#thanks to everyone for liking/replying/reblogging my art :)

[theetherealbloom]

IT COULD HAPPEN TO YOU - CH.1

Chapter One: Hide Your Heart From Sight

Summary: You find yourself sharing a hotel suite with Pedro Pascal while working on the set of Fantastic Four: First Steps. Despite your different roles—he’s the star, and you’re behind the scenes. Nothing could ever happen between you two… right?

Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Age-Gap Romance (Not Specified), Eventual SMUT, Crush, FLUFF, Slight Angst, Trope(s), Swearing, Anxiety, Lots of Cliches, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Paparazzi, Social Media, Swoonworthy, One-Room Trope, They were roommates, Strangers-to-Lovers, Actors, Hallmark Tropes, the reader can sing and play guitar, the reader is shorter than Pedro, the reader has hair, Alternate Universe, Awkward!Reader, Shy!Reader, Fan Girl!Reader, Cringe, Embarrassment, Celebrities, Starstruck,

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: Welcome to this disaster of a fic that I have constantly daydreamed about. Logistically, yes, it is so improbable and unrealistic— but there’s a 0.001% chance that it could happen… to you. It’s nice to wonder and dream. I like wondering. Granted, I’ve never worked in production ever… I am studying advertising and arts soooo that’s as much knowledge I have tehe. 

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: It Could Happen To You by Laufey

→ Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist |

The hum of the plane’s engines filled the air as you settled into your seat, trying not to fidget. You glanced at your boarding pass again, as if to double-check you weren’t hallucinating. Seat 3B—business class. Marvel had spared no expense for the production team’s travel, but you still couldn’t quite believe you’d be flying so comfortably.

What shocked you even more, though, was the man lowering himself into the seat next to yours: Pedro Pascal. Yes, that Pedro Pascal. The man whose movies you’d watched obsessively before joining this production, the actor who somehow seemed both unattainably larger-than-life and heartbreakingly down-to-earth.

“Hi,” he said with a warm smile, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners. “Looks like we’re seatmates.”

You froze for a moment, then managed a weak, “Hi.” Your heart hammered against your ribcage as you mentally scrambled for something to say that wouldn’t make you sound like a complete idiot.

“You’re with the crew, right?” Pedro asked, adjusting the scarf around his neck. “What do you do?”

“Oh, um,” you stammered, “I’m just a production assistant. It’s my first big project.”

“No kidding? That’s awesome,” he said, genuinely sounding impressed. “First time working on a Marvel movie? How’s it going so far?”

“It’s… surreal,” you admitted, relaxing slightly under his easygoing demeanor. “I mean, it’s been amazing, but also kind of overwhelming. There’s so much to do, and everyone’s so talented. I…” You trailed off, realizing you were rambling.

“I get it,” Pedro said, nodding. “First big gig can be a lot. But hey, you’re here. That means someone saw something in you, right?”

The sincerity in his voice made your cheeks flush. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

The conversation flowed easily after that. Pedro asked you about your favorite movies, your hobbies, and how you’d gotten into production work. You told him about your love for art direction and set design, your dream of one day being a production designer, and your side passion for writing and music. When you mentioned you played guitar and sang, he raised an eyebrow.

“You’ll have to play something for us on set sometime,” he said, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

You laughed nervously. “I don’t know about that. I’d probably die of embarrassment.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” he replied, his tone light but mischievous.

By the time the plane landed, you were buzzing—partly from the conversation and partly from the fact that you’d just spent hours talking to Pedro Pascal as if he were an old friend.

The buzz quickly faded when you arrived at the hotel. You stood in the lobby with the rest of the crew, listening as the location manager, Duncan, argued with the front desk staff. Apparently, there’d been a mix-up with the bookings. The hotel was overbooked due to a telecommunications conference, and somehow, you’d been assigned to share a suite… with Pedro Pascal.

“This has to be a mistake,” you muttered to yourself, your anxiety spiking as Duncan tried to sort things out. But no matter how much back-and-forth there was, the conclusion remained the same: there were no other rooms available.

“Look,” Pedro said finally, stepping in with his usual calm demeanor. “It’s fine. I don’t mind sharing if she’s okay with it.”

You blinked up at him, your mind racing. “I…”

“Hey,” he said gently, noticing your hesitation. He leaned in slightly, his voice soft but steady. “Look at me. I’m okay with it if you’re okay with it. No pressure.”

You swallowed hard, glancing over at Duncan, who looked as stressed as you felt. Finally, you nodded. “I’m fine with it if everyone else is.”

“Great,” Pedro said, flashing you a reassuring smile. “It’s settled, then.”

Duncan pulled you aside before you headed to the elevators. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” he asked, his tone fatherly.

“Yes,” you said, forcing a smile. “Is there any kind of form I need to sign, or…?”

“No, it all falls under the NDA from your employment,” he assured you. “But seriously, if you need anything, just text me.”

You thanked him and joined Pedro in the elevator. The ride up to the suite was silent, save for the soft dinging of the floors passing by. When you finally stepped into the room, you couldn’t help but gape. It was a spacious suite with two bedrooms on opposite sides, a small kitchenette, and a cozy living area.

“This isn’t so bad,” Pedro said, dropping his bag by the door. He turned to you, his expression kind. “Do you have a preference for which room?”

You fidgeted with the strap of your bag. “Um, no, you can pick.”

“Ladies’ choice,” he insisted, his tone playful.

“Okay,” you said, gesturing to the room on the right. “I’ll take that one.”

“Perfect,” he said with a grin. “Let me know if you need anything, alright?”

As you unpacked in your room, the reality of the situation began to sink in. You were sharing a suite with Pedro Pascal. For at least a week. And somehow, you had to act like a normal, functioning human being the entire time.

You took a deep breath and flopped over on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Letting out a huff of air in disbelief, you muttered to yourself, “This has to be some sort of dream… or prank, right?”

Placing both hands over your face, you rubbed it in exasperation. “Get your shit together, girl. No screwing things up, no more internal freakouts. He’s a person, like you. Mhm, sure. Yup. Totally fine.”

You sighed deeply, trying to convince yourself of your own words. The suite was spacious and nicely furnished, with plenty of room to keep your distance—but that didn’t stop your overactive imagination from running wild. Every interaction felt loaded with the possibility of embarrassing yourself, but you swore you’d keep it together.

To say people around the production crew had heard about your new roomie was an understatement.

The day before shooting began, you attended a pre-production meeting that covered everything: call sheet details, blocking and camera movement, technical requirements, and a bunch of safety protocols. It was standard procedure but felt ten times more overwhelming knowing your friends would tease you mercilessly.

You sat with your friends from the art department, trying to focus, but they weren’t making it easy. Archie, one of the lead set designers, leaned over with a smirk. “So, how’s life as Pedro Pascal’s roomie?”

You felt your face heat up instantly. “I—it’s not… it’s just temporary,” you stammered, fiddling with the edge of your notebook.

Stephanie, a costume designer with an endless supply of sass, raised an eyebrow. “Temporary or not, it’s the stuff of rom-coms, babe. Don’t tell me you haven’t imagined a meet-cute scenario in that suite.”

“I have not!” you protested, though your flaming cheeks betrayed you. 

Will, an art director with a love for stirring the pot, chuckled. “Come on, you’ve gotta admit it’s a little… serendipitous? You, a huge fan, sharing a suite with the guy? Sounds like fate to me.”

“It’s not fate,” you insisted, trying to deflect. “It’s a logistical mistake, that’s all.”

Max, the trainee set dresser, chimed in with a grin. “Yeah, but a logistical mistake that’s got everyone talking. Even Steve heard about it, and he’s usually the last to know anything.”

Steve, the lighting technician, shrugged. “What can I say? Word travels fast. I’m just here to see how long it takes for Pedro to find out about your… fandom.”

“Oh my god, can we not?” you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “He’s going to think I’m a weirdo.”

Rebecca, a fellow production assistant and one of your closest friends, patted your shoulder sympathetically. “Don’t worry, he seems like the kind of guy who’d find it endearing. Besides, you’ve been professional so far, right?”

You nodded hesitantly. “I think so. I mean, I haven’t said anything stupid yet.”

“Yet being the keyword,” Sophie teased, earning a laugh from the group.

Patricia, always the voice of reason, smiled warmly. “Just be yourself. You’re great at your job, and Pedro’s just another actor. A very charming actor, sure, but still just a person.”

“Thanks, Patricia,” you said, feeling slightly more grounded. But the anxiety still lingered, especially with everyone’s teasing reminders of your not-so-secret crush.

As the meeting wrapped up and you headed back to your tasks, you couldn’t shake the nervous excitement bubbling inside you. Sharing a suite with Pedro Pascal might’ve been a logistical mistake, but it was quickly turning into one of the most unreal experiences of your life.

CHILTERN FIREHOUSE HOTEL, LONDON — NIGHT

Dinner with the cast and crew had been lively, filled with laughter, and far too many knowing glances sent your way by your friends. The teasing hadn’t stopped, even over plates of pasta and glasses of wine.

Archie had leaned over at one point, a mischievous glint in his eye. “So, what’s the first thing you’re gonna do when Pedro walks out of the bathroom shirtless? Swoon or faint?”

You nearly choked on your drink. “Archie!”

“I’m just saying,” he said with a laugh. “It’s a valid question.”

Stephanie smirked. “She’s probably rehearsing her ‘I’m totally cool and unaffected’ face right now.”

You groaned. “I hate all of you.”

Rebecca grinned. “No, you don’t. But seriously, just enjoy the moment. How many people can say they’ve shared a hotel room with Pedro Pascal?”

By the time the group had wandered back to the shuttle, your cheeks were sore from laughing, and your nerves were only slightly calmed. But as the cold London air nipped at your skin, you found yourself longing for the warmth of the hotel.

Your teeth chattered as you stepped off the shuttle, clutching your coat tighter around you. You didn’t like the cold very much, and London was very, very cold.

The moment you entered the hotel lobby, the warmth began to seep into your body, and you let out a sigh of relief. The elevator ride to your floor was quiet, your mind finally shutting down after a long evening of socializing. By the time you reached your room, you were operating on autopilot.

Tapping your keycard to the door, you quietly pushed it open, careful not to disturb Pedro if he was already asleep. It was just past 9:30 p.m., and you knew the early call time tomorrow would have him resting early.

You shut the door softly behind you, locking the deadbolt before shuffling into the room. You removed your coat, scarf, and shoes, swapping them for the fuzzy slippers you’d packed. The room was dimly lit, and you moved quietly, hoping not to make too much noise.

“Oh, you’re back.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin, clutching your chest as your heart tried to escape it. Whipping around, you found Pedro lounging on the sofa, a book in his hands and a soft, amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He was wearing a plain white tee and gray sweatpants, his square-framed glasses perched on his nose, and he looked entirely too comfortable—like he belonged there. Like this was normal.

“Oh my god, I didn’t know you were still awake,” you said, voice breathless as you tried to recover from the scare.

He chuckled, his laugh low and warm. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. You were so quiet coming in, I thought maybe you were sneaking around.”

You set your things on the small table by the door, giving him an exasperated look. “I wasn’t sneaking around. I was trying not to wake you.”

“Well, mission accomplished.” He tilted his head, watching you with that relaxed air that somehow made you feel completely exposed. “How was dinner?”

“It was good,” you said, shrugging as you moved toward the kitchenette to grab a bottle of water. “Everyone was in high spirits, and the food was great. We took a little walk around the city before heading back.”

Pedro closed his book, setting it on the coffee table. “Sounds nice. London at night can be magical.”

“Yeah, it was.” You paused, feeling the weight of his gaze. “Though, I think I underestimated just how cold it gets here. My teeth were chattering the whole way back.”

He raised an eyebrow, his smile softening. “Didn’t bring a warm enough coat?”

“I thought I did, but apparently not. I’m not built for this kind of weather,” you admitted with a laugh, wrapping your arms around yourself as if to stave off the lingering chill.

Pedro stood, crossing the room with an easy grace that made your breath hitch. “Well, we can’t have you freezing, can we?” He grabbed the throw blanket draped over the back of the sofa and held it out to you. “Here.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the simple gesture. “Oh, no, it’s fine. I just get cold really easily. Besides, I’ll warm up eventually.”

“Take it,” he insisted, his tone gentle but firm. “It’s not a big deal.”

Reluctantly, you took the blanket, your fingers brushing his for the briefest moment. It sent a jolt of warmth through you that had nothing to do with the fabric now wrapped around your shoulders. “Thanks,” you murmured, pulling it tighter around you.

“Better?” he asked, stepping back to give you space but still watching you with that disarmingly kind expression.

You nodded, trying to ignore the way your heart was pounding. “Much. Thanks, Pedro.”

He smiled again, and for a moment, the air between you felt charged, like something unspoken was hanging there. But then he broke the silence, his voice light. “So, did they give you a hard time at dinner?”

Your face heated instantly. “What do you mean?”

He smirked, leaning casually against the back of the sofa. “I heard some of the cast talking earlier. Apparently, your friends in the art department have been… teasing you about the room situation.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Oh no. What exactly did you hear?”

“Nothing incriminating,” he said with a laugh. “Just that they’re convinced this is some kind of meet-cute scenario straight out of a rom-com.”

You peeked at him through your fingers, mortified. “I’m so sorry. They’re ridiculous.”

“I don’t mind,” he said, his tone easy, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “It’s kind of flattering, actually.”

Your hands dropped to your sides, your eyes wide. “Flattering?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s nice to know someone thinks sharing a room with me is worth all that excitement.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, your brain short-circuiting as you tried to process the fact that Pedro Pascal—Pedro Pascal—was standing in front of you, teasing you in the most charming way possible.

“Well, I’ll let you get some rest,” he said after a beat, his voice softer now. “Big day tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper. “Big day.”

He gave you one last smile before retreating to his side of the suite, leaving you standing there with a racing heart and a head full of thoughts you were too scared to unpack.

PINEWOOD STUDIOS — DAY  

You woke to the soft chime of your alarm, the faint glow of early morning light creeping through the curtains. Shuffling into the bathroom with a yawn, you turned on the shower, letting the warm water coax you into wakefulness. You placed your phone on the counter, tapping on a playlist to fill the small space with soft, melodic tunes—comforting background noise that kept your mind from spiraling too early in the day.  

After your shower, you toweled off and began your morning routine. Skincare applied with practiced ease, makeup brushed on with care, you avoided the mirror for too long, focusing instead on the growing anticipation of the day ahead. Pinning your ID to your lanyard, you glanced at your phone again.  

The group chat with your team was buzzing:  

Archie: "We’re fifteen minutes out. Don’t keep us waiting, queen 👑."  

Rebecca: "Text when you’re coming down!"  

Max: "Coffee run? Pls? 🙏"  

A small smile tugged at your lips as you tapped out a quick reply, your fingers hovering over the keyboard for a moment before you switched apps.  

Your heart did a little stutter as you opened your browser—a Joel Miller fanfic you’d been obsessing over still lingering on your screen. You skimmed the most recent chapter, your thumb pausing to scroll as you half-laughed at the absurdity of sneaking in a few paragraphs before a full day on set. You switched to the chat thread with your online friends, who were deep in a heated discussion about whether Joel would be the type to cook breakfast for his partner. You couldn’t help but chuckle, throwing in a quick, “He’d definitely make pancakes and act like it’s no big deal,” before locking your phone and setting it on the counter.  

Moving on autopilot, you padded into the small kitchenette, barefoot and still humming softly to the tune stuck in your head. You set the coffee machine to brew, pulling out a couple of mugs, a jar of Nutella, and some bread. Your hands moved with muscle memory, spreading the hazelnut spread on toast and slicing up a handful of fruit without a second thought. It wasn’t until the scent of coffee filled the air that you realized you’d made two plates of toast—one for you and one for Pedro.  

The realization struck at the same moment you heard the faint shuffle of footsteps behind you.  

“Morning.”  

His voice was low and warm, still carrying the huskiness of sleep. You froze, phone in one hand, butter knife in the other, as you turned to see Pedro leaning against the doorframe. His hair was adorably tousled, and he was dressed in a plain black t-shirt and sweatpants that somehow made him look effortlessly put together. His eyes crinkled slightly as he smiled at you, and you nearly dropped your phone in a panic.  

“Good morning,” you managed, your voice a little too high-pitched as you fumbled to lock your screen. The thought of him catching even a glimpse of what you’d been reading was enough to make your cheeks burn.  

Pedro glanced at the counter, taking in the toast, coffee, and neatly sliced fruit. “You made breakfast?”  

“Oh, uh—yeah.” You set your phone down and gestured awkwardly toward the spread. “I made you some coffee and toast with Nutella. I wasn’t sure if you’d want that, and there’s fruit, too. I was just about to cut some more, but obviously, you don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to, and—”  

“Hey.” Pedro’s soft chuckle cut through your rambling, and when you met his gaze, he was looking at you with a mix of amusement and something else you couldn’t quite place. “Thank you. That’s really sweet of you.”  

You blinked at him, momentarily stunned by the sincerity in his voice. “Oh. Yeah. No problem. It’s nothing, really.”  

He moved past you to grab a mug of coffee, the proximity sending your pulse into overdrive. As he poured himself a cup, you noticed his shoulders relaxed and his movements unhurried. He took a sip and let out a small, contented sigh.  

“Perfect,” he said, glancing over at you with a grin. “You’re spoiling me, you know that?”  

Your laugh came out nervous and breathy. “I’m pretty sure this doesn’t count as spoiling. It’s just toast.”  

“Yeah, but it’s good toast,” he teased, holding up a slice as if to emphasize his point.  

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, the tension in your chest easing slightly. The moment felt impossibly domestic—like a scene out of one of those fanfics you’d been reading. Only this time, it wasn’t Joel Miller standing in the kitchen with you. It was Pedro.  

And that was somehow even more surreal.  

Pedro leaned against the counter, his mug cradled in both hands. He looked at you like you were the only thing in the room worth paying attention to. “So,” he started, his voice warm and casual, “what were you so engrossed in on your phone earlier? You looked ready to throw it out the window when I walked in.”  

Your stomach flipped, and you tried to play it cool, even though you were fairly certain your face was now several shades of red. “Oh, nothing,” you lied, brushing a crumb off the counter. “Just the group chat. You know how chaotic they are.”  

Pedro tilted his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Mm-hmm. Sure it wasn’t something more... intriguing?”  

You swallowed hard, gripping your coffee cup a little tighter. “Intriguing?”  

He took a sip of his coffee, his eyes twinkling with mischief over the rim of his mug. “You tell me.”  

“It’s nothing!” you blurted out, a little too defensively. “Just—just boring stuff. Work stuff.”  

“Work stuff,” he repeated slowly, clearly unconvinced. “Right. Because people laugh at boring work stuff while making toast.”  

You groaned, setting your mug down as you ran a hand over your face. “Can we not? Please? I’m already mortified enough.”  

Pedro chuckled, the sound low and teasing but not unkind. “Alright, alright. I’ll let it go... for now.” He set his mug on the counter and raised his hands in mock surrender. “But you owe me a story later. Deal?”  

You hesitated, narrowing your eyes at him. “Depends on how much coffee you’ve had by then. I might need you slightly less smug for that conversation.”  

His grin widened, and he leaned closer, just enough to make your heart stutter. “Smug? I prefer charming. But I’ll take it under advisement.”  

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. The playful banter made the room feel lighter, warmer.  

By the time you both finished your coffee, the atmosphere had shifted into something comfortable and easy. You quickly rinsed the dishes, your hands moving on autopilot as Pedro lingered nearby, chatting about everything and nothing.  

As you dried your hands, your phone buzzed on the counter, and you glanced at the screen.  

Rebecca: “Bus is almost there. Better get your cute butt down here!”  

You shot back a quick reply: “On my way.” Turning to Pedro, you grabbed your bag and gestured toward the door. “I’ve got to head down. My shuttle’s waiting.”  

Pedro grabbed his own bag and trailed after you. “I’ll walk down with you. I’ve got my own ride coming, but they’re always late.”  

The two of you stepped into the elevator, the hum of its descent filling the silence. The confined space suddenly felt smaller, the air heavier with unspoken tension.  

Pedro stood close—too close. You could feel the heat radiating off him, smell the faint hint of his cologne. Your heart thudded in your chest, and you pressed the strap of your bag tighter against your shoulder, hoping it would anchor you somehow.  

“So,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost intimate in the stillness of the elevator. “What’s the plan for today?”  

You glanced at him, his brown eyes watching you closely, the curve of his smile softer now. “Same as usual, I guess,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Make sure everything runs smoothly while you and everyone else look good on camera.”  

He chuckled, the sound low and rich. “You make it sound so simple, but I know you’re the one holding it all together.”  

His words caught you off guard, and you looked away, feeling your cheeks heat up again. “I just do my job.”  

“And you do it damn well,” he said, his tone sincere now, no teasing edge in sight.  

The elevator dinged as it reached the lobby, breaking the moment. Pedro gestured for you to step out first, and you did, your pulse still racing.  

“Thanks,” you murmured, not entirely sure if you were thanking him for his compliment or just for letting you escape the charged space of the elevator.  

As you spotted your shuttle waiting outside, you turned to him, suddenly aware of how reluctant you were to leave. “I’ll see you on set?”  

He nodded, his gaze lingering on you for just a beat longer than necessary. “Yeah. See you soon.”  

You stepped outside, the crisp morning air hitting your face as you walked toward the shuttle. But even as you climbed aboard and found a seat, your mind was still back in that elevator, replaying every glance, every word, every spark.

End Notes:

Oh hi! I missed doing these silly bits; I thought to bring ‘em back. But, don’t worry, I’ll try to yap less haha

Yes, it’s super cliche, cheesy, unrealistic, and practically a hallmark movie in the making. But that’s the fun part in fanfiction and writing, it’s all made up and no one here is allowed to “yuck” each other’s “yum” if you know what I mean. ;)

Also, I have no idea how production for film works so I’m researching stuff and making stuff up along the way pls no one come after me T^T

Weirdly enough, I saw a reddit post from someone who works at the front of the hotel desk and they say the one-bed trope/one-room trope; it actually happens pretty frequently lol so who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

TAGLIST: @comfortzonequeen @christinamadsen @liciafonseca

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Normal Bookclub Activites <3

@moonlitpeony and i made a pin the head on the nie mingjue for our mdzs book club 🥳

(we used @poorly-drawn-mdzs’s design! (their comics are sent in our book club’s group chat every week and they’re our favorite :))

[ramshackledtrickster]

Hey everyone!! I’m raffling off prints of my Codextober 2023 pieces for fundraising towards Lenda’s campaign, which is currently extremely low.

I’ve been trying to finish up commissions, but that’s been pretty slow so hopefully this can raise more interest and could be more doable.

How to enter:

Donate at least £5/$6.65 towards Lenda’s fundraiser for one entry ticket. Every additional donation gets 2 more entry tickets

Screenshot me proof in a direct message

Share, reblog, and comment/reply whatever you want for an additional entry ticket

There will be 10 winners drawn!

First place: 5 A5 art prints and 1 digital commission

Second place: 3 A5 art prints and 1 digital commission

Third place: 2 A5 art prints and 1 digital commission

The rest of the winners will receive 1 A5 art print

Winners will be chosen at random, and the winners will be messaged about it and receive a Google drive link to all the art pieces to choose from, and digital commissions will be customized to your liking and follow my usual terms (my do’s and don’t’s)

The deadline is October 15, starting now on September 13

And of course, you could always donate to this campaign however much you want/can regardless of if you join the raffle or not.

Even if you don’t enter, sharing and reblogging would be appreciated! Thank you

[hauntedcocoa]

Hello! It’s me again :3

I honestly didn’t expect this many people to enjoy my art so much haha. Reading all your comments in the tags fills my heart with so much warmth. Seeing that you guys noticed and appreciated all the little details I put in truly means the world to me!

It makes me feel so flattered and gives me a lot more confidence in my skills. I had second thoughts about sharing my art for many reasons—but you guys made it all so worth it. <3 <3 <3

Also, like I mentioned, I’m not very Tumblr-savvy, so I wasn’t sure how to properly reply to the comments in the tags. I figured I’d just say a big thank you to everyone here! Just know that I see and appreciate every like, reblog, and tag. You all make my day!

Honestly, whenever I’m feeling down or doubting myself, I’ll probably come back and reread all your sweet comments. They mean so much to me.

Much love, and thank you again!

PS: whoaahh why yes--you can print and frame it as you wish. That's the first time anyone has ever said that XD PPS: Shout out to my good fren mahkinarya! thanks for the support~

[liyuviq]

100 followers special ❤︎

dear every single one of my followers,

now that i have some time to properly organize my thoughts, let me reiterate how grateful i am for everyone that helped me reached this point.

100 may seem like a small number for many, but for someone who has been doubting her own art skills for a long time, it’s a number that i will greatly treasure in my heart.

from likes, reblogs, comments, and even the amazing mutuals i’ve gained, they all have made me so much more confident in myself and my abilities. you guys are the best and the only regret i have is not joining this community sooner. thank you all so much <3

now, that should be enough sap, so it’s time for me to introduce my 100 followers event!

event details:

edit: important! this event is over. any further requests will not be accepted.

to commemorate this special milestone, i hereby announce an event running for a week, from the moment this is posted to the end of sunday (12/1/25 UTC+6:30)! keep in mind this event is only for my followers (though new ones are always welcomed!)

you can request a doodle featuring my twst OC, shin, interacting with either your own twst OC or a canon twst boy! optionally, you may include a question about them, which also helps me come up with ideas.

how you can participate: ・ comment on this post with the 🎀 emoji to participate. ・ specify the character (oc or canon) you would like to be featured! ・ optionally include a question about their dynamics or interactions.

ex: i want to see shin interacts with malleus! what if shin joins the gargoyle research society? 🎀

・ if i reply to your comment with 🎀, it is received and a doodle will be delivered soon!

here is a simple example that requested shin and a character (me!) interacting:

what you will receive: ・ a doodle like the one above based on your request! ・ the art will be posted on my blog (you will be tagged and your comment will be screenshot and included!)

things to keep in mind: ・ exclusively for followers only but new ones are always welcomed! i dont bite ;) ・ remember this will run only a week! at the end i will edit this post to indicate it’s status so please keep an eye out. ・ finally, i will try my best to get you back as soon as possible, but do understand if it takes longer than desired. thank you <3

and that should be all! once again thank you for everyone who supported me, whether old or new. i hope this little event is enough to celebrate this special achievement! have a very nice day!

credits: dividers from @/anitalenia

[bluebunnysart]

Thank you!!!! 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺💖💖💖💖💖💖

Fanart of my own fanfiction (Chimera Teto x Android Miku)

Good news! When I woke up and looked at my art again today, I liked it, so here's the uncolored version! I trust you tumblr people, so here you go! You may view. This technically means I've drawn UTAU Teto (here) and SynthV Teto, but I really want to color this and take my time doing so, so here are the lines before it turns into something else hahaha 😂😂😂 Read More for the stuff I wanted to write last night but was too tired to (also the art time lapse)

I showed like two WIPs of different ideas on Twitter but none of them were this LOL (just goes to show how much I wanna draw and see of these two specifically) but the reason I decided to go with this is 'cuz that fanfic I wrote in like one day really got me excited and it made me really want to draw them as I was imagining more stuff about them. Here I'll talk about what I had in mind

I love chimera Teto, especially her majestic wings, and what I drew here is basically inspired by that! Teto's basically the only "living, sentient" thing around Miku so far (I dunno how to approach adding more creatures just yet), which makes Miku extra interested in her. But basically Miku likes Teto's wings and tail too and is very fascinated by them.

I had an idea where Miku is just holding or playing with Teto's tail out of nowhere and complimenting the heck out of her, and that was condensed into this piece. It was too crowded on Miku's side to have Teto's tail there as well, but the reason Teto's embarrassed (tsundere is nice, aint it xD) is 'cuz Miku is indeed praising the heck out of her. Calling her cute and saying how cool her wings are and whatnot.

The dialogue kinda goes like, "Your wings are so cool! And I really like how expressive your tail is! I wonder what I would do with a tail. It's so cute! Actually, now that I think about it, all of you is really cute!!" (Teto, embarrassed: "Stop talking now.") wwww

Miku does have a kinda tail actually! It's the chain on top of her skirt. As an android, I was thinking it works as sort of a battery plug or USB or something. I can show off more of that later (since it's really small here lol) but she can use it to receive electricity and recharge herself, I guess~. (Note to self: make it bigger?)

I haven't shown off much of my art style, but most (normal) characters usually don't have pupils. (See: this Teto, who's a living breathing creature.) As a result, I decided to give Miku pupils (kinda robot-like) to make her seem like more of a robot. She also wears the thing (headphones) over her ears, of course, which I can also use to make her seem more robot-like. There's no green flashing of code in her eyes right now but I might draw that sometime too, after my loads of other ideas...

Teto's wings aren't fragile. They're probably firm, hard, and could even be scaly/rough (up to my own whims or the reader's own preference). Her letting Miku touch her (wings) is probably a huge display of trust/confidence. Teto's wings are strong enough to carry her far distances and even allow her to fly in bad weather, I think. It's up to Teto herself how much energy/desire she has to do things like that though.

This is mentioned in the fic too, but Teto probably folds her wings a lot so they don't get in the way. She's kinda like a bird. I think her silhouette against the sun or moon, with full wingspan, is probably majestic (I'm imagining the Batman symbol for some reason lol). I know some people color Teto's wings as purple, but I specified black in my fic to match her tail. ^^

In order for her wings to breathe, there are probably holes in the back of her outfit to accommodate them, but they're only big enough for the wings (ellipses/ovals probably): she either tears/cuts holes into the shirts she wears for her wings or they already fit her wings so there's no problem. I wonder if Teto made her UTAU outfit herself in this setting. xD (A girl has to pass the time SOMEHOW plus she's probably at least a little bit handy when it comes to clothes and stuff (survival).)

If, while I'm coloring, I need to make adjustments to the seating and lineart and all that, I will, but I figured I'd show off what made me stay up 'til 5 AM last night and then get embarrassed to post 'cuz I thought I wasn't finished yet. I woke up and I liked it, so I'm just gonna put it in this here blog. c:

I don't know how to color, so coloring will be a trip 😂

[eunnieboo]

IYHM ask replies! (1/3)

🌸 @daniluvz asked:

I am so happy, I got your book and I am excited it's finally next in my to be read pile!!!!!! I know this is way to soon to ask but will you be making another book? (I had to ask, I know you literally just came out with this one not to long ago, but I love your art and it has inspired me to continue my journey in art and graphic novel) sending all the love and well wishes❣️❣️❣️

wahhh thank you so much!!!! oh my gosh, while it's not a sequel, i AM making another book! i feel like i'm the type to keep big projects close to my chest until the moment i can reveal it to the world, but i have to confess i'm very excited about this one... AH i can't wait!

wishing you well too, i'm so excited for your journey omg!!! sending you all the luck and love in the world!!!!! 💖💖💖

🌸 @perseusrising asked:

my girlfriend and i read your book together! it was absolutely spectacular! thank you so much for sharing such a beautiful story

oh it makes me so happy when i hear about people reading it together!! especially couples! what a wonderful experience to share. thank you <3

🌸 @ggwweenn1 asked:

I work at a library and read "If you'll have me" because I saw it in our new book delivery and thought "oh hey I know them from Tumblr" and then immediately was like "ok ok where can I display this prominently so every 16 year old girl can read it!?!?!" xoxo

AHH i only want the best for everyone who works at libraries!! thank you for all your hard work!!! 😤 also OMG YES... i wish that every girl who needs this book may find it... tysm! xoxo!!

🌸 @elihoneybee asked:

my girlfriend got me iyhm for christmas im so happy thank you for this beautiful book

oh thank you so much!! ;_; i'm always so touched when i hear it's been given as a gift. i think books are such good presents! and giving them is such a sweet gesture <3

🌸 @mythicalphoenix14 asked:

I recently read your book and wanted to tell you how incredible the art was and the story.

oh my gosh. that means so much! thank you forever ♥

🌸 @animaestr0 asked:

me and my friends went to the bookstore a couple montsb back and i SAW "IF YOU'LL HAVE ME" on the shelf and i straight up screamed and yoinked it because I was late to the iyhm preorder chain and couldn't find it anywhere for a while BUT!!!! I HAVE IT NOWW WOOOOOOOOO

OMG YAYYYYYYY i'm so happy to hear that!!! YIPPEEEEE 💕💕 honestly i should've reblogged the preorder link more but i'm so slow to act and afraid of being annoying 😩 i wanna try harder next time!!

🌸 Anonymous asked:

I saw your sneak peak scene on twitter and i just fell in love with your artstyle in a heartbeat, the colors, your way of setting the scene and i just wanted to tell ya i ordered if you'll have me! ps: i'm from germany! :)

you are so wonderfully sweet oh my gosh! ;0; thank you so much for your kind words!! may it get to you safely~

🌸 Anonymous asked:

i saw iyhm in a store today! i'm in australia so i was going to buy it online but i was so moved seeing irl :') it's on my bookshelf. congrats on getting published, i'm so excited to read it!

oh my goodness, thank you! SAME every time i see it in a store, my heart skips a beat 💓 i feel very grateful to have physical copies out in the world, especially with the state of digital media preservation today... thank you again!!

🌸 @unfortunatelyem asked:

read the iyhm graphic novel in one sitting and almost cried!!! thank you for the food🙏

wahhh thank you so much for reading and enjoying!!!!

🌸 @dancingcoder28 asked:

Just wanted to tell you that I saw your book in my local library! I am so happy and excited to see it because it’s such a good book, and definitely deserves to be put out there 💜💜💜💜

AHHH yessss we love libraries!! omggg thank you so much for this lovely message, that means the world 💛💛💛💛

🌸 Anonymous asked:

HI HELLO i just wanted to let you know that my friends and i went to the big barnes and nobles in NYC recently and i recognized If You'll Have Me on display and ofc i HAD to have it so I picked it up right away and absolutely adored every page of it and thank you sososo much for giving us such a lovely story <33 it made me smile so much !!!!!!!

OMG THANK YOU AHHH!!!!! oh i wanted so much for it to make someone smile!!! T_T my dreams are coming true... i hope it felt like a warm hug <3 <3

🌸 @cosmonautchan asked:

SAW YOUR BOOK AT MY LOCAL WATERSTONES!!! IT'S SUPER COOL!!!

THANK YOU AHHH HOW WONDERFUL!!! i would love to visit a waterstones someday!!

🌸 Anonymous asked:

Hiii I'm in the middle of reading IYHM (digital version cuz I don't trust my local post office sorry 😔) and it makes me feel so uwu. I'm happy to see wlw works out there (I've read mostly mlm so far). Momo is so relatable it almost hurts, I too overthink absolutely everything. Congratulations on the release!!! Here's to many more! 🎉 🥂

totally understand omg rip 😔🙏 but yayyyy i'm so thrilled! the overthinking is so real for me too. also uwu is EXACTLY the feeling i wanted to capture 😂 the uwus and the doki dokis... i wish i had even more time to show the girls being cute and fluffy with each other! maybe next time hehe. thank you so much!!!

🌸 @hyper0bject asked:

heyyy i just got a copy of IYHM in! excited to read it, been following the mini comics for a bit now and pulled the trigger on it a couple days ago :) even just looking it over it looks super quality, print and heft! thanks!

ahh i'm so happy to hear that! thank you so much!! i'm still so pleased with how the physical copies turned out. i like paperbacks because of how they feel to hold, but i was amazed to find out the hardback has the art printed right onto the cover! i totally wasn't expecting it. ty again! :>

🌸 Anonymous asked:

I just wanted to let you know I remember seeing art of momo and PG when I was in seventh grade (the "you're the cute one" art) and today I saw them on the cover of a book at my library and I almost couldn't believe it!!! I finished it within that same afternoon, and I gotta say I'm so happy you were able to publish these girls. I love them to bits. keep up the amazing work!!!

omg it's been so long since i drew that!! it's amazing that you remembered them and that they came back to you like this!!! thank you so much aw... this is so incredibly sweet... i wish i had more words to say thank you <33

🌸 @lemonbaristas asked:

Happy book birthday!!! 🎉

thank you so much!!! 🥺💕

part 2 is on its way~

[misswynters]

Midnight Romance

Tom Glynn-Carney x gn!reader

no warnings just fluff

[word count: 700

[note | it would greatly appreciated if you would not only just like, but also reblog & give me feedback. thank you!

The evening sky over New York City was painted in shades of deep blue as you stepped out of the sleek black limousine, your hand tightly clasped in Tom Glynn-Carney’s. The iconic steps of the Metropolitan Museum of Art stretched out before you, adorned with the glamorous and opulent decor of the Met Gala. The air buzzed with excitement, the crowd's murmurs blending into a symphony of admiration and anticipation.

Tom looked dashingly handsome, the movie star in his custom-tailored tuxedo, his hair perfectly styled, and his eyes sparkling with excitement. He turned to you, his gaze softening as he took in your elegant gown, the intricate beadwork shimmering under the lights.

“You look absolutely stunning,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe and affection.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you replied with a smile, feeling a rush of warmth at his words.

Hand in hand, you began your ascent up the grand staircase, the cameras flashing in rapid succession. Each step was a moment in itself, the two of you pausing every few feet to pose for photos. Tom’s arm was a constant presence around your waist, his touch grounding you amidst the chaos.

“Tom, over here!” a photographer called out, and he turned, his charismatic smile lighting up the night. You followed suit, your own smile bright and genuine. The cameras loved him, but the way he looked at you made you feel like the true star of the evening.

As you reached the top of the steps, you encountered a host of reporters eager for interviews. Tom handled them with ease, his charm and wit captivating everyone. He never let go of your hand, and whenever he had the chance, he included you in the conversation.

“Tom, what inspired your look tonight?” one journalist asked, her microphone pointed toward him.

“We wanted to embrace the theme with a touch of classic elegance,” Tom replied, his eyes briefly meeting yours before addressing the reporter again. “And having someone so stunning by my side certainly elevates the look.”

The journalist’s gaze shifted to you, a curious smile on her face. “And how does it feel to support Tom at such a prestigious event?”

Your cheeks warmed under the scrutiny, but you answered confidently. “I’m incredibly proud of Tom and all the work he’s done. Being here with him to celebrate is an honor.”

Tom’s eyes sparkled with affection as he listened to you, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. The reporter, sensing the genuine bond between you two, smiled warmly and moved on to the next question.

As the interviews wrapped up, Tom guided you toward the entrance of the museum. Before you could go inside, he pulled you aside, finding a moment of privacy amidst the bustling crowd.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” he said, his voice filled with admiration.

“You make it easy,” you replied, your heart swelling with love for him.

Tom leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. It was brief, yet it conveyed all the emotions words couldn’t capture. When he pulled back, his eyes were bright with determination and affection.

“Let’s go enjoy the night,” he said, a hint of excitement in his voice. “I can’t wait to share this with you.”

Hand in hand, you entered the museum, the grand hallways filled with art and beauty. The evening unfolded in a series of unforgettable moments, each one more magical than the last. You mingled with celebrities, admired the breathtaking exhibits, and danced under the glittering chandeliers.

As the night drew to a close, you found yourselves on a balcony overlooking the city. The view was breathtaking, but it paled in comparison to the man standing beside you. Tom pulled you close, his arms wrapped around you as you gazed out at the twinkling lights below.

“This has been an incredible night,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

“It has,” you agreed, leaning into his embrace. “And I’m so glad I got to share it with you.”

Tom turned you to face him, his eyes filled with a depth of emotion that took your breath away. “I love you,” he said, his voice steady and sure.

“I love you too,” you replied, your heart swelling with happiness. In that moment, amidst the glamour and glitz of the Met Gala, you had found something far more precious—each other.

taglist: @benjicotblckwood

a/n: late night writing, can i get someone like him for myself pls

[omagpies]

I’m doing an art giveaway to celebrate reaching 4k followers! thank you so much for being here and supporting me on my silly little journey, it makes me happy to share my art with you 💗

RULES:

there will be 4 winners!

one reblog = one entry, two reblogs = two entries etc etc etc

only reblogs from followers will count (but new followers are welcome!)

giveaway blogs will not be counted, and if you reblog to a sideblog please tag it with your main

for a fun little bonus entry: reply to this post with something you did recently that made you feel proud of yourself, no matter how big or small 💗 we live in interesting times, so you gotta celebrate everything good that happens!

EACH WINNER GETS:

1 drawing of 1 character (visual refs mandatory! please don’t make me work with descriptions, I can’t read!)

choose between ~my regular comm style~ or ~a surprise experimental style~ (what does it look like? nobody knows, not even me! but if you are brave we can find out together)

Winners will be picked by a random number generator on May 14th, in two weeks! good luck everyone 💗

[askinkiskarma]

𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕚𝕟 𝕄𝕖 | ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀: 𝕎𝕙𝕪 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝔾𝕠𝕥𝕥𝕒 𝔹𝕖 𝕊𝕠 𝕍𝕚𝕔𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤

Pairing: Neteyam x (f)Omaticaya!Reader

synopsis: you and Neteyam are the two prodigies of the Omaticaya, and while that unmoving fact brought you together as children, now, as adults, it brings you to your knees, as each day is just another opportunity for you to hurt each other in any and every way your minds could conjure up.

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, enemies-to-lovers, strong language, mentions of violence, blood, neteyam being an absolute dick, mentions of reader being choked (not in the fun way)

wc: 5.4k words

a/n: after a much longer wait than anticipated, my enemies-to-lovers fic is officially here, and I'm so excited to start a new series. As much as I love the one shots and the requests and the drabbles, I am a series enthusiast at heart, and this is something i'm really looking forward to, as I find this whole idea very challenging and hope i do it justice. pls enjoy besties, and as always, thank you for every like, reblog, reply, it means the world x (thank you very much to @cinetrix for her amazing Neteyam art ily bestie x)

na'vi compendium: syä - bitter, rumaut - cannonball fruit tree, tanhì - bioluminescent freckle, parultsyìp - children

: ̗̀➛ next chapter (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series playlist (x)

I tried to look for the best in the worst, but like, fuck me, that caused a commotion

You're lucky I'm a private person, I’ve quietly carried your burden

And everyone thinks you're an angel, but shit, I would probably use different wording

“You know, syä, one day, I’m going to be better than you at this, and that day, you will have to swallow your words, and I think that’ll be very hard for you to do.” 

“You know, Lo’ak, if you one day do beat me at anything, then I’ll be more than happy to swallow my words. I’ll even swallow my tongue, if you want.” You chuckled as you propped yourself onto a thin branch of a rumaut, maybe 50 metres from the target on the ground, and dangling from it, upside down, you took aim, focusing intently with one eye closed. Breathing in, you took the shot, and watched as it landed straight in the middle, right next to your last arrow, very far away from Lo’ak’s arrows, which were buried somewhere so obscure, you couldn’t even spot them anymore. 

“You suck.” Lo'ak puffed, rolling his eyes annoyedly. You laughed and reclaimed your spot next to him, nudging him softly with a hand.

“No, skxawng, you suck. That’s why we’re here.” 

These little training sessions have become one of your favourite things to spend your afternoons doing. They started a few weeks ago, when Lo’ak came by unannounced to your tent, his tail sheepishly between his legs. He hated that he had to ask, his enormous pride wounded and scarred, but he figured finally building up the courage to ask you to train him in his bow and arrow practice was better than asking his brother and once more proving the chasm between their skill level true. You were cocky and arrogant on the surface, but deep down, Lo’ak knew you had a heart of gold and wouldn’t judge and, at the end of the day, would do anything for him, and for his whole family.

Well, almost his whole family.

You found the oldest Sully sibling by his tent, masterfully skinning a yarik from his latest hunt. Just like everything else Neteyam did, he excelled at it. He looked peaceful and deep in thought as he worked, expression which quickly melted into annoyance when his lips pursed in a tight line and his eyes hardened, as soon as they spotted you making your way towards him. You smirked when you noticed the change, loving to see him so on edge whenever you invaded his personal bubble, which happened to be all the time, since you were as good as Neytiri and Jake’s adoptive daughter. 

You loved Neytiri and Jake. You owed them everything you had, everything you were. After your parents’ death, they provided you with the support and love and care needed to not fall into the pits of despair that came with being orphaned, with being all alone. They saw something in you, ever since you were a child, and trained you side by side with their oldest son, Neteyam. Quickly, it was obvious to everyone who paid attention that you were a prodigy, just like he was. Neteyam liked you when you were kids, and you liked him, too. You loved him, in fact. He was your best friend, and you were his. It was hard not to be each other’s best friends, when you spent so much time together, when you shared every blister, every bloodied gash, every muscle cramp from practice. You shared the good and the bad, and it was just the two of you. Nobody else knew what you went through or could possibly understand, nobody else had to spend their whole childhood being honed into the perfect warriors, the future of the Omaticaya strength. Kids played and kids laughed and kids held hands splashing in the nearby river, but you and Neteyam cleaned each other’s wounds and gave each other words of encouragement, and soft, shy smiles as your eyes met across the practice field. 

That was all in the past. Very far in the past. So far so, it was hard for you to conceptualise that it happened in this life, and it wasn’t some sort of fantasy you made up in your head, because there was nothing left of the warmth or the camaraderie you once shared. Whereas before he was a warm shelter from the storm in your life, now he was the storm, cold and ruthless, out to get you and to hurt you, to turn your limbs cold and your heart numb. You don’t know when this happened. You just know that at some point around when you were 12, Neteyam started pushing you away, until one day you were so far away, you were just a dot in his life, so far removed from the vast, centre-stage line you used to represent, a line between his past and future, between a friend and something more, something better, something permanent. 

It’s been 7 years since. Seven years since Neteyam was more or less a stranger, albeit an annoying, aggravating stranger. Because a stranger, you could ignore. A stranger, you didn’t have to see every damn day, in practice, in stings, in battles, at breakfast, lunch and dinner. A stranger might have ignored you, or pretend you don’t exist, but not Neteyam. Neteyam was determined to make your life a living hell, to make you feel as unwelcome and inadequate as humanly possible, and so you resigned yourself to returning the favour, because you very rarely ever lost to him, and you weren’t planning on starting any time soon. 

When you and Lo’ak approached, you watched as he sized you up, his eyes travelling down your body, lingering for just a second longer on your chest, covered in flowy, silken fabric, your signature look. You loved the beads, and the feathers that usually concealed Na’vi bodies, but what you loved even more was the feel of the luxurious, soft material that you took great pleasure in making yourself from a secret, coveted technique your mum taught you as a child, before she died. You tried to ignore how his stare made you feel, how the tingling that always appeared on your skin matched the bubbling feeling in your stomach, and you pushed it down, choosing to believe that’s just the feeling of hatred, of deep, intense dislike, that you didn’t feel for anyone but him.

“If you’re not actually going to contribute anything of use to the clan, you might as well train instead of wasting time and dragging Lo’ak to your level. Are you not in enough shit with father as it is, baby bro?” 

You didn’t even look at him as you walked past, opening the flap to the Sully family tent. 

“Well, Neteyam, not all of us have to try so hard all the time to keep up. Some of us are just naturally better than others.” You say with a sly smirk, almost able to hear the steam coming out of his ears, before you entered the tent and closed the flap behind you.

“The two of you will kill each other one day, you know that, right?”

You rolled your eyes at Kiri, who was dutifully making healing pastes by mixing it in a small pot on the fire, and removed the bow from around your torso, tossing the quiver on the ground and sitting next to it, warming your hands off the heat emanating from it. 

“Or fuck each other, one of the two.”

“Lo’ak!” You and Kiri hissed at the same time, and you threw a small rock you found on the ground at him, hitting him right in the middle of his forehead. You smiled, satisfied when he yelled in pain. You never missed. 

“Ow?! You’re so mean sometimes, no wonder he doesn’t like you! I’m just saying, you guys always have sexual tension, and I’m definitely not the only one that thinks so. Spider says so, too.” 

“Oh, well if Spider says so, then it must be true! It couldn’t be that you’re both children, and your mind hasn’t left the gutter since you first had a girl let you into second base.” 

“Ah… Mira… she was something, wasn’t she? Haven’t seen her in a while.” 

“Yeah, she’s hiding from you.” 

Lo’ak returned the rock in a pointed throw, that you dodged effortlessly, smirking in his direction. 

“See? Mean.” 

Walking through the village in the late afternoon, you are pleasantly surprised at the still bustling atmosphere, all the men, women and children contributing in their own respective ways to the clan’s prosperity and success. People were returning from hunts, crafting arrows, sharpening knives, preparing new garments for the warriors that will be leaving for a new mission early in the morning. It filled you with a sense of wonder, this clan, despite having lived and breathed in it your whole life, it never ceased to amaze you, how beautiful, how grand, how unified it was. It made you determined, more and more each day, to fight the fight, to never give up or give in, to always strive to be better, stronger.

It was a big one tomorrow, a big train filled with guns and supplies, protected by 10 helos and armed guards, that were needed to the clan and would constitute a big loss for the humans. A win-win, as Jake would sometimes say. You couldn’t even remember when the first one of these missions started. It’s been more than 5 years since the humans have returned, 5 years since life as you knew it changed forever, 5 years since death and hurt followed you everywhere you went, since every day felt like a battle for survival, for your clan, and your people, and your world. Back then, that first mission terrified you, it ate at your soul and your body, manifesting itself in chills and shakes, in crying eyes and trembling lips.

You remember that day like it was yesterday, you remember how you and Neteyam were the youngest in the war party, how for the first time in years, you felt a connection to the boy as your eyes met on your respective ikran, and you saw in them pain, and fear… and yearning. For a second, he was your friend again, and the future you dreamt about as a kid, one where it was just you and him, facing this harsh world together, came back in full force, taking the breath out of your lungs. But the second passed and so did his gaze and his vulnerability, and his walls never diminished, but only got thicker and more fortified in time, and yours did too, as a result. It hurt you, his behaviour, how sudden the change had been and how drastic, how he pushed you away with no goodbye, with no chance to defend yourself, how no matter how much you tried to mend it, it just ended up making it worse. So after a while, you gave as good as you got, and blow by blow, your relationship died like soldiers on the battlefield, broken and bruised, rotting away, only the beautiful memory of what used to be left behind. 

Training was still in full force at the edge of the village, in the big clearing fortified by trees and a waterfall where Jake now taught you all how to use human weapons. You didn't really need the practice, not anymore, having mastered every weapon he thought fit to throw at you years ago, but still, you went, because you may not need it, but one person you wanted to see did.

You smiled as you saw him, struggling with a Y70 Bullpup Rifle, a deep frown on his face and a small pout on his lips, and your heart swelled at the sight. O'ì'en Te Äfawoo Ìrauyon'itan was many things, all good and pure, all sweet and kind, a good balance for you, all fire and ice, no sense of balance or middling emotions. He was a mighty warrior, and a needed shelter from the new storms in your life. You've known him your whole life, but have started spending more time with him recently, as you started subbing for Jake as a mentor and a teacher, in days he was too preoccupied or otherwise engaged with one of his other many Olo'eyktan duties. He found the human weapons particularly strange and difficult to understand, so you weren't surprised now, finding him like this, struggling as he was, still trying to understand how to put it back together, how to make it work again.

You snuck behind him, careful not to make a noise, and he startled as your hands reached around and found his chest, that you caressed, tracing his defined pecs and abs, laughing as the weapon almost dropped from his hands.

"Tanhì, you scared me. What are you doing? People are watching."

"So? Let them watch." your eyes found Jake, who was eyeing your interaction curiously, an eyebrow raised and an amused smirk on his face. You brought your hand to your forehead and greeted him with a smile, and he waved at you, another human gesture he found it hard to part ways with. He made his way towards the pair of you, enveloping you in a big hug, and you almost suffocated in between his swollen, muscular pecs.

"Woah, Jake, you're gonna kill me right before an important mission." he laughs again, and you feel the deep rumble in his chest, reverberating in the forest surrounding you.

"I see you, ma Olo'eyktan."

"I see you, O'ì'en. Is the gun giving you trouble? I'm sure my little spark here can help you out. Seems you two are... close enough that she might consider it." you rolled your eyes and removed yourself from his grasp, and his knuckles made contact with the top of your head, putting pressure and twisting until it hurt, in yet another human habit you hated, that he called a noogie. He said it was affectionate, but you weren't so sure.

"Good luck." and with a wink, he was gone, focusing on the other Na'vi who needed his help and guidance.

You got on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

"Right. So this part is the underslung grenade luncher and it goes -"

It was late at night when you made your way back to your tent, smiling to yourself at the tranquility and joy of your evening, so far removed from the morning that was waiting for you and all you stood to lose when it came. Worry enveloped you like a shroud as you approached, and haunting thoughts tugged at your mind, but they didn't have time to fester, not as soft moans and breathy names percolated in your ears instead and took their place, names and voices you recognised. You circled your tent to the tree that rested right behind it, and you found exactly what you thought you would, exactly what you didn't want to ever see in your life. Neteyam's back shielding his little annoying girlfriend's naked body propped against the tree, with her legs around his hips, as he rutted into her.

You hated Neteyam in that moment. You knew he was doing it on purpose, you knew there was no other reason why he would choose this spot to do this, other than the knowledge that you would be coming to bed soon and the satisfaction he knew he would get from your reaction. But you wouldn't give it to him. The satisfaction, that is. He was good, at the little mind games, at knowing what buttons to push to drive you to the point of considering whether your love for the Sullys was greater than the desire to remove his head from his shoulders, but in time, you learnt all his little tricks, and in time, you learnt how to beat him at his own game.

You cleared your throat, your voice sweet and docile as honeycomb as you spoke.

"Neteyam, I just came from your family's tent. Mo'at was looking for you, she said you've been missing you treatments for your genital warts." You let out an affected noise, trying your hardest to sound sympathetic and concerned. "I'm sure it's fine, though. I'm sure the elders are wrong when they talk about how it makes fungus grow out of your vagina if you're infected by it." You almost broke your composure when the girl let out a pained yelp, but otherwise pushed through.

"Oh, well! Have a good evening!" And with that, you took your leave, grinning from ear to ear as all you heard when you entered your tent was screaming and Neteyam trying to hush her and defuse a newly-chaotic situation.

The mission and the aftermath went as well as could be expected, and you were proud of your contribution that never went unnoticed in the clan, or among the Sullys, much to Neteyam's dismay. He was still enraged about your little stunt, and you were happy that despite his continuous stink eye, you killed 5 humans, and secured the perimeter at all times, keeping the war party safe throughout the duration of the mission. The praise from everyone in the village meant the world to you, it meant everything to you, and by the afternoon, you felt on top of the world. The feeling didn't last, though, replaced with more anxiety than you knew what to do with, as Mo'at asked for your immediate presence by her side, as a matter of urgency.

You were nervous as you made your way to the Tsa’hik’s tent, unsure of why you would have been summoned there in the first place. You were going to see Mo’at for dinner shortly anyhow, so whatever it was she had to tell you was definitely too important to wait, and well, let’s just say you had a bad feeling. The bad feeling worsened when you finally pushed past the flap of the marui and found Neteyam sitting on the ground, the same kind of muted confusion visible on his face, that quickly changed into his signature “you” look as soon as he noticed who it was that walked in. You brought your fingers to your forehead and bowed your head to your Tsa’hik. 

“I see you, Mo’at.” 

She returned the gesture with a smile, and you sat down in front of her. 

“Is something wrong, ma Tsa’hik? Why are Neteyam and I here?” 

Mo’at circled the pit of fire that resided in the middle of her tent and placed a hand on one of your and Neteyam’s shoulder, a big smile on her face.

“It’s great news, ma parultsyìp. My latest communion with Eywa brought forth visions and guidance from the our Great Mother. Visions of you, my children.” Her smiled dropped a little and was replaced by a more serious expression, which accompanied her tone of voice.

“I know you two haven’t seen eye to eye for a while now. I know a lot of it is our fault, pushing you both to be the best versions of yourselves and pushing you apart as a result, but you used to be best friends, you used to hold each other close in your hearts, and Eywa thinks that can happen again… that it should happen again.” 

Mo’at’s words scared you. She was being vague and the direction of the conversation made you uncomfortable, sending shivers down your spine. You looked at Neteyam, who was watching you already and you stifled a grimace at the way he turned instantly, like the thought of meeting your gaze was too unbearable to even be considered. 

“Grandmother, what are you saying?” 

“Eywa has chosen the new Tsa’hik, grandson. You two are to be a mated pair, and Neteyam, you will be one of the finest ruling pairs the Omaticaya has ever seen.” 

Your mouth fell agape in shock and your brows furrowed as your mind was assimilating the influx of information, the way that your life instantly changed in so little time, in as little time as it took Mo’at to say the words out loud. Mated pair? Tsa’hik? You and Neteyam? Too many contradictions, too many oxymorons when said altogether for it to make sense to you. You looked over at Neteyam, hoping that for at least a second he’d let you in, he’d look at you, so you could work through this together, so you can navigate it together… so you can handle it together. But all you saw was anger and his composure coming apart at the seams, his tail shaking furiously and the tip of his ears a deep purple. 

“Absolutely not. This has to be some sort of mistake, grandmother.” 

Your own ears twitched and fell backwards at the unfairness of it all, at his booming tone and furious demeanour, at the way it was inconceivable to him that you'd have to spend your life together. It stung, the needles of hurt piercing your skin like a tattoo, marking you, how Neteyam never said no to his family, to his Tsa’hik, but decided to break that rule for himself just to reject you. It’s not like you wanted him, either, definitely not, but there was something about his antipathy towards you, unshaken and unwavering, even after all these years, that will always get under your skin, in the way that only he ever managed to. If there’s one thing you were good at, though, is matching him blow by blow. 

“Yes, Mo’at. He has his standards set much too low to allow me to be his mate, and I have mine set way too high for him to be able to do anything but limbo under them.” yet another word you learnt from Jake, that seemed appropriate now, too appropriate to go to waste.

“That’s enough!” Mo’at was no longer in a joking mood as she looked at both of you, a stern disposition about her that you knew better than to cross. “Eywa’s decision is final, and she’s never wrong. I was just as shocked as you are, and I don’t know why she chose you, but she did. We will talk shortly about the ceremony. You can leave now.” 

You sighed, your head falling in between your hands as you heard Neteyam scoffing and getting up, and the air that hit your back as he opened the flap of the tent and rushed out of it without another word. 

“Mo’at… please. This has to be a mistake. I’m not fit to be Tsa’hik, you know this. I am a warrior, I have been a warrior my whole life. There’s much better suited people for the job, much better girls, I -“ 

Mo’at silenced you with an affectionate pat on your head. “I think you’d be better fitted than you think. Now go, I’m sure there’s better things you could be doing than sitting here, fretting over a done deal.”

The water in the lake of your secret meadow, your favourite place in the whole world, was colder than you were used to, a welcome respite in a sea of flames that felt like it was engulfing every corner of your mind and body, as you were processing the calamitous conversation you shared with the woman. What was she thinking? What was Eywa thinking? You and Neteyam? The man hated you. And you hated him. What kind of mateship could this ever be, other than one filled with pain and suffering. What kind of leadership could this be, other than one that was disjointed and chaotic. This was a mistake. You would tell Mo’at as much the next time you saw her.

You could at least try to reason with Jake and Neytiri first. They always listened to you, they always took your opinions into consideration. You would tell them that Neteyam has a girlfriend and an intended mate, that you were too young for such eternal commitments, that there was no productive resolution to this, as long as this was still to go ahead. You would do this and it would work. It had to work, because what was the alternative?

A little calmer and with a plan in mind, you swam your laps, enjoying the cold crisp feel of the water against your burning skin. You did this for hours, until you eventually tired, now peacefully laying on the soft grass, looking up at the stars. You have always been able to escape this sometimes harsh reality in the safety of your mind. But harsh reality always had a distasteful way of creeping back in, and it did so now in the form of the one person you never wanted to see, the one person whose presence had the power to burn you and turn you cold all at the same time. 

“Leave, Neteyam.”

“No. We need to talk.” 

“Oh, what could we possibly have to talk about, Neteyam?” You said sarcastically. Of course he’d want to talk now, finally coming with his tail between his legs. You might put him out of his misery if he was nice about it, if for the first time in years he found it in his tiny, little heart to apologise and talk to you like an actual person, if he came to you with some semblance of humbleness and communicated fairly and honestly. Maybe you could finally come to a mutual understanding. This would benefit both of you, so there had to be a way to finally learn to be civil to one another and put your difference aside. 

“Stop being coy, it doesn’t suit you.” You rolled your eyes. This wasn’t off to a great start. 

“Stop being a dick if you want to talk to me.” 

“You have to go talk to my parents and tell them you don’t want this. Tell them you’re in love with that loser boyfriend of yours, tell them you’ve mated with him already. Tell them you don’t want to ever be tied down, that you don’t think the title of Tsa’hik would suit you. I don’t care what you say, just do it. You and I both know this can’t happen. It won’t matter what I say to my parents.” He looked down to his feet and mumbled mostly to himself. “It never does.” He collected himself quickly, before he continued.

“But they care about your opinion. I have to be Olo’eyktan, you don’t have to be Tsa’hik. So go talk to them.”

You rose to your feet and faced him. Your blood quickly started boiling in your veins at his words and tone, at the way he barely looked at you or acknowledged you, at the way he continued to treat you like a plague or disease to be sneered at, to be demeaned, to be avoided. You wanted to scream at him, to take him by his shoulders and shake some sense into him, and hope that this way the Neteyam you used to know, whose memory you still cherished despite all the horrible, unhappy, strenuous years that followed, would just return to you. But being vulnerable around him is something you’ve learnt the hard way you needed to avoid at all costs, so in the matter with which you’ve been accustomed, in a half-sneer, half-growl, you spoke.

“I have to give it to you, Neteyam, you definitely have some nerve. Coming here, demanding that I take one in the chin, yet again, might I add, and be the one to go and talk us out of this predicament, and not even being civil about it, when it’s you asking me the favour. You’ve always enjoyed letting me do all the dirty work, while you maintain the golden child title you clearly value so much. The mighty warrior. The perfect soldier. We both know, deep down, you’re just a fucking coward.”

You watched as his expression darkened, an edge to his face and beautiful features you’ve very rarely, if ever, seen before. But you were angry, so angry, so done protecting his feelings, so over trying to maintain a semblance of decorum for the sake of the love you shared in the past and the love you still share with the rest of his family, for the peace that you once hoped to protect. No one could make you angry like he could. No one got under your skin as well as he did, nuzzling there and making a home of the warmth of your bones, there to stay, until you were willing to forcefully remove him, until you were willing to finally break free from his unyielding grasp his presence had on your mind. It was finally time, it seemed. 

“You sit there and act like this is an inconvenience to you. I’m going to be stuck being Tsa’hik forever. I’m one of the best warriors in this clan. I stood by Jake and Neytiri my whole life, just like you. Why the hell should you get to lead the people in battle, while I have to stay behind, and forsake everything I have ever worked for, all the sacrifices I made and all the years I gave to stand behind and heal your wounds? I should be Olo’eyktan between the two of us, and I think you know that, Neteyam. I think it eats at you at night, the thought. I think that’s the reason you have treated me like dirt since the second you realised this very fact. I think you’re scared your own parents prefer me. You’re scared that comes push to shove, that little bimbo girlfriend of yours might only be with you for the prestige that comes with fucking the future Olo’eyktan, and that if by any chance she finds this out, she’d dump you faster than a banana fruit on a sunny day.” 

You knew it was a step too far, and definitely felt it as soon as Neteyam’s fingers wrapped around your throat and squeezed and your breath hitched in your throat with nowhere to go. 

“You’re such a little bitch. Take it back.” There was no light in his tone, no levity, just pure rage, burning wildly in his eyes and manifested in his bared teeth, threatening fangs fully on display, the low growl blooming in his throat felt deep within you, and for the first time in your life, you were scared of the man sitting in front of you. You felt yourself becoming dizzy and disoriented as the lack of oxygen was taking over your mind, but you refused to give in to his desires, not when he was hurting you, not when he crossed a line, not when you could be hurting him. You smirked instead, and tried to focus enough to get the words out. 

“You’re… a coward. You’re weak, Neteyam. Threatened by a little girl, so you pushed me away and continue to treat me like dirt. I have never thought I am better than you, Neteyam, until right now, that is. I realised something today. I don’t think I’m better than you. You think I’m better than you.”

With all your might and the last of your power, you kneed him, as hard as you could, straight in the groin, and exhaled in relief when his hand dropped from you throat and went to his loincloth, growling in pain. You groaned as you felt the marks he left on you, that will definitely bruise, and struggled to find your balance, as you walked slowly away from him. 

“I’m just as unhappy about this as you are. But you crossed a line, Neteyam. The next time you lay a hand on me, I will make you pay, and I promise you that little girlfriend of yours will have to make do without offsprings.” 

You left the spot that meant so much to you, that was now tainted forever, rubbing his finger imprints off your now sensitive, raw neck, heart full of deep anguish and mind filled with all the ways you were going to make him pay, and that started with one simple step: forsaking the plan to get out of this little arrangement. 

taglist: @fanboyluvr @theycallmesia @afro-hispwriter @soleilmoon @crazy4books1 @bakugouswaif

[hexcrystals]

republic of pirates dashboard simulator part 2

thanks to @sherlockig for the screencaps 💕

part 1

⚓️pirate-tats-tournament

and the winner is...

BLACKBEARD'S SNAKE TATTOO with 78.6% of the vote

thanks for voting!

#pirate tattoo tournament #poll result #next time i'm gonna seed it properly so we don't end up with the final 8 tattoos all being on the same guy smh

1,520 notes

🐶saltyseadog

hi everyone i'm fang/kevin and my pronouns are he/him 🥰 looking for more people to follow so like or reblog if you post about:

cute dogs

goats

leather

piracy

art

fishing

stories about demon boys

3 notes

🍖knivesareknives

#if you picked 2 or more let's be friends

29 notes

🌊keeptheseaclean Follow

friends don't let friends throw rubbish into the sea. THINK before you THROW

🎣managainstbeast

can everyone report this account for harassment please. i know the guy in the photo and he is lovely and has really nice hair and he hasn't given his permission for this image to be used.

#posts from the fishing boat #also one man's foul projectile is another man's lovely letter. just saying. broaden your horizons #there's only one thoughtless dipshit here and it isn't stede

448 notes

🦈sharkinfested

who the fuck is 'anti ship'. i didn't even know that was a thing. this website is something else

🌴palmtreeappreciationclub Follow

people who don't support incest. it's that simple

🦈sharkinfested

that doesn't make any sense. i literally live on the same island as every generation of my family. if i was against ships i'd have a much harder time finding someone to fuck who isn't related to me

#how am i supposed to get anywhere else without a ship? fucking swim?? i don't think so #but sure keep virtue signalling i guess #💿🐴

801 notes

🔪notafuckingmermaid

reblog this if you ARE POLYAMOROUS, SUPPORT POLYAMOROUS PEOPLE, or ARE CURRENTLY COVERED IN THE BLOOD OF YOUR ENEMIES 🩸

#3/3 😌

11,873 notes

🕊️see-which-sea-witch Follow

To love the sea as she must be loved requires change.

🌊keeptheseaclean Follow

to love the sea as she must be loved requires NO MORE THROWING RUBBISH INTO HER

🐙krakenmyjoints

bro you're literally replying to a bird

2,432 notes

🐳calicojackwhippedmyballs

you'll see a post that's like 'HRRRHRNESDGJNKDFG I NEEEEED HIM I NEED HIM SO BADLY HE'S SOOOOOOOOO HE'S HGURIESGHDKLJG' and then it'll be a picture of the soggiest white guy you've ever seen

7,230 notes

⛵️gentlemanprivates

hrresrgjerskdghklgjfdgdkl i need to get him PREGNANT he's EVERYTHING he's SOO ASDJHGKLFJSDG

359 notes

[deliciousangelfestival]

"Darling, bad luck seems endless." - Bucky Barnes - 2

Summary: You've always been haunted by bad luck your entire life, despising it deeply, until you meet someone who finds it amusing.

Character: softdark!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 .

Author's Note: Hello, everyone; this story is for thesleepover eventhosted by @the-slumberparty. What I chose is a strawberry sundae with gummy bears as the topping.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more.

Bucky didn’t trust you yet. To test if what you said about your lousy luck was true, he sent you to his competitor, Damien, a mafia boss who owed money to Bucky.

Damien spent most of his time at a museum. Bucky gave you an order, “And I want to see if what you said is true.”

You didn’t thoroughly dislike the idea because, as an artist, you enjoyed going to museums. The museum was a grand, historical building with high ceilings and intricate architecture. Walking through the halls filled with timeless masterpieces, you felt a sense of calm despite the task at hand.

As you wandered, you spotted Damien. He was exactly as Bucky had described: an older man, about the same age as Sir Galileo, with an air of authority and a sharp gaze. You stood at a respectful distance, admiring the same painting he was fixated on—"Portrait of Madame X."

Noticing your interest, Damien turned to you. “A fine piece, isn’t it?” he said, his voice rich and cultured. “John Singer Sargent’s ‘Portrait of Madame X’. It caused quite a scandal when it was first exhibited.”

You listened intently as he explained the history and significance of the painting. His passion for art was evident, and you found yourself genuinely engaged in the conversation.

Suddenly, your phone rang. It was Bucky. “Where’s the bad luck? I see you talking to him without anything happening,” he demanded.

“Uhm…” You hesitated. You never knew when bad luck would strike.

Just then, a scream pierced the air. “Kyaa!”

You turned to see another visitor pointing in horror. The painting you had been admiring had fallen off the wall, landing dangerously close to Damien. You were too stunned to speak.

“No kidding,” Bucky muttered through the phone, equally shocked. It seemed impossible for a securely hung painting to suddenly fall in a museum. He was beginning to believe your curse might be real.

For the second test, Bucky sent you to a café. “Just choose a table and sit near my other competitor, Ivan. It’s an easy task,” he instructed.

You entered the cozy café, its atmosphere warm and inviting with the smell of freshly brewed coffee and pastries. You found a table near Ivan and started sketching another jewelry design for Bucky.

Ivan, seated nearby, glanced over and noticed your drawing. “That’s quite impressive,” he remarked, leaning in slightly.

“Thank you,” you replied, offering a polite smile.

“What inspires your designs?” he asked, genuinely curious.

Before you could answer, a waitress tripped and spilled a hot cup of coffee right onto Ivan’s thigh. He yelped in pain and surprise, the conversation abruptly ending.

Bucky, watching everything unfold on a screen, was astounded. “You really do bring bad luck.”

“...” You remained silent, unsure of how to respond.

“But I’m getting all the advantages,” Bucky continued with a sly grin. “Thank you.”

You didn’t know whether to feel offended or relieved that Bucky was starting to believe you.

The last incident that convinced Bucky was when he brought you to a ball party hosted by another gangster whom Bucky despised, who was there to show off his wealth.

The host planned to reveal a rare diamond during the party, but it was stolen. This was unexpected and seemingly impossible due to the high level of security. While everyone else panicked, Bucky remained calm. He looked at you and said, "You’re my lucky charm."

🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀

All these experiences made your once dull life exciting. You started to appreciate the bad luck you had. You realized that working with Sir Galileo was the longest job you had ever held.

One day, you asked him if he had ever faced misfortune. Surprisingly, he said, “I did. My former driver got into an accident, and the electricity short-circuited on the first day you worked here.”

You were shocked and felt guilty. “It must be because of me.”

He shook his head and said, “It’s nothing. I’ve lived a long time and faced a lot of things, especially working with gangsters and mafia. I just keep on living.”

‘Just keep on living.’ He’s right. Even with bad luck, you continued living. Life always punched you to the ground, but you got back up again.

Slowly, you started liking your bad luck. You experienced exciting events, even assisting Bucky in getting rid of his rival businesses.

But then you noticed that your bad luck didn’t happen as often. In fact, you started getting lucky.

You found $100 on the street one day, got a free coffee when the barista mistakenly made an extra, and even won a small prize in a local raffle. It felt like life was turning around.

Curious, you revisited the same paranormal. She said, “Bad luck left after you started liking it.”

“How?” you asked, bewildered.

“It’s complicated,” she replied with a knowing smile.

You still couldn’t believe it. You remembered the saying, “Fall in love with your problems, and maybe they will leave you too.”

Damn. Even bad luck left you.

If there was no bad luck, how could you help Bucky?

Since then, you stopped meeting Bucky, leaving him wondering. Days turned into weeks, and Bucky felt your absence deeply. Determined, he went to find you.

“Do you think I only wanted you because of your bad luck?” he asked, his eyes searching yours.

“Didn’t you?” you replied, your heart pounding.

Bucky stepped closer, his gaze intense. “I said before, you’re the only woman who’s willing to risk her life for me.”

You felt a warmth spread through you as he spoke. "Bucky, I—"

He interrupted, "It's not just your bad luck. It's you. You're brave, resilient, and you’ve changed my life in ways I never expected. I don't want to lose that. I don't want to lose you."

You looked into his eyes, seeing a depth of sincerity that took your breath away. "I never thought I'd hear you say that," you said softly.

"I mean it," he replied, taking your hand in his. "You bring something into my life that no one else ever has. Bad luck or not, I want you with me."

For a moment, you hesitated, memories of your past misfortunes flashing through your mind. But then you realized that with Bucky, you had faced and overcome those challenges together. And now, without the constant shadow of bad luck, you felt a new kind of strength.

"You really mean it?" you asked, needing to be sure.

He nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Yes, I do. We make a great team. And I want us to continue, no matter what comes our way."

You smiled back, feeling a sense of relief and joy wash over you. "Alright, Bucky. Let's face the future together."

With that, he pulled you into a tender embrace, holding you close. "Thank you," he whispered. "For everything."

You looked up at him, your heart full. "Thank you for believing in me."

From that moment on, your life with Bucky was filled with new adventures, challenges, love, and support. Together, you faced whatever came your way, more vital than ever. And you knew that, no matter what, you would always have each other.

-the end-

Taglist:

@thezombieprostitute

@thetravelingtyper

@scott-loki-barnes

@mostlymarvelgirl

@chemtrails-club

@dexter99

@seresingirlie

@missvelvetsstuff

@kjah97

@tfatwsoldir

@buckysdoll85

@lokislady82

[malenjoyer]

Good morning 🙏🏼

I want to thank everyone their support with reblogging my stuff over the years and reblogging some of the context of the situation.

Tumblr and Instagram is filled with the most supportive people I’ve ever had the chance of meeting. The last time something like this happened, I didn’t have much support, not even from people I thought were close to me. It took me a year or two to be okay with being perceived again in fandoms. So I’m very grateful for everything.

I just wanted to post that I appreciate all of the asks and I’ve been reading all of them. I actually get anxious I’m spamming everyone too much so I probably won’t reply to everything. Please don’t feel pressured to support me financially, there’s is a free option on patreon to follow. I’ll post future project plans and occasional updates because I still love comics and I still love DC/Marvel. I do enjoy having people following along for my art/reading journey so I would always be okay with people just following for free. My brain is telling me this post is too long now so I will go 🙏🏼😭

[strangegutz]

Man wtf are people on about, first of all that song is super catchy thank you for introducing me to it, secondly my god how little tact to people have to go one someones art post and leave rude comments about their taste in music? Like they do understand you aren’t their friend right? Saying they hate it (lighthearted) doesnt come across the way they think it does to a complete stranger. Im an artist and ive had people leave what are clearly supposed to be cutesy snarky comments on my post (including i think even the lighthearted or genuine tone tags) and like my god it just killed my motivation. Like there is a real person behind the screen seeing that comment, someone who isnt your friend. Would you just go up to someone minding their business and go hey i think your outfit is weird as fuck haha but in a lighthearted way! Jesus i swear no one has any manners anymore

EVERYONE LISTEN TO THE LISA OST NOW!!

you're so right for this, theres a Playful Rudeness epidemic and it pisses me off so bad. Especially when you match the energy back and they hit you with the "um well I was kidding :/" like oh, we're not playing anymore? Is it real now that I've replied to you? lol. I've gotten so much worse than this in terms of Playful Rudeness and man, I'd prefer if people would just be a full on asshole to me

Alright, like, people saying they're scared of my choice of the Lisa grunting track (Work Harder) is whatever. but goddamn, I'm not used to the whole "all attention is good attention" thing and having a hundred tags being like "why the fuck did you pick this music" is driving me crazy, especially when like. It's a silly track. I know it's a silly track. Do you seriously not see that the sample used is purposely goofy. The sample itself was an inside joke with the Lisa dev IIRC. Though, I've seen people on this website have the same reaction to the track 666 Kill Chop Deluxe which is an even more insane track to be "scared" of IMO, so I guess i was asking for this to happen eventually, lol

Not to get on my Artist High Horse here, but the most irritating is people saying something like "cool doll but what the fuck is the music i hate the music unmute at your own risk" like man, alright, look, I made a video of myself making a demon woman doll with a fetish hood and a cigarette, and I chose Work Harder as my backing track. I made an intentional choice as an artist, and if you can't meet me in the middle for this less-than-2-minute video, then perhaps my work isnt for you? Idk, mute it and play Taylor Swift over it if you want. Or maybe this, if it's less scary. But now my art has a completely different vibe than I intended. it feels so dumb to say this about Work Harder but i guess if you gotta shave off the edges to swallow my work, do it, and thanks for the reblogs!

All of my friends encourage me to start cracking down on rude (or just annoying) commenters, it's hard but ooohhhh i'm certainly creeping closer

tldr:

[tgmsunmontue]

Positivity post... and a thank you.

I took this photo on a walk this other morning and intended to send it to a whole bunch of people in their Ask boxes, as a thank you for being amazing/friendly/wonderful/talented etc. And I started making a list of the people and it got above 10, then 20 and then 30, then 40.

I was like 😧 it will take me ALL WEEKEND to send everyone the personalised messages I want to send. So I am doing just one big shout out post.

🌻🌻🌻THANK YOU 🌻🌻🌻

Thank you to those who send me asks - thank you, I don't ignore them on purpose. I usually find them again weeks later and feel awful for forgetting about them. 🌻

Thank you to those of you who tag me in things - the fandom community needs this and it's lovely to see this slowly coming back. Never feel bad or hold back from tagging me - I might forget to do it, or the notification will get lost, but I appreciate it all regardless. 🌻

Thank you to those who engage with what to write weekend posts and send in requests. It helps keeps me focussed and on task - writing for others is always an added motivation. 🌻

Thank you to those who go on reading sprees, leaving a column of your username in my notifications. 🌻

Thank you for all the likes likes and reblogs and replies to posts on fics. 🌻

Thank you to those who go the extra mile and also then kudos and comment on AO3 when the fic is posted there. 🌻

Thank you for drawing fanart of my fics. It still blows me away that this is something that has even happened because HOLY SHIT. 🌻

Thank you for letting me take your ideas and turn them into long fics. 🌻

Thank you for making art and allowing people to base fics off it. 🌻

Thank you for letting me get to know some of you better and ramble at you at all hours of the day and night. 🌻

Thank you for supporting me as I got back into drawing after a 25+ year hiatus. Trying to learn something again that you used to be decent at is an entirely new level of frustration and your grace, humour and advice has been truly appreciated. 🌻

As I get older I try and remember to appreciate the smaller things in life and everything above is something that makes me smile and feel grateful. So thank you again. 🌻

Tagging the people who I was hoping to send a personalised message to this weekend. I hope this suffices instead. 🌻🌻🌻

@phisworld14 @redfurrycat @halestrom @catarina4057 @almostkeenchaos @nixie-deangel @archhis @starfata @tothepayne @celandinebergerac @erudite-raven-apollokid @crooked-jes @nimuetheseawitch @lunamazes @omletlove @mxrcusflint @philcoulson-redtapeninja @iprefervillains @k9effect @yeagrave @the-ace-with-spades @indybob @gwaihiril @beezelarts @themissingmango @jayjay-thejet-plane @bigspoonlttlespoon @film-in-my-soul @jakekazansky @xiaokuer-schmetterling @poetryandpickles @demichrising @sweetcherryflavour @daughterofscotland @flyingfightingfishy @jayjay-plus @karlmschwartz @lucyybradford @spookybibi @ultimate-shipper @dancinginlifeandpoetry @nevergettingoverit @thyknife @sleepy-hyperfixations @oneelleandaneye @needforspeed161 @torchflies @accio-lo-ki @queeredfortakeoff851 @stellarskyes @intrepidjourneys

(This isn't even an exhaustive list, but it was off the top of my head and I know I have yet to get to know some people as I slowly work my way through reading catalogues of people's fics.)

[xiaokuer-schmetterling]

documenting my journey to really actually making a podfic! ETA: 7 days & counting!!!

+++ i am contemplating making a podfic episode narrating thru my process from start thru posting to ao3. would there be an audience for this???+++

this post is gonna be an ongoing series of links (in the replies) for blog posts that inspired me to DO THE THING! pretty much reverse chronological order. it's like tracking what bits of tumblr i was interacting with almost in real time.

to everyone i reblogged and/or who replied to me: i just wanted to tell you that your post was part of the inspiration & motivation that led me to making & posting my very first podfics!!! tysvm!!!

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follow my podfic tag xk_s_reads !!!

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BABY'S FIRST AO3 POSTED WORK!!!

[podfic] Just One More by MaelstromOfEmotions

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baby's first podfics:

https://www.tumblr.com/xiaokuer-schmetterling/772475114852892672/podfic

https://www.tumblr.com/xiaokuer-schmetterling/772482920534376448/thank-you-for-the-validation-no

https://www.tumblr.com/xiaokuer-schmetterling/772441206958571520/podfic-2025-01-11-3-xksreads-free-download

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tyvm for the support & encouragement in chats:

@ferntasie @maelstrom-of-emotions @travelingneuritis @keriarentikai @geck-motj

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ao3 resources:

A Newbie's Guide to Podficcing (10897 words) by Azdaema Pods

[Meta] A Breakdown of Podfic Hosting Options (1804 words) by GoLBMeta

A Basic Beginner's Guide to Podfic Creation (3647 words) by Flowerparrish Arts et al

A step-by-step guide to your first (tenth, hundredth) podfic (11150 words) by Annapods

Podfic Posting Guide (1996 words) by Shmaylor

The Fic Writer's Guide to Formatting (An AO3 Repository) (12783 words) by AnisaAnisa

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pinyin pronunciation resources:

i took a semester of mandarin chinese in community college forever ago and this is something i found that is catchy and quirky and weird and funny and memorable. it's part 1 of a 4 video playlist. actually really helpful if you pay attention to the shape of the mouse's mouth. the grouped consonants all have the same mouth shape with sequentially further back positioning of the tip of the tongue on the roof of your mouth fyi

this is a pinyin guide by user @pumpkinpaix and it has an accompanying transcript with tone markers and embedded audio!

https://pumpkinpaix.tumblr.com/post/619038202237452288/hello-cyan-you-have-the-cutest-voice-one-thing

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this is the image in my mind anytime i say I DID THE THING or similar

motivational art by @thelatestkate

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