest. Ha ha. “Are you alright? I guess I have a habit of tripping over my feet!” 

This doesn’t end, you know, well, but by the time Taako is done getting grilled like chicken on a milf’s salad, there’s no evidence or remnant of their super legal gambling ring. 

“That’s how you do it, baby,” Taako mumbles later, taking off his makeup. Sometimes he wishes he had a sandblaster, just get it real done real fast.

“Thank you again, Taako, you did perfectly.” Kravitz waits for him to be mostly lipstick free, and then tugs him into a grateful kiss. Taako takes two extra for good measure, and one for his pocket, and another to collect interest in the bank. 

“You bet your sweet ass, I did. I had to recite the whole clown code to those jokers to get them to believe me. You know, not just anyone can do this shit.” 

“Yeah,” Kravitz says, smiling glittery-eyed at his makeup-less face. “You’re a real stand-up ham.”

[lethargicmouse]

lizzie and tommy (:

I’ve always been a fan of Lizzie. I found her character so interesting, solely because I found her to be so tough, but also have so much love and femininity to her. However, I also liked Grace– she was strong and cunning and dang she fell for a gangster! However, I felt her character was underbaked (because she literally died. Great for Tommy’s character development– bad for Grace). What prompted me to write this all out was me running out of Lizzie and Tommy fics to read and turning to Tommy and Grace fics. The first (and frankly only one I read), was Thomas Shelby laughs in his sleep, or at least he used to.  by @i-just-look-at-pictures on AO3, and it really fleshed out Grace’s character for me, it filled in the holes in their relationship that the show didn’t cover. It made me realize how stark (haha), the differences between both relationships are. Grace gave us the forbidden love, marriage trope, love at first sight type deal whereas Lizzie gives us the redemption arc (literally RUBY.) and a slow burn. 

In my first watch-through of Peaky Blinders I loved Tommy and Grace’s dynamic– and I still do; however, after watching it back it was not the most healthy thing on the planet. But really what relationship with a man like Tommy can be? For me Tommy’s love for Grace was an obsession– she was a perfect posh girl and man, how could a girl like her fall in love with a guy like him?! But she did, because Tommy really liked her so he was soft Tommy with her. (That is why she fell in love with him, not like May who liked him for the thrill of a gangster– no shame on May, though. She is a strong woman who knows who she is. And I would totally fall for a hot gangster, too.) Grace challenged Tommy in ways women hadn’t before (excluding Polly because she’s more like a mother figure to him); however, she accepted him for the dirty gangster he was and didn’t try to fix him (because she was just as dirty as he was. Also, a lot of people say that Grace was Tommy in girl form– but helloooo ADA?!). For me, this is neither good nor bad, well maybe a little bad. Like I said before, Grace challenged him, but not in the ways that I feel like could’ve benefitted Tommy as a person, but then again Tommy wouldn’t have dared to soil his perfect Grace with the dirty dealings of the illegal business. So it was a fault all around, really, in my opinion. Grace could’ve thrived in the illegal business dealings (she’s a smart girl!), but it was the illegal business that was her demise. (I don’t believe for a second Lizzie had any intention of starting a war, and she didn’t start it. John did. Lizzie just wanted a normal life. But did she really like Angel, orrr was he a distraction from Tommy? We all know the truth.) Tommy ruined Grace, but look at how her death ruined him. Her apparition (originating from the stupid drugs) is the personification of his guilt. Grace doesn’t call him to the afterlife– his guilt for his gang business does! 

Lizzie however, was different. She was involved in the dirty business from the beginning. She knew who Tommy was pre-war, and she knows who he is now. And look at how she hoisted herself up out of the gutter. She took those typing classes to stop whoring. She tried to get out of it with John (but we all know how that went– and I personally don’t think that was Tommy keeping Lzzie for himself, that was Tommy protecting John). She took the initiative to clean up her life and Tommy just aided her in the fact by giving her a job (truthfully, all he has ever helped her with was money). Regardless of all that, I truly believe (and it’s evident–blatantly obvious even) that she was in love with Tommy from the beginning. Two of my favorite Tommy and Lzzie scenes are as follows: the one where she asks him to pretend like they’re ordinary people (kills me every time. Hurts my soul. My poor baby Lizzie girl.) and the typewriter scene where he offers her the job (the manner in which he went about it was stunning. I would’ve died.) 

As the story goes, Tommy goes back to Lizzie relatively quickly after Grace dies (excluding the Tatiana madness). I’ve seen posts that blame Lizzie for this, that she jumped on Tommy after Grace died because she was jealous. I have no doubt in my mind she was jealous– but she has enough decorum to withhold that and act like a lady. Lizzie grounds Tommy. Yes, they were toxic (My property? Not cool. Infidelity? Not healthy! Telling her to abort the baby? Nooo thanks– and she was so excited! “A piece of me and you” CRYING); however, I feel like they understood each other on another level. They’ve known each other for what, 15+ years? And they’ve been married for what, 8 of those years? Gosh, they know each other inside and out. Their relationship, obviously, is very sexually based. Lizzie was a whore for pity’s sake, and Tommy himself is probably the biggest whore on the show (literally seducing poor Jessie Eden for personal gain?!). I’m sure Lizzie was able to read Tommy like an open book and vice versa! Just look at how they push each other's buttons! Him telling her he still pays her for it, and her giving him the bullets in the mud. Neither was a good situation– a) that’s a horrific way to push someone when you know that bothers them b) that is not how you deal with a suicidal person. But look at all that harm and trauma we see they cause each other because of years of hurt from each other and others.  This is where we see Lizzie break for the first time, in my opinion. For her family comes first, even over her one-sided love, and Tommy was willing to break that family. 

Lizzie’s two best qualities (but perhaps it was also these that lead to her demise) were her unwavering loyalty and her ability to care. The former is probably why I relate to her so much. Even after Tommy screwed up her first chance at a normal life with John, left her to get raped at Epsom, told her she was property, let Diana publicly humiliate her, mocked her attempts at divorce, told her to abort their child, (I’m sure there’s more) she stayed. Because she freaking loved him and cared for him. He trusted her as a secretary to have a foot in both businesses, but he never trusted her like he trusted Grace (which is completely ironic to me because Grace betrayed all of them. But look at how much he is like Lizzie in this way. Forgiving personal transgressions because you love them sooooo much.), because he trusted Grace with his head– not the business. Lizzie was the opposite. Her loyalty to him was intertwined with her ability to care. Like the man himself said, “It was you who stopped my heart from breaking”. I’m not the best writer, but aniray conveys this perfectly in their fic A Bit of Soft (In a Broken Place). Lizzie is always there for him and cares for him. She fulfills his needs. Her ability to care was shown really, though, with the children. Charlie calls her mum (which I know a lot of people don’t like– but she took the child of the woman who she probably was jealous of and genuinely loved him as her own) and Charlie’s bond with Ruby is so adorable. Lizzie was meant to be a mom! And Tommy gave her that. And like I said earlier when Tommy was willing to give up his fatherly duties to be reunited with Grace, Lizzie reminded him of his duties at home (albeit in a not-so-nice way). Because that’s what really important to her. The well-being of those children. And that’s what finally drove her to leave, was Tommy’s craziness about Ruby’s illness and his lack of presence at her death. There is no doubt in my mind Tommy loved Ruby, and he really went to the ends of the earth to save her. But when he wasn’t there to hold her hand (and Lizzie’s hand) as she died, that’s what did it. Not the infidelity, not the sham of a marriage, not the drugs (she knew what she signed up for. A marriage for looks. She was ok with being the one who cared more.), but the lack of care (in the way she thought, and really it was the way that he needed to be, mattered). This is also why she couldn’t have been the black cat. A) She wanted to get as far away from her whoring days so she isn’t talking to Mosely B) she loves Tommy too much (to her own disgust) to betray him like that C) it’d hurt her family D) She was for sure at that violin recital! She wouldn’t’ve missed it for the world!

But really he did love her, Lizzie– definitely like he loved his family (she was family), and I think he definitely had the potential to be in love with her. He’s now realizing that she was essential to his life (because he likes nice, soft things). However, Lizzie (thank goodness) has realized he’s never brought anything good into her life (excluding Ruby, her angel), and the hurt outweighs the crumbs of kindness and left him. She doesn’t deserve him. Like I said earlier Lizzie, I believe, will be the catalyst for his redemption (Just look at how Ruby saved him!). Yes. They are toxic and their relationship in the show is most certainly not healthy one bit! But, there is potential for love. 

Here’s some fic recs that really illustrate their relationship:

For me all of these authors are amazing, I just stick to Lizzie/Tommy really. No Tommy/Alfie for me. All are on Ao3

@aniray:

* a lot of these are things that happened in the show with alternate happenings. The third one down though is stunning though. Like bro, it’s canon for me! 

Open Hands

A Touch of Change

A Bit of Soft (In a Broken Place)

A Different Kind of Love

Into the Mist

Slipping into Dreams

Everything

@deadendtracks :

*these two are series

Get it wrong, get it right

Possibility of a Blade

justrosey:

Someone is digging your grave right now, someone is drawing a bath to wash you      clean

No more canaries in the mine

@divinekangaroo:

*series

The Last Second Ending

Emma_Perlman:

*series that’s au after season 6! Redemption! Strong Lizzie!!

The Siren Sings

@xxsparksxx :

*series

Armistice

@emjenenla :

Even though you don’t mean to hurt me, you keep tearing me apart

ANYWAY! Please talk to me about them I'm losing my mind.

[astromechs]

hi!! 🩵 (it was really hard to narrow down bc they’re all so good) but 9 and/or 33 for the taylor lyrics pt3 + rebelcaptain?

ended up going with 33, they’ll judge it like they know about me and you :) this is so stupid hgfjdksj also on ao3! taylor swift lyric prompts; still accepting!

Look, it's not like Han has ever been a guy who's overly concerned with everyone else's business. What's it been to him, if it hasn't meant credits or making sure he doesn't lead the Empire straight to him? Those two things, his ship, and keeping Chewie happy are the only things that have consistently mattered to him over the years. And maybe he's a general now, maybe he has more friends than just Chewie, but he still couldn't give less of a shit about what anyone does with their personal life.

Okay? Just making sure that's clear.

But it's not his fault that there's something weird going on between Andor and Erso, and has been literally since the day he'd ever first had to be in the same room as them. Sure, you could say that surviving an experience like they had would bring anyone closer, but Erso doesn't look at Rook or any of the others in the same way that he's noticed she always looks at Andor — and the way that he looks at her , in return; it's lingering and a little intense, like they're having an entire silent conversation that no one else would ever be privy to.

He’s never actually seen them touch, never even so much as brush hands, but they also do this thing where they hover incredibly closely to each other when they’re in the same room, as if separation is impossible. And he can’t be the only one who’s noticed it, right? It’s weird, and it’s distracting.

Anyway, it’s all led Han to at least one of two conclusions: they’re either, one, fucking, or, two, need to be locked in a room together soon so they can fuck and get all this out of their systems before they drive everyone around them, including him, insane.

Hoth isn’t exactly the most exciting of places, especially when they’re restricting the number of ships that can go in and out everyday; it gives him a lot of time to think, and it probably gives everyone else a lot of time to think, too, so isn’t he doing a nice thing to think about everyone else’s well being?

It’s not a story that he’s sticking to or anything, because he doesn’t need a story; it’s just the truth.

And it’s not like he’d meant to overhear voices deep in conversation as he’d passed by the north entrance of base one day while Leia had been avoiding him, and it’s not like he’d meant to stop and hide behind a corner nearby, trying to get more context. These things just happen , you know?

Not that the hiding had really been necessary; from the way the two figures nearby are huddled together, Han’s pretty sure he could strip all his clothes off of him and run by naked, and neither would even notice.

(He won’t do that; this is Hoth . What is he, an idiot?)

"That could be weeks, Cassian. Months." If the voice hadn't been enough to confirm it, then the irritated huff of a sigh is definitely none other than Sergeant Jyn Erso. She continues, "What if something happened to you? No one would know? I couldn't even know? That's fucking bantha shit —"

"Jyn," he hears Andor cut in, stopping that in its tracks with the precision of a well-placed knife, in what is also, weirdly, the softest voice he's ever heard the guy use at any point. "You know how —"

"I know." What's even weirder is hearing her sound like she's on the verge of tears, when as far as Han has ever been able to tell, Erso only ever has two modes: mildly irritated in a funny way, and angry in a way that isn't funny at all, a way that should probably send anyone who's smart running. Both of those are practically halfway across the galaxy, leaving a person he doesn't recognize at all. "I know."

He gets the sense, now, that being here is an intrusion on something he isn't supposed to see — and part of him actually does feel a little gross about it. Contrary to popular opinion (Leia's opinion), he actually has decency, thank you very much; ask Chewie, ask Luke, ask literally anyone else.

In fact, he’s turning to leave, to go find something else to do with this day….

But that’s when, out of the corner of his eye, he catches Andor holding Erso’s face in both of his hands like it’s something precious, before he leans in and kisses her square on the mouth.

Well, Han thinks, a triumphant smile spreading across his face; he just can’t help it, even given the context of how he’d learned this particular information. What do you know?

Because he has decency, though, he keeps everything he’d seen to himself in the weeks that follow, especially given that Erso, without her Andor-shaped shadow at her heels, seems a lot more sullen than usual. He gives her space, too, and doesn’t even poke what could be so easily provoked.

At least, not until he catches her alone in the corridor outside the war room after a briefing one day, and he feels like he might actually explode from all the time he’s been decent about this. Because — doesn’t he deserve this victory for figuring this whole thing out? And don’t they deserve to know that they’re not nearly as good at secrets as they think they are?

Yeah, totally deserved.

So that has him grabbing her by the arm before this chance slips away, stopping her in her tracks. She wheels around to face him with coldness in her eyes, and an even colder, “ What ?”

"I caught you, sister," he pronounces, grinning, and releases his grip on her; maybe he’s pressing some limits here, but he’s smart enough not to press all of them. When her arms are folded across her chest, and a single brow has ticked up as if to say I’m waiting , he elaborates. "I saw you kissing Captain Andor by the north entrance. Go ahead, tell me I'm wrong. Because you can't."

He expects some kind of reaction from this: annoyance, a creased brow and a hard glint in her eyes, a punch thrown his way that he’s readied himself to duck. Something; anything.

But that’s not what he gets.

No, instead he gets blank eyes staring at him, like he’s just said, unnecessarily, that it’s cold outside, and —

"That wouldn't exactly be weird to see." Erso lifts one shoulder in an easy shrug, adds, "Considering we've been together for over a year," and then turns on her heel to head down the corridor.

It's not until her retreating back is almost entirely out of view that Han manages to yell out: “ WHAT ?!”

[mage-ical-character-person]

Which sesame street characters do you like !!

Many!

As I’m revisiting it I’m going mostly as in-order as I can and I haven’t even gotten to where Elmo is introduced yet!

but!! I love them all so much I will say things about some favorites now

Bert and Ernie are. Everything. Okay. They’re just so. Their skits are always so funny and I love them. And they love each other in one way or another. Honestly I don’t think Bert and Ernie know if Bert and Ernie are a couple any more than the general public does. Like I think they’ve been a part of each others lives for a long time and mean a lot to each other obviously and like there is. Something. With them. I don’t know what, though. I like the idea that they never had the stupid like.. “what are we” discussion thing. You know?

Bert is relatable I also love pigeons. I don’t like how him liking pigeons is sometimes treated like a weird thing honestly I think it’s weirder to not like pigeons. Like also it’s legitimately impressive that he taught his pigeon Bernice to play checkers.

Also there is. This.

I don’t know what to say about this I just think everyone should see it.

and Then!! There is The Count. Count Von Count. The inherent intrigue of the vampirism they refuse to elaborate on. The fact that he is simply just so silly and dramatic and obsessive I love that for him. The bit where he cries over not having anything to count and then gets all excited and counts his tears and then runs out of tears to count and cries about it and then gets so excited and

I keep coming back to the whole like. What’s up with the Vampirism. He’s immortal like he’s 6 million years old literally older than humanity. There are so many things that just make you go “What’s up with that?” Like… just took away Grover’s free will once which is crazy. Not clear if he still has mind control powers and just has learned that doing that is screwed up or if he’s like. Getting weaker cause he’s so busy counting he forgets to feed himself blood or something. (Because like counting used to distract vampires was a folklore thing.)

Genuinely kind of worried about him but he seems to be having a good time so if he is losing his vampire powers or something like that he hasn’t noticed/minded. The whole “numbers vampire” thing is confusing. Like does he feed on numbers? Or is he forgetting to vampire because of numbers? I think he should be allowed to practice vampire self care and take a little sip of blood. Just a little.

I hope he can turn into a bat it would be adorable. Doing this to him

Also! Oscar the Grouch. Obviously wonderful hilarious iconic never seen before

He’s wonderful and we all have days where we are like that. It’s also awesome that like by Grouch standards he’s a total softie and extrovert. It’s fun. Just like when he’s interacting with literally any other character. Also this

I don’t have a Twitter I can’t navigate Twitter why are the posts just not in chronological order can’t live under these conditions but the Sesame Street twitters sometimes make me wish…

anyway. I have literally. Been taking notes. On Sesame Street.

because I know otherwise it’ll all run together in my head.

[ridiasfangirlings]

Sarumi where Fairy Tale Strain casts the Snow White curse on Yata and has him falling into a sleep like death. True Love's Kiss is the only thing that can wake him up. How would this work pre and post reconciliation?

Oh no Yata got hit by the fairytale Strain, if only there was a grumpy prince around to save him 8D Post-betrayal this is probably very awkward, because of course Homra all know who they need to do the kissing but Fushimi would have to get over himself and agree to do it. Imagine Yata even gets hit by the Strain due to Fushimi’s interference somehow, like Homra’s been trying to find this guy for a while because he’s working for some rival gang. Fushimi is also hunting the Strain for S4 reasons but as soon as he sees Yata he immediately abandons his work because teasing Misaki is more fun. They’re about to fight when Yata suddenly yells ‘Saruhiko!’ and jumps in front of him, getting hit by the Strain power. In the aftermath Fushimi yells at Yata because he wasn’t asking to be protected, only to see that Yata is unconscious beside him. No amount of yelling or shaking will wake him, he appears otherwise unharmed but he’s in a deep sleep.

Fushimi sends Homra a quick anonymous message and hovers in the vicinity until they arrive, not like he’s worried or anything but he figures he should at least make sure Homra gathers up their idiot. When he gets back to S4 he does some research on the Strain only because it’s part of his job and finds out that the Strain has ‘fairy tale’ powers and anyone hit by them will fall into a deep sleep, only able to be awakened by true love’s kiss. Fushimi clicks his tongue like ‘stupid,’ probably thinking that what Misaki will want is for Mikoto to kiss him or something. He’s aware that Yata hasn’t woken up as the days go on though, just through rumors, and he keeps telling himself that it’s none of his business. 

Imagine at some point though maybe Anna stops in to see him, like he runs into her and Totsuka in the stables again. Fushimi is all annoyed thinking they’re here to see Basashi but Anna shakes her head and asks Fushimi to come see Misaki. Fushimi scoffs all why would I want to see him, Totsuka laughs and says well we had some ideas on what might wake him up and Anna thought we should stop by. Fushimi refuses to even entertain that, flatly stating he has no idea what they’re talking about, even as Anna tells him Yata’s in hospital and gives him the room number. Fushimi doesn’t intend to do anything with this information — it has nothing to do with him, nothing at all — but maybe he ends up slipping into the room quietly anyway, pressing his lips against Yata’s. He leaves before Yata can move, because Fushimi doesn’t want to know if that’s what really will wake Yata up (he hears later on that yes, Misaki is awake, and tells himself the power just wore off naturally, that’s all).

Post-reconciliation I imagine him being hesitant for an entirely different reason. Like same scenario with Yata getting hit by the Strain and finding out about the ‘true love’s kiss’ thing, imagine Fushimi giving this information to Kusanagi at the bar and literally everyone just looks at him. Fushimi clicks his tongue and mutters why are you all looking at me, saying he’ll do more research to find another way because of course virgin Misaki doesn’t even have a girlfriend. Kusanagi gives him a soft smile as he’s like well I don’t know if you need more research, you might have the answer already, Fushimi clicks his tongue again and says he’ll be in touch, once he’s gone Kusanagi sighs a little and shakes his head like really these two.

Fushimi goes to visit Yata at the hospital and imagine him there alone, leaning over Yata and wondering. He calls Yata an idiot for getting hurt now, right when they reconciled again and weren’t you the one who wanted this the most and now you’re just lying there. Of course part of Fushimi desperately wants to kiss Yata but at the same time he keeps thinking well what if it doesn’t work, what if I’m not what he wants — after all Fushimi’s done how could he of all people possibly be Yata’s’true love.’ He just wants Yata to open his eyes again though and finally Fushimi just leans in and gives Yata a kiss. There’s a moment’s pause and Fushimi grimly thinks ‘what did I expect’…and then Yata’s suddenly kissing him back.

[offbrand-deltatraveler]

Final Thoughts:

Idk how anyone can call Heartcatch one of the best seasons of all time unironically this shit is literally the Jewelpet of Precure

It had a lot of cool concepts and cool characters and cool overall vibe but I can’t bring myself to finish it because the pacing of the story and the way that new information is introduced is always so abrupt and rushed. I tried to ignore it thinking it’d get better later but after it was revealed that Yuri was Cure Moonlight I realized that this season shares all the problems I had with Jewelpet Unlabaled: You have absolutely no idea what’s going to happen at any time because there are no mysteries or foreshadowing or consistently pre-established information to go off of at any point, the show always spoonfeeds you all of the lore in one fell swoop instead of letting you slowly piece it together, and the story moves way too fast for you to get invested in anything. It’s Episode 15 and we already know that Cure Moonlight is alive, who she is, where she currently lives, the fact that she’s just a normal-ass teenager who goes to school and makes breakfast and cries about her daddy issues rather than the legendary figure she was implied to be,

This is not how you keep a story alive. You have to keep your cards close to your chest because if you put them all face-up in the middle of the table but just keep adding more cards to balance it out then the story’s gonna be unnecessarily bloated and will end up deviating so far away from what it was supposed to be that there’s not even any point in following it anymore

And that’s not even getting into how it’s stupid that there even is a Cure Moonlight in the first place because the most interesting aspect of her was that she’s dead but lives on in how the story is only able to happen thanks to her haunting the narrative. Like her significance was that she’s there and not there at the same time but the devs had to ruin that because here at Toei Animations we absolutely fucking loathe good writing

And also there’s the fact that Dark Precure was introduced way too early because she keeps beating Tsubomi & Erika into the ground only to be interrupted at the last minute because they’re not strong enough to deal with her yet but at the same time the devs can’t let them die. If you’re not even gonna let her go all-out and let the Precure beat her fair and square then what’s even the point of having her yet? The one interesting thing she did about “Ruining the Precure’s reputation” hasn’t even come up once in the last 3 Episodes because the devs were too busy rushing the reveal of Cure Moonlight’s identity

The only thing I’m looking forward to at this point is figuring out the identity of that guy who keeps stepping in to save Tsubomi & Erika and that alone isn’t enough to keep me invested because 1. That curiosity is majorly outweighed by how the rest of the story tries its hardest to prevent you from caring about it in any capacity, 2. It’s probably going to be exposition-dumped in the next 5 seconds anyway, and 3. This guy is literally completely irrelevant to everything and only has a 20% chance of appearing once in a Blue Moon. Cure Muse’s reveal took a really long time too but at least she was a regular occurence and actually felt like a character and you had other things to look forward to in the meantime but in this case the rest of the plot is actively crashing and burning and the one thing keeping you interested in it doesn’t even exist half the time

And also the way that this season has no themes whatsoever is really stupid because what do you mean

The side-theme of fashion and beauty is generally more prominent than the main theme of flowers:

-“Floral Power” comes in the form of a line of glitter

-The Precure use perfume to transform

-Tsubomi and Erika form a fashion club together

-Erika’s parents running a fashion shop majorly outweighs the significance of Tsubomi’s parents running a flower shop

Cure Marine has nothing to do with flowers:

-Cure Marine’s connection to flowers is her theme of water but she has nothing to do with water and almost drowns in it in Episode 14

-Cure Marine’s main attack is an explosion

-Neither of the Cures’ attacks have anything to do with flowers and the ones that do are just named that and don’t have any flower-themed visuals

Darkness has no connection to the thing it’s based on:

-Dark Precure is copied from Cure Moonlight when Moonlight is already the dark mirror of Sunshine

-The counter to Floral Power is Dark Power when darkness and flowers have literally no correlation

-It would’ve made infinitely more sense to do away with Dark Power altogether and instead make Dark Precure themed around deforestation

tl;dr: Heartcatch sucks. I like the characters and sense of humor but anything beyond that completely falls flat

On Twitter people get harassed over not liking this all the time and when I finally go to see what all the fuss is about I’m met with garbage. In the time I wasted waiting for this to get good I could’ve finished Kira Kira and Hugtto and been watching Miracle Universe by now