#used up all 70 pulls i had saved

[ilseofskadi]

"i'm not going to pull for firefly" i said

"i don't need a fire dps" i said

"i don't even use destruction characters, i don't have any good light cones" i said

"i need to save for hunt!march and fox boy" I SAID

[cup-of-starlight-waters]

Okay, let me tell you a story:

Once upon a time, there was a prose translation of the Pearl Poet’s Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. It was wonderfully charming and lyrical and perfect for use in a high school, and so a clever English teacher (as one did in the 70s) made a scan of the book for her students, saved it as a pdf, and printed copies off for her students every year. In true teacher tradition, she shared the file with her colleagues, and so for many years the students of the high school all studied Sir Gawain and the Green Knight from the same (very badly scanned) version of this wonderful prose translation.

In time, a new teacher became head of the English Department, and while he agreed that the prose translation was very wonderful he felt that the quality of the scan was much less so. Also in true teacher tradition, he then spent hours typing up the scan into a word processor, with a few typos here and there and a few places where he was genuinely just guessing wildly at what the scan actually said. This completed word document was much cleaner and easier for the students to read, and so of course he shared it with his colleagues, including his very new wide-eyed faculty member who was teaching British Literature for the first time (this was me).

As teachers sometimes do, he moved on for greener (ie, better paying) pastures, leaving behind the word document, but not the original pdf scan. This of course meant that as I was attempting to verify whether a weird word was a typo or a genuine artifact of the original translation, I had no other version to compare it to. Being a good card-holding gen zillenial I of course turned to google, making good use of the super secret plagiarism-checking teacher technique “Quotation Marks”, with an astonishing result:

By which I mean literally one result.

For my purposes, this was precisely what I needed: a very clean and crisp scan that allowed me to make corrections to my typed edition: a happily ever after, amen.

But beware, for deep within my soul a terrible Monster was stirring. Bane of procrastinators everywhere, my Curiosity had found a likely looking rabbit hole. See, this wonderfully clear and crisp scan was lacking in two rather important pieces of identifying information: the title of the book from which the scan was taken, and the name of the translator. The only identifying features were the section title “Precursors” (and no, that is not the title of the book, believe me I looked) and this little leaf-like motif by the page numbers:

(Remember the leaf. This will be important later.)

We shall not dwell at length on the hours of internet research that ensued—how the sun slowly dipped behind the horizon, grading abandoned in shadows half-lit by the the blue glow of the computer screen—how google search after search racked up, until an email warning of “unusual activity on your account” flashed into momentary existence before being consigned immediately and with some prejudice to the digital void—how one third of the way through a “comprehensive but not exhaustive” list of Sir Gawain translators despair crept in until I was left in utter darkness, screen black and eyes staring dully at the wall.

Above all, let us not admit to the fact that such an afternoon occurred not once, not twice, but three times.

Suffice to say, many hours had been spent in fruitless pursuit before a new thought crept in: if this book was so mysterious, so obscure as to defeat the modern search engine, perhaps the answer lay not in the technologies of today, but the wisdom of the past. Fingers trembling, I pulled up the last blast email that had been sent to current and former faculty and staff, and began to compose an email to the timeless and indomitable woman who had taught English to me when I was a student, and who had, after nearly fifty years, retired from teaching just before I returned to my alma mater.

After staring at the email for approximately five or so minutes, I winced, pressed send, and let my plea sail out into the void. I cannot adequately describe for you the instinctive reverence I possess towards this teacher; suffice to say that Ms English was and is a woman of remarkable character, as much a legend as an institution as a woman of flesh and blood whose enduring influence inspired countless students. There is not a student taught by Ms. English who does not have a story to tell about her, and her decline in her last years of teaching and eventual retirement in the face of COVID was the end of an era. She still remembers me, and every couple months one of her contemporaries and dear friends who still works as a guidance counsellor stops me in the hall to tell me that Ms. English says hello and that she is thrilled that I am teaching here—thrilled that I am teaching honors students—thrilled that I am now teaching the AP students. “Tell her I said hello back,” I always say, and smile.

Ms. English is a legend, and one does not expect legends to respond to you immediately. Who knows when a woman of her generation would next think to check her email? Who knows if she would remember?

The day after I sent the email I got this response:

My friends, I was shaken. I was stunned. Imagine asking God a question and he turns to you and says, “Hold on one moment, let me check with my predecessor.”

The idea that even Ms. English had inherited this mysterious translation had never even occurred to me as a possibility, not when Ms. English had been a faculty member since the early days of the school. How wonderful, I thought to myself. What a great thing, that this translation is so obscure and mysterious that it defeats even Ms. English.

A few days later, Ms. English emailed me again:

(I had, in fact searched through both the English office and the Annex—a dark, weirdly shaped concrete storage area containing a great deal of dust and many aging copies of various books—a few days prior. I had no luck, sadly.)

At last, though, I had a title and a description! I returned to my internet search, only to find to my dismay that there was no book that exactly matched the title. I found THE BRITISH TRADITION: POETRY, PROSE, AND DRAMA (which was not black and the table of contents I found did not include Sir Gawain) and THE ENGLISH TRADITION, a super early edition of the Prentice Hall textbooks we use today, which did have a black cover but there were absolutely zero images I could find of the table of contents or the interior and so I had no way of determining if it was the correct book short of laying out an unfortunate amount of cold hard cash for a potential dead end.

So I sighed, and relinquished my dreams of solving the mystery. Perhaps someday 30 years from now, I thought, I’ll be wandering through one of those mysterious bookshops filled with out of print books and I’ll pick up a book and there will be the translation, found out last!

So I sighed, and told the whole story to my colleagues for a laugh. I sent screenshots of Ms. English’s emails to my siblings who were also taught by her. I told the story to my Dad over dinner as my Great Adventure of the Week.

…my friends. I come by my rabbit-hole curiosity honestly, but my Dad is of a different generation of computer literacy and knows a few Deep Secrets that I have never learned. He asked me the title that Ms. English gave me, pulled up some mysterious catalogue site, and within ten minutes found a title card. There are apparently two copies available in libraries worldwide, one in Philadelphia and the other in British Columbia. I said, “sure, Dad,” and went upstairs. He texted me a link. Rolling my eyes, I opened it and looked at the description.

Huh, I thought. Four volumes, just like Ms. English said. I wonder…

Armed with a slightly different title and a publisher, I looked up “The English Tradition: Fiction macmillan” and the first entry is an eBay sale that had picture of the interior and LO AND BEHOLD:

THE LEAF. LOOK AT THE LEAF.

My dad found it! He found the book!!

Except for one teensy tiny problem which is that the cover of the book is uh a very bright green and not at all black like Ms. English said. Alas, it was a case of mistaken identity, because The English Tradition: Poetry does have a black cover, although it is the fiction volume which contains Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.

And so having found the book at last, I have decided to purchase it for the sum of $8, that ever after the origins of this translation may once more be known.

In this year of 2022 this adventure took place, as this post bears witness, the end, amen.

(Edit: See here for part 2!)

[assignedmale]

Hello everyone! Our heads still aren't above the water after our heating troubles from last winter - quite literally, since our basement is now flooding because of the snow melting - and it's never easy for me to bring this up, but we could really use some help. We've been without heating for two whole months now because of this!

Thank you!

xx Sophie

***

Four years ago, my husband and I moved into a crumbling historical rural schoolhouse near the Arctic, with the intent of turning it into an art residency for queer and trans artists. We actually welcomed our first artist guests last year! This was going great, until the heating bills literally doubled in 2022 because of the geopolitical situation. To add to this situation, our basement flooded twice last year, destroying our furnace and drying up our savings.

Then starting last December, a record-shattering cold wave paralyzed our country and more specifically our region, which recorded some of the coldest temperatures on the planet, for several weeks. At the same time, the radiators of our old house that dated from the 70s decided to give up. We had to get new ones installed in emergency, to avoid further tragedies.

For the past few weeks, as the sole provider for our growing family, I've been trying to make up for these events by pulling all-nighters, scraping pennies and trying to sell as many books as I could. However, even with time extensions, bill deadlines are approaching and I must face the fact that there is no way we can save our home without some help.

(...)

Despite barely paying a living wage, we believe in the work that we do. The well-being of trans and queer communities is what drives us to create art and share our spaces. Our wish is to keep creating despite these events. However, this might not be possible if we lose our home.

[yrqrnc]

𖤐 ִֶָ 𓂃 STRAY KIDS : SMILING WEIRD AT THEM UNTIL THEY NOTICE

genre: fluff, crack, pranks

pairing: skz x reader

bringing the tiktok pranks back bcs i need funny headcanon ideas to write 😁🙏🏻

some member's parts might be a bit shorter than the rest bcs i wrote some while being sugar high at 2:50 in the morning so pls excuse that

leave comments, reblog, and feedbacks pls <3

𖤐 CHAN : —

is 70% concerned 30% holding his laugh

you approached him and started a normal conversation on a very normal thursday afternoon so he thought everything was nice and ok in the house and with you???

he guesses not, a minute or two into the talk 😟

bcs why are you smiling at him in a way that would summon his sleep paralysis demon at night???

he already sleeps so less now he fears he will have to sleep even less.

is too worried to say anything about it because what if this is actually your true smile and you’re just getting comfortable around him and he hurts your feelings by making a comment about it?

right????

but he’s also starting to get scared because wHAT HAPPENED TO HIS BABY YOU’VE NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE 😭😭😭 WHAT WENT WRONG ⁉️

PLS BRING THEM BACK 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

doesn’t say anything but gets so tensed during the convo and gives you this look that has you breaking character shortly after, bcs you burst out laughing and going back to that cute big smile he was used to and the one he adored.

(sorry, writer-break-in: now if anyone comments abt how they ugly laugh, i’m gonna smash my guitar on your head. chris says that’s cute, so it’s cute. you don’t get a say.)

then he’s like “oh ☺️ that’s it. here they are <3”

thinks about it when he lays in his bed at night tho

might make him rethink everything and consider your health (mental & physical) for a couple days 😕👎🏻

𖤐 MINHO : —

right, ok. so, he notices it so quick

this man is VERYYY very very observant and he knows you like the back of his hand

so the moment you flash your worst smile as he’s in the midst of talking, taking just the chance when he looked to the side for a sec—

he catches it from his peripheral vision, snaps his head at you and he goes 🤨⁉️ (15% concerned 85% judging)

stares at you silently for a while after that, trying to figure you out

🧍🏻😾❓️ (yes.)

when you act completely normal and ask him why he stopped, telling him to continue and all that, he cautiously goes back to saying what he had been talking about

but then you pull your shit again and he catches it this time too right away

(bcs he’s always looking at you when he’s talking. he looks at you when you’re talking too. he looks at you. he just loves looking at you, that’s honestly it. bro is just an eye-contact and make their knees weak type of person)

and he knows he isn’t high

looks straight at you and goes — “what’s wrong with this one... 😐”

and you’re all like “what??? 😠🦿🦿 what’s wrong w me???” bcs how dare he say that in that tone

“why are u making yourself look like that plushie whose face doongie scratched up last week”

LMAOOOO 😭😭😭 SAVE YOURSELF

so you’re throwing hands now (& terribly failing) and this is the only part of your stupid prank that minho is finding fun

𖤐 CHANGBIN : —

HELP.

doesn’t know if he should laugh or cry someone pls take him away from you 🙁🙏🏻

he’s just casually telling you about this sick rap that he came up with yesterday night in the studio

and you’re nodding and laughing, and he turns to focus on you more and finds you like: 😁 i mean 👹???

and the lOOK THAT PASSES THROUGH HIS EYES AND THE WAY HIS SMILE DROPS SO SLOWLY

WITH AN EYE TWITCH TOO

LORD HELP ME

no HELP SEO CHANGBIN ACTUALLY

bro freezes but then he tries to play it chill, chuckling and being like “right... 😄☝🏻 hahah hahahahah so i was saying... ”

but you keep doing it and he can’t ignore it anymore 😔

“...baby what’s wrong? do you feel sick?” and that too in such a scared voice yOU CAN'T KEEP UP THE ACT ANYMORE

once you tell him it’s a prank, relief washes over him like cold water on a scorching hot summer day and he laughs along with you

might haunt him when he’s alone in his studio at midnight tho

𖤐 HYUNJIN : —

judges you.

no i’m not even gonna try to be funny first

HE JUDGES 👨‍⚖️

you do it and he instantly goes “😦😣 what the fuck”

and you’re like “what? what happened?”

and he doesn’t even know what to say

then he switches up just as quickly and starts yapping again

but you do it again too

and he’s so fed up he goes “dude tf wrong w u 🙄”

and when you keep doing it, he starts iMITATING YOU TO MOCK YOU😭😭

now you’re both just flaring your teeth and gums at each other while cackling in between too, and anyone watching would’ve started praying honestly

later that day, after finding out it was a prank he’s just thinking... why is my partner like this... 😟

he loves u tho <3

𖤐 JISUNG : —

honestly bro...

he finds you adorable :(

like, you guys are casually talking one evening

and he’s telling you about this new anime he watched recently, that almost made him cry

and he’s telling you the amazing sad plot and all, and out of nowhere you just 😁

first he’s really caught off guard bcs... girl (gn!) what 😟 i said??? i almost???? CRIED??? HEARTBREAK?????

but then he just looks at you as you keep up w the goofiness when he speaks again, and he thinks to himself

:(“i love this idiot so much even tho i do feel half irritated and offended right now”

bcs even if you’re pulling your ugliest smile rn, he loves that sparkle in your eyes as you stifle a laugh back and the way almost break character everytime you make eye contact with him

sorry guys this is getting soft but

jisung just loves you very much ☹️☹️☹️

prank is all forgotten, you are just two young people in love <3

𖤐 FELIX : —

i would say he already knows what the trend is, but that’s really boring so let’s pretend that he’s actually getting fooled here.

the moment he sees u doing it, that epic felix thing happens again— where his smile gradually just drops and he has that :0 face in the funniest way

he isn’t sure if he should speak bcs what if that unleashes more of that demon in u 😓

he’s torn between two things actually: should he hug you and try to squish the demonic smile out of you, or should be just stay away and give u your space until ur okay again

bcs he isn’t sure about how fine you are with the way you’re smiling at him right now

he might just be like:

“haha hahahahah hahahah ok we laughed now can we pls have my partner and their sweet smile back 🙁”

genuinely doesn’t know what to do

half of him is scared, half finds you very cute, some other bits are thinking of ways to get back on a a prank of his lololololz

he decides to continue speaking bcs maybe you’ll get distracted by the talk and come back to him normally again

doesn’t happen. so now he’s just there and thinking abt how to fix u 😞🙏🏻

𖤐 SEUNGMIN : —

you hate him

you hate him so bad

he doesn’t give you any reaction AT ALL 😐👎🏻

you start off gentle at first, right, like doing it when he wasn’t looking and then gradually more intensely and so he could clearly see

but nothing. no weird looks. no comments. no judgement.

NOTHING AT ALL?!^#^*@#,

at some point you get all up in his face and you’re like 😁😁😁👹😁😁😁👹😁😁❓️❓️❓️

and mf just keeps talking like nothing is wrong or off

it gets you more and more frustrated with each passing second but man, if you’d put that irritation aside and looked more closely into his facial expressions,

you would’ve seen the way the corner of his mouth lifted in the slightest and that glint of mischief in his eye

but you don’t 🙄

when you finally give up and go “babe why aren’t you asking me why i’m smiling weird??? 😕”

he... he says... he’s like—

“huh? but don’t you always smile like that?”

damn y/n 😥💔 that’s how it was huh

you’re abt to poke his eyeballs out and then shit tears yourself

jk dw tho he’s just teasing you

he stays with felix enough to know about these ideas

and from how you’ve done multiple pranks on him before, everytime you do something weird or out of place now, he just assumes you’re onto some prank

𖤐 JEONGIN : —

HE GETS SCARED PLS DONT😭

NO LIKE he actually starts taking it in all the wrong ways

when he sees you smiling like that.. there’s this STORM of emotions that starts cooking up inside him 😭

“are they ok” “are they mad at me and trying to play it off” “is this a trick move” “is this a prank and if so how should i react that it would make me seem cool and—”

but then... SUDDENLY

he suddenly remembers this piece of information he read on the internet LONG time back, like, AGES ago !! that said like

if someone is having a stroke or about to, their smile will be crooked / really weird and off/abnormal

....

no way... right ?

HIS BABY 😟😕🥺🥺😭😭😭 (emojis are satire im not—)

“...baby 😨😰 i think... i think you’re about to have a stroke 😣 or ARE YOU HAVING IT ALREADY 😰😢😢 HAS IT STARTED😭⁉️”

now ur not sure if u should stop or continue and whether u should laugh, cry or bonk him in the head

but he’s just a jeongin 🙁🎀

[beforeimdeceased]

…ELECTRIC LADY 📺💋🚬

pairing: 70s!ellie x reader

synopsis: the devil’s back in town and there’s no angel to save you.

author’s note: the lack of these ellie fics was baffling. LIKE THE MULLET IS RIGHT THERE! ib the lovely @ellabsweet

part one. > part two.

⋆˚✿˖°

“why’s she keep showing up?”

“well if you give a dog a bone.”

“oh fuck off i ain’t give her nothing but a good time. she’s the one asking me to leave with her to a different state.”

“road trip? maybe that’ll do you good.”

“you need to get fucked every which way and loose. you’re too uptight, doll.”

was why your feet were currently dangling outside the window of the ever charming girl’s 72 grey oldsmobile, cross hanging just above the dashboard. you bop your body a bit before reaching down to grab a tape she’d left on the passenger seat floor.

“aww man, jimi hendrix.” she nods, tapping her finger on the steering wheel. she’s leant back in the drivers seat, eyes cross with the road. cigarette tucked behind her right ear.

“you know, i don’t know you that well anymore. the city’s changed you.” you open her glove box to find a bottle of brown liquor and a light. “and yet you still agreed to come with me.”

“against my will.” you roll your eyes. it’d been three hours into the trip and you were feigning boredom. all the flavor had gone from your gum, and you weren’t in the mood for a book.

ellie was a country city country girl, cause it all happened in that exact order. a couple years ago she moved to where the buildings were brighter and the possibilities were endless. you’d actually been talking about her the day she came back.

“that’s ellie.” you point to the picture of the smiling girl pinned to the diner wall. “she’s a big star now, too good for us.” you explained to eilaine. she’d just moved into town and you two quickly bonded over music, makeup, and dancing. throw a little gossip in the mix while you’re at it.

you nearly chuck up your milkshake when the chime rings and the aforementioned movie star walks in. hands in her pockets and a smile on her face. she’d cut her hair into a mullet and was dressed like something you’d only seen in a magazine.

“speak of the devil.” you get up to give her a hug.

“and he shall appear.” she hugs back. “hi darling, i’ve missed you.”

a bit of light conversation over some drinks, nuts, and a game of pool that you lost had led you to be huddled up in the hot car with her. how the hell did she convince you to join her in that big city of hers? well it wasn’t all her, your roommates were dying to get you out of there.

“it’s only for a month? let her take you for longer!” dina says mid makeup. she hadn’t even evened out her eyeliner before she started sending you off. and abby was no help. “i can’t protest. i think it’d be good for you, we’ll have that sweet new girl cover your shifts.”

“did you guys plan this behind my back or something?” your eyes follow abby’s body swiftly moving to the closet to pull out a suitcase. “if we did you’d be gone already, now start packing.”

[captaindysdexic]

My problem with Twisted Wonderland

As someone who used to consistently play every single day for months, I've got a lot of issues. Let me preface this by saying I know nothing I'm saying will change the game and how it runs, I just want to come here and rant about the game I used to love.

Rant below the cut

My biggest problem is how grindy the game is, especially as a strict f2p player.

As someone who's never spent money on the game, it is so easy to tell how much of a cash grab the game is. The people that work on the game care about it I'm sure, but it is so hard to do anything in this game.

It's hard to get SSR cards, not only because the Gacha system is hella fucked up, but because it's hard to get enough gems to get pulls. Yeah we've got weekly and the logins, but that's so not enough unless you save for a card months in advance.

When you're a new player they give you some leeway, lots of free stuff because all the easy missions are meant for that, but as you get further and further into the game it's extremely hard to get even a 10 pull unless you're on the game basically 24/7.

As someone who is rank 72- and again, played almost religiously for months- it's hard to enjoy the game.

And I know as the story goes on it's meant to be harder, but because of how little they give you it's hard to get past the story as it goes on. It's hard leveling cards up, especially the spells.

It would be nicer if they gave you more materials or gems, that would make all the grind worth it, but that's not how it is. Hell, even events barely give you any pulls and yet they expect you to spend hours doing lessons to unlock the chapters and leveling up the free cards. Someone who's f2p (in my and my friends experience) will find it hard to get motivation to continue playing.

I want to continue playing, I love the characters and the story, but it's so hard to level up cards, or get pulls, that it breaks my heart and makes me want to not continue because I know I won't ever get that card I want, that I won't be able to get past this chapter, that I won't be able to finish an event fully because of the system.

It's so obvious they don't care about f2p's because reruns and even some event banners are strictly p2p things. Rerun banners require special keys that are pay-walled, event banners like the anime expo ones or special non-event related ones are pay-walled, THEY'RE ALL PAY-WALLED.

To me it is extremely frustrating to know that the developers don't seem to care about the fan base at all.

I mentioned earlier about the Gacha system, which I find really, REALLY dumb. 100 pulls for a guaranteed SSR? 200 needed for the event SSR? That's so dumb! Even if you were p2p you'd have to have some extreme luck to get an event card before at least 70 (which it's hard to get if you're far in game and f2p). In my experience, all the event cards I have that are SSR's (WHICH IS 2 BTW, ive been playing since idia's groom event and only have TWO EVENT CARDS EVEN WITH CONSTANT GRIND) I had to do over 70-80 pulls for and spent weeks grinding for. Not to mention pity doesn't carry over to other banners.

Speaking of events, I swear to god the events are getting shorter and shorter every time. The Stitch event that just passed? I swear it only lasted 3-4 weeks, banners ended way too quickly for any f2p that wasn't saving to pull without extreme luck to get any SSR card, got forbid the event exclusive ones. I got like 25 pulls during that event and 10 of those were because it was Kalim's birthday. It's extremely dumb and next thing you know it events will be lasting only a week or two and you're probably fucked over.

Anyways, that's basically all I have to say. There are a lot of things that frustrate me, like how they do events and some characters stuff, but I can't bother to put it here because I'm not as pressed about that stuff as I am about the stuff I did talk about.

I'm aware that people probably won't read this, but it's nice to get off my chest y'know? I'm going to continue to play the game, but I'll never play as constantly as I did when I first started because it's so hard to play and find motivation for it anymore.

[lousypotatoes]

Tumbling Dice - Husker

"Baby I can't stay, you got to roll me

And call me that tumbling dice~"

Pt.1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3

Song Recommendation:

Tumbling Dice - The Rolling Stones

Playlist

Warning! This contains rape and physical abuse. If any of those topics trigger you or make you uncomfortable, please with caution!

Prologue

70 years ago...

"Come on sweetheart, pretty please?" Roy slurred. Y/N could smell the booze coming of his breath. She was disgusted.

"If you straighten up and stop drinking, maybe," she angrily said, stomping off. 

"Why not?" he whined. She heard stumble into cabinet. 

"For the last time, Roy, I'm not having sex with you while you're drunk off your ass!" she spat, walking into her and her husband's shared bedroom. 

Suddenly, Roy grabbed her and threw her into the wall. 

"Don't you ever talk to me like that bitch!" he snarled, holding Y/N up by the collar of her dress. "You talk to me like that again, I'll fucking smash your head against the bedpost!"

"R-Roy!" she sniffled, blood dripping down her forehead. "I-I'm sorry just put me down! Please!" It was the first time Roy had ever been this violent. 

Instead of putting her down, Roy threw Y/N down on the bed. 

"What are you doing Roy?" she said, as he unbuckled his belt. She backed up the headboard. 

"I don't give a damn, if you wanna have sex with me or not, you're fucking doing it!" he said, grabbing Y/N and pulling off her dress. 

"Roy, stop!" she cried out, attempting to get out of his grasp. 

"Stay still," he growled, biting harshly on her neck. 

"Roy-"

"You say one more fucking word, and I'll gut you like a fucking pig,"

After months of this Y/N finally had enough. 

Being careful not to wake her husband, she slipped out of bed as quietly as she could. 

Tip toeing over to the closet, she grabbed the overnight bag that she had packed the previous night. She was going to stay at her mothers and deal filing the divorce in the morning. 

"Where do you think you're doing?" said a voice out of the blue. 

Y/N whipped her head around and saw Roy standing in the closet doorway in nothing but his boxers. 

"Roy!" she said, pushing away the overnight bag with her feet. "What are you doing up so late?"

"I could ask you the same thing, sweetheart," he said menacingly, walking towards her "You're not trying to leave, are you?" 

"No of course not I-" Roy seized her wrist. 

"I know when you're lying to me, Y/N," he growled. "Now tell me the truth, were you trying to leave?"

"No, no! I was just-"

Roy grabbed onto her throat, and squeezed as hard as he could. 

"I told you what was going to happen if you ever tried to leave!" he snarled, spitting in her face. 

"R-" she choked out. "R-R-Roy-"

"Save it, slut," he said calmly, bringing his other hand up to her throat. "You're going to die and it's all your fault." 

Y/N's vision was starting to get blurry, black dots were clouding her vision. Desperate to live, she started to feel around the shelves of the closet for anything she could use to defend herself. She finally found a hammer. She didn't know why Roy kept his tools in their closet, but she was grateful that hhe did in this moment. 

As hard as she could, she swung and hit Roy's head with the hammer. 

CRUNCH!

With a bloodcurdling scream, Roy let go of Y/N, falling to the floor. 

"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO!" he screamed, blood pouring out of head wound. Roy tried to stand up but he fell down. "I'M SORRY FOR WHAT I DID TO YOU Y/N!" he sobbed, tears streaming down his face. 

"Don't give me that crap, Roy," Y/N said coldly, brandishing the bloody hammer. "If you were really sorry, you wouldn't have done it at all." 

"Y/N please just for-"

His sentence was replaced with another scream. 

"DO. NOT. SAY. YOU. ARE. FUCKING. SORRY. YOU. ASS. HOLE." she screamed. After ever word she said, Y/N hit him with the hammer, until he wasn't recognizable. 

She dropped the hammer, satisfied that he was finally dead. Y/N was surprised at the fact that she was so calm, despite just killing her husband. 

Grabbing some clean clothes from the hangers, she quickly changed into a new set of pajamas. No longer needing, to stay at her mothers, she unpacked the overnight bag and put the clothes away. 

Before she walked out of the closet, she looked back at Roy's dead body. 

"I wish I did this sooner," Y/N muttered, closing the closet door and settling back into bed. 

yes, i know i've already posted this part but this is the official chapter

the previous one was just a preview

this very very beautiful banner was made by the very wonderful @al-of-the-stars

i suggest u go check out their blog. there's some pretty good stuff on there

in the heights is such an underrated musical

stay safe and drink lots of water <33

xoxo, Izzy

Taglist 💃

@mysticwitchcraftco

[cinnabunwanda]

SELFISH PT. 2 ˗ˏˋ꒰ BUCKY . BARNES ꒱

content warning — angst, crying pairing — Fem reader x Bucky Barnes summary — Bucky learns his best friend Steve Rogers prioritized his happiness over their mission, leaving him feeling guilty for not intervening. They grieve and share guilt. word count — 1216

Bucky's stomach churned as he reluctantly entered y/n's room, immediately hit by the pungent stench that hung in the air. He raised his arm to cover his nose, teasingly commenting on the foul odor that seemed to have taken over the once pleasant space. With a sense of urgency, Bucky rushed to open the windows, letting in fresh air in an attempt to combat the unpleasant smell.

As he turned back to face y/n, his heart sank at the sight before him. She had barely moved from her spot since Steve had left a week ago. Bucky had tried to make her laugh with his jokes and sat with her during meals, but she remained unresponsive and lost in her thoughts. It was as if she had disappeared along with Steve.

Bucky was no stranger to loss, but this one hit especially hard. He was used to losing people - it came with being a soldier. But losing his best friend and their girl to someone they loved 70 years ago? That was a whole new level of pain. And while Bucky had learned to cope with grief quickly, he still found himself crying into his pillow at night, feeling more alone than ever.

But now, as he looked at y/n's unmoving figure, he realized just how much this loss had affected her. She hadn't even been able to take care of herself, let alone wash away the days' grime. Bucky sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair before mustering up a gentle smile.

He gently coaxed y/n into the shower, reminding her that she needed to take care of herself even though Steve was gone. The water cascaded down on her skin, numbing her senses and providing some semblance of relief from her overwhelming thoughts.

But even as she sat there in the cold water, all she could see was Steve's lifeless body. His eyes empty of the spark that used to light up when he teased her, his once bright smile now gone. She couldn't even begin to imagine how he died - was it at the hands of Thanos himself? Did he die while trying to save someone else? The possibilities were endless, but the pain of losing him remained constant.

As she sat lost in her thoughts, a gentle knock on the bathroom door brought y/n back to reality. She looked up briefly, her red eyes following the sound through the steamed-up glass shower door.

Y/n's body was submerged in the warm, comforting embrace of the shower. The water cascaded down her skin, washing away tears and worries that seemed to cling onto her every move. Bucky's soothing voice drifted through the curtain, a lifeline for her troubled mind. She felt a sense of relief and safety wash over her as he checked up on her, even though she hadn't spoken in days.

Finally, with a deep breath, she stepped out of the shower and into the steamy bathroom. Her towel, left folded by Bucky, awaited her and she hastily wrapped it around her body. Y/n ran her fingers through her damp hair and sighed.

Bucky's reassuring smirk greeted her as she emerged from the bathroom. He sat on her bed, his hands braced on the edge of the mattress, exuding an air of calmness and stability. "She's alive," he remarked playfully, referencing the long time y/n spent in the shower.

As y/n quickly dressed herself under the towel, Bucky respectfully kept his gaze elsewhere. His presence alone was enough to make y/n feel at ease, and she found herself grateful for his company.

"Do you want me to leave?" Bucky asked softly as he stood up to give y/n privacy.

"Wait," y/n's timid voice stopped him in his tracks. She took a breath before continuing, "Would you stay with me tonight? I don't know if I can be alone again..."

Without hesitation, Bucky climbed back into bed beside y/n and pulled her close to him. Their intertwined fingers lay over his chest, his metal arm providing a sense of strength and protection.

In the stillness of the room, only the faint whirring of Bucky's metal arm could be heard. Y/n finally mustered up the courage to ask about Steve's death, her words trembling with unshed tears.

"Bucky?" she spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper.

He hummed in response, his fingers gently playing with hers as he waited for her to continue.

"How did Steve...you know, die?" She bit through her tears, bracing herself for the answer.

Bucky's expression softened as he looked down at her, sensing her pain and fear. He took a deep breath before answering, his voice filled with sorrow and regret.

Bucky felt his stomach drop at her question, a heavy weight settling in the pit of his stomach. He hadn't expected her to ask about this now, when they were curled up on her bed, warmth and comfort surrounding them. The words stuck in his throat, refusing to come out as he tried to pry them loose.

"I-" he couldn't bring himself to lie. It would be cruel, especially to someone he cared for so deeply. She deserved to know the truth, no matter how much it hurt. "Y/n, Steve didn't- he didn't die." Bucky ground out through gritted teeth, feeling like his tongue was coated in sandpaper.

"W-what?" Y/n's voice trembled with shock, fear, hope, and anger all at once. She sat up quickly, turning around in his embrace to face Bucky. A scowl etched itself across her usually gentle features, marring her beautiful eyes with a hint of bitterness. "Then where is he?"

Bucky let out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes as he braced himself for her reaction.

"Bucky. Where is Steve?" Y/n's tone had shifted from confusion to coldness, something uncharacteristic for her. Bucky swallowed hard, but it did little to ease the tension that had settled between them. He watched as she folded her arms over her chest.

"Steve left, doll. He's not- he's not coming back." Bucky confessed, his face falling into his hands.

"What do you mean?" Y/n whispered brokenly, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. "Why isn't he coming back?"

"Because he left to be with Peggy, okay? He left us, y/n!" Bucky finally snapped, his own tears mingling with hers as they stained his flushed cheeks. The grief still lingered within him.

Y/n's expression mirrored the devastation she felt the day Bucky first told her Steve was gone. But this time, there was a spark of rage in her eyes.

"I don't understand, why would he-" Y/n's voice trailed off, unable to finish her question as the answer dawned on her.

"I don't either, doll. I miss him, but I also hate him for what he did. To me, to you, to us." Bucky's voice was barely above a whisper now, his eyes downcast as he picked at the hem of his shirt.

"I-" y/n began to speak before breaking off into a choked sob, falling back into Bucky's embrace.

Steve, her Steve, had become a selfish and misguided man. He had shattered their bond and left them both with broken hearts.

© CINABUNWANDA ⎯ do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Hiya Sugar,

You’re the newest goodey-goodey in town, aren’t ya? What am I sayin’, of course ya are! I already knew that! In fact I know a lot about’cha, you’d be real surprised.

At first, I didn’t think too much about there being another vigilante running amuck. To me it was the usual same ol’, same ol’ in Gotham. It wasn’t until we had our very first run in that had me wanting to take a real good look into ya. I had been with my former crappy Puddin’ at the time and we were planning to cause some havoc for B-man, but you showed up first. That didn’t stop us from causin’ you some trouble too but you were really somethin’. A good kinda somethin’! You surpassed both mine and my ex-Puddin’s expectations by a long shot, putting us in our place real quick before B-man even made an appearance. But when he did finally roll around, my shitty ex had the audacity to use me as a distraction so he could getaway, puttin’ me in peril.

I’ll be honest I was worried there for a bit. Sure I was all laughs about it until it set in that my Puddin wasn’t gonna save me then the panic came. I mean hanging off a 70 story building by the tippy tips of ya fingers will do that to ya, ya’know? (To be honest, I don’t even know if it really was 70 stories but it sure as hell felt like it.) But then the most marvelous thing happened! My grip gave way and I was startin’ to fall only for an arm to shoot out and catch me!

Now, I was fully expecting B-man or one of his little birdies being the one who got to me but imagine my surprise when I was met with a new face. A really nice lookin’ face too! (At least from what I could tell.) Your grip on me was real strong and firm but it felt gentle all the same. Ya pulled me up and looked me all over for any serious damage, askin’ if I was alright. You didn’t manhandle or be too rough with me whatsoever. In fact you were real gingerly in checking me over. You also weren’t yellin’ or shoutin’ at me either, instead you were speaking slow and soft to me. I remember your voice bein’ real nice to listen to too. In that moment I realized you truly were somethin’ different, a breath of fresh air compared to the rest of the heroes coming out of the woodworks in Gotham.

You were just so nice to me, even though we tried to kill ya and cause some psychological damage along the way (sort bout that by the way😅), but you were still worried about little ol’ me. I don’t even think B-man has ever been really genuinely concerned about my well-being before, at least not like you were, when my Puddin’s used me like a meat shield. If it weren’t for his no killing hangup he probably would have let me die plenty of times before. But you actually cared! I don’t know what exactly it was but somethin’ about ya that night made me feel all tingly and warm inside and I liked it. Then the next thing I knew you were gone chasing after B-man and my ex-Puddin’ leavin’ me feelin’ cold and alone. Ever since then I’ve been keepin’ a close eye on ya. Hell, I even dumped my Puddin’ right after that incident. Ya should have seen his face, thinkin’ I wasn’t serious only for him to come mopin’ around wantin’ me back. But I stood my ground. Besides, I already had my eye on somethin’ better. Or rather someone better.

Like I said before, I’ve been keepin’ my eye on ya since then and I’m so glad I did. Sure some people would call it “stalking” but I prefer to call it “closely admiring from a reasonable and legal distance”. Except those few times I did let myself into your place and took a peek around. I didn’t take anything though, at least nothing you’d notice but that’s not what’s important. What is important though is how much you’ve opened my eyes to new horizons beyond just stupid ol’ Joker and everything that has to do with him. I still do the odd crime here and there but they’re no way near the same extremes like they used to be. I only really do somethin’ bad when I know you’re on patrol and will for sure be the one to stop my shenanigans. Honestly, I just want the chance to see and talk to ya again. Don’t even get me started about all the times when I have caused mischief only for B-man or one of his birdies to be the one to show up instead of you. I’ve never felt so disappointed and upset before. All that time and effort only for some other big baddie or even a small petty criminal to take up your attention away from me. It really gets under my skin. Would I say I’m jealous though? Not really. Okay maybe a little but can ya blame me? After all this time I finally have somethin’ good in my life that’s gettin’ me to change perspective only to have to share it with others who have no intention on changin’ for anybody! They’re a waste of your time but I get that you gotta stick to your goodey-goodey schtick, that’s who ya are after all. But still it gets me feelin’ some type of way, and not in a good way either.

I can’t help that you’ve become something so prominent to me in such a short amount of time, although I know ya don’t know just how much ya truly mean to me. I’ve even started focusing on doing more good than bad, little by little ya’ know? Baby steps. You’re a good part of why I started leaning more towards being good but it was also due to another incident I got in. I won’t go into it but let’s just say it involved a lower criminal who just wouldn’t stop runnin’ his mouth about ya and I wasn’t havin’ any of it. I admit I may have gone a little overboard with getting my a point across but he deserved it. He had no right talkin’ about ya like that! Sure, he’ll probably never wake up from his coma and is in a permanent vegetative state but you can’t say he isn’t technically still alive. So at least I didn’t kill him kill him, right? Hey, what can I say this goodey stuff is still pretty new to me. At least I’m tryin’ my best. There was also some other stuff involved besides him bad mouthin’ ya but I can’t for the life of me remember what it was but I’m sure it also was well deserving of an ass kickin’.

Oh goodness gracious, look at me ramblin’ away as usual! Ya got that kind of affect on me, ya’know? But anyhoo, I should really end this letter before I start spillin’ all my beans. I need to keep some secrets to myself after all. But maybe I’ll get around to tellin’ ya those ones too when we’re much more acquainted. But don’t worry ya little ol’ head though, sugar, everythin’ will come to fruition in due time and the two of us will be together! I just gotta get a few of my duckies in a row before we take the plunge but it’ll all be worth it in the end and you’ll finally be all mine!

See ya soon, sugar! Don’t miss me too much though~ Before ya know it we’ll be makin’ up for all our lost time and really gettin’ to know each other! But until then I’ll leave ya with this and a few gifts I left behind for ya too!

Lots of lovin’,

Harley<3<3<3

P.s

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxooxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxooxoxoxoxooxoxoxxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxxxoxox~~~~

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Run, pretty girl, run Chapter 6

Summary:  Even with the safeguards put in place after the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., the remaining Avengers find themselves on the run after the American government falls into disarray.  The code word is sent, and they’re officially fugitives.  Bucky makes a run for the safe house set up for emergencies like this where the Avengers are told to meet up, but on the way saves the pregnant agent turned payroll specialist that he was partnered with.  Will they make it before she goes into labor?  Or at all?

Warnings: violence, pregnancy, childbirth, death of minor character, language, eventual smut

“Бегать”: run “Подтвердить” : confirmed “Enkosi”: thank you “Дома”: home “Добро пожаловать”: welcome

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Once they got back to the Avengers compound Y/N kept good on her threat and retired.  She had had enough, and losing her baby was the straw that broke the camel’s back.  Fury made sure that a hefty restitution was paid to her as a last ditch effort of goodwill.  Bucky followed her lead, though his retirement was much more of a headache, being an enhanced person who was on the main team of the Avengers.  As he finally finished his outgoing paperwork and he and Y/N got paid out on their pensions, he booked flights and got things in place for them.  

“You all packed, pretty girl?” he asked a few weeks later.

“Yep.  Though I wish you’d tell me where we’re going,” Y/N said, giving him a hesitant look.

“Don’t worry about it, Mamas,” he reassured her, kissing her cheek.  “You’re gonna love it.”

A few hours later they were on a plane, graciously provided by Stark Industries from Pepper.  Y/N relaxed against the large seat, her eyes fluttering shut as Bucky held her hand.  She had stopped bleeding from after childbirth, and her body was finally feeling better after all they’d gone through.  They hadn’t done anything more than kissing, which Bucky was fine with.  He was inexperienced after 70 some years under Hydra, and as much as he wanted her, he knew it would take time and healing before either of them might be ready.  That being said, as they got further and further away from the Avengers, the more relaxed and flirty she seemed.

On their descent Y/N became more jittery, trying to look out the window and see where they were.  “Uh uh, no peeking,” Bucky admonished her, taking her chin between his metal fingers and making her look at him.  He winked at her when she met his gaze and she bashfully smiled, blushing and looking away.  

“Come on, Buck, the suspense is killing me,” she whined.  

“Soon, Mamas, soon,” he murmured, grabbing her hand and kissing the back of it.

They landed and Bucky blindfolded her before they walked off, leading her carefully to an awaiting car that was quickly loaded with their luggage.  As the driver took them to their destination she never let go of his hand, squeezing it tightly in anticipation.  The car stopped and Bucky helped her out while the driver unloaded their bags and promptly drove off.

“Okay, it’s driving me nuts, where are we?” Y/N demanded.

Bucky chuckled as he started untying the blindfold.  “You,” he paused, kissing her ear and she gasped, “me,” he kissed her neck, “and a cocktail in Monaco,” he finished, kissing her shoulder and pulling the blindfold off.  Y/N blinked rapidly as she got used to the sun in her eyes, then looked up and gasped again.  They stood in front of a French villa that faced the neighboring sea.  The sun was setting, creating a rainbow collage that made the white walls of the villa look like they were glowing.  The borders of the house were covered in flower gardens and walking paths that circled around the back.  She looked around in shock and turned to face him.  “Well, technically Nice, France,” he said.  “But we’re taking a boat tour of Monaco tomorrow.”

Y/N squealed and jumped into his arms, hugging him tight around the neck.  “This is amazing, Bucky,” she said reverently as she pulled away and looked at him.  “We made it,” she whispered, leaning her forehead against his forehead.

“We made it,” he agreed, leaning in and kissing her lightly.  He led her inside and they took a tour of the house and grounds, watching the last bit of sunset before going inside and getting unpacked and settled for the night.  As he lay down in the bed of the main bedroom he sighed loudly, Y/N smiling at him as she exited the adjoining bathroom.  “I’m so tired,” he breathed.  “Long flights really take it out of me now.  My age is catching up with me,” he smirked at her.

Y/N huffed a laugh.  “Well, if it’s any consolation, you look incredible for 107,” she teased, laying down next to him, propped up on her elbow.

Bucky laughed, turning to face her.  “Oh really?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Oh yes,” she said, reaching out and tracing the tip of her finger down his nose.  “You live up to your name, hot stuff.”

Bucky blushed and fought an oncoming smile.  “Big words from the prettiest girl,” he retorted.

Y/N rolled her eyes.  “I don’t know about prettiest,” she said.

Bucky scoffed.  “You are,” he said earnestly.  He took her hand and started kissing it all over the back of her hand to her knuckles to her fingers.  “My pretty girl,” he mumbled into her palm.  He started kissing up her wrist to her arm, continuing to pepper featherlight kisses up to her shoulder and into the crook of her neck, making her lay back as he hovered over her, his metal hand gripping her hip.  Y/N sighed as he worshiped her skin, her fingers gripping the blankets beneath her.

As he sucked on a sensitive spot he found weeks earlier near her ear she moaned.  “God, Bucky…” she breathed.

He smiled against her jaw.  “Yes?” he asked.

She reached up and ran her fingers through his hair, tugging at the strands and making him inhale sharply.  “I’m still waiting on that cocktail,” she murmured in a teasing tone.

Bucky laughed into her neck as she shook with laughter under him.  “Whatever my pretty girl wants,” he murmured, nipping at her earlobe, making her squeal.  “Though I can’t promise I’ll be any good at it.”

“Have you never made a cocktail before?” Y/N asked, looking at him in surprise.

Bucky grimaced.  “Uh….no?” 

She rolled her eyes and pushed him off of her.  “Okay, let’s go,” she grunted as she stood up from the bed and headed out the room.

Bucky quickly followed her out to the kitchen where a bar was nearby facing the view of the ocean.  Y/N walked behind the bar and started rummaging through the small drink fridge, pulling out different bottles.  She pulled out two glasses from the wall and loaded some ice into them before turning back to the bottles.  “Have you ever had an Aperol Spritz?” she asked.

“No,” he said, watching her intently.

Y/N smirked as she started showing him what to do.  Bucky loved watching her hands confidently grabbing the bottles and pouring them, adding the bitters and mixing everything together.  She finished with a slice of an orange in each glass then handed it to him.  “You, me, and a cocktail in Monaco,” she said, holding up her glass.

Bucky smiled.  “Saluti,” he said, clinking his glass against hers.  Y/N smiled and sipped her drink while he took his first drink.  He hummed as the taste slipped across his tongue, his eyes narrowing at the drink.  “Wow, that’s…that’s really nice,” he said.

“Right?” she said, her smile widening.

“You’re really good at this,” he said.  “Where did you learn to make drinks?”

“Well I wouldn’t say an Aperol Spritz is hard,” she scoffed.  “But, funny story, I was undercover for a while before being partnered up with you,” she said, putting her drink down and lifting herself up onto the counter of the bar to sit.  “I was gathering intel on a nationalist group that was trying to partner with the Flag Smashers after the Blip,” she continued, taking another sip.  “Thankfully, people like Karli Morgenthau were at least sensible enough to not want to associate with racists,” she cocked an eyebrow at him.  Bucky huffed, nodding as he remembered Karli and the Flag Smashers that he and Sam fought with a few years ago.  “I worked as a bartender in the bar the nationalists met at,” she said.  “Had to blend in.  Most of the drinks were easy, but for the odd cocktail every once in a while I had to look like I knew what I was doing, so I was trained in making drinks.”

“How did that mission end?” he asked.

“Oh, I just gave over intel and washed my hands of it when it was over,” Y/N said, downing the rest of the drink.  “I heard that it was a quick clean up.”

“Good,” Bucky smirked.  “What were you doing until we got partnered up?”

“Small missions,” she shrugged.  “That’s unfortunately how I met Tim.”  Bucky’s mouth tightened at the mention of the disappearing baby daddy.  Y/N looked down, her hands gripping the counter.  She was quiet for a moment, and Bucky quickly downed his drink before stepping toward her and between her legs.  He ran his hands from her wrists to her shoulders then up to her neck, his fingers under her jaw making her lift her head up to look at him.  She looked sad as she gazed up at him.  “I thought he loved me, you know?” she whispered.  Bucky nodded.  “He was really intimidated by me working with the Avengers,” she continued, a small lopsided smile breaking through.  “Especially working with you.”

Bucky scoffed.  “Really?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she nodded.  “He didn’t like how well we partnered together.”  

Bucky couldn’t help but smile widely.  “How insecure,” he murmured, his thumbs tracing along her jaw.

“Though I guess he wasn’t wrong,” she ventured, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Why do you say that?” he asked, leaning forward and rubbing his nose along her nose.

“Because we’re here,” Y/N whispered, her hands leaving the counter to reach forward and grip his shirt.  “And he’s not.”

Bucky kissed the tip of her nose and started rubbing his nose and lips across different parts of her face.  “Do you remember how after he left, I was so angry,” he muttered, slotting his hips between hers and against the counter further, “and I disappeared for a few hours?”  Y/N nodded, her hands moving up from his stomach to his chest.  “He never made it out of the state,” he said, a bitter tone to his voice as he tilted her head and his lips skimmed along her cheek to her earlobe, continuing what he was doing earlier.

“What did you do?” she whispered.

“You don’t wanna know,” he whispered, then licked her neck up to her ear, and she squirmed and moaned into his ear.  “You like that, Mamas?” he said.  “You like that I would do anything for you?  That I would kill for you?  That I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you?”  Her breath stuttered at that revelation.  “That even though I had a hard time trusting people, I knew I could trust you…with my life, my love, my heart?  That I’ve loved you since our first mission together, and you patched me up so tenderly?”

Y/N sniffled and he pulled back.  Her face was a look of desire, but there were tears streaming out the sides of her eyes.  “Yes,” she groaned.  “Yes, I like that.”

Bucky bit back a shit-eating grin.  “What do you want, pretty girl?”

“You,” she sighed.  “I want you.  All over me.  All around me.  Please, love,” she begged, which made Bucky’s brow furrow and his jaw tighten.  “I love you,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down.  

Just before their lips met he groaned.  “I love you,” he murmured, then kissed her hard.  

Y/N damn near climbed him like a tree, pushing herself up off the counter and into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist as one of her hands gripped the hair at the back of his head and tugged while licking along his lower lip.  Bucky whimpered as he turned and carried her back to the bedroom, his fingers digging into her hips.  When he finally got back to the bed he set her on it without breaking apart, sliding her up the bed until he was able to start to thrust against her hips, dry humping into her as his hands slid up her sides, pausing near her breasts.  

“Please, Buck,” she said, removing her hands from him and reaching down to start pulling her shirt off.

Bucky gasped as she revealed herself to him.  He had seen her breasts from their awkward mastitis encounter before, but getting to see them in this way was completely different.  “So pretty, Mamas,” he moaned before dipping his head down and licking at her nipple.  Her back arched, pushing her breast up into his mouth, and he sucked at her nipple fervently as his fingers played with the other one.  Y/N took off his shirt next, hastily pulling it up and over his head and flinging it across the room.  Her hands then massaged over him from his shoulders, down his arms and across his chest.  As he switched his mouth to her other nipple she lifted her head up and started kissing along the wound that connected his metal arm to his body.  It made him shudder, releasing her nipple as he gasped against her skin.  

“Fuck, Y/N,” he breathed.  “So sweet to me.”  His fingers traveled down to her hips, pulling at the hem of her shorts and underwear and looking up at her.  She nodded and he pulled them off down her legs.  She was already wet, her pussy glistening as he stared down at her.  “Goddamn,” he muttered.  “Can I taste you, Mamas?  Please?”

“Yes, please,” she replied, spreading her legs further apart.  

Bucky smiled and positioned himself to lay down between her legs.  He hooked her thighs around his arms as he kissed her inner thighs up to the crease between her leg and her pussy lips.  He gave her a broad-tongue lick up her slit, making her gasp loudly.  Bucky hadn’t done this in a very long time, but he followed his instincts and did what felt good, watching her reactions and noting what made her squirm more.  Her fingers grasped his hair, holding his head against her as he ate her out with desperation.  Y/N’s legs began to shake as he sucked hard on her clit before releasing it with a loud slurping sound.  As he gazed up at her he noticed the scar near her navel where the doctors had removed her baby.  He moved his head up and kissed it tenderly.  She stiffened at his actions, her fingers relaxing in his hair and scratching his scalp gently.  He kissed along the entire scar before kissing back down to her clit.  Y/N looked down at him, the tears returning at his tenderness.  He returned to licking her clit, this time not as desperate or frenzied, but more intentional and purposeful.  Within moments she threw her head back and moaned as she came, her hips jerking against his face as he helped her ride through her first orgasm.  “Good girl,” he said, licking up her cum.  

Bucky lifted himself back up and moved to hover over her, dipping his head down and kissing her.  Y/N moaned at the taste of herself on his lips, her hands reaching down to start pushing his pants down.  Bucky pulled away and watched her eagerly slip her fingers past the top of his boxers and dip down to grip his cock.  He lightly gasped at how her hand felt wrapped around him, his hips jerking against her.  “You gonna make me feel good, hot stuff?” she teased, giving him a wry smile.  

Bucky nodded, his mouth agape as she gave his cock lazy pumps with her hand.  He quickly slipped his pants and boxers off then reached for something in his pants pocket.  “Let’s be sensible about this,” he muttered, pulling out a condom.  He opened it and rolled it on himself as Y/N stared down at his cock.  “Even though I’d love for you to have my babies,” he teased back as he settled between her legs again.

Y/N looked shocked at his words, but a small smile lit up her face.  “You wanna have babies…with me?” she asked.

“Of course I do,” Bucky said incredulously.  He gripped his cock in his metal hand and slowly rubbed it between her lower lips, coating himself in her cum, making her shiver.  “I want it all with you.”  He aimed himself at her entrance and slowly started to push in.  She moaned at the stretch he gave her, her hands gripping onto his shoulders.  He kept going until he was fully seated inside her, his hips fully flushed with her hips.  He sighed heavily as she enveloped him, her grip loosening on his shoulders and her hands smoothing down his arms.  “I want you to be my girlfriend,” he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek as he gave her time to adjust to him.  “I want to make you my wife,” he continued, kissing her other cheek.  Y/N hummed as he kissed the tip of her nose.  “I want you to have my babies,” he smiled.  “I want to live the rest of my life with you.  All I want is you, pretty girl,” he smiled, kissing her lips.  

Y/N wrapped her legs around his hips, squirming against him.  “I’m all yours, Bucky,” she said.  “All I want is you.”

Bucky couldn’t stop smiling.  He pulled his hips back and then thrust back into her.  Y/N’s mouth dropped open in a silent moan.  “Mine,” he moaned as he continued to slowly thrust back and forth.  

Y/N’s hands moved back up his arms, shoulders, along his neck until she was cupping his face.  She brought him close to her face and rubbed her nose along his.  “Mine,” she said.

They both smiled at each other as Bucky kissed her again, his hips never stopping.  His pace picked up speed as he dug an arm under her neck to hold her closer, his kisses moving from her mouth to her neck, nibbling along her throat to her ear.  Y/N’s nails scratched down his back, making him snap his hips harder into her and she moaned loudly.  “Fuck yes!” she yelped.  “Do that again!”

Bucky huffed a laugh against her cheek.  “You like it hard, Mamas?” he asked, giving her another snap.  Y/N squeaked, her eyes shut tight and nodded frantically.  

“Yeah…please Buck…hard and fast…just keep calling me that,” she said, opening her eyes and looking down between them where they met.

“Oh really?” he teased, pulling out until only the tip of his cock was inside her.  She looked up at him in annoyance, her hips wriggling to try to make him push back in.  “You like being called my pretty girl?” he asked.  Y/N nodded, her face scrunching up with desire.  “Or do you like Mamas better?” he asked, giving her a quick snap of his hips.  

She shrieked, her fingers scratching him harder.  “Shit!  Bucky please…”

“Answer me, Y/N,” he instructed, nipping at her lower lip and sucking on it.

Y/N was nearly shaking beneath him.  “Mamas,” she whispered, licking at his mouth that was still holding her lip.  

Bucky smirked as he released her lip.  “I knew it,” he chuckled.  He braced his knees more on the bed then started pounding into her at a frenzied pace.  Y/N gasped, her head wrenching back against the bed.  Her breaths and moans came out faster and more high pitched, her arms wrapping around his back.  Bucky kept himself close to her, wanting to feel her skin against his as much as possible.  “I’m close, Mamas…fuck,” he groaned.  “You gonna cum for me again?”  Y/N nodded, biting her lip as she looked up at him.  “Shit, you can’t look at me like that,” he moaned, closing his eyes.  

Y/N’s fingers scratched up his back again then around his sides to his chest, up his neck and then tangled into his hair, scratching his scalp.  “Let me see those pretty eyes, hot stuff,” she murmured, her voice coming out airy and seductive.  Bucky opened his eyes, his breathing getting heavier as he looked down at her.  His hips started to roll against hers, and it made her eyes slightly roll as she swallowed harshly.  “I love you,” she breathed, then kissed him like she’d never kissed him before.

Bucky whimpered, his metal hand sneaking between them and his middle finger flicking her clit fast.  “I love you,” he mumbled against her lips.  Y/N whimpered, then her orgasm crashed over her.  She stiffened, her legs locking behind him, her fingers ripping at his hair as she came with a muffled scream against his lips.  Bucky grunted as her pussy clamped down on him, and within two more rolls of his hips he was cumming, a long, deep groan reverberating in his chest.  

They panted against each other as they came down from their highs, Bucky dropping his head into the crook of her neck, lazily kissing her collarbone.  “Goddamn, Mamas,” he mumbled.  Y/N giggled, her legs starting to relax and release him.  “You’re so good,” he continued.  “Feel so good…god I love you…”

Y/N softly ran her fingers through his hair as he lifted his head to look at her.  She had a lazy smile on her face, her eyelids half drooped as she breathed deeply and looked up at him.  “Heya hot stuff,” she muttered.

Bucky smiled.  “Hey pretty girl,” he said.  

Y/N sighed.  “Thank you,” she breathed.

“For what?” he asked.

“For this,” she replied, cupping his face in her hands.  “For taking me here.  For doing all you could to keep me and Grant safe.  For being my partner, my best friend,” she said, her thumbs swiping across his cheeks.  “For loving me.  Thank you for everything.”

Bucky shook his head with a small smile.  “And I’d do it a million times over,” he said, kissing the tip of her nose.  “Anything for you, Mamas.”

@vioplay19 @mrsnikstan @scott-loki-barnes @tufflepuff23 @itsmytimetoodream

[deansmom]

Everytime I point out that Dean Winchester is autistic, people get mad or look at me like I’ve spontaneously grown a second head, as if this man’s existence isn’t just checking off boxes for the diagnostic criteria

Special interests: westerns, cars, mechanical engineering stuff in general, 1960’s & 70’s music - specifically classic rock, monsters. You’re gonna look me in the eyes and tell me that it’s totally normal for someone who was born in 1979 to have borderline encyclopedic knowledge of two decades of music????? Hundreds of years of monster lore??? — for fuck’s sake, he had a train thing when he was little!!!! Those are special interests!!!!

Restricted diet: it’s mostly for Jokes but dean genuinely doesn’t eat much beyond burgers, diner food and pie.

Dean didn’t speak for months after Mary died and there’s 15 years of canon evidence where he loses his voice during moments of Big Emotions!!! He’s going nonverbal!!!!!!!

Trouble with social cues: literally look at every single instance of Dean trying to interact with strangers, ESPECIALLY in the early seasons. He’s not playing dumb, he just doesn’t get it. Also, watch any scene of this man TRYING to flirt and tell me that he’s any good at it. You know why? That bitch is mimicking the fucking movies and tv shows he grew up watching.

Sensory processing disorder: DO YOU THINK HE WEARS 87 LAYERS FOR FUN???? FOR FASHION????? WHAT DID YOU THINK ALL THE FLANNELS WERE ABOUT. THEY’RE SOFT. Also think about how much he liked the nightgown and the robe. ALSO, ALSO: school!!! It’s loud, it’s smelly, it’s dirty (his germ thing), the lights are too bright, there’s too much sensory input happening at one time. Between being so overwhelmed in school that he couldn’t focus and John pulling him left & right for cases and Sam, no wonder dean dropped out :(

14.04. The comic book episode is an ENTIRE episode about dean and his special interests!!!!!! And his social anxiety, hiding out in his room at the beginning of the episode because of all the strangers in his home 😤

Emotional regulation problems: those angry outbursts?? Destroying the Impala??? LOOK ME IN THE EYES AND TELL ME THATS NOT A MELTDOWN

His whole personality is a mask! He based his whole life and personality around the men he grew up around! John, Bobby, the other hunters - we all know that dean isn’t this rugged manly man he puts on. Sure people can have layers, but my man literally wore his dad’s actual jacket for fucking years

Black & white thinking: this doesn’t need anything else tbh

Strong sense of Justice: “how many people do you have to save?” “All of ‘em. Whole wide world of sports.”

Literal thinking: half the show is about how they both have to learn to look at monsters and not immediately go “monsters bad.” Also literal thinking is hard to explain, but I promise he does this.

Hyperlexic: “what? I read?”

“Too blunt”: all those times you thought “that was kinda harsh Dean” or “wtf that was so mean” - he doesn’t like lying to people when he doesn’t have to!

Hyper empathy: “The baby in the well? My bad.” “I do my best to be brave.” Sacrificing himself for people over and over again. The djinn episode and the speech he makes in front of John’s grave. His whole life he’s been told he cares too much!!!!

As a fellow AuDHD bitch, the most AuDHD thing Dean has ever said was “we know a little about a lot of things. Just enough to make us dangerous.” Also: “I got no idea. But what I do have is a GED and a give ‘em hell attitude, and I’ll figure it out.”

Like I could dive into the nuances of all of these and explain them in great detail and find textual evidence for basically everything, but it’s too early in the morning for that much work when I know that I’m right. Yeah he has adhd, obviously, but I will eat my left hand if that man isn’t autistic.

[verdemoun]

Dutch Motherfucking Van Der Linde in timewarp au.

@themodernpr0metheus because this is your fault be warned it's 1400+ words

so much to process. every single damned character in timewarp is affected by the very idea what became of Dutch Van Der Linde again let alone how they're meant to handle it when Dutch comes back. also gentle reminder that in the report the bureau wrote that John shot and killed Dutch so that's a whole other conflict they're going to have to deal with

also for the 1899 gang it's been 12 years. honestly for most of them it's been 12 years the only person who really interacted with dutch after 1899 was Micah and Dutch fucking shot him. Micah is still salty about it. look at that rat man you know he can hold a grudge.

12 years, no Dutch. Hosea's nearing his 70s, he has his wife and a house. Lenny, Jenny, Karen and Sean aren't kids anymore they're well into adulthood with legitimate jobs. Arthur and Charles are the new curious couple with Isaac their unruly son. Kieran doesn't jump or flinch anymore when people try to talk to him. Hosea really got everything he wanted - they're out of the gang, they're safe and happy.

Also Dutch isn't the only one coming back in a relatively short time period. They have to go all the way to Mexico to get Javier and Bill. They have to get John!! John, who was shot at the house Charles and Uncle helped him build for Abigail, who stared down a firing squad because it gave Abigail and Jack time to escape. They absolutely have to be there for John.

Hosea thinks long and hard. Dutch: who left Lenny to bleed out alone, who was willing to leave John to be executed in prison, and left Arthur to die alone, and abandoned Javier and Bill. Dutch: who formed another gang and killed innocents, used Muriel Scranton as a human shield before shooting her IT WOULD HAVE BEEN MORE OF A DISTRACTION TO LET HER GO ALIVE DUTCH. Is it everything he feared would happen to Dutch? Is it the Dutch he started to see glimpses of after Blackwater or did he know, deep down, this is what Dutch was always capable of?

What's the pettiest, bitchest thing he can do? Absolutely nothing. Hosea Matthews sits down with the gang trying to prepare for the 1911 returns and says that he is not going to get Dutch Van Der Linde. He is not going to see Dutch, talk to Dutch or help Dutch. Dutch is not welcome in his home or near his family and he doesn't expect nor want any of them to afford him the luxury of coming into their lives.

Annabelle is the one who goes to collect Dutch from the base of a cliff. The last time Annabelle saw Dutch, he was young and idealistic, and she had to read about Blackwater and everything that came after it right up to his death. She needs to see him so she can understand how someone she did genuinely love became something so evil that the people who did love him had to sit down and seriously ask themselves if he could be redeemed.

And Dutch Van Der Linde hits her with the 'you're as beautiful as the day I lost you'

She so nearly, nearly faulters. God as much as she hates him she wants to believe there is a reason, a sound, logical reason how Dutch abandoned so much of the ideals that made him Dutch. It's a tremendous burden only people who have loved Dutch know but deep down there's always a part of you that will love Dutch, as much as you try to kill it. She desperately wanted to believe she as the oldest, the most separated from Dutch, she was over it - but it's there. That awful demon is clawing its way back into her mind as she wonders if she can fix him, if she can save him and make him something recognizable again.

She knows damn well this is why Hosea knew he couldn't be the one to get Dutch.

Remembering why she has to be the one to get Dutch, to protect the gang she is now part of again and cares so much about from falling into the very real, intoxicating charm of Dutch, she holds her ground. Pulls away and tells him to get in the back seat of the car.

She takes him to a very nice, private, well-researched, pre-booked and thoroughly inspected in-patient mental health ward. the gang themselves have argued whether or not Dutch did the things he did because he was mentally ill or hit his head too many times or if he would've become a monster regardless but they do agree something is not right with Dutch and frankly 24 hour medical supervision is probably something he needs regardless because no one wants to just… bring him into the homes and lives they've tried to hard to build in modern era.

i promise, dutch is thriving. the d in dsm-5 might stand for dutch once the doctors are through with him but he's getting diagnosed with A lot.

they're paid to listen to him so he's going on so many rants and giving speeches and they're sitting there listening and nodding and asking questions (as they frantically write notes) and he's just basking in the attention. -> this. this is dutch's life

also dutch getting to finally admit to and work through his grief over what happened to the gang. he saw the old guard die. he lost so many people he cared about. he lost john. john left. john would've moved on completely after micah's death if not for the bureau. and the gang did lose faith in him, even before then. he felt it, he knew it. they did betray him (in his warped sense of betrayal)

also just dutch getting into intense philosophical and ethical debates with both his doctors and other patients. his doctors knowing they are absolutely not meant to engage when dutch is on a rant but it's just so fun debating with him

medication does help get Dutch back to something closer to 'old Dutch' he's still very grandiose but he's calmed down to the point he isn't reckless he can recognize when his behavior is crossing into outlandish

it's inevitable the gang do reach out to him and find it personally terrifying how close they can get to forgiving him before they remember all the shit they went through as a direct result of Dutch's actions

occasionally take him out on day trips but he is not getting to the point where he can be left to roam freely. Dutch always was and always will be a dangerous person when he can morally justify it to himself.

Dutch reuniting with Hosea hits so hard. hosea can only avoid him so long and dutch is old and tired and pulls hosea into a hug on the verge of tears and hosea cannot stop himself from hugging dutch back he still loves him god damnit he loves his wife but he will always love dutch and seeing dutch get help and try to become his old self again would hurt so much in such a positive way

his doctors (who have searched dutch van der linde and now think Dutch has delusional disorder and only thinks he is the Dutch Van Der Linde) do not think he has actually committed murder but the gang know he is very, very capable of murder

dutch is an avid triple mango vape enthusiast. no one knows how he keeps getting them.

he still thinks everything would be fine if they just went to tahiti

he is the #1 evelyn miller fan and thinks evelyn miller's death is further proof of his brilliance. during supervised computer time he will be on the evelyn miller subreddit and sometimes needs to be forcibly removed from the computer because he becomes so enraged at bad takes

the gang are all very protective of their kids being around dutch when he is there (including micah who does not want his stupid annoying pain in the ass grand-nephew kai to become Dutch-ified) but somehow they managed to raise well-rounded young people who just shrug and go 'lmao dutch is talking again'

dutch goes on volunteering excursions for habitat for humanity (under annabelle's supervision) and thoroughly enjoys it. he gradually becomes less 'fight the system for the good of all man' and more 'focus on the good i can do in one (second-chance) lifetime'. all i want is aged dutch in the modern version of his 1911 outfit kneeling in muck and smiling because he's Actually helping people again and he didn't know how much he missed it

[kenny-the-ken]

Save the Date

Aged up readers, Y/N is 17, Kenny is 18. All in high school. Mentions of drugs, alcohol, sexual themes and strong language. NOT FOR MINORS!! I hope you all enjoyed my first fic, it was written while running after my 2 year old who throws WAY too many tantrums so sorry if it wasn't my greatest work!

Kenny watched you from across the classroom, he watched how you twiddled your pen between your thumb and forefinger, how you the tip of your tongue darted out of your mouth as you concentrated on what you were writing. Your perfect y/h/c hair flowing in soft waves that cascaded down your back. He had fallen, and he had fallen hard.

Both of you were inseparable, the best of friends, you did everything together, albeit not much, because neither of you could afford to go a lot of places. He loved nothing more than laying down beside you in your bed with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, you were the one of the only people that knew he was Mysterion, you were one of the very lucky few who had seen him without his orange parka hood suffocating his face. But the most important to him, you were the only one to remember, the first time he died in front of you, you were shattered to a million pieces, your heart completely broken, and the only thing that could ever fix it was Kenny coming back alive, not like that could ever happen.

But it did, and when you heard a small knock on your front door all those years ago, opening it to see those beautiful blue eyes and fluffy blonde hair standing smiling at you, your face covered in smeared black lines of mascara, he knew.

"Kenny?" You uttered, rubbing your eyes as if you were hallucinating, a glove clad hand reaching to cup your tear stained face, he just simply looked at you, tears now welling in his own eyes.

"You- You remember?" He asked, you giving him a small nod as his answer. You smiled, tears still falling down your face.

"Of course I remember, Kenny! You got hit by a bus and everyone shouted about how you'd been killed and then called them bastards!" You responded, before he grabbed you with both hands, saying nothing but pulling you close to him for the tightest hug you'd ever had.

"I'm so glad you remember. No one else does."

That day will stay forever engraved in his mind for as long as he was destined to be on this earth for. And he knew, he knew you were his one true soul mate. Yeah, Kenny had been with plenty of girls before, but none of them made him feel how you did, normally so confident in asking girls out, he was known as a flirt, but he had never been confident enough to ask you out. That was until today.

"Put your balls in your purse, Kinny!" Eric said to him, exiting the class watching you walking in front of him. He was half listening, half in a daydream about how good your ass looked in your jeans.

"Kenny? Hello? Earth to Kenny, are you even listening to us?!" Kyle said, waving his hands in the air in front of Kenny's face.

"Hey dude, I was getting a good view there!! Fuck you, man!" Kenny exclaimed, sighing as he seen you turn the corner in the corridor.

"Dude, you seriously gotta ask her out!" Stan said, the other two boys nodding in agreement.

"How, man? I don't have any money to take her places, what am I supposed to say, 'Hey Y/N wanna come to my house and see my shit bedroom, my mom and dad screaming at each other and our meth lab?!' She'd never go for a guy like me, dudes. And she deserves better than me." He said his head bowing to stare at the tiles of the corridor. His life really was a mess.

"And that's where the broship comes in, dude!" Eric exclaimed, the other boys staring at each other in confusion.

"I bet you $70 you won't ask her out by the end of the day!" Eric said, knowing Kenny couldn't pass up on money like that.

"And if you do, then the money will come in handy for a date right?" Eric said, a shit eating grin plastered upon his face.

"Fine." Kenny replied, saying nothing else before walking off to find you.

There you sat with the other girls, chatting about god knows what and eating your lunch. You could feel a pair of eyes burning through the back of your skull as you turned round, there he stood, your prince in an orange parka. You couldn't see it because of his hood, but he was smiling at you, and was that a blush on his cheeks?

You had serious love and feelings for Kenny, and you always had, but you knew he was a player, he had been with a lot of girls throughout the years, and he never ever chose you, maybe he just didn't see you that way.

He was nervous, a small bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. He made his way over to you.

"Is it hot in here, or is it just being so close to you, girl?" Kenny flirted, causing a small blush to spread along your cheeks.

"What's up, Kenny?" You asked, offering him the half of your sandwich, he normally didn't have much food to eat, so you liked to help when you could. He great-fully accepted the kind offer and then bowed his head slightly, taking on a rather unusual mannerism for him. Normally he was so confident and cocky, but right now, he looked like he might pass out.

And he felt like it too!! Maybe he could just die accidentally and come back tomorr- No! He has to do this! It was now or never.

"Can I- um... can I talk to you about something?" Kenny asked, his gloved hands fidgeting together.

"Of course, Ken, we can talk about anything together! Do you wanna head somewhere more private?" You asked, as he simply nodded in reply, taking off a glove and offering his hand to you.

"I rolled a joint I didn't get to smoke before school today, wanna dip and go to the park?" Kenny questioned, his eyebrow quirking, hoping you'd be down.

"I have Mr Garrison's class after lunch so fuck yeah I wanna dip. My mom isn't home as usual, said she was going to get drugs last night and hasn't came back, so we can go smoke up at my house if you want? I've got frozen pizza!" You exclaimed, a large smile on your face. You could never pass up quality time with Kenny, you both knew that.

"That sounds like absolute bliss, babe. But when we smoke up, I really do need to talk to you about something." He stated, your hands now fully intertwined. As you guys approached the double doors of the school you passed Eric, Kyle and Stan, the three boys staring at you both, wide eyed and mouths wide.

"Hey, fuck you Kinny!" Eric shouted, handing him $70. "Make it last! God knows when you'd be able to get $70 again, Kinny!" He shouted loudly, the blonde boy smirking and flipping him off on his way out the door.

"Fuck you, dude! I'll text y'all later." He shouted back, the doors finally closing behind you both.

The walk was long and cold to your house, since you lived in the same part of town as Kenny, and the school bus wasn't running, since technically school was still in session. During the walk Kenny had shedded his jacket, putting it on you instead, making sure you didn't catch sick and kept warm in the never ending snow that resided in South Park.

Soon enough you were both in your bedroom, the window cracked slightly as Kenny sparked his lighter, taking a long, slow drag of the joint before passing it to you.

"So, what did you wanna talk about? Has your dad gone psycho again?" You asked, taking a few drags of the joint and passing it back to Kenny, your hands grazing slightly, and when you two touched, it felt electric.

He shook his head no. "No, for once it's not my parents." He laughed out, smoke coming down his nostrils.

"Then what's wrong, Ken?" You asked eyebrows raised as your studied your best friends face. He had a light dusting of freckles, soft, pale skin and the most perfect, light pink lips and of course you couldn't forget the adorable little gap in his teeth when he smiled at you. You were in love, you had been in love with him for as long as you could remember.

His hands were ice cold, the blood not reaching them due to the speed his heart was beating at.

"I um... I-" He stuttered, his cheeks a deep shade of crimson, as he quickly puffed on the joint you two shared, passing it to you, he should've asked if you had any vodka here that he could take a shot of, a little Dutch courage, but it was too late, he was already sitting here, your full attention on him as he became a stammering mess.

He took his gaze away from you before he said it, he actually had finally said it to you, and he did so as quickly as the words would come out of his mouth.

"Do you maybe wanna, I don't know, bemygirlfriend? I mean, only if you want to! If you don't, I totally understand, I wouldn't wanna be with me either, I mean, you deserve the world and I can barely afford to feed myself-"

You cut him off by grabbing the front of his t-shirt and pulling him towards you, your lips crashing against one another. You had waited for this since you were younger, you had always dreamed of being his, being his girl. And now you were!

His eyes fluttered closed, melting against you and wrapping his slender arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him on the bed. He had dreamt about this, he had wanked about this! More than once! He'd thought about how your boobs looked without any clothing covering them, how your nipple would feel in his mouth, how hard he could slap your ass, how tight you would feel around his coc-

You both parted ways, panting as you did, a string of salvia connecting your mouths. Both of you were blushing profusely, and Kenny shifted on the bed, feeling the tightness in his jeans starting to bother him.

"I've wanted to do that since the fourth grade." You said, almost in a whisper, only for Kenny to hear.

"Then let's go use this $70 fat ass gave me and I'll take you on our first official date!" Kenny said, a small smile on his lips as he kept his arms wrapped tightly around you, as if a gust of wind could blow you away from him.

"I love you, Kenny McCormick."

"I love you too, Y/N, and I always have." Kenny sighed, the relief he felt come crashing over him. He no longer had to keep it a secret, he loved you, and you loved him, and that was all the mattered. You made him want to stay alive, you made him happy, and you made him whole. I guess soul mates really do exist.

Hey guys!! I really hope you enjoyed this fic, I just kinda banged it out and I haven't checked any spelling or typos, so I'm really sorry about that, I just hope you all enjoy it. Kenny's a cute lil fluff, and I love writing for him, but I'll write for anyone from South Park so if you guys have any suggestions or requests please do send them my way!!

[missluthorwillseeyounow]

hello hello! love your fics!!!

🌤️ for the ask game please? :D

Thank you so much!!! ☺️ Okay these aren't exactly dialogue, but I'm in a sharing mood lol. This first one is from my Get Away Driver AU.

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"Thank you for helping us." The other person's voice is female, and sounds almost familiar to Kara. "We've been suspecting that Lex Corp has been experimenting on aliens for some time now, but we've never had the proof. And an extraction would have been next to impossible with all the red tape. You saved her life, Lena. She's going to be okay now, thanks to you.”

"Aren't you forgetting someone, Director Danvers?" Maggie slinks out of the driver's seat with a smirk.

"Maggie?" There's a cough and a splutter from outside the car. At the same time, Kara nearly cracks her neck straining to look out her window.

"Danvers?" Kara scrambles to get out of the car. "Alex??”

"Kara??" Her sister's shocked face, nearly as red as her hair, pops up from behind Lena. "What the hell? Luthor, you dragged my sister into this?”

Both Kara and Lena raise their voices at the same time.

"Your sister—??"

"...Luthor?"

From her perch against the driver's side door, Maggie's snickers, her amused gaze bouncing like a tennis ball between all three of them. She looks like she's ready to pull out some popcorn and watch the show.

"Now this just got more interesting.”

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This 2nd one is not from a WIP so much as a post finale crack fic idea, where Lena and Andrea were friends with another girl from boarding school named Di, who comes over for a visit. This is Di:

Kara has seen soft Lena, but never loose-limbed, loose-lipped Lena who laughs more freely as she and "Di" and "Andy" recall old memories of things Kara was never a part of and never knew.

"Remember when we snuck out that one weekend and got your tramp stamp?"

"Oh, my God, don't remind me!"

"Sister Margaret almost found out because you were making this weird face the whole week!"

"I was in pain! That was my first tattoo!"

First? Just how many tattoos does Lena have? It takes everything in Kara not to use her x-ray vision to find out.

At some point during the evening, Di produces a joint with a twinkle in her eye. "You've never seen Lena high before, have you?"

Lena's eyes widen. "Oh, no. No no no."

Di's smile is sweet and all trouble as she turns to the rest of the group. "You'll love her. She's lovely when she's high."

Alex, Kelly and Nia laugh, but Lena shakes her head. "I get weird when I'm high."

"You get loose when you're high." Di points a finger at her. "And trust me, baby, you need to get loose. You're wound so tight, you're like Sister Agatha before Parents Day."

Kara interjects with a huff. "I don't think Lena should do anything she doesn't want to do."

And Kara glares at Di, a pout forming on her face. But Di ignores her and turns her big, wide eyes on Lena "Please, sweetheart. Pleeease?"

"Fine!" Lena's always been a sucker for a sweet blonde. She sighs and rolls her eyes with a laugh. "Unfair. You know I never could say no to you."

Kara thinks Di is just gonna pass Lena a joint, but instead, Di takes the joint she's been smoking out of her mouth, presses a kiss to the end of it and holds it up to Lena's face. To Kara's surprise, Lena leans forward and lets Di place the joint on her own lips.

Kara's face heats up as she watches Lena's lips wrap around the spot where Di had kissed it, and she feels distinctly uncomfortable. She wants to snatch the joint away and stamp it out with her foot.

Except she doesn't, because Lena does get progressively more relaxed the more she inhales, and it is nice to see Lena unwind, especially after the tough week she's had.

They get to talking about their teenage experiences, and even Alex and Nia and Kelly chime in. And at one point, Di asks Lena if she still has the old records they used to play, and insists that they play old 70's female rock on Lena's turntable (since when did Lena have a turntable? Kara didn't even know she had one).

Andrea pipes up. "This reminds me so much of those weekend afternoons when we used to play this in our room. You used to dance around to this song in Di’s sweater, Lena, you remember that?"

Lena’s cheeks turn bright red.

And Di jumps up. "Oh, my God, do you still have it?"

Lena rolls her eyes. "No!"

Di cackles in laughter "Liar! I'm gonna look in your closet, and if you still have it, you have to put it on!"

Andrea grins evilly. "And! You have to do it just like you used to!"

"Andy! I'm not gonna dance around in my underwear and a sweater. We're not fifteen anymore."

Kara chokes on her beer and her brain blanks out. Lena used to dance around in her underwear? Lena Luthor? Her best friend?

"Nope, that's the rules."

Lena keeps protesting, but even Alex gets in on it. "Nope, I wanna see this too, Luthor. What is this you guys are talking about?"

"I found it!" Di yells from Lena's closet. Kara is fuming that she just roots around Lena's things like she owns them.

She emerges, throwing a bulky sweater at Lena. 

"This is the ugliest thing I've ever owned."

"Shut up and pay up, Lena. Put it on."

"That was Di's old sweater. Lena kept stealing it from her when we were kids, and whenever she got high, Lena would strip to her panties and dance around in that sweater."

Both Kara and Alex simultaneously choke on their drinks. "Oh my GOD!"

[fukia]

Fun Peanuts character facts

Linus

Linus used to say “Bang” a lot before he could really talk, mostly to mess with his sister (ie, respond to her pestering) or deal with other people

He gave Violet a bundle of French fries wrapped with a rubber band once…

has a weird set of otherworldly abilities; blowing cubed balloons, talking to leaves (stars too), asking a beachball to return from the ocean if I recall correctly, petting birds and getting them to like him

Linus gets increasingly stronger and more blunt/threatening towards Snoopy for constantly trying to take his blanket

Linus wants to be a doctor most of the time

Offered to shared his blanket with Charlie a few times

Kissed Peppermint patty on the cheek to comfort her; “Like this, sweetie?”

Kissed Frieda’s hand after she expressed that carrying a blanket around isn’t a bad thing

He gives a girl named Eudora his blanket because her smile was cute - he regrets it and fails to retrieve it himself - she kisses him on the cheek, calling him a “sweet babboo” - Eudora is Sally’s friend lol

Schroeder

Charlie introduced piano & Beethoven to him

As a baby, Charlie put him in front of a real piano (as opposed to his toy one) and he cried

He specifically said baseball is one of his loves, besides playing music & Beethoven

Found baby Linus fascinating as he resembled Beethoven

Before Lucy was obnoxious to him, he told Charlie that Lucy has beautiful eyes

Threatened to beat up Lucy if she scratches his piano with her elbows

When Lucy moved briefly, he missed her presence; some say it’s out of character, [I think he doesn’t miss her as a person at all but he does miss the routine of having someone who listens to his classical playing even if it’s for shallow reasons, idk I sorta relate]

Regularly listens to Charlie Brown’s venting back in the day

The one character who stands up for Charlie Brown (multiple times)

Spoke in agreement with the girls that Charlie looked cute surrounded by dandelions

Whatever subtext in that 70’s Blue Boy strip

Charlie Brown

Was briefly a couple (of sorts) with Violet

Violet had a weird mud pie era where she’d serve them to Charlie and Charlie would consume them

Enjoyed messing with the girls back in the day, I’d say he’s capable of being a subtle tease aged up

Has gone on a carnival date with Peppermint Patty

Often cheers up Linus and defends him from Lucy

Often defends and shows interest in Schroeder’s love of music - he went out of his way to save Schroeder’s piano from the kite-eating tree and the sewers after the nonsense Lucy pulled

Was the original one to lean on Schroeder’s piano, they often engage in actual, normal conversation

Often seen reading to Schroeder Beethoven’s biography or Mozart’s

Schroeder and Charlie Brown tried to play music together a few times but they could never find fitting music for the improvised instruments Charlie would bring

Makes conversation with the kite-eating tree; has offered to feed it a kite in defeat and also bit the tree out of revenge (the tree world fall in a following strip)

Has some sort of mommy thing goin on

“Poor, sweet baby”

Edited to add: Lucy has a weird thing for Charlie’s “toesies”

Sally

Started off kinda picked on by the other kids like her brother but grows up to be more assertive

Has a penchant for comedy

She talks to a fucking school building and it “talks” to her

The school building falls for her???

She talks to the new building after the previous one fucking collapses

Marcie

Had a guy named Floyd call her “lambcake” and cute

She thinks she’s not cute

When she’s angry, she hits well

Definitely has a fighting spirit and a stubbornness that flares up

Says she doesn’t like sports but does decently at it

Speaks fluent French

Edited to add: says she’s not ready for a boyfriend but would marry Charlie Brown

Franklin

He’s like the nicest character

He’s the sanest; he left Charlie’s neighborhood thinking it was weird

I just think it’s funny how he actually finds the running gag personality traits of the others so strange, I had to include him despite his minimal appearances

Pig Pen

Got picked on a bit in the early days for his dirtiness; but he handles it better than Charlie Brown, he doesn’t seem to really mope

Apparently enjoys cleaning and taking baths, he just gets dirty real quick

Charmed Peppermint Patty into falling in love (the two enter a sort of unofficial relationship)

Peppermint Patty

Has a sentimentality that mirrors Chuck

Her dad calls her a “rare gem”

Says she likes beautiful material things, earrings, and certain sparkly outfits too

Originally pierced only one ear

Her nose is big and she’s real sad about it

Really likes to take moments with Charlie to be sentimental; often talks about how she wishes to be “beautiful”

She admits with embarrassment that she broke down upon seeing the red-headed girl’s face, because she sees why Chuck loves the girl instead of her (Linus kisses her cheek to reassure her; all around sweet strip)

Called Lucy “Lucille”

I have more to go, but those are some interesting things I’ve read in the comic strips so far.

[wroteclassicaly]

Winter is the bane of your existence, your fingertips prickling with that icy electric as they struggle to lock your door with trembling hands. You’d lost your mismatched gloves in the laundry pile you’ve yet to do, and with your dad coming for supper this weekend, you realized you had to venture out into the arctic rain to get a few things at the store. It’s only a block from your trailer, but the moment you leave the confines of a tin roof that shields you beneath safety on your porch — you wish you would have managed your finances better, to save back some cash to order a pizza instead. Holding onto the railing, your legs tighten to hold you steady, deep black sludge darkening the wood of your steps, covering your half-shoveled walkway. You clutch your Goodwill thrifted handbag, digging out your list and balancing your ink pen between your teeth.

This, of course, has you not looking as you approach your mailbox to start your journey, failing to hear snow pack itself down beneath bike tires. His big feet hit the pedals for all they’re worth, and he lets them slam into the ground to slide, cold instantly soaking through his boots, past his socks, and landing across his toes. He prevents a total collision, but his torso catches you by the shoulder and his arms release his mailbag, crashing into the ground along with your tangled limbs. Your purse goes flying across the road, list destroyed, ink pen a casualty. It takes you a few moments to realize that you’re laying back against his chest, legs wound together, his bike several feet beyond, both of you soaked in muddy rain water and discolored snow, that you pray to god Old lady Tilly’s Pomeranian didn’t piss or shit in.

Everything aches, near that numbing, throbbing process from temperatures. Baron is groaning behind you, fingerless gloves swiping his chocolate tresses from his face. Looks like he forgot his hat today, you note, drinking in his disheveled appearance beneath his patchwork coat (you’re pretty sure he got that thing from a time capsule planted in the 70’s). His green cargo pants are sopping wet, having taken the brunt of the mud, his cheeks are dusted pink, along with his damp mouth and red nose. He’s an absolute treasure, shining everytime you see him, blinding your vision and common sense.

You look down as your skin warms from your realized predicament, almost forgetting about the snow and slush soaking through your pants, and now your panties.

“You okay, doodlebug?” His accented voice is winded, his hands reaching out gently to grasp his own ankle and lift it off of yours. Once your legs are free, he pulls you up with him and that hidden strength he possesses, his coat crunching under rustling fabric.

Your snow boots smack into the watery muck below, one hand held in his massive, gloved palm, the other planting itself on his jacket clad chest. You’re nodding, lifting your chin to face him. “I’m so sorry, Baron. M’ good, I just wasn’t paying attention —“

“You know how many times I’ve done that? Knocked into your mailbox a time or two.” He reaches down beside you to knock his knuckles across several indents in your box’s post. It makes you shiver, cars driving across snowy roads in the distance, a simple backtrack to you both.

Baron clears his deep, wind—coated throat, sniffling softly, taking a few steps behind him to grab up your purse. He brings it to you with an offered hand, starting to protest as you bend to retrieve his overflowing bag. Nothing is ruined, thankfully, and you make a quick exchange, fingers lingering, grazing.

“You’re cold, sweetheart. Should be wearing somethin’ on your hands. Momma used to tell me how fast the weather works against us.”

At the mention of his mother, you note his jostled deflation. You try to lighten his spirits, thanking him for breaking your short fall. “Just grateful we didn’t seem to land on anything special. Like a clockwork present from Mrs. Tilly’s dog.”

It’s comical how his moss-shrouded eyes, kissed beneath luscious lashes — widen in fear. He whispers, just to you, with tendrils of his hair blowing over your nose, tickling, caressing, drifting from your cheekbone, and even nicking your forehead. “Did it, ya know… do its business in there, you think?”

“I considered it within the first seconds, but I think we’re safe.” You’re chuckling, and the next sentence is leaving your mouth before you can stop it. “I think your ass got the brunt of the damage, if we’re being honest.”

He marvels at your language, lips pursing and then they pop, tongue clicking at the roof of his mouth. You start to wonder if you’ve overstepped, but he smirks, the corner of his mouth, tugging in a way that makes you want to kiss him breathless, not missing a beat. “You wanna check it out for me?”

Your brows raise higher on your frozen forehead, and he’s immediately apologetic, manners kicking into overdrive. “No, oh my goodness. Doodlebug, that wasn’t very proper of me when you were just—a—kiddin’ and all.”

His flustered state gives you confidence. “Maybe if you spin real slow. As for checking it out, I’d love to, if I didn’t have to make the store before closing.” You sigh when reality pushes its way in. Here in this park it’s usually Baron that jumpstarts those reserved butterflies, giving you something to always look forward to.

“What are you needin’? I might have it at home.”

“Baron, I don’t want to take anything from you —“

“It’s not takin’ if I offered, now is it?”

He’s slipping his bag over his shoulder and yanking bike by the handlebar off the ground, one hand on his trim waistline.

“Some stuff for supper. Dad is comin’ in this weekend.” Baron’s smile melts you entirely, your energies on high alert. He knows how your lack of relationship with your father affects you. He feels a possessive need to protect. Besides, your pop doesn’t deserve you working yourself into a frenzy over a home cooked meal.

“I got a frozen pizza. I think that’ll do just fine for him.”

He raises a hand off his bike to push his hair back, and then scrambles to replace it, the heavy object almost clattering onto the ground once more.

By god, he’s too cute for his own good.

“Okay.” It’s not one word, but it’s how you say it. Pliant and secure, satiated.

“Okay.” He replies, bashful, toeing his work boot into the ground and swirling it around the slush. “You go on back in and I’ll bring it to ya after my route?”

Your response shocks his flickering gaze into finding you. “Can I walk with you, Bar?”

Because yeah, you sure can…

// Eat me paragraph //