#very dedicated to his craft

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

If I was in a lucid dream with a ghost, I would simply impress them with my blunt rolling skills

[just-an-enby-lemon]

RQG social media AU because can you IMAGINE if Hamid had Instagram?! Maybe even Tik Tok or Twitter. My man would just be thirst trapping so hard. He would straight up be:

"Today me and my friends fought and won against the horrors beyond our comphression. It's always a pleasure to fight with you guys. #LOLOMG, #friendship, #besafe" And is a picture of him in his slutiest pose with his shirt slingtly open, perfect hair, clean af, looking hot and cute at the same time... and the chaos of the battlefield on the background. He was at super low health when he took the picture. But he still did it before taking a health potion because "the light was just soo perfect, guys".

[thegreatcaptainusopp]

Brook is basically old man Sanji send tweet

[notstinky]

[Left on Thea’s bed after Van has gone to work is this, along with a poorly drawn DIY movie ticket, for you know, when they watch that movie] 

I don’t know if this is like, good, good but it says STEM! And space is STEM. Anyway, I hope the clouds go away so you can look at the stars and Jupiter and stuff! Please show me Mars sometime!! 

- Van 

(not like the car) 

[fragmentedblade]

Blade compared the relief from pain death brought him to the moments spent with his friends drinking together.

His desire for death as both a release from pain and from the condition of existence in which he finds himself now, so similar to that which he most hated (hated so much as to dedicate his entire life and self to fight, up to the point of crossing unthinkable barriers for shortlife species); but death also almost like a returning to the time that was, the joy and pride it brought him, and the friends and self he lost

[sandsofsolstice]

(((ok this drawing will probs not be finished so take this sort-of-okay version, an illustration from a scene in the fic)))

Rating: M

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence + Blood

Pairings: The PolyculeTM (Jackal/Dune/Carrion/Locust)

Summary: During one of his late night patrols, Dune Zerda is ambushed by Sphinx's lackeys. Although he's able to stumble home, he's been seriously stabbed - it'll take him quite a bit to recover. Will he be able to let down his walls and allow his partners to take care of him? Will he brave accepting tender loving care from them?

Excerpt below this line:

“Tell me who did this,” Jackal says. His rage is barely concealed, shaking with fury, all that righteous anger bubbling up to protect Dune. “Tell me who, and I will kill them.”

“Guess who’s little henchmen,” Dune snarls with a scoff. Who else could it have been besides Sphinx’s underlings? No one wants him dead more than Jackal’s ex, the man’s jealousy running even hotter than his vengeance. It makes him wonder why he isn’t well and truly dead in the sands right now.

Jackal’s scorpion-like tail thrashes angrily as he turns towards the door, hands balled into fists, his pacifism abandoned. He can’t quite remember the last time he saw Jackal this angry: maybe the last time he was actually face-to-face with Sphinx? Perhaps it was the time someone had vandalized the graveyard.

“You will make him better,” Jackal hisses, looking at Locust, the man shrinking a little under his gaze. It’s easy to forget that below his quietness and kindness that the man was practically raised to be a weapon. It’s easy to forget that he runs this town, that he protects it. He’s always so… mellow, when he’s at home. Dune wishes he could fully appreciate the moment.

Instead, when Jackal races out the door, pure panic grips his heart. “Go after him,” Dune says, voice shaking. “If anything happens to him-” his voice breaks, cutting him off.

Locust starts to object before cutting himself off. “Go. But be back fast,” he tells his husband, who spreads his giant wings as he runs out the door next. Dune can faintly hear the powerful wingbeats beating through the air. Jackal couldn’t have gotten far, and Carrion’s faster flying then Jackal is sprinting. It eases the pain in his chest, ever so slightly.

“Just us two, then,” Locust says, sadly, holding Dune up by his shoulders.

“I really hope you’re not the last bastard I see,” Dune says back, trying to put some bite behind his words. He wants to argue and bicker with Locust, for things to feel normal, like he wasn’t bleeding out on the kitchen counter.

[raye-sim]

home life.

[woozi]

I would call myself an army and I honestly didnt know much about Seventeen until I watched the woozi x yoongi suchwita episode and i was so endeared by how sweet and wise woozi was it led me to your blog and I have definitely fallen down a seventeen rabbit hole 🫶

NAURRRR, that is so nice i'm v glad he has opened up the door to svt for u!! 🥹

[fingertipsmp3]

Guys I want to knit and/or crochet my grandma something for her birthday but I can’t work out what she would want. What would you want if you were my grandma

[harteofthehart-ayyy]

Anyone else’s Gardevoir love completing menial tasks or is it just mine

[think-before-you-screenshot]

I CANNOT stop thinking about Merrill as Inquisitor. Solas rocks up like “I’m just an apostate mage!” and Merrill’s insane, insatiable curiosity requires him to start crafting the most INTRICATE lies, while she simultaneously absolutely eviscerates him for condescending to explain stuff she already knows.

Solas: “Oh I walk in the Fade!”

Merrill: “Teach me immediately!”

Solas, who did not expect this: “Oh. Hmm. Actually it’s a highly specialized skill.”

Merrill: “Would blood magic help?”

Solas: ????

***

Iron Bull, asking about the eluvian: “The fuck is that?”

Solas, full professor-mode: “It is an ancient elven artifact, known as-“

Merrill: “Ooooooh I wonder if it connects to the other eluvian!”

Solas, panicked: “What other eluvian?”

Merrill: “The one in my house!”

Solas: ??!!???

***

Solas: “Vallaslin are slave markings, actually.”

Merrill: “Oh that’s sad! But they mean so much more now, my vallaslin is one of my last connections to a culture I am no longer allowed to participate in. They remind me that I am always Dalish, no matter what happens - that’s a part of me!”

Solas: “History doesn’t change just because you want it to!”

Merrill: “Are you not listening to me on purpose?.”

***

Merrill: “So are you dedicated to the Dread Wolf?”

Solas, spitting out his drink: “WHAT?”

Merrill: “We’ll you’re so rude about the Dalish and you don’t have vallaslin! But it wouldn’t be very, you know, sneaky to put “I am dedicated to the Dread Wolf!” on your face.”

Solas, panicking: “Uh, well, actually, um…”

Merrill: “Plus you wear a wolf jaw bone around your neck.”

Solas: !!!!!??!????

Merrill: “Not very subtle, is it?”

[staryuee]

GIVING THEM A FRIENDSHIP BRACELET

꒰warnings꒱ not proofread…:3

⠀꒲ ` synopsis . . . how would your significant other react when you give them a friendship bracelet made by your own kind hands?

⠀꒲ ` characters . . . diluc, kazuha, kokomi, scaramouche, heizou, itto, cyno, lyney, lynette, freminet, furina, neuvillette, navia, ga ming, chiori, arlecchino

⠀꒲ ` notes . . . this reminded of primary school days of making randomly coloured loom band bracelets…sniffles, the good ol’ days of giving your crush bundled up daisies that had bugs on them from the schools yard and then immediately running away (i am a lesbian i had no such experience in just talking for the sake of poetry ☆〜（ゝ。∂)

R. DILUC — 迪��克

“what’s this, my love?” he cautiously surveyed the tiny strings and charms with a shocked yet rather satisfied expression. so this is what you were so focused on for the last couple hours…? he can’t help but feel slightly relieved that instead of wasting away at work you were merely crafting a cutely childish gift for him.

“it’s a friendship bracelet! look, i even managed to find these cute strawberry charms for you.” you laughed and start fiddling with the short strands near his scalp, fiddling with them and folding them over to create a stem-like shape.

diluc softly exhaled in amusement, wrapping the small piece of jewellery around his already bedazzled wrist. it takes him a real good second to actually realise what you just said. awkwardly coughing into his hand, diluc catches your attention, “darling, you do realise we’re married?”

a smile possesses your face as you hook your arm with his. “of course i do! i just thought it’d be cute, you know?” he smiled in response.

diluc is no stranger to friendship bracelets. after all, him and kaeya used to make those for each other all the time. sometimes that young triplet consisting of a very dedicated jean, a shy kaeya and a mischievous diluc (sometimes a cutsey barbara who tried to eat the beads) would gather together to create and exchange such bracelets.

a tradition that diluc might’ve let go of but had never forgotten. when you go to sleep at night diluc immediately places your bracelet into a drawer where he kept all of the ones from his childhood.

K. KAZUHA — 枫原万叶

“is this a friendship bracelet? that’s very considerate of you, my love.” kazuha tilts your chin to press a feather-light kiss onto your lips, his touch so tender it was like being touched by sunlight itself. “but i thought we were passed our journey of friendship?” his hand travel down to your hips. squeezing them intently to bring you close to his flowery scent.

“or do i need to remind you that we’re lovers?” taking your hand in his, kazuha leaned his head down to press his lips against your knuckles, eyes peeking through his bangs as if to entice you. and, well, of course it did. kazuha knew just a simple glance at you paired with an affectionate grin was enough to lure you into loving his arms.

kazuha didn’t expect for a piece of handmade jewellery consisting of maple leaf charms with red string to become so sentimental to him, but it was only a matter of time till the bracelet helped become an engraved memory of you. he’d kiss it each time you were apart, hold it up against moonlight while stargazing, trying to illustrate your figure within a constellation.

wandering became more exciting. he’d get to slowly part from your lips, while still having a perpetual reminder of the love you shared with a few pieces of strings tied to his wrist alone.

kazuha, though content with this, always secretly craved to hear the sound of your voice as you called his name and reached out to him. however, within his life he’s learned one thing that has truly stood out; it’s the small things in life that mirror true beauty.

S. KOKOMI — 珊瑚宫心海

“your excellency? what is that on your wrist?” gorou tilted his head curiously, his ears twitching in tandem.

“hm? oh, this?” she shakes the coral coloured bracelet, making the beads and fish charms jingle excitedly as if they were jumping within sea waves. “haha, [name] gave it to me. it’s a friendship bracelet!” kokomi shows it off with pride, a flutter of flapping fins hit her ribcage in the form of her beating heart at the prospect of people seeing the deepness of your ocean-depth bond with just a few beads on a string.

burnout is utterly debilitating. as kokomi spends only a few minutes in her recluse corner within watatsumi, even the shimmering of pearls and the quiet sound of the shore isn’t enough to bring her fragmented energy to rest. nesting her head upon the bundled arms that laid carefully on her desk, she attempted to snooze. finding that she can just barely flutter her curled eyelashes close before an unbearable ache pinches her eyebrows into a knot.

feeling defeated, kokomi sits back up and taps her fingers absentmindedly on the wood, finding just a tiny bit of solace in the sound of clicking and clacking. wait…she quickly glanced at her wrist, noticing she completely forgot to take off her bracelet when preforming her duties. despite her fatigue, kokomi can’t help but exhale a smile. calloused fingers tweezing the bubbly fish charms in an attempt for stimuli that wasn’t so agonising.

she’s so glad she has you, even if that memory of you is withheld in something children share for an intended promise of foreverness.

SCARAMOUCHE — 斯卡拉姆齐

“are you twelve?“ scaramouche raises his eyebrows at you with a sneer, a look of either disgust or confusion on his face. “if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you were mocking me.”

“you’re short but not kid short!” you retorted to appease him, rolling your eyes at his annoying theatrics. did he really have to be so bitchy all the time? i guess when people say that short people tend to be the most angry because all that wrath is bottled into such a teeny body it’s very true…

the friendship bracelets (yes you made two!) were a representation of his journey from the malicious “balladeer” to the slightly less malicious and more so bittersweet wanderer. a contradicting colour palette yet his frosty and asshole attitude remained the same no matter what hue of the rainbow he was dipped in (should’ve been named skittle not scaramouche).

“if you don’t like it that much you don’t have to wear it, it’s not like i’m forcing you.” a pang of disappointed squeezed your chest heavily. it would’ve been fine if he just threw it away after a week or so. you would’ve been extremely hurt yes, but it’s better than having your own lover reject a handmade gift without even a thought for your feelings.

seeing your frown lines and the way your eyebrows scrunched together, scaramouche sighed and immediately snatched the bracelets back. quickly covering them over his wrist and crossing his arms over his chest defiantly. “i never said i wouldn’t wear it, stop being whiny.”

the slight embarrassment he felt was worth every stroke of blush on his cheeks if it meant he could see you smile brightly at something so childish.

S. HEIZOU — 鹿野院平藏

“it’s not our anniversary.” heizou stated simply.

“nope.”

“neither of our birthdays.”

“nope.”

“not a special achievement either.”

“nope.”

“alright, love, spill. what’s the occasion, hm? just in the mood to spoil me with your affections?” heizou threw his hands up in defeat. not being able to use his detective experience into deciphering why you decided to be so cute today and bless his otherwise uneventful day.

carefully, you wrapped the bracelet around his eager wrist. “no occasion~ just felt like giving you a friendship bracelet to show my love for you.” he raises an eyebrow. leaning to your eye level, heizou procures a look of confused distaste at your seemingly innocent admission. “friendship?” he looks away dejected, placing his hands on his hips. “and here i thought i was your very cool and sweet boyfriend.”

brushing away his dramatics and looping your arms around his neck to pull his pouty face in closer, you retaliate. “oh hush, you’re still my lovely dramatic boyfriend.” heizou smirked and leaned in impossibly close, his breath tickling your soft skin generously.

“then, could you show your love for me in another way too?” begrudgingly, you caved. moulding your lips with his while his hands gradually situated themselves on your hips. a chuckle escapes his occupied mouth, leaving a tingling feeling down your spine as you pull away, a bright smirk on his face. “thanks for the bracelet, baby~ i’ll be sure to wear it as my lucky charm during investigations!”

A. ITTO — 荒泷一斗

“well of course you’d want to bless the almighty arataki itto with such a gift! i humbly accept your offering~” itto sways a thumbs up, tongue rolling across his pointy teeth in an extravagant display of confident hubris. all in vain, of course. no amount of bravado could dull the charming blush on his cheeks; the way his grin hoisted into a genuine smile of gratitude or the way his eyes glistened with a familiar light; childlike wonder.

itto was never and has never been accustomed to such small things in life. honestly, he was lucky for a stranger to not throw insults, physical objects, hits, kicks, spit, and the like for his mere existence. a friendship bracelet was an event that was so far out of reach for the oni that the only thing he wanted to do right now was to kiss you stupid.

but, he couldn’t. he stood still, twiddling with the beads that nested against his wrist with a haze that was absentminded you felt like tapping him would cause a bubble to burst above his head for water to splash him awake.

the word “friend” doesn’t even register into his brain. he’s too content with the knowledge that your bond meant something to you. that he meant something to you.

you’ve never seen itto so quiet before. he’s usually this giant (literally) ball of energy that bounces around the place and shares an infectious attitude of confidence and joy with no restraint even to the most stoic, but right now, it was like he was that small vulnerable child again given a chance at redemption for simply living.

CYNO — 赛诺

cyno tilts his head to the side as he stares with pinched brows at the weaved threads of purple and yellow beads and charms that you held in front of you with a delicate hand. “what’s the bracelet for?”

“it’s a friendship bracelet!” taking the initiative, you wrap the bracelet around his relatively small wrist and watch in awe as it seems to match his palette perfectly. perhaps not his personality, but maybe if he wore this around regularly people wouldn’t be so frightened by his frozen features.

cyno went quiet for a moment, a look of confusion on his face. a look that made you shrink in shame. did he not like it? was something wrong with it? is it too childish for someone with such an esteemed status? all such baseless thoughts get immediately dispelled once cyno’s lips curl into a subtle grin, his eyes narrowing devilishly.

you’ve often seen this look when he’s about to score a rewarding win in a tcg tournament. but, he also had this look when…fuck. you sigh in defeat and simply let him say it. “why did the friendship bracelet break up with its partner?”

“…ha. why?”

“because it felt tied down.”

you know how in animes when someone says something very fucking stupid, it’s like the world echoes with silence to allow the person to truly feel the embarrassment from their words? you hoped that’s what cyno felt when you blank stared him with a thin line for your lips, hands clenching and unclenching as you fought the urge to squeeze his cheeks together.

“do you get it?” he asks, but before he can ramble about the absolutely articulate construction of his pun, you spring into action and press your lips passionately on his. of course, he replies eagerly. enjoying the clicking of the beads hitting together as his hand made it’s swift, instinctive movement to your waist.

LYNEY — 林尼

“mon ange…is this for me?” lyney smiles gently at you, sneaking the red bracelet onto his wrist. unable to take his away from the fine craftsmanship and the adorable details of hats, doves and some card charms. knowing you thought of him so directly and so in depth made his heart flutter the same way a dove’s wings expand after being liberated from a cooped cage.

“of course it is, it’s a friendship bracelet!” you clasp your hands behind your back, awaiting either his praise or his teasing — whatever he was in the mood for more. despite the happiness that surged through his heart like a bad game of throw the dart, believe me you shot him hard in the feels, lyney frowns.

“but, mon chéri…” he sighs in despair, a theatric hand over the very heart you had gripped tightly in your hand with a mere few beads of coloured wax. “i haven’t gotten a gift for you, i feel rather ashamed of myself.”

“don’t worry about that, this is just meant to be my good luck charm for you during your shows and…” your voice trailed off to him. not because he was uninterested but because he loved the buzzing sound of your melodic syllables each time your lips opened.

“ah, my dear,” lyney paused your affectionate rambles politely, “you’ve got something here…” you tilt your head to the side quizzically and await for him to point at it or take it out. he grins wildly. “well, isn’t that cute?” lyney chuckles softly and while leaning suuuper close to your ear, ‘magically’ pulls out a rainbow rose from seemingly no where.

“it seems we’re even now, hm?” he gestures, handing the rose over with a wink, leaving a cheeky kiss to your jawline in gratitude.

LYNETTE — 琳妮特

knowing lynette’s character and demeanour intricately, you’re aware that grand gestures aren’t at all her thing. she can barely handle a tea time conversation with someone if she’s forced to play an active role.

the bracelet sat enclosed within your palm as you rambled on about your day to lynette, feeling an unshakable amount of anxiety vomiting into your gut for no reason but overthinking. you’ve been avoiding giving her this bracelet for a week now in fear she’ll find very little value or use in something so minimal.

“you have something you want to give me.” a phrase intended as a question, but said more so as a statement.

“i…uh, how did you know?” you laugh and play with the strings of the bracelet cautiously as to not break it.

“your eyebrows are furrowed and you keep glancing away from me.” she analyses you like a real robot…i guess she’s really committed to that bit. either that or she just loves you too much that being unable to read your expressions would be a grievous sin on her part.

with a sigh of defeat, you slide over the bracelet to her with an awkward smile paling your usually joyous lips. “i made a friendship bracelet for you…thought it’d be cute.” lynette doesn’t understand people around her a majority of the time. truly, she doesn’t even want to, it’s not like she needs to either since she has her brother to leech on and others to fool with her robotic party trick and yet, she can’t help but wonder why it is you choose to defend yourself over something so sweet.

“thank you, it’s cute. i’ll wear it for my next show if i’m able to.” her lips curve upward in what to most would seem like a twenty degree uplift, but to you, it meant quite literally everything.

FREMINET — 菲米尼

nothing. no amount of experiences with his interactions with people could’ve prepared him for the absolute heart attack that was this gesture.

he loved it, too much. he wishes he could just dip back into the ocean depths. indulge in a meaningless conversation with the tidalga, or even express his feelings of adoration to you to pers. but currently, it was only you two sharing a humble moment together. no person he could lean in, no space he could rush the words he’d love to say to you in gratitude for the gift.

and you knew that. and that’s what he also loved about you. how willing you were to accept and love him even with him being less socially adept than a coral reef. feeling the cool and vibrant coloured bracelet tilt around his wrist and knot in place, he smiled wobbly.

between the silence, you knew that the quiet smile and nod meant more than his stammered and hushed words could ever express. leaning in to press a kiss to the side of his wrist and cheek, freminet manages to gulp a bit of courage and swallow his static and tingly anxiety, reaching to kiss your forehead. letting his lips linger momentarily before he backed away. “thank you…”

FURINA — 芙宁娜

heartbeat pounding in her ears. eyes narrowing into puffy circles. her bottom lip bitten brutally by her gnashing teeth. hands shaky, making her teacup tremble within her grip. why were you glaring at her so intensely?!

first the invitation for a tea party with only you two as the special guests. second the ominous letter claiming you two “need to talk.” and now, you were completely quiet and calmly snacking, drinking away several blends of tea without a word! it was absolutely ridiculous to think the one person she has entrusted her still mending heart with is ignoring all the clear signs of hesitance and vulnerabilities within the relationship despite them all being initiated by them!

“so, furina.” you clasp your hands together, an impish look transforming your usually peaceful face. her heartbeat stammers as her eyes meet yours in a tender glance. “uhm..yeah?” furina attempts to appear more courageous than she is, but truly, she’s shitting it (for lack of a better term).

the silence stretched on for too long before you giggled and pulled up a blue and white toned bracelet from your sleeves, shaking it with your fingertips with a kind smile. “i made you a friendship bracelet!”

a ghost wavered out of her frightened soul, the tea in her hand put down at this point so she can savour the comforting feeling of her head in her hands. being a gorgeous, shining star in the spotlight of fontaine’s grand stage, furina isn’t a secondhand stranger to gifts. whether they’ve been given to her personally, awkwardly, silently, with no words signed or a creepy letter attached expressing their reverence.

she wishes you’d sometimes go that route instead of matching her in these theatrics! begrudgingly, despite the little flutter in her heart, she slipped the bracelet onto her wrist and looked at you with a pout that you couldn’t help but lean in to kiss.

NEUVILLETTE — 那维莱特

neuvillette hums a tune along to the orchestra of the vinyl. an accompanying sound of his pen hastily itching onto the paper adding to the rhythm. his door opens and while he’d normally remain quietly focused on his piling paperwork, he recognised this particular patter of footsteps coming towards him. you.

smiling habitually and peering his head up, neuvillette greeted you lovingly. “hello, my love. what brings you here today? did you get in trouble?” he knew the reason you’d come ushering into his office was hardly with the intention of getting him to aid you with your troublesome quarrels, but rather, you just wanting his love and affection that he was more than willing to fulfil. if time allowed, of course.

“no, no. nothing like that, yet…” you grinned and neuvillette looked at you with a playful look of disappointment at the hesitance. “i made you a gift!” with a prideful aura that was less arrogance and more pure joy, you presented the bracelet to him. he wasted no time in stirring the small bundle of fabric and beads with his gloves. “look,” you pointed eagerly, “i even managed to commission some furina and melusine charms! you know how we always joke about them being like our children? i thought i’d be a cute addition!”

he exhaled a satisfactory laugh in agreement, interlocking your hand in his to press a kiss to your knuckles in thanks. “cute, indeed. thank you, mon chéri. you’re too sweet sometimes.” you sit on the edge of his desk, watching excitedly as he places the bracelet onto his wrist. “as a gift in return, after i’m done with work, how about we take a nice stroll together? i assure you, no rain will interrupt our serenity so long as you’re by my side.”

NAVIA — 娜维娅

immediately gushes at you as your palm opens to present the gold and blue hued bracelet to her, adorned with rose charms that you personally painted in gold and a greyish blue to accentuate her outfit if she decides to wear it. it was less a decision and more a necessity.

she delicately handled the bracelet onto her wrist and kissed both of your cheeks in gratitude, “thank you so much, sweetheart! this is so cute…but what’s the occasion? it’s not our anniversary or anything like that.” navia smiled at you, playing with some of the little roses and twirling them around in appreciation.

“it’s a friendship bracelet!”

her lips pucker into a pout as she starts to coddle you within her arms, occasionally swinging you around gently. “you’re so absolutely adorable!” she nips at your earlobe, kissing it as a form of apology. “but honey, you do know we aren’t just friends right?” navia captures your cheeks within her palms. “we’re lovers!” she presses several kisses across your face, ending her affectionate spillage with a press of her lips on yours.

“oops— haha, sorry i got lipstick all over you, darling.” navia chuckled and began wiping away all the lipstick smudges from your pretty face. yet her attempts bore no fruit. instead of wiping away anything, she only made it oh so much worse. “ah well, guess we both got presents from one another today?” she snickers, twirling her wrist to show off the bracelet with a wink.

GA MING — 嘉明

if you thought this man’s eyes couldn’t get any brighter, then you’re absolutely dead wrong. if you thought he could jump high while lion dancing, you’re also absolutely dead wrong!

he could outrun god right now. if you asked him to defeat a hoard of lined up mondstadt and liyue treasure hoarders, he’d do it in a heartbeat. what possessed you to be so cute?! do you seriously think he can take another heart attack like this after the one he had during lantern rite?

you aren’t able to say much or even explain your reasons for as to why you decided to make this nor what it even is or represents before ga ming smacks his lips messily all over your face. a mixture of your own gloss from kissing you earlier and his own saliva stick to your skin sloppily and you can’t help but feel both enamoured and grossly repulsed at the mixture of sticky wetness on your cheeks as well as the love that seemed to glow like fireworks.

“mmuah~! i love you so much…are you trying to make me cry?” he pouts, becoming a giggling mess as soon as you roll your eyes at his dramatics.

he keeps the bracelet on every day. sometimes he’ll be pouty all day if he’s unable to wear it in fear of it snapping and wasting away all your precious hard work due to either his negligence or the pains of manual labour…he’ll have to cope with simply glancing at the red imprints the beads had left intended onto his skin for satisfaction.

CHIORI — 千织

“what is this?” she jingles the vivid and strong orange coloured bracelet in front of her face, appreciating the tiny details of the cute sewing equipment charms and what looked to be handmade porcelain bows embedded onto some beads.

“it’s a friendship bracelet!” you gleam at her, pride evident in your face at your creation. she hums in agreement; it was certainly something alright.

“oh. cute.” that’s all the genuine feedback she could give you without mentioning how tacky it would look with her attire — it was an affectionate gesture, one which she didn’t want to undermine and therefore, with little complaint despite her own personal conflicts, she slipped the bracelet onto her wrist, extending her hand out and twirling it to admire the craftsmanship.

you won’t see her actively wearing it out in every day life, perhaps you’ll manage to sneak a glimpse of her playing with the beads while she’s going over some designs in her sketchbook but otherwise, her gloved hands contain nothing but the smell of perfume.

not that she’d admit it outright until you asked, but the real reason she refuses to wear your bracelet daily is for a simple reason; she doesn’t want it to break in order to have that constant reminder of you as she goes to bed and stares up at her ceiling with the bracelet being coddled between her fingertips.

ARLECCHINO — 阿蕾奇诺

“you’re so childish.” she muses, tracing her nails across the beads, eliciting a weird clacking sound as the charms and beads hit against each other. “but i suppose that’s also an alluring aspect to you.” she ushers the bracelet onto her wrist. despite it being completely covered, there was something even more intimate about her gift being a part of a hidden identity for her; your affection only intended for your gorgeous eyes and her narrowed ones.

tilting your head to her eye-level, you can smell her musky perfume. she leaned in for a kiss. her lips tasting like flavoured gloss consisting of all sorts of red berries, an accurate mirror to the rosey colour of her bright lips. a sneaky hand traced circles around your hips and waist as she attempted to take your breath away. a scythe is a befitting weapon for a woman who’s kiss was practically a notion for death.

she’s used to her children offering gifts and trinkets to her. rocks, random jewellery they crafted with glue, messy crayon drawings, sometimes even in the most macabre scenarios, blood itself. each of those, however, she cherished wholeheartedly. the same way she’d cherish the bond between you two that she’d never allow for anyone to break.

so long as she continuously receives silly gestures like this, she’s convinced she’ll be able to hold you within her embrace with very little effort.

©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost ♡ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɪʜᴇᴀʀᴛɢᴀɴʏᴜ

[primofate]

Confessions Series - Part 2: Description [Genshin Impact Male Characters]

In a nutshell: He asks if you have your eyes set on someone. You start describing HIS features and watch for his reaction. (Hint: He likes you too)

Other works in this series: (Part 1 - Overheard)

Warnings: The usual, haven't written in a while, please forgive mistakes, bit of angst in Diluc (couldn't help it), I am a sleep deprived mother, some profanity, for some reason did not feel like writing Zhongli though he's one of my faves.

Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Bennett, Chongyun, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Gaming, Heizou, Itto, Kaeya, Lyney, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Wriothesley, Xiao, gn!reader

Personal Favourites: Diluc, Wriothesley

Aether

"Yeah, I do," you start. "He's very selfless...He's always running around helping other people,"

Aether nods, intense gaze in his eyes while listening.

"Hmm...He has...a partner. Like a companion he always travels with..."

Aether's brows start to furrow and his head tilts the slightest bit. Paimon flying next to him has no clue who it is whatsoever.

"He's not originally from Teyvat...He's on a journey, you see..." this is where you start getting nervous

You see it click in Aether's head slowly, and his eyes start to widen the slightest bit

"Hey, that sounds an awful lot like you, traveller! Why have we never met this person before, Y/N?" Paimon asks and you only smile.

"P-Paimon," Aether glances at her and then back to you. It's silent for a moment. Paimon is super confused.

But Aether being Aether didn't want to get the wrong idea and racks up the courage to ask you one last question. "He's on a journey...to look for his twin sister?"

You smile the brightest smile you've ever given him. "Correct!"

"Ah...Well..." Aether starts to feel the heat on his cheeks. "That's..." he doesn't say anything else for a few seconds. "Don't get me wrong, I'm just...I'm happy!"

Is basically flustered when he realizes you've technically just confessed to him.

Albedo

"Simply put, I think he's dedicated to his craft," You shrug and smile

"...An admirable trait," he responds.

"He's frequently in Dragonspine. He spends a bit of time in his lab there," you decide to just go straight for the obvious.

Albedo pauses. "I...see..." Turns to you with a small smile "I wasn't aware that you were that fond of me,"

"Now you know," you simply say and try to play it off with a wave of your hand.

He chuckles under his breath and strides over to you while saying. "Well then, I suppose it's my turn to talk about the person I've set my eyes on,"

Proceeds to describe you accurately, down to your likes and dislikes. In his eyes, you seem like something so precious and you can't help but feel a bit embarrassed.

Alhaitham

"Hmm... Sort of," you explain. "He's a little...hard to reach,"

Alhaitham "...and you still pursue him?"

You laugh a bit "I'm hardly pursuing him, I'm just...observing. I like watching him, even though he has the most unreadable face I've seen,"

Alhaitham goes quiet for a moment. He catches on fast, he already has an idea but is cautious about what he says. "...I see," he doesn't ask anything else, but you continue to offer information.

"He likes reading. Really smart guy...but kind of no nonsense type. Very straight to the point," You begin to feel a little nervous so you pretend to read your own book with a small shrug.

The silence is deafening.

"I suspect that type of person will be hard to put up with," he suddenly says aloud and you chuckle in response.

"Possibly, but he seems to be putting up with me too...I guess?"

He suddenly closes his book and leans forward to pry the one in your hands away. He locks his gaze with you. "...'Putting up' is hardly the word I would use." his lips twitch the slightest bit before continuing. "He has little to no patience for other people...so if he keeps you around...perhaps it signals something else,"

"Something else...As in, I'm special?"

Again he quiets for a moment, before he stands up, chair scraping the floor. "...Precisely," he turns to start walking out of the library, waving a hand behind him. "I'll pick you up in the morning tomorrow,"

Ayato

"I do, but he's a very busy sort of man,"

Ayato "Is that so?" he pours tea for you.

"Quite. He's also a very important person,"

He hums and watches the billowing steam from the tea. "It sounds as if I might know this person," but he genuinely doesn't know it's him, he just thinks its another noble.

"...You most definitely know him. He has a sister. Lovely girl." This is where you avert your gaze from him in fear of him instantly connecting the dots.

He talks in pauses "A...sister..." His mind is starting to make connections but he can't be quite sure yet. So he prods further. "...Does she happen to have a vision?"

"A cryo vision holder, yes," you're biting the inside of your lip at this point. There's a moment of silence before you hear Ayato laughing rather gleefully, like he was amused by a story.

"I see." he ends with a chuckle. "I apologize for being so busy, Y/N," he smiles at you "I promise I'll do my best to arrange my priorities in order to spend more time with you,"

Baizhu

"He takes his job too seriously and can be quite reckless...Sometimes he even puts himself in danger,"

Changsheng catches on immediately. The snake had already known for a while. Baizhu was just being dense. "Oh here we go," the snake half whines.

Baizhu gives it a weird look before turning his attention back to you. "That does sound reckless,"

"I've told him a couple of times to think about himself too...but I guess he's just really passionate about his job,"

Baizhu sort of shrugs, "What IS his job?"

"...Well for starters he owns a pharmacy around town,"

To Baizhu the realization hits all too slowly. It's not that he was slow or dense, but he was having a hard time believing that it was him you were talking about, specially when you hadn't said it outfront.

"...You do realize I'm the only one who owns a pharmacy around town?" he asks, eyes piercing through you and awaiting your answer.

Changsheng is the one who answers for you. "Yes you ridiculous doctor, Y/N's pertaining to you!"

It's the first time you've seen him blush and he turns his head away when he does so. "I-I see, well...that's rather, unexpected...but not unwelcome,"

Clears his throat "Just give me a moment"

Changsheng would roll its eyes if it could.

Bennett

"Has a lot of energy...Sometimes I wonder where he gets all of it. I really like him for that though."

Deflates as soon as you start talking about your "crush". What kind of answer was he expecting anyway? That you had eyes for him?

"He has a bit of a...problem when it comes to luck," you continue

Bennett stops, you look at him and you can practically see the gears in his head starting to turn a little faster.

"Y-Y/N? Are you talking about..." then the gears suddenly stop. "Oh what am I saying, it can't be. Ahahaha! Let's go!" starts walking again as if nothing happened

Your jaw drops and you're forced to just DIRECTLY tell him you're talking about him.

"...Oh...Oh! F-For real?! Oh...Sorry... I just thought... there's no way! B-But, I'm really glad! Really!"

Chongyun

"Hmm...He's a little shy...but he's very responsible,"

Chongyun stares at you intently and nods as if taking notes.

"He doesn't like spicy stuff,"

Chongyun nods twice, eagerly.

"He's very dedicated in learning about thaumaturgy,"

Chongyun blanks out, brows furrow but still nods. Slowly.

"He's really good with a claymore too!"

Chongyun stops and stares at you, you see a hint of red gracing his cheeks "Y/N...You can't possibly be...talking about... m-m-m-"

Can't seem to say it, so you outright say that it is, in fact, him.

Combusts into a tomato red

Cyno

"How do I say this...He's a pretty strict guy." The two of you are playing Invokation TCG during this convo.

"Mmhmm..." Cyno is focused on his cards, frankly he doesn't give a craps ass who you're into. He didn't even know why he asked, he just dug himself a hole.

"...but he really only takes his work seriously. It's his job to be serious, I guess. I think that's what Matras need to do," he finished his turn and its yours now, though he's still studying his cards intently. Until you get to the Matra part.

"He's a Matra?" You rarely see a surprised face on Cyno so you focus your gaze on him. "Which one?" He further asks. Honestly he looks about to murder someone.

You blank out a bit at how intense his stare was, "Well...You know. That one, the one who's really into Invokation TCG,"

He immediately follows up without missing a beat "I don't know anyone else who's into--" then it clicks.

It was so damn silent for a good 10 seconds. You clear your throat, tear your eyes off him "Um, it's your turn,"

STILL doesn't budge until he finally goes back to his cards with a whisper, you can't really tell but he looks slightly bashful and you can barely, BARELY hear him "...If I win then we go on a date,"

"Okay, and if you lose?"

Cyno "...I'm not gunna lose,"

"See, I told you he's a really serious guy,"

Dainsleif

"I think he's a very dedicated person," you get lost in thought a little, thinking about him. "Whenever I look at him...Sometimes I feel as if there's a certain sadness in him... Perhaps he blames himself for not being able to protect his nation,"

He IMMEDIATELY knows. And he knows that you hurt for him too. How could he not?

"He searches for answers... I don't know for how long, I suppose a long, long time," you close your eyes, imagining how long he must have been wandering Teyvat.

You only open your eyes when you feel a hand brush against yours. He's looking straight at you, neither happy nor sad. "...You don't have to feel that way, for my circumstances,"

The brush against your hand disappears and reappears next to your cheek, his fingers gently resting on it "...Knowing that you feel that way, has taken away some of the burden that I shoulder,"

His gaze suddenly hardens and his voice drops to a whisper, "But please, just don't end up in the same way as everyone else,"

Diluc (I don't know why I end up writing a whole novel for this guy. I guess he's my OG favourite)

You pause for a moment, wondering how to describe Diluc. "...Sometimes... I feel as if I know a lot about him and yet... he's still far off in the distance,"

Diluc, rifling through paperwork, doesn't even look at you. "...That tells me nothing about him," there's a bit of bite in his statement.

You sigh a little, "I mean, simply said he's a hardworking man. He always has Mondstadt's best interests in mind...but he prefers to work alone,"

He's silent, but you can still hear the paper shuffling.

"....but people love him. They care for him. I suppose I understand why he keeps a distance but..." at this point you don't even realize that you're just rambling and staring into space. Sort of in a daze of thinking out loud. "...isn't it lonely? ...I suppose I shouldn't assume how he feels. Maybe he's fine with it...I just wonder how long till he sees us..." there's silence, no ruffle of papers, you're still just staring at the bookshelf and you continue in a monotone voice. "...or sees me,"

You blink, and all of a sudden its as if a magic spell is cast on you and you wake up to the reality that you've been rambling about him. You sit up straight "Oh," then turn to him with a careful smile. You don't think he knows what or who you're talking about anyway. "I better get going," you stand, "Jean must be waiting for me."

You leave, and he doesn't stop you.

You don't really think anything of it, feeling as if your whole monologue was very vague...but to your surprise he knocks at your door in the evening, there's a bit of rain falling.

"Diluc? You're drenche--"

"I see you,"

The determination in his voice lulls you to keep quiet and only stare up at him, wondering if he had more to say, but instead of saying something, he leans in, wrapping his arms around you and resting his forehead on your shoulder, as if he had been defeated.

You only welcome his embrace, and, for the first time in a long time. Diluc finally feels like he's home.

Gaming

"Passion!" You nod your head as you say it. "He knows what he wants to do and is incredibly dedicated to it!"

Gaming looks surprised, has no idea you're talking about him. "Huh! That's really cool!" He thinks he's the total opposite. "Wish I could be as dedicated as him."

You kind of laugh out loud and he raises his eyebrows and tilts his head. "What?"

"Gosh you really sell yourself short," you shake your head "Anyway, this guy, right, he kinda works two jobs," you put out your hand to count one and two "One, for the Secure Transport Agency and two, he's in a Wushou Troupe,"

Gaming instantly straightens his back and looks at you wide-eyed. You figure you had to be direct when it came to him otherwise he'd never get it with how modest he was.

"...You're...talking about...me?" You smile at him sympathetically.

"You know, Gaming, I wish you saw yourself the way others saw you. You're a great person,"

Big smile, but legit looks like he's about to cry. "Between the two of us? I think you're greater Y/N,"

Heizou

"...Honestly he's kind of a flirt," you raise your eyebrows at the fact and kind of question yourself why you like this kind of person. "Makes me wonder if he does that to everyone, you know?"

Heizou hums and puts his hand under his chin in a "thinking position"

"That's not enough evidence to go by. Perhaps we can investigate this guy together to see if he's worthy,"

You look at him, pursing your lips while musing and giving him a suspicious look. You're not sure if he's figured it out.

He's got no idea. I mean, it was a pretty general description. "Any distinguishing features?" he asks.

You look at him in a deadpan manner. "Red hair, I guess. And moles under his eyes,"

He looks back at you with a matching blank face.

Then breaks into a wide, close eyed grin. "I see! From experience, that person is truly trustworthy,"

You sigh a little, "Is he though?"

He chuckles heartily. "I promise you he is," offers you his hand with a genuine smile. "Let me show you,"

Itto

"Ummm... big, tall, strong looking guy. Intimidating at first look but he's actually a dork," you explain.

Itto crosses his arms above his chest with an unamused face. "Tch! No way! Ain't no one taller than me in Inazuma!" Then he looks smug again. "Anyway, keep goin'. What else?" Only asked you because he wants to see what your "type" is.

"...Popular? Nah... Infamous is the word, I think. He kinda gets into a lot of trouble,"

Itto raises a brow "You serious? Whaddyou want with someone like that?" as if he wasn't a troublemaker himself.

"I mean... He also loves life and somehow always sees the good side of things."

Itto "Eh... guess that's a good thing..." folds his arms behind his head and huffs.

This guy is never gunna get it so you drop more obvious hints. "He's an oni who has his own gang."

For a split second he looked like he was going to get it, and then... "WHAT?! There's another oni who wants to challenge the Arataki Gang?"

"That's not what I--"

punches his fist onto his palm "Lead the way Y/N, let me at 'em!"

"I'm talking about you!"

"Huh?"

"Itto, there's no other oni around town!" leave it to him to make you exasperated.

He quiets for a few seconds. "...But Y/N..."

You expectantly stare at him, curious what he was going to say about your confession.

"...Did you just call me a dork?"

Of course that's what he picks up on.

When he finally processes it though, he's stoked and on an all time high.

Kaeya

"...good at talking to people, and he knows it... Exudes charisma like he breathes air," You're saying this with a glare.

He chuckles and rests his head on his fist. "Why, pray tell, do you look angry when saying that?"

"Not angry..." you mumble under your breath, eyes trailing away from him. "Just... probably a lot of people like him,"

"And you don't like that?" He smirks. He totally knows.

"...No...Well...I'm okay with it... It's just... I think he's so much more than what he shows to others,"

That, he wasn't expecting. He actually feels genuinely touched.

"Sure he jokes around a lot...Is good at making people feel comfortable...but he's also kind...and you can always count on him," there's a faraway gaze in your eyes now, a small smile on your face. "To me, he's...a safe space."

Kaeya's smile drops. It looks like he's unhappy and you think that maybe you've made a mistake. Still...there's no way he knows that it's him, right? It was kinda vague...

You're about to stand and excuse yourself but he catches your wrist easily. "...You know..." he starts, meeting you eye to eye. He looks at you as if he's looking into your soul, his eyes the gentlest you've seen them.

"You make it so hard, not to fall deeper in love with you,"

Lyney (I have no idea how this ended up so dramatic)

"He isn't exactly a trickster...but he has a lot of tricks up his sleeve,"

Lyney "Oh?" Raises an eyebrow. Something kind of clicks in him, but he shakes it off. "The good kind or the bad kind?"

You stall a little, thinking of the answer, knowing that he's Fatui. "The...good...kind,"

"You don't sound very sure," he gives you a lopsided smile.

"It's complicated," you admit. "Regardless of the circumstances though, I think he's a great magician,"

You watch his face turn into surprise quite quickly, but he still looks and feels unsure of himself. "Oh, perhaps...I can learn a thing or two from him?"

Your smile turns forced and hard. He can't be serious? He STILL doesn't know, or...what?

"I...Well..." You don't know what to say next, but he seems to get the idea.

"Sorry, have I put you in a hard place? Ahaha..." Scratches the back of his head. "My apologies, I was just curious,"

This, for some reason, really puts you off and you feel as if you've been rejected, even though you technically had not outright told him that you're talking about him.

It seems silly for you to get upset, but you are. So you stand, and make a request of him. "Can we... just pretend this conversation didn't happen?" and you give him some sort of excuse that you need to run an errand or something, and you're off, leaving him feeling...guilty. But he doesn't know why. Or does he?

Lyney would look like the type of person who would be confident about himself. But, really, as a magician, he had to be 1000% sure about something before he went ahead with it, and so...that's where his doubt stemmed from.

Lynnette is really the one who knocks some sense into him. "...and you...let Y/N leave?" after hearing the story from him.

"Oh, Lyney... Regardless of what Y/N feels... For you, next to Freminet and I, is there someone else that you love dearly?"

That's how he ends up at your doorstep. Though you've seen his disappearing rose trick hundreds of times, he was the most sincere at that moment, when he says sorry that he didn't get the hint and to give him a chance.

Neuvillette

"Serious person. He seems to put his work first, above all else," you say. "I respect him a lot for that,"

Neuvillette is interested in what you say, but doesn't know at all that it's him. "He does sound quite respectable," he says while looking through some files.

"A long time ago he said that he feels like he's an outsider...but really I feel like there isn't anyone who knows Fontaine the way that he does,"

Neuvillette, moves the file he was reading downwards, just to look at you questioningly. "He's from Fontaine?" this was surprising to him.

"Well...he currently resides in Fontaine, yes," you nod.

"Ah," he answered curtly. "And I have never met him?" he asks.

"...He's very busy." you bite your lip, about to say something and you know that the next sentence is the point of no return. "He's the Iudex...so it's hard to catch him,"

You swear you can hear your heart hammering in your chest.

You see him put his files down and just stare at you with a sort of...unsure look.

His shoulders relax, he wasn't even aware he had been tense that whole time. "That... must have taken a lot of consideration and courage to say," he clears his throat.

You only nod your head slowly, moving your gaze away from him with an awkward smile. Hand absentmindedly grabbing a book and flipping through the pages...you had no idea what you were doing out of nervousness.

"I apologize...I'm unfamiliar with what to do in these kinds of situations... However," he pauses and seems to think carefully about what he was going to say next. "Please don't take it as a rejection. I'd be honored to navigate this with you, if you would so graciously have me,"

Scaramouche

"He's an asshole," you bite back a laugh.

He instantly knows.

"Actually he acts all tough only to give in to his inner-kind-of-agreeable-personality,"

He snorts

"What? Am I wrong?" you challenge him. You KNOW that he knows. The two of you have been hovering around each other for a while, and there's a certain closeness between the two of you. Though that line was never crossed.

He doesn't answer you back but prods you more. "Is that all? You like that he's an asshole? Are you some type of masochist?"

You almost laugh. "No, you moron. I'm saying he has a weird way of showing he cares. He's always biting my head about not being careful enough. But if he really didn't care he wouldn't be screaming at me, you know what I mean?"

Scaramouche grumbles something under his breath and crosses his arms, turning away from you.

"Say that again?" You ask, not hearing what he said.

"...I said, you're not as stupid as I thought you were," shrugs his concealed embarrassment off and turns back to you all nonchalant again. "Anyway, stop yapping and get going, we got things to do,"

Snatches your hand and starts pulling you to walk with him.

Tartaglia (I feel like this is ridiculously short but I also feel like Tartaglia would have known a LONG time ago if the two of you had the feels for each other)

"Oh man...Probably the most reckless man I know,"

Also knows. Instantly. But shuts his mouth just so he can listen to you talk about him, but it gets deep real quick.

"In my opinion he's a handsome guy. Real charming," you smirk the tiniest bit. "but I don't know if I can keep up with him, honestly. It's a little hard not knowing when he's going to come back...or if he's even gunna come back at all,"

You weren't going to hide the fact that you were scared shitless he didn't return from Fontaine for ages. You legitimately thought he had died.

Tartaglia stops you there, by suddenly cradling your cheek. "Y/N," he's wearing a pained expression. "I'm sorry,"

"Don't be, it's your job, right?" You reassure him, and shrug.

He sighs "Yes, but I'll promise this to you as I've promised my family," he smiles, the most confident smile you've seen on him. Even more confident than when he wields his blades. "I'll come back to you, I always will,"

Wriothesley

"Er... How do I say this... He kind of has some... big boss energy?"

"Oh?" he sips at his tea, glancing at you while he looks at today's paper. "So he's a bigshot?" he asks curiously.

"Somewhat, yes. Intimidating at first look, but...he just has a great sense of responsibility," you pick at the selection of cakes and cookies he has.

"Huh," he lets out in a quick huff. In the deepest, DEEPEST parts of his mind there is a NANOSECOND that he thinks its him but it gets erased so quickly he's not even sure that he had thought about it.

"Sounds like a good person... Any interesting, weird quirks?" he grins as he says this, yet again glancing at your expression.

Your lips tremble a bit at what you're about to say, because you're SURE he was going to get it once you say it. You gulp and feel the hairs at the back of your neck stand before you say out loud "He likes tea. I kind of wonder if it's an addiction," you can't meet his eyes.

He's looking at the paper he's reading but nothing.registers.in.his.brain.its.like.it.stopped.working.

You shift in the uncomfortable silence but he calmly folds up the newspaper and places it on his table. "...I'm inclined to ask, because it would be embarrassing if I got the wrong idea,"

"Mmhmm," you pop a cookie in your mouth to distract yourself.

"By any chance, are you...talking about me?"

"Mm," you nod your head, still not looking at him and glue your eyes on the cookies instead, out of embarrassment.

Suddenly chuckles. You brave a peek at him, now covering his eyes with a single hand, head tipped back to rest on his chair.

You're not sure if that's a good or bad thing.

"Sorry, no, it's just... I didn't think it would happen this way." Visibly takes in a big breath and sighs it out slowly. Seems to have regained his composure and is back to his confident self, smiling at you. "Thanks Y/N, I... don't think it's much of a secret that I enjoy your company too. I'm just a little embarrassed that you beat me to it...some big boss energy huh?"

Xiao

"...He takes on everything by himself. I worry about him," You look at the stars as you say this. Xiao doesn't say anything.

"But I'm glad that he's opening up a lot more now. It's great to see him among friends,"

Xiao has a feeling at this point, that its him you're talking about, but he still doesn't say anything and keeps his gaze in front of him rather than on you.

"Yes, the road in front of him is long but...he's also already come a long way," you sigh a little "The time of Rex Lapis has long gone, but he still sticks to his principles. I think his dedication is part of what I like about him,"

This is when he turns to you, blank look on his face, contemplating on what to do. When you turn to meet his gaze, its then that he decides to bridge the gap between the two of you, shoulder to shoulder, leaning in sideways to catch your lips in a chaste and rather shy kiss.

"You should give a bit of credit to yourself, for putting up with me all these years, Y/N,"

End!

I’ve published The Ruthless Prince (Reader x Scaramouche) on paperback. Click here.

Consider supporting me to read some exclusive fics:

Ko-Fi

buymeacoffee

Here’s the Masterlist

[brunchable]

𝗠𝘆 𝗡𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗯𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗣𝗼𝗿𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿

Pairings: PornStar!Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Themes: Sexual Innuendo/humour,Guy next door, situational comedy? If you're not up for a few second-hand embarrassment sit this one out lol. Summary: Your coworker peer pressured you to look up SergeantBarnes in Pornhub, reason? Because apparently you're missing out. A/N: This would make a good mini series. . .but we'll see. I had a dream. . .that he was a guy next door, just wanted to-of course-add a twist to it asdfghjkl.

It was all Amy’s fault. And Trish’s. And okay, maybe you shared a little bit of the blame for caving to the intense peer pressure at work. But still.

You’d been minding your own business in the break room, scrolling through lunch menus, when Amy had sidled up, leaned in with that conspiratorial look on her face, and whispered, “Have you seen him yet?”

“Seen who?” your eyebrows creased as you asked, confused.

Trish popped up out of nowhere, clutching her latte in her hand. “Girl, SeargentBarnes. The guy is legendary—I mean, a literal internet icon.”

You shrugged, feigning indifference while they exchanged a look that practically screamed, amateur. They started talking all at once, dropping cryptic phrases like “too hot to handle,” “you’re gonna die,” and, “you’ll never look at men the same way again.”

So there you were that night, alone with your laptop, curled up in bed and biting your lip as you debated whether to type it in. It’s just curiosity, you reasoned. Research purposes.

Your eyes widened as the screen filled with… well, humanity, in all its naked, unfiltered glory. Your face heated up so fast you could’ve sworn it was the same shade as your throw pillow. Videos lined up like some weird buffet, titles more scandalous than anything you’d ever whispered in confession, and… was that a whole category devoted to delivery men? You slapped a hand over your mouth to stop from yelping, mortified at the intensity of it all. 

“I need to go to church after this,” you muttered, squinting like that would somehow censor the thorough dedication people were showing in their, uh, procreation endeavors.

“SergeantBarnes,” you muttered to yourself as you typed, fingers hovering uncertainly over the Enter key. Then, with a sigh, you hit search, and… oh.

You nearly choked on oxygen. Because there he was, in HD glory, right on Pornhub, with that cocky grin and those blue eyes that looked like they’d been crafted in a lab. And he wasn’t just standing there looking smug—oh, no, he was on a mission, shirtless, flexing, and smirking at the camera like he was the world’s best-kept secret. The scene panned to him sitting on the edge of a bed, peeling off his belt with one hand, a glint in his eyes that seemed to say, this is what you came for.

“Oh my god,” you muttered, equal parts horrified and morbidly fascinated, as he proceeded to… well, get very familiar with his costar. SergeantBarnes was apparently an expert at multitasking, using every muscle, every inch of his well-equipped arsenal. And the way he was delivering lines? He was clearly treating the camera like it was his soulmate.

By minute two, your jaw had dropped. By minute five, you’d set the laptop on your nightstand to “watch responsibly.” By minute ten, you were convinced Amy and Trish had permanently ruined your life.

And the costar—she was practically putting on an Oscar-worthy performance, her reactions so intense you half expected her to start speaking in tongues. Every time SergeantBarnes’s… rod of justice plunges deep inside, she gasps like she was witnessing a miracle. You scoffed, rolling your eyes. Come on, is that really necessary?

As you watched, he gave a low, rumbling sound—half growl, half sigh—that sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. His gaze burned through the screen with a confidence that was practically magnetic, and suddenly, you understood exactly why the costar was gasping. A new, unbidden heat pooled between your legs, making you shift uncomfortably, instinctively pressing your thighs together as if that could somehow stop the flush creeping up your face. Oh no, now I wish I were her, you thought, immediately cringing at yourself.

With a mix of half-laughter and half-horror, you reached over and slammed the laptop shut so fast it was like you were trying to save yourself from spontaneous combustion. 

“Holy—oh, wow,” you whispered, pressing a hand to your face. “Okay. That was a one-time thing.”

Or so you thought.

Except now, every time you even glanced at your laptop, SergeantBarnes was right there in your mind, reminding you exactly why he was internet-famous. It was becoming a bit of a problem.

× × × ×

The next morning, you stumbled out of your apartment, looking like something that had been left out in the rain and dragged through a blender, mentally cursing last night’s “research” session. The world had no right to be this bright, and your regret levels were at an all-time high as you lugged the world’s heaviest box down the hallway.

You were so absorbed in avoiding a complete breakdown that you barely registered the deep, too-familiar voice beside you.

“Need help with that?”

“Thanks, but I got it,” you muttered automatically, barely sparing him a glance.

Except...then you did.

You looked up, squinting in confusion. Because, standing in front of you, in the perfectly mundane hallway of your perfectly mundane building, was him.

You froze, your brain spinning like a buffering screen. Okay, this guy’s insanely handsome. Tall, broad-shouldered, stubbled jaw, eyes so blue they should have a health warning on them. You stared, mentally cataloging each feature, when—wait a minute... WAIT. A. MINUTE.

Your eyes narrowed, suspicion prickling as your brain finally fired up. Is that…? No, it can’t be.

But it was. Oh, it absolutely was. 

SergeantBarnes, the very star of last night’s “educational” viewing, right here in the flesh. And suddenly, like a tractor beam had locked onto you, your gaze dropped right to his crotch, where you’d witnessed things you could never un-see.

This, of course, did not go unnoticed. His brows shot up as he followed your very obvious, very treacherous line of sight, glancing down at his jeans before looking back up at you with an infuriatingly smug grin.

“Uh… nice shoes?” you blurted out, your face feeling like it was on fire. You vaguely gestured to his boots, wishing you could vanish right into the walls.

“Thanks,” he replied smoothly, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “They’re pretty sturdy. But, you know…” He paused, his voice dropping just a hair. “I don’t think they’re what you were looking at.”

Your heart sank as you forced yourself to look up, his amused blue eyes practically laughing at you. Abort. Abort mission. Oh God, we are way past mission failure.

“Uh—no, I just… um…” You floundered, desperately trying to think of something, anything, that might save you from the hole you’d dug. But no words came. Not even the faintest semblance of a coherent thought. Just one long, silent scream echoing in your brain.

“Bucky,” he offered helpfully, sticking out his hand like he wasn’t SergeantBarnes from Pornhub, but just some guy offering to help with a box. “New neighbor, by the way.”

You stared at his hand like it was a booby trap, your brain short-circuiting as it reminded you exactly where those fingers had been. That hand had gripped… things. It had been places you’d only dreamed of, doing things you’d probably need a core workout just to survive. You could practically see the “viewer discretion advised” warning flashing in your head as you hesitated, still staring at his hand as if it might explode.

But, against your better judgment—and every shred of dignity—you slowly reached out and shook it, feeling your own fingers betray you by sweating as they made contact with his very… experienced ones.

“Uh… hi… I’m… yep.” you blurted, mentally cringing.

“‘Yep’? That’s a good name,” he said, smirking as he let go. “You sure you don’t need help? You seem… a little flustered.”

Flustered? Understatement of the century. If your dignity had been a cup, it was empty, bone-dry, and cracked. You forced yourself to focus, eyes straight forward, pointedly ignoring the very tempting crotch-level view. 

“I’m fine! Totally fine!” you squeaked, cringing at your own voice. Oh God, calm down!

But he just chuckled, that same dangerously cocky smile from last night plastered all over his face. “Alright, Yep. Guess I’ll see you around.”

As he turned to leave, you stood there in the hallway, clutching the box like it was a life raft, heart racing a mile a minute. You’d just had a very public staring incident with SergeantBarnes, your new neighbor, and all you’d managed to say was nice shoes.

I’m gonna need new coworkers, you thought, practically burying your face in the box as you scurried to your apartment.

The door slammed shut with a bang that could probably be heard across state lines. You dropped the box unceremoniously, ignoring the loud thunk as it hit the floor, and whipped your phone out, fingers flying across the screen like you were composing a manifesto.

Guys, you’re NEVER gonna guess who my neighbor is—

You paused, staring at the screen as the rest of the text formed in your mind: THE SergeantBarnes. LIVE. IN. THE. FLESH.

But then another thought stopped you dead in your tracks. Oh no.

You could already picture it: Amy and Trish showing up like rabid fangirls in their “I Heart SergeantBarnes” merch, carrying suspiciously flimsy plates of brownies. Trish would have binoculars. Amy would be taking notes, probably trying to “accidentally” leave her phone number under his door. You shuddered, imagining them cornering him by the mailboxes, all of them acting like they were definitely not the type of women who had his entire catalog bookmarked on their phones.

A horrible realization hit you. If I tell them, this man’s gonna be living a nightmare right next door to me. Not just a nightmare, a Trish-and-Amy-sponsored fan club nightmare, where they might even break into song—probably chanting, “SergeantBarnes! SergeantBarnes!” while he tries to get his groceries.

You looked back at your unsent message and deleted it in one go, feeling weirdly proud of yourself. Yeah, no. I’m not letting them anywhere near him.

Totally altruistic, of course. It had nothing to do with keeping the eye candy to yourself.

You took a deep breath, looking around your empty apartment like you were expecting the FBI to burst through the door at any second. Sure, you’d just been in the hallway with the actual SergeantBarnes, but maybe… maybe you were imagining things. It had been a long day. Moving was stressful. Stranger things had happened, right?

With a surge of resolve (and denial), you dashed to your bedroom, practically sliding across the floor as you went. Your laptop was waiting innocently on the nightstand, and with a quick glance over your shoulder to ensure you were still alone, you opened it up, clicked incognito mode like you were hiding state secrets, and went straight to the website you’d sworn off only hours ago.

“Alright… just to confirm,” you muttered to yourself, feeling your cheeks burn as you typed SergeantBarnes into the search bar, mentally bracing yourself for the flood of results.

And there he was. The whole page filled with him, in various… positions. You swallowed, scrolling until one video caught your eye: “Sergeant Disciplines the Bratty Recruit.”

You snorted, almost slamming the laptop shut. “Oh, for heaven’s sake…”

But curiosity was a dangerous beast, and before you could talk yourself out of it, your finger had already clicked play.

The video started, with SergeantBarnes in all his glory, wearing what looked like the world’s tightest military uniform. His face was as smug as ever, that telltale glint of mischief in his eyes as he muttered something absurd like, “Think you can handle me, recruit?”

“Oh my god,” you whispered, cringing as you half-covered your eyes but peeked through your fingers anyway.

But there was no denying it—the face, the voice, the ridiculous, smoldering look into the camera. There was no escaping it now. It was 100% him. The same guy who was now living approximately ten feet away from your own front door.

As the video continued, your disbelief only grew. This man… this man is next door, could eating cereal right now, you thought, torn between horrified fascination and the urge to laugh. Because there he was, in full “disciplinary action” mode, doing things you could barely process, and here you were, watching it again, just to make sure it was really him.

“Oh, I’m doomed,” you muttered, slapping the laptop shut. You weren’t even sure if you were embarrassed, impressed, or maybe just a little terrified of your own neighbor.

× × × ×

Over the next few days, it was like living in a twisted sitcom. Everywhere you went, he was there, lurking like some kind of sexy, mildly inconvenient specter. It was uncanny. You’d turn a corner, and bam—there he’d be, giving you that polite nod and a smirk that clearly said, I know exactly what you’ve seen.

It started small. You’d step into the elevator, praying for a peaceful ride, and ding! in he’d stroll, flashing that devastating grin. Instantly, you’d stiffen, gluing yourself to the opposite wall, practically trying to meld with the buttons, heart pounding like you were about to pass out. You couldn’t even look him in the eye without flashes of his, uh, “filmography” playing in your mind. Every single time, without fail, you found yourself studying the very clean floor of the elevator as he leaned casually against the wall, the corners of his mouth tugging up.

“Nice day, isn’t it?” he’d ask, all smooth, innocent charm. Meanwhile, you were there like, Oh, totally, perfect day to run into my favorite Pornhub star.

You were in the laundry room, blissfully alone, humming to yourself as you separated your clothes like a responsible adult. Whites here, colors there, delicates—well, you were kind of just tossing them wherever at this point. Then, suddenly, you felt it: a shift in the air, a presence. You froze, the hair on the back of your neck standing up, a sock suspended mid-toss in your hand. Why do I feel like the music should be getting dramatic right about now?

Slowly, as if sensing his approach, you turned. And there he was—Bucky, striding in with a laundry basket filled with a suspiciously pristine pile of perfectly folded, incredibly manly clothing. It was as if he’d just stepped out of some kind of… laundry commercial. Or worse… one of his own videos.

You blinked, eyes widening as a thousand clichés suddenly flashed through your mind. Oh no, why does this feel like the start of a porn? you thought, biting your lip as you realized the two of you were, in fact, very alone, surrounded by washing machines and suspiciously warm lighting. You mentally kicked yourself. Snap out of it! This is laundry. Regular, boring laundry.

Bucky caught your eye, giving you an amused once-over. “Doing some laundry?” he asked, his voice low and casual, but somehow it felt like the most suggestive question in the world.

You opened your mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “Uh-huh,” you managed, trying to sound like a normal human being. “Just, uh… laundry.”

Your face felt like it was on fire as you realized half of your load was underwear, strewn everywhere. Panties, bras, socks—they were all there in their mismatched glory, practically screaming, We’re personal items! Pay extra attention! You yanked your gaze away from the pile, mortified, and flung the sock into the washer like you were trying to disarm a bomb.

You slammed the washer lid down, feeling like you’d just revealed way too much. But Bucky only grinned, strolling over with that maddening swagger. He tossed a shirt into the washer beside you, leaning against it with a smirk.

“Nice sorting skills,” he commented, eyes flicking down to the very obvious pile of bras and lace that you’d tried to hide. “Very… thorough.”

“Yep!” you squeaked, feeling like you might explode. You fumbled with the detergent bottle, struggling to open it as your brain went into full-blown panic mode. Why does this feel like one of those videos? Don’t look at him. Just don’t look. Pretend you’re alone. Pretend this is fine.

But of course, he wasn’t making it any easier. He folded his arms, watching you with a raised brow, the picture of calm while you were desperately trying to load underwear without dying of embarrassment. 

“You know,” he said, clearly holding back a laugh, “usually people try to separate colors from whites.”

“Oh, I do! I mean, I… it’s a system,” you stammered, feeling like you were caught in a lie by the laundry police. “Sometimes it’s… it’s an artistic choice.”

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling with that insufferable amusement. “Artistic laundry, huh? Didn’t take you for the experimental type.”

“Yep,” you said, forcing a laugh as you stuffed in the last sock, your hands moving at lightning speed, desperate to finish and escape.

But as you turned to leave, he held up a stray bra that had somehow escaped your grasp, dangling it between two fingers with a raised eyebrow. 

“You forgot this,” he said, voice dripping with that same mischievous humor.

You stared at the bra in horror, feeling your face go molten. 

“Uh… thanks,” you mumbled, practically ripping it out of his hand and stuffing it into the washer, slamming the lid down one last time before you spun on your heel and speed-walked out of there.

Behind you, you heard him chuckle softly, his voice echoing in the hallway. “See you around, neighbor.”

Yep, you thought, already halfway down the hall, never doing laundry again.

By day three, it got ridiculous. You’d ducked into the mailroom, hoping he was out doing normal human things—maybe mowing a lawn or whatever. But no, as soon as you opened your mailbox, there he was, standing by his own, sorting through a stack of letters. You froze, briefly considering whether you could just flee and come back later for your electric bill.

And then… the grocery bag incident.

You were in the hallway, arms overloaded with bags because, naturally, you’d ignored the cart right by the entrance and had instead decided to carry it all in one go. You were so close to your door when you heard footsteps behind you.

“Need help?” he asked, that voice making you nearly fumble every bag in your arms.

You turned, scrambling to say, “No, I’m good,” but of course, in your panic, one of your bags tipped, and a lone, horrifying item fell out and hit the floor. You watched, paralyzed, as the little bottle of lube rolled out with an audible clatter, spinning lazily to a stop right in front of him.

You could practically feel the heat exploding from your cheeks. No. Oh no. Not like this.

You looked up, meeting his amused, slightly raised eyebrows as his lips twitched, clearly fighting a smile. 

“Uh,” you choked out, unable to form a single coherent sentence. Think fast, make it sound normal, you told yourself, even though every possible explanation was racing out of your head.

He bent down, picking up the bottle with a glint of pure mischief in his eyes, inspecting it like he’d just found evidence of some grand crime.

“Hey, everyone’s got needs,” he said, deadpan, but that twinkle in his eye was anything but innocent. “Don’t worry.” He tossed you a wink, handing the bottle back like it was no big deal.

Your mouth opened, then closed, then opened again as your brain scrambled to form a sentence. Finally, the words tumbled out like a train wreck, your dignity left somewhere back at the grocery store.

“It’s… it’s for my friend,” you squeaked, clutching the lube bottle with both hands like it was a sacred artifact. He raised an eyebrow, looking entirely too entertained for your liking. “She’s, uh, she’s constipated.”

A moment of silence.

“She needs it to… you know, help with a suppository.” You forced a grin that you were sure looked more like a grimace. “She, uh… can’t get things moving. Really jammed up in there.”

Bucky’s face twisted in barely suppressed laughter, and his shoulders shook as he struggled to keep a straight face. 

“Right,” he drawled, nodding with an expression that was one part pity and two parts are you for real? “That’s… thoughtful of you.”

You felt like you were overheating, a human furnace on the verge of combustion. 

“She’s desperate!” you blurted, doubling down on your ridiculous story, even though every fiber of your being was screaming to stop talking. “I’m just being a good friend, you know? Supportive. I mean, she’s the one who’s backed up.”

He nodded again, still fighting a smile, the look in his eyes a mix of amusement and something else that made your pulse race. 

“Sure,” he said, “nothing like helping a friend in need.” He paused, that wicked smile growing as he added, “In my experience, though, there are plenty of other uses for it.”

Your soul left your body.

He held out his hands in mock innocence, chuckling as your eyes widened to saucers. 

“Just saying,” he winked. “Versatile stuff.” 

And with that, he turned, strolling down the hall with a casual wave, leaving you frozen and mortified, clutching the bottle to your chest like a lifeline.

“Gotta… go,” you managed, voice barely a whisper, stumbling the last few steps to your door as you fumbled with the keys, practically falling inside.

The second the door shut behind you, you pressed your back against it, staring at the ceiling and whispering, “I’m never leaving my apartment again.”

Just as you were about to bury your face in your hands and live in the sweet, silent embrace of shame, your phone buzzed. You pulled it out, still reeling from the lube disaster, and saw a text from your friend, Clara.

Clara: Hey!! Did you get the lube?? Need it ASAP, things are… not moving over here, if you catch my drift.

You groaned, staring at the message, letting it sink in that yes, this entire disaster had been real. 

You: Yes. Got it. Never speaking of this again.

Clara: Bless you, you lifesaver. My digestive system owes you a standing ovation.

You rolled your eyes, still red-faced. Clara had no idea you’d just had to explain the entire situation to your painfully attractive neighbor—who now likely thought you were a walking sitcom.

× × × ×

It started subtly—just a little teasing, or so you thought. But it quickly spiraled into a game you could only describe as Bucky Barnes: Merciless Teasing—Extended Cut. Every time you crossed paths, he managed to twist the knife just a little deeper, making you sweat, stumble, and practically choke on your own words.

The first time it happened, you were hauling a huge box out of your car, trying to look capable and independent, when he strolled up beside you, leaning against the car with a smirk.

“You act like I’m a celebrity,” he said, eyebrow cocked. “Every time you see me, you look ready to run.”

You fumbled, nearly dropping the box. 

“Nope! I’m just…uh, busy!” you squeaked, scrambling to walk away at top speed, box clutched to your chest like a shield. But you caught his laugh as you rushed off, making you want to evaporate on the spot.

The next time, you were in the stairwell, headphones in, desperately trying to avoid any more awkward run-ins. Naturally, the moment you looked up, there he was, lounging at the landing like some kind of paid actor in a commercial. You froze mid-step as he raised a brow.

“Look at that,” he said, giving you the once-over, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost every time you see me. Is it something I did?”

You stammered, turning pink. 

“No! Just, uh… headphones! Music! Loud music!” you blurted, before speed-walking up the stairs, praying he didn’t hear the Spice Girls song you’d been blasting. Behind you, his chuckle echoed up the stairwell like the final taunt of a villain.

But the absolute worst came at the coffee shop.

You were in line, looking at your phone, hoping you could just breeze in and out. The moment you placed your order and turned to leave, there he was, standing right behind you, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Hey, neighbor,” he drawled, eyeing your coffee cup like it was some incriminating evidence. “Funny running into you here. Or… do you keep running into me?”

Your face flushed, and you tried to think of something clever, but it was like all your brain cells had gone on vacation. 

“Nope! Definitely just getting coffee! I don’t even… live near here!” you babbled, immediately regretting everything.

“Oh, interesting,” he replied, his grin widening. “Because I could swear you live right next door. But hey, if you want to keep pretending you don’t know me, I’ll go along with it.” He handed you your coffee with a wink. “See you around… or not.”

But things took a turn for the mortifying when, one evening, you were pacing the hallway on the phone with Clara, trying to vent without actually collapsing in a pile of awkwardness.

“It’s him, Clara!” you hissed, oblivious to the fact that you were pacing right outside Bucky’s door. “I’m living next door to SergeantBarnes! Can you believe this? I’ve seen everything he has to offer! I’ve practically studied him!”

Clara was howling with laughter, but you were too wrapped up in your frustration to care.

“And he knows, Clara! He keeps showing up everywhere, saying stuff like, ‘You seem nervous’ and ‘You keep looking at me like you know something I don’t.’ I swear, he’s doing it on purpose!” You paused, sighing dramatically. “The man is basically torturing me!”

“Yeah?” Clara snorted. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

“Nothing! I’m gonna hide in my apartment forever! I mean, the guy is—” You froze mid-sentence, sensing a presence that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Please, for the love of all that is holy, no.

You slowly turned, and there he was. Bucky. Leaning against his door, arms crossed, looking like he’d just won the freaking lottery.

“Oh… my god…” you whispered, feeling your soul leave your body. He was watching you with an expression of pure, unfiltered amusement, one eyebrow quirked, lips pulled into that infuriating, knowing smirk.

“Well,” he said, voice laced with mischief. “That makes one of us.” His eyes glinted with barely-contained laughter. “And here I thought you were just a fan of my boots.”

You could practically feel your brain cells going up in smoke. 

“I… uh… well… I…” you stammered, cheeks burning. “Boots… are great,” you managed, wanting to sink into the earth.

“Yeah? Because I seem to remember you looking… elsewhere last time,” he teased, stepping a little closer, enjoying every second of your embarrassment.

“Oh, no! Just… boots!” you squeaked, backing up, practically tripping over yourself. “I really should go… water my… uh… plants!”

He chuckled, savoring every second of your panic. “Good luck with that,” he said, throwing in one last wink as he slipped back into his apartment, leaving you in the hallway, feeling like you’d just gone through a slow-motion car crash.

Back in your apartment, you slid down the door, hands over your face as Clara’s laughter erupted over the phone.

“Boots?” she howled. “THAT’S what you went with? Boots?”

You groaned, banging your head back against the door. “Shut up, Clara.”

× × × ×

Determined to reclaim a shred of your dignity, you strode into the local coffee shop, praying for a quiet morning with zero embarrassing encounters. But, as if on cue, the universe had other plans.

There, right at the counter, was Bucky. He spotted you instantly, his face lighting up with that all-too-familiar grin that had haunted your dreams. There was no escape.

He waved you over, and before you could even think of pretending you hadn’t seen him, he was calling out, “Morning, neighbor! What’s your coffee order again?” His voice was loud enough that half the shop turned to look.

“Oh, um… it’s…” you stammered, but he’d already waved to the barista.

“Got it covered,” he said, leaning casually against the counter, eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’ve got a feeling you like it with extra cream.”

You choked on your own saliva, feeling your face turn crimson as he handed you the cup with a wink. 

“Unless I’m wrong?” he added with a smirk, feigning innocence.

“N-Nope, that’s right!” you managed, grabbing the cup like it was a shield. “Extra cream… perfect.”

He chuckled, gesturing to an empty booth in the corner. “Great. Then you won’t mind sitting down with me for breakfast.”

“Oh no, really, I should—”

He raised an eyebrow. “What, got somewhere better to be?”

You froze, helplessly aware that the entire coffee shop was listening in. You managed a nervous laugh, mumbling, “Well… no, I guess not…”

Before you knew it, you were sitting across from him, desperately trying to keep your eyes anywhere but his face, your cheeks burning as he sipped his coffee and watched you with a smug smile.

“So,” he said, leaning forward, “what’s a girl like you doing watching a guy like me online, anyway?”

Your jaw dropped, coffee cup halfway to your mouth. “I—I wasn’t watching—It was research!” you spluttered, already kicking yourself for falling right into his trap.

He chuckled, clearly reveling in your embarrassment. 

“Oh, sure, ‘research,’” he said, nodding like he totally believed you. “I get it. You know, it’s important to be informed.”

You practically shrank into your seat, glancing around to see if anyone else had heard. “Could you not say that so loudly?”

He smirked, taking a long, deliberate sip of his coffee. 

“Relax, I’m just curious,” he said, leaning in close enough that you could smell his aftershave. “Gotta say, it’s a little flattering to have a fan right next door.”

Your brain completely short-circuited. “Fan? I—no! I mean, not like that… I… I barely even…” You could feel the lie crumbling in your throat as his smirk deepened.

“Uh-huh. Then why did you look like you were about to sprint every time you saw me?” He tilted his head, studying you, eyes twinkling. “And I swear you turned pink the second you walked in here.”

Your hands shot up, covering your cheeks. “I did not! You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?” he said, leaning back with a satisfied grin. “Because it’s like clockwork. Every time I’m around, you look like you’ve been caught red-handed. I don’t mind, you know,” he added, shrugging nonchalantly. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”

You let out a strangled laugh, ready to crawl under the table. 

“That’s… obvious,” you muttered, feeling as though you might combust at any second.

“Okay, so since we’re having breakfast together, how about you tell me: any favorite scenes?” He laughed, looking entirely too amused as he stirred his coffee.

You practically choked on your coffee, face flaming as you tried to hide behind your cup. 

“I—I can’t believe you just asked that!” you squeaked, horrified and unable to meet his gaze.

“Oh, come on,” he grinned, clearly enjoying every second. “It’s just small talk. I mean, who better to ask than a neighbor?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Can we please pretend this conversation never happened?”

“Nope. Can’t do that,” he replied, laughing. “I think it’s a little late for that.”

Just as you were starting to pray for an earthquake to swallow you whole, you glanced up at him, cheeks still flaming. 

“Did you… did you know I recognized you this whole time?”

He leaned back, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. 

“Of course I did,” he said, laughing. “Figured it out the second I saw that look on your face. I just wanted to see if you’d ever bring it up.”

“Oh my god,” you muttered, feeling mortification seep into your very bones. “And you kept messing with me?”

“Of course,” he said, raising an eyebrow with a wicked grin. “I was just waiting to see how long it would take for you to crack. Guess now the ice is broken, huh?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “You’re the worst.”

He winked, finishing his coffee. “Yeah, but I make breakfast interesting, don’t I?”

You laughed, feeling the last traces of embarrassment fade away—well, at least enough to breathe normally again. But just as you started to feel almost… comfortable, Bucky tilted his head, giving you a curious look.

“So, neighbor,” he said, smirking, “I’ve gotta ask… what’s your name?”

You blinked, realizing with a jolt that you’d never actually told him. In all your attempts to dodge, deflect, and survive the relentless teasing, you hadn’t even bothered to introduce yourself.

“Oh… right,” you mumbled, feeling your cheeks heat up again. “I, uh, guess I never actually said.”

“Nope,” he replied, leaning in with a grin. “I just assumed you wanted to keep a little mystery between us.”

You rolled your eyes, though a smile tugged at your lips. “Trust me, I’m not that mysterious.”

“Really?” he replied, eyebrows raised. “Because all this time I’ve been calling you ‘Yep.’”

Your face went red as you remembered the first time you’d stammered a barely coherent “yep” instead of an introduction. “Oh my god. You haven’t been calling me that in your head this whole time, have you?”

He shrugged, smirking. “It’s kind of cute. Suits you, actually.”

You groaned, but laughed despite yourself, finally holding out your hand across the table. “Alright. I’m Y/N. Officially.”

“Y/N,” he repeated, taking your hand, his grip warm and firm. His smirk softened into something a little more genuine. “Good to meet you, Y/N. Officially.”

His hand lingered in yours for a beat longer than necessary, and for a moment, there was no teasing, no innuendos—just the two of you, sitting across the table, smiling like two normal people who’d just met under… semi-normal circumstances.

Then, just as you were starting to think maybe, just maybe, you could get used to this weirdly charming neighbor situation, he leaned back, that mischievous glint creeping back into his eyes.

“Now that we’re on a first-name basis,” he said, winking, “you can tell me all about your favorite scenes. You know, for professional feedback.”

You burst out laughing, face in your hands as he watched you with a triumphant grin. Yep, you thought, already regretting nothing and everything.

[eleanorfenyx]

Adding @yibo-wang ‘s new tags in reply:

WANG YIBO as SECRETARY YE HIDDEN BLADE (2023) | 无名, dir. Cheng Er

[the-joy-of-knowledge]

Becoming an Intelligent Woman

My Dears,

There is no greater goal than being a fine woman who is intelligent, kind, and elegant. As much as we all want to be described with these adjectives, it takes a great amount of discipline to get there. It is very doable only if you are ready to put in the work.

Here are steps you can add to your routine in the next 4 weeks that will make you 1% more intelligent than you were before. This is a process that should become a habit not a goal. It is long term, however, I want you to devote just 4 weeks into doing these steps first and recognize the changes that follow.

Watch documentaries: This is the easiest step, we all have access to Youtube. Youtube has a great number of content on art, history, technology, food, science etc that will increase your knowledge and pique your curiosity. I really did not know much about world history especially from the perspective of World war 1 & 2, the roaring 20s, Age of Enlightenment, Jazz era, monarchies etc but with several channels dedicated to breaking down history into easily digestible forms. I have in the last 4 weeks immersed myself into these documentaries. Here are a few I watched:

The fall of monarchies

The Entire History of United Kingdom

The Eight Ages of Greece

World War 1

World War 2

The Roaring '20s

The Cuisine of the Enlightenment

2. Read Classics: I recommend starting with short classics so that you do not get easily discouraged. Try to make reading easy and interesting especially if you struggle with finishing a book. Why classics? You see, if you never went to an exclusive private school in Europe or America with well crafted syllabus that emphasized philosophy, history, art, and literary classics, you might want to know what is felt like and for me this was a strong reason. Asides that, there is so much wisdom and knowledge available in these books. In these books, you gain insights to the authors mind, the historical context of the era, the ingenuity of the author, the hidden messages, and the cultural impact of these books. Most importantly, you develop your personal philosophy from the stories and lessons you have accumulated from the lives of the characters in the books you read. Here are classics to get you started:

Animal Farm by George Orwell

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë

The Great Gatsby by F Scott Fitzgerald

Candide by Voltaire

Paradise lost by John Milton

3. Study the lives of people who inspire you: I dedicate one month to each person that fascinates me. I read their biography (date of birth, background, death, influences, work, style, education, personal life) For this month, I decided to study Frank Lloyd Wright because I was fascinated by the Guggenheim Museum in New York. I began to read about his influence in American Architecture (Organic architecture, Prairie School, Usonian style), his tumultuous personal life, his difficult relationship with his mentor (Louis Sullivan), his most iconic works etc. By the end of the year I would have learned the ins and outs of people I am inspired by through books and documentaries. Here are other people I plan to learn more about:

Winston Churchill

Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis

Ada Lovelace

Benjamin Franklin

Helen Keller

John Nash

Isabella Stewart Gardner

Caroline Herrera

Ernest Hemingway

Catherine the Great

Ann Lowe

My dears, I hope you enjoyed this read. I cannot wait to write more on my journey to becoming a fine woman. I urge you to do this for four weeks and see what changes you notice. Make sure to write as well, it is important to document your progress.

Cheers to a very prosperous 2024!