#not your jam dont use it for toast

[magnoliasandarson]

now i lay me down to sleep

Catherine Todd was raised Catholic. Cathy the Catholic. It was one of the universe's great ironies how her life ended up. Jason remembered her now.

A few feet away was his biological mother. Watching as he was bludgeoned while smoking a cigarette, not a wrinkle on her botox-smoothed face. Even when Catherine was so strung out she could barely string a sentence together, she had looked at him like he was precious. Sheila, however, saw only a bug she had to squash in order to save her own hide.

He was dying. He knew it. For all of his refusal to let the Joker see him cry, he knew this was the end. He had failed, just like Bruce knew he would. This was what he got for trying to play hero. He thought of Catherine now.

She had sat him down and taught him how to pray the rosary when he was small. He must've forgotten it over the years. To be entirely fair, he'd never really believed her when she told him that the meek would inherit the earth. Not when Willis kicked the shit out of him, not when he was living in a dumpster, and especially not now, as he faced his inevitable end.

Catherine had believed in heaven and hell. Jason had wiped tears off of her face when she sobbed about how her failures in this life damned her. But when she died, Jason found himself hoping against hope that his Ma was in a nice place. Wherever that may be.

His lungs were punctured. He felt like he was drowning even as he struggled to breathe. Jason wanted to curl up into a ball- to escape for a second, but if he moved, then his shattered ribs would dig further into his organs. He closed his eyes to the demonic red smile and thought of Catherine Todd. She had prayed over him when she was sober. They would kneel on the floor next to their shared futon and she taught him to pray. Jason couldn't find it in himself to pray now.

Bruce probably thought Jason was going to hell. After all, the old man thought Jason had killed a man in cold blood. Jason had never read the bible or anything, but he was fairly certain that 'no killing' was a big one. He hadn't killed Felipe, he hadn't, but he hadn't saved Felipe either. Was that enough to damn him?

As the crowbar swung down to smash into the back of his skull, he thought of Catherine Todd. Was she waiting for him? Wherever she was? Would she smile at him and welcome him into her arms, or would she, too, be disgusted by what he had become?

When the bomb went off, and the flames and agony gave way to peaceful darkness, Jason basked in the feeling that whatever was next, he would find out.

Then he was drowning in toxic green flames and he knew.

Jason Peter Todd was damned.

[bruhnze]

Apple tarts and tiramisu - Part 4

Other parts: part 1 - part 2 - part 3

Wordcount: idk 4k? , disclaimer, not proofread

After quite a short night you had woken up. You didn't want to wake Lucy because you knew how important rest was for an athlete and you kinda were the reason her important sleep was cut short.

You quietly freshened up in the bathroom and put on a t-shirt and panties. After that you made your way to the kitchen.

You searched through the cupboards and the refrigerator for something you could prepare for breakfast. You were low on almost everything, because you had not ran errands yet this week.

Usually you'd go to the supermarket, verdulero (greengrocer) and your mother's bakery to get all your weekly groceries, but this week you hadn't thought about it at all.

You thought about making something rich in protein, you had heard your friend about it enough times to know that was something the athletes needed.

You grabbed some danone yoghurt from your fridge and scooped it in a bowl. Laying some walnuts on it and put a little honey drizzel on top to make it look cute.

Then you went to search some more food, you had a little piece of bread left and decided to toast it and made some scrambled eggs to put on top of that. You had only one egg left so for yourself you just chose to put jam on yours.

You placed it nicely on the kitchen island, at the stool Lucy had now sat on a couple of times.

Then you decided you cold probably make her an iced matcha, as you had everything for it in- ah shit, you thought, you didn't have soy milk, only almond... You decided to just make one cup for now then, if she wouldn't like it with almondmilk you'd drink it and you made a mental note to bring some soy milk from the store.

While you stood with your back towards the kitchen, half crawled into the freezer, looking for the ice cubes you heard a low formilliar voice. ''Good morning y/n''

You looked up and turned around smiling ''goodmorning lucy, good sleep?''.

She streched out, she was only wearing briefs and a sportsbra, still you found it a shame she had put it on, because you remembered leaving the bed with a naked Lucy inside.

''Yeah i slept really good'' her answer pulled you out of your thoughts ''was a bit short tho'' she grinned.

''Oh, i hope i didn't wake you'' You said. She walked up to you and put her hands on your hips, just under you shirt. ''no you didn't wake me'' she said and leaned in to kiss you, but just before your lips met she wispered ''used me toothbrush dont worrie''.

It was a soft kiss, your hands cupped her face and you pulled back after ending the kiss with a couple more pecks on her lips ''made breakfast'' you smiled.

''mhm i smelled scrambled eggs when i woke up'' she hummed ''that made it a bit better''.

''what?'' you aked ''made what better''.

She kissed you again ''waking up in an empty bed'' she pouted.

You laughed ''ohh, for a second i thought there was something wrong, that your muscles acked or something''

Lucy wanted to stay serious but also laughed ''yeah my muscles acke a bit, but that not bad, that's just normal'' she tried to pull her face back together ''nah but i'm serious, i missed you''.

''I didn't want to wake you, sleep is important''' you put your hand on her chest and tilted your head ''and we all feel sad sometimes''

''Oh yeah, what your sad about'' Lucy asked genuin.

''well i liked the other outfit better, the one you slept in, i left you sleeping and now you wear this, but i guess it's allright'' you patted her shoulder and stepped away to finish the macha, by putting in the ice cubes.

''but I was wearing nothing?'' Lucy looked genuinly confused as she took place behind the counter on the stool.

You shrugged with a cheeky smile ''i said what i said''.

''Y/n!'' Lucy grinned ''you put in so much effort for this breakfast and now you make it seem like you want breakfast in bed''.

You didn't go along with it, pretended you didn't understand. You enjoyed playing with her. ''I can put this on a tray?'' you said ''but I'd rather just eat it here, anyway, I made macha, but its with almond milk and not soy, so I don't know if you drink that too ?''

Lucy had to switch gears for a moment but then you replied ''almond is fine too'' she smiled ''thank you for making breakfast''.

You walked over with the drink and sat it on the counter as you took place on her lap. ''made it with love'' you said ''but also with the last ingredients i had, so might have to go grocerie shopping today''.

She kissed you again, another soft kiss, her lips feeling tender on yours. Just gently sucking on your lower lip, before she moved to your top lip and gently pushed her tongue inbetween them. You opened your mouth a bit more and your own tongue joined her exploration.

Cought up in the kiss, which had happend a few times now the last days, the world shutting out when the kiss felt so right, you heard a throat clearing.

Lucy and you turned your heads at the same time, to were the sound had came from.

''Goodmorning!'' the figure said, whom you had now recognised as your mom.

Your cheeks went dark red, you felt caught, eventhough this was your own house.

You felt Lucy quickly removing her hands from your ass, and saw her leaving them hanging besides her body akwardly, not knowing what to do with herself.

''Goodmorning'' your mom tried again, with the same enthousiasm as the first time.

Now it was your turn to clear your throat ''hey mom, goodmorning'' you said with forced kindness in your voice ''what are you doing here?''.

''bring you bread!'' she said in broken english ''i haven't seen you in such a long time and i know you still have to eat, so i bring bread to you, because you had no time to pick up i see now!'' She smiled.

You walked over to your mom and took the bag from her ''thanks mom'' and gave her a hug anyway, eventhough you were very emberassed ''sorry'' you said softly, but Lucy heard it too.

''Yeah sorry'' she akwardly said as she stood up ''i would give you a hug also but im kinda bare''

''ah come here nena'' your mom smiled ''give me a hug''.

Your mom walked over to Lucy and they shared an embrace.

''Do you want a drink?'' you asked your mom, usually if she'd come to yours, she'd have a cup of tea.

''a glass of water'' your mom said ''i'll be away soon''.

You laughed at her poor english skills, but you were proud that she used what you had thought her.

The distraction of the conversation between you and your mom had Lucy taken to quickly retrieve some clothes and came back walking into the kitchen wearing her tracksuit and struggling to put on socks while she was walking.

Your mom sat down with the cup of water and Lucy took place next to her ''the tiramisu was really good'' she said.

You smiled because that was actually the most perfect thing she could've said. Your moms passion for food, or rather making food, could easily make her forget about all she had just witnessed and compliment about her food was even better.

''Ahh sii!'' your mom clapped her hands ''dessert always good!''

''Yes dessert is the best'' she winked at you without your mom seeing ''but your tiramisu was the best i had in my whole life''.

''gràcies Lucy, espero poder fer-ho per a tu moltes vegades més'' (thank you Lucy i hope i can make it for you many many more times)

Lucy tilted her head and stared at your mom thinking ''i dont, gràcies, yes that's, thank you but my catalan doesn't go further then that yet im affraid, moltes? that's many?''

''gràcies Lucy, espero poder fer-ho per a tu moltes vegades més'' (thank you Lucy i hope i can make it for you many many more times) Your mom repeated slowely.

Lucy shook her head, ''im sorry, i don't-

''we try in spanish'' your mom excitedly said ''gracias Lucy espero poder hacerlo muchas veces más''

''Ahhh, i hope i can make it for you many many more times'' she exclaimed.

''siii Luciii, muyy biennn'' your mom shared her excitement.

You on the other hand had gone a bit more silent, afraid your moms comment went a bit to far seeming as though you and Lucy were very much still very early days''.

Lucy looked over at you ''yo también lo espero'' (i hope that too) and then leaned over to your mom and wispered something in her ear ''quiero pedirle que sea mi novia pero tengo un poco de miedo'' (i want to ask her to be my girlfriend but i'm a bit afraid)

Your moms face lit up and you were now very curious what had been said, you cleared your throat ''it's rude to wisper in company''.

Your mom laughed ''sorry pequeña'' and turned towards Lucy ''but i think Lucia will tell you tonight over a dinner romántica''.

She rubbed Lucy's arm and stood up ''good luck, it will be fine'' she grinned, Lucy also stood up ''thank you, it was lovely to see you again Elena and sorry for the way you- we-

''It is okay pequeña'' your mom interupted her ''i only care if my bebita is happy, and i see she is very, so i am happy too'' she laughed ''it was my own fault, i will use doorbell from now on''.

''or just call or text if you plan to come over'' you called after her.

''està bé, ho faré bebè'' (okay baby, i will) Your mom said as she walked out the door ''bye luciii''.

''Bye!'' Lucy said before she put her hands before her face and groaned. ''major bad impression''

''I feel ashamed too'' you said but walked over to her again too sit back on her lap ''but luckily it was just my mom, good move with the -the tiramisu was amazing-'' you mimicked her.

''Oh shut up, it's true, i wanted to tell her the next time i saw her at the shop'' Lucy took your hands, wich were fiddling with your necklace ''but i hadn't seen her since''.

''mkay, it's okay anyways, i like that she likes you'' you said ''but don't go to far'' you pointed at her chest, moving her hands along.

''Too far? that's not even possible, aren't you Catalans like known for close relationships and all that''.

''No, you know what i mean Bronze'' you said sternly ''wispering with my mom, joking around''.

''ooh, new nickname'' she grinned ''you can call me that more, i like the way you say it''

''it's the nickname for when i'm not happy with you'' you said ''so i don't think you want that Bronze''.

''It was nothing'' Lucy huffed ''i just wanted to ask her something''.

''about tonight?''

''yeah, well, no... i asked her something and i-, want to ask if you want to go to dinner with me tonight?''

You laughed ''your not making any sense, but dinner sounds good''.

''Good'' she grinned ''By the way, you know what i was thinking when your mom was here''

''yeah?'' you encouraged her to go on.

''that i was sooooo gladddd that i was wearing my underwear, that was naked enough for me'' she palmed her face ''that was bad enough to be honest''.

''well my mom promised she'll knock from now on'' you said seductively, pulling her hand away from her face ''and no one else has a key''.

She looked up at you, when she read you face she obliged and leened in to continue were the two of you had been interrupted earlier.

/////

It was the end of the day, almost time for dinner. Lucy had told you she was going to get dressed at home quickly and would pick you up in 45 minutes, leaving you some time to get ready aswell.

The morning had ended with sex on the kitchen island, wich had continued in the shower. After that the two of you had walked to the supermarket and greengrocer, skipping the bakery from your mom, as the bread had already been home-delivered.

Lucy had carried the three bags, and she would hear you about helping her ''you do it all by yourself normally'' she had said ''so i can handle it easily'' resulting in a scoff from you.

Back at home she was helping you put the groceries away ''just let me'' you had said as she didn't know were you kept everything. ''No just show me, next time i'll know it'' she had said. The comment had made you happy, it had gave you the idea that she did really like you the way you started to like her.

You had decided on a black dress, and was looking for some shoes to wear under it as the doorbell rang.

''Geez your fast apple tarts'' you snickered through the intercom.

''Yeah and the car is kinda blocking the way, so i hope you are ready, or should a drive another time around the block'' Lucy called back.

''No just my shoes, be right there''

''i'll be in the car''

As you came out of the building she quickly got up out of the car, resulting in a honking horn from the car behind.

''Don't worrie'' Lucy laughed ''he just pulled up behind me 30 seconds ago''. She held the door open for you and you stepped in the car.

She got back behind the wheel and quickly drove off, not wanting to anger the person behind her any longer.

'Nice car'' you said, eyeing the vehicle.

''thanks, its Barca's tho, every player gets one to use while they're in contract with the club''

''cool'' You said, not caring a bit about cars, just having said that because the car was clean and smelled fresh, actually knowing nothing more than that. You barely knew what your own car was called.

''Nice dress'' Lucy said as she layed her hand on your knee.

You turned to her, she wore a blouse and some slacks, which she pulled of very well, but you were most intrigued by her jewlery, you hadn't really seen her with it often, only when she came in the coffee store on a free day.

Tonight she was wearing a small golden nosering, earrings and some other things but the rings pulled your attention most. Something about it made her look hot, her veiny hands with those chunky rings.. ugh, you put your hand on hers.

''You look very good yourself'' you said.

''Thank you'' she said shyly.

You chuckled at her shy smile.

''what?'' Lucy asked you, still looking at the road ahead, navigating through the centre of Barcelona.

''Nothing'' you said softly ''i just noticed that you are more shy with words than with actions, i think it's cute''.

''Actions?''

''Yeah, like you have your hand on me now, but you get shy when i say that you look very hot''.

She smiled ''physical confidence is one positive thing coming from being an athlete, and i chose it because i was dead shy, or it chose me maybe''.

''hmm'' you put your hand on her knee now, removing it from her hand that was still on yours ''Do you still ever experience obstacles due to your shyness? or is it better now?''

She smiled and tenderly pinched your knee ''yes, when im around a pretty girl''.

''Shut up'' you laugh ''im serious''.

''Yes i am serious, but okay another example, when i met yfs/n the other day'' Lucy looked at you quickly ''i was pretty nervous''.

''Meeting yfs/n? my yfs/n?''

''yes, i wanted her to like me''

You grabbed her hand ''she likes you very much, she asks about meeting you again a lot'' you laughed ''i think everyone i know will love you just like me, it seems to go that way anyways, i mean my mom this morning, god, if it had been anyone else i bet she would've flung her shoe at you, i was surprised actually, that she-

You looked over at Lucy who had became silent but wore a broad grin on her face.

''Dont be so happy with yourself'' you squeezed her hand ''it was still embarrassing''.

''eek, yeah not that'' Lucy said ''what you said before''.

She turned her hand around below yours and entangled your fingers with hers.

''everyone i know will like you?'' You searched back through everything you had said.

''ohw'' Lucy said visibaly dissapointed.

''what tell me?''

''No nevermind i just thought you said something -

Then it struck you ''omg im sorry, i hadn't meant for it too slip out like that'' you said shocked.

''So you did mean it?'' she asked carefully.

''yeah but i was actually kinda trying to not say it yet'' you said ''didn't want to scare you away''.

''me too''

''me too?''

''i had the same thoughts, and i also didn't want to move too fast for you''

You laughed 'we're still dancing around it''.

''Say it properly then''. Lucy squeezed your hand.

''I took the first step!'' you called out.

''Yeah but i'm taking the biggest one''

You didn't understand her but she told that you'd see what she meant soon. After that you had told her you loved her and Lucy had said it back.

////

''Quite a fancy place'' you said as she parked her car.

''Only the best for my love'' she swooned.

''ah new nickname!'' you said excitedly

''mhmm'' 'now wait here, i'll open the door''.

She walked around the car.

''im glad chivalry still exists'' you joked as she opened the door for you.

Lucy jokingly bowed ''my lady'' she said as she took your hand. Making you giggle.

////

..

Lucy had ordered a dessert for the two of you to share. She wasn't up for the tiramisu you suggested saying ''It won't be as good as your moms'' and had chosen something else. You were stuffed anyways and thought wouldn't have room for dessert.

While you two waited on the dessert to be served you sipped at your drink, Lucy wasn't drinking but had said she didn't mind you drinking, you didn't want to drink alone but she had ordered you a specific glass of wine anyways. It was delicious, she had great taste.

''Would you be my girlfriend?''

You looked up at her laughing ''what is this kindergarten?''

She looked at you with a startled face.

''im kidding Lucy! a joke, sorry''

''and?'' she asked.

Now you looked at her startled.

''i know we've only known eachother for a month and a bit but-

''Yes'' you interrupted her.

She smiled and took your hand ''good, now it's exclusive''.

You raised an eyebrow ''it's been exclusive for me since the beginning''

''good to know'' she smirked ''oh me too ofcourse'' she said realising that was what you were after, ''but i just liked to say it, feels good''.

''mmh, guess it does'' You smirked ''but eating dinner with my date, and sharing a dessert with my girlfriend, doesn't sound very exclusive''

Lucy laughed ''stupid''

''Your girlfriend is stupid'' you joked, just as the waiter came with the dessert, you blushed and hoped he hadn't heard it, that would've come across way worse than it was.

As the waiter walked away again Lucy burst out laughing ''that's what you get, talking bad about my girlfriend.''

...

''Oh my, this is actually good'' you said as she had fed you a bite.

''i told you'' she laughed ''but im surprised i am the one showing you a spanish dessert''.

''Yeah if i do take a dessert, i always go for tiramisu'' you shrugged ''or icecream if they dont have that''.

''hmm'' Lucy said thoughtfully ''i had presumed you were more adventurous, but apparently i was wrong''.

'well' you said as you took another bite '' i gues i never looked into it, just chose what i knew'' you looked at her ''but you can be my guide''.

''for the adventures?''

''yeah bronzey, show me around in dessertland'' you wispered.

She gulped, clearly getting your dirty inside joke ''you seem to know your way around quite well''.

Your eyes widend, the way she said that it sounded like she was calling you a slut.

She realised it too as soon as the words had left her mouth and slapped her hands before her mouth 'i did not mean it like that''.

You leaned close to her ''your lucky because I happen to have a rule that my girlfriend can call me a slut, only in certain occasions of course, but i'll forgive you for now and you can try again later''

As you sank back into your seat you shot her a wink.

You saw her clenching the armrest with her hand and swalowing hard.

-------

more parts

[fungifanart]

Hello there! Ive read your rules about requests just to make sure I dont request anything you dont like-

Anyway, Ive read some of your twst works, and I LOVE them! Their so amazing! Anyway can I request a riddle x m!reader just having a tea party date? That would be wonderful! Its ok if you dont do this request tho!

Tea For Two

Characters: Male reader, Riddle Rosehearts, Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade

Cw: Mild cartoon violence

Word count: 807

Notes: That's so sweet! Thank you for your kind words!

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

Riddle paces back and forth in front of the gazebo as he mentally goes over the list of everything he'd done to prepare for afternoon tea with you:

Fresh darjeeling tea? Check.

Toast with your choice of jam or butter? Check.

A wide variety of cookies, scones and miniature sandwiches laid out on a tea tower? Check.

Ace and Deuce being ordered to trim the bushes on the FAR opposite end of the hedge maze? Double check.

Riddle stops pacing to look over the table underneath the gazebo one last time, ensuring that he's content with the placement of everything, which he is, although he can't help but feel a little sad at the absence of a tart of any description.

When Riddle had first made the suggestion of afternoon tea, you specifically requested he not have any tarts prepared, much to his surprise and disappointment.

But still, what is a relationship without making compromises?

And so, Riddle decided to respect your wishes and leave tarts out of the preparations.

Riddle is then pulled from his thoughts by the sound of footsteps behind him and he turns around to see his lovely boyfriend approaching with a soft expression.

"Y/N! Wonderful to see that you made it!" Riddle says happily as he walks toward you before noticing a small box you're carrying in your hand, "May I ask what you have there?"

You give a small giggle before responding, "It’s a surprise! Let's sit down first." You say while motioning to the table.

Riddle nods as he and you walk to the table while talking happily to each other, so happily, in fact, that neither of you notice the sound of rustling leaves slowly getting closer.

After you both sit down, you proudly place the box in front of Riddle and begin to speak, somehow still not noticing the leaf rustling getting ever closer, "It’s been a while since we've been able to be alone like this, so I decided to make something special for you! I spent a whole week looking up and trying different recipes to make sure these were perfect just for–"

Your sentence is cut off by Ace and Deuce crashing through the hedge parallel to your table while throwing punch after punch at each other.

Riddle's curiosity at your creations is immediately replaced by fury at his underclassmen as he stands up to reprimand them before the butter knife suddenly disappears from the table and finds itself forcefully embedded in a wooden plank between the two freshmen's faces, causing all parties to freeze in shock.

Riddle watches as you wordlessly stand up with a blank expression, walk over to where the knife is and yank it out of the wood before pointing it at the freshmen and then using it to threaten them by making a cutting motion over your neck as both of their faces go pale.

Ace and Deuce run off as you sigh and sit back down at the table while Riddle does the same, albeit very stunned and mildly impressed by how you handled the troublemakers.

"Anyways, as I was saying," You begin calmly, leaving the large hole in the hedges to be dealt with later, "I put a whole week into making sure I could make these perfectly just for you!"

Riddle's eyes widen as you finally open the box, revealing six miniature tarts of various colors looking back at him. He sees a lemon tart and a blueberry tart among others, but most importantly, he sees a bright red strawberry tart at the center that feels like it's almost calling out to him.

Riddle stares dumbfoundedly as you take the miniature tarts out of the box and lay them out for him in all their glory, "So this is why you asked for no tarts…?" He says in awe.

You scratch your cheek sheepishly while responding, "Heh, yeah. It made me sad to see you so disappointed, but I wanted it to be a surprise." You say while reaching over to take Riddle’s hand in yours, "And…what kind of boyfriend would I be if I couldn't do something special for you?"

Riddle feels his cheeks instantly turn as red as the strawberry tart in front of him as he intertwines his fingers with yours and maintains loving eye contact with you for several minutes before the cheesiness of the situation settles in, bringing an awkward atmosphere with it.

"So…do you, uh, wanna try the tarts now?" You say as you let go of Riddle’s hand to bring yours to the back of your head awkwardly.

Riddle can't help but miss the warmth of your hand in his, but he still smiles softly at your question, "I'd like that very much." He responds while placing the strawberry tart on his plate and grabbing his knife and fork.

[sirmidezz]

Rambo head canons

Except it's just me projecting

-had a hippie faze himself up until he got drafted. After that his entire perspective changed on them.

-calling him a sad shelter dog is a understatement. He is a soggy wet rez dog that trautman found on the side of the road and gave a hot dog to.

-John's sad puppy dog eyes are not only used for looking at things, but also to secretly hypnotize any waiter lady to get free appetizers.

-he can sing he just doesn't want to. (Let this man sing a Johnny Cash song and be prepared to fall in love.)

-knows so many insults but doesn't use them mostly because he is genuinely a nice guy and doesn't like hurting peoples feelings unless the other person deserves a good word with him.

-he can be mean and not think twice about it, but he chooses not to.

-want to watch a movie with him? He will fall asleep as soon as he sits down on the couch.

-hides candy in his sock drawer to feel in control of himself. (Same)

-he buys candy he doesn't even like just to hide it. (Same)

-don't ever ask John for money. He doesn't have anything to provide and will only give you his thoughts n prayers.

-"ur transgener?" John will understand, he doesn't judge anyone. He grew up around 2 spirited people.

-John will never understand a "deez nuts" joke so please dont make them around him he will only look at you confused and stare at you after you make the joke.

-he has a pair of dad glasses he uses to read any letter sent to him. You want to show him a meme? Watch him pull out a pair of glasses and not laugh at the meme.

-he doesn't want a pet but if you get him a pet he will treat the pet like his own baby.

-when he was younger he learned how to hoop dance. He doesn't know how to dance now which is honestly very disappointing. (Same but with another dance😭)

-unironically goes "hehehe" when he gets what he wants like extra jam on his toast.

-has that generational trauma on BOTH sides. (Got hit with a double whammy)

-looks Lana Del Rey, but is actually mitski.

-almost never cries, but when he does someone probably died. Like nothing else but loss (and his talking about his past) can make this man break down nowadays.

-if he were a line in a song it would be, "cause now I'm scared that everyone I love will leave me," (family line by Conan grey)

-if someone sat john down looked him in the eyes, held his hands and said, "your soul needs peace, you need to releive your anger not with violence, but with a gentle breath, allow yourself to feel for one last time." Then he will cry. Like full on ugly cry into your shoulder and let out pained groans and whimpers typa shit.

-he has big parental issues only he distances himself away from everybody he ever gets attached to in fear of being hurt again.

-he craves physical touch, only he gets so uncomfortable when someone hugs him.

-this man can deadlift 300. maybe even more, he can go walking miles without stopping once. hell he is a whole unit, but he will not go to the kitchen to get you a cup of water no matter how much you ask him.

-hates mushrooms.

-had a pet crawdad he accidentally lost. (It's still alive somehow, he just doesn't know it.)

-thugs it out on a daily. 💯💯 (I will pay for his therapy)

[volivolition]

ok so. just curious but omg what are your favourite Unus Annus moments/quotes?

We rewatch compilation vids of unus annus vids alllll the time because Fuck we miss it so much BFNDSNDNDJS and some that have gotten burnt into our head recently areee:

Like that Whole first video with the sex toys. but especially the part where a guy just shows up at Mark's door and they're in fucking bdsm gear and cat ears eating breakfast FHDJXJDJD

The video with them making a sensory deprivation tank. "Mark, what's the main ingredients in sensorary deprivation tanker?" lives rent free in our head tbh we quote that so much. Same with that bit where Ethan accidentally unplugs the tub lmao "WHere's the drain??" ".... By your feet." ".... What do I do with it :)?"

This one's like HARD to find in compilation vids but I swear at one point Ethan was doing something with a knife and Mark was like, verbatim, "If you cut me I bleed oooouuutttt :)!!!" And the AMOUNT OF TIMES WE QUOTE THAT ONE. IS SO MUCH AUSJSJSJSDJXJXJDJ

Other moments that live in our brain rent free include but r not limited to That time Ethan was singing Mark's songs in the car ("I don't gonna VOOOOOOOTE"), That time Ethan started singing fuckin Eminem out of nowhere, and the egg toss scene where Mark threatens to kill Ethan (THIS one we can find a video of easily here it is). Oh also that one bit where Ethan was fucking.... Just talking nonsense which narrows it down very little actually. but he was saying shit like "Have You Ever Been Bitten by a Frog? Have you ever been bitten by a Log? Have you ever been bitten by a Dog? Have you ever been bitten,,, By The Fog??" that scene fucking kills us FJFJDJDJFJD

-Anti/Tulip

HI HELLO!! (this is a month old im so sorry hkjh) I ALSO MISS IT HKJGH it was such a good concept, i love the meaningfulness of life and death behind the channel, contrasted with the silliest fuckin videos imaginable, i thought it was so fun?? let's try new things! let's be weird and wild EVERYDAY!! it doesn't need to be complex, we can just shoot the shit because theres still worth in the mundane moments, and our time on earth is limited anddd my god i think its so nice hgkjh <33

THE FIRST VIDEO IS SO FUCKING ICONIC HJHGKF to think of making breakfast with sex toys in the first place, the execution, the GUY WHO SHOWS UP AND THEIR FUCKING PANIC THATS SO FUNNY HKJHG

QUOTES YOU CAN HEAR AS YOU READ THEM KJHGG, "Mark, what's the main ingredient! In sepfruary desperation tanker :)" unplugging the tub like, Ethan oh no hkjhg… Ethan noooo…

i don't think i remember that one but my god hkjhg i will bleed ooooouuuttttt :)!!

I LOVE THE SINGING IT'S DEAR TO ME hkjg suddenly just "TOAST!" in the middle of the lyrics like HGKJH I DON'T THINK THATS RIGHT BUT I HAVENT DONE ENOUGH OF HEIST TO DISPUTE IT HKGJH

"knees weak, arms are heavy, mom's spaghetti... HES NERVOUS,,!!!!"

"I get to kill you now!! I'm going to kill you!! :)" HAKJSH THE THREATENING AURA...

I KNOW THAT LAST ETHAN QUOTE BUT I DONT REMEMBER FROM WHICH VIDEO HKJHG but i know the exact intonation he's saying it in hkjhg

personally enjoyed like, basically every time they sang, and also like. so many ethan moments hkjh i was an unus for real <33

i was still singing the disclaimer song for like, MONTHS after unus annus ended hkjh "Don't try this at home~ If you do you might dieee~!!" and the dance of italy still makes me laugh and the drive to camp with vocal warm ups were REALLY FUN, reminds me of my choir days <33 also "diggin my friend a grave~!! DIGGIN MY FRIEND A GRAVE~!!!!!!"

THE DRUM DATE DO YALL REMEMBER THE DRUM DATE?? theres a point where it actually sounds surprisingly good and im INCREDIBLY FOND OF THEM JAMMING OUT hfhj

this clip of ethan in the hot tub burbling is me whenever im in ANY water source ever hfjgj

im also fond of the real sensory deprivation tank experience, that was really fun getting to see the real deal compared to the. bathtub hkjhg

"Siri, call us daddy." "I couldn't find a father in your contacts" [TWIN LOOKS OF AGHAST SHOCK] FUCKGIJGN????? OH MY GOD... FUCK, MAN HGKJH

"a ski... skee... skipple... skiiiir... skirtle... skrittle... A SKITTLE!! no wait..." <- BIG FUCKIN MOOD HKGJH

i think the last video (other than the stream) that i rewatched from them was Ethan Teaches Gymnastics because i really do love just Ethan showing off all the moves he knows. COMPETENT GYMNAST!! THE BACKFLIP GUY HKJGH <333 the part where ethan talks about having to see how many fingers his instructor was holding up and mark flipping him off was really funny to me hgkjh that video holds a place in my heart hkjgh

ohhh theres probably so much more but these are what i remember hkjh <33 thank you for asking this, and thank you for sharing your favorites too hehehe!!! :3 <33 <22 i love reminiscing about this, i miss this channel jhkjgh <333 memento mori!!! :D

[juniper-c]

Folks from the US getting condescending about people not from the states has to be my least favourite genre of posts. Like, i swear every other week I see some shit written in half baked (british) english slang about baked beans or jellied eels or rotten teeth and it drives me up the wall. Just a bunch of fundamental misunderstandings about a place they've never been too with little to no curiosity about what life might actually be like there.

Im only coming at this from a UK angle so cant speak for anywhere else but a quick rundown on all this shit states side people get wrong about our food specifically because thats what winds me up the most.

Beans on toast is a cheap staple breakfast food, not the cornerstone of our cullinary tradition.

In most urban city centers you get a complex mix of diaspora informed food stuffs, primarily indian and east asian because of all that colonialism we did. Relatively large muslim populations also bring in middle eastern influences.

Even what you might think of as a classic british pub will sell you a basic curry unless you're in the arse end of nowhere. This is not niche shit. Our whole food culture is shaped by this.

What you could call 'classic' british cooking like full roast dinners with Yorkshire puddings, propery gravy, sruffung, and all the other fixings are fucking great actually. Bit of lamb with mint, bit of pork with apple sauce, cut of beef with mustard. It goes hard.

Even if you are in the arse end of nowhere stuff like pasties, proper pies, stews with dumplings, fish and chips, and other sea side holiday basics that make you think of little coves in north devon are also good, actually. Yes its not spiced to all hell and back, but they incoperate herbs and vegatables and stocks in ways that give it a unique depth of flavour distinct from cultures informed by a more spice heavy tradition.

Say what you will about our shit (complimentary) chicken shops and rubbery high street donner in years of nights out blind drunk in student bits of the city they've never once given me the gastric distress y'all describe post taco bell.

Of course our mexican food isn't particularly authentic, the countries half a planet away and we dont have a large mexican diaspora. What we do have is tuned for mass market appeal by largish chains or sold out of artisinal taco food trucks that we all find a bit wanky tbh.

Spicy food exists, and we quite like it. Yes even pasty white tony who turns the colour of jam when he eats a medium hot vindaloo. Indian food is a cornerstone of our national diet of course we know what chilli powder is.

And finally nobody eats fucking jellied eels it was a victorian era poverty food and even then only in london.

Also our chocolate is better than yours because we dont put the weird chemical in it that makes it taste like sick. Eat a kit kat and die mad about it.

[acnhconfessions]

i want a game thats kind of, mostly like acnh with all its customization and yes the fact you can keep the villagers hostage bc im evil like that. but with all the charm and coziness that acnl seems to have. listening to the music from that game or looking at screenshots from the game, i get this overwhelming cozy feeling of both like, a warm summer night and a festive winter day. i never got to play it bc i was still tiny when it came out and then when i got interested in ac they stopped selling acnl, also i have no clue how to use an emulator lol.

for some reason it reminds me of like, falling asleep mid-day while reading and laying in the sun. or like, going out for a walk while its raining and seeing all the worms start to come out of the dirt. or just going about your day completely normal until you see 1 little thing and youre suddenly transported back into childhood as nostalgia washes over you. it feels like buying yourself a little snack after work, or like making dinner using vegetables you grew yourself. like home brewed coffee. nl tastes mostly sweet but with a bit of bitterness and saltiness. nl would taste like toast with jam on it.

of course, thats just a romanticized version of it but comparing that with the real experience i have with acnh is just kind of... i know acnh seems to be the most hated game at the moment but honestly sometimes it feels like chore. some days i dont even talk to my villagers and just go straight to the dlc. the flowers multiply too fast and its really bothering if you only want a certain flower color or they spread so much theres not enough room to place things. i use my house as more of a storage unit than something to decorate. it feels... inorganic, far too sanitized (and thats coming from a germaphobe). if i were to compare how thinking of it right now makes me feel and compare that to how just looking at acnl makes me feel its like...

having a job thats technically easy but draining, and then after a long day you see a motivational poster as you leave. feels like throwing your old clothes in the trash instead of the thrift store. its like those shitty 5 minute crafts with the incomprehensible script. its like a starbucks or dunkin donuts, its not bad tasting but you would only get it on your way to work, you wouldnt sit down at the coffee shop and eat there. it feels like having to pay $4 for 2 tomatoes. so... it just feels corporate and clean. not hating if youre all about that acnh capitalism life!!! it just doesnt feel right. animal crossing is supposed to be like, THE cozy game but nh does not feel cozy.

idk, maybe pocket camp is that game? its a mobile but it came out inbetween nl and nh, im just not sure if i wanna spend date on that

[mockingbirdshymn]

giving camp camp characters favorite foods

preston: french toast and bagels with cream cheese. he really likes blueberry bagels and blueberry muffins. he's a breakfast food kinda guy

harrison: bannana bread!!!! he really seems like a bananna bread guy. and a hot dog guy too, he definitely loves hot dogs

nerris: pizza. only cheese pizza, though, she doesn't like pepperoni. their dad always orders one during long dnd sessions that take up most of the evening. she likes dominos especially because their dad orders the cookie brownies too when they get dominos

max: smiley french fries. he also likes to press them down in a pile of ketchup to make the ketchup ooze out of their eye and mouth holes like blood. (im hoping that was a universal kid thing and that i wasnt just weird as fuck)

nikki: pb&j uncrustables!! she likes normal pb&js the same, though. she only eats them with either strawberry or blackberry jam

neil: lunchables. despite how hes well aware how unhealthy they are, he likes the fact theyre compact and he can take them anywhere with ease

space kid: his mother's chocolate chip cookies and dinosaur egg oatmeal (the kind where the egg melts over time in the oatmeal to reveal a colored dino inside)

dolph: shaped mac & cheese (ie. dino mac n' cheese, spongebob mac, etc.) he won't eat the normal macaroni (he only uses it for macaroni art)

ered: oreos, specifically the weird oreo flavors or double stuffed, and sonic drive thru

nurf: dinosaur nuggets but only the soggy ones you get at lunch at your shitty school that are soaked in like corn juice or some shit because i dont like nurf

david: sandwiches! lettuce, tomato, turkey, ham, mayo, onion, he has it all. he packs one every day for max to bring to school. max doesnt like them but he pretends to so that david feels happy

gwen: sushi!! she seems like a sushi lover. she probably eats a lot of cups of noodles

cameron campbell: his mother's oatmeal raisin cookies

bonus:

space kid has an uncanny resistance to spice. kids at camp started to feed him spicy stuff but he never seemed to react.

harrison once sobbed as a kid bc he ate deer and got upset because deer are cute and he ate one without knowing it was a deer :(

nikki always gives her leftovers to the pigeons in the city she lives near whenever she eats there. even if she doesnt have any, she makes sure to give some to the city birds. pigeons never forget a face, and they follow nikki whenever shes in the city. shes started bringing crumbs and food in her pockets to scatter behind her whenever they show up.

[grimsneverendingfuneral]

weird shit for you to tell us about tomorrow: what colour do you think your soul is? what sex-related injury are you most likely to inflict? what’s your dream breakfast? what’s your nightmare breakfast? what gets you off lately? what makes you feel whole? when you think of someone you hate, what is it about them that makes you so bothered? what were you like when you were four? ok love you goodnight

its far from tomorrow but it is today

my soul is purple. blues and reds billowing against each other, melancholy and passion merging together. serenity, wisdom and reliability fusing with anger love vigour and courage. ya

i bite really hard during sex. i only broke skin once but its because my canine scraped her collarbone

dream breakfast FUCK. honestly. any cabane à sucre breakfast forever and ever. classic eggs sausage bacon potatoes toast with jam and butter and a side of blueberry pancakes. nightmare breakfast? huh. i dunno. i love breakfast. probably like….oatmeal

what gets me off? im not sure if this has a sexual intent but i shall answer figuratively and literally. figuratively, pretty much everything. i am a very grateful individual. the cracks in my life are filled with gold. as for sexually, being smothered, like, borderline suffocated

ngl when i bike really really fast (and recklessly) on my electric bike and feel like im about to die but i dont. i feel pretty whole then

i dont hate anyone, not really. i kinda mostly feel pity for people, which might be worse. i think ultimately though, the thing i tend to “hate” the most is when someone tries to manipulate me so blatantly and obviously. even worse when it actually works. anything that bothers me in someone though is kinda silly, in retrospect, because its usually just a personality clash.

when i was four i was polite, charming, dangerously curious and highly adventurous. i would climb everywhere. every time my mom would turn away from me, i’d climb. you always had to look up to find me. i was a bit strange, always thinking. i needed constant stimulation and would get it on my own. i was very very mature. would greet people at the door, offer them water. i had manners. i wanted attention but didn’t know how to get it. i was off in lalaland a lot, always making up stories and roleplaying entire movies. i wasn’t much different than how i am now, only more innocent.

thank you so kindly for this. it was super fun like holy shit. you’re so good to me 💗

[justsomerandomfanfic]

hi! i saw you did mashups on your blog and i was wondering if i could get one for x-men/lord of the rings?

im 20yrs old, my names phoenix, im 5'0 and have smaller green eyes and bright ginger hair, and i love few things in this world as much as toast and david bowie.

{some} of my favorite things are;

the color blue, stars/moons,classic lit, tea, spiderman anddd 90s movies<3

{some} things i hate aree; a court of thorns and roses, ppl who mock taylor swift andd bigots [i dont hate most things lol]

im pretty shy but when i get talking i dont shut up and can get bored quite easliy, i could talk for hours about starwars and i have a super protective baby sister who i love to pieces<3

hope this isnt to much idk how these things work- have a perfectly lovley day!

Heyy!! Thank you so much for requesting a matchup! The info you have presented to me is excellent, don't worry! (Love your name btw) I hope you enjoy the matchup!! Thanks again! <333

X-Men;

Hank McCoy:

💙 You met Hank when you became the new music teacher at Professor X's mansion for Gifted Youngsters, (your 'superpowers' as you call them, are amazing, you can mentally manipulate the energy generated by stars as well as their electromagnetic, gravitational, radiation and cosmic energies)

💙 Hank, being the science professor, you had passed each other in the halls many times when you went to a from classes; you, as a music professor, and sometimes English substitute, help kids with music theory and how to read notes, and some days you show the kids' different music genres and just jam out all together

💙 You and Hank began to talk more and more, being co-workers and all, it was a bit awkward and slow in the beginning on both of your parts, Hank was almost as shy as you when it came to you first talking, but she got used to you and vise versa, and both of you became quick friends

💙 When he didn't have classes to teach, Hank would visit you during classes, watching you with the kids and sometimes joining in and nervously trying to play the violin; after a couple of weeks though, Hank asked if you wanted to join him for tea

💙 You both made tea in the kitchen, laughing and making jokes as you both then left and walked around the gardens of the mansion outside; Hank loved how much you cared about your favorite topics and interests, like David Bowie, Spiderman, and 90's movies

💙 Hank was a bit worried originally when he began talking to you, that you'd be afraid of him after he fully turned into the Beast, so he tried his best to avoid you, but you found him and Hank was scared, he really liked you; you reassured him that you'd like him no matter what, (along with telling him that your favorite color was blue)

💙 You began dating not long after, and you two would spend a lot of time together when you both weren't working or fighting baddies, watching the stars on a balcony in the mansion, reading together in the library by the fire, or just cuddling while music softly played in the background; it was nice, dream-like, perfect

💙 Hank finds you captivating, from your green eyes to your bright ginger hair, and he was fascinated by your love of Star Wars, admiring you as you ranted on and on about your favorite plots and characters, you were so amazing

💙 You found yourself falling more and more in love with Hank, finding him extremely sweet, caring, funny... You were so impressed by his intelligence, and how his brain worked, often times you'd just watch him in the lab, just watching the gears in his head turn

💙 You two were inseparable, two peas in a pod, you two understood each other so perfectly; you never thought you'd find someone like Hank, and you were so happy that you did

--

Lord Of The Rings;

Legolas Greenleaf:

🏹 You were part of the Fellowship, having an incredible talent for reading maps and following stars, you met Legolas the very same day the Fellowship banded together

🏹 You found him attractive, tall, and pretty funny with his slightly snarky comments, but it took you a while until you finally spoke to him

🏹 When you did speak to each other, you brought up that you both used a bow and arrow to fight orcs and whatnot, Legolas actually gave you a few tips and even taught you how to shoot two arrows at once

🏹 Legolas found you strikingly beautiful when he first laid his eyes on you, your bright hair immediately caught his blue eyes and he loved how much you loved the stars and moon, along with music in general; he'd find you humming sometimes when you and the rest of the Fellowship were walking

🏹 When the two of you grew closer as friends, you and Legolas would watch the stars and stargaze when you were both on night watch, talking about the stars and their constellations, along with some stories from your lives

🏹 After walking for a good hour, you found yourself getting terribly bored, wanting to stimulate your brain in some way, you began to collect flowers while walking, humming as you began to intertwine the stems together; making a flower crown out of wildflowers

🏹 After making the first flower crown, you made another, placing the first on your head before rushing up to toss the second flower crown on Legolas's head; Legolas loved the crown, his cheeks red as you admired how the bright yellow and blue flowers brought you his hair and eyes

🏹 As the feelings for each other began to grow, you and Legolas both confessed to each other once you both found yourselves in Lothlórien

🏹 Legolas became pretty protective of you, reminding you of your younger sister, making sure that you were alright after every orc attack, which you found adorable and sweet

🏹 You and Legolas were the perfect match, bringing out the best in each other as well as loving every single moment you both spent with one another; life was idyllic and wonderful, and you couldn't wait for the future

[skiasurveys]

survey by xalikattx

FOOD

What is your favorite salad dressing?

Italian or Caesar idk it depends on the salad

Favorite sit-down restaurant?

Earls

Favorite pizza topping?

Chicken, mushrooms, peppers and onions

What food could you eat for two weeks straight and not get sick of it?

Bananas or peanut butter i feel

What do you put on your toast?

Peanut butter or jam

What food do you eat the most?

Maybe eggs

Do you like food?

Yes.

Do you LOVE food?

yes, i really do. its the only joy i feel LMAO.

Do you even eat at all?

…??

What do you put on your ice cream?

it depends. sometimes nothing, sometimes sprinkles and and choc sauce

Do you like steak?

omg yes

Or are you a vegetarian?

Nah

How about a vegan?

^

What food do you hate the most?

the only food I rly hate is spaghetti lol

TECHNOLOGY

How many TVs are in your house?

five

Do they all work?

yes

Do you have Comcast digital cable?

idk what that is lol

AT&T Uverse?

don't have that here

Dish Network?

No.

Something else?

Obviously. <-- same

What’s your favorite show?

breaking bad, this is us, and right now The Last of Us! I also like His Dark Materials.

What’s the worst show?

who knows, theres so many and I dont watch much tv or shows in general unless its something i see that has huge hype

What color cell phone do you have?

black

What kind?

iPhone 11 Pro Max

What does the first text message in your inbox say and who sent it?

im WAY too lazy to check

What was the last text you sent and who did you send it to?

"HELP" and to Krystal.

Who was the last person to call you?

My mom.

Who was the last person you called?

i think mom

CURRENTLY

Are you missing someone?

always

What are you listening to?

youtube video

Watching?

youtube video about 4chan lmfao

Worrying about?

nothing atm..

Where are you?

my bedroom

What’s it like there?

calm

How are you feeling?

sleepy

Is anyone with you? Who?

just my cat <3

Are you hungry?

nah

What do you want to eat?

Nothing atm, im pretty full.

Thirsty?

nah.

What do you want to drink?

Nothing atm.

What time is it?

9:37 PM

LASTS

Thing you ate?

a cinnamon roll

Thing you drank?

diet coke

Thing you said?

i dont remember hahah

Movie you watched?

i was watching we are heroes or something its caled

Store you went to? What did you buy?

Grocery store

Person you talked to?

my mom and sister

Person you hugged?

no idea

Kissed?

davis

Yelled at?

No idea, maybe my cat haha

Book you read?

The Stolen Heir by Holly Black

Thing you touched?

my cat

Person you became friends with on Facebook/Myspace/whatever other site?

i dont really remember, I think Melissa.

RANDOM

Are a righty or a lefty?

Righty.

Have you ever had anything removed from your body?

a tooth

What is the last heavy object you lifted?

my desk

Have any scars?

yes

How did you get them? Any interesting stories?

I got hit by a car, some are from self harm, and my cat.

if it were possible, would you want to know the day you’re going to die?

No

If you could change your name, what would you change it to?

sky or lucy

Would you drink an entire bottle of hot sauce for $1000?

maybe

How about 10 bottles of ketchup?

maybe idk

10 bottles of maple syrup?

no

A bottle of vinegar?

i would rather die.

10 jars of peanutbutter?

sure

How many pairs of flip flops do you own?

none

Favorite month?

september

Do you always answer your phone?

not always

It’s four AM and you get a text message, who is it?

probably Krystal

If you could change your eye color what would it be?

I wouldnt

Do you own a digital camera?

yes i do

Do you take lots of pictures of yourself?

I do but just for fun

Do you take them in front of the mirror in the bathroom?

sometimes

Have you ever had a pet fish?

I had some when I was young

Pet hamster?

when I was a kid

Bird?

no

Favorite Christmas movie?

I dont really have one

Favorite Christmas song?

christmas shoes

Can you do push ups?

like 2 hahahah

Can you do a chin up?

No I wish

Does the future make you nervous or excited?

Both.

Ever been in a car accident?

I got hit by a car

Do you have an accent?

canadian one I guess

What song always makes you cry?

somebody to love by queen

Have any plans for tonight?

Nah, maybe Ill game

What were you doing at 12 AM last night?

trying to sleep

What was the first thing you thought of when you woke up?

school

[lionews]

Anyone that puts ketchup or syrup on eggs deserves prison time. Hot dogs should be made with ketchup, mustard, relish, or any combination of those. Chicken nuggets/strips belong with honey mustard. Unseasoned/only-salted fries can be paired with anything you want. And hot take but if you dip anything in hot sauce, prison time for you too. It's an ingredient. It goes in things. Put it in the recipe all you want (tacos for example) but quit DIPPING things in it 💔

Youre not gonna like this friend 😂

-I put sugar free syrup on my eggs and turkey sausages IF theyre paired with waffles/pancakes/french toast. If no theyre seasonal with garlic salt and pepper.

-I use the regular condiments on a hot dog, but I prefer chili. I dont eat regular hot dogs though. Cant have pork! So i use turkey or chicken.

-I eat regular salted fried with ketchup preferably, but i use icecream as a dip when im in the mood for it. Ranch sometimes too.

-I only eat chicken nuggets with ranch. Only ranch.

-I hate buffalo sauce

-I hate hot sauce

-I dont use your regular yellow mustard on my burgers. Sugar free ketchup and stone ground mustard. If i dont want those its either chili or bacon jam/jelly. Ik it sounds weird but I promise its so good. On a grilled cheese too.

.

[basketballandtextbooks]

Well, besides "sexual predator Kenny" that seems to plague every ship involving him, I think one fanon K/2 trend that annoys me is that Kenny seems to lose braincells when he's written next to Kyle. (Honestly, that happens often with other characters too cause KYLE SMART) I don't mind the idea of Kyle helping Kenny study, but why is Kenny almost always "FUCK BOOKS"? He's shown often reading stuff, that aren't pornos. And knows trivia that isn't always sexual. Let them exchange intelligence.

e x a c t l y

kenny might not be particularly book smart (although there is evidence to suggest that he is book smart) but there are different types of intelligence out there

this is honestly soured me on a lot of kenny ships ngl. and kyle ships. just the insistence of overplaying troped/cliched character traits that completely disregard any and all character depth or development either of them have had.

it really almost soured me to k2, i really enjoyed their interactions in canon but when i checked the fandom it was just... kenny is extremely dumb, perverted, and predatory. Kyle is extremely nerdy, weak, meek, and needs protection. it was such a bizarre bastardization of everything they are.

i ran into a minority of fans who draw/write kyle with an actual personality and kenny with any personality that remotely resembles his canon counterpart and it sold me on the ship. if i hadn’t found the fandom that actually cared about their personalities within canon I probably would have just dropped the ship pretty fast. so i guess a delayed thank you to those fans lol

i’ve been struggling with bunny a lot lately because despite enjoying the ship, i have yet to find quality fandom for them that isn’t super fanon and that’s just.. not my thing, thanks.

honestly i can be sold on almost any ship if the writing / art / meta isn’t just cringe levels of fanon bullshit. if you like fanon, I’m honestly happy for you, you get to enjoy a lot more fandom than I do. but I really really dont enjoy it.

[jangofctts]

The Slow Regard of Silent Things (mainly Thorin x (fem) Reader)

Rated: mature (no smut yet)  

Word Count: 4kish   

Warnings: none yet save for mature language, grumpy dwarves, an irritated Bilbo?? idk lmk if I miss anything for this first chapter kjkrjewh 

Summary: Tired of your life in the Shire, you seize the chance to follow the strange company of dwarves that arrive upon your doorstep to Erebor. Adventure, love, and danger are all wrapped together in this strange tale that you must navigate and untangle on your own. Good luck...

a/n: wow first time in a while that ive posted a fic here huh. this is gonna be a rewrite of the hobbit movies and I dont have a sEt pairing in mind yet it’s mostly gonna center around Thorin. WeLL enjoy wejhrkwejhr

Like any day, it begins the same as it always would in the Shire—awaking to the gentle morning light that floods through the white, woven curtains and the faint swooning of mourning doves lofted in the leaves. It is always paired with the fragrant blend of assorted teas that Bilbo took great care in amassing over the years and the bewitching smell of toast and juneberry jam. 

Mornings are always perfect at Bag End.

However, every strange day needs to have its dreary beginnings. It’s just rather unfortunate yours began with needing to arise well before the sun, a measly breakfast of lukewarm coffee, honey cakes, and a promised set of hands to help in the fields. Now, don’t be mistaken—you truly had no business plowing and seeding Master Brandybuck’s fields—not with your high social standing, no. Just a not so very selfless act of kindness in order to shirk your own responsibilities and your cousin’s pestilential nagging about Valar knows what. Doilies or maybe the cracked spine of a book you opened a little too far—you haven’t a clue. 

All that you do know is that there’s nothing like a hard days work to put your frustrations into and praying your karma won’t catch up to you. You only wish you had taken up on the Brandybuck’s offer to shuttle you back home because fuck—your entire back is a mess of knots. Your legs are a battleground of mud and bruises, and your skin is flushed from the harsh hours beneath the sun. You doubt you’ll be able to roll out of bed tomorrow.

Oh well—        

You’re nearly home anyway; accompanied by the chants of the cattails bowing to the sweet spring breeze along the edge of the Water and the cacophony of crickets and frogs chiming in with their constant hum. Only in the past fortnight or so had they emerged to sing, shaking off the frost and frigid rain from delicate limbs, heralding the oncoming sweetness of summer. 

You wish it would come sooner.  

Inhaling the crisp air laden with rain and the fleeing storm clouds, you hardly feel the chill of the patterned limestone underfoot, shining wet beneath the moon after the evening showers. Cold mud sticks to your feet like a second skin and Eru save you—Bilbo is going to have your head for making a mess out of the carpet for nearly the third time this week. You puff up your cheeks and release a long stream of air—such a worrywart that one. Not as much fun as he used to be. 

Granted, Bilbo does have about twenty or some years senior to yourself in age, but you can still recall a time when he’d readily agree to go in search of fairies and elves with you in the East Farthing Woods or play Orcs and Men till sunset. Hell—you still have the wooden sword he gifted to you on his thirtieth birthday (despite the uproar from your relatives all tittering and tripping over themselves, rushing to explain that a sword was no suitable gift for a young lady such as yourself). You scoff at the memory. They never did manage to separate you from the wooden blade, lest they desired a sharp whack to the leg and a handful of splinters.

You sigh—as much as you yearned for the simpler days of your youth, life has a tricky way of seeping through the cracks and twisting the golden threads of the past into dreary reality. Sure, as much as you scorn your cousin Bilbo’s inability to let go of all that tightly wound mess of anxiety and propriety—you’re mostly to blame for it. An unexpected burden shipped off to his parents, and after their untimely deaths, the role of caretaker rested solely on him. 

You sigh a second time, shake off the slender tendrils of guilt that weave up your spine, and shift the woven basket you hold into your left hand. A collection of jams, preserves, goat milk and cheeses you’ve acquired as payment for help in the fields. Again, exactly an ideal way to pass the time but heaps better than attending that dreadful tea party Lobelia Sackville-Baggins had been pestering you about for ages. Eru save you—you’d suffer one thousand blisters and scalding sunburns before you’d ever agree to spend an entire afternoon with the woman. Manners be damned—Bilbo will be irked upon hearing the news of your absence on the morrow but with the gifts you bring, you hope it’ll ease some of those ruffled feathers. 

Sadly, those gifts never did get delivered to your beloved cousin—

Upon arriving to the gate of Bag End, your delicate ears are greeted with the uproar of overly rambunctious dinner guests. You wince at the muffled shattering of a plate and the shadowy figures passing by the stained glass windows. Not an uncommon thing to witness in the Shire, but from your own cousin? At this hour? In the middle of April? Now that is a truly concerning thought to process. 

The worst comes to mind—thieves, vagabonds, Sackville-Baggins—all the horrors a simple Hobbit could conjure within a second it takes to draw a breath. With a newfound fire beneath your feet and not much forethought, you throw open the gate and scramble up the steps. Your big toe jams into the uneven stone due to your hastiness, you curse. Oh, stars above—you knew you should’ve been home earlier!   

Armed and ready to throw a fresh wad of gorgonzola at the nearest attacker in defense of your cousin, you charge through the front door and find a litany of…dwarves. 

It’s a downright mess—a dozen of them at least, pilfering the pantry with a jovial buzz as they swipe anything remotely resembling a chair to squeeze into the dinning room. Too dumbfounded to do anything but stare—your basket full of goods is snatched up by a floppy hatted dwarf. The fiend escapes with a devilish wink and a tip of his hat. Your mouth open and closes, tongue-tied and rushing to find a foothold to conquer your shock. The only words you manage is a pathetic, high pitched; “Hey!” 

You step after the dwarf in hopes of reclaiming your basket, but just as you do, the cheese you still hold in the other hand is plucked from your fingers and carried off. Vultures. “That’s mine!” 

All your protests are ignored and swept under the rug, lost in a sea of wild hair, unfamiliar accents, and strange clothes. You just about lose hope of finding a way out of the mass of bodies and accepting your fate as a secondary doormat when a warm hand clamps down around your wrist and yanks you into the safety of the library.              

“Where on earth have you been!”

Bilbo—

His round cheeks are alight with an irritated flush, hair mussed up from his restless hands running through it in attempt to self sooth instead of imploding. His fingers fidget with his suspenders, smoothing out nonexistent twists as he awaits your answer with the most harrowing glare he can muster. Which is, to put it plainly, as terrifying as a wee lamb dressed in a bowtie. “I’ve been worried sick all day! And don’t even get me started on this—these—these vagrants—”

Your frazzled nerves from first entering your home dim to a subtle thrum of curiosity for your surprise guests. You open your mouth to respond to Bilbo’s inquiry but your cousin has already pushed past you to peek around the corner of the wall. A younger dwarf with a mane of golden hair saunters past the library with Bilbo’s fine china stacked up to a height of well beyond reckless—Bilbo whines out a string of complaints.       

“I was helping Master Brandybuck with the fields—“ you explain, tracking your flustered cousin as he watches helplessly from afar. He groans as another dish shatters. “Bilbo, what is going on?”

“Ransacking our stores!” He cries. “I just picked those tomatoes today—they were perfectly ripe—“

Bilbo flits to the other side of the room, throws open the door and squawks in fear. “No, no no!” He shrieks. “Not my maps!”

You peak over his shoulder, witnessing the dwarf swaddled in knitted clothing commit this heinous crime of thumbing through Bilbo’s prized collection. Poor lad—he looks sweet. You stifle your giggle as your cousin barks your name, his face a wash of desperation and equal parts bewildered. “Help? Please?”

“What would you have me do, Bilbo?” You say incredulously. “Chase them off with a hot poker stick?” 

Bilbo’s lips purse, considers it, then waves his hand in dismissal. “Yes? No—no. Just-just make sure they don’t brake anything else!”

Bilbo swiftly exits the safety of the study, intent on salvaging anything he can. “And mind the door—don’t let anything else wander in!”

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose…here’s to an even longer night. 

^*^*^*^

Unlike your cousin, you quite enjoy your present company. Never had you seen such a merry bunch with a fierce distaste for table manners and a bottomless appetite that could rival a Hobbit’s. A vast change in pace from the civil proprieties the Shire encompasses—damn near stifling, if you’re being honest.

Your pinafore is stained with smatterings of airborne tomatoes and Eru knows what else—a sight to behold that would surely cause your own mother to roll in her grave. You’re exhausted, your feet hurt, and you hair is a mess—the thick curls tumbling out of the measly ribbon you’ve tied it back with. And yet…it’s the most fun you’ve had in years.  

A half eaten carrot grazes past you ear—you narrowly avoid it by sidestepping into the parlor. Taking a deep breath, you lean against the wall and fight back your fatigue. At this point in time the dwarves have calmed and moved about to infest other parts of the house, much to Bilbo’s dismay. His frazzled voice echoes through the halls, calling your name—you grimace. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, stinging from the pipeweed smoke and exertion. When you open them you startle. A young man—dwarf—had wandered into the parlor with you. You blink—he’s handsome…Raven black hair, messily pulled back with a silver clasp, a roughened swath of stubble over his cheeks and chin; paired with dark brows that rest above eyes that sparkle with a boyish gleam. Your heart skips a beat or two as his lips draw into a roughish smile.        

“Are you Master Boggins’s wife, then?”     

 Boggins?  

You bite the insides of your cheek to suppress your snicker. “Are you suggesting I’d marry my own cousin, Master Dwarf?”

His smile falters, brows shooting up to his hairline. “N-no. Forgive me, I didn’t—“

Waving away his attempts of apology, you crack a smile. “I’m only teasing—you didn’t know.”  

An embarrassed flush stains the apples of his cheeks and the tips of his abnormally large ears that poke out from his unruly hair. He smiles again. “Aye—I deserve your scorn, lass. Shouldn’t have stuck me nose in a fair maiden's business.” 

“You do it often, I presume.” You say, continuing to prod the poor dwarf. A nagging voice scolds you for speaking so freely to a stranger—a guest no less—but your ability to stop yourself from jumping headfirst into situations like these is zero to none. “Barging in and making a mess of their home?” 

This time he meets your humor leg for leg, brushing off the remaining embarrassment with another handsome grin. “Only if they are of exquisite beauty.” He wanders further into the room and extends his hand. “Will you honor me with your name, fair maiden?”

His flirtations earn him a laugh as you slide your fingers into his. They’re pleasantly calloused. “My friends call me Cricket.” 

He cradles your hand, folds at the waist into a dramatic bow that has the lapels of his overcoat brushing the floor, then shoots back up to his full height. A whole head taller than you. “A lovely name.”

You roll your eyes as the dwarf raises your hand to his mouth. If he’s even the least bit curious about the oddity of your chosen name, he shows no sign of it. Smart boy. 

Your heart flutters as his lips and rough stubble lightly scrape over your knuckles. “And do you have a name, Master Dwarf? Or are you simply here to flirt and then vanish into the night?”

His laugh is airy and bright. He returns your hand to your side. “It’s Kíli.”

“A fitting name for a flirt,” you say with a playful wink and a halfhearted curtsey. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Master Kíli.”

Kíli snorts, meaning to continue the banter, yet just as he opens his mouth to speak, his name is called. “Kíli! Where have you run off to, brother?” 

The owner of said voice pops into the parlor, needing to bow his head to avoid nicking it upon the low arching entryway. Thick tresses of golden hair flow over his wide shoulders, decorated with intricate silver beads and stray plaits. Unlike Kíli, this dwarf sports a fuller beard and a mustache, braided and bound with matching silver beads that frame his peony pink lips. How curious…     

“There you are!” He announces. “I’ve been—oh, hello.” Upon closer inspection of his brother, his eyes slide over Kíli’s shoulder and settle on you.

“Fíli!” Kíli greets. He slaps a hand over his brother’s shoulder to steer him into your little circle of conversation. “This is Master Baggins’—“

“Wife?” Fíli helpfully supplies. 

“Cousin.” Both you and Kíli correct in unison. 

Fíli’s mouth parts in a gentle oh of understanding, cornflower blue eyes indulging in another study of your figure. In no way was it lecherous—no—more so a simple, inquisitive glance. Not many are familiar with Hobbits after all—you’ll allow the lingering gazes. 

The corners of Fíli’s eyes crinkle as his lips pull into a kind smile. Oh Valar—why are they both attractive? “I hope my brother hasn’t bothered you too much, my lady. He’s awfully good at being a pest.” 

Kíli jostles his brother’s shoulder in protest, disputing his words with a disgruntled frown and more pathetic punches. Fíli rolls his eyes, catches Kíli’s entire face in his palm and shoves him away. Kíli stumbles, steadies himself and glares daggers into the back of his brother’s head. You meet the dark haired dwarf’s eye and smirk. “Oh, yes. Quiet a pest—he ate all my tea cakes. I just baked them last night, y’know.”

“Oh, fair maiden—you wound me!” Kíli cries, ignoring the fierce stare his brother sends him. “And here I thought we were friends.” 

“Kíli—“ Fíli hisses, attempting to cuff the younger dwarf over the ear. He avoids it with a laugh and dances to the doorway. Fíli stomps after him and shoos him into the hallway before any more damage can be done. “Go help with the dishes you blockhead.”  

Kíli briefly pops back into sight to send you a wink and a little wave of goodbye. “I’ll be seeing you again, fair maiden!” 

Fíli curses his little brother. He then halts at the archway and spares a moment to face you again. He clears his throat and dips his head in acknowledgment. “Sorry ‘bout him—it, uh, was nice to meet you, my lady.” 

“You as well,” you say, placing your hands on your hips. “However, I’m serious about the tea cakes. I expect reimbursement, Master Dwarf!” 

Fíli dutifully nods and strokes at his mustache between his forefinger and thumb. He flashes you a wide smile. “You have my word, my lady.”

Before you can backpedal and inform him that you were joking, Fíli disappears around the corner in search of his brother. You smile to yourself and shake your head. What an odd pair… 

                                                     ^*^*^*^

This is the worst day of his life, Bilbo concludes. This and the time his dear, beloved cousin released a menagerie of toads, fireflies, and crickets into the house. It took them weeks to completely eradicate the infestation. He shudders at the memory.    

But no—no, this was worse. Flying dishes and reckless galavanting, all in the name of poking fun and pushing Bilbo’s nerves to the very limit. Cricket is no help either—smiling and laughing along with the impromptu signing and merry entertainment. It’s a miracle everything survived—more so that the dwarves thoroughly cleaned and stacked said plates. His bewilderment shows plainly on his face and causes an uproar of laughter to follow. But just as it starts, it fades to a grinding halt.   

Three solemn knocks echo through the house.  

“Here is here,” Gandalf utters in a foreboding tone.  

The company, Cricket and Bilbo wander to the front door. The wizard is the first to open it and with a creak, the circular door reveals yet another dwarf. Refined and filling the space with regal command, he steps into the foyer, greets the wizard and tugs at the clasp of his heavy cloak. “I thought you said this place was easy to find. I lost my way—twice.”

The dwarf hands the heavy swathes of fabric to an overeager Kîli and nods his head in greeting at the others. “I wouldn’t have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door.” 

“Mark?” Bilbo guffaws. He cranes his head to catch a glimpse of the damage, yet the door closes before he can. “There is no mark on that door. It was painted a week ago!” 

Gandalf interjects with a guilty chuckle. “There is a mark—I put it there myself.”

Valar above! He’s going to faint—

There’s no time for that, unfortunately. Gandalf places his hands over Bilbo’s shoulders and steers him in the direction of the newcomer. “Bilbo Baggins—allow me to introduce the leader of our company—Thorin Oakenshield.” 

Thorin turns slowly, looking upon Bilbo with little care. “So…this is the Hobbit.”

His manner takes Bilbo aback. Just in the brief span of seconds and the limited words exchanged—Bilbo is made well aware that he is being belittled. He scrunches his nose and adjusts his suspenders. Bilbo can’t say that he’s met any sort of royalty or nobility in his simple life, but if he were to guess, this dwarf is cut from the same cloth.  

“Tell me Master Baggins,” Thorin continues, looking down his sharp nose at Bilbo. “Have you done much fighting?” 

“Pardon?” Bilbo sputters. 

Thorin crosses his arms over his broad chest. “Axe or sword? What’s your weapon of choice?”

“Well,” Bilbo musters, “I do have some skill at conkers, if you must know—but I fail to see why that’s relevant…” 

“Thought as much. He looks more like a grocer than a burglar.”

Snickers follow Thorin’s insult. Bilbo bites his tongue, cutting off the sharp retort that even Cricket would find acidic. Uncontested, the dwarf lord’s attention shifts to Bilbo’s cousin.      

“And what of you?” He sighs as his eyes lazily skim over Cricket. “The grocer’s daughter?” 

“No,” Cricket huffs. The girl straightens her spine and brushes her hands down the sides of her pinafore. A crooked smile spreads over her lips. “That would be Marigold Proudfoot—lives about four doors down. Though, I can’t say she or her husband are very fond of dwarves. Not at this hour at least.”

Thorin lifts a dark brow at her cheek. 

“Ah,” Gandalf interjects with a fond smile. He lays a withered hand over Cricket’s shoulder and gives the girl a friendly pat. “Thorin—this here is Cricket. Our other dear host for the evening.” 

Bilbo is not fond of the way Thorin’s scrutinizing gaze studies her for a second time. 

“Strange lands make for stranger names, it would seem,” Thorin haughtily comments. Cricket’s face twists with unruly ire. 

Bilbo’s heart leaps between his teeth—now is not the time for a barbed insult catapulted back to someone of such noble stature. The same someone who has thirteen dwarves, all wielding some sort of weaponry, pledging fealty to him and who would not so much as blink before turning Cricket into a lovely, little meat skewer. Bilbo clutches at his suspenders and pulls them away from his chest as another spell of dizziness washes over him. He doesn’t fancy the imagery—not in the slightest. 

This wouldn’t be the first time Cricket’s whip tongue would land her into trouble—far from it in fact. Yet none of those instances placed her in actual danger—just threatened her reputation that Bilbo had tried so hard to carefully curate. Maybe a cuff around the ear at the very worst—not like either of those did any good. She cares more for the mud ingrained in her nail beds than the social intricacies of the Shire. A lost cause, as most would put it. 

But here, right in this moment, the both of them are offered a very real slice of what lies beyond the boarders of the Shire. A far more sinister country with little law and goodwill—a world that would not hesitate to tear through flesh and bone with the wicked teeth of harsh reality. Cricket seems to recognize this as well. The muscles in her jaw bunch from the force of keeping it shut, displaying a very rare case of mulling over her words before they spew forth in a jet of shrapnel and flame. Her eyes are ablaze, unflinching at the equally harrowing stare Thorin throws back at her. 

The tension in the room is palpable—thick enough to cut through with a knife. Bilbo and the company of dwarves shift with strained energy, unsure if the pair would crack and crumble away from the weight or dissolve into fisticuffs. Knowing his cousin, it’s likely the latter. 

A communal sigh of relief is shared as Thorin’s shoulders lift with an impartial huff. He turns away and follows his brethren to the promise of food. 

“What a pompous oaf,” Cricket mutters under her breath. 

Gandalf clicks his tongue in disapproval yet Bilbo can’t help but wholeheartedly agree. 

A pompous oaf indeed!

                                                    ^*^*^*^

It was funny at first—watching your cousin flounder and scrabble for the high standing foothold he always manages to keep. Knocked down a couple pegs from snobbish and the air of higher society Bilbo exudes. Yet when those same ridiculing attentions focused on yourself, your opinion quickly morphed. Handsome dwarf lord or no, it gives Thorin no excuse to be downright rude.   

Your irritation never quelled, only grew alongside curiosity when the company once again gathered in your dining room. Smoke from pipeweed hangs in the air, disturbed by the passionate squabbling and animated movements. They were going on a quest you and Bilbo learned—to take back the Lonely Mountain and slay a dragon. Seems a bit foolish, you think—how were they to kill it now if they weren’t able to accomplish the task back then? Hidden passages or no, simply getting to the mountain will prove difficult enough. 

Even so, excitement brews within your chest. You are a dreamer at heart, always yearning for something bigger than you. An adventure filled with danger, the wild, and everything wedged in between. The Shire is your home, always will be, but the deep thrum of your soul urges you to step beyond the boarders of the Shire and find your true place in the world. A well overdue holiday, free from the iron chains of an unforgiving community and gossiping mouths. 

“That’s why we need a burglar,” Ori states proudly. You snap to attention as Bilbo hums in agreement. 

“And a good one too. An expert, I’d imagine.”

The dwarves stare at your cousin with expecting eyes. “And are you?”

“Am I what?” Bilbo asks, sharing a look of confusion with you. You haven’t the foggiest. 

Oín slaps the table with glee. “He said he’s an expert!”

Bilbo stammers and rushes to smooth over the confusion. “No, no no. I’m not a burglar. I’ve never stolen a thing in my life!” 

It’s true. Bilbo would rather die than take on the title of something that would suggest his character to be less than unimpeachable. 

“I’m afraid I have to agree with Master Baggins. He’s hardly burglar material.” Balin sighs, tucking his bearded chin into his chest. The group descends into another fierce bout of arguing. Bilbo tries to quiet them, but your cousin’s attempts result in nothing.    

The small space suddenly darkens as Gandalf stands, slightly hunched from the low ceiling. It would look ridiculous if it were anyone else. “Enough! If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is!” The wizard bellows. 

The outburst stuns the dwarves into complacency. Warmth and the low glow of the candles return to the room once Gandalf settles back into his seat. He spares a kind glance to yourself and Bilbo and then addresses the room. “Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most, if they choose. And, while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of Dwarf... ...the scent of a Hobbit is all but unknown to him, which gives us a distinct advantage.” 

“You asked me to find the fourteenth member of this company and I have done so. There's a lot more to Hobbits than appearances suggest. And he's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know. You must trust me on this.”         

Silence blankets the room and a sudden, ringing thought clouds your mind. It’s a fat chance that Bilbo would agree to galavanting around the world with a bunch of dwarves. You one the other hand…

“I’ll do it. I can be your burglar.”

Well—at least no one burst out laughing. Though now that you think about it—laughing is far better than the silence you’ve curated. Yikes… 

“I’m good with maps,” you state, squaring your shoulders in hopes it would dispel some of your nerves, “and I know how to handle a bow—I’m no good with a sword but—but I’m a quick study, I swear it.” 

There’s a sea of varying opinions and hushed mutterings expressed on the faces of the dwarves as you attempt to carve out a feasible argument for yourself. You desperately look to Bilbo and then to Gandalf, but neither are of any help. The wizard quirks a bushy gray brow, puffs on his pipe and expels a tendril of wispy smoke in the shape of a ring. Your cousin on the other hand, looks about ready to keel over and faint. Typical.   

You plant your hands over your hips and huff. “You need a burglar, don’t you?”

“Well, yes—“ The white haired dwarf, Balin, begins. “But—“

“But what?” You challenge with a harsh stare. “If my cousin declines your contract, you’re left with nothing.” 

Another bout of muttering ensues. 

“The wild is no place for gentlefolk who can neither fight or fend for themselves,” The one called Dwalin rumbles, “Especially no’ for wee hobbit lassies. S’no place at all.”   

“I believe I can manage just fine, Master Dwarf,” you snip. “Unless you have some privy knowledge to my personal upbringing that would suggest otherwise, I would recommend shutting your mouth before you find it stuffed with your own boot.”    

Bilbo sharply states your name in reprimand but the damage is already done. 

A fierce blush floods Dwalin’s cheeks and spreads all the way up to his ears—harsh snorts and jeering snickers follow, rapidly morphing into roaring laughter. The stocky warrior is left scrambling for words to retaliate, defend his pride, but finds none. Instead he mutters under his breath and folds his arms over his chest, sinking into the furs of his cloak in an attempt to disappear.      

“Oh, aye!” Bofur hoots, merriment sparkling in his eyes. “Let’s sick ‘er on the dragon! One word from that whip tongue o’ hers and old Smaug will go runnin’ with his tail between his legs.”

You bite your lip to stop a goofy grin from spreading across your face. Bofur returns the stem of his pipe to his mouth, inhales, and sends you a knowing wink. Before any of the other dwarves could cast their two cents in upon the matter, Thorin raises his hand from the table. The room quiets. 

The king’s head languidly tilts up to meet your eye. Whether he found your jab at Dwalin amusing or no—you haven’t a clue. His somber facade is difficult to read and while you aren’t frightened of him, the way he carries himself is unnerving at best. Thorin is the sort best admired from a distance and not right here, seated at your dining room table. 

“The road is long and the journey hard,” Thorin sighs. “I do not wish to burden this quest with death or injury that could be preventable—especially to those who have known no battle or hardship.”

He pauses. 

Hope flickers within your chest.

“The wizard speaks highly of your kind—“ Thorin’s eyes briefly flicker to Gandalf. “And an extra set of hands—warrior or no—could prove to be useful.” 

The group whispers amongst themselves. 

“Give her a contract.”              

[quindolyn]

hi can i request the maurauders going to see the reader do a musical like heathers or mean girls and they are just confused and turned on bc they didn't expect it to be this dirty (can lead to smut or not). luv you and hope you are taking care of yourself, if not go get something to eat, drink some water, take a nap, or do somthing you enjoy. or dont not trying to be pushy :)

Creature of the Night || Poly!Marauders

Word Count: 3029 (excluding song lyrics)

A/N: I think I liked how this turned out? I didn’t make it smut but it’s certainly suggestive, I went with Rocky Horror, I know that the musicals mentioned in the request are more modern but I fucking love Rocky Horror and I think it works with the request. When I first read this request I smiled so much because I love live theater, I don’t perform as much as I used to because as I progress with my education I’m focusing more on the stuff I can use to pad my resumes for college and stuff but I still love going to see productions. One of the worst parts of the pandemic for me has been not being able to go see shows, I miss it so much.

Warnings: theatre enthusiast reader, erections, suggestive material, song lyrics, slight teasing, wearing very little clothing in front of an audience, I believe that that is it

Masterlist

500 follower celebration

antici-

The magic of the stage was second to none. Sure, Hogwarts may have had witches and wizards, subjects like Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts, and ghosts that spent their time meandering about the halls but there was always a part of you that looked forward to the summer between your years at Hogwarts. Because no matter how magical Hogwarts was, the theater always made you feel completely and utterly alive. 

Every summer since the one after your first year at what all of your muggle friends thought to be a very prestigious boarding school up in Scotland, you’d taken part in your local youth theater’s productions. Your parents both being muggles thought that it would be a great way for you to be able to stay in touch with your muggle origins. 

The first year you’d been far too nervous to actually audition for a role, the very thought causing bile to churn in your stomach and threaten to make you sick all over your kitchen floor when your father first pitched the idea. So instead you’d done costumes and it was the most wonderful experience of your life. 

Who needed drugs when you had live theater? The hustle and bustle behind the scenes was electrifying but after two summers of costuming, of quick changes in the wings, learning how to use the ancient sewing machines they stored in the depths of the storage rooms, and pulling pieces for the actors to try on you decided that you wanted to try something more.

The moment you had stepped onto the stage it was like you’d come to life and you cursed yourself for not taking the risk earlier. You belonged on the stage, with the harsh stage lights on you and pounds of makeup plastered onto your face you could feel the magic thrumming through your veins and it was addicting.

If it was possible, you were even more excited to perform this summer, the previous school year you’d finally gotten together with your long time best friends the Marauders, turning them from friends to your boyfriends.

When your mother had sent word of the production being put on this summer you’d squealed while seated next to James and across from Remus, who had Sirius hanging off of his side. After explaining to them, mostly Sirius and James really, just what live theater was their first reaction was to ask if they could come see you perform.

“I don’t even know if I’m going to be cast,” You had explained gently, not wanting to get their hopes up in case you weren’t cast this year.

“Bull shit of course you’re going to be the cast,” Sirius had contested through a mouthful of jam and toast, waving his hand theatrically through the air, watching him that day was not the first time you’d considered how the way he acted often reminded you of an over enthusiastic theatre major.

Remus, the only one with any knowledge on muggle theatre had snorted, wrapping an arm around Sirius’ waist to pull him closer to his body, “She’s not going to be the cast Pads, she’s going to be casted,” He’d corrected gently, pressing a kiss into his long, dark tresses.

“Whatever,” The smaller boy had grumbled, taking a sip of pumpkin juice.

Which brought you to where you were right now, five minutes to curtain touching up your make up in the mirror of the shared make-up room.

“Hey (L/N),” One of your cast mates called settling into the makeup chair next to you as she plucked a tube of dark red lipstick from the small canary colored makeup bag she had previously abandoned on the counter, “Your boyfriends coming tonight?” She asked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“Yeah, they are,” You responded, applying mascara to your lashes.

“Excited to meet them, that photo you showed us,” She smiled, fanning her face with her hand, “Smoking,” She smiled, making eye contact with you in the mirror.

Rolling your eyes you ignored her comment, “It’s five minutes to curtain, you’re just now doing your make-up?” You chuckled, noticing her black face.

“Oh, shove it,” She laughed as you pushed yourself from your chair, traipsing out of the room, giving her the middle finger on your way out.

“Break a leg!” She called after you as the door latched shut.

You weren’t usually this nervous before a performance but knowing that your three boyfriends were sitting out there somewhere in the audience had you pacing back and forth backstage wondering what they were going to think of the whole production.

“Rocky Horror?” Sirius’ confusion evident in his voice as he plopped down in his seat next to Remus, throwing his arm around the werewolf’s shoulders, drumming his fingers on his clothed shoulder hidden behind his knitted cardigan.

“Yeah,” James collapsed into his chair on the other side of Remus, tucking one leg under his body, “No clue what it’s about but I’m sure our angel will be wonderful. Can you guys see her?” He straightened himself up in his seat, craning his neck in attempts to catch a glimpse of you.

Remus being the only one with any ties to the muggle world knew a bit about the show and had to do his very best to suppress a smirk from overtaking his face as he knew exactly what he and your other two boyfriends were getting themselves into. 

“Just hush up you two, the show’s gonna start any moment,” He scolded, patting his large, scarred hand on James’ thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Rem,” Sirius whined, puckering his lips and closing his eyes, signaling to his boyfriend that he wanted a kiss.

“My needy baby,” He crooned, leaning in to connect his lips with Sirius’ in a quick liplock before pulling back, allowing Sirius to drop his forehead to smear against his shoulder.

“That’s mean,” Sirius murmured discontentedly.

“Poor baby Pads,” James cooed mockingly.

“Both of you,” Remus hissed as the lights in the theatre dimmed, “The show’s about to start, be good for me and be quiet yeah?”

Their response came in their silence as the crowd started settling down and the music from the orchestra pit began a voice coming from somewhere out of sight as it was played through the speakers,

“Michael Rennie was ill

The day the earth stood still

But he told us where we stand”

Not 20 minutes into the show all three of them were as hard as rocks, James had already made Remus check the playbill for the name of the character you were playing, not being able to remember what you’d told them as all of his concentration was focused on a certain place.

Janet Weiss.

Remus couldn’t remember either, but he was almost certain that’s the name he could make out in the dark theatre, printed next to a picture of your smiling face.

When you’d stripped down to your underwear the boys could barely focus on the plot line of the show, only being able to watch the way your bare skin shone under the harsh light of the spotlights. Watching as sweat glistened on your skin, making you shine as you moved about the stage. 

Enchanted by the melodic cadence of your voice they all felt a certain jealousy burning deep in the pits on their stomachs at the thought that there were dozens of other people packed into that theater, all observing you in your vulnerable state of under dress. Only they got to see you like that.

Sirius missed much of the first act glaring at members of the audience who he deemed as looking at you for too long for his liking, but if you were being honest a 4th year smiling at you in the hallway was sometimes too long for his liking.

It wasn’t like any of them had never seen you naked before, in fact they’d all seen you naked more than their fair share of times but something about you on that stage in a white bra with a matching slip was driving them all crazy.

Especially Remus, whose ultimate weakness was seeing you in anything white which was one of the reasons you’d been so excited to invite them in the first place, knowing that they would be horny messes the entire time.

On stage you did your very best not to look out into the audience looking for them, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to stop a ginormous grin from forming on your face and you couldn’t afford to break character. Not if you wanted the night to go your way.

As the opening notes to “Touch-A, Touch-A, Touch Me”, rose from the orchestra pit you had trouble stopping a small smirk from pulling at your lips as you opened them, inhaling deeply before singing the first words of the song,

“I was feeling done in, couldn't win

I'd only ever kissed before”

Despite yourself you caught a glimpse of long dark hair in the audience, quickly taking a glance at Sirius’ face, eyes glazed over in lust, legs shifting uncomfortably with his mouth hanging wide open. 

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed another raven-haired boy’s mouth dropping as you shrugged off of your robe

“I thought there’s no use getting, into heavy petting

It only leads to trouble and, seat wetting

Now all I want to know, is how to go

I've tasted blood and I want more”

It was impossible to miss the way Remus’ jaw clenched as you laid your palm against Rocky’s chest, he was being played by your good friends who’d been working with the same theatre company as you since forever, he was like a brother to you. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t lay it on extra thick tonight with your boyfriends in the audience.

Tracing a dainty finger down Rocky’s chest you pushed your body against his singing out the next lyrics of the song,

“I've got an itch to scratch, I need assistance”

You turned you and your cast mate so that looking over his shoulder you were able to meet Remus’ eye, sending him a quick wink before focusing back in on Rocky.

“Toucha, toucha, toucha, touch me

I wanna be dirty

Thrill me, chill me, fulfill me

Creature of the night”

Pressing your back up against Rocky’s chest you guided his hands with yours to your breasts, squeezing them as you followed the choreography you knew by heart.

You ripped your slip from your body with the help of Rocky leaving you in only your white bra, matching panties and a pair of small heels as you paraded around stage, belting the suggestive lyrics into the theater.

“Then if anything grows, while you pose

I'll oil you up and rub you down (down, down, down)

And that’s just one small fraction, of the main attraction

You need a friendly hand, oh i need action”

You smirked, thinking about all of the action you’d be on the receiving end of later that night as you sunk to your knees in front of Rocky, your hands grasping his thighs. Deciding to tease them perhaps a little more than necessary as you went through the number, curling your leg around his and pressing your bodies together so that there was no space between your two questionably clothed bodies.

As the number was brought to a close it was impossible for you to ignore the excitement bubbling up inside of you as you continued your way through the show you kept throwing glances at your boyfriends, always finding their eyes already trained on you. More often than not, on some body part other than your face.

If your boyfriends thought that they had a bit of a problem before that song they were in a terrible predicament now.

Remus caught Sirius on multiple occasions trying to move the hand that he was holding to grope at his crotch as he tried to buck up into his boyfriend’s hand. And much to his own dismay, Remus would pull his hand away, thinking it probably wasn’t the best idea to give his boyfriend a hand job in a crowded theater. Knowing that he wouldn’t have to worry about James touching himself because he would never dream of disobeying him, Remus divided his attention between you on the stage and keeping Sirius in check.

Each of the boys were counting down the seconds until the show came to an end and they could get out of there and relieve some of their tension.  As the curtains were pulled closed they all breathed a sigh of relief before they reopened, leaving all three of them bewildered and slightly annoyed, even more so when they noticed everyone around them standing as they applauded the actors.

Remus forced both of them up when you rushed to the front of the stage, curtsying as the crowd went wild, your boyfriends most notably. As you took your bow you blew a kiss to your boyfriends taking note of the uncomfortable way they all stood, trying to adjust their erections to make them less noticeable while simultaneously applauding you.

As you cleared the stage after curtain call you took your time, doddling towards the dressing rooms where you had left the clothes you’d arrived at the theater in along with a special outfit you’d brought for after the show. Usually you were one of the first actors to clear the theater after a show but tonight you took your time. Hanging up your costume with more care than anyone really should treat any garment with and certainly more than what it needed. 

You smirked mischievously as you pulled the you’d brought outfit from your bag and shimmied it up your legs before slipping the delicate straps up your shoulders. You glimpsed yourself in the mirror, the red satin of the dress clinging to your curves in an attractive manner, short enough to display miles of legs and low cut enough to show off a decent amount of cleavage and perhaps a sighting of the matching red bra you were wearing beneath it.

Slinging the back of your black heels over the heel of your feet you snatched your purse from the armchair in your dressing room before striding out to go meet your boyfriends in the lobby, where you’d told them to wait for you.

Their heads all turned as they heard the clacking of your heels against the tile of the floor, “Boys,” You greeted as they unabashedly took in your new appearance.

As he most often was, Remus was the first one to collect himself, “Puppy, you were wonderful,” He praised, walking to meet you as you approached him, leaning down to smear a kiss against your cheek, “You did amazing up there, so proud of you,” He threw his arm around your waist as you walked towards Sirius and James.

“We got something for you,” He explained, his grip on your waist tightening, “Jamie give it to her, yeah?” 

“Oh yeah,” The smaller boy grinned, remembering the bouquet he held cradled in his arms as he handed it over to you, “Here you go angel.”

“Thank you Jamie,” You said as you took it from him, closing your eyes as you buried your nose in the sweet smelling flora. As you opened your eyes you made eye contact with Sirius, who stood across from you, practically drooling as he took in your appearance without any shame, “They smell wonderful.”

“You okay Si?” You asked, looking up through your eyelashes, batting them innocently.

“Like you don’t know exactly what you did up there to us (Y/N/N),” Remus whispered in your ear, pressing his nose into your temple.

“You guys are the ones who wanted to come,” You lilted, rubbing one of the velvety petals between the pads of your thumb and forefinger.

“Could’ve warned us,” James mumbled, his eyes not leaving your thighs as he licked his lips, if it were anyone else you would’ve been uncomfortable but you couldn’t help but feel flattered whenever any of them ogled you. 

“And what’s with the dress Pup?” Sirius nodded his head appreciatively towards your dress, obviously admiring the way it hung on your body.

“What, you don’t like it?” You asked with fake hurt in your voice, knowing that he more than liked it, he fucking loved it. 

“S’not that,” Remus mumbled, nosing at your jugular, “Just that whole show, got us a little bit worked up. We didn’t expect it to be so sexual Puppy,” He nodded towards James and that’s when you noticed the erection he was still sporting. 

“Got us really worked up, can we go home now?” James asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, trying to distract himself from his little problem.

“Jamie,” You whined, smiling wickedly, “I wanted to celebrate, I was thinking we could go eat somewhere, I was thinking maybe Thai food?”

You watched as Sirius ground his teeth, conflicted between needing to get home and not wanting to deny you from what you wanted. 

“Having fun teasing us Bunny?” Remus asked you with a sly smirk, knowing exactly what you were doing.

“M’not teasing,” You insisted, turning indignantly to your other boyfriend.

“Sure you aren’t,” He chuckled, “Thai sounds great (Y/N), wanna talk with you about the show,” The idea of teasing Sirius and James even longer was very appealing to Remus and he was ready to make the sacrifice of being teased himself, knowing that he’d be able to get back at you later that night.

“But-” James began.

“You wanna argue with me Jamie?” Remus challenged, raising a singular eyebrow.

“No,” He moped, “Of course not.”

“Good,” Remus said, nodding his head approvingly, “We wouldn’t wanna deny our Princess would we?”

James shook his head, eyes pleading, desperately seeking Remus’ approval.

“Pads?” Remus challenged, turning his attention to the other raven haired man.

“What? Oh um, of course not,” He agreed distractedly, dragging his eyes from your form to meet Remus’, his reluctance evident in his voice.

“Good,” Remus said pointedly, his eyes cold, daring Sirius to question him. When he didn’t the werewolf continued, “Let’s get going then, there’s a nice little restaurant a couple blocks away yeah?”

As you all hummed your consent you made your way to the exit, “Ten galleons if you can make James cum in his pants at dinner,” Remus whispered in your ear quietly enough so that  James and Sirius trailing behind you wouldn’t be able to hear you, you could hear the smirk in his voice as you exited the theatre.

“Deal.” This was going to be fun, you considered that you might have to invite them to come see the show again.

-pation

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @kittykylax @amourtentiaa @superbturtlemakerathlete

[turtle-steverogers]

i was thinking but do you know the unsent project? it is this website where you can write a message to your first love that you never sent to them. now imagine steve writing one (or multiple) to bucky after he came out of the ice after nat told him about it... yeah

hello hi anon this broke me and it was too perfect not to turn into a ficlet klafjldskjfalskf thank you

-

Unsent Letters

To:

Steve’s fingers freeze over the keyboard, the cursor blinking at him. It feels like it’s taunting him-- teasing him with the burden of choking out a name. What should he even say? The sender is anonymous, but how many people are named Bucky out there? Would anyone even care?

To: Bu

Steve huffs and backspaces, his hands trembling as he curls them into fists. He isn’t sure what provoked Natasha to tell him about this website. It’s a cruel tease to everything he wishes he could say-- wished he could say before Bucky slipped through his fingers. And now his only option is yelling into an abyss. The text box is black and daunting. He turns it yellow. No, too happy. Green. Yes, that’s fine. Bucky’s favorite color was always green.

His gaze wanders away from the screen of his hefty Dell laptop and out the window of his apartment. DC’s low rising buildings span out in front of him. His gut aches; he misses New York already. But he knows being there would only mangle his soul further, seeing his already alien home torn to shreds by literal space whales. He huffs, thinking of Bucky’s comics. His stories came to life after all. Bucky would have probably vibrated out of his skin if he knew there was other life out there.

To: My astronaut

How’s space treating you? It’s treating me pretty badly, if I’m being honest. If only you could see what it’s done to Brooklyn. I think you’d be pretty mad at it if you knew…

Steve hesitates, reading back over what he’s typed. It’s stupid as hell, and he cringes, but he doesn’t backspace. His fingers find the keys again.

I miss you something awful. I don’t think that even encompasses how much I’m hurting without you. I feel so lost right now-- space is much bigger and scarier than you’d think. I know you’d love it. I wish you could see bits of it, but god, I just want to go home. I want you to come home.

Steve freezes again and finds the screen blurry where tears have welled in his eyes. His jaw clenches as he pictures the way Bucky would laugh at him-- teasing him for his dramatics and ruffling his hair. He wishes he could be there now, rolling his eyes and nudging Steve’s shoulder.

“What’re you upsetting yourself for?” He’d say, gently closing the laptop and coaxing Steve into his arms. “I’m right here, pal.”

And if Steve closes his eyes, he can almost feel Bucky’s warmth enveloping him. But he’s not there. He’s dead, and Steve’s a goddamn ghost, drifting through a future that doesn’t know him.

He opens his eyes and stares at the text box, then clicks submit.

The screen loads, and his message is gone, his pain forever documented in the abyss.

-

For someone who fought aliens two weeks after waking up from his impromptu seventy year sleep, Steve’s life is pretty monotonous. He contemplates this unfortunate fact as he stands in front of his toaster, hair sticking up on the back of his head as he nurses a mug of coffee and waits for his toast to pop.

It’s 5:45 in the morning and he tries to remember a time when he didn’t rise this early. Before the war, perhaps. Though, he’s always been a bit of an early bird. His home life was sporadic to put it lightly and he’d learned from an early age that the sooner he was awake, the better it was for everyone. Vigilance is not a new concept for Steve.

He hasn’t always stayed up late, though. That’s certainly new, and he feels this fact viscerally as he catches sight of his reflection in the microwave. There are bags under his eyes that will be gone by mid-morning thanks to the serum. Dermatologists hate him, Natasha says. Steve thinks he’s pretty lucky that the serum more or less equipped him with a built-in anti-aging agent. His father had started balding by thirty.

His toast pops and he starts a little, blinking blearily at the slightly burnt bread as he pulls it out of the toaster with his thumb and forefinger. He spreads on the same raspberry jam and butter that he uses every morning and tries not to think of how bland it tastes in his mouth as he eats it standing at the counter. Another routine.

He tries not to look at last night’s dishes in the sink as he stacks his plate and silverware on top and doesn’t bother sorting out his hair before pulling on his sneakers and slipping out of his apartment. The sun hasn’t quite risen yet, only the beginning tendrils of light sneaking over the low tops of the DC buildings, and Steve vaguely regrets not grabbing a sweatshirt before he left. It’s not quite Summer yet and the mornings could still get pretty cool.

He’s about to take off down the street when he freezes. Natasha is sitting on the steps of his complex, wearing a pair of pink tinted sunglasses and tossing up and down the keys to her car. Steve blinks, rubs his eyes, then blinks again. Nope. She’s still there.

“Nat?”

Natasha looks up at him and smiles. “Hello.”

Steve shifts, uncomfortable. “Hi. You need something? Is there a mission?”

“No,” Natasha says lightly, standing. “You’re not running this morning, though. Come on, I’m taking you to Starbucks.”

“What?”

“Starbucks. You’re going to try it.”

“I don’t want--”

“Steve, you do the same thing every day. Step out of your comfort zone a little.”

Steve frowns, but Natasha’s right-- he really doesn’t ever stray from his routine.

“Fine,” he says, and twenty minutes later, they’re strolling into the nearest Starbucks.

He’s only been in one before, and that was to use the restroom while on a run. He’d bought a water bottle in an attempt to not be rude and use their facilities without giving them any business, but he hadn’t even considered the expansive menu. All the fancy names were too daunting.

They’re just as daunting now as he stares up at the board, heart hammering out of his chest as he’s faced with indecision. Natasha takes one look at his face, and reaches out to squeeze his arm.

“I’ll order something for you,” she says. “What kind of coffee do you like?”

Steve gives her a pained look. “Um… just coffee?”

Natasha quirks a smile and orders him something called a caramel macchiato. He’ll take it, he guesses.

The drink is too damn sweet and sugary and he almost gags. Still, he was always told to finish what he was given, so he drinks the whole thing.

-

To: Mr. Sweet Tooth

You’d fucking love it here. Everything is packed with sugar and sweetness-- enough to make even my teeth rot. I had something called a caramel macchiato today and it tasted like someone took your ma’s caramels and condensed them into a cup. I couldn’t stand it, but I know if you were here, you’d want at least twelve. I hope you’re enjoying all the sweets you can up in space.

Love, Mr. Boring

-

Steve’s fingers are stiff and frozen as he works at the straps of his stealth suit. The tangy taste of saltwater still sits heavy on his tongue, and he clenches his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering too harshly as he finally peels off his suit. It’s not much better, being naked, but at least the wet fabric isn’t clinging to him anymore.

The mission had been pretty straightforward until some alien tech managed to blast the quinjet to kingdom come, and they all free-fell straight into the freezing Atlantic.

Steve had managed to keep it together as they took down the goddamn mad scientist that fucked them over, but now that he’s home and alone, he can feel the adrenaline crashing.

He’s shaking from more than just the cold as he draws himself a warm bath, and he pulls his knees up to his chest, trying to breathe through the panic that wants to engulf his entire being.

He loses time for a bit, and comes back to himself lying in his bed, burrowed under several thick layers. He feels so cold, down to his very soul-- a chill that he can never seem to truly shake, even when he’s warm.

Not for the first time, he wishes Bucky were there to hold him. He slips off to sleep thinking old, comforting thoughts of Bucky rubbing his hands between his own, coaxing his head under his chin to engulf him in that natural warmth of his. He always was a fucking furnace.

But when Steve wakes an hour later, shaking hard enough to move the bed with the force of the nightmare he’d dropped into, Bucky is not there to soothe away the ice.

-

To: JB

im so cold and i cant breathe ever and nothing feels right. I dont know what to do, u were always the problem solver between us and i cant think straight right now and i just want you here please. I cant do this anymore, im so tired please come back. I need you please

-

The Winter Soldier file sits in front of Steve-- a horrifying nightmare wrapped up in a neat brown folder. Residual nausea swirls around in his gut as he comes down from the horrible high of reading through the contents. His hands shake where they grasp the thick paper. His heart clenches hard in his chest.

Bucky is alive. Bucky is alive, and he’s been unmade.

Steve doesn’t know where he is-- if he’s escaped, or if Hydra found him again. It’s been three weeks now since the helicarriers, and he’s only just gotten the courage to sit down and wade through the shit that is Bucky’s reality.

He just hopes he’s safe. God, he hopes.

Sam says he’ll help him look, and Steve needs to know he’s at least out of danger, but he barely knows where to start.

And he’s sorry. He’s so fucking sorry.

Blinking out of his reverie, Steve looks at his laptop. He feels strange and detached as he reaches for it and logs in.

To: Bucky

And yes, that feels right. He should use his name, since he suspects no one has for a long, long time.

I’m so sorry for what happened to you. I’m sorry that you’ve been hurting so quietly for so long. I understand if you’re not ready to come home-- I understand if you never are. I just hope that you know that there will always be a place with me that is safe. I love you so much and I’m here, forever and always.

Love, Steve.

He’s not naive. He knows it would be dangerous to submit that particular message, so he doesn’t. But that’s okay. That one’s just for him-- for them.

-

“Steve? What is the… Unsent Project?”

Steve frowns and pokes his head out of the kitchen. Bucky is sitting on the couch in the living room, using his laptop, because his own is having storage issues.

Bucky looks at him. “It’s one of your saved tabs. What is it?”

And oh, fuck. Steve had forgotten to remove that from his homepage-- it really wasn’t needed anymore. He blushes all the way to his ears.

“Oh, it’s-- nothing. Not anything important--”

But Bucky has already clicked on the tab.

“The Unsent Project,” he reads aloud. “A collection of unsent text messages to… first… loves…”

He trails off as he processes what he’s looking at, and Steve can’t quite read his expression when he looks at him again. His eyebrows are furrowed, and he’s looking at Steve like he’s some sort of kicked puppy. Steve shifts, uncomfortable.

“Were you sending me… messages? While I was dead?”

Steve swallows. “Um…” and now that Bucky says it out loud, it really does sound quite sad. He shrugs. “It’s Natasha’s fault?”

Bucky shakes his head, clicking on the search bar. He starts to type his name, but Steve shakes his head.

“I didn’t use your name.”

“Oh,” Bucky says, then frowns at him again. “What did you use?”

Steve blushes harder, sitting next to Bucky and taking the laptop from him.

“Um…” he hesitates, then types what he was sure he used as his first alias.

My astronaut

The screen buffers and loads, then fifty or so messages pop up. Steve scrolls down-- it doesn’t take long to find his.

They’re both quiet as they read, and Steve cringes. Jeez, he really had been pretty dramatic. Next to him, Bucky makes a hurt noise.

“Oh, honey,” he murmurs, taking the laptop back from Steve. He reads the message again, then once more, and reaches out for Steve. “Aw, I’m here now.”

Steve huffs, embarrassed. “I know,” he says. “That was way back, like, three weeks after I woke up.”

Bucky stills. “You fought aliens three weeks after you woke up?”

“... More like two.”

Bucky hums. “Are there others?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, reaching out to type on Bucky’s lap, because Bucky is holding him now and he’s quite reluctant to move. He thinks for a moment, then types in the next one he remembers.

Mr. Sweet Tooth

Bucky laughs, and Steve finds himself smiling.

“I find this funny,” Bucky says. “Because caramel macchiatos are definitely one of my favorites now.”

Steve laughs, too, and butts his head against Bucky’s shoulder.

“If only I could tell that to myself back then-- he’d be thrilled.”

“I’m sure,” Bucky says. “Any more?”

Steve hesitates, thinking of the one he’d sent after that nightmare-- when he was low and hurting. Incoherent. He isn’t sure he wants Bucky to see that particular side of his soul, but Bucky has been more than generous in letting him in on his pains nowaday, and it’s not like Bucky hasn’t witnessed Steve’s own current nightmares.

He bites his lip and types in JB. That seems to yield a lot more results, and it takes a while for Steve to find the message.

He hides his face in Bucky’s neck as he reads. Bucky’s arms gradually tighten around him, and a moment later, he feels him kiss the top of his head.

“Honey, I hate that you were hurting so bad,” Bucky mutters against his hair.

Steve shrugs. “We both were,” he says, and it’s true. There’s something to be said about the guilt they both feel for not being able to save the other person at their lowest, but life hasn’t been kind to them. The vitriol, Steve thinks, should be directed at the goddamn universe for keeping them apart, not themselves for fucking dying. They’re working on it.

Bucky’s quiet for a long time. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he says. “Is that it?”

Steve shakes his head. “But I never sent the last one.”

“Why not?”

“I wrote it after DC.”

He feels Bucky squeeze him again, and he squeezes back.

“Oh.”

“I just-- I wanted you to know that you didn’t have to come home. That I just wanted you to be safe; needed to know you were safe, but it was up to you. I just needed you to know I was here, if you needed me.”

Bucky pulls back then and cups his face, kissing him soundly. Steve’s surprised for only a moment before he’s kissing back.

“I did know that,” Bucky says against his lips. “I needed time-- I was lost-- but the first thing I knew when I remembered who you were was that you were a safe person, because you’d never force me anywhere.”

Steve kisses him again, then pulls him into a hug. “I’m glad you knew that.” It’s warm, where their chests meet, and Bucky is solid beneath him. Real. He isn’t speaking into an abyss anymore.

-

There’s a sticky note on Bucky’s pillow next to his head when he wakes up the next morning. Steve’s side of the bed is already vacant, and he can’t hear him downstairs. He must have already left for a run.

Propping himself on an elbow, Bucky plucks up the sticky note.

To: My Bucky

Thank you for choosing me to be your home, and thank you forever, for being mine.

I love you with everything I have.

Love, your Steve

Bucky smiles, heart light as he folds the notes. He’ll keep that one with him, he thinks. A little bit of home to bring wherever he goes.

-

anyway yeah fslkjflaskjfls i-- ouch. anything to do with letters w these two hurts me immensely