#u never really know when the last time u experience that kind of affection from ur parents is huh

[racingmiku2018]

gghhhgbhf

[shadowland]

Emmylou Harris interview by Cameron Crowe Rolling Stone, June 19, 1975

Fame Catches Up with Emmylou

Los Angeles – Guitar in hand, Gram Parsons sat in his road manager’s Laurel Canyon home and coached singer Emmylou Harris through the harmonies of the old Burritos classic, “Sin City.” Later, after she’d excused herself for a visit to the kitchen, Parsons grinned proudly. “There she is,” he said, “that’s my kick in the ass, keep an eye on her.”

That was in 1973. Now, two years later, Harris’s first major solo effort, Pieces of the Sky, has done well and her current club and concert tour (augmented by a band featuring Elvis’s guitarist James Burton and his keyboard player Glen D. Hardin) is drawing unanimous raves. But Emmylou Harris, it seems, is the last to catch up with Emmylou Harris. Still a bit dazed over Parsons’s untimely death in the fall of ’73, the 28-year-old singer is only now waking up to the reality of a successful solo career.

“I know what’s happening but it hasn’t really hit me yet,” she drawls softly, curled up on the sofa of a West Hollywood hotel room. Two nights earlier, she’d enthralled a capacity Palomino Club audience that included such luminaries as Bonnie Raitt, Maria Muldaur, Lowell George, Commander Cody, Joni Mitchell and Linda Ronstadt (for whose recent country hit, “I Can’t Help It” Harris provided the strong counter harmony). “I guess it’s just been a kind of long hard road. In a way I’ve been at this for almost ten years on almost all kinds of levels – from waiting tables to playing in New York clubs and not having anybody listen to me, to making a terrible first record for a bankrupt company to working with Gram.

“I suppose working with Gram was the most amazing thing that ever happened to me,” she continues. “There was just something very magical about the experience. It was so much fun to just get up there, sing with him, and not worry about carrying a show myself. Everyone paid all this attention to me and told me how good I was and all that. It was really like being some kind of fairytale princess. Somehow that affected me more than all this that’s happening now.” She lets her words settle for a moment, then decides on a quip. “Maybe I’m on time delay.”

Born in Alabama and raised in Virginia, Harris remembers a reputation of being a “real prig” in high school. “I was considered to be a kind of oddball. You know, always studying and making good grades. Singing began as a social thing. I realized when I started singing at parties people began noticing me. High schools are real hip now, everybody’s cool, but there was a counter-culture in Woodbridge, Virginia, in 1963. You were either a homecoming queen or  a real weirdo. Here I was a 16-year-old Wasp, wanting to quit school and become Woody Guthrie.”

Instead, Harris made it to the University of North Carolina on a drama scholarship. Using free time to play off-campus bars in a folk duo, she lasted a year and a half before applying to the more prestigious drama department at Boston University. “I was gonna work as a waitress in Virginia Beach for a while to get enough tuition money,” she recalls. “But there was an incredible little music scene going on down there. That’s when I got serious about singing.”

Harris never made it to Boston U. “I thought I was going to get married. My first big love below up in my face, so I just went to New York ’cause there was nothing else to do. I was greener than green. I got a room at the YWCA, started going to the Village, playing basket houses [pass-the-hat-clubs] and just . . . hangin’ out.”

In two years of scuffling around New York, Emmylou made some valuable friends like singers Jerry Jeff Walker and David Bromberg. “Besides turning me on to country music, they sort of looked out for me,” she says. “Even so, I must have had some protective kind of bubble around me. I used to walk home from gigs on dark streets at two in the morning with my guitar and never think anything of it. Looking back, I get scared to death.”

Harris’s first album (on the now defunct Jubilee records), recorded in New York just after her marriage, is one she’d like to forget. “I was trying to keep it a secret,” she laughs (ironically, since the 1970 release was titled Emmylou Harris). “I hope somebody in authority will be able to buy the masters and burn them. Everybody involved with that record hated everybody else and I was in the middle trying to keep the peace. It was a disaster.”

Several months after recording, “the worst possible thing any girl could ever do to her budding career” happened. Harris became pregnant with her child, Hallie. “Up until then,” she admits, “my life had been a little too nebulous, I had no clear vision at all. The pregnancy, although it wasn’t planned, gave me something very real and something present to relate to.”

Later, with her marriage broken and ten dollars in her pocket, the protectiveness of motherhood, soon drove Harris out of New York. “I didn’t know where I was gonna go, but I knew I had to get a job and make some money. By accident I got back into music through some friends, Billy and Kathy Danoff [writers of ‘Take Me Home, Country Roads’]. They were still living in their basement apartment with all the cockroaches running around. They were the ones that put a guitar in my hands and ordered me onstage again.”

It was early ’71 when Flying Burrito Brothers guitarist Rick Roberts stumbled onto Harris performing in a small Washington D.C. bar called the Red Fox. The next night, Roberts brought the rest of the Burritos down for a look. They invited her to join the band; before she could accept, the Burritos had dissolved.

“Chris Hillman,” Emmylou remembers, “wanted to come out to L.A. so he could produce some demo tapes. He was really busy at the time. Anyway, I think it probably worked out the way it should have.” The way it worked out was for Hillman to turn on Gram Parsons, the Burritos’ long estranged cofounder, to their incredible discovery. Months later, Parson dropped in on one of Harris’s many D.C appearances and made a few vague promises. A year later, Parsons invited her to L.A. to sing on his first solo album, GP. Their partnership quickly intensified. “It was gonna be a Dolly Parton-Porter Wagoner situation. We didn’t see any need to break up that partnership because we really got higher on what we did together than anything we did separately. I still feel that way.”

It was hard work, she says, that kept her from slipping into an extended depression. “Gram’s death was like falling off a mountain. It was a very hard year between his death and the recording of my album [Pieces of the Sky]. A year of throwing myself into a lot of work that my heart wasn’t really into. There was a lot of stumbling involved. I was playing quite a few bars and was in a real vulnerable position. People felt that they could come up and ask me anything. I used to get hostile. It  hurt. I didn’t want to get emotional around some perfect stranger who had the goddamn gall to come up and ask me something that was none of his goddamn business.”

The subject brings her close to tears. “Gram was such an amazing part of my life. I have so many good memories of him, it seems pointless to dwell on the tragedy of it.” Abruptly, she reaches to turn up the country station already blaring from a hotel room radio. “Do you like Conway Twitty?” she asks. “I just love the harmony on this.”

Pieces of the Sky was almost a year long project in itself. Emmylou for one could not be more proud. With the help of Anne Murray’s ex-producer Brian Ahern, great care was taken in selecting material. “I’m just starting to write again,” says Harris. “I don’t mind the fact that I only wrote one song [“Boulder to Birmingham,’ cowritten with Bill Danoff] on the album. There are just too many tunes that I get off doing and want to turn people on to. I feel very deeply and personally involved with each one, so I don’t miss that writer’s identity of making a statement.

“I think any singer feels that way,” Harris says about choosing songs like the Everly Brothers’ “Sleepless Nights,” the Beatles’ “For No One”and Dolly Parton’s “Coat of Many Colors.” Like Linda [Ronstadt]. When she sings a song it’s really sung. Nobody cares that she doesn’t write; the delivery’s all that really matters.”

Besides a heavy touring schedule and the summer recording of her next album, Emmylou Harris spunkily refuses to acknowledge the long-range future. “A lot of my life has been circumstance. The future just doesn’t exist for me. You’re not responsible for decisions if you don’t make them.

“What do I see in the future?” Harris asks, reaching for the telephone. “A chocolate shake. Hello, Room Service?”

[ticklishfiend]

Limitless Bond (Good Omens)

(Switch!Crowley/Switch!Aziraphale)

Summary : Aziraphale and Crowley have a tickle fight during their cute little movie night.

a/n : i’ve been aziracrow pilled there’s a worm in my brain screaming abt them at all times edit: reading this back i’ve realized i’ve never seen a single james bond film so take it with a grain of salt lmao

Word Count : 2892

hope u enjoy :D

. . .

Let’s do some math for a second.

Crowley and Aziraphale have been on Earth together for 6000 years. They’ve been in each other's lives as hundreds, thousands of human generations around them lived and died. And yet, only in the 4 years after the apocalypse did they dare truly bask in one another’s touch. In 0.00066667% of the time they’ve known each other, Aziraphale and Crowley taught themselves to be truly comfortable in one another’s presence, learning about each other in ways they never thought possible.

Try not to think too hard on the numbers. It’s quite difficult sometimes for humans to grasp an occult being’s concept of time. Time for angels and demons is so wildly different from anything a human could ever experience, and that is exactly what makes Aziraphale and Crowley’s love for each other so special and unique. Their time is limitless, so their love is limitless.

What a human can comprehend, however, is how infuriatingly frustrating their relationship must be considering the fact they refuse to actually talk about it. Non-humans are funny like that.

Why put it into words when they both know it’s there? Intrinsically, they feel it, they know it without a shadow of a doubt, and yet somehow they are both still too scared to talk. If they do, it’ll make it real. Their love could literally break down celestial systems incomprehensible to the human mind. Or it could just result in some nasty paperwork. Either way, both sound horrific, and are things the angel and demon are silently working together to avoid.

Whether they ever choose to talk about it or not, those 4 years were magic on Earth.

During that time, Crowley learned that Aziraphale’s hair might even be softer than his wings. Aziraphale learned scratching Crowley’s back when he’s sleepy makes the demon smile without knowing he’s moving a muscle. A demon taught an angel to love roughhousing, and an angel taught a demon the joys of a good cuddle.

But possibly their new favorite physical affection to take advantage of was one they learned together on a casual, cozy movie night.

Aziraphale grinned as Crowley strolled into the bedroom, “I’ve never seen that shirt before.”

Crowley pulled the shirt down to show it off, giving a little wiggle.“What, you don’t like Bond?”

“I didn’t say that,” said Aziraphale, “But I’ve never actually watched the titular James Bond films, so I can’t really say anything,” he said with a teasing tilt in his voice. He knew he’d get a reaction out of such a ghastly confession.

Crowley gaped, stuttering over incomplete words in shock, “Wha—you, you never—I mean—angel, that’s gotta be illegal. Seriously, if I phoned the FEDs right now they’d probably swarm in here guns-a blazing for your crimes,” Crowley shook his head, throwing himself onto the bed next to Aziraphale. “We’re watching it now, I don’t care. You’re lucky I got you this TV set up last month.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes fondly, but didn’t argue. “You can’t be mad at me if it’s not my cup of tea. You know the kind of films I prefer, and I don’t think these fit the list.”

“No no you’ll love it. Got all that romantic filler your heavenly heart desires,” Crowley said, the TV turning on with a flick of his wrist as he settled comfortably against his angel.

They watched together in an easy silence, Aziraphale trying to really gather everything he could from a movie he knows Crowley loves so dearly. He’s not even sure which Bond movie they’re watching at the moment, but he assumes it’s Crowley’s favorite.

But during an intense shootout scene, Aziraphale does get a little bored. He’s always preferred scenes of great dialogue, heartfelt moments passing between characters. Right now he’s just seeing mediocre special effects and lots of screaming. He gets the appeal, sort of, but it’s just not his thing.

Crowley on the other hand was as tuned in as ever. Aziraphale smiled as he watched his friend’s intense expression, seeing Crowley suppress his excitement over a movie he knows he’s had to have seen dozens of times now.

His gaze wanders back down to Crowley’s torso, “Where did you get that shirt? Really, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear it.”

Crowley blinked like snapping out of a trance, trying to look nonchalant as insecurity trickled over him. “Oh, this thing? M’not sure I recall,” he snuggled deeper into Aziraphale’s chest, “It’s my night shirt. Don’t wear it often.”

Aziraphale squinted. “You’re ‘not sure you recall’?”

Crowley looked up at Aziraphale, yellow eyes bearing into blue, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Aziraphale looked puzzled, shaking Crowley’s shoulder playfully and smiling at the hiss it produced, “Are you hiding something from me?”

“No, stop pestering me,” Crowley growled, but it was entirely unconvincing with that playful grin on his face. He faced the TV again as if his mind wasn’t completely on the angel holding him tight.

“You’re really not going to tell me?” Aziraphale giggled, “It can’t be that bad, darling, it’s just a t-shirt.”

Crowley groaned, hiding his face in Aziraphale’s chest, “Nooooo nonononono, I’m not talking,” he said, words muffled in Aziraphale’s silk pajamas.

Aziraphale raised his eyebrows playfully, rubbing up and down Crowley’s back through the shirt in question. “You know, humans have this fun little game they play to make someone reveal funny secrets. I only wonder if it will actually work on a demon.”

Crowley looked up at Aziraphale with a suspicious glare, “The hell are you talking about?”

Aziraphale said nothing, giving a nonchalant hum. Instead, he moved his hand down Crowley’s back towards his ribs, giving it a quick pinch.

Crowley squawked, arching away but getting caught in Aziraphale’s hold. He snapped a look Aziraphale’s way, “Do not.”

Aziraphale giggled in glee, wanting to clap his hands together but needing to hold Crowley close. “I wasn’t sure it would work!”

“Angel-“ Crowley growled.

“A ticklish demon. How silly~” Aziraphale sang, tickling into Crowley’s ribs without wasting any more time.

Crowley bit off a yelp, twisting in Aziraphale’s grip as if he was trying to get away (he wasn’t, but he’s allowed to play along). But Aziraphale kept pinching and prodding and finally Crowley just couldn’t hold back anymore, letting out a peal of giggles and laughs that had Aziraphale cooing.

“Nonononohohoho!” Crowley shook his head into Aziraphale’s chest, hiding his smile. His arm was a little stuck under Aziraphale’s back, so there wasn’t much else he could do.

“Saying no is what started this, dear,” Aziraphale smiled, bringing his other hand around to tickle into Crowley’s neck, relishing in how high-pitched those giggles became. “Goodness, how ticklish are you?”

“I don’t knohohow! Not tryna fihihind out-!” Crowley squeaked out the last word, finding out his ears are especially sensitive to perfectly manicured fingernails.

Crowley squirmed like a worm on a hook, pushing against Aziraphale without even meaning to, his head shaking back and forth like a protest to his giggles.

Aziraphale gasped, “Is this your first time being tickled, Crowley?”

“Stohohop!” Crowley guffawed, hardly taking in the angel’s words.

“I asked you a question,” he said simply, pinching at Crowley’s belly and watching Crowley’s feet kick the sheets.

“Fuhuhucker!” was all Crowley could get out.

“Oh alright,” Aziraphale reluctantly halted his attack, carding fingers through Crowley’s hair. “I said, was that your first time being tickled?”

Crowley huffed, pouting against Aziraphale’s chest and keeping his gaze on the TV. “You’re not even watching the movie.”

The angel chuckled lightly, giving Crowley’s head a tender kiss. “It’s a lovely movie, darling, but it’s hardly as interesting as this little discovery.”

Crowley grumbled, mumbling a response into the silk pajamas.

“What was that dear?”

Crowley lifted his head with a devious look on his face, “I said you’re a prick,” Crowley dug into Aziraphale’s sides, grinning wickedly at how wide his angel’s eyes became.

“AH! Cr-Crohohowley!” Aziraphale fell gracefully into his giggle fit, expelling his excess energy by gripping onto Crowley’s wrists.

“So I take it you’ve never been tickled either?” said Crowley as he wiggled into the angel’s ribs, biting his own cheek when Aziraphale threw his head back in laughter.

“Yehehes! I mean-! Nohoho, I-! Crohohowley plehehease!” Aziraphale never realized how difficult speaking could be when getting tickled. He truly learned something new every day with his dear demon. His mind was mush and all he could think about was how dreadfully ticklish he apparently was.

“Oh poor angel, thought he could get away with teasing a demon,” Crowley teased, poking sporadically across Aziraphale’s tummy and making the angel’s laughter grow. “Naaaah, now that I know your weakness I’m never lettin’ you live it down.”

Crowley crawled on top of Aziraphale, shoving his thumbs into his underarms. “NO! Nohoho Crohohowley! Bad snahahake!” Aziraphale teased even through his laughter, unabashedly having a great time.

“You having fun down there or somethin’?” Crowley chuckled.

“Yehehes!” Aziraphale squeaked, face turning pink from mirth.

Crowley shook his head fondly, not surprised in the slightest. But he could tell Aziraphale would probably appreciate some air soon, whether he actually needed it or not, and eased up. Not before giving his belly once last poke, of course, just to hear him yip.

Aziraphale giggled through his breath, hands resting on Crowley’s thighs. The demon couldn’t help blushing, but didn’t move.

“I never realized it felt like that,” Aziraphale said, a smile etched between his rosy cheeks. “I knew tickling was used as torture way back when, but my goodness.”

“Human vessels are a funny thing,” Crowley said, unsure of where to put his hands now that they weren’t being used as weapons. As if Aziraphale could tell, the angel gently took them in his own, laying their hands down on Crowley’s thighs.

They sat staring into each other's eyes for a while. It was such a comforting silence, one Crowley felt warm in. Why did Aziraphale always have to open his damn mouth-

“You’re quite ticklish on those ribs of yours,” Aziraphale shot a cheeky grin, eyebrows up like he’s being clever. Crowley groaned, looking up to the ceiling.

“Don’t remind me.”

“You never did tell me where you got that shirt from…?” Aziraphale said, slowly loosening his grip on Crowley’s hands before the demon squeezed back-

“I’ll end you.”

“I’m sure.”

“I’m serious, angel. Death, discorporation, sooo much paperwork-“

“Was the shirt a former lover’s? Are you embarrassed, Crowley?” Aziraphale teased as he starting fighting Crowley’s grip, their hands now playing for dominance.

Crowley grunted, not shocked that Aziraphale was winning their little fight, “Grk, no! It’s…just…a secRET-!” He was cut off by a squeak as one perfectly manicured hand tore from his grasp and gripped onto his ribs, squeezing and pinching and tickling. Crowley collapsed forward in his squirmy laughter, hand still holding tight to one of Aziraphale’s.

“Oooh a secret, you say? Do tell me more,” Aziraphale finally fought his other hand free, now tickling up and down Crowley’s torso as the demon wiggled and laughed freely on top of him. His head was pressed firmly to Aziraphale’s chest, and my that just wouldn’t do anymore, now would it?

“You keep hiding your smile from me! It’s rather unfair, my face was on full display when you tickled me,” Aziraphale said before pushing Crowley to the other side of the mattress, tickling him the whole way down. He hovered over Crowley with a big grin.

“Ahahangel! This is stupihihid!” Crowley cackled, head turning this way and that like trying to hide his face in the sheets surrounding him.

“Was it stupid when you tickled me?” Aziraphale accused, pinching Crowley’s hips and smiling when he bucked and kicked.

“GAHAHAhaha-!” Crowley guffawed, finding words very hard at the moment. “Nohoho-! Was— fuhuhunny!”

“Oh Lord, now you’re just asking for it,” Aziraphale shot his hands up into Crowley’s armpits. It tickled like hell (Heaven? no, definitely hell) on himself, so maybe it’ll be the same for Crowley.

Crowley. Screamed.

Maybe scream is the wrong word. The sound that left Crowley was like a screech, a hurtle of pure loud noise that fell into cackles, squeals, and Aziraphale’s favorite, the snort. Oh what a sound it was. The angel would never forget it (and unfortunately, neither would the demon).

“Oh wow…” Aziraphale giggled at Crowley’s expense.

“Ahahangel-! I—shihihit-! I’ll tahahalk!” Crowley managed to get the words out through his laughter, a feat he wished he could be proud of. Aziraphale conceded even though he honestly really didn’t want to. Crowley looked so cute when he laughed, it was hard to quit.

Aziraphale drew his hands away, and Crowley took a moment to catch his breath. When the moment faded, he threw a pillow over his face and screamed into it quite dramatically. Aziraphale pulled it off and held it gently in his lap.

“You were telling me about the shirt?” Aziraphale said, scribbling a finger onto Crowley’s clothed tummy. Crowley batted it away with a hiss.

“Do you even actually care about the shirt or did you just want an excuse to torture me?” Crowley tried yanking the pillow back but found it held in an iron grip. He settled for crossing his arms instead.

Aziraphale took his hand. “If you really don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to. I just thought a game would be fun,” Aziraphale handed him the pillow.

Crowley took it, raising an eyebrow, “So you were bored of the movie?”

Aziraphale winced. “…Meh?”

Crowley’s face pinched in frustration, “But it’s James ffffucking Bond! No one in the history of EVER has been bored by a James Bond movie, angel, you are literally setting records here!”

“I just prefer the softer films! You know, your…Pride And Prejudice types.”

“That’s one of your favorite books, that hardly counts.”

“It’s still a good film!”

“Okay okay, point stands though, that you only did all that to get out of watching my movie. You don’t actually care about the origins of my shirt at all, do you?” Even though his arms were already crossed, he made a little harumph motion with them, hand still holding Aziraphale’s gently. He turned his head away from Aziraphale, feigning anger. Crowley did love a petty argument every now and then.

“Oh come ooooonn,” Aziraphale shook Crowley by the shoulder with his free hand. Crowley said nothing. “Don’t be like this, you know how much I hate the silent treatment.”

Crowley gave Aziraphale a pointed look that said ‘duh, why else do you think i’m pulling the silent treatment?’ before turning back around.

Aziraphale sighed playfully, “Whatever am I going to do without you to talk to…” He couldn’t hold back a cheeky grin as he pinched Crowley’s side, the demon flinching but still saying nothing. “Who will I complain to when my favorite books get turned into terrible films?”A few pokes to the belly, and Crowley’s knees shot up. “Who will teach me about the different plant life in London?” Three pinches to the ribs and he heard a stifled giggle as Crowley’s back arched away from his fingers.

Aziraphale let the moment hang in the air. He wanted Crowley to feel anticipation crawling up his spine. Aziraphale saw him squirm slightly into the sheets.

He quickly pinched up and down Crowley’s side, from his hip to his rib, the demon flinching hard with a keening giggle. He rolled over quickly, ticklish laughter spilling from him as he slapped at Aziraphale’s hands, feet digging into the mattress. “Okay okahahay! I gihive, you dihihick!”

Aziraphale pulled away for the final time, meaning it this time (well maybe, who knows with how playful they’ve both felt this evening). He laid on his back next to a sprawled out Crowley, putting his hand in his…friend’s.

They basked in each other’s presence for a little while, rubbing their thumbs over the skin of their hands, playing with each other’s fingers, once Crowley dared to tickle Aziraphale’s palm. But then the credits started to roll on the film and Crowley felt the need to confess.

“It was a convention.”

“Hm?”

Crowley laid his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder,“It was a, er…ngk,” he squeezed Aziraphale’s hand, letting go of weird insecurities. “…a James Bond convention. They held one in London when those newer films came out. I’m a pretty big fan, you know that, so I popped by, made myself…known.” His confession was awkward but very real, and Aziraphale could tell that even as silly as it was, it did take something for Crowley to admit that. “Got a t-shirt while I was there, thought hell, why not, I’m here, the shirts here, probably made to be. So yeah. My new nightshirt.”

Aziraphale smiled so wholeheartedly at Crowley the demon was half-worried he’d pop something. “That’s so sweet, Crowley. I always knew you loved James Bond, but worthy enough to have the Anthony J. Crowley show up to his convention-?”

“Ohhhh bite me a new one, angel,” Crowley shook their intertwined fingers, getting even comfier against him. Aziraphale did the same, leaning into Crowley and wrapping an arm around his waist.

They didn’t talk about this when they woke from their nap. They didn’t need to. At least, they thought they didn’t need to. Their time has always been limitless. They thought their love always would be too.

. . .

a/n : ok im going to sleep goobyeee

[i-write-boop-spoops]

Dating Arven headcanons

hello friends, apologies for the wait on this one! here's some fluffy arven content, with very mild angst and spoilers! reader is gn and basically the scarvio mc

also formatting might be weird cuz i'm on mobile

Enjoy!

Arven is so SOFT towards you

You know, there’s something just so sweet and wholesome about a school romance

Awkward and flustered and abrasive and a bit overwhelmed by his feelings, yes

But undeniably devoted, passionate and just so damn happy to be with you

It’s his first romantic relationship ever

One of his first relationships of any kind really

He’s new to a lot of this stuff, new to opening up about how he feels

It helps that you were friends first

Faced all those titans, saved Mabostiff, ventured to Area Zero together

He had SUCH a big crush on you - he didn’t even realise it at first, you were just his little buddy!

Penny teased him endlessly about it

Luckily due to how bloody obvious it was, it was fairly simple for you to slide in and ask him to be your bf

Which of course, he gladly accepted!

After spending ten minutes staring at you in disbelief

Arven’s very new to affection

Apparently a fistbump is not considered romantic

But he absolutely loves it!

He is so very touch-starved

Relishes all your hugs and kisses

Has a habit of just slumping himself against you, wanting to take in all your lovely warmth and scent

Definitely loves to hug you so tight you’d vanish otherwise

Holds your hand ALL the time!

Most PDA is too much for him, but if he could, he would never let go of your hand

It fits so perfectly in his!

His favourite thing ever is when you gently brush his hair away from his face

And cup his cheek

And then he touches your hand 😳

You and Mabostiff are best friends now

Which is good, because if his doggy didn’t like you, you’d be gone

You like taking him for walks together

Brushing him (you keep finding his fur EVERYWHERE)

Bathing him was quite the experience

Somehow more water was on the floor (and the two of you) then on him!

Ah, but Mabostiff’s the bestest boy ever, so it was fine!

Study-dates!

He may be a year ahead, but he’s not the most studious of individuals

So you two like to hunker down in his dorm and study together

Sure, you spend some of it goofing off, but you’re pretty good at holding each other accountable and get work done

You like to cover his notes in love hearts and phrases of love & encouragement!!

You barely eat cafeteria food now

When you have a cute chef bf who loves to cook (for you especially) why eat anywhere else

Cooking for you, providing for you, it makes him feel so happy and needed and valued

And speaking of cooking

He’s started teaching you how to cook

He’s quite a good teacher (though sometimes he can get a little annoyed and h u f f y)

(but you’re cute so it doesn’t last lol)

One day you aim to be the best assistant chef ever!

Now you just want to be able to cook something half-decent for him

Once you do, he’ll probably cry

He’s not used to home-cooked meals!

Please play with his hair! Braid it! Style it!

He will be FOREVER in your debt!

Trips across Paldea!

Food-tastings!

Ingredient hunting!

Camping trips!

Arven is very protective of you

To the point of jealousy sometimes

Has a habit of shielding you from whatever threat, be it a scary Pokemon or just a catty peer, with his body

He’s very afraid of losing you

After all, his own parents walked out on him

Who’s to say you won’t?

You, obviously, assure him you’d NEVER do such a thing

And that he deserves all the love and care this great big world has to offer

And y’know, he’s really starting to believe you 🙂

OF COURSE you go to the academy’s prom/formal together

Your photos are so cute!

(and yes, mabostiff was there too!)

(and yes, he was wearing a collar that matched your formal outfits!)

[xinsareforever]

You still haven't done the nsfw alphabet with somber

Somber X GN! Reader

Topic:NSFW Alphabet

Tags:Smut

---

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

She cares for you sooo much, trying to do everything for you ! Will get you anything that you may want after your done and may share her stuff w her but that’s if she’s okay if ya know what I mean. She uses her powers trying to get her stuff.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Her fave body part is her thighs mostly, no reason rlly she just likes them

Her fave thing about their partner: Everything since she wants to love you lots from head to toe

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

She doesn’t like when you cum in the inside of her if she’s not ready to have a child or not commited to each other. Does appreciate facials though.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Roleplay is their thing but too scared to say.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Not really experience like 4/10

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Suspended Congress or a Mating press-

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Doesn’t really joke much but she will try to talk to you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Since she’s kind of insecure about herself so she shaves it.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

They love hugging and giving kisses during it. Loves when you give her affection aswell

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Only does it if your not there or to shy to ask

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Likes Roleplay 10% public play..

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

In the bedroom but do to K sometimes hidden public

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Little Intimate acts or flirting mostly if she’s close to you!

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Bodily fluids, BDSM etc

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving oral seems like more of her thing! Her skill is kinda good but she stills prefers to receive to give you pleasure

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Mostly Slow and sensual if she’s domming, she likes to savor her time! When your on top just go as you pleas- she wont stop you-

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies are depending on you really if you want to do it with her quickly.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

like K, its a 10% chance if she wants to take a risj

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

About like 3-4 rounds due to her power granting her the ability to somewhat last long

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

She doesnt really like to use them but sometimes on her self if she’s alone.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

She never really tease but may lightly tease you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

SHES LOUD- COVER HER MOUTH

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

She sometimes try out different outfits that make you look good.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Cant answer thisss

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not high, high, but their libido is like a medium

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It’s Somber so in 5 minutes she make sure your okay an go to sleep afterwards.

[chameleonspell]

HTDC commentary - 3: breathe

[Looking back at HTDC after nearly ten years: comments on lore, character notes, influences, art, whatever. May contain spoilers for later chapters.]

chapter text: 3: breathe

In this bit, I get explicit about some of the stuff implied by Ire's behaviour, last chapter. Which I have mixed feelings about now, because it reads very blunt and tell-not-show and whatever, but... oh, well. At other times I'm maybe not obvious enough with character's internal processes, and the reader should at least understand the terms Ire uses for his own issues. This is all stuff Ire is self-aware about and he's currently reflecting on it, so fine, let's set out Iriel's psychological stall.

only distantly registering the wet ground soaking through his pants.

Wait, no, let's talk about his pants, because alexgaretti dragged me about this later, and I deserve it - why did I convert everything else about the narration into my native British English spellings, but then keep saying "pants" instead of "trousers"? I DON'T KNOW, OKAY, IT JUST FELT WRONG. Pants are how leg-things are labelled in the Morrowind game! Common pants, extravagant pants, it's all pants! People wear pants, that's just how it is. I felt weird enough spelling "bonemould" with a U, leave me alone.

Imprisonment, he knew, was part of it. Of course it had affected him, he had been foolish to expect otherwise. Ridiculous to think he could simply pick up his life where he had left off.

There are obvious reasons why Bethesda games never do anything further with their habitual gambit of starting your character as a prisoner - the player should get to decide who their character is, and how they react! The game isn't going to force you to consider that a character who has been in jail for any length of time (especially delicate, cruelly-framed prisoner characters) may have been wildly traumatised by this experience, and may have difficulty adjusting to being suddenly given their freedom.

Fanfic is the trauma-processing place, though, so naturally we all love having carte blanche to let our characters be really messed up by it.

He offended someone by staring at them? Why? How many seconds were you allowed to look at someone? Wait, not looking at them could be rude too? How could anyone figure out this stuff? If they couldn’t even explain to him how to do it right, why tell him he was doing it wrong?

This chapter is where people started asking me if Iriel has autism. Which I still don't have a concrete answer for! Partly because I'm not sure a fictional character benefits from that kind of word-of-god authorial specificity, when you could just let readers decide, and relate to him however they want to. But also because if Ire's autistic, then probably I'm autistic, and it's not like I'm against the concept, but I really don't know! When I was writing HTDC, I labelled a lot of my behaviours as social anxiety, because they primarily manifested when I was under stress. It blew my mind slightly when someone said to me, "what if it's just that being under stress removes your ability to mask?". I'm still thinking about that one, to be honest, but I'll spare you my non-conclusions, here.

Then he hit adolescence, and it turned out that everything prior had just been the warm-up act for being a queer teenager completely unequipped to conceal this fact from his incomprehending parents and conservative town.

While I'm still vaguely irritated by this chapter, at least we didn't get all this backstory as actual written chapters, right? Gotta start in media res. Gotta skip to the bits that matter for this story. 

Also, we don't need to have the boring argument about whether it's more radical/regressive to write fantasy queer utopias, or to recreate systems of oppression in fantasy worlds, right? Of course people can do either, do both, do whatever suits their purpose and is interesting.

I've read some amazing fic* set in Summerset, where homosexuality was an accepted and valued part of society. That approach is totally valid! It just didn't fit what I wanted to do, here, so my headcanons are different.

Based on what I'd inferred about Altmer values (I don't know ESO, don't talk to me about ESO), homophobia as a default in that society does seem very plausible to me. Summerset is a culture where bloodlines (and so heterosexual procreative pairings) are obsessively cultivated. Your blood is who you are, it’s fixed and unalterable, and if you’re acting (or fucking) against the overall societal interest, there must be something wrong with you and your blood.

According to a first-era emissary to the Altmer isles: "Breeding outside the pure line is a terrible, unthinkable crime, and taken as prima facia evidence of the tainted blood of the individual in question- if they were, they wouldn't have the impulse to do it. Exile to the mainland is regarded as equivalent to a death sentence, since there is no purpose in living outside their ideal society."

Now, we have to take this with a heavy pinch of salt. He goes on to write: "They have no real names of their own, only combinations of numbers that, when spoken aloud, sound to human ears as such. They feel no real tenderness for one another and have no concept of compassion." So, as with any TES text: biased source. But I think it's reasonable to assume that the Altmer do care a lot about purity of bloodlines, since this theme reoccurs elsewhere.

* Exhibit A: In Pedo Impedimenta, which is hands-down the best Summerset fic around, and in terms of wildly imaginative headcanons, one of the best TES fics, full stop. It's... a lot. It's unfinished, but you should read it anyway.

He had a plan: the Crystal Tower. Get there, he told himself, and everything will be all right. And then he did… and it wasn’t.

The fic I linked above, In Pedo Impedimenta, is set in the 4th era, and has a scene in which an Imperial tries to make a politely regretful remark about the tragic destruction of the Crystal Tower during the Oblivion Crisis. He is blindsided by how even the slightest mention sucks the air out of the room, sending half the Altmer into tearful, traumatised paroxysms of shock, while others barely restrain themselves from murdering him. The level of social faux pas is off the charts, basically. Altmer grief for the Tower is fathomless, because the Crystal Tower represented the Altmer people, was their heart, soul, ancestral memory, you name it. A symbol of Altmeri perfection.

Iriel revered the Tower from childhood, grew up struggling to prove himself worthy. Getting accepted there was a validation of his entire being, evidence that whatever anyone else thought, he was capable of touching, representing and embodying that perfection. Getting expelled, therefore, was equally personal.

Intellectually, Iriel knows there were petty, down-to-earth reasons for his expulsion, but that sort of symbolism is hard to shake.

Speaking of symbolism, according to ESO, the Crystal Tower looks like this. Yes, I know. I hate it, I had not seen this when I wrote about it, and I honestly refuse to accept it. I wanted it to be a symbol of Iriel's pure desire for knowledge and intellectual advancement, but SOME PEOPLE want to make everything he does into a sex joke. I hate it, and I don't care that it's got a nice safe flared base.

Invisibility potions require diamonds - too expensive to make a habit of. Ire began to practice invisibility cantrips obsessively. [...] Gradually, he discovered that more subtle and specialised effects were possible with illusion, allowing him to adjust his “dosage” according to the situation.

Illusion magic! Already, it's being framed as a sort of drug, with dosages and expensive dependency. Iriel makes this framing himself, and later mutters sarcastically about his addictive personality. But what is he trying to medicate away? Short answer: himself. Physically or mentally can vary. I told people from the start: the title of the fic was never metaphorical.

Depending on the alchemical properties of the bog, corpses could either remain perfectly preserved indefinitely, or decompose to skeletons in mere hours. He suspected that he was not the former.

Iriel has a terrible phobia of skeletons and bones, though I don't think I knew that yet, when I wrote this line. But this is the crux of it: bones are what's left, when everything else has been taken away, all the soft, pretty, fleshy nonsense that buffers our inmost selves from the outside world. Bones have nowhere to hide. And, to Iriel at least, they are fucking horrid.

But Iriel, we could say, what's the alternative? That corpses don't decompose? That dead people stay the same forever, and never really leave? Isn't that differently horrid? I got really obsessed with this theme, later, something Morrowind's burial customs makes easy.

Sinilakki drew Iriel being all translucent in the swamp.

Perhaps I shouldn't have said Iriel had a psychological stall. Stalls don't move, and the entire point of a character-driven narrative is to move a character, right? How are we moving them? On rails, like a train? Self-driven, or carried passenger? That has to change, too, right?

Around half-way through writing HTDC, I made a notes document, trying to clarify to myself what kind of story I was trying to tell. I did it by defining the sort of story I wasn't trying to tell, and I'm just gonna copy-paste it all here, stream-of-consciousness non-capitalisation and all:

not a coming of age story

ire knows who he is (that's kinda the problem), he's an adult now, whatever the fuck that means.

it's about what happens next, how he can fit this adult self of his into the world (can he? does he want to? what kind of world? there are many.) what does it mean to be normal, does he want that? why/why not?

if he fits in, what will that cost him? if he walks away from everything, what will that cost him? what does he value most? could he still change? should he? what would that cost? are these cost estimates of his accurate?? how is even mental accounting???

how mutable is his identity, his self-image, the image he projects? which one is real, are any of them real? is he a trick of the light, reflecting false images with nothing behind it at all? smoke and mirrors.

not a coming out story

ire's out to his family (he's never had much choice about it) and he's past all that terrified self-realisation, first love/lust bit, past the initial horror of it. the worst already happened, in terms of his family and his old life, it's dead and gone, and he survived. and he's bored now. bored and bitter. because it ought to get easier, and it doesn't. "it gets better" got him through his teens. but he's still waiting, and nothing fucking changes, or rather, it got worse. where is his community? is that a thing? and while plenty of this is beyond his control, part of it is internal. Ire maintains, on a logical, rational, principled level, that there's nothing wrong with his sexuality, and that what happened wasn't his fault, that he was badly treated, that he deserves the same right to love and be happy as anyone. HOWEVER. it's not as simple as that. he's been deeply psychologically damaged by homophobia, it has claws in his self esteem that he can't seem to shift. he worries he can't maintain a healthy relationship because of it. worries he can't have a healthy relationship with himself.

not a romance

it's not about iriel falling in love with someone truly, madly, deeply, permanently happy ever after. it's certainly not about a relationship fixing his problems, if anything it gives him more.

it is about relationships, in particular his changing relationship with julan, and the ways it makes him examine himself and how he interacts, and what he wants from another person. What he did wrong in the past, and what he needs to stop blaming himself for. And what his partners need from him, and how he can learn to meet those needs, should he choose to do so. about that negotiation. about failing at it, about screwing things up really badly, on both sides, and where that ends up. about trying to fix things. about what you can/should forgive, what you can't, and what forgiveness means. about recognising when to hold on to someone and when to let go.

what is preventing iriel from building healthy relationships? from feeling, expressing and receiving love? how does this change? what kinds of relationships/people are good for him?

not a tragedy

ire's been through enough shit, and doesn't really believe happiness is likely. this is not about proving him right. it's not about giving him a happy ending on a plate either, his is not a journey of one step, and this story is limited in scope. but it's about managing loss & moving forward.

ok so what is it?

it is about survival and growth. how ire is paralysed by his trauma, and resists change, and the ways he struggles to get past this. to take control of himself & be more than a product of his past & his conditions. to make choices, not be swept along/reacting. to find ways of being in the world and engaging with it.

its about ire's coping mechanisms. what they are, why he has them, how they help him, how some of them damage or restrict him. whether he needs them, or can replace them, reconfigure them, drop them entirely. the things you do to survive are not the things you do to get free. how can ire move from survival to getting free?

it's about surviving, and then about surviving/outgrowing the person you had to become in order to survive.

All aboard, guarfuckers! We've got 197 miles of bad road!

next: 4: falling previous: 2: labels

[1p2p-heta-suggestives]

since you did a 2p version.. 1p liechtenstein alphabet if possible? don’t stress on it though!

Usual disclaimers: I see her as around my age, 18, since she has no canon age afaik, I'm not writing nsfvv of minors. Read more is here so people don’t accidentally read this kind of content without wanting to.

A - Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

• Immediately cuddles up to them, she's super affectionate with them, a lot of compliments and affection are to be expected with her

B - Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

• She loves her smile, everyone always compliments her on how cute it is so she smiles whenever she can

• She loves all of them, there’s no favourite parts because everything about them is equally as amazing to her

C - Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

• She doesn’t really mind where her partner cums, she’d just prefer it to be away from her face because she doesn’t want to risk it getting in her hair

D - Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

• Got caught watching porn once and never recovered, hasn’t touched it since because she’s mortified

E - Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

• Barely experienced, but she’s not afraid to admit that fact either

F - Favorite position (This goes without saying)

• Cuddle fucking is most definitely her favourite, it allows her to be close to her parter

G - Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? Etc.)

• She’s mostly just very soft and sweet, not really goofy or serious at all

H - Hair (How well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? Etc.)

• She has a thin strip (landing strip? I. Don’t know what it’s called.) but she shaved other than that, it’s the same colour as her hair

I - Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

• She’s very intimate, she’s the sweetest person ever and that doesn’t stop when it comes to the bedroom

J - Jack off (Masturbation headcanon)

• She usually doesn’t, unless she’s really horny and doesn’t have any other way to deal with it

K - Kink (One or more of their kinks)

• Praise (giving, recieving)

• Overstimulation (she’s very easy to overstimulate)

• Creampies

L - Location (Favorite places to do the do)

• Her partner’s room, it makes the most sense to her to go there, she’s not against fucking in their living room though

M - Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

• Neck kisses are her weak spot, she absolutely loves them

N - No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

• Anything with either of them being hurt, just the idea freaks her out

O - Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

• Surprisingly really good, despite what most people would expect. She prefers to receive but she’ll always return the favour to them.

P - Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.)

• Slow and sensual is her preference

Q - Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

• Doesn’t like them, she doesn’t understand the appeal, she prefers to take her time with her partner

R - Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? Etc.)

• Risks are a hard no and she doesn’t really like experimenting, she’s happy with what she likes even if it’s vanilla to other people

S - Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

• Maybe two rounds and she’s overstimulated, doesn’t mind being pushed past that though. She cums pretty fast, much to her own embarrassment, maybe 6 minutes.

T - Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

• She doesn’t own any, she’s like to have one but she’s too mortified at the idea of someone else finding it

U - Unfair (How much they like to tease)

• She doesn’t tease at all, it does nothing for her and she likes pleasing her partner more

V - Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

• She’s quite loud, moaning and whimpering is very common with her, along with being very vocal with praising

W - Wild card (A random headcanon for the character)

• Her chest is extremely sensitive, if someone even accidentally brushes against her chest then she has to go off to a bathroom to cool herself down

X - X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

As per usual for the hetawomen, cup size because I still have no idea how to describe a vagina :)

• A cup, she’s pretty insecure about it

Y - Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

• It’s not that high, she mostly just sees it as a way to be closer to her partner so it’s more whenever they feel like it

Z - Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

• She’ll only fall asleep if she’s cuddled up to them, otherwise she’ll go on about her day and sleep later that night

[mdhwrites]

Since you started Arcane I gotta ask. I think you mentioned about Powder not reacting accordingly to her family death from the bomb... on that scene she was sorry to Vi she messed up not that she killed their father basically. Vi reacted "normally" but Powder didn't show any remorse.

Do you think she became numb to "death" since she witnessed it from a young age with her parents on the bridge? Vi was a bit older so maybe she conceptualized it already. Since then it's clear they faced death many times around, Zaun is harsh environment/upbringing after all, what's horrible to us is average there. I think she may have became a sociopath from it. Vi as well to an extent but only to strangers, death of close ones will still affect her, Jinx cares if only Vi dies tho (well not just her. Actually I'd add more to that but it'll be spoilers until u finish so I'll wait)

So first: I won't be finishing Arcane. That sucks but at least until I can bury my own trauma from my brother, I just can't have that casting a shadow over it. It'll make it hard for me to enjoy any of it, let alone review it properly.

However, I actually want to rebuff this analysis of how Powder reacts and try and be a bit fairer myself. First: She does technically react to her father's death but she never apologizes. She instead acts like a small, frightened child. She starts shutting down, wanting to be assured things will be okay. That things are okay. It's a very classic response to this sort of trauma, not helped by the fact that, as someone else pointed out, Vi had taught her to react to things with violence but now violence was getting her in trouble.

That is the counterpoint though, isn't it? Milo says in the first episode that Vi was twice the person Powder was and I kind of have to wonder if that meant she actually, you know... Was a member of Zaun. Was a member of the violence and trouble. Even worse when you remember that while they're young, Powder still looks at least 5 during the battle at the bridge that claimed their parents. That KILLED their PARENTS. And she isn't breaking down or running from the scary man who just murdered an enforcer in that scene.

And the rest of the first three episodes are warring with itself over how to write Powder. Is she a ruthless child of Zaun, out for blood and to make a name for herself? The sort that would have absolutely godlike aim even at her age, at the point where she can far surpass others who are years older than her with ease? All while having a cold, expressionless face until she's done with her task? Or is she the innocent? The one who can only run and who seems damn near traumatized by the sight of just a street brawl happening in front of her? The noise fades out and echoes while things go into more slow mo like most media does to show something horrifying, which the street fight in episode 1 seems to supposed to be for Powder, but like... Is that REALLY the first street fight she's seen? Milo even says she needs to take a punch like she's literally never been hit, which does have the horror of Vi being the first person to hit her but this is the same person who made an explosive monkey filled with a material she knew could do some REAL damage to people and property.

It's still done well enough that Powder isn't awful. The pain of the last scenes of episode 3 are still mostly earned and I even admitted in my original review that I had to recognize that I had a problem due to personal elements. After all, characters can be multifaceted, have different sides to them, etc. like that... But that works a lot better for adults like Vander who have had the life experience to turn one side on and one side off. Even then, you still see a core of a person in there.

Meanwhile, Powder is fighting between the innocent little girl who's meant to die and her champion form, Jinx, and those parts to me are just a bit too incongruous. A little too at odds without a bit more smoothing out. It's SO close to being right though that I do want to cut it more slack than I originally did.

[smokeybrandreviews]

Guten Essen

It’s been a few weeks since Confluence of Nothingness completed and i was able to sweep the new Iron Blood ships. That sh*t taxed my pockets way more than i would have liked but, i must say, just Bismarck Zwei has been worth the effort. She has been everything Ultra Rare ship should be. In terms of raw power, Zwei is a whole ass problem. Sure, stat wise, she’s slightly above average but her skills, when executed properly, are kind of f*cking amazing. Zwei is, admittedly, no Musashi but for a UR KMS, I'm here for all of it. Regensberg is a fun ship, overall, but kind of a pain to use properly. A lot of her appeal is based on how she’s deployed but i kind of don’t care about that type of stuff. I have my Feet which i run and Regensberg is, more or less, eye candy to me. Also, but that Dark Dragon, Brilliant Beach, though! I just really love her design. Now, Otto von Alvensleben, on the other hand, is a gem. This ship is quite the powerhouse and really made the grind to max out my new boats, a total breeze. Otto eats mobs for breakfast and when you’re about that power leveling, this sh*t is a goddamn godsend. Confluence of Nothingness paid off tremendously for me in terms of raw power and i am completely satisfied with the results.

As far as the grind is concerned, i have finished maxing the levels of all of the Nothingness ships, their affection, as well as their skills, save U-556 META. Still debating whether to actually grind her out as i don’t use META ships at all but, you know, KMS main and all so we’ll see. It’s odd having completely maxed out the new boats in such a short time, took me about three days after they dropped from the Banner, one of which is topped out at 125. I’ll let you guess which one that is, or not. It’s Zwei. Of course it’s Zwei. She’s a UR Kraut. Of course i would break her limit first. The problem i have now is the fact i only have enough of those goddamn Cognitive Arrays to Limit Break one of my SR ships. I’m leaning toward Otto for the sheer versatility but i REALLY like Regensberg. I’ll get enough to break the other one during the next Seasonal Cruise but, i mean, right now? The Limit Break grind is the only thing i have left for these two so it kind of doesn’t matter either way but, like, doesn’t it? Decisions, decisions. It’ll probably be Otto but, you know, Musashi is also an option. She’s just sitting over there in my neglected Sakura dock, looking awesome and being the best UR available in the game right now, with a stockpile of Experience that will immediately blast her to level 125 the second i Break her. But that’s kind of the point. The short-lived KMS grind is complete and i have found myself at the same impasse i was at before Azur Lane dropped Confluence of Nothingness: What do i do next?

Marco Polo is basically complete, i just need to grind out that last bit of Experience. I mean, U-556 META is always an option but I'll never use her for anything, especially considering the other Super Rare KMS subs in my Fleet are, technically, better and they’re all topped out at level 125 already. I could construct another PR ship or two, kind of gave up on the other Docks because that sh*t was getting expensive and i don’t care to do it in general. I still want Kronshtadt and Shimakaze, but, like, i don’t particularly care to finish the rest of those docks. And the Ruskies are actually my second favorite Fleet in the entire game! Maybe I'll focus on the Rainbow Ships for now. Not only the Ultra Rare boats but the Decisive ones, too, because, holy sh*t, some of those Decisives are a big time. Azuma dropped way back in Series Two so i imagine a Fate Simulation may be on the way and, even without one, she’s still a problem. Her Series mate, Friedrich, got one a few months back and that sh*t has made her an absolute monster, even if she was one to begin with. I dunno, man, I'll think about it while i enjoy my buffed up Iron Blood dock for a while. So far, we KMS mains aren’t eating like last year but the dish served up this time, was absolutely decadent.

[smokeybrand]

Guten Essen

It’s been a few weeks since Confluence of Nothingness completed and i was able to sweep the new Iron Blood ships. That sh*t taxed my pockets way more than i would have liked but, i must say, just Bismarck Zwei has been worth the effort. She has been everything Ultra Rare ship should be. In terms of raw power, Zwei is a whole ass problem. Sure, stat wise, she’s slightly above average but her skills, when executed properly, are kind of f*cking amazing. Zwei is, admittedly, no Musashi but for a UR KMS, I'm here for all of it. Regensberg is a fun ship, overall, but kind of a pain to use properly. A lot of her appeal is based on how she’s deployed but i kind of don’t care about that type of stuff. I have my Feet which i run and Regensberg is, more or less, eye candy to me. Also, but that Dark Dragon, Brilliant Beach, though! I just really love her design. Now, Otto von Alvensleben, on the other hand, is a gem. This ship is quite the powerhouse and really made the grind to max out my new boats, a total breeze. Otto eats mobs for breakfast and when you’re about that power leveling, this sh*t is a goddamn godsend. Confluence of Nothingness paid off tremendously for me in terms of raw power and i am completely satisfied with the results.

As far as the grind is concerned, i have finished maxing the levels of all of the Nothingness ships, their affection, as well as their skills, save U-556 META. Still debating whether to actually grind her out as i don’t use META ships at all but, you know, KMS main and all so we’ll see. It’s odd having completely maxed out the new boats in such a short time, took me about three days after they dropped from the Banner, one of which is topped out at 125. I’ll let you guess which one that is, or not. It’s Zwei. Of course it’s Zwei. She’s a UR Kraut. Of course i would break her limit first. The problem i have now is the fact i only have enough of those goddamn Cognitive Arrays to Limit Break one of my SR ships. I’m leaning toward Otto for the sheer versatility but i REALLY like Regensberg. I’ll get enough to break the other one during the next Seasonal Cruise but, i mean, right now? The Limit Break grind is the only thing i have left for these two so it kind of doesn’t matter either way but, like, doesn’t it? Decisions, decisions. It’ll probably be Otto but, you know, Musashi is also an option. She’s just sitting over there in my neglected Sakura dock, looking awesome and being the best UR available in the game right now, with a stockpile of Experience that will immediately blast her to level 125 the second i Break her. But that’s kind of the point. The short-lived KMS grind is complete and i have found myself at the same impasse i was at before Azur Lane dropped Confluence of Nothingness: What do i do next?

Marco Polo is basically complete, i just need to grind out that last bit of Experience. I mean, U-556 META is always an option but I'll never use her for anything, especially considering the other Super Rare KMS subs in my Fleet are, technically, better and they’re all topped out at level 125 already. I could construct another PR ship or two, kind of gave up on the other Docks because that sh*t was getting expensive and i don’t care to do it in general. I still want Kronshtadt and Shimakaze, but, like, i don’t particularly care to finish the rest of those docks. And the Ruskies are actually my second favorite Fleet in the entire game! Maybe I'll focus on the Rainbow Ships for now. Not only the Ultra Rare boats but the Decisive ones, too, because, holy sh*t, some of those Decisives are a big time. Azuma dropped way back in Series Two so i imagine a Fate Simulation may be on the way and, even without one, she’s still a problem. Her Series mate, Friedrich, got one a few months back and that sh*t has made her an absolute monster, even if she was one to begin with. I dunno, man, I'll think about it while i enjoy my buffed up Iron Blood dock for a while. So far, we KMS mains aren’t eating like last year but the dish served up this time, was absolutely decadent.

[frankcastleonlyfans]

Hi there,

Can u write something like Viserys is jealous of daemon because his wife is pregnant as well the queen but she’s fine, and when the queen and de baby died, daemon wife gave birth like the next day, to a boy and the birth was okay. The midwife told them that was quick. Viserys kind tell daemon that he envy him for this.

hello dear nonnie!! so, i just wrote this little drabble and it made tear up really bad. i also had an alternative ending where the reader delivered a girl and named it "aemma", but that's not what you asked for so, anyways, i hope you like 💓

Being pregnant at the same time as your best friend seemed like a dream. Aemma had been through the pregnancy experience many times before you, although she had delivered a healthy child only once. This was your first pregnancy, and it worried you that everything felt incredibly normal. It wasn't supposed to be like that. Pregnancy is a scary thing, at least, that's what you've been told your whole life.

As you played around with you husband and went on dragonrides like you always did in your free time, Aemma struggled more and more. She would be delivering her child in the next moon, while yours was many moons away.

That felt wrong. You were eight months pregnant, and never felt a single pain, your feet never swelled, your mood never changed, it was like you were the same you have always been — but with a swollen belly. While you were living your best life, Aemma looked like she had been living in the seven hells during the last nine months.

"You look better" You reassured her, placing a caring hand on top of her huge belly.

"You look like always." Aemma scoffed, making you giggle, "It's like pregnancy doesn't affect you at all."

"Oh, but it does affect me. It's terrible to find a comfortable position to hug her." Daemon smiled, hugging your body from behind.

Viserys silently watched your conversation with Aemma, but you could feel his staring gaze at your prominent stomach. It didn't bother you at all, you knew he was curious about your pregnancy, like everyone else.

"Have you thought about names yet?" Viserys murmured.

You smiled looking at Daemon, and nodded, giving him permission to reveal your surprise.

"Well, if it's a girl, Rhaenyra said we should name her Daenys. If it's a boy... we wanted it to be Baelon, you know, after our father. But we know you already chose it for the future heir, so we decided that we should name our son after you." Daemon gave his signature smirk. His brother's shocked face was unforgettable.

"Daemon, I-" Viserys smiled, speechless.

"It's okay. We know." You grinned, taking both Viserys' hand and Aemma's in yours.

Three days after that nice afternoon, you found yourself heartbroken. Daemon tried to protect you at all costs, but of course the sad news eventually would reach your ears. And when it did, Aemma's death triggered you into labor. Your water broke, but you didn't felt any pain at all. No physical pain, but your heart ached in sorrow. Your babe was coming early, and yet, you didn't feel anything but the wetness running between your legs.

Daemon took you to your chambers, where no scream was heard. The maester told you to push, and once you did, finally showed some emotion. You winced in pain, having your parts being ripped by your child, and allowed yourself to cry. It hurt so bad, but even then you were crying not because of the unbearable child birth pain, but because you knew that was nothing compared to what Aemma felt before her last breath.

When the midwife placed the little boy in your arms, you gave him a sad smile. No one told you if the queen had delivered a boy, but your mind immediately took you to the possibility of Baelon's birth — and death — a day before your little Viserys was born.

"He's healthy and strong, my prince. Came out really quick and effortlessly!" The midwife said in enthusiasm.

Daemon took a long and comforting breath in relief when someone finally told him that both you and the child were out of danger.

The breaking news of your labor reached the king, who asked to see the baby. Your maid was the one delivering the message to your chambers, and Daemon hurried to take the babe to meet his uncle, having in mind that perhaps that should cheer him up.

Viserys looked at the child, and his lips curved in a small smile. A frown formed in his face as his eyes teared up, and the king lowered his head avoiding his brother's eyes.

"How is she?" Viserys questioned.

"Surprisingly well."

"Is not that surprising, is it?" Viserys retorted, "And the babe?"

"A healthy and strong boy. The midwife said he came out quickly."

Viserys nodded, taking a deep breath while pacing around the room, and playing with a small golden signet ring between his fingers.

Daemon sighed, "I guess I never told you how sorry I am that she's gone. I truly am, Viserys. Aemma was loved, especially by Y/N. The Queen’s death triggered her early labor."

"I am the one who's sorry." Viserys looked at his brother, his lilac orbits were covered by a glossy barrier of tears, "My wife and child are dead, and the only thing I can feel right now is envy. You had a baby boy, and Y/N is fine, while I lost my family. I lost her…"

Daemon tried to open his mouth to say something, but his brother continued, "I know it is not your fault, and neither is Y/N's that her pregnancy was so perfect, but I can't help it. I'm sorry Daemon, but do know, I'm also happy for you. Please, give Y/N my best wishes, I hope she recovers quickly, as I am sure she will."

Daemon silently nodded, leaving the room.

[atomic-taco-muffin]

Do you have a Noctis nsfw alphabet ? 0:

I don't. Today is your lucky day!

Noctis NSFW Alphabet

Warnings: What the title says. If that makes you uncomfy, then please don’t read

Rating: NSFW under the cut

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He’s kind of simple with his aftercare at first. But once you tell him what you need, then he’ll get them for you. You’re his prince/princess. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On him, he loves his arms. I mean, have you seen them?! He can lift you easily! On you, he loves your smile. Watching you smile, makes his heart warm every day. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

His cum is kind of milky and has a salty taste to it. He doesn’t care where he cums. It doesn’t matter if it’s in a condom, raw, or on your tummy. He’s fine with whatever. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wanted to do it on his dad’s throne once, but Ignis practically watches him like a hawk. Same with his dad. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

To be honest, he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. Being royalty has kind of affected his relationships. He never really had time to know what dating was like. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He likes the classic missionary. It’s mainly because that’s the only position he knows but it’s also because he likes seeing your body sprawled out on the bed. He loves it. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Yeah, no. Not happening. Don’t even try. He doesn’t even know any sex jokes. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

His pubes are like a bitch black color and he grooms them as much as possible. He does shave from time to time, but he doesn’t really like to do it. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Oh yeah. Intimacy is very important with him. He gets the wine, the red rose petals. He’s a little awkward but he does his best. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He likes to jack off sometimes. It mainly happens he’s stressed and he can’t find you. And when you’re off doing a mission or something and he misses you a lot. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He doesn’t have a lot of kinks but I do think he has a slight daddy kink and likes to dabble in bondage 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Like I said earlier, it’s gonna be strictly in the bedroom for now. Just until Ignis and his dad can get off his ass. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Just tease him and he’ll whisk you away to the bedroom. That, and when he’s stressed. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Nothing that can hurt you. Like knives and things like that

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves being in between your thighs. To him, your pleasure comes way before his. Plus, he loves the feeling of your hands tugging on his hair. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He likes to go both fast and slow. It mainly depends on how you want it. Again, your pleasure comes before his. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He doesn’t do them a lot but sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do. He does end up being late to royal meetings sometimes. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He is willing to experiment and does want to take risks but again, Ignis and Regis. He can never get them off his ass. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can last for about 2-3 rounds, before he starts to feel exhausted. Use that knowledge wisely. It may give you a chance to dom him. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He owns like one vibrator and that’s it. And he only uses it on you. Don’t ask why he bought it. He doesn’t even know himself. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He likes to tease sometimes, just to see how cute you are when you squirm. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

The most you’re gonna hear is panting and groaning but that’s it. Unless, you find a way to dom him. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He does dabble in cosplay sometimes and once got you a sexy chocobo costume. Did it lead to a role played sex session? Yes

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s about 8 inches and is kind of girthy. And he has a few veins running along his cock. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive is in the middle. The only time it spikes is again, when he’s super stressed and misses you. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He falls asleep when you do. He wants to make sure that you’re comfortable. You always come first in his book. 

[cjsinkythoughts]

The Conversation

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 7661 (Don’t come at me - you guys asked for it)

Warnings: !FATWS Spoilers!, Cursing, Fluff, Feelings, I Dunno What Else, This One’s Pretty Chill, Except The Ending, But You’ll See When You Get There

A/N: Here it is! I was hesitant about posting it because that means we’re getting closer to the end and I’m such a nostalgic bitch! I’m definitely gonna cry next week when the last episode comes out! Anyways, I’ve got a few things to talk about:

I think this is one of the most important chapters I’ve written and I’m excited to see your reactions to it. It is longer, but you guys asked for that, so you got it! Also, I’m loving the Asks, Comments, and Reblogs. I try to respond to all of them. I have work in a little bit, so I won’t be able to until after, but I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Ask me anything; about my series, the show, any of the movies, personal stuff, I really don’t care. If you’re not comfortable, that’s totally fine! Every like means so much to me!

I know it’s not the end yet - we’ve got one more episode and a list of One Shots to get through - but there’s a definite feeling of this series coming to an end, and I just want to thank you all for the support and love you’ve been giving it! I’ve really enjoyed writing these characters and this story! It’s very, very special to me and I’m glad I’ve been able to share it with you lovely people!

On that note, be kind to yourselves and others! Thank you again for reading! Excuse any mistakes - this isn’t beta’d! Enjoy and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT! (Sorry for the gifs I just love them so much and he’s so pretty and this part is technically two parts so...you get four!)

“Louisiana.” Bucky hummed, looking around the airport.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re not gonna find anything interesting about Louisiana in here, doofus. Let’s call an Uber.”

“An Ooper? What the hell is an Ooper?”

You giggled, shaking your head and grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the luggage carousel. “Uber. It’s like…a taxi service. But there’s an app on your phone to get a driver instead of waiting for one on the street.”

“Oh.” He blinked, tilting his head. “That’s…helpful.”

You laughed again, stopping in front of Carousel 3, where your flight from New York was assigned. You went back to New York to grab a bag with clean clothes and other necessities, along with taking a real shower for once. It was nice to be back in the States, as much as you loved traveling. It’d been a crazy few weeks and you were ready to just relax.

“Do you think there were any problems with Sammy’s present?”

Bucky shook his head. “Nah. Especially considering they know who we are.”

You snickered at his slight grumble. They had had…problems at the other two airports - first the one in Sokovia then JFK in New York - considering Bucky’s entire arm was metal. It’d taken a full hour before they actually let you go, and by that time they had to give you a new plane because yours had left.

“Seriously. Who else has a fucking metal arm and has 1917 listed as their birth year on their Driver’s License?” You giggled again. That was also true. They thought he was messing with them. It wasn’t until you stepped in a few minutes after they asked Bucky to step to the side, seeing Bucky get frustrated, that they realized Bucky wasn’t pulling their legs.

“Well, we’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

He nodded in agreement, watching for your bags, his hand finding yours when he realized how many people there were. “Do you know where he lives? I didn’t even think about it.”

“Yeah, don’t worry. He invited me over once. I declined, but I saved the address.”

“He…invited you over?” Bucky frowned.

You gave him a look. “I’m sure he invited you, too. You just never checked his texts.”

He licked his lips, tilting his head. “Yeah, no, I know, but I mean…why didn’t you go? Weren’t you two just talking about how you wanted to meet his nephews the other day?”

“Yeah, but I had gotten a tip on Wanda at the time and I didn’t want to miss the chance that she was there. He told me it was fine. I still felt really bad. I could tell he was a bit disappointed. I think it was one of the boys’ birthdays. Or something. I don’t remember. Is that bad? Yeah, probably. I really should remember. Maybe I should keep track of birthdays on my calendar or something.”

“Doll.” You looked up to find him giving you a magnificent smile, teeth and all. “You’re rambling.”

“Oh. Am I? Sorry. I didn’t realize.”

He shook his head quickly, squeezing your hand. “Don’t apologize. It’s cute. I’m just not used to you talking so much. You kinda did on the phone sometimes.”

You shrugged, pushing down the heat crawling up your neck at his words. “I rambled a lot to Steve.”

“Oh.”

His face fell, making you scrunch your eyebrows up in confusion, nudging him slightly to grin at him. “It’s nice to have someone to ramble to again, though.” There was that smile again. You were stopped from saying anything more when you noticed some kids pointing and chattering excitedly at a gleaming silver box coming around the corner on the conveyor belt. “There it is.”

He looked over his shoulder, dropping your hand and stepping over to grab it, lifting it effortlessly. You didn’t know what was in it or how heavy it was, but you were sure it felt like a feather to him.

“Alright. Got our bag, sweetheart?” You lifted up the duffle in answer and he jerked his head towards the doors. “Let’s get outta here, then. Call that Booper or whatever.”

“U-B-E-R! Ub-er!” You threw your hands up, following him as he started walking towards the exit. “What’s so hard about it?!”

He just gave you a little smirk over his shoulder.

***************

Bucky kept asking the Uber driver questions about his job. The guy was super nice and patient the whole time, a thick southern accent lacing his answers. Southern hospitality was no joke and apparently had no limit as Bucky asked about his experiences, listening intently and telling him his own stories of taxi drivers in NYC.

When you got to Sam’s sister’s house, Bucky, being Bucky, tipped the driver half of what you paid for the ride, thanking him for his time and energy, before getting out.

“You’re so adorable, you know that?” You teased him as you stepped up the porch stairs and knocked on the door.

He rolled his eyes, a tint of pink dusting across his cheeks. “He was nice.”

You hummed at his defense, the smile never leaving your features. After a moment, Bucky raised his fist to knock again. “Jesus Christ! Don’t fucking knock their door down!” You grabbed his wrist and lowered it.

“Sorry. I forget sometimes.” Bucky informed you absentmindedly,  tilting his head to peek in the window. “I don’t think anyone’s home.”

“They’re probably at the docks, then.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “The docks?”

You nodded, gesturing for him to follow you. “Yeah. They have a boat, remember? He talked about it last week.”

“Oh right. The one he’s trying to convince his sister not to sell.”

“Yeah.” You confirmed. “I’m pretty sure it’s that way. I don’t know how far, but we can call the Uber back-”

Bucky scrunched up his face and shook his head. “Nah. I don’t wanna bother him again. We can walk.”

You gave him an incredulous look. “It’s literally his job to drive people around.”

“Well, yeah, but what if he’s got other people to drive?”

You lifted his metal knuckles to your lips. “Trust me, Buck, I’m sure he’d rather drive you than anyone else.”

“Thank you?”

Swinging your now linked hands, you gave a firm nod, letting him know it was, in fact, a compliment. “You are so very welcome.”

The walk was a lot longer than you thought it was, and you ended up on Bucky’s back after he kept complaining about how you “shouldn’t be walking this long” and you were “injured” and you “needed rest’”. You’re not sure how a shoulder wound affected your ability to walk, but you relented and let him carry you the rest of the way to stop his whining.

“You forget, you did pull your thigh.”

“That was, like, three weeks ago! Yeesh!”

You finally got to the docks, which were bustling with people. Bucky set you down and raised an eyebrow which you shrugged in reply to, before heading over to where you spotted Sam with a few other older men.

“How do we get it off the truck?” You heard Sam ask, pointing to a large boat engine part in the bed of a beaten up truck. Scoffing as Bucky lifted it up without breaking a sweat, you leaned against the truck. Bucky grunted and set it down, looking at Sam.

“You’re welcome.” What a punk. “Just dropping this off.” Bucky lifted the case and set it where the engine was previously, Sam coming to stand on the opposite side of the truck as you. “You can sign for it and I’ll go.” You snorted, shaking your head, making Bucky shove your shoulder - the uninjured one - playfully. “I called in a favor from the Wakandans.”

Sam looked at you curiously. You shrugged and shook your head. “Don’t look at me, Sammy. He wouldn’t tell me what it is. He’s all hushy hushy about it until you say so.”

Before Sam could reply, there was a squeak and hissing over at the boat where steam was coming from a few pipes.

“Sam!” You knew that was Sarah from pictures Sam showed you. You stayed up by the truck, pulling yourself onto the bed while Sam tried fixing the pipe, Bucky butting in to show him how to do it properly.

“Why didn’t you use the metal arm?”

You saw Bucky lift up said metallic limb. “Well…I don’t always think of it immediately. I’m-I’m right handed.” Letting out a laugh, Bucky turned around and scowled teasingly at you. “And what’re you laughing at?!”

“Nothing!”

“Well then get your ass over here!”

You rolled your eyes, hopping down from the truck as Bucky asked if Sam wanted help with the boat. You leaned against a wooden post, grinning when Sam looked at you.

“I don’t have any plans.”

Sam gave a small smile, jerking his head back. “Yeah.”

You jumped down onto the boat to follow him, looking over your shoulder and stopping with an amused eyebrow raised as Bucky introduced himself to Sarah. “I’m Bucky.”

“Ah…Sarah.”

“Sarah.” Bucky repeated her name, before walking towards you, a grin still on his lips.

“Careful, Barnes. That playboy Steve warned me about is coming out.” You nudged him with a smirk, ignoring the feeling of your stomach dropping.

He rolled his eyes, kissing your head as he passed you and Sam to go where Sam was gesturing. “Don’t worry, Y/N. You’re still my doll.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, falling into step besides you and lowering his voice. “Conversation?”

“Hasn’t happened.” You informed him through clenched teeth as he groaned.

Sam gave you a list of chores that needed to be done to clean up the boat, giving you a quick tour and letting you know where all the tools needed where. You set to work immediately.

Sanding down, replacing old parts, cleaning, polishing and painting over the things that didn’t need replacing. They didn’t let you do any heavy lifting because of your stupid shoulder, but you were still able to help.

Sam had turned on some music for you to listen to, so you danced around the boat while cleaning. Turning your head when you felt a pair of eyes on you, you smiled when Bucky snapped his head back down to the wood he was sanding down.

“Gonna dance, Barnes?”

He looked back over, shaking his head. “Nah. I’m good watching you.”

Rolling your eyes, you got back to work, continuing to bop to the music, fully aware that he was watching you now.

A little while later, you were repainting the edges of the boat orange, when you looked over and noticed Bucky playing around with a paint scraper…sitting right on the edge that you had just finished repainting a few minutes ago.

“Buck!”

He looked over, eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back your mischievous grin. Shaking your head, you waved dismissively. “Never mind!”

He gave you a confused sort of pout, before shrugging and continuing to fidget with the tool. It wasn’t until later when he got up to help Sam tear the metal plating off the edge that it came to light with Sam chuckling and raising an eyebrow.

“Sit in something there, Barnes?”

“What?”

Bucky craned his neck back, eyes widening when he saw the orange paint on his ass, contrasting with his jeans. You let out a cackle and he whipped towards you, pointing at you accusingly, although the small uptick of his lips let you know he wasn’t really mad.

“Y/N!”

“No, no, no!” You laughed, sprinting across the deck, shrieking when he grabbed your waist and spun you around. You gasped when he grabbed a paint brush and painted an orange stripe right down the front of your shirt. “James!”

“Justice, sweetheart.” He breathed in your ear with a chuckle.

You shook your head, wiggling out of his hold. “This is a nice shirt!”

“You should’ve thought about that before.” He smirked, crossing his arms. Your eyes caught sight of Sam behind him, who raised an eyebrow and the bucket of paint he was holding. You nodded with a little giggle, making Bucky’s eyes narrow. “What’s so funny over there, do - holy shit!

You guffawed as orange paint dripped down his head, Sam standing innocently behind him with the now empty bucket behind his back. “Samuel!”

“Oops?”

“I’m gonna kill you!”

“Try me old man!”

“Fuck!

“Doll!”

“Oh my God!”

Paint, orange and white since those were the only cans they had out, flew across the deck, paint brushes being used like fencing swords.

You found out too late that wet paint was a little bit slippery and you slid on a huge puddle, sending you, not onto the ground below, but over the side of the edge into the water. 

“Doll!”

“Cher, you good?!” 

The three of you looked at each other, stunned for a moment, before bursting into fits of laughter and you nodded. “I’m good!”

The boys helped you get back up onto the dock, Sarah appearing with towels she conjured up out of thin air. “Let’s get you into dry clothes. Do you have-?”

“We’ve got some. We got a bag.” You told her with a grin, facing the guys. “You two should clean up some, too. Sammy, you’ve got a little something right there.” You pointed to your cheek, his own having a giant white splotch from his temple to his jaw. “And Buck?” You sniggered, gesturing to the whole of him. “You’ve got a lotta something right there.” 

“Ha. Ha.” He looked down. His top was practically tiger print, drenched in orange with white here and there, and his ass still orange as well. His hair, which had been plastered to his forehead, was starting to dry now, and it only made you laugh some more thinking about what a pain it’d be to get it out. For him, at least.

“God. Can’t even have a relaxing day on the boat with you two.” Sam jested once you finished up and joined him and Bucky, who had just finished dumping out some water buckets. Bucky had changed his shirt and it looked like they tried wiping their faces, but Sam still had small lines of white down his face. “How ‘bout a couple of drinks? Surely you can’t ruin that too.”

“Ruin?” You gasped in mock offence. “Sammy! I just made the day more…interesting.”

Sam chuckled, ruffling Bucky’s hair, which still had orange streaks in it. “Let’s go get some beers.”

************

You chatted for a bit, mainly you and Sam with you asking how Sarah and the boys were while Bucky with your legs in his lap, just listening to you two and sipping at his bottle. You had his hand in your own lap, wiping it down with a rag due to the paint that got on it.

“You’re lucky this is vibranium, you know.” You commented off handedly. “If it was your other one, it’d definitely get stained.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Bucky shot back with a teasing grin.

“Sammy’s.”

Sam spluttered. “Wh-what?! You started it!” You laughed, shaking your head.

Falling into a comfortable silence with just the water and birds chirping as your soundtrack, you downed the rest of your drink, which Bucky took as finished. “Well,” you moved your legs to let him stand up. He leaned forwards to clink his bottle against Sam’s and you stood up and stretched. “Gotta catch our flight tomorrow. Get a hotel room for the night.” Sam gave you a look to which you rolled your eyes at as Bucky set down his bottle and grabbed his jacket. “Crash, you know?”

“So you’re just gonna set me up like that, huh?”

“Well I don’t wanna make it weird for your family.”

“Just stay here.” You laughed as Sam babbled on about how nice the people were here, grabbing the jacket Bucky handed to you. It was getting a bit chilly from the breeze on the water and the sun going down. Plus, that water was cold.

“But don’t flirt with my sister.”

You cackled at Bucky’s face, that turned serious, his head shaking. “No.”

“‘Cause if you do I’ll have Carlos cut you up and feed you to the fish.”

“Can’t hold back the dog, Wilson. It’s been stuck in a kennel too long.”

Bucky turned to you, grabbing your jaw and squishing your cheeks together. “You know what? You need to shush. You’ve been snippy all day.”

You just smiled as innocently as you could with your lips being held by his metal fingers. “You’re too fun to mess with.”

He pecked your nose. “As long as I’m the only one you’re messing with. I’ll be right back.” He let you go and spun around, maneuvering around the boat in a way only a trained assassin could do.

“Oh my God, please! Please just put me out of my fucking misery! You’re killing me, cher.”

“What?” You gaped at him.

“Don’t act innocent!” Sam huffed, giving you a pointed look. “If I have to watch you two make googly eyes at you one more fucking day with neither of you doing anything about it-”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh come on, Sammy-”

“Don’t ‘come on, Sammy’ me! And don’t come at me with that ‘he doesn’t like me back’ bullshit. If you think for a second that boy wouldn’t follow you to the depths of the fucking ocean, you’re blind as a bat, woman.”

You shrugged, pushing up the sleeves of Bucky’s too big jacket. “It just…hasn’t come up.”

He deadpanned, shaking his head and standing up. “That’s it. I’m done. You two are driving me insane. I’m gonna lock you in a room until you have the conversation that needs to be had the next time either of you does something stupid.”

“Yikes. That’s gonna be quick.” At his look, your smile dropped and you nodded. “Okay, okay. I’ll…I’ll bring it up later.”

“Tomorrow or nothing.”

“Sam-”

Sam tilted his head, brow creasing. “Is it still Steve? Is that what this is still about? Because he’s gone, and he’s been gone and you need to get over it-”

“No. It’s not…” You sighed. “It clicked the other day. When we were hanging out. Steve left and, yeah, I might always love him, but Bucky…God…I love Bucky, Sam.”

The man grinned proudly. “I’m glad to finally hear you admit it. So what’s the problem?”

“It’s still complicated, right? I mean…he’s his best friend and I’ve never dealt with stuff like this before and-”

Sam’s smile dropped and he groaned again. “Imma head out. I can’t take this. Dumbass and dumberass. I swear to God.” You sniggered a bit as he grumbled, walking towards the ramp to climb off the boat, just as Bucky reappeared.

“Hey-”

“Nope! Not right now, Barnes! I can’t handle it! I can’t!”

Bucky gave you a weird look. “What’d you do?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Nothing.”

“Well, c’mon, doll. Sarah said she’s gonna make gumbo for us, whatever that is.” He held out his hand as you walked over. 

“You’re such a city boy.” You teased lightly, taking his hand and letting him help you pull you onto the dock. You shoved the sleeves of his jackets up again since they slipped from the first time. “Let’s go get some dinner. I’m starving.”

******************

“We have the couch and a mattress we can pull out, I just have to make Sam get it from the attic-”

“That’s alright. The couch is fine.” Bucky waved dismissively while you nodded in agreement.

Sarah raised an eyebrow at you two. “For both of you?”

You blinked, exchanging a look with Bucky, before shrugging and turning back to her. “Yeah.”

“Don’t fight it, Sarah.” Sam peeked out from the hall. “They’ve got a weird relationship.” You stuck your tongue out at the man while Bucky rolled his eyes, dropping your duffle bag by the couch. “How mature, Y/N.” Sam mimicked your action.

“Uhm…okay. Let me set up the couch for you then.”

Once everything was set up, you and Bucky thanking her for dinner - delicious and you’d never seen Bucky smile so much, the boys having kept him highly entertained throughout the meal - and for letting you crash, Sam and Sarah headed to their rooms, the boys already having been tucked in for the night.

“Are you gonna sleep on the floor?” You asked quietly, sitting down on the couch and doing the things for your night routine you didn’t already do in the bathroom.

“I think I’ll be okay.” He sat besides you. “I’ve been doing fine the past week or so.”

You smiled at him. “That’s good. Alright.” You stood up and stretched. “Let me just make sure everything’s in the bag and ready-”

You yelped when his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his chest, shifting down to lay against the couch’s arm. “Do it in the morning.” He yawned, looking up at you tiredly. “I wanna go to sleep.”

“Then go to sleep, Buck. I’ll be right back.” He shook his head, his hold tightening as he sunk deeper into the couch.

“No. I fall asleep better with you.”

You rolled your eyes but grinned, settling down with your legs between his, your chin resting on his sternum so you could still look at him. He beamed, but you could see the exhaustion settling in, and he grabbed the blanket Sarah left over the back of the couch and draped it across your back, over both of your legs, before his arms crossed snugly under the covers at the small of your back.

“Dinner was nice tonight. I haven’t had a meal cooked like that in ages.” You hummed.

He nodded in agreement. “I think that’s the first time I’ve sat around a table with a family since the 40′s.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Did you like it?”

“Yeah...kinda makes me wish I had my own.”

“Your own what?”

“Family.”

You bit your lip, shyly avoiding his gaze. “You’re my family, Buck.”

A light kiss was pressed to your forehead, his fingers bringing your gaze back to his. “There’s no one else I’d rather have.” The room lapsed into silence again, the clock ticking on the wall, the low sound of crickets outside.

“You have really pretty eyes.” You mumbled, tilting your head slightly as you studied them. They always held so much emotion in them, especially in contrast to when you first met him as Soldat. They matched the water you fell in, and you wouldn’t mind falling over and over into them.

“Yeah, well, you’re just really pretty inside and out, so I think you’ve got me beat, doll.” He whispered back.

“You know who else is pretty? Sarah.”

He nodded with a hum. “That’s true. But I meant what I said. You’ll always be my doll.”

“So you’re not gonna ask her out?”

He gave you a weird look as you traced his sharp jawline absentmindedly. “Nah, sweetheart. It’s just…some harmless flirting. Except on Sam’s part.”

You gave a soft huff of laughter. “Yeah…he’s gonna strangle you. It is nice to see you like that, though. Flirty. Relaxed. Happy.”

“You make me happy, sweetheart.” He hummed, nosing your temple. “The road trip helped. I’m learning everything from you. Maybe not the flirting, but the carefree part.”

You blinked at him, finger stopping for a moment as you thought. “Oh…”

You felt his fingers dance up your spine, making you shiver slightly. “What I would give to know what’s goin’ on inside that pretty lil’ head’a yours, doll.”

“I just think it’s funny you’re learning how to be carefree from me…when I just started learning how to do it myself.”

“Oh yeah?”

You nodded, your finger continuing its path down his jaw. “I think it started with the goats.”

“The goats?”

You nodded again, resting your cheek on his chest, watching your finger move up from his chin. Once you got to the end of his jaw, you lightly scratched his scruff. “In Wakanda. Our goats.” You weren’t looking at him, so you didn’t see the way he physically melted at your words, his eyes going soft, his lips turning up slightly.

“Our goats, huh?”

But your tired brain wasn’t really processing what he said, instead focusing on the features your finger was now tracing - over his lips, up his nose. “You’re pretty too, Buck. Did you know that? Inside and out.”

He craned his neck to kiss your forehead. “Go to sleep, cuddle bug.”

Nodding, you nuzzled into his chest, finger feeling over the bumps and indents on the dog tags resting near your head. You tried going to sleep, but you kept shifting, your mind not shutting off.

“Hey, sleepyhead, I’m trying to, you know, sleep.”

“Sorry.” You apologized meekly. “I just…I dunno. I can’t.”

“Are you comfortable?” He peeked open and eye to look at you questioningly. You nodded. “Is it too hot? We can take the blanket off. I know I’m a walking furnace-”

You shook your head. “No. I don’t know why. I just can’t sleep.”

He licked his lips thoughtfully, before cradling your head and guiding you back down to his chest. “Lay down, sweetheart. Relax.” He stroked your hair, moving his head down to rub circles in your back muscles, pressing down harder when he felt knots. 

You hummed, your eyes closing. “That feels good.”

“Shshsh. Just go to sleep.” His lips pressed against your head once more, lingering a bit longer than they usually do, as you felt yourself drift off. You cuddled his side, throwing a leg over his waist, before nodding off, only barely hearing his words. “Attagirl. There we are.”

******************

“Doll?” You felt a shift underneath you and groaned, your eyes barely cracking open. “Hey, sleepyhead…it’s okay. I’m just gonna slip out from under ya, alright? Gonna go help Sammy with somethin’.”

You raised an eyebrow, letting him move you against the cushions as he sat up on the edge of the couch. “Sammy?”

“Yeah.” He bent over and kissed your cheek. You stretched out your limbs, about to rub your eyes, when he stopped you, kissing the inside of your wrists. “No. Not you, doll. Go back to sleep.” 

“Bu’...’m gonna help.” You slurred out, looking at him with confused, squinty eyes.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s okay. Rest. You can help when you wake up again. Okay?” You mumbled out an “okay”, bringing the covers up to your chin and snuggling deeper into the cushions. “There ya go, cuddle bug. Good girl.” There was another kiss, one to your temple this time, before you slipped back into unconsciousness.

******************

The next time you woke up was because of a clatter in the kitchen. You yawned and sat up, stretching, eyebrows furrowing when you realized Bucky wasn’t with you. It took you a moment to remember your conversation, which you half thought you dreamt.

“Boys!”

“Sorry!”

You chuckled at the shouts, rubbing your eyes. “I am so sorry!” Sarah apologized, looking over at you from the stove. Trying to make the boys breakfast before school. Do you want anything? Eggs? Cereal? Toast?”

“Uh, cereal’s fine.” You stretched out your back again, before throwing back the covers and standing up, a little shakily.

“You wouldn’t happen to know where Sam went, would you?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Uh, I think him and Bucky went to fix something on the boat. I don’t for sure, though.”

Sarah groaned. “He probably went to fix the stupid water pump which doens’t need fixing. Dumbass.”

You chuckled, padding over into the kitchen. “Yeah. I just work with him. I can’t imagine growing up with him.”

“Trust me; some days you want to throw him in a box and send him out to sea. Bowls are in that cupboard.”

You snickered, moving over to grab a bowl from the cupboard she pointed to. “That’s how I feel with Bucky. Sam is less often, but when those two get together…it’s a full zoo.”

She laughed at that, nodding as she got out the milk and a few boxes of cereal for you to choose from, handing you a spoon. “That I believe.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

You started pouring your cereal, watching in slight amusement as she got the boys ready for school. “Bus is here! Get out the door! Bye! Love you! Make sure you take those extra lunches to-!”

“Yeah, mom! We know! Love you too!”

You gave a slight smirk as she huffed, looking around the kitchen at the pans and dishes left out. “Kids, huh?”

She gave you a smile. “Yeah. They’re a handful, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything. How about you? Any thoughts of kids?”

“Me?” Your eyes widened, nearly choking on your food. “Oh God no. Not right now, at least. I don’t even have a solid house right now. My life’s too off the walls for that.”

“And Bucky?”

You raised an eyebrow as she leaned on the counter. “Bucky? What about Bucky?”

“Does he want kids?”

“Uh…I dunno.” You shrugged, clearing your throat as you remembered your talk last night. “Kinda makes me wish I had my own.” You quickly pushed his words aside. “He hasn’t told me.”

“Wait, wait. You two…aren’t together then?”

You blinked, your eyes widening again. “Together? Me and Bucky? No…why? Did Sam say something?”

Her expression morphed into one of disbelief, crossing her arms. “Sam didn’t say anything. You guys did. Are you seriously expecting me to believe you aren’t together?”

“We’re not! I mean - he was flirting with you yesterday-”

“Right, okay. Honey, that’s flirting. And it’s harmless. The way he follows you like a puppy and you look at him like he hung the stars? That’s feelings. And that’s a lot more impactful than flirting.”

You frowned in contemplation. It was really that obvious? You were really that blind? This whole time? You knew Sam knew - but you just figured that’s because he’s been there since it started. And Sharon knew for the same reason. But Sarah? The woman you just met the day prior and had barely had a conversation with?

“It’s, uh…” You chewed on your cheek, swirling your cereal around. “It’s complicated.”

Sarah didn’t look impressed. “Do you like him?”

“I’m kinda in love with him-”

She shrugged, not letting you finish your bashful statement. “Then I don’t see what’s complicated about it.”

And that was that. She turned to clean up breakfast, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You thought it was more complicated than that. I mean…you were in love with your best friend. Who left you. With the guy you had feelings for who just so happened to be your best friend/crush’s best friend. And now you were completely in love with your best friend’s best friend, but your best friend still had a piece of your heart.

But…you loved Bucky. And he was here. And Steve was not. And when you put it that way…you guess it wasn’t so complicated after all.

******************

You snickered as you walked up behind Sarah, the woman berating the men for not leaving the water pump along like she asked.

“Hi, Sarah.”

Sam shot Bucky a warning look, who grinned, but you were surprised to see Sarah ignore him, sending you a knowing glance instead, before turning back to Sam. “I told you specifically that the water pump was not the problem, and yet, here you are.”

“Yep, Samuel.”

You chuckled, Bucky shooting you a wink. “Yeah, Samuel.”

Sam narrowed his eyes at you, turning to Sarah. “In our defense, you were supposed to be done long before you woke up.”

You nearly facepalmed at his “defensive” and you were trying so hard to hold back laughing as she told Sam off, sending them away.

“I don’t wanna hear a peep from you.” Sam pointed at you, but that only made your chortles come out, and you didn’t even bother hiding them. “She’s a very mean person.”

“It’s tough love.”

You giggled as they started arguing, slipping an arm around their waists, their arms instinctually coming up to your shoulders.

“Oh my God. A prowess?”

“Yes, Y/N. A prowess.”

“You know, maybe if you someone let me help-”

“Hey, woah! You were tired! I let you sleep! I was being nice!”

“Too late now. I’ll be lucky if Sarah lets me within a hundred feet of it!”

“She got you so good, Sammy!”

“I agree with Buck for once! You’re too snippy right now! And c’mon man! Stop flirting with my sister!”

“It’s my natural charm.”

“Charm? What charm?”

“Ouch, doll! That one hurt!”

****************

“Okay.” You stepped out of the bathroom, walking over to the couch and setting the bag down on it. “I’ve got everything packed. We’ve got a little over an hour until we need to head out which gives you two time to go set something up for Sammy and maybe even a bit or training before we leave.” 

Bucky frowned. “You’re not gonna come out?”

“I will in a bit. I just got a phone call I need to take.”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “Government call?”

You gave a mocking smile. “Can you guess what they want to talk about? It’s okay. I’ll survive. It’s only a phone call, so I can always hang up. Pretend I didn’t have good service. I do it all the time.”

“I’m sure you do.” Sam chuckled. “In that case, I’m gonna go grab some stuff and get the shield.” As he walked out, he made sure to mouth at you behind Bucky’s back ‘conversation’ making you swallow thickly. You were planning on talking to Bucky anyways, and with Sam’s insistence…

“Okay, so, I was thinking when we get back-”

“Can I talk to you?”

Bucky stopped digging through the bag, blinking at you in surprise at your sudden burst. “Uh…well, we already are, so yes.” He chuckled, straightening and crossing his arms.

“I wanna have the conversation.”

He was left stunned, once again, his mouth opening and closing and his weight shifting form one foot to the other. “Like…that conversation? R-right now? Are you sure?”

You winced at her nervousness. “Sorry, sorry. I know it’s kinda…I just…I need to talk about it. Now.”

“Okay, okay. No, that’s fine. Don’t apologize. I just wasn’t expecting it.” Bucky cleared his throat. “That’s all.”

“Okay…” You breathed with a small nod. You opened your mouth, but Bucky shook his head.

“I hafta say this first; I didn’t mean to hurt you by telling you about Steve. I-I dunno what I thought. That it’d give you closure or something. I dunno. But it hurt you and I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention.”

“Buck-”

“I was jealous. And guilty. And mad. And upset. I still am. Kinda. I guess. I dunno.” Bucky shook his head, running his hand through his hair and all you could do was gape at him as he started confessing to you. “Remember when we danced? In Madripoor? Doll…I don’t wanna dance ever again if it’s not with you. I fucking love you, Y/N. And not in the way we’ve said it before. I’m in love with you. I have been for-for a while now. I just - you were Steve’s. Steve loved you and you loved Steve and that was that and I was just the broken childhood best friend. But Steve left and he told me to take care of you and I didn’t know what to do with that, because you still love Steve. I think. I dunno. And I didn’t want to break what we have because you’re all I have left of him. You and that stupid shield. You’re my family. My home. I really meant it when I told you that. And that’s why I couldn’t tell you. Because it means too much for me to break what we have because I fell in love with my best friend’s girl. You know?”

He looked at you with pleading eyes, begging you to understand, but your brain was still trying to process what he was telling you.

“Oh God…” He groaned. “And now I just told you everything and you’re looking at me like that wasn’t what you wanted to hear and now I’m thinking this wasn’t the conversation you were thinking it was going to be-”

You were moving across the room before you could stop yourself, pulling him by the teal Henley you knew was comfortable having worn it to bed before when you visited him in New York, and slanting your lips over his.

His breathing hitched and he froze, and for a hot second you thought you made everything worse, but then he was kissing you back and his hands were on your hips and he was pulling you closer and it felt so fucking good you didn’t want to pull back for air.

“Shut up.” You muttered when you finally did pull back, your forehead against his, your eyes clenched shut. “Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up.” You pulled back to look up at him, chests heaving against each other, your eyes prickling. “I’m not good at this. I’m not good at opening up. I only ever was good at it with Steve but Bucky…I’ve been doing it with you. This whole time and I didn’t even realize it until the conversation in the car.”

He reached up to cup your cheeks, wiping away the relieved tears that were falling from the weight you were finally getting off your chest.

“I love you. I’m in love with you. How could I not be? After all that time in Wakanda? I was never Steve’s girl, Bucky. I wanted to be. Dammit, did I wanna be, but I wasn’t. Not really. And he’s gone. But you’re not. And I don’t know why it took me so long to see that. That you’re the one in front of me. You’re the one who held me when I needed it once he left. You’re the one that would listen to my rambles that I’m just realizing was most of our phone calls. You’re not just the broken childhood friend. Don’t ever think that. I don’t pick up the phone at five in the morning after searching for a friend until two for just anyone. Even Steve’s best friend. And I’m such an idiot because I’ve been pushing away my feelings all these years for Steve and then I let them out with you at the wrong time, because I love Steve, Bucky, but I’m not in love with him. Not since I fell in love with you. And I know it doesn’t make sense, but Steve was the first one I cared about and that’s just how I feel and I can try to explain, but-”

His lips crashed onto yours again and you could taste the salty tears that were pouring down your cheeks, but you didn’t care. He was holding you and he was kissing you and it was even more perfect than you thought it’d be.

“You’re adorable when you ramble, but Jesus Christ, shuddup, doll.” He breathed. “Just tell me you love me. Tell me you love me just a fraction of how much I love you.”

You looked up into those ocean eyes, your own shining with earnest affection. “James Buchanan Barnes. I love you.”

“That’s all I need to know.” He murmured against your lips, holding your head against his, still wiping away your tears. It felt like with each one that fell, you felt lighter and lighter. Like they were taking away every fear and anxiety you held within you for the past six months.

“Alright! I was thinking we could just set up in these trees out here - holy shit! Is it done? Did you do it? Did I miss it? Has the conversation been had?”

Bucky chuckled as you giggled. “He has the worst timing.” The last two words were loud enough so Sam could hear, although the man heard the whole sentence. 

“I’m gonna take that as a yes!” Sam cheered. “Halle-fucking-lujah! Finally! I was that close to locking you two in the attic.”

You shook your head at Sam’s personal celebration, drowning the rest of his words out as you looked at Bucky, who swept his thumb over your cheek catching one last tear, before pecking your lips.

“I finally get to kiss where I really want to.” He spoke softly, kissing your lips again. “Are you mine, doll?”

“I thought you said I’d always be your doll.” You answered cheekily. He grinned, kissing you again, pulling you against him by the hips.

“Okay, okay! That’s enough! We get it! You’re in love, finally, but I don’t wanna see it anymore! Now will you come help me with this shit?”

Bucky left one more lingering kiss on your lips, before you pushed him away reluctantly. “I’ll be right out.”

He nodded, moving over to help Sam carry the things he’d gathered.

You watched them put it all up from the window, gnawing on your cheek as you spun your phone in your hands. Coming to a decision, you tossed your phone in the duffle bag and walked out with it just as the boys finished.

“That was a quick phone call.” Sam raised an eyebrow.

You shrugged. “Didn’t call them. If they really need me, they’ll find me.”

Bucky grinned as you set the bag down under a tree, pecking your lips when you got close enough for him to grab by the waist to hold you against him. You rolled your eyes, shoving him playfully away and giggling as Sam let out a groan.

“Alright. Let’s see what you’ve got, Sammy.”

~

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

Bucky knew he needed the tough love talk Sam was giving him. He needed to hear it. Because, deep down, he had known it all along, he just refused to believe it. He tried doing it. Making amends. He knew he wasn’t though. And of course he knew immediately who that one person would be.

“And hey.” Bucky looked at him. “Let me tell you what. Telling my girl all that you told her? That’s a good start. I’m proud of you. Both of you. You’re already happier. I can see it in your eyes.”

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head as he thought of the gorgeous woman he nearly let slip through his fingers. He looked over to the house, where she was inside somewhere getting ready after suddenly deciding she needed to shower before they left. “I was stupid.”

“Yeah you were. You both were. I’m so relieved it’s over.” Sam nudged him. “Treat her right, Buck. She deserves it.”

“I know…I just hope I can.”

Sam shook his head. “Uh-uh. Don’t do that. You were just starting to use that cyborg brain of yours! She chose you. And before you say anything,” Sam cut Bucky off from speaking as he opened his mouth to object. “She chose you before Steve left. It just took her dumbass this long to realize it.”

Bucky nodded, a small smile on his face. “Yeah…okay…” Before he could say anything, the goddess herself stepped out, jogging over, looking absolutely amazing in her jeans and his t-shirt. “Good talk.”

Sam laughed at his quick ending of the conversation as she came up besides them. “Talking about me?” She asked cheekily, eyes shining. Bucky couldn’t help but take her under his arm, pecking her lips. Now that he could, he didn’t think he could stop. He was addicted to say the least.

Throwing Bucky a wink, Sam shrugged. “Just all the things that get on our nerves.”

“Ha ha.” She rolled her eyes. “We better get going.”

Bucky and Sam clapped hands. “You know Karli won’t quit.”

Bucky smiled. “Ah. You call us when you have a lead and we’ll be there.”

Y/N stepped forwards to give Sam a hug. “Anytime, Sammy.”

“Eh. Anytime between noon and midnight.” Bucky corrected. “Or noon and ten. Noon and five…you better just call at noon to be safe.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Sure, sure.”

“Not necessarily as a team.” Bucky continued, grabbing the bag, getting Y/N back in her spot at his side under his arm.

“Nope!”

“We’re not that good.”

“Definitely not.”

“We’re professionals.”

“Definitely.”

“And, uh, we’re partners.”

Sam snapped, pointing at him. “Coworkers.”

“But we’re also a couple of guys with a couple mutual friends.”

“Ones now gone and you’re dating the other.”

“So we’re a couple of guys…with a badass to help out.”

“I can live with that.”

“Perfect.”

“Oh my God.” Y/N let out that laugh Bucky could never get enough of, shaking her head at the two of them. “You forgot dumbasses.”

Sam shook his head. “Nuh-uh. That’s your couple name.”

“Dumbasses?”

“Oh yeah.” The three of them came to a stop, Bucky and his girl - God he loved confirming it now - facing Sam. “Thanks for the help, guys. Meant a lot.”

Bucky patted his shoulder. “Of course.”

Y/N shot him a wink. “Until we meet again, Sammy.”

“Until then, cher.”

Bucky couldn’t stop his grin as she wrapped her arms around his waist, the two of them starting to walk to the main road where she already ordered an Uber. He looked down at her, kissing her lips for the nth time in the past hour.

“I wish I didn’t wait so long,” he told her seriously. “But I’d wait a thousands more centuries if it meant I get to call you mine.”

She giggled, shaking her head. “You’re such a sap! But…” she moved up to kiss him and his heart stuttered. He knew he had a goofy grin on when she pulled back, but he couldn’t help it. Especially when she laughed again. “I have to agree with you on that, Buckaroo.”

[melina-ya]

What they’re like as boyfriends;

Characters; Seishu ‘Inupi’ Inui, Hajime Kokonoi.

Warnings; a bit angsty.

Seishu ‘Inupi’ Inui;

Don’t you dare hurt this man’s feelings. I’ll be coming for ur neck.

You better treat him right, because he would go to the ends of the world for you.

He doesn’t want to lose another person in his life so he’ll always show you how much he values you and how much you mean to him.

It can be hard for him to find the right words sometime, that doesn’t stop him from showing you little acts of service and physical affection to make you feel loved.

Wants you to feel comfortable around him, at all times.

Is in general a very considerate person, but especially when it comes to your feelings. So you will never witness him trying to down play your emotions.

He is in touch with his feminine side and holds absolutely no place for toxic masculinity in his life.

I fr want his fashion advise.

Would never judge you for anything. Especially not for your body. He loves your body.

Beats up everyone who dares to talk bad about you. Can’t stand people who only have the courage to talk shit about you someone behind their back.

Loves laying on your chest. He says it’s more comfortable than a pillow, but actually just listens to your heart beat.

If you two were together while he was still in black dragons, he’d make you be besties with Koko.

Koko’s approval of your relationship is important to him. They’ve been there for each other for a very long time now an he really wants Koko to like you and you two actually get a long great.

After Tenjiku arc he’d have some kind of complex about you thinking of him as something/ someone he isn’t is.

Doesn’t want you to leave like Koko did. He isn’t Akane, you have to assure him you know that. You also don’t expect him to be, which takes time for him to understand.

When a insecurity or a issue pops up he isn’t too shy to talk about it, that’s why problems in your relationship never last that long.

He’s very mature, but knows when to let loose and also be childish for once.

He’s such a cutie.

Hajime Kokonoi;

This man-

Treats you like a princess. Like u deserve.

Spoils you so bad. You’re literally swimming in designers bags and clothes.

Does not care how many times you decline his gifts, you will accept them. Period.

In the end you always give in anyways. I mean why wouldn’t you lmao.

Let’s you do his makeup and even goes out with it on if it looks good. The healthy masculinity is immaculately.

When you want to try out a new makeup look on him and it doesn’t end up the way you wanted it to, he’ll tease you a bit, but would encourage you to try again and again until you get it.

He’s very patient, so just take your time and don’t stress. He knows you can do it.

Always believes in you and supports you. Is your personal cheerleader.

You know how Aang looks at Katara? Yeah that’s how he looks at you.

After Akane it was hard for him to fall in love again.

When you to met it took him a lot of thinking and time. But he did it, he moved on from her.

Don’t get me wrong she will always hold a special place in his heart as his first love, now nothing more or less.

Sometimes tho, in the itsy bitsiest moments you remind him of her. Even if it���s just for a second, he’ll feel so bad.

After sometime he’ll find the courage to talk to you about it. You’ll literally have to beat it out of him. When he admits it you just look at him as if he’s dumb, ‘they’re just intrusive thoughts, it’s not your fault. It’s okay.’

And since he moved on it’s most likely that you only got together later on, where he was already part of the Kanto Manji gang.

Meeting Mikey and the rest of the gang was an experience for sure. Even more so if it was after the fight of the three deities. Sometimes you question if he’s in a relationship with you or them, considering how much time he spends with them.

a/n; is it obvious that inupi is one of my favs lmao? Anyways I had a lot of fun writing this and thank you for reading.

[crazygalore]

GABRIEL MAY (MALIGNANT) NSFW ALPHABET

TW: mentions of dysmorphia, NSFW

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Surprisingly, Gabriel actually NEEDS it, after each lovemaking session - no matter how gentle or how rough he was with you. He’ll draw the both of you a hot bath, and help you wash yourself. If you return the favour, this boy will positively melt, and let out tiny noises that sound suspiciously similar to little purrs. Afterwards, once he has patted your dry with a fluffy towel and dressed you in your favourite pyjamas, Gabriel will carry you to bed, and place you under the covers. Then, he will bring your favourite snacks and beverage, to enjoy while you huddle together to watch a movie before falling asleep.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Gabriel could never pick just one thing he loves about you - because he practically worships you body and soul. You are infinitely beautiful in his eyes, and the fact that you love and accept him for who he is feels like a miracle to him.

Since he doesn’t actually have a body of his own, he expresses his identity though clothes that he wears, which are different than the ones owned by Madison. Although they’re not body parts per say, he sees his leather coat and makeshift gold dagger as extensions of himself, and he enjoys donning them whenever he takes over his twin’s body. He will, sometimes, remain fully clothed during sex.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

His pleasure is your pleasure, and he will make you cum as much as possible, if only to enjoy your desperate moans and whimpers. 

Being transmasc and trapped his Madison’s body, he suffers from severe dysmorphia and doesn’t really enjoy being touched intimately. And, as stated HERE, he did communicate with his sister when the two of you decided to become intimate, because he felt like this specific situation called for his sister’s consent. She doesn’t have access to his memories regarding his sex life, though - which is for the best.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It’s not a secret that he loves watching you pleasure yourself. The first time he witnessed it, you weren’t aware he was there, lost as you were in the act, so he quietly enjoyed the show from the door, a smug smirk playing at the corners of his mangled mouth.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

You are Gabriel’s first and only love, and the only person who ever saw him as a human being, worth of respect and adoration. So he doesn’t have that much experience, but he did his research and tried to learn as much as possible about the human body’s erogenous spots. That makes up for his lack of actual physical experience, at least most of the times. But since your guys’ relationship is based on trust, respect and communication, Gabriel is never ashamed to ask what works for you, and what doesn’t.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Missionary, since he usually uses his mouth, fingers or a strap-on to pleasure you - and he wants to be able to look at your face, kiss your lips and hold you in his arms during sex. Gabriel is a very tactile person, and extremely touch-starved, so he actually NEEDS to be held, caressed and comforted. It’s the main reason why he enjoys making love to you so much, because the physical intimacy is something he’d never experienced before.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

I wouldn’t say he’s particularly goofy, but he isn’t very stoic either. If anything awkward ensures during sex, he will try to make you laugh about it, so that you can relax and move on.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He doesn’t actually have a private area of his own, and its pretty much Madison’s business as to how she grooms her nether region. He doesn’t actually care about those parts, since he never uses them.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Very intimate, very romantic and very needy. As stated above, he craves physical contact, and he melts whenever you treat him with gentleness and affection. Hold him, kiss him, caress his scarred cheeks, and tell him how good he makes you feel, and Gabriel will be putty in your hands.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He doesn’t actually partake in this act, as he doesn’t enjoy looking at, or touching the private parts of the body he shares with his sister. But sometimes, he fantasizes about what he would do to you, if he had a body of his own.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Gabriel is surprisingly vanilla, but he can be pretty dominant in the bedroom. He will pin your wrists above your head, as he fucks you into the mattress, or guide you into touching yourself, his voice a mere growl coming from your phone’s speaker. Knife kink, maybe, but only when it comes to cutting off your clothes. He doesn’t wanna hurt you, so unless you insistently ask him to, Gabriel won’t hold his makeshift dagger to your throat, or drag its blade across your skin. After all, he has other ways to let out his violent frustrations, so he feels no need to bring that to the bedroom. He was hurt by people who abhorred him, and he returned the favour years later. Love and violence do not cross paths in Gabriel’s mind.

Also clothed sex, because he enjoys wearing his leather coat and gloves, as he teases your naked body mercilessly.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Anywhere inside the house, but the bedroom is his favourite, because it’s more private and safe. Plus, he enjoys taking his time, so the bed is the most comfortable option when it comes to lengthy lovemaking sessions.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Whenever you treat Gabriel with kindness and love, he will feel the need to bring you pleasure, and show you just how much he covets you. For him, sex is a means of expressing his affection for you - it’s an act of adoration and gratitude.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He will NOT hurt you, ever, no matter how much you insist. You are the only person who has ever treated him right, and he cannot bear the thought of harming you in any way.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Enjoys giving, and is very enthusiastic about it. This boy will eat you out for hours, and has become fucking expert at it. He knows just how to angle his face, and use his teeth and tongue to cause you maximum pleasure. Your taste is heaven to him, and your needy moans and whimpers are music to his ears. He will edge you, he will overstimulate you, he will play your body like a violin, using his mouth and fingers alone.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on the mood. Slow and sensual is his go to, but he can be rough if you ask him to. But regardless of the pace, Gabriel is ALWAYS very passionate, and completely dedicated to your pleasure. Also, this boy is inhumanly strong, so he may end up becoming rough without even realizing it - but in case it becomes too much, all you have to do is tell him, and Gabriel will apologise and treat you more gently.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Not opposed to them, but he prefers taking his time.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He’s willing to try anything, so long as it doesn’t cause you any actual harm. Hickeys and faint finger-shaped bruises happen a lot, since he doesn’t always calibrate his strength properly all the time.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Oh, he could go on forever. Remember he experiences pleasure exclusively through you, so he never gets tired of it.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Oh, yes, 100% a fan of toys, all of them meant to drive you utterly insane with pleasure.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

The most unfair and maddeningly patient tease to ever walk this Earth. He will edge you until you’re crying and begging for release - and only then will he CONSIDER to maybe let you cum.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Low growls and muffled moans are the best he can do - although he may use your phone’s speaker to talk dirty to you.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Gabriel really enjoys sucking on and playing with your nipples. And, yes, he has actually made you cum by solely teasing and fondling your chest.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

As I said, he uses a strap-on, which is just the right length and thickness to bring you maximum pleasure. In fact, the more I think about it, the more inclined I am to believe he consulted with you before buying it.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

I would say his sex drive is medium to low, so unless you initiate it - case in which he will be delighted to take you to the bedroom - he will rarely bring it up. But he does have his moments, when he simply craves your passionate embrace.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It depends. Sometimes he falls asleep as soon as aftercare has been performed, and sometimes he stays awake a little while longer, just to watch you sleep peacefully by his side.

[1kook]

ZOOM CALL

⇢ meeting two

jeon jungkook x (f) reader

⇢ series masterlist

summary: Most notably, there’s one group project waiting for you, which leads you to Friday. Sitting at your desk, bright and early, absolutely dreading being assigned to your group. genre: fluff, slice of life, smut (tags tba) warnings: ITS A SLOW BURN OKAY...., sweetheart jk, campus crush jk, college crushes, social distancing, zoom -_-, jk owns a keroppi plush, oc thirsts over his hot bod, jk’s sweet attempts at flirting </3 he’s just 2 cute for his own good ratings: e for everyone <3 wc: 3.7k

notes: this took long bc i wrote one version but it was SO LAME u guys r lucky my friend and editor ( @kigurumu​ 🖤 ) stopped me from posting it. so then i had to reorganize my thoughts n b like girl. the ppl are waiting. get it together. anyway here’s zoom jk 😎

Being grouped with Jeon Jungkook (he/him) for your first class on the first day of your first Zoom semester truly sets the standard.

By no means do your other classes suck; they’re quite enjoyable, more relevant to your area of study. They’re familiar which makes them comfortable, your Zoom meetings filled with faces you’ve seen time and time again the last four years. The material interests you, so you definitely don’t have anything against them or your classmates. 

That being said, no one is prepared for the awkwardness that comes with each and every Zoom meeting. You never thought you’d be embarrassed to turn your mic on— to speak in a class filled with your peers. And the meetings are all like that, filled with uncomfortable silences and endless black screens. 

You wish there was a Jeon Jungkook (he/him) in every class. 

Jungkook’s just got this bubbly aura to him, this magnetic presence that staples itself into the back of your mind with each passing day. No one fills a Zoom call like he does, making every person laugh and smile like him. 

Wednesday rolls around and you find yourself a little disheartened when you don’t get sorted into the same randomized group as him again. Disappointment melts into annoyance when you find out how incompetent your other classmates are, refusing to speak in the small group or just completely clocking out all together. A lot of them didn’t do the reading— the one you stayed up all night doing —and your first partnered assignment of the semester finds you doing it all by yourself. Muted mics, black windows, complete radio silence; you hated it all. 

You find yourself weirdly longing for Jeon Jungkook’s presence, even if he’s only there to talk about some movie he saw last night. No one is as much of a chatterbox as him, can’t even hold a candle to the way he draws everyone in with his mindless conversations. At least he speaks during Breakout Rooms, you think bitterly. 

Anyway, the first week of classes ends and your brain is a frenzied mess. There’s schedules to memorize, professors to impress, assignments to plan out. There’s definitely no time to sit around and fantasize about the curly haired cutie in one of your general classes. The weekend is spent trying to organize your planner, filling in due dates and exam days ahead of time. It’s your last semester and you’re dead set on making it your best one yet. There’s a lot of written work this time around, analyses and research papers that need to be organized. The road ahead is manageable, but you’ll have to work hard to keep it that way for the next five months. 

Most notably, there’s one group project waiting for you, which leads you to Friday. Sitting at your desk, bright and early, absolutely dreading being assigned to your group.

Jungkook is early this time, not like on Monday where he’d been one of the last to filter in, and he’s looking as chirpy as ever. Donning this horrendously hot pink shirt, completely unlike the neutral tones he’d worn during your last two meetings and that decorate his room, and the cutest pair of circle glasses sitting on his nose. He says his regularly scheduled ‘good morning’ to you all and receives a collective response from the rest of the class that not even your professor got. 

Speaking of the professor, you’ve been giving him the stink eye this whole time. Not that he can tell, given the fact he’s probably miles away in his own home while you angrily glare at him through your webcam. It’s this old guy who’s decided to sort you all into semester long groups for the class, which is the absolute worst. These types of groups always go the same way: you make a group chat promising to study together, those plans fall through, and then everyone just leeches off of each other for homework answers. And in most cases, it’s you handing over your homework answers because no one else ever bothers to do anything. Sadly, it’s a routine you’ve had to suffer through many times in your academic career. 

The thought makes you sick. Having to spend another semester being labeled as the bossy, nerdy dictator of the group? Not exactly how you wanted to spend the last few months of college, but there’s nothing you can do. Maybe this time around you’ll just let it be, won’t fight it (and by it, you mean your lazy classmates when they inevitably try to guilt trip you for homework) and simply let it run its course. 

“I’m going to put you guys into Breakout Rooms with your new groups!” your professor claps excitedly, and then you and the rest of your classmates are forced to watch him lean too close to the camera as he begins clicking around to find the preset groups he’s assigned the class. “Remember, guys, this is it for the rest of the semester. So if something isn’t right, let me know by the end of today.” 

Man, this was going to suck, you groan. The syllabus had said that the purpose of these groups was to keep you all connected with your classmates during these trying times, to give you the same opportunities in-person learning would. Frankly, you’re not too worried about making friends with everyone in this large class. Most of them are younger than you anyway, save for Jeon Jungkook (he/him) and a handful of others who are apparently in your year. Befriending lowerclassmen only to have to bid them adieu in a few months seems awfully sad, a little too heartbreaking. You really just want to get a good grade in this class, collect the last of your credits, and put this whole college experience behind you. 

Your thoughts are wrapped up by the pop-up message that appears on screen. 

The host is inviting you to join a Breakout Room: Group 12

You sigh, contemplate dropping this class for all of two seconds, before dutifully accepting the request. Worse comes to worst, you make up some lie to tell your professor that you’re allergic to group work and hope it works. (It won’t.) 

You sit through the mandatory loading screen for a few seconds before being abruptly dumped into your new room, Group 12, or so the message had said. There’s no one else here yet, which isn’t really a surprise. A lot of your classmates are probably like you, scowling at the pop up message every time your professor sends you into small groups before accepting the request. So you chill by yourself, eyes tracing over your own mirrored image. The notes on last night’s reading are neatly laid out before you, your copy of the book off to the side. 

Another beat and then, much to your surprise, Jeon Jungkook (he/him) is appearing in your room. “Oh,” he says, round eyes magnified by the thick lens of his glasses, the glare of the computer’s glow casting a funny shape across the lens that momentarily robs you of his pretty eyes. His pretty pink lips stretch into a smile, upper lip thinning out a bit when he flashes you those perfect teeth. “Hi, __,” he greets politely, bubbly. 

It’s embarrassing how much his presence affects you, your back going ramrod straight in a terrible attempt to compose yourself. “Hi, Jungkook,” you manage to get out, fingers nervously reaching for something, anything, to ground yourself. They land on a pencil. 

Jungkook doesn’t seem even the slightest bit aware of the commotion he causes within you. “I was really nervous for these groups,” he begins rambling right away, lips pushing down into an exaggerated frown as he shivers at the memory. “But I’m glad I got placed with someone hardworking like you!”

Despite how sweet he sounds, you’re not entirely sure if he’s buttering you up just to take advantage of your ‘hardworking’ attitude later down the road or if he’s genuinely being polite. The little information you know about Jungkook wants you to believe it is the latter; he’s very kind, sweet and nice in a way that makes everyone he speaks to feel warm. Still, for all you know this could be some elaborate ruse of his to make you trust him now and then convince you to do all the work for the rest of the semester. 

Tentatively, you ask, “and how would you know that?” You try your best to keep your usual snappiness out of your voice, pose it simply out of curiosity. But everything you say or do feels like a stark contrast to Jungkook and his bubbliness. 

His head tilts cutely to the side, imploring brown eyes looking at you for one hard second. And then, “I read your forum analysis from Wednesday,” he admits, breaking into a smile. Shy and tiny, bashfully looking down at his desk. “I thought your perspective on the piece was really interesting,” he says, lips pursing together as if he’s suddenly too embarrassed to admit such things to you. 

Stunned, all you can manage is one slow nod. “Thank you,” you eventually choke out, trying to ward the heat away from your cheeks as Jungkook sheepishly nods back, cute smile still on his face. 

“Oh, please,” he chuckles, raising his hand to rub at the back of his neck. “Don’t thank me!” 

It is in this exact moment that you are suddenly made aware of two things. 

One: despite his collection of soft sweaters and t-shirts, his bouncy curls and sweet smile, Jeon Jungkook’s body is neither as cute nor as soft as any of his belongings. In fact, Jeon Jungkook’s body is all hard planes and prominent veins. Arms beefy, biceps that bulge beneath the fabric of the short sleeve t-shirt he’s donned today. His shoulders fill out the material nicely, making him look broad and huge, but that’s not even the worst part, because—

—two: Jeon Jungkook is covered in ink. Dark streaks and swirls paint his forearms, curling around his elbow. Every inch of his pale skin is littered with tiny designs. They dance along the back of his hands, over his knuckles, and end at an unidentifiable point beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt. When he tugs at the neckline of his shirt in an effort to readjust it, you hope your eyes are deceiving you and that isn’t a hint of ink by his collarbone. 

Your normal composure seems to slip away at the mere thought. 

It’s Jungkook’s voice that brings you back, a soft timbre that asks, “aren’t we supposed to have someone else in our group?” You flinch as if you’ve been caught ogling him, never mind the fact he’s started mindlessly shuffling some papers around on his desk, not the slightest bit concerned with you. 

“Oh— um, yes. I think,” you stammer, feeling like some creep for ogling your very cute, very sweet classmate. The memory of his inky skin nearly sends a shiver down your spine as you navigate back to the class syllabus. “We’re supposed to have at least three people,” you read off, glancing at the boy on your screen who frowns at the news. 

“Do you think they dropped?” Given it was still only the first week of school, probably. There had been a fewer number of people in the call when it started, you remembered. Jungkook sighs, this rather light sound that ends in a hum. “Well, we can always wait a few minutes just in case.”

So you wait, nervously bouncing your leg up and down. It’s not awkward, or at least, not as awkward as it would be with anyone else. The other week you had silently sat with another classmate in a one-on-one discussion and hadn’t uttered a word for five minutes. It wasn’t because you didn’t care about the class, but because said classmate had been tapping away on their phone the entire time and hadn’t even responded to your simple greeting. That was awkward. 

With Jungkook it’s more weird than awkward. You can tell the silence makes him uncomfortable because he keeps doing these tiny inhales like he’s about to speak, followed by a little head shake where he seemingly stops himself from saying anything at all. He wants to talk, very badly it seems, but holds back for some odd reason. 

He’s scribbling on some sheet of paper, leaning forward to give you a view of the top of his head. From this angle, his shirt hangs forward and a silver necklace falls out from beneath the neckline, thuds against the table. And then your suspicions are nearly confirmed, and oh god, is that a chest piece—

You quickly look away. 

Robbed of his handsome face and feeling like you’ll die if you look at his body any longer, you settle for your newly acquired favorite pastime: inspecting your classmates’ rooms over Zoom. Yes, you’ll admit it is incredibly nosy, but what else can you do? You can only look at your professor for so long until you inevitably grow bored, attention drifting off to your classmates tiny windows. And with no professor in sight, just gorgeous Jeon Jungkook, you quickly begin your examination of his bedroom. 

Jungkook’s room is pretty much the same as you remember it, rather neat and plain. There’s not a lot going on in terms of decoration, which is a little surprising to say the least. Over the course of the week, you’ve watched your classmates’ dormitories and bedrooms gradually change, decorations and tapestries decorating the walls, mountains of pillows added to their beds. It’s only natural that everyone has an innate need to show off who they are now more than ever, and you thought Jungkook would be the same. 

Apparently not. 

Aside from the guitar you had spotted on Monday, his little dorm room remains unchanged. Blank walls, grayscale sheets. The same perfectly fluffed pillows and then—

A tiny Keroppi plush smack dab in the middle of his bed. 

It’s adorable but a little out of place amongst Jungkook’s rather masculine decorations (or lack thereof). A tiny green doll sitting by his pillows, cute striped shirt and ridiculously dopey smile. 

Leaning forward, you unmute yourself and conversationally say, “I love your Keroppi.” 

At the sudden sound of your voice, Jungkook abruptly straightens up, glasses practically at the very tip of his nose. Eyes wide, it takes him a second to process your words before jerkily whipping around to stare at the aforementioned item. “Oh,” he jumps, slowly looking at his screen again, lips pulled into a tight line. “Um… it’s not mi—“

“It’s adorable,” you add, propping your chin in your palm, absolutely endeared with the rosy color that paints his cheeks, fades down the column of his neck. 

He squirms, hurriedly pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He looks like he’ll deny it again, nervously nibbling at his lower lip, before eventually he settles with a sigh. “I won it from a crane machine,” he confesses with a sheepish huff of laughter, rolling backwards to the edge of his bed to snatch it from its spot. 

(Of course he manspreads as he sits, dark jeans hugging his thighs as he rolls back your way. His arm looks so strong, covered in all that ink, you nearly drool.)

“It’s cute, isn’t it?” he says, abandoning his embarrassment as he shakes the little figure around, makes it look like it’s dancing for you. “My mom said it looks like me.”

At that, you laugh. Loud and boisterous because you were definitely not expecting Jungkook to say that, such an odd but weirdly fitting comparison that has you looking at the doll in his hands with renewed interest. And through the pixelated screen, you can see the similarities: Jungkook does have the same smile as Keroppi. 

“Your mom was right,” you agree, wiping a faux tear from the corner of your eye. “Very cute.” 

Jungkook’s got this big goofy smile on, shaking his head in disbelief that you would ever dare agree with his mom. Like he’s genuinely enjoying himself, you think, oddly proud to have evoked that reaction from him. Granted, Jungkook always looks like he’s pretty happy during class, but it feels nice knowing that you were (confirmed) the reason why.  

A little caught up with the bumbling feeling in your chest, you’re not expecting his next words. “Does that mean I’m cute?” he asks, still with that same dopey smile on his face. 

It’s a bold statement you wouldn’t have expected from him, someone who seems content being the world’s friend, but apparently Jeon Jungkook also craves compliments. 

Slowly, you nod. “...yes,” you say, trying to keep the tumultuous emotions inside of you at bay while you grant him this one compliment. Outwardly, you give him what you hope is an obviously feigned look of disbelief, managing to lace it with a little amusement as you shake your head at his inquiry. On the inside, your mind and heart are a thundering racetrack, the roar of the engines and the screams of the crowd enough to momentarily make you lose your senses. “Very cute,” you repeat, hoping he can’t hear the same pounding of your heartbeat in your throat and in your ears as you do. “Like a little frog.” 

Jungkook graces your robotic response with the most boyish laugh, head tossed back as one loud cackle (because, really, there is no other way to describe the sound that tears itself from his throat) escapes him, curls bouncing back from the movement. “Cute like a frog,” he wheezes, seemingly to himself as he shakes his head with a grin, scooting closer to the camera again. “That’s a new one.” 

“You set yourself up for it,” you defend, busying yourself with the papers spread out in front of you before Jungkook can distract you any further. “Anyway!” you announce, neatly lining the papers up. “Our group.”

Jungkook does his best to wipe the glee off his face, but even as he reaches around for his things, it’s still there. “Right,” he agrees, “we have to, um—“ a huff of laughter “—group contract! Or, well, partner project.”

Briefly, you consider calling in your professor to inform him of your missing partner. He had said to let him know by the end of today if something was wrong. But, honestly, you didn’t see a problem with your group the way it was now. While you can only hope he’ll turn out to be as dedicated to his work as you, as it stands now, there weren’t any major red flags surrounding Jungkook’s character. 

Besides, you didn’t mind being with him for the rest of the semester. 

You nod, forcing yourself to ignore the glimmer in his eyes when he looks at you through the screen. “I think it’s safe to say it’ll just be the two of us, which I don’t mind,” you say, glancing at the time on the corner of your screen to see five minutes have passed since you agreed to wait. “Do you?”

On screen, Jungkook profusely shakes his head, curls bouncing all over the place. “Nope,” he hums. “I don’t mind at all,” he reassures you, resting his chin in his palm as he regards you, and then sweetly adds, “it’ll be nice with just us, __.”

Right. 

You gulp, heart fluttering at the dreaminess he exudes through your screen, the soft strand of hair that falls over his forehead, tickles his brow bone when he flashes you another smile.  He was so handsome. Before you say anything silly, you quickly attempt to move on. “But it does make us more of a duo than a group.” 

Jungkook looks away from his screen for the first time in what feels like forever and you finally let your heart rest for a second. “A duo,” he murmurs, shuffling through his papers. “Like Mickey and Minnie?” 

You nearly choke on your spit, coughing to hide the surprise from his rather cute suggestion. He’s not even looking at you, doesn’t even realize the absolute shock he’s thrown you in by comparing the two of you to one of the most famous couples— that’s what they are, a goddamn couple, not a duo! the words mean two completely different things! —in the world. Instead, Jungkook is humming the theme song to Drake & Josh. 

This man was dangerous for your heart. 

After having felt all the emotions in the world in the span of ten seconds, you eventually gather the courage to say, “sure,” and quickly try to move the conversation along. “We just need to, um, make some ground rules and responsibilities for us to follow.” 

Jungkook nods, finally glancing up again, but not at you. He’s glaring at some point behind his computer, brows furrowed together as he begins brainstorming on his own. You try to, really, but his lips pout adorably when he’s deep in thought, and they’re just so pink and look so soft and would feel like—

“Well, we should probably exchange numbers first,” Jungkook says, interrupting your spiraling thoughts with a new topic to spiral over. He tilts his head to the side, brown eyes focused on you. 

“Yes, of course,” you stammer, fumbling for your phone as Jungkook lets out a soft yay at your acceptance of his request. Quickly, he recites his number and you type it in with trembling hands into the number pad, giving him a quick call so he can have your number as well. 

You save him right away, just his name followed by the class you share with him. Not like you know any other Jeon Jungkooks, and if you did, you doubt anyone could ever leave such an impact like this Jeon Jungkook. 

“__, look,” Jungkook calls, that same excitement lacing his already lovely voice, and you raise your head up at the screen again. He’s waving his phone over his camera, so you don’t get to see his face when he says, “It’s a little mouse emoji and a pink bow— just like Minnie!”

Dangerous for your heart and, most likely, the death of you this semester.

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