#pair that with the rings within rings within rings and you've got a Very Normal planet

[forter-from-meteos]

starriings are cool (: they look like the embodiment of the word "girl" and they flutter like butterflies and the entire dark area is their eye. they do their little hops with the pupil to the side and then they Look at you. they are lop-eared rabbitgirls to me. deeply religious rabbitgirls

[hopesangelsprite]

Dial Drunk

Pairing: drunk!Illumi x reader

Summary: Illumi has way too much to drink and turns into a subby baby bottom boy- /hj

Warnings: language, mvrd3r threats ofc, mentions of alcohol consumption

It wasn't normal to get calls from Illumi around this time of night. From your nightstand, your alarm clock alerted you that it was getting close to 3 am and the constant ringing from your phone was a proud indicator that something was wrong. As you rolled over to see your lover's name in bright white letters, you wondered what the actual fuck was going on.

"You've got 3 seconds to explain why you're calling me in the middle of the night and not on your side of our bed.", you grumbled out groggily earning an unfamiliar chuckle. You frowned and sat up straight as someone who was definitely not your fiance spoke. "Apologies, bunny!~ I'd no idea a sweet thing like you would be waiting on me.", came a smooth drawling voice that made your skin prickle.

You glared into the dark before replying, "Who the hell are you and where's my husband?". The man on the other side of line huffed dejectedly before there was rustling in the background. "Who's this.. oh it's (Y/N)!! Hello, loveee open the door, would ya?", came the familiar sound of your fiancé's voice. Still, there was something very wrong. He never called you that nickname when other people where around. "Illumi, where are you? Are you okay?", you questioned while pulling yourself from the warmth of your sheets.

As you pulled on a pair of shorts, Illumi started to answer but was cut off by annoyed sigh. More rustling filled the speakers and there was a knocking sound over the phone and outside your door. "This is becoming more annoying than amusing. Come and get your boytoy so I can get back to partying!", drawled the other voice from earlier. You rolled your eyes before making your way toward the door. You contemplated not opening it out of suspicion, but the sound of struggling quickly made your mind for you.

You swung the door open only to come face to face with your lover trying, and failing, to strangle a tall, pink-haired guy who seemed completely unfazed with the situation. The aforementioned male locked eyes with you and his expression shifted into one of mischief. "Well, hello there! You must be the Misses...", he trailed off to look you over with a smirk, "No wonder he likes to keep you to himself.". Before you could give the brightly dressed idiot in front of you a piece of your mind, Illumi hissed at him like a feral cat and attempted to gouge his eyes out.

He would've succeeded had you not chosen to intervene. You called out to the darker haired male causing him to turn and face you. Every bit of anger and malice he'd just been using to try and kill his friend left him as he took in your smaller frame. Within seconds you were swept up into his arms and bombarded with a barrage of kisses across the expanse of your face.

A yelp escaped you as Illumi tossed you into the air the way you would a child and hugged you tightly. "Missedyousomuchnevergonnaletyououtofmysighteveragain..", he spoke into your chest breathlessly. You pulled his face from between your boobs and looked him over. His usually pale skin was flushed a light shade of pink, and you could practically smell the alcohol poisoning on his breath. You looked back to the pink-haired guy in time to see him snap a picture of you both with a snicker. "What the hell did you do to him???", you inquired to which he shrugged with a wide, wicked grin. "We made a bet, he lost, we got fucked up, and now I'm going to get even more fucked up.", he answered before bowing extravagantly and beginning to shut your door.

Just as you were about to call out and ask for a better explanation, you were engulfed in a wave of bloodlust. Illumi turned his head to glare in the direction of the door, his hair standing on end and waving in a non-existent wind. "Hisoka... if you ever speak to my wife so casually again, I'll split you from your testes to your tonsils while you watch. Now, leave.", he spoke in an eerily calm tone. Hisoka, the guy you assumed was standing at your door, paled considerably before slamming the door shut and swiftly making an exit.

As soon as he was gone, the bloodlust that had been suffocating you evaporated into the air as if it had never existed. You inhaled deeply, coughing in the process and catching Illumi's attention. He too gasped at your breathless state and sat on the couch with you still in his arms. "I'm sorry!", he pouted with watering eyes, "Didn't mean to hurt you, sweet girl.". You stared at him with wide, deeply unsettled eyes as he held your face in his large hands ever so lovingly. "Illu, how much have you had to drink??", you asked to which he shrugged.

"Three or four...", he started, and you prematurely sighed in relief, "rooms. Yeah, four storage rooms worth!". He beamed at you with pride, and you wonder how the fuck he wasn't dead yet. "Honey... maybe you should lay down for the night, yeah?", you suggested to which he nodded and stood from the couch with you on his hip. You held on for dear life as he stumbled toward your shared room with you in tow and threw himself onto your bed.

You attempted to roll off of him, but he was quick to pull you back into his chest and squeeze. "Who said you could leave yet?", he purred with a sneaky giggle before rolling on top of you. You watched both curious and amused as his eyes clouded with lust and his hair pooled around you on either side. Slowly, Illumi leaned in to place a kiss in on your lips, completely missing them and latching onto your cheek instead. Hysterical giggles fluttered from your throat as Illumi sat up and pouted down at you like an annoyed child.

"I'm seducing you and you think it's funny?! I'll show you funny, girly!", he sneered playfully before attacking you with tickles. You screeched and thrashed around to his amusement, tears of laughter falling from your eyes as you begged for mercy. "What's that?? I'm sorry I can't tell what you're saying with you talking like that?~", Illumi teased as you wheezed underneath him.

"Let me go, please!", you giggled while wiggling around to free one of your arms. Illumi, being so focused on torturing you, didn't noticed you were freed until your hand met his side and began tickling him back. A wild yelp escaped him as he all but flew off you. "No.", he pouted with crossed arms. You cackled at the sight of your usually intimidating husband glowering at you like an angry toddler. "Can't handle a dose of your own medicine, pretty boy?", you teased to which he stuck out his tongue with indignation.

You smiled and adjusted your posture before opening your arms expectantly. Illumi had turned his head, set on ignoring you, but glanced at you from the corner of his eye at the gesture.

"Come on, you big baby!", you called while leaning against the headboard. He eyed you a while longer before huffing and crawling back to you. Unceremoniously, he dumped all of his weight on you with an audible 'oof'. Carefully, you ran your hands through his hair, taking the time to marvel at its darkness. You placed a kiss on his forehead as he buried his head further into your chest. It wasn't long before he began to doze off into your arms.

[mystra-midnight]

Language of Lust

summary: a botched hunt means that you need a refresher in latin thankfully sam is there to help.

warnings: mentions of a panic attack. forced orgasm. multiple orgasms. overstimulation. anal sex. unprotected sex. squirting. creampie.

words: 3.2k

notes: so a while ago i saw a post about being dommed in another language. and honestly it unlocked a kink i never knew i had. that post spawned this idea. please ignore the latin translations if they aren’t correct as i used google to translate. :)

In the days following the botched demon hunt, the atmosphere within the base had become tense, and that meant the three of you had been at each other's throats. It hadn’t mattered how many times you’d apologized or promised to do better next time, how much pie you’d bought for Dean, or that you’d cooked Sam's favorite meal twice; nothing had fixed it.

In truth, you all needed some space.

You most of all.

That panic attack came out of nowhere and left you completely shaken. Even a week later, you were hyperfocused on the details of it—the way the walls of the room had shuddered and groaned as you spoke the ritual words, making dust and old cobwebs fall around you. When you thought about it, your heart would race so fast and slam against your breastbone so hard that you could have sworn it started to crack.

The ringing in your ears had been a deafening crescendo, and your eyes had been a waterfall of tears even when Sam had knelt in front of you and pulled you into his chest. You remembered the sound of his voice and the beating of his heart as he whispered to you soothingly until the tears finally stopped.

You still didn't remember much about what had actually happened, but you knew that the demon had gotten away, and you knew that Dean was pissed and Sam was disappointed. Neither of them needed to say it out loud.

So for the past few days, you've busied yourself with whatever task you could find to take your mind off the entire situation. Dean had very much done the same; you hadn’t seen him since this morning, when he’d come back to grab a few things and then left again.

You knew that Sam was somewhere in the base; you’d seen him in passing a few times, but the two of you hadn’t spoken more than a few words to each other.

Normally, that would have upset you. You hated fighting with the boys, but you were feeling better and in a relatively good mood today.

You sigh as you step into the kitchen after showering to wash the sweat and anxiety from your skin. Your hair is still damp, and you're dressed in one of Dean's old shirts and a tight pair of bicycle shorts. Sam entered soon after, dressed just as casually. He looked entirely undisturbed by the events of the past few days.

"Hey," you say in passing, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"Hey yourself," he answers with a smile. For a moment, there was silence between you, but even that was short-lived. "You got the words wrong, you know," Sam says, leaning a hip against the door frame while he stares at you with arms crossed. He didn't sound angry, but it wasn't like he needed to say it; you knew you'd gotten them wrong.

Your head snaps around to stare at him, eyes narrowing at the fucking audacity he spoke with. Was that really what he wanted to say? "Yeah," you answer, your expression souring and your mouth in a tight-lipped scowl. "I figured that out from the silent treatment." You shrug your shoulders, trying not to let the hurt bleed into your voice as you turn away and busy yourself straightening a piece of paper on the table.

"Silent treatment?" He asks, pushing off the wall to come towards you. "No one is giving you the silent treatment."

"Sure you’re not," you scoff in response.

"We’re not."

"Then where is Dean? He’s running off doing his own thing because he’s pissed off at me for ruining the hunt, and it’s been two days since you said this much to me, Sam." You huff, clearly annoyed, as you cross your arms and glare at him. "No one learns from the silent treatment, Sam. Sure, I messed up. I know I did, and I’ll learn from that. The two of you don’t need to be assholes about it. But whatever, live and let live."

He walks briskly towards you, and you step back, not in fear but because the raw emotions in his eyes stun you—lust and dominance mingling beautifully in the depths of his iridescent orbs. Sam doesn't stop when you back away; instead, he walks until the small of your back is pressed against the edge of the table, and then he cages you between his arms, palms pressed flat against the table top.

"S - Sam?" You stutter when his lips pull into a smooth smirk. One of his hands grabs you by the hip, his fingertips biting into your skin just a little bit too much, and he pulls you against him, painting his body firmly against yours.

And then he’s kissing you, and you kiss him, and whatever anger was on your tongue dies.

Sam does not waste time and pushes his hand into your bicycle shorts, the material so tight that it fits you like a second skin. He wants desperately to rip it down your legs and feast on your pussy, but he shows remarkable restraint.

"If you wanted more lessons," he says between heated kisses that muffle your little gasps when he starts to rub his fingers against your clit. "You just needed to ask, sweetheart." His other hand grasps your jaw hard with his thumb and forefinger, pushing into your cheeks so that you were pouting when he kissed you again, pushing his tongue into your mouth.

You have the notion to argue with him but are silenced when he pushes a finger through your folds, which are slick with desire and anticipation. You grab at his arm when he prods your entrance, making your knees weak. "Sam, I—" you start but are silenced by the stare in his eyes.

"In Latin." 

"Sam?"

"In Latin." He says it again, this time with more force, his words accompanied by a second finger being pushed into your tight hole, drawing a wanton moan from your lips. You’re not sure where this behaviour is coming from. Sam had never so much as hinted at liking you, but in truth, you weren’t one to complain—not when he was knuckles deep in your cunt.

Your fingers curl tightly around the edge of the table, nails scratching at the underside, knuckles white under the pressure. You tilt your head back beneath his wandering mouth, enjoying the warmth of his body hovering over yours and how he pulls your shirt up to expose your tits.

Sam trails hot, wet kisses down your neck, his teeth scraping over your racing pulse. He sucks a hickey on your collarbone until a purple-blue bruise forms beneath his lips. The entire time he’s pumping his fingers into your cunt. Lewd, wet squelching fills the room because you’re that fucking wet.

He forces your legs further apart with his knee so that you're perched on the edge of the table, feet dangling in the air. His mouth moves to your chest, his lips closing around your nipple and sucking hard so that it pops from his mouth with an obscene sound and stands hard atop your tit. And then he takes the other one into his mouth, flicking and twirling his tongue so that you had to fist a hand in his hair.

He whispers something that you can’t make out. His mouth is like fire on your skin, leaving little flames of arousal licking through your veins. And then his fingers hit that spongy part of your pussy that has you hurtling towards a climax instead of slowly building to it.

You can’t help the way your nails dig into his shoulders when you cling to him when your thighs tremble. You cling to him when the storm comes out of nowhere, sweeping you away on a cloud of bliss that has you throwing your head back. He feels your walls tighten around his fingers, fresh waves of arousal against the tips, and then he’s kissing you again, rubbing his thumb in circles around your clit to keep the aftershocks of climax trembling through you.

His mouth is hot, stealing the air from your lungs until they are burning, but you don’t mind because you're still coming down from your high.

The next thing you know, it’s been an hour, and Sam has managed to make you cum three more times, twice with his fingers buried knuckle deep in your pussy, scissoring them to send you teetering over the edge of oblivion. And then once more, with his mouth on your pussy, lips encircling around your clit and sucking so hard that all you could do was repeat his name like a heaven’s prayer.

You’re done, but he wasn’t, not by a long shot.

Sam spread you out on your back, laying you out like a feast, your skin flushed and tits heaving with heavy breaths. You feel the rough pad of his thumb rubbing circles around your clit, which is slightly swollen and much too sensitive, and you claw at his wrist to push him away. Sam just smiles at you and pins both your wrists to the mattress with one of his large hands.

"It’s too much," you whine, trying to pull away and wiggle your hips away from his fingers, but you’re trapped. And you love it as much as you hate it. Sam growls softly between his teeth, his thumb prodding through your slick folds and getting nice and wet before drifting lower to push against your asshole. Your breath hitches at the sensation, and your mind spins as he pushes his thumb inside, giving a few shallow thrusts to tease you.

"Hic tam arctus es, infans," he says, his voice heavy with lust and muffled against your heaving tits. His breath is hot against your skin, his teeth scrape over your racing heartbeat, and his tongue leaves your skin inflamed and glistening. There is a knot twisting through your belly, slowly pulling tighter as his thumb pushes in and out of your tight hole.

"Ubi vis me?" His words are lost in the haze of euphoria he’s trapped you in, as meaningless as the world around you has become. You were a slave to the sensations he embodied, desperately moving your hips to take him deeper. "Hic?"

"Sam," you whine, your voice straining as you struggle in his grasp. You need him; you need to feel your pussy stretching around his big, hard cock. You need to feel him buried inside you, fucking you into oblivion.

"Hic?" He says it again, twisting his thumb in a way that has you throwing your head back and bucking your hips desperately. You can feel him smiling against your tit as he mouths it, his teeth tugging at your nipple until your back arches.

Your breath comes quicker, little pants, when he pulls his thumb from your clenching asshole, the feeling exquisite and leaving you desperate for more despite the live wires of overstimulation snaking through your veins. Sam lets go of your wrists long enough to pull one of your legs up, laying the back of your thigh up his torso so that your knee is bent over his shoulder, and then he shackles them again, trapping you beneath him.

You move restlessly when you feel his thumb against your asshole again, except this time it's not his thumb, and your eyes go wide, a whimper falling from your parted lips. You weren’t a virgin, not at all, but this would be the first time you’d ever taken something so big in your ass.

There was no mistaking that Sam Winchester was a behemoth of a man. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, and strong—Hercules reborn. Everything about him is big. His hands, his feet, his thighs, and his cock. Everything about him is solid, cut from marble; he is beautiful. His cock makes your asshole sting beautifully as he pushes the mushroom head in.

Inch by glorious inch, he pushed forward, the prominent vein on the underside of his cock dragging along your stretched hole. "Jesus, tam stricta es," he breathes against your neck, but you still don’t understand. He’s slow, letting you get used to the feeling of his cock splitting you open with short, shallow thrusts, making you moan wantonly.

He loves the little things that you do, the simple things; the pleasure that sears through him as he stretches your tightest hole; the way you’re moaning like a whore, rocking your hips desperately against his, grinding against him. He starts moving with more urgency, drawing back so that only the head of his cock is fitted snugly inside, and then he’s thrusting back in with one stroke, hitting deep, leaving you throwing your head from side to side.

Your thighs quiver, and your toes curl. Sam fucks into you at a merciless pace, stretching you out and filling you completely, and the feeling of it is beyond words. It is beautiful and exquisite—pure euphoric bliss. It makes your pussy creamy with desire, so much so that your slick drips down your crack to mingle with his thrusts. That knot in your belly pulls tighter while your clit throbs and the muscles in your thighs ache. Your lungs burn because of how you’re panting, unable to catch your breath.

His fingers tighten around your wrists when you almost buck out of his grasp, the tips of them biting into your skin so that you can feel bruises starting to form, but you don’t care. You’re so close, so fucking close. His mouth is on your neck, his teeth scraping over your racing pulse, his lips leaving hickeys behind, and his tongue leaving your skin hot and wet.

You can feel the pressure building. Your pussy is clenching desperately around nothing, and you can feel your pulse beating in your toes, your clit, even in your fingertips—you’re that close to breaking. It feels so fucking good, but you’re fighting it because the pleasure is starting to border on pain and overstimulation.

And you’re lost in it, trapped as you are beneath him.

You crave that sweet release, the way fire will race through your blood, and the way your world will be scored with lightning. You need it as much as you need to breathe, but every part of you is alive. You can hear the blood rushing behind your ears; hear the beating of your heart as it slams into your breastbone; your eyes rolling back every time his hips snap forward, pushing every inch of him deep inside you.

"Venire," he growls against your neck, his breath literally burning against your sweat-slicked skin. You don’t know what he says, but the lust in his voice and the feral look in his eyes pull that coil painfully tight. You’re breaking—he’s breaking you. He’s got you on the verge of being fucked stupid, sobbing because of him and how good it feels, but he wants more from you.

"Sam! Sam, please, please," you plead, throwing your head from side to side, desperately trying to tug your hands free. You arch your back when he hits a spot that has dots decorating your vision, your tits thrusting into the air. You can’t figure out what you’re asking for. For him to stop or for him to keep going, it’s a blur.

Every movement of his hips has that knot pulling tighter—so tight that you might die. Your pussy is twitching, clenching around nothing, and you’re so wet that it’s shining on his skin every time he bottoms out.

"Venire," he says again, this time against your ear. Your pleasure-addled brain, so drugged with pleasurable pain and desperate for the release he’s forcing from you, only comprehends what he's saying when two of his fingers are shoved through your slick folds and into your clenching hole, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing harsh circles.

You struggle to close your thighs, tears streaming down your face, tits bouncing as he fucks you harder. His cock is stretching your ass beyond belief while his fingers ram into that spongy spot that has your vision decorated with stars. "I - I - I - can’t!" You manage to stutter out, hips bucking against his, your pussy clenching so tight around his fingers.

Except you can because that dam breaks with so much pressure that you scream. It feels like lightning has hit your body, sizzling through your veins until you’re thrashing beneath him, your thighs quivering violently, and your toes curled so much that it hurts.  Sam doesn’t stop, not even when your ass tightens around his cock to the point of pain. He just presses his thumb against your clit, circling, rubbing, and making you scream for him.

You feel a gush between your thighs, your pussy convulsing around his fingers as you cum in a fountain spray. Sam curls his fingers into your g-spot, scissors them, and pulls them from you to draw out as much cum as possible. If you had any brains left, you might have been embarrassed by the way you came, squirting so hard that it hits his abdomen and drips from the nest of curls at the base of his shaft, how it drenches your thighs and pools on the mattress beneath you.

But you’re gone, lost, and fucked dumb, only able to grunt as he keeps fucking you.

"Tam pulchra, infans, tam formosa, tam mihi dura venit." His own voice is trembling, and his balls draw closer to his body as the muscles in his abdomen tighten. He buries himself deep so that your ass is full and your pussy tingles. And you feel it as he grunts against your neck—feel the white-hot ribbons of cum filling your ass.

Sam keeps thrusting until you've milked him dry, and then he pulls out, drawing a pathetic, desperate moan from your lips because of the sensation. Having let go of your wrists, he sits back on his haunches. You lay there, your thighs still trembling, your mind lost. Sam watches the way your pretty pussy twitches and the way your ass puckers, and his sticky cum drips from it in fat globs.

"What do pretty girls say after being filled with cum?" He asks, his voice soft, his fingers pushing his cum back into your stretched-out ass so that you were whimpering and shaking again. You manage to peel your eyes open to stare at him, tears in them, your chest heaving as he shoves two long fingers into your asshole.

He speaks English this time so that you understand, but you are still slow to react, straining to close your thighs. He kisses you without warning, his tongue in your mouth, licking yours until you're clawing at his shoulders to keep him there, desperate for his kiss.

"Gratias tibi." You managed with a weary smile, and that was enough for him for the moment.

the translations ::

Hic tam arctus es, infans. - You’re so tight here, baby.

Ubi vis me? - Where do you want me?

Hic? - Here?

Hic? - Here?

Jesus, tam stricta es. - Jesus, you’re so tight.

Venire - Come/cum.

Venire - Come/cum.

Tam pulchra, infans, tam formosa, tam mihi dura venit. - So pretty, baby, so beautiful, coming so hard for me.

Gratias tibi - Thank you.

[seoafin]

perseids

pairing: gojo x reader ; fushiguro megumi & reader warning: fluff. obligatory gojo warning. mentions of severed fingers. megumi thinks gojo is a stalker word count: ~3.9k

“Megumi,” you say his name one day, unassumingly. He knows that tone. He looks up from his homework, already anticipating what will inevitably follow. "Would you rather lose your hand or foot?”

Gojo guffaws from the couch, suddenly awake for someone who had collapsed on the couch twenty minutes prior and gone slack. Looking tremendously amused, he leans over the end of the couch, awaiting Megumi’s answer.

Underneath your expectant gaze from across him, book spread out in front of you, Megumi isn’t sure, if he’s being honest; to the answer to your question and the reason you asked in the first place. The only thing he is sure of is that he dislikes being fodder for Gojo's entertainment.

You deserve an answer though, for whatever line of thinking prompted this seemingly unexpected question. There's always a reason for it he thinks, however unapparent it may be to anyone else; some unanswered question or unorthodox approach that puts you at odds with people who don't know you.

So. He needs his hands; doesn’t know if he could call out his shadow shikigami without the coordinated hand movements the process entails. He also needs his hands to hold weapons for the training Gojo’s hinted at starting within the next month or two. But he also needs his feet. To run, to fight, to—

You laugh. “You’re thinking about it too hard! Though, I suppose you're thinking about all the potential disadvantages..." you go quiet, deep in thought. You probably don't realize you've stopped talking.

“You’re the one who asked the question,” he retorts, fiddling with his pencil, staring down hard at his homework to avoid having to see Gojo’s expression.

“Where’d this come from all of a sudden anyway,” Gojo says, stretching his arms out with a yawn. “It’s too early for you to be like this.” It comes out like a sigh, but a grin pulls at his lips.

You look down at your spread hand, flexing your fingers. “I lost two of my fingers last month,” you start casually. 

The smirk slides right off Gojo’s face. “Ha?”

“I almost lost my entire hand. A curse sliced it straight off,” you recount it as if you’re discussing how the rainy weather has ruined your plans for a picnic you hadn’t wanted to go to in the first place.

“When was this? Kobe? Tokushima? Hyogo?” Gojo begins to list the very specific locations of your previous missions in a worrying fashion that Megumi thinks should warrant at least some alarm on your side.

“Shoko reattached it.” You observe the pinky like you can’t believe it yourself, as if you’re admiring a pretty ring instead of the wonders of the reverse cursed technique. “Isn’t Shoko amazing?”

Megumi doesn’t have an answer for any of this. The conversation has spiraled past the conventions of normal talk, into wild, unfettered territory akin to stumbling around in the dark, blind, slowly feeling a path out.

“Oi,” A flicker of exasperation and impatience taints the usually unbothered lines of Gojo’s face. “Answer the question already.”

“Oh,” you turn to Satoru as if you had forgotten he was there in the first place. “Tottori. The sand dunes? I brought you souvenirs, remember?”

Gojo makes a face, lips verging on a frown. “Yeah no. That’s not what this is about—”

“I guess it got me thinking. The human hands are really important, you know? Our opposable thumbs are one of the wonders of the human body, and considered one of the greatest evolutionary forces in the development of our brains. It's the reason why I can handle my katana so well. But if for some reason I couldn't get to Shoko in time and had to choose between my foot or my hand, I'd probably choose my right hand. I think if I really had to, I could relearn the katana one handed."

Megumi does not know in what world this conversation would be applicable. Even Gojo is looking distinctly disgruntled, lips thinner than he's ever seen them, but he attributes that more to the fact that Gojo does not like being ignored by you.

"Anyway. We shouldn't be so reliant on Shoko all the time. You never know when she might not be able to come to your immediate aid." You finish with a nod, looking satisfied, and Megumi gets the sense that this is the climactic opinion that has formed the basis of this conversation.

"Oh," he says tonelessly. "Got it."

You smile.

-

“Megumi, Tsumiki,” you say, entering the apartment with a large bulky object under your arm, slightly out of breath. Tsumiki looks up from the table, eyes going wide as her gaze lands on the telescope. You grin. “There’s a meteor shower tonight. Let’s go see the stars!”

He hadn’t heard anything about a meteor shower, but he had seen several papers plastered to the telephone poles on his way to school depicting what he had assumed to be a shooting star for some event at night.

Tsumiki is boundless in her excitement, hands gripping his arm tightly. Even now, she looks towards him for a confirmation. She doesn’t want to leave him alone.

“Can we?” She asks. “Let’s go Megumi!” 

“Well, I don’t want to force you.” You set the telescope down. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. But I just thought it’s been a while since the three of us did anything together…”

Tsumiki tilts her head to the side. “Gojo-san’s not coming?”

“He’s in Nagoya for a super top rated secret mission!” She looks intrigued at your exaggeration. “There’s a really amazing place up in the mountains where we’d get a great view…” you trail off, raising an eyebrow at him. “Though if you don’t wan—”

“No,” Megumi says, decision made immediately. “I’ll go.”

Forty minutes later, after a car ride with a person you had introduced as an auxiliary manager and a short hike up the mountain’s trail, he and Tsumiki are spreading two large blankets over the grass while you are kneeling, telescope in arms as you adjust the lens with a precision that tells him this is nothing new to you.

Above them, away from the pollution and the gasses of Tokyo, the stars shine brighter than he’s ever seen. They all blur together, but if he focuses hard he can distinguish semi shapes. Not that he’s ever paid much attention to the stars in the first place. Tsumiki, on the other hand—

“And right there—”

“The milky way!”

“Correct!” you beam. The two of you are huddled around the eyepiece of the telescope as Tsumiki peers in with a smile that reaches to her ears. “Can you find the Orion constellation?”

The two of you chatter about the types of constellations you can see during the different seasons, Tsumiki following along easily. He’s seen the astronomy books checked out of the library, squirreled away in her book bag where she thinks nobody can see them, and he thinks you’ve seen them too.

From the darkness, the shadows morph into two familiar shapes next to him. Eager tongues lap at his hand in greeting. Then the two dogs bound towards Tsumiki.

“How about you?” You take a seat next to him on the blanket. Tsumiki is eagerly adjusting the focus on the telescope in front of the two of you while an absentminded hand scratches an ear of a happily panting dog. “Want a try?”

He makes a noncommittal noise. He’s content with watching Tsumiki. His own gaze gives him more than enough.

“The meteor shower is going to start soon,” you murmur, looking up. “So I suppose we won’t even need it then.”

The two of you observe the stars in silence, as Tsumiki calls out her observations every few minutes. There’s a couple of names that don’t sound real to Megumi, but you nod, pointing out several other constellations to be found in the sky tonight.

You lean back on your arms. “It’d be nice if I could take you two to see the Southern Crux,” you muse, “You can’t see it in Tokyo. The only place you can see it from in Japan is at Ishigaki or the Yaeyama Islands. We could go all the way to Ishigaki for a vacation next summer during June, how does that sound?”

Megumi’s never been outside the grand metropolitan area of Tokyo; has never really had any desire for it, too caught up in the taxing issue of immediate survival and Tsumiki’s care. A vacation. The concept is not unwelcome as it is foreign.

“Do you usually do things like this?”

You hum, now lying flat against the blanket, eyes unfocused. “A long time ago,” you sigh out, face resembling something that looks like indifference although it isn’t. “With my parents.”

A delighted gasp tears out of Tsumiki’s throat just as you finish, and Megumi watches a single bright line streak across the upper atmosphere amongst the thousands of stars glittering like cuts of jagged glass, following the path set by the undiluted milky way. It cuts through the sky until it slowly fades out of view.

Megumi thinks it’s pretty anticlimactic, but still pretty. An invaluable memory to Tsumiki so worth something.

Tsumiki is glued to the telescope as another comes within sight. And then another. Soon more than a few are in sight, looking as if they’re falling from the sky.

“I wish Satoru were here. Shoko too.” There's a space between your words; something you don't say. Darkness falls upon the two of you, a rare cloud engulfing the waning moon. There is a ghost of a smile in the curve of your lips, both content and longing and something sad splayed out on your face.

Megumi thinks that this is where he should say something. So you don’t get too lost in your head like you’re prone to doing.

“Are you leaving soon?”

You inhale, stretching your arms over your head as you sit up. “People have gone missing by Mt. Shiomi. I’m being sent to investigate tomorrow.”

Summers are always busy, that’s what he’s learned in the couple of years since you and Gojo have entered his and Tsumiki’s lives. If you’re going to be gone, then he should expect Gojo in lieu of you. It’s not an appealing trade off.

Megumi can already hear the older boy’s ugly, grating laughter and looming smile. He is suddenly exhausted.

“This is rare,” you say, interested. “You don’t usually ask about our missions.”

He doesn’t. He’s already resigned himself to a bleak future of jujutsu sorcery. His flat lipped disdain pulls your eyes wide.

You blanche, straight as a rod, looking at him. “W-wait…this wouldn’t happen to be because of the other day? When I brought up losing my fingers?” Panic lines your face, and you look vaguely ill. “I didn’t mean to scare you!” You wave your hands frantically to assuage the panic he doesn’t feel. “That was just…” Your head hangs down as you sigh. It takes you a few seconds for you to find your footing.

“Megumi,” you say quietly, eyes sharp. “I want you to know that if you don’t want to be a jujutsu sorcerer, I’ll help you. I’ll do anything.” Then softly: “You don’t need to be a jujutsu sorcerer. Your wants come first,” in an attempt to inject some levity, your lips quirk upwards. “I’d go against the Zenins for you in a heartbeat.”

“Even against Gojo?” He regrets it the moment it leaves his mouth. There’s no backpedaling when you stare at him, a curiously probing gaze that prods at him with the soft graze of a feather. You’ll draw back, expression torn as you struggle for a brief second on how to let him down gently. There’s no way you’d choose him over Gojo, and he’ll regret having even thought it, for letting himself get carried away, for letting himself think for one second that—

You break out in a wide smile. “I think you’ve got the wrong idea here.”

The wind picks up, and a chill climbs up his exposed arms as your hair whips against your face. Grass pricks at the hand situated outside the blanket, flattened against the earth. Even in the dark, he can see your face clearly overlapping with the shadows of the night and the soft glow of the stars above, blanketing the earth.

“I’m on your side, Megumi.” You say it like a fact, and his chest goes tight, as if there’s a quivering fist clutching at his heart. “And whatever you want, I’ll do everything in my power to help you.” Your words are slow and measured, as if you’ve thought long and hard on this, ruminating on the possibility of this very exchange. You exhale. “I’m nobody special so these words might be meaningless, but I want you to know I’m always on your side, whether you want to be a jujutsu sorcerer or not.”

It’s hard to look at you. His vision wavers, blinking in and out like the smattering of constellations above.

“And Satoru, huh?” Your face goes thoughtful. Then inexplicably amused. “Well, I’d just have to make him see reason. Somehow. And if that doesn’t work then—” you chuckle, flopping back on the ground, turned to the sky, and Megumi’s tense shoulders go slack; partially in relief that you aren’t looking at him anymore “—I’d take you and Tsumiki and run!”

The words are heavy in his mouth, throat indescribably thick, even though he feels light enough that he could float into the sky. But he, ever the pragmatist: “Gojo would find us within the week.”

Maybe even less. Megumi wouldn’t put it past Gojo to have installed some sort of tracking device in your phone, like the ones he’s seen commercials for on tv. You don’t seem like the type of person to get easily lost, but he’s witnessed Gojo scouring crowds for you in search of where you’ve wandered off to for the second, third, fourth time, attention captured by an intricate detail in the carving of a marble fountain in the park or some stray cat or something most people wouldn’t give a second glance to. He had garnered it was a regular occurrence in the way Gojo would enter a store, take you by the arm, and ferry you out without another word. In the way you'd let him.

“It’s a full time job with you,” Gojo had said to you, chidingly light, the other day upon finding you. He slid in between you and the man Megumi had assumed stopped you on the street, making a space for himself that forcibly separated you away from the so-called offender. Megumi could tell that there was displeasure lurking underneath the surface of Gojo’s curved lips.

It hadn’t been perceptible at first. But there were moments this irritable character of his peeked out from beneath his ceaseless smiles and taunts in the form of a sharply formed retort, a shadow of a twitching brow, fingers curling into your wrist or shoulder steering you away. And it was most noticeable when you were heavily engaged in conversation with someone other than him.

Gojo had crowded into you, while the man watched eyes wide, and leaned down, gaze forcing yours. “Do you really think anybody but me could handle you?”

You hadn’t understood. Instead you gawked at him in visible confusion. There was a flyer in your hand. Breast Cancer Awareness, it said.

Both thoughts give Megumi a headache.

“H-have a little faith in me, would you?” But you also, look troubled on the account that Gojo probably could and would, find you easily enough.

In fact, you’re looking downright depressed now, face clouding over with a memory he’s sure merits some truth to his words.

“Megumi!” Tsumiki is beckoning him over to the telescope wildly, cheeks red with the cold but eyes alight with an childish excitement that’s been cementing itself on her face more often nowadays, as if it never left with her mother in the first place. His demon dogs bark at her side, spurred on by Tsumiki's enthused demeanor. He’d die before he’d admit it, but It’s nice to see his sister smiling. “Hurry, hurry! I found Orion!”

You’ve propped yourself up on the backs of your elbows and nod with a smile that motions for him to go on.

He stands; takes a few steps forward but his feet stop, back towards you.

“I’ll become a jujutsu sorcerer.” Megumi made a deal after all. And if nothing else, he at least has his word. There’s too much to be lost; all contingent on a transaction his deadbeat of a father made all those years ago, monetizing his existence. He’s too old to be relying on people, yet all too aware of his limitations made painfully apparent, forcibly dragged up to the surface and laid bare in the face of Gojo’s dissecting gaze. 

Megumi understands intrinsically there is security in being a jujutsu sorcerer that’s been lacking his entire life. No matter how much of a shitty job it is, if Gojo’s complaints are anything to go by.

“Think on it,” you say, and he doesn’t need to look at you to know your smile has turned forlorn. “You’re too young to be worrying about these things, you know?”

He also understands that he wouldn’t put the burden of a selfish decision on you either.

—

The three of you are walking down the trail that winds down the mountain, the winds whistling through the trees as owls hoot and other smaller creatures scurry through the dark and crackling branches. The sky is still unnaturally bright, watching over him as you navigate down with an ease that speaks to memories of long ago.

Megumi feels the softness of his dogs flanking him, brushing against his legs. It’s probably two in the morning now, and he feels the grogginess of sleepiness pricking at him while Tsumiki is still wide awake, glancing up at the sky every few seconds in awe.

“Thank you for taking us,” Tsumiki says politely. “We had a lot of fun! Right, Megumi?”

“I’m glad,” you smile, affectionately rubbing her head. “Anytime!"

“...Thank you,” he mutters, because he is still unused to the words. Unused to accepting things from others, especially adults. He hopes you can’t hear that he means it, but judging from the way you try to hide your face to the side, in the darkness of the forest, you know.

The three of you make it down to the base of the mountain, to the gravel lot, and he releases his demon dogs. They bark once in a goodbye, before melting into the shadows of the ground without another sound.

There’s someone leaning against a sleek black car. 

“Ah,” you say instantly, perking up in a way that illuminates your face. “Satoru?”

The implications don’t hit you as quickly as they do him. The drowsiness abates.

Megumi slows to a stop in the gravel of the parking lot. It’s two in the morning and instead of the nice looking man that had driven them to the mountain, there is Gojo Satoru.

There are many words to describe Gojo Satoru. Megumi adds stalker to the list.

“Yo!” Gojo replies, looking energetic, but Gojo is always energetic in your presence as if ensuring being as outlandish as possible will draw your ever fleeting attention towards him and only him. 

On the other hand, it drains Megumi’s energy, depleting him even further.

The smile on your face falters. You open your mouth. “How—” You close your mouth and stare.

Gojo cocks his head to the side. “How?” He parrots.

Your voice sounds a bit reedy, a touch bewildered. “How’d you know I was…?”

The smile touches his sunglasses, high on his face, as you look on blankly.

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...” You sweat. “S-Satoru…”

“There’s my favorite Fushiguro!” Gojo exclaims, taking Tsumiki into his hands and lifting her up and down like a maniac while her laughter fills the empty lot. Then his voice picks up a notch, louder and frenzied, taking on a shrillness Gojo knows he hates, especially at a time where normal, sane people would be talking in a much more hushed tone. He’s doing it on purpose.

“What’s with the face Megumi? Is it that late? Past your bedtime? Did someone miss their afternoon nap?” Tsumiki giggles goodnaturedly, still in Gojo’s grip.

Too many questions. Even the irritation that surges into him like a tide crashing onto the shore is dulled. It’s too late for this. Megumi doesn’t even take naps. He’s not a baby. But Gojo is looking at him now, chin tilted downwards, too bright eyes peeking out from above his sunglasses like a partial eclipse, as if he knows that Megumi spent up most of his partially developed cursed energy on his demon dogs. That he knows he might pass out from exhaustion the second he hits his bed. Megumi doesn't know how you can stand being the center of Gojo's rapt attention most times. He'd rather get picked apart by the crows.

Gojo only tucks Tsumiki into the car and buckles her in.

The theatrics disappear. “How was the meteor shower?” He asks you, without missing a beat, skipping right over the ten seconds of your silence that he had met with his own. The telescope is promptly taken from your arms, collected into his own and secured in the trunk of the car. Then he's back in front of you, leaning in inquiringly at a suspect closeness that you don't blink twice at. 

There's no way a sane person would let this go. There’s no way a sane person would greet Gojo with anything less than suspicion.

You are an unfathomable person though. Insane at times, and just as incomprehensible as Gojo. He forgets that sometimes, when you flit between unsensible and sensible the way you do, as natural as breathing.

You blink. “It was…” the perturbed look falls away from your face, the corners of yours eyes crinkling, lips easing into a smile that doesn’t hide how genuinely happy you are to see him. It feels like a loss. “Good. Did you get to see the shower too?”

He can practically feel the smug aura radiating off Gojo. Once again, he's worked around your suspicions, and he knows it.

Rationalization, Megumi thinks from the haze of sleep cottoning his brain, is a scary thing.

He thinks it’s a certain trait that most jujutsu sorcerers share. There are too many different variables out in the field, and one second of underestimating the truth of reality can mean the difference between life and death. It's a saying Gojo likes to repeatedly drill into his head. The importance of time.

This isn’t normal, he wants to say. But his blinking slows, every drag of his eyelashes drawing down feeling like weights stacked atop of one another.

He keeps his eyes open through sheer willpower. You kneel down, and your worried face comes into view, a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you alright, Megumi?”

He thinks he nods.

“Let’s get you home.” Your voice sounds strangely distant, and he doesn’t remember his legs moving into the car, next to Tsumiki who pokes him on the cheek. He can’t even bring himself to swat her away. Then he feels a gentle hand on his head. He almost closes his eyes at the touch.

When you get into the front seat, he hears you say: “I didn’t know you got your license.”

Gojo smiles.

Great.

-they are looking at the Perseid meteor shower!!!

-it's not gojo but actually shoko that has the child tracking app on rip!mc's phone lmfao but she does not mind bc they r gfs who look out for each other <3 and in shoko's case that means making sure she isn't lost in a ditch!!!

-no gojo did not track her phone LMAO but she did mention the meteor shower in great detail to him like a week ago and he just put the pieces together. although the other times.........

-If u know me i do in fact distinguish gojo’s hs characterization and adult characterization. I think the persona he constructed in front of megumi (flamboyant, excited, teasing) is the one we see in the anime/gojo as an adult. I think in the time this fic takes place (2-3 years out of hs) you can still see hints of his hs self (rash, easily annoyed, blunt) bc the persona hasn't fully developed. then we get the much “smoother” gojo we see in the anime

so does gojo (knowingly) terrorize the man giving mc a flyer about breast cancer awareness? yes. he is asserting his dominance.....

[nxrthmizu]

happy birthday — tsukishima kei

pairing | tsukishima kei x reader

genre | fluff

w.c | 1.6k

↪ part two of this

second chance // an opportunity to try something again after failing one time

tsukishima kei wasn't expecting anyone. sure, it was his birthday, but he did have work the next day, and wasn't very keen on drinking himself senseless into the witching hour.

since yamaguchi, his mother, and akiteru had taken it upon themselves to inform half of japan of his birthdate, kei had just spent the past four hours repeating 'thank you' to people ranging from his junior high schoolmates and strangers he had never met. he was certain that 99% of the players involved with the japan volleyball league had shown up, much to the amazement of his museum colleagues.

the bell rings for the third time, and kei is suddenly hyperaware of how annoying the sound is. he had just sat down, for goodness's sake— was it too much to ask for one minute of rest?

with his socializing energy at an all-time-low, kei nearly tears the door off his hinges, greeting his unwelcome visitor with a fierce snarl. "what do you want—" the words clamp down on his throat, breaking his airflow for a whole five seconds as he stares, utterly floored. "... y/n?"

"...hey?" you look sheepish, holding a small, one-cake-slice-sized box in your hand. he's known you long enough to know that you did your makeup on the fly— the tremble of your eyeliner is a sure giveaway. "... uh... is this a bad time? cause i can come back later—"

"no!" he blurts, hands slamming onto the door frame. he hadn't caught a glimpse of you in six months, ever since that fateful night when you walked out through the same door you were now standing in front of. there wasn't a single night in those six, grueling months that he didn't think about you, or the warm feeling of having you contained within his arms. sure, there were nights when you two fought, heading to bed with your backs faced to each other— but when morning came, you would somehow be in his arms, and somehow kei just knew that things would blow over.

except maybe they didn't.

left with too much time to think, he analyzed every little argument the two of you ever had, critically examining every word he uttered. perhaps the break was needed— the two of you needed to take a step backwards, re-assessing what you two wanted for each other, what you two wanted together. what you said that night hadn't be wrong— there were just too many issues being swept under the rug, too many things you weren't communicating about, too many problems he elected to ignore, in hopes that they would just 'blow over'.

"i mean," he clears his throat, lifting his hand off the doorframe, groaning at the paint scratch he caused. "would... would you like to come in?"

mentally, he smacks his forehead. you don't need permission to enter! in his mind, kei still considers the apartment your home, too. even if you haven't stepped foot within its grounds for half a year.

"if that's okay?" you smile softly, holding up your cake box. "you've probably had some already, but i bought your favorite. if you're full, you could have it tomorrow morning, before work?"

"no, no, i'm not that full." kei instantly assures, even though he's already brushed his teeth. on normal circumstances, he would leave it for the next morning, but what was brushing his teeth one more time if he got to talk to you for the first time in over a hundred-eighty days?

you narrow your eyes at him playfully. "don't lie to me, tsukishima kei. i can smell your toothpaste. i'll leave it in the fridge."

a fond smirk dances over his lips as you brush past him into your apartment, leaving your shoes where you always do on the shoe rack. the sound of your sock-clad feet padding past the living room brings a truckload of tension that kei didn't know he had off his shoulders, and all of a sudden, the house feels a thousand times cozier, even if nothing materialistic has changed.

he watches you from the sofa as you bustle around the kitchen, and he knows by the number of beeps on the electric stove that you're boiling water for tea— green, probably. the ration of tea packets are restocked regularly, because when you moved in, you brought your tea addiction with you, too. kei's been lured into drinking it on a daily basis, right after dinner, as a way of calming himself down after a day of work and practice. typically, tea would be accompanied with you, snuggled up against his side as he complained about the kids he met at work that day (you both knew that he had a secret fondness for them, but shhh).

"i hope you don't mind. i made tea." you say, bringing the glass teapot you were adamant on buying a year ago. it was one of the best purchases kei ever made in the apartment, because he was reminded of the worth every single time the two of you did your regular tea routine.

"of course i don't mind." he replies instantly, picking up his mug (the green one with tiny dinos on the edge). "this is still your home, too. you don't have to ask to do anything."

he pretends not to see the flash of surprise across your features.

"right." you murmur, pressing your mug onto your lips, blowing gently on the surface.

the two of you sit in silence for a while, sipping on your tea as the clock ticks onto eleven o' clock. suppressing the urge to ask you to stay, kei taps the surface of his porcelain cup rhythmically, forgetting that you know all his tells, front to back.

"is there something on your mind?" you ask gently, setting your mug down. he grimaces.

"ah... it's nothing." kei brushes off, not wanting to come onto you too quickly. for all he knew, you were just here to deliver the cake, not to reignite whatever was left of the relation he let simmer for too long...

"... right." the tone of your voice spells i-know-you're-lying-to-me,-but-i'll-let-it-go-for-now.

the silence continues, like a set prolonged. it's starting to get on kei's nerves when you (thankfully) speak again.

"happy birthday."

"thank you." even though he's said those words a thousand times that night, it sounds a comparatively much less robotic than it had for the previous thousand times. perhaps it was thousand-first time's the charm. "i mean it. thank you for coming over."

you wave it off. "i couldn't have not come. tadashi sent me an invite, but my boss needed me to work late and i didn't manage to make it."

ah, so that was why his best friend routinely glanced at the entrance nervously throughout the night. that explained a lot.

"i don't mind." kei takes a sip of his green tea, enjoying the warmth that courses through his chest. it isn't warmer than the warmth you give him, though. "i like it like this. ... just the two of us, i mean."

you contemplate him for a moment. "i like it like this, too." you confess quietly, as if whispering a childhood secret to him behind the karasuno gym.

he couldn't bear it any longer. he's always been patient, yes, but he's seen the looks his mother and brother threw him through the night, because they both knew that the one person that really mattered wasn't there. he was pretty sure his mother was just about to introduce him to some random girl before he excused himself for the night.

"will you stay?" he blurts, feeling very un-tsukishima-kei-like. it isn't like him at all, to be brash, and bold, but how can he? for the past four hours, he's talked to countless people— heck, half of them were volleyball celebrities— but not the one he wanted to talk to.

"do you want me to?" you ask softly, shyly, and kei knows that you're thinking if he wants you back— which is stupid, honestly. he knows that you're always thinking that you're lucky to have him, when it should be the other way around. kei doesn't think there's anyone else willing to put up with his dry humor, his hectic schedule, and his dinosaur memorabilia. if anything, he should be the one thanking the gods for letting him have you.

"don't be stupid." he snaps, cringing internally at how his tone came off. "of course i want you to stay, you're the best thing that happened to me. i won't force you, but—"

"i left some clothes here, right?" you cut him off with a hum, and when kei looks into your eyes, he just knows.

there's still a long, long, long way for the two of you to go. there's still plenty of things he needs to learn. there's a pile of issues in the store room that needed to be tended to.

for every million arguments there are a billion conversations where you two need to sit down and work out the knots. for every insecurity, for every misunderstanding, for every conflict, there is a needed effort to clean up the mess properly instead of just sweeping it under the floorboards. but for every tangle there lies between the two of you, there is a universe of room to grow, and change.

kei knows he's willing to make an effort, for you. kei knows that he's willing to do anything to make sure you don't walk out that door without looking back again. kei knows he's willing to do every single thing he can do (and can't) to make it work.

he knows.

he looks into your eyes, and he smiles.

everything is going to be alright.

haikyuu!! taglist: @ryuiki @hikari-writes @whootwhoot @folkloeren @definitely-yours @rirk-ke @cemeiia @animegirlweeb @mitzwinchester @fandomsgotmefucked

[reggiejworkshop]

"Marketplace In The Morning"

It was early in the morning when the hot sun began to rise over the city of Agrabah. Within the city, the marketplace was slowly sprouting to life as the many merchants opened up their shops.  Three of them however hadn't opened theirs just yet, as they were busy chatting amongst each other. It would be incredibly busy very soon, the area would be crowded with locals, vagabonds, and traders. So, the best time to mingle would be now. 

The largest of the three, Farouk, was once again complaining about the city's notorious street rat that had once again stolen from his cart the other day. And after he had just brought in a new kind of apples as well. The merchants never knew the street rat's real name, Aladdin, but his occupation was all too familiar to them.  The other two merchants listened with growing indifference as this would often lead into him bragging about the supposed "variety' of his merchandise.

"...these are much brighter red than the ones I normally get, you really cannot tell the difference, Omar?!" Farouk exclaimed as he held up a bright red apple.

 The fruit merchant in question leaned in for a closer look with a shrug. "They're red like the others, and they hurt my teeth just the same." Omar replied bluntly, he carried two large watermelons in both of his arms. "This is why I prefer melons, they're soft and sweet, especially these new ones! They're big and harder and carry. I'd like to see him nab these!"

The jewelry merchant, Kezar, chuckled from behind him. "Don't jinx it. He might take that as a challenge."

Omar shook his head. "Agh, probably..."

"Please, the only reason your smiling about this is because he hasn't stolen from you yet!" Farouk groaned.

"Not yet, but that boy wouldn't know what to do with it if he tried. He doesn't know the value of my stuff." Kezar replied. He then opened up his chest he'd been carrying under his arm to show the variety of necklaces, badges, and shawls stuffed inside.

"What did you bring this time?" Omar asked. Farouk leaned in for a closer look. 

"I've got plenty of new stuff, fresh from Persia! Jade necklaces, silver bracelets, and lots of silk." He held up a bright pink one from his chest.  "This one is on hold for the lady, Bakhtawar."

Omar perked his head "That old lady who teaches those three orphaned ladies in the bazar?" 

"Hah, you mean brothel?!" Farouk barked.

Omar bristled at his accusation. "Farouk!"

"Only you would accuse a woman with magnificent taste like of something like that!" Kezar spat. 

Farouk crossed his arms, "Please, you've seen how those girls dress?! I know her better than you, there is nothing, that your jewelry can do to make her magnificent!"

Kezar puffed up his chest with a prideful sneer. "My jewelry can make anything look magnificent!" He pointed at a passing peddler riding a donkey, "That donkey can be a noble steer..." he pulled out a pair of earrings and held them towards Omar's ears. "He can become our revered sultan; they got the same physique!"

"Kezar, stop that!" Omar chuckled with a blush. 

Kezar then wrapped the silk around his own head and fluttered his eyes, " And I, can become pretty harem lady!"

Farouk groaned with disgust as he snatched the silk from his hands before tossing in the chest. "You and your boyish jokes! Not even the 'Cave of Wonders' could accomplish that last feat!"

Kezar's smirk disappeared.  "Id laugh if that place weren't a myth..."

"Is is not! It's a real place...!"

Meanwhile, as the merchants talked, a fourth guest was peering on the group from above a striped tent.

The small ring tailed monkey named Abu, saw the bright red apple in Farouk's hands and visualized in his own. However he knew trying to take that particular one from him would be a death wish, so he set his eyes on the ones in the basket right below him. He climbed down the tent pole's and hid right behind the large basket. He nearly froze when a familiar person came up in the conversation.

"...But anyway, that street rat better stay one jump ahead if he knows what's good for him."  Farouk stated.

"And why is that?" Omar asked, rolling his eyes. Farouk repeated that statement so many people, he wouldn't be surprised if the street rat somehow knew.

"If I ever caught him, he'd wish the Palace guards got to him first." Farouk replied with a devious chuckle before pointing at his own face. "I have eyes in the back of my head"

 It was at this point Abu decided now was the time to move. He quickly scampered in and out of the basket. He was about to make his getaway when he froze momentarily.  Kezar's eyes lazily glanced towards his direction.

"You might need a second pair of glasses then" Kezar stated before pointing at Abu. Both Omar and Farouk looked over at the monkey in shock.  Abu chattered his best insult before running off with two apples in his arms.

Farouk growled before he threw down his fez hat. Red faced, he tugged at his own bushy beard. "Agh, first its street rats! Now its street monkeys! Come back here!"

The portly apple merchant trotted after the monkey who now had a huge lead ahead of him ducked into a narrow alley. Farouk followed far behind, stumbling on a few barrels in his path.  As he did, Kezar stood and laughed at the absurd display before them.

" I can't believe it!  A street monkey! A street monkey!" Kezar said incredulously. "Can you imagine that?!"

Omar shook his head. "That's just what we need, more thieves in this city. Next thing you'll know, well find out he's friends with the street rat!"

"Don't jinx it, Omar. It might..."

"Be true. I know. It's just wishful thinking" Omar cut him off, genuinely annoyed. "Must you taunt me and Farouk like this?" 

"I cant help it if my fellow merchants inspire my best material, especially when I only have an audience of one." Kezar replied pointing at him with a smile.

Omar couldn't help but reply with a dry chuckle of his own "Keep fine tuning it, and then Farouk might actually be your second"

 The two of them chattered amongst themselves before they headed off to their own tents to set up for what would another busy day for the marketplace.

This is actually a remake of an older art piece I did WAY back in 2017. 

While at the time I did say that I loved it, I always felt the shading and linework wasn't as good as I would have preferred. And I actually had planned on redoing this for the longest, but I never got around to doing it.

Few major things different here, instead of using regular sketch paper like last time, this was done with the toned tan paper I've been using lately.  The first one was mainly done with Crayola pencils and a mixture of Prismacolor and Steadlers ones added in. So I kept it simpler with just Prismacolor this go around. I did my ink work before AND after the coloring process, which was a lot harder than expected since its pretty hard to ink right on top of wax based pencils like Prismacolor.

I wanted to go deeper on the shading and thicker on the line work so their would be a lot depth to the composition that I felt was lacking in the original. Especially for Abu (who I finally drew on model this time!) was intended to be closer in the foreground than the other characters. 

Overall, I'm extremely pleased with how well this one turned out! It's amazing to see how much you realized you improved in 5 years!

[casualreader1234]

Reunion

Pairing: Natasha x Reader

An: Part two of the random story idea I had. I think I'm just going to keep the same summary each time because I'm too bad at writing them. I tried to make this gender-neutral, and I don't think I wrote anything that would imply a particular sex, but let me know.

Summary: What if you weren't the hero of the story? What if you were the villain meant to burn the world down?

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warning: Morally gray protagonist, violence

Word Count: 2k

[Part 1], [Part 2]

This gif is so funny to me.

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

When you had first arrived in the U.S, you had been intrigued by tales of the infamous Black Widow, a former Russian assassin turned good, that was enough to catch anyone's attention. To satisfy your curiosity, you had tracked her down, wanting to see her for yourself. Watching her from afar, you understood why she was considered one of the best in her field: her movements always flowed into the next like she was performing a dance.

She easily disposed of her targets, strapping her weapons back onto herself. Seeing the completion of her job, you left the ledge of the building you had been standing of before she could see you. Slipping into the shadow, you had to admit that your interests had been piqued by the assassin.

///

You had always known that your girlfriend had been hiding secrets, but this one was far more exciting than you had thought. Never had it crossed your mind that Natasha might also be involve in the assassin industry. For such a planet, what were the chances of two assassins meeting and starting a relationship without either being the wiser. You weren't sure if that made her exceptionally good at her job, or you exceptionally bad at yours.

Asking around to some of your other contacts, you learned more about the KGB and the Red Room program that had trained Natasha, wanting a glimpse into her childhood. Disgust and rage filled you when you learned about the operation. They had hurt her, so you had made sure they all suffered for their crimes. Then, you returned back to America.

It was the reason you had stayed all these years. She was the reason. Though you've known where she's been all this time, you never revealed yourself. Maybe it was out of fear. Maybe it was out of shame.

It hadn't surprised you that Natasha decided to work for SHIELD. You've also known that she had a good heart, but it did make things more complicated.

She was one of the good guys now. If she ever crossed paths with you, she would be forced to face you as an enemy. So, for both of your sakes, you avoided doing things that would get SHIELD attention, carefully selecting jobs that would run under the radar. You had been careful, erasing most of your tracks, yet here you were, chained down to a table in a SHIELD facility.

Natalia-no-Natasha stared down at you. You unconsciously cringed under her intense gaze.

" How are you darling?" You asked, breaking the thick silence and giving her a small smile. "I must say, you look as stunning as always. Did you do something to your hair? It seems to be shorter."

Natasha didn't reply, instead shaking her head angrily. " What the hell, (Y/n). What are you doing in the U.S?"

Her harsh tone almost made you flinch. “ Here to visit my beautiful girlfriend? I've really missed you.” You tried, feeling a bead of sweat roll down your neck. Natasha may not have any powers but damn was this woman scary when she was mad. Flattery wasn't going to work on Nat though, her face stone cold as she looked down at you.

"That doesn't answer the question, milyy (darling)." She replied with a strained smile.

Tony watched the exchange with a slack jaw, eyes looking like they were going to pop out of his sockets from shock. “ I’m sorry? You know this criminal Nat?”

Your head snapped to the man, jaw clenching. “ Nat?" You sputtered at the intimate nickname. "Who gave you permission to call her Nat?” You swiveled back to look at Natasha. “What is your relationship with him?” You asked accusingly.

Natasha rolled her eyes, turning to Tony. “ Don’t call me Nat, Stark. And this idiot here is (Y/N).”

"Yeah, her [girlfriend/boyfriend] ! " You added helpfully.

The look Natasha gave you was deadly enough to silence you again. She turned her attention back to Tony, " Do you want to fill me on what's happening Stark? I return from a mission and hear from Steve that we had caught a mutant, but I wasn't even aware that we were after one." You frowned at the fact that had she referred to you as a mutant, but chose to ignore it.

Tony shrugged, acting like a bratty overgrown child," No, I don't want to." Natasha's jaw clenched and you decided to lend a helping hand.

Tendrils of black suddenly snaked around Tony, pining him hard against the wall behind him. His eyes widened, shooting to the origin of the magic, seeing you now unbounded and smiling widely at him, the handcuff hanging loosely off the table. Standing up, you rubbed at the red marks on your wrist left by the binds.

"Better answer her, Mr. Stark, I wouldn't want to get on her bad side." You threatened, eyes turning pure black for a split second.

Tony desperately looked at Natasha for help, but she stayed steadfast, unmoved and patiently waiting for him to answer. Realizing that no help was coming, he relented. "Fury got tipped off about some assassin that had been piling up bodies all across the U.S and North America. At first we dismissed them as the work of sporadic killers, not linking the deaths together until we got another tip about them being a mutant. We had Wanda examine a few of the bodies and she confirmed that magic was the cause of death. Since then, we've had our eye set on a contracted killer who went by the alias Reaper. A few weeks ago, we got a hit on their last location, and from there, we planned our trap."

Realization dawned onto you, " You put a bounty over yourself!" You exclaimed with a chuckle, thoroughly impressed by their commitment. It was a good plan, one that you hadn't even considered. Of course, if it had been any other week, the plan would've failed.

Every time you used magic, there was a backlash. The magic was deep inside you, a part of your very being, but it didn't stay that way willingly. The black flames were a dark and ancient form of magic, one that could only be wielded by a select few. Long ago, many groups had tried to master the arts, but most failed. The magic was powerful, more than anyone really knew, and only grew more so as it consumed more energy. Magicians didn't as much wield the magic, as they did subjugate it.

Candidates trained for years in preparation for the infusion, getting their body ready to handle massive amount of energy. When they were deemed ready, they would be exposed to a pure form of the magic. The flames would consume them and their screams could be heard for miles. Most people who entered the last trial end up dead, completely consumed by the magic. A few though, came out stronger. Instead of being consumed by the flames, they had somehow consumed the flames, magic now flowing through their veins.

Even then, the magic inside of wielders fought against their vessels, constantly trying to escape. The ring you wore helped you control the magic inside, absorbing some of the power and trapping the rest of the flames within you, where it couldn't escape and grow any stronger. But every time you took off the ring, you unintentionally let the magic grow, and when it finally returns back to you, the fight inside gets a little tougher.

Normally, it didn't affect you much. You had been trained since childhood to control the magic, so you could go hours with continuous magic use without any major repercussion. But the past month, you had really tested your bounds, toeing the limits of your control. This inevitably degraded your mental state, leaving your mind a little hazy. This meant you were a lot more impulsive and less observant, something that played in favor to SHIELD's trap. You knew you shouldn't have taken the hit on Tony, especially due to your exhaustion, but you had let your excitement of possibly seeing Natasha blind you. Nevertheless, the current situation didn't really worry you anyways, although you made a note to deal with a problem later.

"And why wasn't I informed of this?" Natasha pressed on.

"Don't take it personally. You're area of skills weren't required for the job, so you weren't informed. Simple as that." Tony plainly stated, clearly sensing the Russian's agitation.

You had to stifle your laughter at the irony. If Natasha had been assigned to the case earlier, you probably would've been captured much sooner.

Natasha bit the inside of her cheek, obviously deep in thought as well. " Release him, (Y/N)." She finally said and you happily obliged, but not sliding you ring back on, letting the flames surround you in a hazy aura incase you needed to react to any threats. Tony let out of breathe of relief as your magic retreated, but you could see that he was still a bit shaken up, the effects not fully wearing off.

"Hey are you alright darling?" You asked concernedly, ignoring the wobbling man when you caught Natasha looking a little pale. Walking over to where she was, you reached out a hand to lightly caress her cheek, the flames retreating as it reached her. You hesitated for a split second, unsure of how she would react, but Natasha leaned into your touch. Her eyes met yours. It was the same bright green that you dreamt about, and they looked even more dazzling up close. She smiled up at you and it was like all the years you've spent apart hadn't happened.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She whispered reassuringly and you smiled too in relief. “ What does Fury want with the (Y/N)?” She asked Tony, but her eyes didn't leave you.

“ The same thing we do to all threats. We either eliminate or imprison them .” He answered, voice indifferent.

Natasha turned to him, much to your dismay, “Why can’t we accept them into SHIELD?” she offered instead.

Tony, who had thought your weird relationship with Natasha was the strangest thing that could happen, couldn't believe what he was hearing. “You want to let an assassin into our ranks? Are you crazy?! Did you already get your hands on the vodka shelf?” He stammered.

Natasha gave him a dark look, one that sent a chill of excitement down your spine, “I was an assassin too Tony.”

Tony didn’t seem to know how to respond to that, but he didn’t need to. The door to the room swung opened again, this time a larger blonde man marching in. You recognized him from your intel: Steve Rogers-Captain America. Behind him, you saw several heavily armed agents behind him, their guns trained on you.

Natasha whipped around at the sudden intrusion, surprise flashing across her face. " Steve." She said warningly, noticing the same things you did, but Steve didn't let her finish, already throwing out his shield in attack. The metal was launched at you, cutting through the air faster than the eyes could follow.

You easily caught it, magic stopping it mid-flight.

You sighed at his pathetic attempt, " Mr. Rogers, don't you know it's rude to interrupt? You can't just come in here, guns blazing, and shield flying." You reprimanded, lazily throwing the shield back to the man. Steve tried to catch the shield, but was knocked back by the sheer force of your throw. The men immediately behind him stumbled back in shock as the 6'1 super solider crashed into them. Those who were left standing quickly recovered and upon realizing that their first line of attack had been beaten, prepared to shoot. They found themselves unable to. Fear had crept up on them during the ruckus and now they were unable to move as your magic seeped through them. With a simple wave of your hand, the black flames around you attacked and within seconds, all the agents, including Cap, dropped to the floor.

"What?" Tony gasped in horror, and for the first time, he seemed to truly understand the extent of your power.

"Relax, they're not dead. I just knocked them out for-" You pretended to check your wrist for a watch, " -a while. I don't know, I usually don't wait around for the people I knock out to wake back up."

Natasha was staring in shock at the pile of bodies by the door and you saw something indistinguishable in her eyes. A distinct chime echoed off the walls of the room, drawing your attention to your phone in the corner. You walked over to it, Tony looking like he wanted to stop you but was too terrified to. Picking it up, you read the message silently. Shouting could be heard getting louder, footsteps pounding towards you as alarms blared.

"Looks like that's my cue to leave." You announced to Natasha and Tony. " Sorry to cut our reunion short Talia."

Natasha stepped forward, blinking out of her shock. "(Y/N) wait-!" She began.

"Don't worry, I think I'll be staying a little bit longer in New York. We'll see each other soon my love." You promised, picking up one of the fallen agent's guns and shooting out the lights until you were enveloped in pitch darkness. Then, before the backup agents could arrive, you melted away into the shadows.

///

You emerged from a dark alleyway in some shifty part of the Bronx. Pulling out your phone, you replied to Matt, your associate, declining the new job he had sent over, informing him that you would be taking a vacation for a while.

Seeing Natasha had reminded you of how much you actually missed her, and you didn't want to just leave New York yet, not when you barely had the chance to catch up with your lover.

But first, you had a snitch to catch. Someone had tipped off SHIELD about you. Someone who knew you about your power at that. You couldn't let someone so dangerous live.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------Powers of Reader [Will be updated as more information is learned about Reader]

-Ability to set fear in opponents

-Ability to melt into shadows (teleportation like: goes into one shadow, pops up somewhere else)

-Magic flames that kill people(?) and knocks them out(?)

-Major simp for Natasha (special skill)

[turnscote]

An AU where Luke was telling the truth about why he left and actually kept in touch with you.

Pair: Luke/MC Rating: G Word count: 1310 Synopsis: As much as you wanted to believe that nothing was going to change, it was inevitable. There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact.

Also on AO3.

It was perhaps late spring or early summer. You could remember how your nose was mildly itchy from the pollen as you found him sitting by the windowsill yet again. The breeze had felt warm, and the trees outside were rustling. It was supposed to be just like any other day until you heard the news that Luke will be moving away. In a week, nonetheless. It was surprising, but it wasn't entirely unexpected. Luke has always been a genius. You often teased him for being a nerd (affectionately, of course, to which he'd respond with a pout, and, oh, of course, you just had to pinch his cheek). Why wouldn't the National Central University, the country's top university, want him?

Promises were made. You're free to read Luke's Sherlock Holmes collection that he left at his parents' house. You'd call. You'd keep each other updated, about your lives, about your reading progress on his books, about all the food the capital has to offer. His moving away isn't going to change anything. You'd take good care of yourselves, even without having the other around, even without Luke chasing off any geese who would harass you, even without you apologizing to the grumpy neighborhood grandpa for the ruckus Luke had made. You two were going to be just fine. Right?

As much as you wanted to believe that nothing was going to change, it was inevitable. There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact. You know that. You sighed and closed Luke's copy of The Boscombe Valley Mystery. Ever since the age of five, Luke's presence has always been a constant in your life. Now you're left anxiously waiting for him to call.

Luke had told you earlier this morning that he'd be rather busy today, what with all the classes he got, and he's not even done with settling in. Despite his tight schedule, he still managed to take the time to text you several times throughout the day. Luke sent a picture of the egg sandwich he had for lunch. Apparently, he was in a rush in between classes, and the meal from the convenience store was all he could manage. He then complained about how it wasn't enough for him, how he regretted not getting more.

He promised he'd call once he's done with one of his assignments. You weren't expecting it to take this long. It was past 10 already. You had finished your homework hours ago, and that's why you're left in the state you are now. Laying in bed, The Boscombe Valley Mystery still sitting on your chest because you couldn't be bothered to get up and put it away. Is college that much harder? Luke must have been exhausted by now. Not wanting to keep him up just so that you could talk to him, you decided to text him to wish him luck on his work and that you two can just call some other time when he's less busy. You considered adding a cute sticker of a bunny with pom-poms but decided against it. You're a high school student now. Using stickers seems kind of childish and silly, doesn't it?

You finally got up, put the book away, and went to the bathroom to wash up before bed. By the time you came back, you notice your phone screen lighting up, informing you of a missed call from Luke. You hurriedly dialled him back. Within two rings, you finally heard his voice.

"Hey." There wasn't much energy to his voice. "Did I keep my Watson waiting?"

As odd as it may be, despite you never going anywhere and staying in Stellis, hearing Luke's voice made you feel like you're finally home once again.

"You're busy, Luke. I understand. You could have gone to bed right away, you know?" It really wasn't a big deal. Sure, you missed him, but you'd rather have Luke be well-rested.

"Oh, uh, well," you could hear a nervous chuckle from the other end of the line. "I'm not done with work yet, actually. It's much harder than I had anticipated." A pause. "I just wanted to make sure I could hear how your day was before you go to bed," his voice softened.

You let out a long sigh. Luke putting yourself over his own wellbeing. That's one thing that hasn't changed, huh? You couldn't admit that you thought that he was being very sweet and that you're honestly happy about it. You can't enable this behavior of his, can you? He seriously needs to put himself first.

"Okay, we'll make this quick then. You really need to take better care of yourself, Luke. Make sure you get enough rest."

"Alright, alright, I get it."

This is how it's always been. You two worrying and nagging each other, to the point that it may seem overbearing.

"So, the braised pork granny made for lunch, we still got plenty of leftovers left, so we also had that for dinner." You could hear Luke groaning in jealousy. Granny's braised pork was great. "I also read a bit of The Boscombe Valley Mystery."

"Oh! How are you liking it so far?" Luke clearly perked up at that.

"I haven't gotten very far yet, but I'm curious to see how they're going to prove James' innocence. All the evidence seems to be pointing at him right now."

A hearty laugh. Oh, how you love the sound of it. "You'll soon see, my dear Watson."

It's Luke's voice. It's clear it's Luke's voice. You'd recognize his voice anywhere. It's just, it doesn't sound the same over phone calls. Obviously, there's the slight noise, it's not a bother, but you do miss how clear his voice sounds in person. There's also the fact that his voice doesn't sound as deep, but that's fine, this is fine, it can't be helped. You're just glad you could still hear his voice to begin with. You're glad he'd make time for you instead of making you feel like you're left behind.

"How about you, Luke?" you asked. "What are you working on?"

"Oh, it's just some stuff on engineering chemistry. I also had to review some stuff for my engineering physics class tomorrow."

Science has never been your best subject, so when Luke explained further all the things he had to do, you were honestly feeling a bit lost. You loved hearing him talk about it so giddily, though. It reminds you of all the times when you'd have a nightmare disrupt your sleep and Luke would come over to your room and tell you the lamest science facts to distract you and get you back to sleep.

Luke seems to have noticed your quieter yeahs and mms to his stories. "Hey, you should sleep." You couldn't see it, but you got his gentle smile perfectly imprinted in your mind. That's probably how he looks right now.

"Sure, but," normally you'd be too embarrassed to ask for something like this. But you're too sleepy and you can't think straight so you went ahead with it, "Is it okay if we stay on the phone like this?"

It took a while for Luke to respond, but he finally said, "What do you mean?" as if in disbelief of what you're asking of him. That's fair. It is a ridiculous request, after all. It almost makes you want to take back what you just said. Almost. It must be all the K-drama you've been watching.

"You can get back to work, and I can go sleep, we just leave the call on."

"Alright," Luke said. "We can do that."

As you settled in bed, you could hear him tenderly say, "Good night, my dearest Watson."

This is nice too, you thought. Things aren't the same, but you two are going to be just fine.

[nothingbutfangirlsmut]

The Girl Out of Time

Pairing: Bucky x Reader and Sam x Reader

Background: Willow Roffe was born and raised in Brooklyn. She lived her life as happily as she could with her two childhood best friends Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers. When they both left her to join the military she tried to continue with life but that didn't get to happen for her for the simple fact that she meant something to James Buchanan Barnes.

Rating: Story will be overall MATURE but not every chapter. There will be strong language, talk of both mental and physical abuse, some good ole angst, and smut. There will be a warning at the beginning of the chapter when it includes smut.

Chapter 33

It took a few days for T'challa to get things arranged for my stay in Wakanda. I stayed in a small room in the same area as the doctors. When arrangements were made I was sent to one of the small villages not far from the palace. They gave me a small hut and appropriate clothing.

A few days after James was frozen I met with Shuri and T'challa. Shuri was looking over scans of what seemed to be James' brain. I stepped in the room clearing my throat to let them know I was there. They both turned to me. Shuri waved me over to them.

"What is this?" I asked gesturing to the screen.

"I've been looking over all of Sergeant Barnes' scans since we froze him." Shuri stated as she turned back to the screen.

"Have you found a way to help him yet?" I asked softly.

Shuri chuckled lightly.

"Not yet I'm afraid. The last thing we want to do is remove all of who he is. His loves, his hates, his quirks. His whole personality." She spoke slowly.

I nodded agreeing with her. We definitely don't want that to happen.

"So what can we do?" I asked folding my arms over my chest.

Shuri sighed as she moved the images on the screen.

"The hardest part is rooting out the extent of his memories that have the greatest amount of control over his physical actions. The ones that have been manipulated due to their deep emotional trauma." She explained.

"Is there anything I can do to actually help you?" I asked her.

"Possibly, we will talk about that later. I need to look over a few more things. For now Sergeant Barnes will dream in peace." She said softly with a glance back to James frozen in his chamber.

A few more days passed as I got aquatinted with my surroundings. The small hut started to feel a little more like home even if I was alone. Most nights I laid awake listening to the sounds around me picturing the day James would be unfrozen. The day we could help him and maybe, just maybe, we could live a quiet normal life here.

I sighed as I sat outside the sun. I pulled out the small phone Shuri had given me in case I wanted to contact Steve. She said this would always make sure our calls were secure. I pressed it to my ear as it started to ring.

"Willow" Steve's deep sleep filled voice answered.

I chuckled softly.

"Sorry Captain, didn't realize you'd be asleep." I said jokingly.

He groaned.

"No, it's okay. Everything alright?" He asked.

"Yea, Shuri is looking over scans trying to figure out the best way to help Jamie without wiping out everything that he is." I told him simply.

"Sounds like she has her hands full." His voice sounded stiff.

"Yea it does. I'm not much help right now either." I grumbled.

"You will be Willow." Steve said reassuringly.

"You sound so sure of that." I chuckled lightly.

"Because I am. You may not be much help when it comes to the science but Shuri is a genius she can handle that much. When Buck wakes up and the first thing he sees is you standing there, trust me, that will make all the difference. You always made the difference for him." Steve explained.

"Thanks Stevie. I'll give you another call later." I said quietly.

"Sure, get some rest Willow." He yawned.

I hung up the phone then made my way into the hut. Maybe tomorrow I could find something to be useful.

A few more days passed. I had been here for almost a month now. I was at the water's edge cleaning some of the clothing for myself and the villagers. Some of the kids were running back and forth behind me chasing each other.

"Alright, alright" the familiar female's voice laughed from behind me.

I turned to see Shuri shooing the kids back towards the huts. She chuckled at them then sat down next to me in the grass.

"Cleaning clothes?" She asked raising a brow.

"Needed something to do." I shrugged.

"I think I might know a way you can help with Barnes." She said suddenly but softly.

I stopped cleaning to look her in the eyes. My eyes held the question I was thinking. I didn't have to ask it.

"I just want to ask a few questions first." She says with a small smile.

I nodded then turned back to the cloth in my hands.

"You've known Barnes most of your life, correct?" She asked.

"Since 1930. Almost a hundred years now.” I chuckled softly.

“What was something that always sparked him with anger?” She asked.

I didn’t hesitate to answer.

“Bullies. Mainly to Steve, even me sometimes.” I told her.

She nodded then chewed on her lip for a moment.

“What about things that made him exceptionally happy?” She questioned.

I paused my work for a moment. There had been plenty of times I’d seen him at his happiest. But it was on all different occasions. It was all completely different circumstances. The only thing that was ever the same in each moment was us.

“Me and Steve” I whispered in realization.

Shuri smiled at me like she already knew I was gonna say that.

“His best friends. Makes sense.” She nodded.

“How does any of this help?” I asked her.

She stood up brushing the grass off her clothes.

“I need to know his triggers before I start any kind of work on him. I especially needed to know the good triggers. Those will be the most important.” She said as she looked out over the water.

She gently squeezed my shoulder then walked away back towards the palace. I continued my cleaning loosing myself in the action of it. I just had to keep myself busy. Pass the time until I could see James again. When I finished the clothing I hung them on the line to dry. It was late evening so I retired to my hut.

It wasn’t until about a month and a half later that Shuri had completed her work. In that time she had asked me countless questions. I pretty much told her our entire life story. When she did finally tell me she was finished she had asked me to come to the lab to go over a few things. Most of what she said sounded like a different language to me.

“I’ve been doing small doses for about a week. We just did the last one yesterday. From the look of his brain activity it all looks great. The verbal triggers have been erased but it is possible there are other triggers we don’t know about. We will just have to wait and see.” Shuri explained to both me and T’Challa.

“So what exactly does that mean?” I asked her.

“It means we’re gonna wake him up.” She said with a large grin.

My heart fluttered at her words. This was it. The past three months had felt like an eternity but it was all going to be worth it very soon. I stood next to T’Challa as Shuri and her crew got to work defrosting James. My heart was beating erratically. All I could think about was seeing his eyes. Hearing his voice. Once he was out of the chamber and color started to come back to his skin he was moved down to my hut. Shuri explained he should be awake within a few hours and she’d be back then. So I made sure he was comfortable on the makeshift bed after dressing him in the clothing Shuri had given me. Then I sat next to him to wait.

—

[frenchlangdon]

Late Night Louisiana Pt. 7

Summary: It’s late 19th century, Y/N moves to Louisiana to learn more about vampires. But what happens when she finds one likely creature of the night at Porterhollow Cemetery?

LNL Masterlist

Pairing: Vampire!bucky x reader

Warning: brief mention of rape

"About earlier. That kiss. I'm not trying to start anything. I'm— there's— I'm no good at relationships. It would only end up in a mess." I said. I sat down on the chair in my kitchen

It's true, I've had a couple of men along the way, the relationships almost always end in disaster.

And I don't know if it was me or them. It always felt like it was my fault, they were always sure to tell me it was my fault.

"What are you feeling?" He sat down in one of the chairs next to me.

"Confused."

"About what?"

"I really like you. And I want to know more about you. And I want to be your friend, I really do. But I can't be harboring feelings for you. And you can't do the same either. It would just make us miserable."

"So you're saying that you feel the same way, you just don't want to be with me? Is it because of what I am? Is it because I scare you?"

"You are the most kind and gentle man I've ever met. You don't scare me, not one bit. I just think we'd be better off as friends."

"I can't just make them go away. The feelings, I mean. It's not like I can just make them vanish. But if you wish to just be friends, then we shall just be friends."

"We've only known each other for two days, you know." I chuckled, I stare into his eyes.

"You should know I don’t like everybody I meet. I don’t trust just anybody. You’re different, I can sense it. I can connect with very few people and have this feeling like I've known them my whole life, you're one of those people. I feel drawn to you. You're magnificent and kind. And you're very beautiful."

"Will you protect me, Wreck?"

"Of course, Y/N."

"Will you always tell me the truth?"

"Always."

"Will you tell me your name? You’re real name?" He hesitated for a moment.

"You already know it. James. James Buchanan Barnes, but back then friends called me Bucky." A small smile crept up on his lips.

"I should've known! You said it so quickly, I thought you might've known someone with that name or your alias."

"Will you tell me some of the stories you've heard about me?"

"Well no ones knows much about you, the stories are very vague. Most of the towns whores say you've slept with them, took the bandana off when you did the deed, some said you had honey brown eyes and other says emerald green eyes. Said you kept coming back for more." I bit my lip as I tried to hold in laughter.

"That's odious!" He scrunched his face up and physically cringed. "No. I haven't laid with a woman in decades. It's crossed my mind many a nights, but, no. Never. I could never sleep with one of those women. Nothing against who they are, just wouldn't want to catch something."

My eyes widen at the last sentence and he laughed.

"Have you ever laid with a man before?"

My body stiffened at the question, he was blunt and straight to the point. But the question reminded me of something I tried to forget every single day. "Yeah. I have." I looked down to my hands that were resting on the table. I traced shapes on the smooth surface, trying to keep my mind from those formidable memories. "Did I upset you?" He asked. He leaned down trying to look at my face.

"No. Just, I've um, l-laid with one man, uh, it was a terrible experience." I look to the the ground where my feet were. "Did he..."

"Yeah. He did." I whispered. My whole body felt uneasy, saying the words out loud was torture for me.

I had gotten drunk one night and a man took me to his house, against my will. I woke up the next morning and didn’t know what had happened the night before and I was feeling incredibly sore.

As the months went by I remembered certain things, terrible, awful things.

"My darling, I'm sorry. We don't have to carry on with this conversation. I can't imagine how it's affected you." He lays his hand on top of my hand that rests on the table, causing me to flinch.

The only thing I can do is nod, and I barely manage to do that.

"You've shown me such kindness over the past two days. I appreciate that, I truly do. In return, if you would, I'd like to stay with you. To protect you, from the evil of this world. Only if you would allow it. If you wish for me to be gone, then I'll be gone within seconds. I can see a great friendship unfolding if you let me stay."

I stare at him in disbelief, "I'd love for you to stay, I do get lonely here by myself sometimes but wouldn't you get tired of me after awhile?" I chuckled. "I mean you'd get bored for sure, I'm not an interesting gal."

"That's not true. You're very interesting, you can read, not a lot of women around here can read, well back then at least. I don't know about now."

"Well I'm sure there are more women around here that can read. But enough about that! What would you like to do the rest of the day?"

Truth be told, I hate talking about myself or of any subject that involves me, call it an insecurity, but for me I just hate being the topic of discussion.

"Why don't we go back to the lake?" He said.

"Yeah sure! Do you want to go for a swim?"

"I don't have anything to swim in." His brows furrowed and his lips frowned. I can't lie, he looked really cute.

"I'll buy you something." I beamed.

"I can't let you do that." He argued.

I stood up from the chair and walked to the door.

"You need a new set of clothes anyways, you can't wear the same outfit you've worn for the past couple decades." I playfully winked at him. I walked out of the house, he followed behind me.

On the way to the shop, we talked a little bit about everything, the sea, the outlaws he stayed with for a bit. It's so easy talking to him. He doesn't make you feel inferior or anything close like that. Nowadays people are so egotistical if they have a silver spoon. It's truly disgusting.

We make it to the shop and Wanda greets us.

"Y/N! Good evening!" She flashed her beautiful smile. "And who might this be?" She asked.

"This is Bucky, a friend from Texas. He's come down here to live with me."

Bucky walks closer to Wanda and shakes her hand. "Pleasure to meet you, miss." She nodded, her smile widened. "Pleasure to meet you, too, Bucky."

I got a couple outfits for him, he was a very picky shopper, at the end we got him black trousers and a couple tan and white long sleeve shirts. Nothing too fancy, he said.

I packed the new clothes in my leather bag and bid Wanda goodbye, we made our way to the lake.

"Isn't it just beautiful?" I said, we sat down on the sand, I set the bag down in between us. "It is, I've missed the water." He let out a sigh and kept his eyes on the moving water. "Why didn't you ever come down here?"

"I did, every couple a years, I don't know why I stayed in the cemetery for so long. I felt like it was the safest place for me."

"Why is that?"

"Because the dead can't judge you."

"I'll never judge you, y’know." I grabbed his hand intertwining it with mine, I brought the back of his hand up to my lips, gently kissing it.

We sat in silence after that. It was a moment I'll never forget. The sun was setting, the remainder of the sun reflecting off the water, the muffled music from across the street inside the tavern, the sounds of nature.

"You know, this is my favorite time of the day. When everything is winding down. It's so peaceful, and the sun isn't too harsh, it's perfect. I call it late night Louisiana. Has a ring to it, don't it?"

"It sure does, sugar." His lips curved upwards into a smile. His smile. How have I never noticed how perfect it was? His eyes crinkle whenever he smiles. Why is his face so perfect? Maybe being with him wouldn't be such a bad idea...

"Do you want to become human again? Fully human, I mean. With no abilities."

"I'd give anything to be normal again. Anything." He withdrew his hand from mine and looked down to the sand. "Maybe we can visit the voodoo shop tomorrow, they have elixirs in there, we can see what they have. Nobody ever buys their potions and elixirs because of your story."

He shrugged and lifted his head back up to look at me. Sadness deep in his eyes, laced with longing. "What if none of them work?"

"Well, we'll find out once we get there, won't we?"

"I guess."

I hugged his torso, "Let's go to the tavern."

We both get up and dust the sand off of our bodies. I grabbed my bag and we were off to the tavern across the street.

Bucky and I go inside and he orders the both of us a beer. I catch Steve walking past the windows of the tavern. I jump off the bar stool and turn to Bucky, "I have to go outside real quick. I'll be right back." I run out of the tavern and holler for Steve.

He stopped in his tracks and turned around. I walk up to him. "Hey stranger. Did you buy that book, that Stark's Amazing Finds?"

"I did, why?" He raised a brow and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well I was wanting to show Bucky what a walrus and a seal looked like. I was wondering maybe I could borrow it for a day." He scoffed and looked to the side, he kicked a rock with his boot.

"Why didn't you ever mention him to me?" Steve asked. "I guess I forgot to tell you about him."

"Y/N, we tell each other everything it at least that's what I thought. Why didn't you tell me he was moving in with you?"

"Steve, I just forgot. I'm sorry. Why do you care so much? It's not really a big deal."

"He said you were getting lonely livin all by yourself, why didn't you ask me to move in? I would‘ve."

He stepped closer. "I didn't think you'd want to live with me. You hate it when I talk about vampires. I can only imagine you getting frustrated with me everyday because I'm so focused on finding that damned vampire." I leaned against the outside brick wall of the tavern. I look up to Steve, he was up against the brick wall, staring at the water. The orange glow of the sun shone on his face, his blue eyes were even brighter, if possible.

"I would've learned to deal with it." He said, he turned his body towards me.

Nothing else was said. We were both staring into each other's eyes. He wanted to say something, I could feel it in my bones. “What is it?” I asked.

“I wanted to tell you something. It’s really important.” He started fidgeting, beads of sweat were on his forehead.

“Hey, you can tell me anything. You know that.” I smiled and intertwined our hands together. “Uh... Bruce is coming back into town.”

“Oh...” I let out a shaky breath, my heart was beating out my chest. It felt like somebody had knocked the wind outta me. “Do we know when he’s supposed to be here?”

“Sometime next week.”

“Next week?”

“Yeah, next week.”

“Is he— is he bringing...”

“Yeah. She’s coming too.”

[webspherecommercecompetitio-blog]

Promote your items with the help of Instagram

Wanna get new customers?

Have you ever tried out using Instagram?

Instagram delivers fifteen circumstances a terrific offer far more engagement than Fb, Twitter or Google+. What was after an easy photograph sharing computer software has grown to be a vital income stream channel.

On this writeup, you're going to learn the way you can use Instagram to attain model identify title recognition and achieve new clients.

Below I share a couple of techniques you will be ready to uncover or attract in men and women individuals and insert them using your present admirer foundation.

Learn how to work with Instagram to advertise your goods.

13 for every cent of net customers have Instagram accounts. Also, a wonderful offer much more than fifty percent of the world’s key 100 makers are on Instagram. Your consumersare perhaps there concurrently.

Underneath I share numerous techniques, you may be ready to track down or draw in individuals folks and insert them in your existing admirer basis.

one. Encompass Audience-Specific Hashtags

Hashtags certainly may be a strategy of team suggestions, recommendations or negotiations. They allow it to be straightforward for people to hunt out other people who're placing up about topic places they can be obsessed with.

By like the suitable hashtags in your updates, you can be completely ready to productively accomplish new gentlemen and girls taking into account your items. The real key is often to use hashtags that not just clarify your photos and organization, but also can be energetically searched for and utilized on Instagram.

Hashtags assist folks in uncovering you on Instagram.

Do a fast search for to hunt out primarily one of the most popular hashtags pertinent in your merchandise or assist.

Use individuals lists to return yet again up jointly using the major 10-20 hashtags that relate within your organization, model identify and items and location them within a recognize inside your individual mobile. Like that you will be in a situation to make reference to them irrespective of just the area you come about to become submitting from.

two. Use the best Filters

Most of the people genuinely tend not to take into account about how Instagram filters result in perseverance we just use what we anticipate would seem excellent and set up absent. It looks the filter you take advantage of may well influence the common discussion.

TrackMaven just currently exposed an overview that situated photos with each other using the Mayfair filter, no filter or maybe the Inkwell filter accomplished up with way more likes and remarks.

Photographs with probably the Mayfair filter or no filter acquire the most engagement.

Certainly, everyone’s viewers are relatively assorted. I advocate experimenting with distinctive filters and utilizing an Instagram administration technique that will support you see which someone is most favored using your community.

three. Spot up at Peak Activities

The same as all social networking sites, being aware of when your community is virtually definitely to have conversation aids you choose on primarily essentially the most effectual the right time to publish. IconoSquare has an optimization report that identifies the very best times so you can update based mostly on your previous distributing heritage and engagement.

The report demonstrates black circles symbolizing the times you are presently distributing and light-gray circles symbolizing the aim of dialogue these posts be introduced. Probably essential light-gray circles depict the perfect times so you can post based on your followers’ engagement.

Maintain observe of when followers are most energetic and area up at men and women moments.

The situation in excessive of is taken all through the Shopify Instagram account. You will be ready to see which the excellent distributing moments on this distinct distinctive particular circumstance are Friday at 9pm and Monday at 9am, extremely.

4. Interact With Competitors’ Followers

Anyone subsequent your competitor’s Instagram account is somebody you want to chat to. You have to inform them close to your (higher) website, service provider or merchandise, acceptable?

Gentlemen and girls customers have presently recognized a curiosity in addition to your objects just by adhering to your competitor’s account. Getting and interacting with them boosts the two your amount of followers and competent capable potential customers.

You are going to learn several products that may help you discover your competitors’ followers. Becoming an occasion, use JustUnfollow to search around for your competitors’ Instagram accounts by title and it provides you a summary of every single solitary gentleman or female who follows them. With that checklist in hand, start partaking employing your new possible customers follow them and like or remark on one amongst their pictures.

5. Have out With Well-liked Instagrammers

One amongst the most effectual tactics to enhance your Instagram neighborhood is common to the situation a heavy-hitter using your spot of the need to attribute your items. Not like the previous approaches, this a single has a publicity benefit joined with it either payment or sending goods for analysis, but the benefits may be outstanding.

Working with big-time Instagrammers offers your account a have.

Yumbox compensated a widespread foodstuff things blogger and Instagrammer to publish a photograph about the food-filled Yumbox furthermore a hyperlink nevertheless yet again toward the Yumbox Instagram account. That a single post doubled the company’s Instagram subsequent and spiked visitors for their website.

To find the largest accounts with each other together with your region of fascination, use Instagram’s look for objective and sort in essential phrases, hashtags and company names. If you uncover and adhere to a tremendous account, Instagram will source you a listing of associated finish clients you will be ready to alter too.

When you might be completely ready to hook up with someone, take a look at her or his account profile. Normally you might be heading to have the ability to inform swiftly no matter of whether or not an account accepts sponsored posts or objects testimonies. Several folks have a learn that promises they may be effectively geared up to operate with organizations (e.g., “For enterprise inquiries, be sure you email...”).

Instagram helps you discover most likely probably the most well-liked accounts inside your area of curiosity.

If clients do not explicitly say they run with brand names, email them and concern when they do showcase testimonies or sponsored posts and what their guidelines are for every and each option.

The price of sponsored posts or showcased testimonies relies upon on around the choice of factors like market and viewers measurement. Normally, the linked charge is pretty nominal as when compared to other throughout the web selling, and advertising and marketing selections and these partnerships cause enhanced engagement.

Instagram’s engagement price tag is amid the much better of all social websites. Its image-centric mother nature leads by alone to showcasing and marketing items.

When you've got create big capable viewers and obtained truly feel in and loyalty, it truly is time and electrical power to adapt browsers to purchasers. Detailed below are 3 methods you can commence.

one. Emphasize Lack

Lack pertains to offer and require the significantly considerably less there is of a single concern, the greater people want it. Retailers and entrepreneurs often physical exercise this common idea by suggesting that items or discounted fees will only final for that modest time.

Fox & Fawn, a New York retailer of vintage clothes, uses an ingenious technique of increasing engagement and money stream with each other using the lack tactic.

Deficiency is an effectual technique to transfer followers into purchasers.

The store usually posts some photographs for everyday showing their present stock. Since objects are vintage, there usually exists a minimal stock. When followers see anything at all in any respect they like, they need to the area down a remark to safeguard the items. Then the user calls in with their credit card information and Instagram find out to full the purchase.

Beverly Hames of Fox & Fawn suggests that 20-40% of daily earnings now show up from their Instagram viewers.

two. Spotlight New Items

Your Instagram profile is a key channel for direct advertising and marketing moreover an excellent strategy to show off your new products.

Packer Shoes has determined a healthy Instagram viewers of 54,000 followers and highlights new and special items to force a lot more cash flow.

How successful has this tactic been for Packer Shoes? Owner Michael Packer states, “We can recognized anything at all in any way up on Instagram and not two seconds later, the phone is ringing off the hook.”

three. Highlight Social Proof

Social proof is an effective psychological phenomenon by which individuals presume the actions of other folks reflect the right behavior for almost any provided predicament. For instance, if your friends or family recommend a merchandise, you are a lot more most likely to select that merchandise greater than another.

One particular specified pair of leggings in their store has significantly much more 160 pages of user-generated photos. When any person visits the web page, men and women photographs are strong visual social proof that encourages them to purchase the items.