#that's my boy! don't take my boy!! how unbelievably rude!

[running-in-the-dark]

watching the last episode of season 3 of The Librarians again and it still makes me so mad!!! even though I know what's really going on I'm. so. angry!!

[serialkilluh1996]

MY ☆𝐊Ö𝐍𝐈𝐆☆ HEADCANONS

SFW; no ratings or warnings, not proofread

SWEETHEART, NO HEART OR MIDDLE?

Is König the emotional type?

In my opinion? He's not a bubbly sweetheart, but he is FAR from a no heart.

He's not all lovey dovey on the surface. He doesn't like small talk. He doesn't like seeing people he recognizes in public, and he doesn't like confrontation.

König doesn't have the "uwu im so shy" social anxiety. He has the "it physically pains me when I have to speak someone and it causes violent intrusive thoughts" social anxiety. He never acts on it, of course, but social interaction makes him sick. There's a select few people he actually enjoys speaking with, and you are number one on that roster.

You'll start to notice he gets more talkative after a few weeks of knowing you, and he's more open to meaningless conversations because no conversation with you is meaningless to him. He actually enjoys when you ask him stupid questions.

CLASSY OR MESSY?

Is this guy willing to get his hands dirty?

He's naturally classy. He won't go out of his way to be messy, but he's no pretty boy either. He doesn't like mud on his boots or dirt under his fingernails. He's a very precise man. But he can get behind it every now and then.

I think he'd enjoy going on long walks in the woods to give his legs a good stretch. I don't think he'd mind spending a few hours disconnected from the rest of the world, somewhere out near the mountains. But anything further, such as hunting, you'd have to convince him to do, which doesn't take much work either. And he loves rough housing with you.

König likes tussling and tumbling in the bed like puppies til one of you eventually gets tired. You usually give in first, as he has seemingly endless stamina, but God, does it take long. He loves how long it takes for you to give up. Resistance means he's got a challenge, and you're the only one who brings out his competitive side. He's only pushy with those he's close with, so it takes a lot for people to convince him to go out for bowling or something like that.

WHAT'S HIS FAVORITE DRINK?

What does König like to drink?

He's a pretty thirsty guy, so anything that can properly hydrate him is a go-to. You'll notice when he takes you on rides that he keeps 2 liter water bottles in his backseat for emergency purposes.

It's why he wears his cargo pants outside of work. He's got pockets big enough to carry drinks all over.

Water is his favorite. He's the #1 water apologist. He's so crazy about it that he has a favorite kind of ice. Not the regular cubes, but the hollow nugget kind. He silently rejoices when restaurants and bars put it in his drinks.

And don't even get him started on juice. Orange juice, apple juice, grape juice, lemonade, the list goes on. He keeps the fridge filled with it. He'll typically drink it as a reward after a long day or in the morning once he's eaten something. It's like a little treat. König loves fruity shit. Smoothies, milkshakes, cocktails, all of it. It's why he just HAS to keep so much water on him, or he'll dehydrate.

PHYSICAL TOUCH?

What's his stance on physical touch?

It gives him the same feelings as conversations. It feels like hell. He's not a touchy-feely man. Handshakes, shoulder punches, getting pat on the back. He goes through it pretty often, and it makes him unbelievably uncomfortable when his coworkers do it. He doesn't want to seem rude, as he's already a scary guy, so he never fully expresses his issue, but anyone who can read eyes knows that bothered look. When he scrunches his nose and he winces with unease.

As he gets closer to you, he gets less tense about it. He's more likely to make the first moves and actually start giving hugs without being asked. He'll be all in your head, only stopping after you scold him for messing with it. He likes it when things are too high for you. Instead of grabbing it himself, König will pick you up, lifting you high enough to get it yourself just for a reason to hold your waist. He's pretty huge, so under regular circumstances, he's too tall to reach anything past your breast without bending over.

FRESH OR FUNKY?

What does he smell like?

Fresh. As hell. Man spends at least an hour and a half in the shower. The way it feels against his skin is just so mesmerizing. He loves hot baths and soaking in bubbles. On some days off, he'll go to the sauna with Horangi, but that's only after he's been begged and nagged into compliance.

König has a specific apple-scented soap he uses at night and a cinnamon wood soap for the day. He's likes to keep a different smell throughout the day to set his mood. Call him a pretty boy, but he just likes self care to a certain extent, and smelling good boosts his confidence.

NICKNAMES

Does he like nicknames?

He's neutral about them. Of course, he prefers calling people by their proper names. He's not against it. He's used to being firm and strict because of what he does, so he does his best to come off as sweet with what he calls you.

He puts his on swing on them. He likes teasing you for how much shorter you are than him. Yeah, everyone is shorter than König, but that makes it even funnier to him.

Kleine Frau is his go-to because he knows how much it annoys you to be referred to as a little woman. Other times, he'll just refer to you as some small animal or creature.

Things such as Maus, Haschen, and Schlumpf (Mouse, Bunny, and Smurf) are usually terms he saves for when he's trying to flirt with you, but in the end, they only piss you off, earning you some pathetic little apology where he actually refers to you as Schatze, liebling, or meine liebe; the usual terms of endearment.

You can support me by liking, commenting, reblogging, and/or cashapping me @fundsbrownie. Donations are optional, but much appreciated. Have fun! And remember, take care of yourself. If you liked this, I recommend checking HERE for more König content <3

[milesandcorysupermacy]

"I know someone who can" (Part 1)

1610!Miles x Confused-Black-Fem!Reader

Genre: Friends-to-lovers, Fluff, lil bit of angst

Warnings: We're like lowk cheating 😭, Cursing, Use of N Word, Google Translated Spanish, That's it I think lemme know if I missed sum 🤷🏾‍♀️

Songs that it's based on: Let Me Love You By Mario, Don't By Bryson Tiller

Summary: Basically, you get into a lil argument with your man (Jaleel) and run to Miles. You tell him that it's been like this for a while and he isn't having any of that. He tells you that you deserve better, luckily he knows someone who can provide better 😉

The IG Post:

-----------------------x-o-x-o-------------------

"You are so fucking insecure, it's unbelievable"

You say, rolling your eyes. You were sitting on Jaleel's bed, with your arms crossed. This nigga had the audacity to press you about an IG post on your PRIVATE Instagram. The post wasn't even that bad. Jaleel's been like this ever since the start of your relationship. At first. You just thought it was cute that he was a little possessive, you thought he was just showing that he cared. But now you're 4 months in and that shit just not cute anymore!

"I'm insecure? Nah I'm just responsible for you, and ion like you out here showing ya ass for all these lil niggas that are thirsting over you. You MY bitch."

Hold up...you know he ain't just say what you THINK he said. All your respect for him went out the window the second he said that. Plus, he wasn't even looking at you during this whole argument, this nigga is turned around, on his PS5, in his gaming chair, paying you no attention. You know what...you don't even care that you're at his house at this point, you're about to say what's on your mind.

"FIRST of all, I'm nobody's bitch. Second, Boy you are not responsible for me. Nigga, you ain't my daddy. You make it seem like I'm just a job, not your girlfriend. You know what...Miles WARNED me about you and I should've listene-"

You said, before getting so rudely cut off by the dreadhead in front of you. To be honest, you probably just fell for the height and hair. (Because if a 6 foot dreadhead walked up to you, you would take the opportunity too. Don't lie.)

"There you go, always talking about that nigga. 'Miles this, Miles that', since you wanna talk about him so bad why don't you just go be with him. But let me tell you something, that'll be the biggest mistake of your life. Because, he don't want yo' ass anyway. I'm the best thing you'll ever ha-"

He's cut off by the sound of you grabbing your shoes, and purse, hopping off the bed. One thing your mama has always told you is 'If you disrespect yourself, you'll allow others to disrespect you' and you weren't about to sit up here and be disrespected.

Jaleel turned around in his chair and looked at you, puzzled.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm grabbing my stuff and leaving, I'm not about to let you talk to me like this. J, I deserve so much better and that's what I'm about to go get."

You said, walking to the door. You heard him stand up out of his gaming chair and run after you. With the controller still in his hand, he stood in front of you. Blocking the exit of his apartment.

"Wait, wait, wait. Bae, I'm sorry, ok? Maybe I took it far this time but, you know you're not gonna actually leave me, right?"

He chuckled out, thinking this whole thing was a joke. Little did he know you weren't playing.

"Look, you can be delusional if you want to but I'm done."

You say, pushing past him and walking out the door. You heard faint sounds of Jaleel cursing in the background. You honestly weren't paying attention, there was just so much going through your head. You honestly couldn't believe that you just did that. You just kept your head down, continuing to walk down the hallway of the apartment complex. You felt tears well up in your eyes, not from sadness, but pure rage. You couldn't even believe that you stuck around for that long. How could you do that to yourself? Did he ever really care about you? Was he being egotistical? Was he right about you wanting to get with Miles? What are you gonna tell your mo-

You heard a little thump from your shirt rubbing against someone's jacket, dragging you out of your train of thought. You must have accidentally bumped into someone on your walk home.

"I'm sorry"

You said with a slightly congested, scratchy voice since you were just crying. Before looking up to see who it was, you recognized the Jordans and shadow of a tall, sort of lanky boy with a taper fade. Apparently he recognized you too.

"Y/N? Mami, why are you crying? Where's your jacket, you must be freezing!"

He said, pulling you into his embrace in the cold weather, wiping the tears from your eyes.

"Voy a matar a quien te haya hecho esto."

(I'm gonna kill whoever did this to you)

He muttered under his breath, still embracing you as he lead you to his home.

"I was just at Ja-"

"Shhh, you can tell me about it when we're inside so that you're warm and safe, Cariño."

(Dear)

He said as he continued speed walking the streets of Brooklyn, New York, with you wrapped in his warmth. He wanted to get to his apartment as soon as possible to make sure you're ok, you took note of that. Jaleel was wrong about a lot of things, but maybe he was right about this. Maybe you do wanna be with Miles...?

_______________________________________

This was lowk originally a one-shot but likeeeeee it's a lil more juicy when it's in chapters 😋 anyway, lemme know what yall think in the comments, I WILL REPLY BC I LOVE YALL 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

[min-kit]

Rewatching Hen Begins right now and, something interesting I've noticed (and ofc this could be for different reasons when the ep aired but based on what we know about Tommy currently, I'm going to go with my personal thought). When Hen comes into the 118 and Gerrard introduces her, Sal, Tommy, & Chim walk up. Tommy then asks "Who's this?" & he has a large smile on his face and looks excited to meet Hen but then Gerrard answers "Our new diversity hire." The moment Gerrard says that, Tommy's face falls and he looks uncomfortable and he looks at Gerrard to see his expression and make sure the vibe he's getting from Gerrard is correct (IE, sarcastic, not happy about this). Meanwhile, Sal next to Tommy doesn't even blink. He says "For real?" basically reiterating Gerrard's thoughts that Hen being their new hire is ridiculous, unbelievable.

Chimney ofc, being the GOAT, points out to Gerrard, "You know, Captain, there's another way to say that." And Gerrard is just like "Yeah. We're screwed." Sal continues to stay staring at Hen with that smug-ish asshole look on his face. Tommy, meanwhile, keeps looking at Gerrard to take his cues & when Gerrard walks away, Tommy literally follows his lead by following him.

And from that moment, Tommy joins the Boys Club with Gerrard & Sal. I think after he became friendly with Chimney, Tommy was actually excited for new people, maybe hoping things would start changing around the 118, but it's Hen who is a black woman (and a lesbian, not that they know that) & clearly that's even harder for Gerrard to get over than an Asian man cuz. Well. At least Chimney is a man.

But it's just interesting to me, and really confirms the fact that Tommy was absolutely one of the ones to make complaints. For him, he couldn't be like Chim and do this openly. He has his own secrets to hide after all. But making complaints anonymously? he could do that.

the "New York bitchiness" comment to me is certainly interesting. That was definitely really rude of him, but I don't think he meant to be insulting towards Hen necessarily... he just really hates New York and doesn't understand how saying someone has that vibe could be a compliment. adfhshfsdhhd not uncommon for an LA native to hate New York and likewise. As a person who has been to both (and lived in New York)... very different vibes.

[j-nope-not-today]

Could I request the tmnt boys being territorial with their s/o, as in their primal turtle instinct to compete/fight off other males is still there, even if they don't fully realise it?

TMNT being territorial with s/o

A/n: Hey! Thanks so much for requesting!! So sorry it took so long to do 😞 I feel this has some yandere ish vibes but I could be wrong

Raphael

You were just trying to have a nice conversation with one of your guy friends

And here comes Raphael as soon as he noticed

He shoved him as he walked past and just glared at him as he came to stand by your side.

"Raph aren't you going to say sorry?"

"No. He was in my way..You should come help me with uh..yeah."

Doesn't even finish his sentence he just picks you up and walks away with you.

Probably takes you to his lil workout area and just starts bench pressing or smth to redirect his anger

"You okay Raph?"

"Yeah..I don't know what happened..I just didn't like that you were talkin' to him."

Just give the boy hugs and love and if it happens again pull him away to exercise

Otherwise he's going to absolutely crush the guy talking to you..your his and he doesn't want to share.

Leonardo

You catch him glaring at you from across the room

Bc how dare you be talking to that insignificant speck when you could be talking to him?

He's gonna try so hard not to be rude or say something but it's so hard for him

Because your so pretty and he doesn't want anyone to steal you from him

So eventually if you don't notice his glare and go to him

He'll go to you and wrap you up in his arms and glare at the guy your talking to until he goes away

Once he does he's gonna kiss all over your face

Luckily for you he's level headed and knows to stay calm..but it wouldn't have turned out nicely if he touched you

Donatello

This is unbelievable..who does this guy think he is?

Probably just finds something to draw your attention to him

Either that or he's pulling you away because you absolutely have to see this cool thing I just made

What do you mean where is it?

He wants you to look at him and pay attention to him and talk to him

He understands why he's territorial but he can't help it..your his

He absolutely will not share you or let you be taken by someone else

Bc your his and his only and only he could live you the way you deserve

Michelangelo

????

He's so confused why your not listening to him

You were just in front of him a second ago.

But there he sees you talking to some..guy.

Oooh boy. The glare he sends your way

Not at you though..but he hopes that guy can feel his eyes burning through his skull

Most likely he's going to walk right up and intervene in your conversation

"Hey angel cakes where did you go? Who's he."

No question at the end he wants that guy to leave you alone bc he wants to take up your time and your on Mikey time rn

Will in fact pick you up and walk away if the guy keeps trying to talk with you

"Come on angel cakes we have better things to do."

[griffin-girl-r]

Sexy back

Created: 24.09.2023

Finished: 26.09.2023

Edited: 27.09.2023

Age: 19

Word count: 1,806

Warnings: Mentions of mature content

Request: No

Pairings: BlackHill, Peter Parker x Female!Reader, WinterWidow (Past mention)

Song: SexyBack by Justin Timberlake

—

"Hey, guys!" You shouted as you speed walked inside the living room "Have you seen my mom?"

The team turned their heads towards you and you saw the same look of confusion, that was etched onto your face, on their faces.

"We haven't seen her since breakfast." Steve shrugged confused "Why?"

"Do you think she might be out with someone?" You asked, looking from one person to the other "I can't find her anywhere."

"Now that you mention it..." Clint began, looking up at you "We haven't seen Hill in a while as well."

"Are they together?" Peter, your boyfriend, innocently voiced his questions "Like, in a relationship?"

"Maria?" You breathed out with a sarcastic chuckle "And my mom? Ain't no way, Pete. Maria is my godmother, for God's sake. She and Mama can't be together."

"Besides..." Tony smirked mischievously "I don't think Romanoff is into girls."

"I agree with Tony on this one." Bucky mumbled with his mouth full as he was eating a plum

"Papa." You sighed disappointed "Just because you used to bang Mama 20 years ago that doesn't mean she's still into men."

"Don't speak to your father like this!" Steve gasped "That's rude and unpolite."

"Oh, you know what, Uncle Steve?" You started walking towards him "You can suck-"

You stopped in your tracks when your ears suddenly picked up on a sound that was coming from somewhere in the compound and it was becoming louder and louder as the silence in the room grew.

'I'm bringin' sexy back.'

"Do y'all hear what I hear?" You asked confused, turning around on your heels toward the door

'Yeah!'

"Yeah." Everyone inside the room repeated as some of them nodded and the others stood up from their place

'Them other boys don't know how to act.'

"Is that a song?" Peter asked confused, making his way toward you

'Yeah!'

"I think so." You furrowed your eyebrows

'I think it's special, what's behind your back.'

"Come on." Bucky stood up from the couch "We have to see from where this is coming."

'Yeah!'

"Look, Mr. Stark!" Peter cheered excitedly "The song is agreeing with us."

Tony sighed and shook his head.

"You're unbelievable, Peter." Tony put his head in his hand

'So turn around and I'll pick up the slack.'

You grabbed your boyfriend's hand and hurriedly started to drag him upstairs.

'Take 'em to the bridge.'

A long line of people who resided in the compound were trailing behind you as you all walked up the stairs, the song becoming louder and clearer with each step you took.

'Dirty babe.'

"Is this coming from-?" You gasped, stopping in front of the door from where the music was heard

'You see these shackles baby, I'm your slave.'

"Natasha's room?!" Clint gasped and a smirk formed on his face

"I'm going in." You shook your head with a determined look on your face

'I'll let you whip me, if I misbehave.'

"Y/N, no!" Various people shouted

But it was already too late.

You opened the door with the speed of light and froze in place when you saw what was happening inside.

'It's just that no one makes me feel this way.'

The music kept blasting but it was all muffled in your ears as your brain tried to process what was happening in front of your eyes.

—

A pantless Natasha was lying handcuffed on the bed with her head thrown back, her eyes closed and her back arched as a shirtless Maria had her head in between Natasha's legs, working her magic.

"Is she..." Wanda, who appeared out of nowhere beside you, mumbled shocked

"Eating her out?" Bucky finished the sentence intrigued

"It seems so." Tony nodded, completely fascinated by the sight in front of him

"Mama?!" You shouted confused "What the fuck?!"

It was just then that the two women noticed the commotion that came from the doorway and turned their heads toward the sound.

The music suddenly stopped as both Natasha and Maria froze in their tracks.

A heavy silence settled over the room as you stared at your mother and godmother and they stared right back at you.

"Ummm..." Peter quietly began "Y/N?"

"Aunt Maria?" Your trembling voice managed to say "Mama?"

"Baby?" Natasha breathed out shocked

"Kiddo?" Maria mumbled, pulling her head back a few inches

"So this is what they meant by 'a family that sticks together.'?" You chuckled but your brain was still in shock "I'm not sure I wanted this level of stickiness!"

"Baby, we can explain." Natasha rushed to sit up, forgetting that she was handcuffed to the bed

"Well, I've heard of bringing sexy back, but I didn't realize it included bringing sexy back into the family photos!" Tony joked, completely entertained by the family drama that was about to unfold

"Well, I guess I can strike 'awkward family reunions' off my bucket list now!" Clint sighed, shaking his head while making a mental note to tell Laura all about this later

"Looks like our family tree has some interesting branches growing." Peter pointed out, his eyebrows shooting into his hairline

"I guess this means I should look forward to some really unforgettable family holiday cards." Bucky nodded, looking at Steve "Move over, Santa, it's time for some steamy mistletoe action!"

"Oh my gosh!" Tony spoke again, trying to make the situation as embarrassing as it possibly could be "I guess the 'god' in godmother must stand for 'goddess of scandal'!"

"Kid, look." Maria quickly sat up on her knees and covered Natasha's lower body with her shirt "It's not what it looks like."

"I get everything else." You mumbled, staring wide-eyed at the two women "But, why the shackles though?" You pointed towards the shackles that were keeping your mother handcuffed to the bed "Is that a kink?"

"And the music?" Steve pointed out

"Was it really necessary?" You continued

Both your mother and godmother opened their mouth to defend themselves but before they could, a sudden rush of sickness built up inside your stomach and you turned around towards your room that was right next to Natasha's.

"I can't!" You shouted, wrapping an arm around your stomach, before darting to your room with Peter hot on your heels

"F.R.I.D.A.Y.?" Tony laughed excited "I hope you recorded all of that." He told the A.I. before being interrupted by Natasha

Natasha let out a string of angrily mumbled Russian words as worry was written all over her face.

"What did she say?" Steve asked confused, pointing to Natasha with his finger

"Profanities." Bucky explained unphased, crossing his arms over his chest

—

"Sweetheart!" Natasha shouted desperately as she pulled at her restraints, trying to sit up "Y/N!"

"Kid!" Maria quickly sat up on her feet as she focused on following everybody else to your room

But there was one tiny detail that Maria had forgotten as she ran out of Natasha's bedroom.

"Maria!" Natasha screamed, catching the attention of the brunette commander who quickly ran back inside the room

"Sorry, babe." Maria gave the redhead a sheepish smile

"Open these!" Natasha shouted, pulling again at the handcuffs

Maria rushed forward, trying to open the shackles around Natasha's wrists but it took Maria three failed attempts to do so, as the key kept falling out of her hands.

"I told you we should have locked the door." Maria put her T-shirt on

"Where are my fucking pants?!" Natasha shouted back as she frantically looked around the room before spotting her jeans on the floor

"We messed up big time." Maria said, helping Natasha put her jeans on

"I'm going to kill you." Natasha threatened through gritted teeth, slapping Maria's arm before rushing to your room

"Hey!" Maria shouted offended, running after Natasha "You have to admit I did a pretty good job before we were interrupted."

Natasha rolled her eyes as she chose to ignore Maria's comment.

"I'm still hungry though if you're up for a second round later." Maria shrugged

—

"I need more!" You shouted from the top of your lungs

"Y/N, this is the third bar of soap you used in the past 10 minutes." Peter worriedly looked at you as you were bent over the sink in your bathroom "I'm not going to give you a fourth one."

"Baby, open the door!" Natasha desperately knocked on the locked door of your bathroom

"Y/N, give us a chance to explain ourselves, please." Maria pleaded from beside Natasha

"My love, please!" Natasha kept pleading, her eyes full of tears "Open the door."

"You can't keep washing your eyes with soap, Y/N." Peter tried to reason with you "It's not going to help."

"I need to wash away that awful image from my eyes, Peter." You explained, splashing your face with ice-cold water from the sink "I need to delete what I saw from my mind."

"Honey, please!" Natasha's voice said from the other side of the door

"Why the song, huh?!" You cried out "Why this song?!"

"Baby, we made a mistake." Natasha answered your question "We're sorry!"

"What about the shackles?" You shouted

"That was your mother's idea!" Maria shouted back, before getting a slap on the back of her head from Natasha

"Don't listen to her, baby." Natasha said "Please, just open this door and let's talk from girl to girl, from mother to daughter."

"And godmother." Maria jumped in, gaining another slap from Natasha

"You're such an idiot!" Natasha told Maria

"But I'm your idiot." Maria pointed out, leaning in to kiss Natasha

"Fair point." Natasha smiled, ready to receive Maria's kiss when she suddenly pulled back as she heard your scream

"Ahhhh..." You screamed, trying to stop whatever was happening on the other side of the door between Natasha and Maria "My mother and my godmother?! Banging each other on music?! No way!" You cried out

"You didn't say the same when we did it the first time on music." Peter smirked, hopping to receive a positive reaction from you

"Don't you dare mention that in front of my mother!" You threatened

"You did what?!" Natasha gasped "Peter, you're dead!"

"Miss Romanoff, it was just once, I swear." Peter defended himself

"You and my little girl can't do that yet! You're still kids!" Natasha sounded angry now "I'm going to take this door down."

"Honey, no!" You heard Maria scream

—

Maybe this wasn't the way you planned to spend your Saturday afternoon and, for sure, it wasn't the way you wanted to find out that your godmother was banging your mother, but here you were.

This day will forever remain in your family's history as a day of great embarrassment and hilarious jokes.

The day when you, unintentionally, discovered that your Aunt Maria and your Mama were eating each other's "cheerios" for pleasure.

—

Permanent taglist: @justarandomreaderxoxo , @observeowl , @mmmmokdok , @lizlil , @taliiiaasteria , @sheneonromanoff , @youralphawolf72 , @darkstar225 , @lovelyy-moonlight , @natashasnoodle , @ravensinthedaylight , @theunchosenonee , @kassies-take , @circe143

[ofmermaidstories]

Let me preface this by saying I did check your FAQ but I didn't see this there yet I still find it hard to believe no one has asked you this at least a thousand times so if they did and I just missed it I'm sorry and you can delete this ask but—

You write such beautiful, detailed fics with lots of foreshadowing that often starts from the very beginning of the story. I think you made an author note once about only posting the first chapter of a fic after you've written the whole thing (or maybe that was Andie...?). If so, is the time between updates just you going through and rereading / editing like 100k words?

Basically, I want to ask: what is your fic planning process like? From the moment you get a first idea to posting the last chapter, what does I look like? I think you're a really, really amazing (one of the absolute best if not THE best) author but I cannot fathom how one human being can write such mammoths of fanfiction and stay motivated enough to finish them.

Also you're already planning Halloween stuff ?? You plan things literally half a year in advance?? Are you even human? We don't deserve you. 😭

You called yourself lazy in the webcomic post but I think you must work unbelievably hard to make such high quality stuff and without even getting compensation for it. You're amazing and I'm very thankful to exist in the right timeline and fandom to read your work. :,)

(oh my god this became such a ramble I'm sorry)

Oh Ari. 🥺 Hello.

I update as I write! So that was probably Andie, lmao, who’s definitely the better example to follow when it comes to plotting/completing a fic. 🥺 She’s amazing and if I could fashion myself after any other writer in our niche, it would be Andie hands down!

But okay, let’s get into it. 📝

A little disclaimer, before we start; I did not go to school for any of this lmfao. The most relevant education I have behind me is a extra-circular literature class I had during my last two years of high-school. The only reason the following works for me is because I’ve cobbled it together from years of trial and error. You can read advice and watch youtube videos about the writing habits of famous authors, but you have to tailor everything you hear to suit you and the way you work. The best advice in the world from the highest paid author in the world won’t work if you’re not wired in the same way! You have to take everything about yourself and what you like and what you want into account!

Part I—first we take Manhattan

start ur fic lol

First thing’s first; I’m a plotter. I don’t pants. If I pants, I lose interest—I need to have the final vision in front of me, even if it’s just a bullet point. I have to know what I’m working towards. That is crucial to literally everything I do. Every fic you see on AO3, every WIP I’ve mentioned working on or wanting to work on—I have always known two things about them, immediately: the hook that gets us in there, and how they end.

So for fics in particular, the start might look something like—I get an idea (I want Reader and Bakugou to kiss). And then I sit there and I brainstorm to myself (What’s stopping them from kissing? Why does Reader want to kiss someone so rude when there’s so many other nice boys out there? Is Reader particularly kissable?). And then, if I’m lucky, I think of an ending (Reader and Bakugou finally kiss, but he’s the one that initiates it, because he’s always wanted to, because he likes that Reader always wears a yellow coat to work—it’s ugly and it sticks out among the black and tan ones of the crowd but he comes to associate it—and thus Reader—with routine and his mornings going well).

This is often the most fragile time of an idea. That hook (Reader and Bakugou kiss) might fall apart with a bit more prodding (why would they kiss? Reader’s a stranger to him; most of us don’t go around kissing random strangers just because we like their coats). Or maybe the hook sticks (they spend almost years in orbit around each other, a constant near-miss) but the ending doesn’t work (I don’t know how to move Bakugou to a position where he can kiss Reader, where he has the opportunity to). For every idea you see in action, or listed, there’s like three more that died during this stage and are now being cannibalised for spare parts.

Part II—running up that hill (a deal with fic)

work work work

If our idea survives, we then move to the “throw everything at the wall and see what sticks” stage; which manifests itself in this case as a doc, where I’ll just write any and all ideas I have for this little world so far.

For fanfics, it’ll generally look like—

TITLE

SUMMARY: Bakugou and Reader kiss.

(in which Bakugou first notices you because of your ugly yellow coat)

📝 Reader is allergic to diary products; for ages Bakugou thinks of her as That Cheesy Extra, because of the colour of her coat. She laughs when she eventually learns about this. (“I can’t even eat cheese,” you complain)

📝 Reader stops walking past the coffee shop Bakugou gets his coffee at, one day; moves??? Leaves the city to help a friend out for a few months. Despite himself it throws Bakugou off-kilter, and when he sees someone (not Reader) in a yellow coat during a villian attack, he momentarily loses focus—gets injured???? The news of his injury makes the news, Reader sees it in Bumblah nowhere.

📝 Her coat is donated accidentally by a roommate, in a mix up, for a charity she’s volunteering at; when Reader returns to the city, she has to make do with a new one, a more neutral colour. Bakugou recognises her anyway and that’s when he realises it was never about the coat (!!!!)

Like, this is actually a pretty good approximation of what all my current fics have looked like, at that stage, before I tidied them up and refined them into proper outlines. Because that’s what will happen next, once we have a rough idea of what we want! Things get moved, or removed—tightened. A rough plot outline takes shape! If I get any ideas for a sequel or a spin off that I might want to do, I’ll note them here (Reader’s roommate, Roomie, who’s working at a charity—eventually meets Shinsou, who’s working on a case. She thinks he’s homeless; he doesn’t realise. They carry on like this for a while.)

Once I have a rough outline (rough meaning in bulletpoints), I’ll start on my more in-depth outlines—I do these chapter by chapter! I say this a lot, but they’re basically a really rough version of said chapter. So it might look like:

Reader’s walking to work; it’s cold enough that’s she’s wearing her coat. There’s a new coffee-shop opened on the corner—it’s full, popular, you think it might be because it’s at a crossroads between two different Pro Hero agencies. Reader glances at the window, interested, but then a friend calls out and you hurry along. Bakugou, inside the coffee-shop waiting for Half and Half to get his order, is affronted; your coat is ugly as shit, and he complains loudly about it to Shouto, who mentions something about Baku. having no room to complain about ugly colour choices.

The swap between Reader/You happens a lot because I’m not using my brain properly, at this stage—I’m just shovelling the sand I need into the sandbox. Once I finish my shovelling, I go back and I rewrite it—but better, LMAO. I flesh things out, I throw things away as needed, I add things in. It’s basically really, really intensive handholding and I would not recommend it for anyone who’s already daunted by the idea of plotting; I do it because if I don’t have a chaperone there (aka my outline) then I’m prone to getting distracted. I am basically the fanfic equivalent of the undiagnosed ADHD kid at the back of the class that only gets work done when they’re sat right in front of the teacher (and even then, there’s like a 50% chance it’s not actually work that’s happening but doodles of that weird pointy S thing over and over again).

Once it’s done, though, we have a completed chapter! I then post it and wait like a little crab under some rocks for people to be tricked into being nice to me, and then I dig back in and think nice thoughts about repeating this process to get chapter two. Eventually I will—and viola! Another chapter! We repeat that over and over until we get to the end of our original outline and we have a finished story. 😌📖

Part III—you’re on your own kid

motivation

No one ever likes this part, or what I’m about to say, because at best it sounds like saccharine fodder and at worse it’s out of touch with most people’s experiences in fandom, but—the only way to stay motivated when doing a long-haul fic is that you have to do it for yourself.

People are so kind to me, about the fics I’ve done; it’s part luck and part what I choose to write and part how I write it. And I mean—I share them because I want a little bit of attention, lmao, that’s natural because we’re humans, we all want attention. But here’s the thing, here’s the secret—I take these fics 110% deadly seriously. LOL. That sounds like a joke, but I do! I do that because it’s how I’m built and how I keep myself interested in them—because taking them seriously means I’m more invested in realising the ending I’ve imagined for them since day one.

If other people stopped being so nice about what I was writing, I would be sad—anyone would. 🥺 We all want to be told that we’ve done a good job. But I’ve had the ending for the Deku fic, for example, in my head since it’s predecessor was on-going. That is literal years of knowing how I want Izuku and Scribble’s story to end. If everyone disappeared tonight I would sulk, hardcore, and then I would finish that last chapter anyway. I would finish it because I’ve spent so much time and energy working on that story that not finishing it is a disservice to the world I built around those characters and most importantly to myself. I probably wouldn’t stress as much about it, LOL, if the audience shrunk back down to just me, but I’d still do it. 🥺

I write—and try to finish—these fics because I deserve to see them finished. I want the completed tick, on ao3. I want to look at it and know that I can do it—that I can start something as simple as Bakugou hating on some rando’s yellow coat, and bring it to the finish-line where they finally come together, and see each other, without the yellow coat or through a coffee-shop window.

And this is what I mean by like, tailoring things to suit you—because I know others might be perfectly content to imagine the ending for themselves, without writing it. Or maybe they don’t want to treat fic seriously, because it’s fun escapism. Maybe disappointment that it’s not received like they thought it would be sours the whole experience of fandom for someone—there’s no right or wrong to this. I know I can write for an audience of just me because I’ve done it before. The satisfaction has always come back to the same thing—knowing I finished it, and wrapped that world up as best as I could. You have to pick and choose your poison—and then you have to run with it.

I hope that answers at least some of your questions, Ari. 🥺 Thank-you for such a thoughtful ask; for being so sweet. 🥺 You’re amazing, and I’m the thankful one—I’m glad we’re here, together. 🌷🌾✨📖

[tigermarimo]

Okay this is my first fanfic like ever. English is not my native language. But I just wanted to write about small misunderstanding between Slytherin boys. Timeline-wise could be anywhere but probably before everything went to shit. Nothing explicit, just boys being idiots. Hope you like it.

If there's any mistakes please tell me!

I want my friend only to myself.

Sebastian Sallow/Ominis Gaunt + Slytherin male OC (no name).

Sebastian hated the new guy. Well, ok. Maybe «hated» is a big word – he did reveal the Undercroft for him after all - but he definetely felt something vile every time he heard that bastard talking to Ominis. Even now, sitting in the common room and pretending to do his potions essay, he looked over to the corner where his friends were talking about something enthusiastically.

- Ominis, darling, how unbecoming of you! You know you can't just say things like that about headmaster Black! – And they both laughed.

- OmINiS dARlInG, – mockingly muttered Sebastian, not quiet enough for the others not to hear.

New fifth year looked back at him with puzzled look, but didn't say anything, just lowered his voice and started whispering to Ominis.

Unbelievable! Fuming, Sebastian got up and quickly left the dungeons. He thought to go to the Undercroft, but decided against it. They both knew that's where he usually goes to sulk, and he really didn't want to talk to any of them right now. So he just wandered the halls, until he found some quiet place on the 7th floor, with nothing but a few portraits who weren't really interested in boy's troubles.

He felt like an idiot: every time he saw his friends being so close together he just blew up with some rude remarks. And didn't really understood the annoyance, that bubbled up with every «darling» he heard from the new Slytherin. This irrational anger was starting to poison their friendship with Ominis. What is wrong with him?! Was he just jealous that Ominis had someone new to talk to? Was he being an idiot about the whole «darling» thing? He did hear the new guy say this to literally everyone (he even heard him call professor Fig «darling» once, couldn't believe his ears then), so why is it only for Ominis he felt this rage?

While moping around and being self-loathing and overall miserable, Sebastian didn't hear the careful steps and was startled by the sound of his own name.

- Sebastian, we need to talk, it can't keep going on like this! – His friend stood before him in his weird outfit, face lit up with some weird emotion, that Sebastian couldn't quite categorise. Was it pity?

Sebastian couldn't bear the thought of someone pitying him. So he attacked.

- What? Come to mock the third-wheeling idiot who doesn't understand your intellectual jokes? – Sebastian looked his classmate in the eyes, trying to convey all of his rage in one look. – Why is Ominis not with you, I thought you do everything together now? No need for Sebastian!

- I… what? What are you talking about?! No one is here to mock…!

Sebastian arms flew up uncontrollably and interrupted whatever he was going to say.

- Do you think I do not see how you and Ominis talk to each other? How you call him dARlInG all the time?! You don't call anyone «darling» with THAT intonation! Do you think I do not understand what is happening? Found yorself a pretty boy, think you can just take him from me? I was his friend first! You, you just came here! Why did I even showed you the Undercroft, you probably go there together all the time to speak about me and laugh or something! – He was riling himself up with every sentence, voice getting louder, hands clenched into fists.

New student was just standing there, listening to his tirade, brows slightly furrowed, but lips in half-smile. That made Sebastian even angrier.

- WHAT ARE YOU SMILING ABOUT?! AM I THAT FUNNY?!

- You are actually, - Slytherin smiled brightly. – But the reason in not what you think.

- What the fuck?! – Sebastian opened his mouth to start screaming again, but fifth year stopped him by putting a finger to his lips and pressing lightly.

- Now, my darling, listen to what I have to say and after that you can scream all you want. – He smirked and continued. – Whatever it is you think is between me and Ominis is entirely in your head.

He moved his finger from Sebastian's lips to his forehead and lightly tapped it. Sebastian frowned and shook his head to get rid of the hand intruding on his personal space. New student just smiled and continued.

- I'll be honest with you, Sebastian, I love him more than anyone or anything in the world…

- I knew it, you!... – Another's finger was on his lips again.

- Shh, let me finish. I more than just love him – I am obsessed. And I'm pretty sure the feeling is familiar to you. If anything, or anyone, - he looked at Sebastian eyes, - hurt him, I will find a way to destroy them in the cruelest way possible.

Sebastian looked at him in shock.

- What are you telling me all that for? I would never hurt Ominis! You on the other hand!

- Do you like my finger that much, Sebastian? Please just let me finish. What I'm trying to say is that: yes, I have feelings for Ominis, but they are not romantic. You see, I don't feel desires like that. I do not want to hold his hand, I do not want to kiss him, I do not want ho have sex with him or whatever it is you think about us. I just want him happy and safe. And frankly, lately he has not been very happy. Care to guess why?

Sebastian face felt hot after those words, it's not like he wanted to kiss Ominis or something, why was he telling all this to him? Ominis was his best friend and he was just feeling like he was losing him. That's all. Right?

New guy looked at him funny and continued.

- Ominis is quite distressed with the way his best friend is treating him and his new friend. So, my suggestion is this: you stop being clueless idiot and confess to him that you like him. I may not be in the picture and you don't need to worry about me trying to snog him, but let me tell you – there's a lot of candidates.

Sebastian twitched at those words.

- What do you mean confess! I'm not! I don't like him or anything! What are you talking about?!

Fifth year smiled again and sighed.

- Sebastian, let me tell you as your friend, it is SO obvious you like him. You're with him every day, trying to make him laugh, every time I come along you suddenly become super grumpy and jealous, trying to put me down with every word. I see how you look at him when you think no one is noticing. Just be honest with yourself and with Ominis.

That was true. He did look at Ominis a lot, but it was just to see if he's okay and if he needs any help – he tried to reason with himself. But Ominis wasn't helpless. And most of the time Sebastian looked at his hair and thought about how perfect they are styled. He looked at his eyes and thought about things that they reminded him of: night sky, lake behind their common room windows, lit with sun beams, bright sapphires. He looked at his moles and often imagined where else on his body they could be. He looked at his lips and… Sebastian clapped his cheeks to get out of his spiraling thoughts.  

- I… Fine, okay, you are right! I do like him! And I will tell him! Eventually… - his voice got quieter at the end.

His friend shook his head, knowingly squeezed Sebastian's shoulder and started to turn around to leave, but turned back to say one last thing.

- I do believe you will make Ominis happy, but if you hurt him in any way I will kill you Sebastian. So beware.

He winked with a grin, waved goodbye and disappeared into Hogwarts corridors.

Sebastian made a mental note to NOT teach him Avada kedavra.

[stackofstories]

Nico drowned.

Nico reached out in the icy depths unable to summon the strength to push his legs and arms forward. Absolute terror engulfed him. Bianca, help!

He was filled with water.

Black edged Nico's vision. Distantly, his ears rang. He recognized it as the knell of his own death. Small bubbles rose as he descended.

If drowning wasn't already on his list of the suckiest things to currently happen to him, Nico spotted a dark shadow in the water zipping toward him. His eyes widened when he saw a mouthful of large, razor-sharp teeth, and beady bloodthirsty eyes glossed over in terrifying ebony.

A shark!

It lunged toward him.

More air bubbles escaped Nico. There was nowhere to dodge. He crossed his arms in front of him. No! Please don't eat me! he thought frantically just as the shark sank its powerful teeth into his left side.

Pain, unbelievable pain coursed through him. Nico let out a soundless scream. More water rushed inside of him filling him until there was nothing but seawater and pain. The awful ringing in his ears grew louder. He wanted to escape and go where there was no more pain.

Nico knew only darkness, and then nothing.

Nothing didn't last long.

In what felt like the next moment, Nico inhaled once and shot up. He twisted in half circles to the left and right, expecting to be adrift in the sea and to see his sister's scowling face and her dark wet curls clinging to her forehead. Instead, he was greeted to the sight of a kid. They were a boy or girl, he wasn't too sure, with long blond hair and two ivory, bull horns curving out the sides of their head, they wore small pink hoop earrings(1). If that wasn't strange enough, their mouth was wide open in what looked like a permanent state of surprise. Nico saw two rows of triangle teeth stained in red. A trail of ruby dripped down their lips drizzling onto their shirt and pink shorts.

Nico swallowed. He looked down. Part of his shirt and aviator jacket were torn away. Blood gushed from his wound. Gently, he reached down and touched. He winced at the needles of pain pushing through his skin as he traced over each bleeding crescent indentation. He wasn't missing his entire left side so he was grateful for the small miracles.

"You bit me!" Nico accused. He knit his brow. "That's disgusting and rude! Were you raised by wolves?"

"I'm half-fishman and you made a big splash," they said with a dismissive shrug. "How'd you do that thing with the shadows? We were in the ocean. Now, we're on land. How did you do that? Giolla says devil fruit users can't use the powers underwater. They're despised by the sea."

"I don't have any powers. At least, I don't think I have any powers," Nico said. He hadn't been claimed yet. Grover said it would be soon. "What's a fishman? That wasn't in the orientation video."

The blond kid wiped their mouth with the back of their hand. They stood up. Nico raised an eyebrow when he saw their pink mary janes. "I think I better take you to Doflamingo."

Nico blinked and he was still. He realized two things.

He was alone and this was not an attic.

Before being bitten, before the darkness, before the drowning, he had been in an attic and he saw a real treasure chest. Inside the treasure chest, there had been a single fruit and he had taken a bite because he was curious and hungry.

"Bianca isn't going to be happy if I meet a flamingo without her permission."

The kid giggled in a high-pitched fashion. Nico managed a trembling smile of his own.

He tried to get to his feet and he quickly discovered that was a terrible idea. At this moment, his limbs weighed two tons each. There was no moving.

"We have to go now. I can't miss dinnertime with the Family. Baby Five is planning to kill Doffy because he killed her fourth boyfriend. I don't understand why she keeps getting boyfriends. She has to know Doffy is just going to kill them. She's so stupid sometimes. "

"Some other time," Nico tried. "I have to meet my sister and Grover. They're waiting for me right now. Please." He wasn't able to run the other direction, but he could scoot. He scooted his boot back. His hands and feet made little depressions on the ground.

"It won't be bad. I think you'll have a real chance to join the Family, unlike the others. It's so funny." The kid covered their mouth with their hand, though it did little good. Nico saw their lips still curled up in a cruel smile. "Doffy doesn't like any of them, especially the new one—Bellamy."

"I can't," Nico rejected. "I already have a family."

The blond just laughed and shot in front of him with a murderous gleam in their eyes. Yelping, Nico flinched back and fell to the soft ground. Sand, he recognized.

"Go away!" Nico shouted. "I don't want to see your homicidal flamingo or Baby Five! I don't want to join your family of villains! You all sound like you belong in an asylum."

Nico wasn't entirely sure if that was a fair assumption to make, but it felt good to say. With his shout, the ground underneath them shook. The blond paused for a split second. Nico read confusion in their dark eyes.

"Did you do that?" they asked. "I thought only Whitebeard…" he trailed off. "I can't let you slip through my fingers. If I turn you in, Doffy will let me fight in the Colosseum."

They reached to grab him and Nico squeezed his eyes shut.

"Leave him alone!"

Nico opened his eyes to see a toy soldier come out of nowhere and slam headfirst into the blond kid.

The blond kid was knocked sideways. They got up quickly. Their black eyes turned a ruby red. "A Toy!" he hissed. "Sugar says no toy can harm a human and they must obey the Family! I command you to stop!"

In front of Nico, there was a toy soldier about the same height as Nico while sitting on his bottom. The toy soldier wore a large, glossy top hat like Abraham Lincoln and held a long white-painted bayonet in his hands. Nico wanted to touch the giant yellow windup on its back.

"Um." Nico looked between the half-fishman and toy soldier. "What."

"Sit tight," the Toy Soldier said and Nico's eyes nearly popped out his sockets. "You can talk!"

"Of course," Toy Soldier said, his mouth opened and his blue painted eyes did not blink. "I heard your cry of help and I came to save you. I should have known it would come from someone being harassed by the Donquixote Family. It is unfortunate, my opponent is so young."

"You'll pay for that!" the blonde kid growled. They lifted their leg to point their heel at the Toy Soldier. "I'll smash your wooden head in!" They darted forward.

Toy Soldier met them in the middle.

Surprise quickly turned into awe. In two short moves, Toy Soldier used his bayonet and sent the kid flying through the air into a crumpled heap. Nico winced in sympathy when he saw the kid in a sad, unmoving pile just a few feet away from him.

"Don't worry about the young fishman," Toy Soldier said as he put a cold wooden hand on Nico's shoulder, "I only knocked him out, but he'll wake up soon and go running to his family. We have to go now. I can't fight them and protect you at the same time. "

"He?" Nico asked. "They were a he?"

Toy Soldier opened his mouth and his eyes seemed to widen. "Dellinger is part fishman though I can't be certain of the gender expression Dellinger feels most comfortable with. At any rate, we must go."

Nico nodded, then flushed red. "I can't stand up."

Toy Soldier slipped his bayonet on his back and Nico was gently scooped up off the ground.

"Whoa—hey!" Nico said, flushing further. "You're just a toy. How can you be this strong?"

"You're bleeding." Toy Soldier paid no attention to his surprise, instead he was held closer. "Don't move so much."

Nico listened. Arguing took energy. Nico had only enough energy to not fall asleep in the Toy Soldier's cold arms. He conserved the last bit of energy for the essentials like breathing and not freaking out. The freakout would come later. So, he settled down for the ride.

The ride wasn't the smoothest.

"What happened to your other leg?" Nico asked.

Almost immediately he regretted the question. If Bianca were here, he knew she would have jabbed him in the ribs for being so rude.

Toy Soldier hopped up and down on a yellow-brick road. For a whole minute, Nico accepted that Toy Soldier didn't want to answer the question.

"I failed to protect those I loved." Toy Soldier's deep voice cracked. He sounded like he was on the edge of tears.

Nico kept his mouth shut after that. It was a solid hour of mildly uncomfortable hopping. The scenery changed from the beaches to the green hills and acres of tall sunflowers, and then, a brightly colored town. In the far distance, he noticed a tall stone column. If he squinted hard he saw a visage of a tiny building atop the tall column. Toy Soldier didn't bring him into the center of the town where Nico glimpsed at the people and toys coexisting. He and Toy Soldier kept to the edges of the town twisting into back alleys where the bright colors of the buildings were exchanged for somber greys and blacks.

If this were anyone else Nico might have been scared, but he felt an implicit trust for the Toy Soldier that saved him from the fishman kid.

Toy Soldier brought him to an area that looked half-burnt and mostly empty. There were a few children covered in dirt playing with a ball fashioned out of old rags and twine. They blinked curiously at them but otherwise were focused on their game. Toy Soldier brought him to a small coral colored house. In a feat of strength, Toy Soldier passed him to one arm and opened the door with the other.

"Rebecca, get the whiskey and bring out some rags," Toy Soldier said sternly as he entered the home.

A pink-haired girl, younger than Nico, but around the same age as Dellinger pushed back her wooden chair and jumped down. She ran to them, and then, braked. Her pink eyebrows rose and her kind brown eyes glanced between him and Toy Soldier.

Nico waved awkwardly. "I'm Nico."

"You look like death." Rebecca turned around and hurried to do as she was bid.

That stung. However, it wasn't the first time someone attributed death to him. Bianca told him he slept like the dead too.

Toy Soldier placed him on the bed and Nico hissed as the roughspun covers brushed against his skin. Toy Soldier flushed red and bent in an awkward way, clapping his hands. "Don't focus on the pain. Focus on me!" Toy Soldier bent this way and that. "Toys are supposed to make children happy not sad."

Nico laughed.

"Oh! Oh! Oh! Am I funny?"

Nico nodded at Toy Soldier with a bright grin. To Nico, Toy Soldier was the embodiment of Dad Jokes. Not funny, but he made Nico forget about the tension all the same with his cringey behavior.

Nico watched Toy Soldier bend himself into all types of shapes that would make the world's best gymnast jealous. Rebecca came over with a large jug and multicolored clothes under her arm. Suddenly, all the humor in Nico spilled out. Toy Soldier gestured to the whiskey bottle and left Rebecca to hold the towels.

Rebecca put the towels on the edge of the bed. She helped him undress. There was some blushing involved on Nico's part because a girl that wasn't his sister was touching him and looking at him in a state of undress. Well, it was close to a state of undress, if his arms weren't so heavy he would have crossed them over his chest. Rebecca stood aside and let Toy Soldier take her position. The whiskey bottle in Toy Soldier's hand was thrust in front of him.

Nico swallowed.

"It's going to sting," Toy Soldier warned as he uncorked the bottle. "Be brave."

Wait. What was going to sting?

Then, a bright burning. Nico seized and howled as Toy Soldier poured the brown liquid all over the bite. The sound of his heart was loud in Nico's ears, he gnashed his teeth and he curled his fingers into fists as Toy Soldier kept pouring and pouring for what felt like an eternity.

Finally, Toy Soldier pulled back and Nico was left with fire in his veins.

"I'm going to wipe it clean now," Rebecca said.

As soft as her voice, Rebecca wiped his side down in small sections. It didn't soothe the fire swirling inside of him, but it did calm him down until Nico laid back down on the bed. He reached up and touched the sweat on his brow. "All clean."

"I apologize for putting you through that, Nico," Toy Soldier said as he took his turn inspecting the bite, "but I have known a great many warriors die from a little cut if it wasn't cleaned. I think you'll survive. Good job!"

Nico nodded. He understood, but he wasn't quite ready to accept the apology. It still hurt. At least, Toy Soldier and Rebecca didn't mention anything about stitches.

"Do you need help with dinner?" Toy Soldier turned to Rebecca. He placed a hand on her elbow and Rebecca shook her head.

"All right. I'll change the sheets now before I go." Toy Soldier nodded. He set his bayonet down on the wooden bedpost.

Go where? Nico wondered what Toy Soldier meant by that, but he wasn't about to open his mouth and ask more rude questions. "I'm sorry to bring Nico here without any notification. We'll sort him out tomorrow if you're fine with him staying the night."

Rebecca nodded. "I'm glad to have someone. It won't be so lonely when Toy Soldier leaves."

Toy Soldier bent his head. "Rebecca," he sighed, then perked. "Toys are supposed to make children happy. I shall try to make you two very happy before I leave."

On his one leg, Toy Soldier made several circles and bowed. Nico and Rebecca shared a single glance before they burst into a round of applause.

"Toy Soldier is lucky I did the laundry today," Rebecca playfully chided.

Nico was moved to the small table in the middle of the room. Far from complaining, he was happy to observe Toy Soldier and Rebecca work together. They were a dynamic team. It was clear the two were extremely comfortable together. Nico wondered what their relationship was. Perhaps, Toy Soldier had been given to Rebecca by a parent.

Nico blinked. He had yet to meet an adult. He saw them as Toy Soldier zipped past the bustling city center, but was there no older adult in this home that took responsibility? Toy Soldier acted sort of like a parent to him, and even more so toward Rebecca, but he was certain that Rebecca was human. Where were Rebecca's parents?

That was a question Nico knew not to ask. In Westover, that was the question that always annoyed him the most. Most of the kids in Westover had parents in the military or parents in higher up government positions. Sure, the kids there didn't see their parents often, but their parents sent them letters and presents on their birthdays, called them on the phone, visited on special weekends or dances. It was quickly known that he and Bianca didn't have that. They were the orphans of Westover Academy only there as a charity case. Never mind that they weren't actually orphans. He and his sister had a father. Sure, their father was an absent father (who was actually a god), but Nico didn't argue with the mean kids at Westover over that point. He preferred being an orphan over a bastard.

"It's sundown," Rebecca said. She pointed to the only window in the tiny house. It was sundown. Nico was a little surprised by how quickly time passed.

"It is. I have to go." Toy Soldier smoothed the nonexistent creases out of the bedspread and fluffed the pillows once more. He hopped to the door. "We will talk early tomorrow morning before I go to work, Nico. We'll see if we can get you to your parents. Rebecca—"

"Right here." Rebecca was at the door. She opened her arms and gave Toy Soldier a hug. "I'll see you tomorrow too, and I will lock the door behind you."

"Yes, always remember to lock the door after I leave. I'll—"

"Leave a petal—"

"Two petals, one for you and one for Nico, on the windowsill. Goodnight, Rebecca."

Toy Soldier left. The door shut behind him firmly, and Nico heard the sound of his hopping outside of the window. He listened until he could not. Rebecca reached on her tippy toes and locked the door as she said. She turned to him with a bright smile.

"Hungry? We have stew."

Nico's stomach growled.

Rebecca was the most responsible little kid he had ever seen. In quick order, she balanced two full bowls and cups to their little table. She gave him his dinner first, then sat across from him with a wide grin. She dug in. Nico was a little more hesitant.

"You're not from around here," Rebecca said.

Nico raised an eyebrow. "What makes you say that?"

She gave him a dubious look.

"Ok, I'm not from around here."

Rebecca hummed.

"Where is here?" Nico asked stirring his stew.

"Dressrosa."

"Dress Robes?"

"Dressrosa," Rebecca repeated slowly. "It's an island in the New World. Where are you from? Paradise?"

Nico blinked. Dressrosa was in the New World. He had heard of the New World before in social studies. It was part of the lands and oceans that Christopher Columbus came across when he went the wrong way to get to India.

"Venice. It's in Italy." Nico tried some of the stew. Once he ate one bite, another followed. He pushed some food to the side of his cheek creating a little pouch. "And then, we moved to D.C., but before that, I think we stayed at another place. We came back to D.C. I think. I can't remember..." Nico scrunched his face. It always made his head hurt when he thought about it for too long. "But, I was in Maine for school, then New York City for, um, camp, and now I'm here. In Dressrosa."

"Wow, I can't believe you lived on all of those islands. I thought only marines and pirates traveled that much," Rebecca said. "What sea are you from?"

"The Adriatic and Atlantic."

Rebecca's eye twitched. "There are only four seas in the world." She sounded like she wanted to say duh, you big dummy. "The North Blue, East Blue, West Blue, and South Blue. The New World has the West and North Blue."

"Oh," Nico said in a small voice.

"You really aren't from here."

"Yeah." Nico saw that clear as day, a sinking feeling started in the pit of his stomach.

Rebecca glanced at her bowl. The subject dropped.

"Where did Toy Soldier go?" Nico asked.

If possible Rebecca looked even more uncomfortable.

"All toys have to go to the Toy House before midnight. King Doflamingo's rules."

"A flamingo is king here?" Rebecca giggled with Nico's shock, and then stopped when Nico added, "Dellinger said the same thing."

"Doflamingo is no flamingo though he wears an incredibly ugly coat of pink feathers." Rebecca stuck her tongue out. "He's the King of Dressrosa and the captain of the Donquixote Pirates. Dellinger is part of the Donquixote Pirates."

"Really? I didn't know pirates let babies in."

Rebecca sniffed, "A baby that was strong enough to kick your butt. You're lucky Dellinger is pretty weak compared to the rest of the family. If you ran into Diamante, you'd be dead. He's a real monster."

Nico hummed. "It sounds like you know a lot about the Donquixote Pirates."

Rebecca blinked at him three times, each time, her eyes grew more glossy and her bottom lip wobbled. Nico had really stuck his foot in it, again. She scrubbed her eyes and kept eating. Nico did the same.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

The title won me over, I like to strongly believe that wildest dreams is about Matthew

He’s about to go back into the room when a pair of arms wrap tightly around his middle, and he lets out a breathless laugh. “Hey, angel.”

OH, WE SLEEP TOGETHER??

Spencer, as you have learned, is essentially a human furnace. He exudes so much warmth both figuratively and literally that you have saved probably hundreds of dollars in electricity bills. He is so unbelievably warm and he always gives the best hugs, wrapping his arms around your frame and tracing circles into your skin.

I NEED A HUG FROM THIS MAN. IT'S WINTER NOW, I'M COLD

It is within moments like these where it becomes glaringly obvious that Spencer is no longer the naive ‘kid’ he was when he began working at the BAU. He’s grown into himself now, filling out his dress shirts better and wearing an easy smile on his face. Spencer has always been attractive, all of the girls who loved him before are a testament to that (no matter how bitter you are when coming to this realisation), but he’s now a lot more comfortable with it. He likes to say that you are a big part of that journey. You would simply tell him that the growth was his to make.

Honestly, one of the things I like about Reid's character development is the confidence he gains. That makes him like... sexier, you know?

“I swear she’s only doing this because it’s compulsory at her high school,” you lament, turning around to face him. “And she is so rude. You should have heard what she said to Veronica, Walter, it was insane. Like, she swore in front of a client. In front of a child.”

It's so nice that there are these domestic talks

“You and Spencer have been together for, what, two and a half years?” He asks as he looks over to where Spencer is showing magic tricks to Henry.

SORRY WHAT??? a moment ago we were just courting the poor boy!!

He holds the penny up to your face before snapping his fingers and, lo and behold, the penny was out of sight. He shows both his hands, front and back, a boyish smile on his face. Henry claps at the display, squealing and brushing his long hair away from his face.

Spencer with children>>>>>

“Auntie Penelope is basically a fairy godmother,” you tell Henry in explanation, chuckling. “Like in Cinderella.”

I LOVE YOU PENELOPE GARCIA

You smile innocently as he puts the car into drive, heading off to who knows where. “Have I ever told you that I love you?” “Tell me again,” he prompts, resting his hand on the inside of your thigh as he keeps his eyes on the road.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH PLEASE MERCYYYY

He hums in affirmation. “I heard it’s pretty this time of day. I wanted to take you out somewhere nice, but I don’t know when we’ll have a case next so I figured that this would be the perfect time.”

Is he going to propose something? my god, I hope so

The words die at your tongue upon the sight before you. Spencer, in his once neat suit and tie and all his germaphobic tendencies kneeling on the cold concrete, holding a velvet ring box in his hand. The box looks comically small in his palms as he looks up at you, his eyes glossed over and a tearful smile on his face.

I KNEW IT, I KNEW IT. MY SIXTH SENSE TOLD ME

He chokes out a quiet laugh as you take a step closer to him, wiping the tears away from his eyes. “I had a speech prepared and everything,” he says, embracing the feel of your warm hands on his cheeks. “I can’t even remember what I was going to say.”

HE IS SO FUCKING CUTE

In that moment, as he kisses you on the sidewalk in the pouring rain, you could have sworn that you felt sparks fly.

LIKE THE NAME OF THE FIC???? TELL ME THIS IS NOT THE END

Well, I didn't know how long this would be and when I didn't look at a prompt for "next chapter" a little tear escaped my eyes.

I really enjoyed this, it's short, concise and feels truly magical. You had me hooked the whole time and I swear that closing was awesome, it was like... I don't know, just perfect.

Thank you for this! Keep writing as you do until now, it is worth letting the world see what you have to tell us

And congratulations for the followers! You deserve many more and I know they will come for your art

Kisses and hugs <3

07 — wildest dreams

summary: “he’s so tall, and handsome as hell”/”his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room.” pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, slow burn warnings: rated 16+ for lots of kissing hehehe, reader wears a dress + makeup, a final ‘eff u!!’ to jeid LOL wc: 3.3k a/n: we have finally reached the end! thank you all so much for your support during this little project 😚💕 massive thank you to @astrophileous for beta-reading this entire project! congratulations again for finishing your thesis!! SERIES MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

Spencer yawns softly as he steps out of bed, running his fingers through his unruly hair. He finally got it cut a few days ago and, even though it’s a lot shorter than what he is used to, he really likes it. After putting on his shirt that has fallen haphazardly to the floor the previous night, he walks into the kitchen to fix himself a cup of tea. 

He stirs the sugar with a spoon tiredly, his vision blurry from both the lack of sleep and the lack of glasses. The muscles of his thighs quiver with each step and he grimaces. Maybe he should start working out with Morgan. He dismisses the thought immediately. He still wants to live. 

He’s about to go back into the room when a pair of arms wrap tightly around his middle, and he lets out a breathless laugh. “Hey, angel.”

You grunt out a noncommittal greeting, your forehead resting between his shoulderblades as you continue to hug him. “Why’d you go?”

“I was thirsty,” he responds, turning around to hug you back. You’re wearing one of his t-shirts that you stole and he glows with pride, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “What’re you doing up, darling?”

“You left,” you respond groggily, leaning into his touch. “Got cold.”

Spencer, as you have learned, is essentially a human furnace. He exudes so much warmth both figuratively and literally that you have saved probably hundreds of dollars in electricity bills. He is so unbelievably warm and he always gives the best hugs, wrapping his arms around your frame and tracing circles into your skin. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, kissing the side of your face. “Go back to bed, angel. I’ll be there in a second, okay?”

You merely nod in response, reaching up and planting a firm kiss to his chin before padding back into your room, burying yourself under the covers. He arrives soon after, shuffling closer to you and pulling you in so that your nose is against his sternum. His fingers find the knots in your hair, skillfully and carefully untangling them. He feels you yawn as he continues his ministrations, and he presses yet another kiss to your head.

“You should move in,” you mumble against his chest, creeping a hand up under his shirt and brushing your nails against his spine.

He shudders at the contact, a quiet groan leaving his lips. “Yeah? You think I should move in?”

It is within moments like these where it becomes glaringly obvious that Spencer is no longer the naive ‘kid’ he was when he began working at the BAU. He’s grown into himself now, filling out his dress shirts better and wearing an easy smile on his face. Spencer has always been attractive, all of the girls who loved him before are a testament to that (no matter how bitter you are when coming to this realisation), but he’s now a lot more comfortable with it. He likes to say that you are a big part of that journey. You would simply tell him that the growth was his to make.

“You basically already live here,” you tell him. “It’s close to the train station and there’s that good Thai place across the road.”

“I’d love to move in with you,” he says softly, stroking your cheeks. He’s had an affinity for your cheeks since he first met you, poking at them teasingly and you would do the same in retaliation. Now, he can let his touches linger. “Really. I can get the rest of my things here by the end of the week.”

“It’s Wednesday.”

He smiles. “Exactly.”

You yawn again, your eyes squeezing closed so tightly that an unnecessary tear slips past the corner of your eye. Spencer wipes it away with his thumb before kissing your nose, relishing in the way you let out a breathless laugh. 

“I love you,” he whispers, his lips brushing against yours.

You beam at him, kissing him softly. “I love you.”

*** 

“And it’s like, if you don’t want to get yelled at, don’t come late to every single shift that you have, y’know?” You complain from your bedroom, pushing your lashes upwards with the side of your finger. You’re leaning over your new white vanity, forgoing the chair, as you try to keep your lashes up. “I mean, I get that this is her first time doing work experience, but come on she isn’t nine. And get this, babe, she doesn’t even have a phone. She’s seventeen years old doing work experience and she doesn’t have a phone. I have to remind her of her shifts through her mother. Do you know how awkward that is?”

Spencer hums as he does up his tie, coming up from behind you and and glancing at you for a moment. “She doesn’t sound like someone who wants to be doing work experience, angel.”

“I swear she’s only doing this because it’s compulsory at her high school,” you lament, turning around to face him. “And she is so rude. You should have heard what she said to Veronica, Walter, it was insane. Like, she swore in front of a client. In front of a child.”

His nose scrunches up at your words, resting his hands on your waist and stroking up and down with his thumbs, feeling your curves through the pretty dress you picked out. “You should fire her.”

“Legally I cannot,” you say with a huff. “But I’m pretty sure she’s going to quit or something. ‘Ronica will let me know, and honestly, good riddance.”

He laughs as he kisses your forehead. “I don’t doubt it, angel.”

You smile at him, no longer disgruntled from your frustrating coworker. “You look really good,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw. 

“You look exquisite,” is his quick response, continuing to stroke up and down along your sides. He kisses you slowly, one hand moving to cup your neck and holding you there. “Is this a new dress?”

“Got it for forty bucks,” you say with a grin. “This boutique was having a sale downtown. Guess how much this used to be.”

He laughs at your enthusiasm, kissing you again. “How much?”

“One hundred and twenty,” you say giddily as you straighten his tie. “That’s a steal, right? So I bought two more dresses the same price. That’s like, two free dresses, y’know? Girl maths.”

Spencer can’t help but smile as you tell him all about your shopping spree, his pointer finger dragging up and down your jaw. He doesn’t have the heart to correct you about the inaccuracies of whatever ‘girl maths’ is, instead choosing to nod along. “Yeah?”

You nod with a silly smile. “Yeah! And I figured that I might as well get JJ and Will’s wedding gift while I was out and I got these super cute wine glasses and–”

He cuts you off with a kiss, his fingers delving into your once neat updo, and his mouth pressing firmly against yours. In seconds he has you sat on the seat of your vanity and he leans down to kiss you harder. 

“You’re gorgeous,” he murmurs against your lips, “so pretty.”

“You messed up my hair,” you scold half-heartedly, your fingers grazing against the collar of his shirt. “We’re gonna be late to the wedding.”

“It’s not our wedding,” he breathes, kissing you again and murmuring between them, “they’ll understand.”

You pull away, cheeks hot and lips swollen. “They’ll know.”

“Good.”

“Spencer!”

You arrive at Rossi’s mansion with five minutes to spare, guests already filing through the doors. From the corner of your eye, you spot Aaron and Emily speaking in one of the living rooms while JJ follows an older lady up the stairs holding a white dress in her arms. After placing the wedding gift on the table, you venture out into the garden where the tables are decorated with white lace tablecloths and the chairs have big satin ribbons on the backs of them. Cream and white roses are arranged elegantly on top of the tables and the fairy lights provide an even bigger sense of magic to the scene. 

“The place looks amazing, David,” you praise, beaming at the older man. “Truly, it’s like something out of a fairytale.”

He chuckles as he holds a flute of champagne, gesturing to where Derek stands with Penelope. “I had some help. You’re taking care of yourself?”

“Of course,” you respond, waving to Derek who looks all too pleased to see you again. “It has been a really good couple of years.”

“You and Spencer have been together for, what, two and a half years?” He asks as he looks over to where Spencer is showing magic tricks to Henry. 

“Sounds like a long time, huh?” You ask through a breathless laugh. “It’s been good.”

David smiles proudly at you, patting you on the shoulder. “I’m happy for the two of you. You’re like a daughter to me, you know that.”

“I know,” you respond, grinning. “Thank you.”

“Let me know when the big day happens,” he says with a wink. “It’ll save you from renting a venue.”

You only laugh and shake your head as you move to where Spencer is, ruffling his hair as Henry giggles loudly. Spencer lets out a shout in protest, swatting your hands away lightly before holding them in his own, bringing his lips to the back of it.

“Having fun?” You ask them, grinning at Henry who nods excitedly. 

“Uncle Spencer showed me a magic trick!” He exclaims, clapping his hands together.

“Oh is that right?”

Spencer offers you a sheepish smile, twirling a penny around his fingers. “Do you want to see?”

He doesn’t give you much room to accept or deny the offer, holding the penny in his hands and showing it to both you and Henry. 

“Behold,” he announces, “a normal penny. But this penny can travel through the astrological planes and dimensions. Watch closely.”

He holds the penny up to your face before snapping his fingers and, lo and behold, the penny was out of sight. He shows both his hands, front and back, a boyish smile on his face. Henry claps at the display, squealing and brushing his long hair away from his face. 

“Where’d it go?” Henry asks, pouting. 

Spencer beams at the enthusiasm and holds his hands out again. “Ah, now that is the tricky part. For that, I need an assistant… angel, do you mind?”

He holds you by the waist with left hand, kissing your cheeks before holding his right hand in front of your face. Henry shrieks at the display of affection, covering his eyes exaggeratedly. You laugh out of embarrassment, swatting at Spencer’s arms and rolling your eyes. 

“Stop torturing the poor child,” you scold lightly, wiping away his sloppy kisses. 

“Couldn’t help myself,” he dismisses, before waggling his fingers. “Now, to find that penny…”

He reaches up behind your ear, pinching at something, before revealing the penny in his pinched fingers. He watches as your eyes widen with surprise, his cheeks pinkening in delight. 

“How did you do that?” You ask, grabbing the penny from his hand and turning it over in your fingers. 

“He’s magic,” Henry provides helpfully, clapping his hands. “Just like Auntie Penelope! When I tell her about something, it magically shows up at my house in a big brown box!”

You laugh, not having the heart to inform him that Penelope is not magic; simply very good at spoiling the people she cares about. She has taken you on more than a few shopping sprees in hopes of spoiling her little godson, ooh-ing and aah-ing at the cute clothes and toys in the department stores. Recently, she’s been scouting out jewellery stores, going on and on about how difficult it is to find gifts for people. You had offered a few recommendations of your own, gesturing to the pretty rings and necklaces out on display, but she only dismissed your suggestions. 

“Auntie Penelope is basically a fairy godmother,” you tell Henry in explanation, chuckling. “Like in Cinderella.”

“I love Cinderella,” Henry says, his eyes lighting up. “Uncle Spencer read it to me! He said that the original story is about Ash-poo-tell.”

“Ashputtel,” Spencer explains to you, “the original story.”

“Ah,” you nod in remembrance, recalling the grim details of the story. You ruffle Henry’s hair. “You can hear that story when you’re older.”

The rest of the wedding goes without a hitch. Drinks are handed out by the ushers Rossi hired, along with cute little hors d'oeuvres. The ceremony in itself is perfection; JJ and Will sharing a kiss after saying their vows, and Henry being the ring bearer. Spencer holds your hand the entirety of the celebrations, brushing his thumb up and down the back of your left palm, carefully tracing each knuckle. 

As JJ and Will take to the dance floor, more and more couples join in. Derek and a very drunk Penelope join in with loud giggles, and Beth drags Hotch into the circle by the wrists. Spencer rests his hands on your waist as the two of you stand at the sidelines, watching with amused grins as Penelope trips over her own feet. 

“Hey,” Spencer murmurs into your ear, pulling you closer. “What do you say we get away from the crowd?”

You jump on the opportunity, already picking up your purse. “Who are you and what have you done to Spencer Walter Reid?”

He rolls his eyes at you, shooting a quick message to the team’s group chat to let them know that you were making an early leave. “Very funny.”

“No, no, I’m serious! Do you need to see a doctor? Like, a medical one?” You ask with jest as he opens up the car door for you. 

“Do you want me to change my mind?” He asks, laughing, before getting into the driver’s seat of the car. “I just thought that we could go somewhere. It’s not too late and if we hurry, I think we could catch the sunset.”

You smile innocently as he puts the car into drive, heading off to who knows where. “Have I ever told you that I love you?”

“Tell me again,” he prompts, resting his hand on the inside of your thigh as he keeps his eyes on the road. 

“I love you.”

“I love you,” comes his immediate response, squeezing at the flesh of your thighs through your dress. A street sign passes overhead as he drives, reading the word ‘Anacostia’. 

“We’re going to the Bridge Park?” You ask curiously, peering out the window. 

He hums in affirmation. “I heard it’s pretty this time of day. I wanted to take you out somewhere nice, but I don’t know when we’ll have a case next so I figured that this would be the perfect time.”

After parking the car and locking it, Spencer takes your hand as you walk through the park. It’s a very popular area in Anacostia, the entire neighbourhood holding old historic buildings that have been refurbished. 

You relish the feeling of the breeze in your hair, your cheeks turning rosy as the temperature begins to drop. You made it just in time for the sunset as it paints the park in oranges and a soft lavender haze, your skin flushing gold from the lighting. You commit the image to memory as you stare at the view, your dress fluttering around your legs from the wind. 

In your distraction, you miss the way Spencer’s hand drops from yours, and you search through your purse for your phone. You click open the photo app, putting it onto the selfie setting as you turn to him.

“Walter, let’s take a–” 

The words die at your tongue upon the sight before you. Spencer, in his once neat suit and tie and all his germaphobic tendencies kneeling on the cold concrete, holding a velvet ring box in his hand. The box looks comically small in his palms as he looks up at you, his eyes glossed over and a tearful smile on his face. 

“Hi, angel,” he says softly, his voice cracking at the last syllable. 

“What’re you doing?” You ask, even though you know exactly what is going on. Blood rushes to your ears and you sniffle. “Spencer, your pants–”

“I love you,” he says firmly, the box in his hands quivering as his hands shake. His palms are sweaty and he swallows the nerves down his throat. “I love you. I’m not– I’m not good with words or with expressing how I feel but I know one thing for certain: I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

He chokes out a quiet laugh as you take a step closer to him, wiping the tears away from his eyes. “I had a speech prepared and everything,” he says, embracing the feel of your warm hands on his cheeks. “I can’t even remember what I was going to say.”

“It’s okay,” you murmur, crouching down so that you are eye level with him. “It’s okay, Walter.”

“No, I–” he swallows the lump in his throat and wets his bottom lip. “Love in the English dictionary covers a multitude of feelings. You can love doing something, or love a specific food, or love an object. In other languages, there are different words for different types of love and I think… I think that they got it right. There are a million untranslatable words that all mean love but I think the one that expresses how I feel about you would be the Chinese phrase ‘yuan fen’. It means that two people were… predestined to be together and I think– I know that we were meant to be.”

He sucks in a breath after his rant, smiling up at you. “Will you marry me?”

Tears slip from your eyes as you nod, pulling him up from the cold musty ground. “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Spencer exhales, his arms looping around your waist. His nose burrows into the side of your neck and you can feel the hot tears against your skin.

“Thank God,” he breathes, moving his head to kiss your cheeks. “I love you.”

“I love you,” you respond, hugging him tight. “Was there ever any doubt?”

He laughs a little, shaking his head as he fumbles with the velvet box, slipping the ring onto your left ring finger. “No. Never.”

Spencer brushes a strand of your hair away from your face before kissing you slowly, the light from the sun finally going down. As you pull away, the speakers overhead come to life with the announcer clearing his throat.

“Unfortunately, due to the predicted rain that will be coming shortly, the fireworks show will be rescheduled. We apologise for this inconvenience.”

You peer up at Spencer curiously who looked more than disappointed. “Fireworks show?”

“That was the plan,” he says with a small frown. “I’m sorry, angel.”

There’s a crash of thunder and before you know it, small droplets of water begin to fall from the sky. Spencer immediately covers your head with his jacket, pulling you over to the car. 

“Wait, wait–” you laugh, resisting his efforts. “Walter, wait!”

“I’m not letting you get sick,” he scolds lightly, his curls sticking to his forehead from the rain. 

You laugh again, stepping closer to him and wrapping your arms around his neck. “Well, we don’t have a pool but… rain works too, right?”

“You’re insane,” he says, his forehead pressed against yours. “You’re crazy.”

A teasing grin makes its way onto your face as you waggle your fingers in front of him. “Yeah, well, you’re marrying crazy.”

“No regrets,” he responds, before pressing his lips to yours. 

In that moment, as he kisses you on the sidewalk in the pouring rain, you could have sworn that you felt sparks fly.

← previous part || series masterlist →

Thank you everyone once again for your support through this project! I have had so much fun writing it and I am so grateful for all the traction and love that it has received! With the help of this project, we have reached 2.1k followers! To celebrate, I have opened requests and you can find the event page here <3 thank you all once again and until next time !!

reblogs are always appreciated!

[the-firebird69]

Watch "John Cena vs. Big Show: Raw, December 8, 2014" on YouTube

This happened in Cena got mad said they ganged up on me, not true, and he went ballistic on them each group too.

They're still realing from his response and it's not really what happened but

Thor Freya

It's not really but that's what I did and here too I'm going to start doing it to your son

Cena

No you're not we're doing it to you and that's what's starting you're not used to it and you're not used to attention and you're getting pushed back and you're getting beat to hell. Nobody says it does what you do to me John Cena you f** and you're going to come apart at the seams as you are in several areas and you're losing territory cuz you're taking me on directly and challenging my people it's taboo and it's wrong and the max don't do it because of that fact

Zues Hera

That's how you see something I'm doing things that are wrong and tell you and I keep doing it and I'm losing so what's it to you I guess what's two it was I'm just going to lose and he doesn't care much I'm a stupid person and it just takes the area, so I figured out it might be Max I'm giving him a hard time though I'm just going to crush our rhealm because of what he says, since I've been fake wrestling too long, have no clue what they're saying I don't understand back off from chop your arms off and yeah I ended up a little arms usually chop them off my body. I can't stand this little kid since I'm his size is probably stronger than me he definitely is now I don't look like this and he's actually a giant and he has a huge force of giants and he's not going to be able to tell him he means me and I sort of get something I refuse to go down to such a person who's going to say it. Even though I say ut all the time and it says it makes me up s*** and it's really actually true and I haven't seen his kids and he says you won't see them, and I'm suddenly very insulted. It says everybody goes through this stupid talk and stupid crap and even while their heads are being popped off and certainly understand something what you're saying is very vehement and when he's having done to people is horrific and we're ignoring him it's getting worse and worse that's what Mac has been saying we're also sacrilegious and blasphemous and nasty. I can't believe there's so much stuff that comes out of him. Sizzling corky I have no clue who he is or what is done in the past it's a brand new exposure. I suppose I've seen him in action it's horrifying and I keep on triggering it that's really to me any good he is bored with the conversation which anyone would be no. He can't stand us since that's attacking every time

John cena

This isn't fake wrestling buddy boy you're not going to bluff your way into defeating mine like how long you will like to try it's ridiculous all the more like try the stupid s*** you have to lose this dumb flippant a****** crap from all of them. It's extremely motivational and the maximum must have looked at it no they're motivated too because when you go by John Cena and you say stupid s*** to people who can kick your ass they're going to come out and kick your ass but with us you are creating this slow absolutely incredible pressure cooker and we're dissolving you what you saying is the name when you're doing a stupid you have to bother one person and you can't resist just like cork you just don't have the willpower you're ruining yourself right here and right now massive forces of yours fall because of your errors in protocol John Cena lol.

And PS and start cutting your money off cuz you're such a prick you know it says that s*** they do to me stupid you look a little girl cuz they're taunting people like him five year old chick it's unbelievable how rude you are.

Zues Hera

Were going to hit you for what you're saying right now you're massively rude people and people can't take it they're killing you and you don't care because you're more like a stupid especially you John cena. You are a kite too and we mean it you are a very bad kike everywhere you go you complain as if people are supposed to service you for some reason. You start complaining they're also going to knock you down take that stupid look off your idiot face and yeah you're an idiot and I hope you didn't build a piece of s*** like Trump did more reason to get to it Max says wow and his son starts to joke up it says look that s***'s a waste of space just like John Cena he looks like it could be helpful and strong but what a piece of s***.. it's a huge number of people that said you're hybrid cars a piece of crap and now they're making the real thing at Corvette and it looks like yours you idiot. It's because you coughing his car no kidding that's stupid. They're tired of these antics of his and watching him get his ass kicked severely and him losing tunnels all over the place and not be able to hold on to them and not hand him out to anybody except us. We thank him too for the help by the way this guy taunts for hours no matter who's noticing these f****** idiots are doing that everywhere. Furthermore we're going to start bothering you retards and you can't handle it at all for seconds and he said just break them it's not hard, true too you turn around and start fighting someone cuz they're doing what you're doing you can't handle it at all and just hand in your hat it's time for you to go I've seen him do it so many times cuz you keep taunting him. he's doing it people who are doing it to him. John Cena just stepped in it said you like to see that and our son okay you will. I'm going after Trump now we're going to diminish him in this idiot John Cena. Well he's got a whole bunch of choppers from our company now but we sent out tons this morning we sent a huge Army of them all over the Earth and for sale today and their stores that are opening up so is just this chopper everywhere there's a store now Indian motorcycle shops are going to have tons of these big Chiefs instead of look like harly Davidson and they all look the same but this case will be. This is a ton of these goofballs running around challenging people trying to get up over them with conversation they look ridiculous because they are they're just that arrogant and smug and they won't stop talking and really gets them killed. We're sending out teams now to this area. Huge ones too. It's for here but it's really to clear areas for construction and these assholes need to leave.

We're moving on their commands and we're taking their people out right now in big droves .

I don't honest these people so damn dumb he's right there massively annoying and so rude and massively argent you would not believe how arrogant these little s**** are and come up and say stupid things to you and leave and come back and leave and come back I want them dead every time they do that stupid stuff

Thor Freya Im enacting the rule right now

[girl-of-many-fandoms]

Teenage Years

Pairing: Steve McGarrett x Reader

Summary: Steve doesn't want his baby girl to grow up just yet.

Warnings: none

MASTERLIST

----

"Kalea!"

"Mom!"

Y/N looked up from her laptop to see her sixteen year old storming into the house with Eddie and Steve hot on her trail.

"You're dripping water on the floor Kalea-"

"Mom could you please talk to dad." Steve walked passed her heading straight to his wife to kiss the top of her head.

"I'm not following, what's the problem?"

"I got asked out on a date and he said that I can't go." Steve snorted and pulled up the seat next to Y/N who already had her eyes locked on him.

"Did you do your homework like I asked? Did you clean your room?" Kalea groaned, her face red with anger watching her father's stoic face; she knew that her dad had zero intentions on changing his mind.

"Did you?"

"No dad, I didn't."

"Exactly and keep this attitude up, you're looking at a lovely two weeks on house arrest." Y/N merely shrugged her shoulders at her daughter.

"You two are unbelievable, you both aren't like this when it comes to Kai!"

"Watch your tone." Y/N was beginning to get irritated with her snappy attitude. Kalea scoffed and murmured something beneath her breath and Steve immediately pulled up on it.

"Excuse me, what did you say young lady?"

"Nothing."

"It has to be something so say it, louder this time please so your mother and I could hear you."

"I said Kai could get away with murder and you two would let him since you already let him do his own thing." With that off her chest, Kalea stormed off up to her room and the resounding slam of her bedroom door filled the relatively quiet house.

"That just landed her four weeks of being grounded. She goes to school, soccer practice and straight home, that's it." Y/N turned to face her husband, placing her hand on his thigh and he immediately covered it with his.

"Sweetheart, I'm going to say this once and once only. She's sixteen Steve, she's bound to start going to parties with her friends and she's a beautiful girl, boys are surely lining up to take her out on dates." Steve rolled his eyes at her last statement; she was right, Kalea is at the age to start feeling out relationships and truth be told, he hated that fact.

"I hate you." Y/N chuckled locking lips with the grumpy man.

"You love me, now, go on up there and talk to your kid. Let her go out on the date and then you could ground her for her attitude and slamming the door." Rolling his eyes he did as directed by his wife.

----

"How do I look?"

"Like a loser- ow!" Kai rubbed the back of his head where Steve tapped him for being rude.

"You look beautiful darling." Y/N fixed the strap on Kalea's dress before giving her a bone crushing hug.

"You look great kiddo."

"Thanks dad." Steve also wrapped his baby girl in his arms just as the doorbell rung. He watched as his wife moved to answer it and was semi pleased to see a decent looking young man with a bouquet of flowers standing in the doorway.

Y/N stepped over to her husband, watching on as their daughter accepted the flowers with a big smile on her face.

"Mom, dad, this is Josh. Josh these are my parents and that's my brother on the couch."

"It's a pleasure to meet you both Mr. and Mrs. McGarrett."

"Likewise Josh, you two have a good time tonight."

"By good time she meant enjoy the show at the beach not anything else and if you pull any funny business I will know and I will come after you. Are we clear?" Josh gulped in fear of the intimidating Commander who hadn't broken his eye contact with just yet.

"Crystal, sir."

"Good now get going, don't want you both to miss the show." The couple left and Kai headed up to his room with Eddie following him. Y/N securely wrapped her arms around his waist and Steve's hands found their place on hers.

"I still don't like this, my baby girl is not a baby anymore."

"She's always going to be the freckled face little girl that loved ponytails and glitter that we know and love no matter how old she gets Steve."

----

Hawaii five-0 Taglist:

@sketch-and-write-lover

[mishafletcher]

Are you a Gold Star lesbian? (Just in case you don't know what it means, a Gold Star lesbian is a lesbian that has never had the sex with a guy and would never have any intentions of ever doing so)

So I got this ask a while ago, and I've been lowkey thinking about it ever since.

First: No. I am a queer, cranky dyke who is too old for this sort of bullshit gatekeeping. 

Second: What an unbelievable question to ask someone you don't even know! What an incomprehensibly rude thing to ask, as if you're somehow owed information about my sexual history. You're not! No one—and I can't reiterate this enough, but no one—owes you the details of their sex lives, of their trauma, or of anything about themselves that they don't feel like sharing with you.

The clickbait mills of the internet and the purity police of social media would like nothing more than to convince everyone that you owe these things to everyone. They would like you to believe that you have to prove that you're traumatized enough to identify with this character, that you can't sell this article about campus rape without relating it to your own sexual assault, that you can't talk about queer issues without offering up a comprehensive history of your own experiences, and none of those things are true. You owe people, and especially random strangers on the internet, nothing, least of all citations to somehow prove to them that you have the right to talk about your own life.

This makes some people uncomfortable, and to be clear, I think that that's good: people who feel entitled to demand this information should be uncomfortable. Refusing to justify yourself takes power away from people who would very much like to have it, people who would like to gatekeep and dictate who is permitted to speak about what topics or like what things. You don't have to justify yourself. You don't have to explain that you like this ship because this one character reminds you a bit of yourself because you were traumatized in a vaguely similar way and now— You don't have to justify your queerness by telling people about the best friend you had when you were twelve, and how you kissed, and she laughed and said it was good practice for when she would kiss boys and your stomach twisted and your mouth tasted like bile and she was the first and last girl you kissed, but— 

You don't owe anyone these pieces of yourself. They're yours, and you can share them or not, but if someone demands that you share, they're probably not someone you should trust.

Third: The idea of gold star lesbians is a profoundly bi- and trans- phobic idea, often reducing gender to genitals and the long, shared history of queer women of all identities to a stark, artificial divide where some identities are seen as purer or more valuable than others. This is bullshit on all counts.

There's a weird and largely artificial division between bisexuals and lesbians that seems to be intensifying on tumblr, and I have to say: I hate it. Bisexual women aren't failed lesbians. They're not somehow less good or less valid because they're attracted to [checks notes] people. Do you think that having sex with a man somehow changes them? What are you so worried about it for? I've checked, and having sex with a man does not, in fact, make your vagina grow teeth or tentacles. Does that make you feel better? Why is what other people are doing so threatening to you?

Discussions of gold star lesbians are often filled with tittering about hehe penises, which is unfortunate, since I know a fair few lesbians who have penises, and even more lesbians who've had sex with people, men and women alike, who have penises. I'm sorry to report that "I'm disgusted by a standard-issue human body part" is neither a personality nor anything to be proud of. I'm a dyke and I don't especially like men, but dicks are just dicks. You don't have to be interested in them, but a lot of people have them, and it doesn't make you less of a lesbian to have sex with someone who has a dick.

There's so much garbage happening in the world—maybe you haven't noticed, but things are kind of Not Great in a lot of places, and there's a whole pandemic thing that's been sort of a major buzzkill? How is this something that you're worried about? Make a tea, remind yourself that other people's genitalia and sexual history are none of your business, maybe go watch a video about a cute animal or something. 

Fourth: The idea of gold star lesbians is a shitty premise that argues that sexuality is better if it's always been clear-cut and straightforward—but it rarely is. We live in a very, very heterosexist culture. I didn’t have a word for lesbian until many years after I knew that I was one. How can you say that you are something when your mouth can’t even make the shape of it? The person you are at 24 is different to the person you are at 14, and 34, and 74. You change. You get braver. The world gets wider. You learn to see possibilities in the shadows you used to overlook. Of course people learn more about themselves as they age.

Also, many of us, especially those of us who grew up in smaller towns, or who are over the age of, say, 25, grew up in times and places where our sexuality was literally criminal.

Shortly after I graduated high school, a gay man in my state was sentenced to six months in jail. Why? Well, he’d hit on someone, and it was a misdemeanor to "solicit homosexual or lesbian activity", which included expressing romantic or sexual interest in someone who didn’t reciprocate. You might think, then, that I am in fact quite old, but you would be mistaken. The conviction was in 1999; it was overturned in 2002.

I grew up knowing this: the wrong thing said to the wrong person would be sufficient reason to charge me with a crime.

In the United States, the Defense of Marriage Act was passed in 1996, clarifying that according to the federal government, marriage could only ever be between one man and one woman. It also promised that even if a state were to legalize same-sex unions, other states wouldn't have to recognize them if they didn't want to. And wow, they super did not want to, because between 1998 and 2012, a whopping thirty states had approved some sort of amendment banning same-sex marriage.

Every queer person who's older than about 25 watched this, knowing that this was aimed at people like them. Knowing that these votes were cast by their friends and their families and their teachers and their employers. 

Some states were worse than others. Ohio passed their bill in 2004 with 62% approval. Mississippi passed theirs the same year with 86% approval. Imagine sitting in a classroom, or at work, or in a church, or at a family dinner, and knowing that statistically, at least two out of every three people in that room felt you shouldn't be allowed to marry someone you loved.

Matthew Shepard was tortured to death in October of 1998. For being gay, for (maybe) hitting on one of the men who had planned to merely rob him. Instead, he was tortured and left to die, tied to a barbed wire fence. His murderers were both sentenced to two consecutive life terms in prison. This was controversial, because a nonzero number of people felt that Shepard had brought it upon himself.

Many of us sat at dinner tables and listened to this discussion, one that told us, over and over, that we were fundamentally wrong, fundamentally undeserving of love or sympathy or of life itself.

This is a tiny, tiny sliver of history—a staggeringly incomplete overview of what happened in the US over about ten years. Even if this tiny sliver is all that there were, looking at this, how could you blame someone for wanting to try being not Like This? How can you fault someone who had sex, maybe even had a bunch of sex, hoping desperately that maybe they could be normal enough to be loved if they just tried harder? How can you say that someone who found themself an uninteresting but inoffensive boyfriend and went on dates and had sex and said that it was fine is somehow less valuable or less queer or less of a lesbian for doing so? For many people, even now, passing as straight, as problematic as that term is, is a survival skill. How dare you imply that the things that someone did to protect themself make them worth less? They survived, and that's worth literally everything.

Fifth, finally: What is a gold star, anyhow? You've capitalized it, like it's Weighty and Important, but it's not. Gold stars were what your most generous grade school teacher put on spelling tests that you did really well on. But ultimately, gold stars are just shiny scraps of paper. They don't have any inherent value: I can buy a thousand of them for five bucks and have them at my door tomorrow. They have only the meaning that we give them, only the importance that we give them. We’re not children desperately scrabbling for a teacher’s approval anymore, though. We understand that good and bad are more of a spectrum than a binary, and that a gold star is a simplification. We understand that no number of gold stars will make us feel like we’re special enough or good enough or important enough, or fix the broken places we can still feel inside ourselves. Only we can do that.

The stars are only shiny scraps of paper. They offer us nothing; we don’t need them. I hope that someday, you see that, too. 

[skiyoosmi]

and then, we fell apart

⤷ series masterlist | CHAPTER SIX | prev | next

⤷ sypnosis. you like him, they said he likes you. isn't it supposed to be as easy as that? apparently, it's not when oikawa tooru decides to ask you to fake-date him to make the new girl jealous. it would've been fine... if only you weren't in love with him.

YEAR 2021.

[7:59AM] Makki: hello miss ma'am, are you alive? CLASSES ARE ABOUT TO START !! are you really gonna be late for your first day in this subject !?!

“I know, Takahiro Hanamaki...” you spoke with gritted teeth after checking your phone and panting a few times, “why else would I run like my life depended on it.”

You continued running, cursing the ridiculously long hallway in your mind and thanking the gods upon your arrival in front of the door. The professor was nowhere to be found yet, which means you're not late.

A smile of relief formed on your face as you went inside, only for it to disappear as you see a woman sitting beside Makki, where your usual seat was. Said lad only mouths an apology as he meets your glare.

Your eyes scan the room, stopping on two vacant seats in the farthest left. After letting out an exasperated sigh, you begrudgingly walk to the seat, plopping down with a frown on your face. You bury your face in your arms, hoping to get a quick nap but a fake cough prevents you from doing so. You bring your head up and find yourself looking at a black curly haired man. Despite the mask that adorns his face, irritation was visible in his eyes.

He has pretty moles, you thought.

“That's my seat,” he says sharply.

“Uhm... are you talking to me?” You tilt your head and point at yourself in confusion.

“Who else would I talk to then? Do you see anyone sitting where you are right now?” He answers crankily.

Nevermind the moles, this boy is straight up a jerk.

You scoffed at his rudeness and cross your arms, “Rude much? There's literally a vacant seat beside me? Maybe sit there?”

“But that's my seat,” he presses on, mirroring your actions and crossing his arms as well.

“Oh, really? Does it have your name on it?” you scan the chair, “nothing's written in here. That means it's not yours, is it?”

“I've always sat there, even last semester for another subject,” he states, as if it's was the most obvious thing in the world.

“This is unbelievable. I don't even know who you are!? And as I've said a while ago, you can sit here,” you gesture to the one beside you, “it's literally not taken.”

He was about to make another reply but as if on cue, your professor walks in, “Morning, class. You might be wondering why the room's full today, huh? I decided to merge your classes for now so we could utilize the class hours we have seeing as it won't really affect your schedule for your other subjects. Now, let's start the discussion, shall we?”

The unnamed boy in front of you sends you what seems like a deadly glare and sits, whispering under his breath, “Chair thief.”

You look at him in disbelief. Someone could actually be this petty? Over a freaking chair?!

Oh dear god... he's a nightmare.

“Can you believe that rude ass? We didn't even share a single class for the last three years, how in the world was I supposed to know him and his damn seat!? And I'm a what? Chair thief!?” you rant to the boy in front of you, who only shakes his head in reply.

“For people who are about to graduate in a few months, you're both childish,” Iwaizumi comments as he takes a bite of his burger, “who was that anyway?”

“He's childish! I'm not! And I don't know, I would never even bother to ask for his name... that asshole,” you grumbled.

“Well, you're childish too. Couldn't you have just sat on the vacant seat you were telling him to sit on?” he shrugs.

“Why should I adjust to his stuck-up ass? I got there first!” you argue, only for your dear friend to let out a sigh.

“This is pointless, you're both just too stubborn,” he shakes his head, “anyway, how was your family check up? Did the doctor say anything? Are you fine?”

You froze for a moment before shoving a piece of meat in your mouth, ignoring the way your hand lightly shook. And then you gulped, ignored the prickly vines that wrap itself around your throat tightly, buried the guilt that's threatening to drown you, and choked out, “Yeah, I'm fine. Very fine, in fact.”

He stares at you for a moment before nodding slowly, not entirely convinced due to your behavior but he doesn't think you have any reason to lie to him, “okay... that's good to hear then.”

The smile you show him doesn't quite reach your eyes. How could you when you just lied to one of your friends? But then again... how would you even tell him you only have a few months to live?

marga's notes. this is a month late but hello im back skdjeksb

tell me your thoughts here

[little-witchys-garden]

Story time: she bragged about smacking a disabled child and taking his service dog.

Tw: ableism + ageism + child harming { she smacked him which is assult I'm pretty sure }

This is a story I still think about sometimes because it left a mark on me mentally as a disabled kid.

There was a young woman that was rather

" popular " in the child free community simply because she was mean towards children and loved bragging about being a jerk towards kids mostly kids in her own family. It was her whole personality..

{ Now I'm not saying the whole child free community is bad but this was in 2016.. When people thought being a jerk was a personality }

So the story went that she was at a dog park that she goes to every Saturday even though she doesn't own a dog because she likes playing with other peoples dogs.

There was

A man { the dad }

The 7 year old boy { the disabled child }

Their house dog and his service dog.

The little boy was apparently semi-verbal and seemingly neurodiverse and maybe even physically disabled??

But dad was chatting with friends, house dog was laying in the shade and service dog that had on a vest was cuddling with the little boy.

This mean lady sees the service dog a lovely Australian Shepard + Labrador mix.

So she goes walking over and the little boy saw her and curled into his dog more hiding his face which she found " so rude "

Even though this child like most kids probs got freaked out by a stranger.

She goes to pet his dog and he holds up his hand and says

" no touch "

Then she smacked his hand saying

" I CAN PET THE DOG, DON'T BE RUDE!"

Then according to her she then TAKES THE LEASH OF HIS SERVICE DOG AND START WALKING AWAY WITH THE SERVICE DOG to " teach him a lesson about sharing and respecting adults "

The poor kid curled into a ball and just sobbed making " weird hand signs " which were most likely sign language.

She claimed he was " being a dramatic brat " and " it was only a few feet away "

The dad ran over snatched the dog back and went off on her, understandably.

At the end of it well she was banned from the dog park and she was publicly shaming the dog park for banning her.

She boasted about what she did to that child EVERYWHERE and people praised her for what she did to that poor child.

A comment I still remember was

Quote on qoute " good on you for teaching that { R-slur } brat a well needed lesson "

And people being unbelievably ableist and saying children shouldn't be allowed service dogs..

I remember seeing the post cause it was goung viral on Instagram. This woman had lots of post and vids and stories of her being just mean towards kids { mostly kids in her own family }

Normally her other posts got back lash but that one really didn't.. So many people tried blaming this poor disabled child..

When it's a not disabled kid then it's how this horrble woman was wrong but when it came to a disabled child...

People blamed the child and praised her for what she did.

She not only harmed a child but took away a service dog. Something so many people need to live and people praised her..

I went off on her because she broke a child's boundaries, assault a child and took away a service animal from it's person.

I got harassed a LOT for being a " bleeding heart " and " overly-senstive "

I still think of it sometimes..

People ask why those with service animals are so " untrusting " and " paranoid "of strangers and that story always rings in my head as the reason why..

[metalbuckaroo]

Birthday

Summary: Toby invites Bucky to his 11th birthday party.

Warnings: good bit of sexual tension, rude ass parent, cursing, I think that's it???

AU: Babysitter!Bucky x Fem!Reader

AN: I waited soo long to finish this that I couldn't remember exactly what I'd planned for it, so I winged half of it.

THE FILL IN MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Moodboard by @bucksdolll

"Toby seems to be warming up to the temporary pretty well." One of the Moms whispered to yours. "Bucky? He's a sweetheart. Isn't he, dear?"

You looked away from where Bucky was being swarmed by the younger kids and a couple of their older sisters you'd went to high school with; your mom giving you a sweet smile. "A big softie."

"He's great with Toby, and is sweet on a little miss someone." She grinned, poking your side as you got two bottles of water from the cooler. "Well, aren't you lucky." One of the other mom's chided. "Extremely."

"Go save him, poor boy looks like he's ready to combust." Your mom sighed, fixing a few things on the table that held cake and various types of snacks.

Turning on your heels, you went to where he was stood letting Toby babble on about his arm. "Can I borrow you for a sec?"

Bucky gave a bright smile and nodded, letting you guide him to the open back door. "I think he's have a good time showing off his super cool babysitter." You teased, handing him some extra drinks for the cooler. "Does he ever run out of energy?"

Shaking your head, you looked over the way the dark blue t-shirt clung to his skin, the dips of his muscular torso visible even through the wet fabric. "You're not gonna take that off are ya." You said, tugging the hem.

He pressed his lips into a thin line and shook his head. "Nothing wrong with being a little modest, Buck." You smiled, noticing how he chewed on the inside of his cheek. "Don't wanna, uh, scare a bunch of kids."

"Or have their dads chasing you down because, the wives are gawking at you." You said, scrunching your nose up at him. He breathed a laugh and shook his head again, leaning down to peck a simple kiss to your lips. "Yeah. I don't think that's gonna happen."

After presents were opened and cake was ate, you and Bucky hid away in the kitchen again for a few moments away from the crowd of kids and parents. "You look beautiful, sunshine." He said, adjusting the thin strap of your dress. "Don't look too bad yourself, Buck."

Your fingers wrapped around the cool metal of his dog tags, tugging them so he'd lean down; his lips ghosting across yours when he turned his head to the opening back door.

"James! There you are." Your mom breathed, pulling the door shut behind her. "Mallory just extended her vacation for another 3 weeks. Please, tell me you're available?" She clasped her hands together and gave him pleading eyes.

"Yeah, of course." Bucky smiled, nodding his head. "Great, perfect. A few of Toby's friends are staying, so I hope they don't bother you too much." She said, looking to you.

"I'm sure Bucky wouldn't mind staying to help, right?" You looked up at him, patting his chest lightly. His eyebrows raised and he nodded, swallowing thickly. "I'll stay."

"Miranda, I've been looking for you." Darlene, one of the most judgemental moms, said, Toby and her son following in behind her. "I've been meaning to ask you- where's Matthew? Shouldn't he be here instead of-" She stopped when she saw Bucky, still standing very close to you.

"He had work." Your mom said with a forced smile. "No wonder it didn't work out, that's all he thinks about." Darlene said clicking her tongue. "Now, you're stuck having to pay a babysitter who-"

"Yeah, I'm gonna stop you right there. Toby, go play outside." Bucky looked down at your hard expression, putting his hand on Toby's shoulder to walk with him into the backyard. "That's not an appropriate thing to talk about at a kid's birthday party. He is eleven, he doesn't need to know why his dad didn't show up."

"It's just- this new babysitter of yours is so-"

"Sweet? Shy, handsome, good with kids? If none of those are what you are about to say, then don't say it." She looked at you dumbfounded, glancing at your mom. "You're not gonna let her talk like this are you?"

Your mom shrugged, leaning against the kitchen counter. "She's grown. I don't dictate what she says. Besides, she's right."

"Unbelievable."

As the families dispersed, going home once the sun started to set, your mom looking exhausted as she cleaned the kitchen. "I've got it, go on to bed. You've had your stress fill for the day."

She gave you a soft thank you before shuffling away to the hallway, Bucky walking in from the chaos filled living room. "Make it out alive?" You teased, picking up the trash that littered the counter. "Barely. Need help?"

His hand rested on the small of your back, pink tinting his cheeks. "You could move the couch for me? Put this to use." You teased, fingertips running up the dark metal of his left arm before wrapping around his wrist.

You finished cleaning the kitchen and went to check on the state of the living room; Bucky laying out the blankets and pillows on the floor for the kids.

"Can we watch Nightmare on Elm Street?" Toby asked, looking up at you with hopeful eyes as you picked up the remote. "No, it's too scary for you." You said, clicking through the movie selections. "Please?"

Bucky chuckled when you rolled your eyes and nodded. "One scream out of any of you and I'm switching it to lullabies."

It didn't take long.

Not even 30 minutes into the movie you were switching it to Toy Story, ignoring the protests that sounded from them.

Another 30 minutes and they were all passed out, sprawled out on the blankets and snoring as you tugged Bucky with you to the kitchen.

"Knew that was gonna happen." You said, breathing a laugh and lifting yourself onto the counter.

Bucky moved to stand in front of you, your knees parting on instinct to let him stand between them. "Steve said he'll have your car done in a couple days. Want me to take you back to your apartment tomorrow? So, you don't have to take the train."

Nodding, you wrapped your arms around his neck loosely; pulling his lips to yours. You all but melted completely in his touch, cool, smooth metal on your right thigh a beautiful contrast to the warm skin on your left.

"I'm so fucking lucky..." He muttered against your lips before pressing his tongue against yours.

"Ew, stop eating my sisters face." You breathed a laugh at Toby's tired voice, looking over your shoulder at him. "Whst are you doing up?" You teased, turning slightly to see him better. "You know I don't like to admit when you're right..."

You were getting restless. Wanting more every time you'd get near Bucky; more of the sweetness of his kiss and gentle, adoring touches.

But hwahented things taken slow. Which you fully understood; and with the group of kids in the front room, it wasn't going to go far anyways.

"Scared?" He nodded softly and you slid off of the counter. "Calm that down and come watch some tv." You smiled at Bucky, gesturing to the strain against his athletic shorts.

Bucky's face burned as he watched you usher Toby back into the living room, staying back for a moment before following.

"Don't you dare tell anyone about this." Toby said, pointing a finger at Bucky that made him look to where you were holding the boy's hand from your spot, laid on the loveseat. "You're about as threatening as the neighbors ankle biter." Bucky retorted, sitting in the recliner.

You had turned some random TV show on, suddenly becoming extra quiet within an hour.

Bucky glanced from the screen to see you sleeping peacefully, Toby's hand barely hanging onto yours as Bucky stepped over one of the kids to grab the blanket from the back of the loveseat.

Gently laying it over you, he leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek; biting back a smile when you subconsciously tilted your head to follow his lips.

There's always tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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