#we. don’t believe things will get better | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dixonsbrat · 3 days ago

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── .✦ 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐎 𝐔 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐃? ┆ 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 ; after weeks of visiting the video store in the hopes of catching steve’s attention, it seems that your efforts weren’t entirely pointless.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ; steve harrington x fem!reader , fluff , steve being oblivious and robin on her queen shit getting things done.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ; 1.8k .ᐟ

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ; love me some ditzy nervous stevie <33

“y/n, hey!” robin waves the second you enter the small video store, the smell of freshly cleaned carpet and plastic invading your senses. you and the other girl were quick to become friends, getting on over your shared love for certain movies. "what are we in the mood for today?"

“i’m not sure, but... i do need to return this.” you smile, gesturing to the tape in your hand, and she bounds towards you, leaving behind her trolley of already returned tapes.

“follow me and i will get steve to take care of you… as always.” a roguish grin takes over her features, and she leads you towards the counter where steve was currently on the phone.

it was no secret to robin that you had been fawning over the boy for some time now, even going as far as to make extra trips to the store just to see him, but she swore with scouts honour that she wouldn’t tell him. it didn’t come as much of a shock to her though, most of the girls that came in just wanted to stare at him, but not you — you actually wanted to get to know him.

for weeks you had been trying to get his attention, trying to figure out if he was the least bit interested in you, but to no avail. sure, he would joke around and act flirty, but he did that with most of the girls that would come in. you were no different.

however, what you didn’t know was that every saturday afternoon, steve would purposely sit by the front counter just in the hopes that you would walk through the door. he would tell robin that it was his turn to take over the returns and man the phones, but she knew better than to believe him. he just wanted to make sure he was the one that got to serve you if, and when, you decided to come in, and every time that you did, he did.

as you approach the counter, you can’t help but admire steve as he’s visibly lost in the conversation he was having. he was certainly a sight for sore eyes. what with his chocolate locks brushed out of his face as a few loose strands fell across his forehead. he was wearing a sweater that was unbuttoned at the top, giving the smallest glimpse of his chest and the mound of hair that now grew upon it.

the phone was tucked between his ear and shoulder as he leaned over the counter, idly fiddling with a silver slinky. he was yet to look up at you, but you didn't mind, it gave you a few extra moments to admire him.

“oi, dingus!” robin pulls the cord far enough away to fly back and hit him in the face. “we have customers, you know?”

“robin, what the f-” he retorts, his face scrunching with annoyance, but the second he sees you standing beside her, he wastes no time in hanging up the phone.

he couldn't believe he had missed you walk in. he had been so distracted by dustin talking about his stupid club that he had completely zoned out.

“y/n, hey. what can, i, uh, d-do for you?” he smiles, but it falters for a ghost of a second, and he swallows hard.

ribin snickers, rolling her eyes as she walks away, “okay, that’s my cue to go take my lunch break.”

you chuckle softly at the girl, knowing well enough that she just wanted to leave the two of you alone. when you look back at the boy, he's already staring at you, and he stammers for a second, “just returning this for today.”

“fast times…” steve’s voice fades off as you place the tape on the counter and a breathy laugh escapes him.

“yeah... and don’t worry. i didn’t pause it at 53 minutes and 5 seconds.” you narrow your eyes at him slightly, referring to the inside joke robin had told you about, as a smirk plays on your lips, and you lean across the opposite side of the counter.

steve opens his mouth to talk, but nothing comes out other than an incoherent mumble as his mouth forms an 'o', before he says, "okay."

he continues to check the movie back into the system, his eyes grazing over you every few seconds as you gaze around the store. the sun was shining in through the front windows, illuminating your features as it danced across your skin. steve was at a loss as to how someone so beautiful could ever exist.

you truly were an enigma, and he so desperately wanted to be the one to figure you out.

the first time he saw you, you were standing in the third aisle, wearing a deep green sweater and browsing the horror section. he was intrigued by your choice of movies, bringing ‘a nightmare on elm street’ and ‘baby it’s you’ to the front counter. you were smiling, but it wasn’t animated like most of the girls he had to deal with.

you were the breath of fresh air in the tainted town of hawkins that he had been so desperately looking for.

“you're not hiring another movie today?” his brows pinch together with confusion. you’d never not choose another movie to take home.

you shake your no, “uh, no.”

he shakes his head, and says, “what? you’re not impressed with what we have in stock?."

“oh, no. it’s not that.”

“good. because i was a little worried we were losing one of our favourite customers for a second there.” the words come out so fast that steve doesn’t acknowledge what he had said until it was too late, and his eyes widen with realisation.

“favourite customer, huh?” you rest your chin in your hand and gaze up at the boy, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of your lips.

you watch as he shuffles awkwardly on his feet and then laughs nervously, "yeah. robin! she, uh, she's really fond of you."

a small silence ensues as he continues checking in your movie, and your heart begins to thrum loudly in your ears. so loud that you were finding it hard to remain calm as you watched him type away on the computer.

was he being extra flirty, or were you just imagining it?

"alright, you are good to go," he turns back to you, placing his hands on the counter and leaning forward. "though, there is one slight problem."

"yeah? and what’s that?"

"it's just... i can't have you leaving here empty handed, can i?" he cocks his head to the side, brows raised as a devilish grin dangled on the corner of his lips.

"well, then..." you heave a deep sigh, eyes fixed on him as you pull back a little. "what would you recommend?"

his face lights up, and he gleams at you, snapping his fingers as he backs away to head toward the shelves. he immediately starts rummaging through the array of videotapes in search of something he thought you would enjoy when he pulls out 'the breakfast club'.

scrunching up your nose, you shake your head, "seen it."

"yeah, you're right. super popular movie." he nods and returns to his search. his fingers hover over 'risky business' but the second he starts to pull it out, he puts it right back. "how about this?" he hands you a tape, your fingers just grazing one another's and the sudden contact takes you by surprise.

the already rapid beating of your heart fastens as your breath catches in your throat, and you quickly take the tape. pulling your eyes away, you scan over the video to see it was another you had seen and hand it back.

disappointed, he nods and places the video back on the shelf, but instead of returning to his search this time, he knocks his fist on the top of the shelf for a second and then exhales deeply. he was tired of constantly second-guessing himself, wondering if there was even a slight chance that you liked him too. it had been driving him crazy not knowing, and he was at his whits end.

"steve, are you okay?" you ask, apprehensive as to why he was suddenly acting a little weird now.

"i, uh, i just-" he gets cut off when something flies at his head and a grape falls to the floor in front of him. screwing up his face, he turns to see robin sticking her head over the shelf a couple of aisles away. "what the hell, robin?"

"would you please just stop wasting the girl's time and ask her out already!" she exclaims and shoves a couple of grapes into her mouth.

"robin!" he proclaims, his jaw tensing as he closes his eyes momentarily.

"what? i'm doing you a favour. she likes you too!"

"robin!" this time her name leaves your lips.

"oh my god, seriously the two of you are so oblivious it’s driving me crazy.” she groans, and throws another grape in your direction.

inhaling deeply, steve slowly turns back to you with softened eyes as your chest fell and rose with rapid breaths. he looked almost apologetic as he now met your gaze, and your body stiffened.

"is that true?" he asks with disbelief.

"i mean... yeah..." you shrug, removing your gaze to look at the ground, and when you look back up, his eyes are boring into you. "you really think i kept coming in here just to rent movies?"

steve lowers his head and scratches at the back of his neck nervously. he couldn't believe the words that had just fallen from your mouth. sure, he had hoped that you felt the same way about him, that he did you, but to have you stand before him and practically admit it, he was over the moon.

"really?" he asks softly, brows upturned with hope.

"yeah, really. i know that makes me a total loser, but-"

"no. no, it doesn't." he starts to laugh, his shoulders shaking as he does.

jutting your bottom lip out, you say, "then why are you laughing at me?"

"because you're so damn cute," his remark causes the air in your throat to catch once again, and he takes a step toward you.

though before he can get so much as a syllable out another grape hits him in the back of the head, "ask her out already!"

"can't you see that that's what i'm trying to do?" he lifts his arms in irritation, shaking his head, as he turns back to you once more. "let's try this again," he rolls his eyes. "would you... like to go out with me some time?"

you pause with bewilderment, a nervous smile causing your lip to quiver slightly before nodding, "j'd like that, but only if you promise no more movies!"

"deal."

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shurisneakers · 9 hours ago

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unsolved (viii)

Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)

Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky, obnoxious reader, mentions of hauntings and the paranormal, the passage of time, panicking,

A/N: omg guys new banner reveal. i put a flower on that man because i felt like it. personally thrilled that we have made it this far because that means it's only 2 more chapters to 10 and then we're in double digits. also unsolved drabble requests are very welcome and encouraged please ily THANKS BYE

Previous part || Series masterlist

“I don’t get it,” Bucky says, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets.

Inside the room, the air is thick with dust and the scent of aged metal. The walls are lined with dark wooden beams, their surfaces weathered by time, and the faint smell of oil and rust lingers in the air.

“It’s a haunted clock tower,” you reply, walking up the stairs, floorboards creaking generously under you.

“I got that,” he retorts, “but what the hell is it supposed to haunt? All the search results were just some kids' show.”

In the center of the room stands the massive, intricate clock mechanism, the gears and cogs slowly gathering rust as the years have passed without maintenance. Moonlight through the giant clock face casts a faint glow into the dimly lit room.

“I’m surprised you checked the internet,” you tell him, “I didn’t know you knew how to do that.”

He rolls his eyes. “I was an undercover agent for 80 years. I know how to use technology.”

“You’re also older than the concept of time, so you can see how that may confuse some people,” you reply, taking a tour around the room. “Second, I’m surprised you checked the internet.”

“You already said that.”

You stop in your tracks, hand on your chest as you say, “Yes, but you’re researching things now? For our show? That’s real sweet, babygirl.”

He scoffs, shaking his head as he continues to climb up. “It was one Google search.”

“It’s one more than what you’ve done in the last 3 months,” you say, eyelashes fluttering comically at him before your demeanor returns to normal. “Anyway, there’s no like, ghost sightings here, per se–��

Bucky comes to a halt only two steps away from his door. “Then why are we here?”

“It’s still haunted, Bucky,” you chastise. “That doesn’t always mean ghosts. Maybe it could mean orbs. Or shadow people, like from the hospital–”

“Not a thing.”

The clock creaked and groaned, the hands inching forward, their motion sluggish and uneven, as if the gears hadn't been properly oiled in years. With every tick, a loud whine echoed through the tower, vibrating the air in the otherwise silent room.

“Ooh, maybe we’ll find our doppelgangers.” Your eyes shine. “What would you do with yours?”

“Nothing.” Steve met another version of himself once and immediately beat the shit out of it, if that was anything to go by.

“Not even a date?”

His eyebrows knit together, eyes creasing. “Why would I date my doppelganger?”

“Who’s gonna know you better than yourself? But the more important question is, would you fu–”

The noise from the clock grows more intense—a final, desperate groan before it comes to a jarring halt.

The ticking stops abruptly, leaving an unnatural silence hanging in the air. The hands remain frozen at 9.

Both of you are left staring at a now defunct clock.

“Clock died ‘cause of your stupid question,” Bucky comments, voice dry.

“Just say you don’t like modern philosophy and go.”

“Oh I’m going alright. Two hours and all we’ve gotten footage of is stairs, trash and a washout Big Ben.”

“Don’t insult Kinley Clock Tower like that,” you scold. “You’re gonna piss it off and it’s gonna haunt us for the rest of our days.”

Bucky gives you a flat look. “By doing what.”

“Showing you the wrong time wherever you go.”

“Devastating,” Bucky responds, not sounding fazed in the slightest. “Right, so nothing haunted here?”

“Maybe it’s haunted by the failure of proper clock maintenance.”

Bucky’s eyes sweep across the largely empty room one last time. “Other than that toolbox, place’s empty. Chalk this one up to bullshit and let’s go.”

You let out a deep sigh at the thought of a wasted evening. “Fine, but that means we have to find another idea for a video.”

“Use one of the reserves.”

“We’re gonna have to, if we can’t find anything by tomorrow.”

Bucky’s heavy footsteps echo through the staircase. “That is a problem for tomorrow-you to deal with.”

You let out a scoff, following behind. “Tomorrow-us.”

“No,” he replies thoughtfully. “Pretty sure I got it right.”

Whatever. You counted tonight as a win the second you managed to get Bucky out of the compound without having to lie out of your ass. He even threw in a Google search worth of research. And he even told you the batteries on the cameras were all charged. Small steps for a regular co-host, big step for Buckykind everywhere.

The elevator stops at his floor and he gets out, sending you a two finger wave on his way out.

Should I walk you to your door?” you throw in at the last minute, the makings of a smile on your face.

Bucky casts you an indignant look. “Why?”

“Chivalry, baby.” You grin, leaning against the wall of the elevator. “Didn't they literally invent it in your era?”

Bucky flips you the finger instead, not bothering to dignify you with a response. Your laughter subsides as the elevator closes on you with a ding.

Bucky sees a faint light in the hallway, and figures Steve’s slightly ajar door is its source. In between trudging back to his bedroom, he drops a quick knock on it.

“Come in,” Steve calls, voice deep from the sleepiness starting to set in. “Oh, you’re back.”

“Yeah,” Bucky replies from the doorway. “Shoot got done early.”

“Where’d you go?” he asks, laying down his book beside him.

“Kinley Tower,” Buck stands with his arms pulled over his chest, leaning against the doorway. “Place was a dud. Nothing to see.”

“What about other things?” Steve asks, curious but still casually indirect. “How was it?”

Bucky shrugs. “The same. Bounced right back, like nothing ever happened.”

“You still don’t know what Nat was talking about?”

“No,” Bucky replies, scratching the back of his neck, before hesitantly saying, “Should I be asking? I don’t know if we’re— y’know.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re friends by now, Buck.” Steve smiles briefly. “Wouldn’t hurt to check in.”

Well, Steve may be sure, but Bucky wasn’t. Then again Steve only had 1 best friend for over a hundred years until he met Sam, so how the fuck would he know.

Still, Bucky gives a curt nod, glancing around Steve’s room for any notable changed but coming up empty handed.

“You wanna tell me why there’s several charges on my card for tarot websites?” Steve picks up his book again, thumbing through the pages.

“Wasn’t me,” Bucky grunts.

“Seems a bit suspect after you did an episode on witchcraft,” Steve speaks without lifting an eye from his book. “Could just be me though.”

It catches him by surprise. “You watch our episodes?”

Steve quirks an eyebrow. “Yes? Every last one.”

“Oh,” Bucky mumbles, finding everything else in the room infinitely more interesting all of a sudden.

“Looks like it’s doing you some good,” Steve continues, turning back to his novel. “It’s nice to see you out and about.”

“What’s that s’pposed to mean?” Bucky gives him a look that could be seen as peeved if the blond hadn’t known him for as long has he had been alive.

Steve hides a smile. “Nothing. Left some apples on your nightstand. Eat it if you’re hungry.”

It forces Bucky to try to catch onto Steve's train of thought. Sure you hung out occasionally after work, but it wasn’t like you were hanging out on a friends basis. Bucky definitely would know if you were, because it would be a laborious task to even get him to consider leaving his bedroom. A thousand elephants would not be able to make him go do things that friends do.

So he stares at him for another whole minute waiting for a follow up, a clarification, but Steve makes no other comment, only turning the page of his novel.

Bucky finally leaves silently, shutting the door behind him.

Sure enough, there are apples and a fork on his nightstand. They were good too, crisp like Steve had gotten them from the market just today.

By eleven Bucky’s already in bed, eyes straining as he watches this woodworking guy on YouTube teach him how to make a dovetailed box. For no reason. And just because he heard Sam mention offhand that he needed a place for all his keys doesn’t mean Bucky was making it for him.

From: co-host

how about we take a road trip down to washington to go meet my dear friend

From: co-host

From: bucky (avengers) (guy with the hair)

what friend

mr quatch himself

From: co-host

first name ‘sas’

From: co-host

i’m talking about bigfoot

From: bucky (avengers) (guy with the hair)

yeah i got it

From: bucky (avengers) (guy with the hair)

when

From: co-host

well we’d have to start at 4am

From: bucky (avengers) (guy with the hair)

fuck no

From: bucky (avengers) (guy with the hair)how about something within a 5 mile radius

From: co-host

How about Sunday

Bucky switches his phone all the way off and tosses it onto the bed beside him, smothering his face into the pillow.

From: co-host

How about your mom

He’d deal with your nonsense tomorrow.

And probably fill the gas tank for a trip to Washington.

Bucky’s eyes snap open when the cold air hits his face. He keeps his window shut all the way,every single night.

He blinks several times before his eyes adjust to the darkness of his surroundings.

“Bucky?” a disembodied voice comes from beside him.

His head whips to the side, making him realise that one, he was standing, and two, he had no idea how long he’d been standing for.

Only, he finds you next to him, looking disoriented like you’d just been shaken awake from a nap.

“Where the hell–” your voice trails off as you take note of where you’d landed up.

In front of him, mechanical gears whine as they scrape against each other in a desperate attempt to move.

He peers down at his clothes; the same black t-shirt, jacket and cargo pants he distinctly remembers changed out of nearly an hour ago.

“What the fuck,” Bucky snaps. “Did you bring us back here?”

“No,” you say, face rigid, solemn. “I swear I didn’t. I was gonna ask you the same thing.”

Bucky’s shoulders loosen. “No, I was asleep.”

The wind rustles by, and everything looks exactly the same as when you left it nearly 3 hours ago.

“We’re back at Kinley,” he tests it, taking a step forward. “What just happened?”

“This is weird, right?” you put forth, clearing your throat. “I definitely was going to send you a text about the next video idea, and the next thing I know you’re in front of me. I’m not dreaming, am I?”

Bucky pinches the inside of his arm. The skin comes back red and stinging.

“No, it’s real,” he murmurs. “Unless this is a weird fuckin’ dream that I’m having.”

It wouldn’t be the first time you showed up in his dreams either. He just doesn’t remember any of them being so… vivid.

“I’m in the physical realm, I can feel that,” you talk so quietly it’s like you’re speaking to yourself. “It’s not your dream. I’m here too.”

He checks his phone.

9:05.

Bucky opens up his messages, finding none from you tonight. His YouTube history similarly didn’t have the video he was watching earlier today.

Bucky clenches his fists and releases them, before taking a deep inhale. “Okay. We just had a strange fuckin’ flash forward into the future because of… I don’t know what. But we never left, and now we’re going home.”

“Yep.” You nod in confirmation, but the camera levitating behind you wobbles with uncertainty. “So– do we recreate what happened or…?”

“No, let's just leave,” Bucky debates, running a hand through his hair.

You take a step towards the stairs, holding onto the bannister as you make your way down.

Bucky holds up the flashlight of his phone as he follows, throwing another look behind him.

“Having a shared flashforward… could say it’s soulmate shit,” you give him a quick glance, but the grin on your face is unsure, and he knows you’re trying to shake it off.

“It’s a carbon monoxide shit.”

“You can be carbon mine-oxide.”

Bucky wordlessly shoves past you as he walks down the stairs, leaving you to follow with another stupid laugh.

The car ride back brings with it some air of normalcy, so does the elevator ride.

Bucky once again gives you a two finger wave as he gets down at his floor.

“Offer’s still there if you want me to walk you to your room,” you call. “I may be delirious, but I’m still chivalrous.”

“Go to sleep,” Bucky carps, shaking his head, banishing the slight lift in the corner of his mouth.

The faint light in the hallway makes him falter.

He sticks his head in anyway. “Hey.”

“Oh, hey,” Steve smiles from his bed, book in hand. “You’re back.”

Bucky glances around the room. “Did we talk earlier today?”

“Only when you texted me for my Netflix password.”

“Nothing after that?” Bucky hesitates from asking him outright.

“No. You okay?” Steve asks, eyebrows furrowing.

“Just had a weird dream,” Bucky dismisses, forcing his face to relax. “See you around.”

“Left you some apples if you’re hungry,” Steve calls, as Bucky shuts the door.

He crawls back into bed, eyeing the clock suspiciously. 10:30.

He closes his eyes, wills himself to sleep, knowing that this glitch in the matrix was only temporary and tomorrow, you’d be at his damn door, forcing him to go to Washington with you.

Bucky’s eyes fly open when a draft of wind blows past his cheek.

“You’re fucking shitting me,” he growls, taking in the stupid tower again.

“Well, fuck,” you exhale from beside him, in the same clothes from that evening. “I think we’re stuck in a timeloop.”

Of all the things to happen to him. Has he not suffered enough.

“Fine. Alright,” Bucky recalibrates, voice short, running a hand through his hair. “What now? How do we get out?”

“I don’t know, let me just consult with my vast experience in timeloops.”

He throws you a look so dry it would have crops withering. You don’t seem to care at all.

“If I had to guess from the movies I’ve seen, we either gotta solve a puzzle or one of us has to reach self-actualisation and turn into a good human,” you postulate, arms on your hips as you survey the room. “We both know it’s not me, so is there anything you want to share with the class?”

If your release was contingent on Bucky working through his issues, you’d be here for a century at least.

“We keep coming back here at midnight,” Bucky elects to focus on other things, tilting his head towards the clock. “Is it because we left at 9 instead of 12?”

“Maybe,” you consider it. “We can stick around, I guess.”

It wasn’t a bad place to start. You’d have to trial-and-error your way out of this one.

“We’ve got…” he pulls his sleeve back to look at his watch “...two hours and fifty five minutes.”

You shrug. “We can check out the rest of the tower to see if we missed anything.”

“Fine,” he relents slowly as if still weighing his options, only to come up with nothing better.

The next level is at least a few flights of stairs below and if you thought the room with the clock in it was barren, there was nothing here for you except spiders and dust bunnies.

“Maybe we have to clean it up,” you suggest, nose scrunching. “Maybe the tower’s super mad that everyone’s disrespecting it.”

“That's a stupid reason.”

You spin around, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “Take that back. We just said maybe it doesn't like being disrespected.”

Bucky grumbles a few choice words under his breath, none of which reach your ears.

There's nothing along the walls of the tower, nor on the ceilings. The intermediary floor and the ground floor come up empty as well.

By the time you've confirmed that you’ve exhausted all possible leads with nothing to show for it, Bucky’s memorised the layout of the place.

11:58.

“2 more minutes,” he tells you.

“All right,” you say, rubbing your palms together. “Experiment one. Let's go.”

Bucky keeps his eyes peeled.

11:59.

He doesn't even fucking blink, and neither do you as the seconds count down on his phone.

12:00.

He exhales, looking up.

A cold wind blows past his face.

When he hastily looks back at his phone, it reads 9pm once more.

“Damn it,” you curse softly.

Bucky’s growing anger resonates in a rumble in chest. “What kind of twisted shit is this?”

“It's fine,” you hold your hand up, breathing out. “I have a few more ideas.”

Bucky carelessly gestures for you to go on, and you point at the big clock.

“That thing stopped working at 9,” you hint. “We'll have to fix it. Get it working again and then we go back.”

“You know anything about fixing clocks?”

“I worked at a toy shop near a watchmaker once,” you offer. “That's gotta count for something.”

“What the hell, sure,” Bucky gives up, throwing his arms up.

He only had experience taking apart the old leather strapped wrist watch his parents got him for his 11th birthday, and Steve’s pocket watch that he inherited from his asshole dad. He’d dismantle it carefully, methodically piece by piece, learning the insides and out of each device, so that if and when they stopped running, he'd know exactly what was wrong just by holding it up to his ear.

That didn't necessarily transfer here, but it couldn't be all that different.

Turns out it's very different and you both had to resort to watching several videos before you even began to attempt to fix it.

He retreats the toolbox from the corner, grateful that at least you didn't have to waste a good half hour going looking for tools to fix a fuckin’ clock.

“There's no signs of life in the mechanism,” you say, reading from the phone. “So I guess we start with the most basic shit.”

He only lets out a noise in acknowledgement, before you both spend time dusting away at gears and checking for broken parts. When nothing seems bent or misaligned, you move onto the next step.

And that's when the fun actually starts.

“That’s not how you oil a gear.”

“Sure it fuckin’ is,” Bucky comments, careful making sure the grease reaches every nook and cranny.

“You’re doing it wrong.”

Bucky doesn't take his eyes off the machine, and instead raises his left hand up, clenching it into fist and releasing it, leaving the soft shifting of all the plates to prove his point.

You scoff. “What, just ‘cause you have a metal arm you're the world’s leading expert in oiling mechanics?”

“It means I’ve got some experience in taking care of them.”

“I’ve seen you put that thing in the dishwasher, don’t even try with me,” you warn.

Busted. He usually got away with lying flagrantly about his arm, but apparently you pay attention to him and the fact that the Wakandan tech only required a wipedown every once and a while.

“I do woodwork, I know how to oil things,” he switches seamlessly over to the next lie.

The tools rarely needed any maintenance and he really didn't have to do much with them yet, considering how high quality they were. But he has an idea of what he could be doing, and that's what counts.

You narrow your eyes at him. “How come you’ve never made anything for me?”

“I don’t like you.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Bucky continues squeezing oil into axles without sparing you a glance. “What do you want?”

“What can you make?”

“Boxes.”

“Make me a box then.”

“No.”

“Bitch.”

Bucky smiles to himself, turning the gears to see them move smoothly.

You dust off cobwebs from the pendulums to get it swinging again, you use your powers to stare at the crank until it rotates on its own to wind up, and to the best of your estimation, make sure the weights are raised to the right heights.

The whole affair takes nearly 3 hours and towards the end, the both of you are hurriedly rushing through the motions, placing aside the need to argue to just get the damn thing done in time. At some point, telekinesis keeps the pendulum swinging.

“Did you check everything?”

“Yes.”

“Everything.”

“Yes, Bucky.” you sigh. “All major pieces are working. The clock should move.”

Proof of your word, the clock starts ticking again. It goes from 9:00 to 9:05 without any hitches, and then continues on without interference.

“Hell yeah,” you cheer and Bucky heaves a sigh of relief.

“Come on,” he urges under his breath, checking his phone again.

2 minutes to go.

“I love the passage of time,” you state unnaturally loudly. “I've never been more grateful for the passage of time.”

“Don't jinx this.”

1 more minute.

“That's not jinxing, it's good lu-”

Bucky feels a cold breeze swipe across his cheek.

He inhales sharply.

“Fuck.” Your stomach drops to the ground.

In the blink of an eye, everything you'd managed to get done in the last 3 hours had gone right back to the way it had been. Dusty, unmoving and dull.

Bucky robotically checks the time on his phone.

9pm.

His fingers rub his temples. “What's the next plan?”

“We must have not done it right,” you reason quietly, taking a step towards it. “Something's wrong.”

“The thing was moving, I think we got it,” Bucky sighs irritatedly.

“Well, we gotta try again,” you turn to him sharply. “You don't have to be here but I'm gonna do it.”

Bucky raises both his eyebrows at you, and you stare back with equal determination.

“Fine,” he forgoes. “I'll look downstairs.”

It takes less time this time around. It gives you half an hour to check if it is moving again, and you watch the hands move from 9 to 9:05 to 9:20 with no problem.

Meanwhile, Bucky spends his time turning the intermediate room inside out in search for other clues.

When he finds nothing there, he trudges back to the clock, finding you fingers crossed but confident that you'd done it.

“This is it, baby,” you say, bouncing on the balls of your feet. “We're getting out of this.”

“Here's to hoping,” he says in a tone that lets you know he isn’t convinced, watching his timer countdown from 30 seconds.

“No hoping. There's nothing to do. We're leaving,” you declare. “I've never seen a clock work more beautifully in my life.”

Three.

Two.

One.

Bucky holds his breath.

And a wind blows past his face.

The machine resets to the way it was.

“All fuckin’ right,” Bucky mumbles, expiring a breath deeply.

“It's fine,” you say, forcing a smile. “I've got a few more ideas.”

Cleaning the floors doesn't work.

Reading up about the clock tower in detail and honouring its legacy in an earnest ceremony doesn't work.

Fixing it for a third time doesn't work either.

“I'm takin’ a nap,” he informs, back against the wall. “I'll deal with this shit again when I wake up.”

“How can you even think about sleeping right now?” you ask, using your powers to pull the damn clock out of the wall. It changes nothing.

“I've thought about sleeping through much worse,” he grumbles, eyes closed.

“I'm beginning to think you have an iron deficiency.”

“Literally a supersoldier.”

“Vitamin D deficiency,” you revise. “Can you step into the sun or do you just like, start hissing and burning?”

“We’ve never gonna find out, ‘cause we’re never making it out of tonight,” he hums, eyes closed.

You go still, clock hovering mid air.

“You don't think we're getting out?”

“I think we're fucked,” Bucky mumbles, yawning as he makes himself as comfortable as old wooden floors would allow him to be. “Y’told me yourself, we tried all the big plans. There's no puzzle. We're trapped.”

The clock lands on the ground with a heavy thud.

“Careful,” he warns, wondering how cozy the floor would be if he just slid down and laid there. “Wouldn't wanna break the fuckin’ thing that put us in this mess to begin with.”

“Fuck,” you breathe out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Bucky opens one eye to peer at you. “What?”

“What do you think, Bucky?” you fire back. “We’re stuck in a timeloop for eternity because we’ve tried the most obvious options and we’re still here.”

“Could be a lot cleaner, but this ain’t the worst place to get stuck for the rest of your life,” he tempts, arms crossed behind his head, feeling a dull strain in his neck.

“We’re gonna be stuck here forever,” you say, dawning horror in your inflection. “I’m gonna be stuck with you for the rest of eternity.”

“So much for chivalry,” he says wryly.

“We need a new plan,” you digress hectically from the other side of the room.

“Here's one. I get some sleep, order some pizza in the next loop or two and–”

“No.”

“Fine, Thai works too. Whatever. Then we-”

“You don’t get it,” you snap abruptly. “Jesus Christ, this is literally my worst fucking nightmare. Either help or leave.”

He pries both eyes open at the sudden shift in your tone. He’s used to you snapping at him for his bullshit, and the favour was usually reciprocated, but not like this.

Your back is turned to him, but he can tell you’re breathing heavily as you check out the new gap you've created in the wall where the clock was, before turning around and lifting the entire machine in the center of the room.

“Hey,” he calls, voice gruff, slowly pushing himself off the floor.

You throw him a look, continuing to move pieces of newspaper and tools and check under it.

He watches you curse under your breath, lifting things too high and dropping them down a little too hard without flinching even once.

“Look,” he tries again, a little louder.

You flip the machine upside down, fully intending on taking it apart and putting it back together as if it was going to make a big difference.

“Grab the wrench. Or don't, I don't give a–”

Bucky grips your shoulder with a call of your name. It’s enough to get you to pause from sheer surprise at how close he suddenly positioned himself, considering it was a well known fact that Bucky hated people in his space.

“Listen to me. We’re going to get out of here,” he instructs, voice much more muted than you were used to. “But you have to calm down.”

You take in a deep breath, before it leaves in a shaky exhale. Whatever you’ve got levitating gently drops onto the ground.

“You’re panicking. I would be too if I wasn’t dead inside,” he notes, hands still on your shoulder firmly. “Do whatever you need to to get it out of your system. It’ll be easier to focus after that. We'll be out of here soon enough.”

“You seem awfully sure.” Your mouth curls into a half smile, but it drops as quickly as it came up.

“We’ll figure something out.” His shoulders rise and fall. “Got all the time in the world.”

You swallow the thickness in your throat, giving him a small nod.

“‘M sorry,” he says, eyes intense, and you know he’s talking about the nonchalance he showed earlier. “I was bein’ a prick.”

“Honestly, you being a prick is, like, the most normal part about this.”

“...thanks.”

“It’s fine, I could use some normal.” You brush it off with a slight smile. “You’re right. We should get some food. I’m hungry.”

“Alright,” he says, eyeing your features for a second more. “But you’re buying. Payback for making me clean up every floor twice.”

“Prick.”

His conversation with Steve from earlier that night comes back to him, the same time you take another breath to shake off the antsiness.

Bucky lifts a eyebrow to look more natural. “You still sure it’s me who needs self-actualisation? ‘Cause it sure seems that you’ve got a whole lot to talk about.”

You half-scoff, half-laugh. “Is that your way of saying I’ve got issues?”

“Just using your words.”

You watch him for a second, like you’re thinking about saying something. He tilts his head at how contemplative you look, only for you to open your mouth and ask,

“Say, do you think emotional baggage is hot?” you wiggle your brows. “‘Cause if you do, I’ve got a whole lot of it.”

He groans out loud, neck craning as his head drops back.

“Also,” you pose a bit more curiously, “you gonna let go of me any time soon or are we about to slow dance?”

Bucky’s hands immediately drop from your shoulder, taking a step back. “Fuck off.”

“I could, but I’d just respawn here in three hours.”

He rolls his eyes, but he can’t help but feel a bit relieved that you looked a lot less in distress.

You'd spent two loops doing a deep dive into timeloops, coming up with more possibilities to try out.

Leaving the building at each hour did nothing.

You spent 1 loop eating dinner and reaching out to scientists you knew on how to break out. Those who replied either said they weren't real, told you stuff you'd already figured out, or blocked you.

You even spent half a loop painstakingly combing through footage from earlier in the night to figure out if you'd fucked with anything by mistake that you were yet to correct, not noticing it so far because it had been so minor or mundane.

“Oh shit, I just noticed something,” you gape, pointing at the screen

Bucky pulls the little monitor closer to his face. “What?”

“You’re looking at me so much in these,” you remark, voice relaxing immediately. “What's up with that?”

“Maybe because you’re the only one talking,” Bucky fires back, irritatedly putting the camera back down, “and it’s not like there’s anything else to look at here.”

“So defensive,” you comment. “Just say you think I’m cute and move on.”

“Shut up.”

“Shut me up yourself, coward.”

To be clear, Bucky didn't realise he was looking at you that much. And now that you’ve pointed it out, he can’t really argue because he is doing it a lot more than he realised he was, even unconsciously sometimes.

“How many more timeloops till you run out of these lines?” he questions instead.

“How many more timeloops till you stop being a handsome son of a bitch?”

The clock tower may be cold, but he feels too warm all of a sudden.

“I swear, if this doesn’t work, I’m throwing the clock out the window,” you say, powers forcing the hands to speed through every hour and second at 2x speed.

Bucky doesn’t even look up at you from over his phone. “You throw it, you’re fixing it again.”

You stop trying to spin the hands when one of them creaks.

A few loops in and the growing frustration from the both of you manifests into tension that is palpable.

You'd spent a loop or two outside the tower so you didn't drive yourself insane. Without fail, you'd end up right back up watching the clock every single time the world outside struck 12.

Bucky’s done his fair share of attempts. Jacket on, jacket off. Holding the camera, being the one who led into the room, the one who led out.

Mainstream movies, obscure movies, video essays, podcasts.

“I don’t fuckin’ get it. What are we missing?” you pour over the options again, frustrated. “We’ve done everything. We’ve done combinations of things.”

“There’s something we’re missing,” he says, staring at the moon through the face. “Some detail.”

It's not like you can physically keep track of every variable. Everything resets the second it strikes 12, no matter what you changed.

“I think–”

He sends you a glance.

“Maybe if we–” you try before you stop altogether.

Bucky just stays quiet because at this point you've exhausted every option you can think of, to no avail.

He knows you don't want to say it.

But it's time you start accepting that you're well and truly stuck.

“Should write Maya an email,” he tells you. “Tell her we quit.”

You give him a smile, knowing it would never even make its way to her.

Still, you pull out your phone and let Bucky peek over your shoulder as you start typing, helpfully suggesting curses as you went.

____

You absentmindedly tinker with the machine, able to take it apart, fix it and put it back together by heart and in no time now.

“What was the last mission you guys did?” you inquire, rotating a gear between your fingers.

“Something small,” Bucky replies, voice steady. “Think it was just a recon in Detroit.”

“Do you miss it?”

“No,” he says resolutely. “Everyone got tired of them a long time ago, but we stick around, just in case.”

You spare him a glance. “When was the last time you actually relaxed?”

Bucky considers it for a second. “Wakanda. Wasn't exactly a vacation though.”

“New question. When was the last time you went on vacation?”

He raises an eyebrow, head twisting to look at you.

You place the gear in its place before picking up the oil dropper. “Don’t answer if you don’t wanna.”

He turns his head back to the ceiling, and all the spider webs lining it.

“Couple of years before I got drafted, my family took a day trip to Convey Island.” he reveals, voice low. “We were supposed to hit as many rides as we could but my sister was aboslutely fuckin’ taken by this damn steam engine they had running. Everyoe got sick of it after the second time so I stuck around with her. Must’a ridden that thing 5 times before she finally let up.”

You have half a smile on your face. “Did you like it?”

He can't really remember. He can't even remember if the rest of his family was actually there, or whether it was just him and Steve and Becca, or it was just him and Becca.

“I liked that she liked it,” he decides.

You nod, wiping a gear before putting it back, snickering lightly. “Was the last vacation you took really in the 1930s?”

He exhales a laugh. “Steve and I went to the Canyon once. It was near a mission location. He told me I'd been dyin’ to go there as a kid. I don't remember that, but he fuckin’ dragged me there by the collar. Not sure if that really counts– we were both bleeding pretty heavy for it to be a real holiday.”

“Steve would say it counts.”

“Steven’s never taken a vacation in his life.” Bucky snorts. “I don't think he physically knows how to relax.”

“I don't think I've ever seen that man sit still for more than a few minutes.”

“Fuckin' rich coming from you. How many jobs have you had? A million?”

You exhale a laugh. “Something like that.”

You push the pendulum with your finger, watching it swing back and forth.

“Where’d you stick the longest?” Bucky asks, hands supporting his head as he lies on the ground.

You take a second to think, picking up a gear you’d already cleaned, wiping it down again.

“When I just got out of Leviathan, I used to wait tables for this elderly lady who ran a bakery. Mrs. Mullens,” you say finally. “She was kinder than anyone else I'd met till then; gave me leftovers that didn’t get sold that day, and enough money to get on my feet. I must've been there, what, a year? Year and a half? I think that’s the longest I’ve stayed.”

“Why’d you quit?” He does his best to not sound too intrusive.

“One evening she slipped keys into my pocket and told me I could stay in the room above the cafe if I wanted. Realised I’d been there too long, so I left the state the next morning.”

Bucky’s eye twitches as he turns to look at you. “She gave you a place to stay and you skipped town?”

“Yeah.” You half-shrug. “Staying in a place too long feels– suffocating. I don’t know. Just knew it was time to leave.”

Bucky looks at you strangely, mind inadvertently trying to piece together a bunch of information.

Working on a hunch, he tests, “You got family out there somewhere?”

“I was literally created in a lab,” you deadpan. “I don’t have a family. Unless you count test tubes.”

“It doesn't have to be mean literally.” He arches an eyebrow. “What about Nat?”

“Nat’s a friend.” you disclose, holding a cog up to check for any stains, “The Avengers aren’t my family the same way they are for you. They’re great, but it’s just another job.”

Oh.

“Right,” he says, settling back into his position, feeling a frown on his face.

“I haven’t really found what you’re asking me about,” you add, and he knows you're trying to be kind.

He isn't sure what he thought the team was to you. He isn't sure what he feels about the new information either.

“What’s it feel like?”

“What?” he asks distractedly.

“Having people like that,” you clarify. “Maybe if I know what it feels like I’ll know when it happens.”

You’ve all but asked the most emotionally constipated man on earth what family feels like to him.

So reasonaly, Bucky blanks.

Literally every single interaction with the dead and the living exits his mind.

And so he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind,

“Silent blenders.”

And then he cringes.

“Is that the name of a movie or…” you trail off.

“No. They got me blenders that don’t make a sound. It was a nice gift,” he mumbles.

You wait for him to provide even a little more context. He instead shifts uncomfortably.

“Okay,” you allow, looking back down. “Silent blenders. Got it.”

Bucky thinks about it for a second more, and his head starts throbbing.

Instead, he dodges. “Guess you’re not gonna stick around for too long then, huh?”

“Well, yeah,” you answer, like it was the easiest thing in the world. “I was always going to just bounce after this was done. I thought you knew that.”

“Right,” he repeats. “Where you headed next?”

“Who knows?” you mull over. “I could go anywhere. You got any reccs?”

He doesn’t really have an answer for you. Bucky can’t imagine packing up and leaving again. Living life never knowing when he can finally take a seat. He’s spent so long wrestling with the turbulence of having multiple identities that he clings to what little semblance of stability he can find.

But a tiny voice in the recess of his mind whispers to him that maybe the reason he's stayed at the same place for so long is the same reason you can’t.

He has a half formed hypothesis. And then soon comes to the conclusion that he really has no business deriving theories about you like that… but he’d be lying if he said he didnt store it in his head for later.

He also doesn't know why there's a strange churning in his stomach, a deeply uncomfortable feeling that he hasn't really felt in years. It makes him want to get up and leave.

“Y’know, just ‘cause I’m gonna leave eventually doesn’t mean we’re not friends.” You snap him out of his first great attempt to understand human emotions other than annoyance.

He hums. “I wouldn't call us that.”

“You’re right, we’re star crossed lovers.”

“I feel bad for the next person who has to deal with you.”

You laugh, swinging the pendulum into motion and wiping your hands down.

You’d taken turns sleeping in two of the time loops, keeping watch while the other rested for a while.

Only when you're asleep does Bucky fully comprehend how quiet it is in there.

The clouds cover the moon. The floorboards don't make much noise even as he walks around.

He's lost track of how many 9pms it's been.

He doesn't know why it’s lingering in his mind like this. Probably because he had only thought of her a couple of hours ago.

He knows you suggested it as a joke but he can't help but wonder.

What if it was actually him keeping the both of you here?

He really thought he'd made amends. He'd been living as peacefully as he was able to. And yeah, he's a dick, but he wasn't outright evil.

Or so he thought.

Maybe he hadn’t repented as hard as he’d needed to.

“Becks,” he calls quietly. “If you can hear me– I'm sorry.”

No one responds. You don't stir.

He forces himself to exhale and continue, “I know you'd hate what I turned into, but I'm tryin’ here. I promise.”

He wishes a damn piece of paper would give him a sign on what to do, or at least tell him there was no coming back. That he should probably resign himself to his fate.

“You should've had someone who coulda shielded you. Given you a chance to be a kid.” He swallows down the stone in his throat. “I know you're mad, Peanut. I'm really fuckin’ sorry. You deserved a whole lot better.”

And then he waits, and waits some more, ears straining for anything– a giggle, a scrape. He doesn't know what he expected, but he gets nothing.

Only a draft blows through the window.

A shiver runs through you, and you curl into yourself, but thankfully you still don't wake. Bucky has no idea how he’d explain this to you anyway.

Still, he quietly makes his way towards you, shrugging off his jacket and draping it across you carefully, watching as you relax again.

He blows out an exhale, watching the minutes tick by.

“Do you think we’re gonna get old here or do we reset every time the loop resets?” you ask aloud.

“Our clothes kept regenerating with us, so I guess we keep resetting too.”

You hum. “Damn, we can’t even grow old together.”

Bucky adds nothing, only turning to you with a deadpan expression.

“What?” you ask.

“What?” he counters. “No old person jokes this time?”

“There’s no fun if you're expecting it,” you sigh.

“Incredible,” he replies, monotonous.

There’s silence. He hears wind rustle through the room.

You sit up, and he can feel your eyes boring into him.

“What?” he asks again.

“Does it upset you?” you ask somberly. “When I make those jokes?”

“No,” he replies. “They’re fine.”

“And when I keep using pickup lines on you– does that make you uncomfortable?” you continue, however, much to his surprise.

He turns to you with his eyebrows lowered. “Since when does that matter?”

“It matters,” you say quietly. “I knew it annoyed you, I didn’t know they made you uncomfortable.”

He stares at you for a long while, before settling on, “They don’t.”

“Sure?”

“I don’t care.” He looks ahead. “I’ll tell you if they do.”

“Okay,” you relent. “If you say so.”

He shakes his head, feeling a strange sort of feeling settle in his chest. He can’t say he hates it, but he would rather not deal with it.

“Bein’ in here’s making you weird.”

You narrow your eyes. “The fuck does that mean?”

“You know what it means,” he asserts.

“I’m being totally normal, you’ve just refused to hang out with me so you wouldn’t know what that is.”

“I see you every week.”

“For video shoots.”

“We hang out otherwise,” he scoffs, suddenly feeling very offended. “We literally went to the store the other day.”

“To buy batteries,” you emphasize. “For the video shoots.”

“We’ve gone to the park,” he exclaims, sitting up. “And we eat lunch together sometimes. And we watched that stupid fuckin’ movie in theatres at midnight twice because you lied the second time and told me it was another one – what was it called? Metropolis?”

“Megalopolis,” you say, amused at his outburst.

“That. Garbage fuckshit. And we’ve taken the cat–”

“Alpine.”

“I know her name,” he hisses. “To the vet. And that’s all in the last month.”

“Jeez, you keep a journal every time we hang out? What are you, obsessed with me?” you ask, trying to bite back a shit-eating grin.

“Point is,” he grits. “We hang out.”

Fuck. Turns out, maybe Steve was right.

“Tomato, tomahto,” you dismiss. “You’re so obsessed with details. You could’ve just said you’re in love with me and moved on instead of bringing out the whole Excel sheet of every minute we spent together.”

“I hate you,” he groans, dropping back down.

You laugh. It makes the corner of his mouth curl up, just a little.

“What’s the time?” he asks, blowing out an exhale from his nose.

“Like 11:30?,” you sigh.

“That’s all?” He wants to groan again.

“Does it matter? We’re stuck here forever. We can get more takeout in the next loop.”

“You’re paying.”

“I paid last time, asshole.”

He clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “Tomato, tomahto.”

“Touché.”

You spin a gear in the air, waiting for the hour to pass.

It suddenly hits him. Something that you'd shown across episodes of witchcraft and haunted hospitals.

Something you showed literally three minutes ago.

If this worked, he’d probably hug you and your stupid, chaos incarnate self.

“Come on, let’s get this clock fixed,” he grumbles, getting back up on his feet.

“What?”

“I think you’re right,” he says, sticking his arm out to help you up.

“Huh?” you blink at him. “I know the footage is gonna get erased again, but I need you to say that into the camera once for me. And state that you’re of sound mind and body while you’re at it.”

He sends you a look. “Come on.”

“I fixed it already, Bucky.”

“What’s the time?” He ignores you.

“Nearly 12,” you tell him, checking your phone.

“Need you to be precise.”

“Why?”

“Humour me,” he says calmly. “Details are for losers, remember?”

“11:57 and 32 seconds.”

He manually winds the big arm up, the short hand still following. Until the seconds ticker matches the time you were calling out, down to the last second.

“What are you doing?” you enquire curiously, peeking over his shoulder.

“Making it match real time,” he tells you. “Properly.”

He checkes gears and pushes pendulums and everything works like it’s brand new. You’d gotten real good at this.

“11:59 and 43 seconds,” you call.

Bucky closes his eyes, forcing his breath to remain steady. It’s the first time that evening he’s had more than a sliver of hope.

“57 seconds,” you say quietly, voice tired.

And then there's silence.

He doesn't have the energy to open his eyes and find the machinery back to scraps.

But eventually he does. And when he opens it again, you’re still standing there, near the machine. Not the entrance of the room.

The clock reads 12:02.

He turns to you, calmly saying, “Let’s get out of here.”

The drive back home is silent, apprehensive with tension tight as a stretched rubber band. Like if you breathed too hard, you'd find yourself back in the dark room.

You step in the elevator together, pressing the buttons for your floor and his.

He doesn’t know whether it’s the fear or the fact that you've now spent several hours together when time didn’t make sense, but the ride up is slower than usual.

Bucky stands with his back pressed to the wall of the elevator, eyes closed, hands stuffed in his pockets.

“It never occured to me,” your voice is quiet. “It’s the one thing I didn’t think of because I was so focused on getting out.”

“Didn't think of it either.” Bucky’s shoulders shrug, eyes closed. “Not your fault.”

“Kinda is.”

“I would've realised earlier if I paid attention,” he counters.

You stare at him.

“Are you done or should I keep going?”

You blow out an exhale. “This game sucks.”

“Don't play this shit with me. It's the one thing I'm good at.”

The elevator dings, creeping open on his floor.

He stays right where, back pressed against the wall, unmoving.

“It's your floor,” you inform.

“I know.”

The door waits a few seconds before it closes.

It finally reaches your floor, opening with a bright ding.

He watches you step out, casting an unsure look towards him.

You gesture awkwardly, “Do you need anything?”

“Nah,” he says, eyes still closed.

“What are– oh,” you stop all of a sudden. “Is this your way of walking me to my door?”

Bucky’s face doesn’t betray any expression. “See you later.”

You fight a smile, raising two fingers to give him a wave.

He gives you a small nod as the door closes on him, reaching forward to press the button to his floor again.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing!

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#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #unsolved fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you

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mjspenumbra · 2 days ago

Text

I was born in the early '50s, and knew kids who got polio and were crippled for life, knew families who lost children to it. My mother was hardly a "Christian sort" who didn’t believe in doctors, but she was afraid of them because in the minds of many in her generation, you only saw doctors when they were going to send you to the hospital to die. My dad, fortunately, was far better educated and more open minded, and made very sure we kids got all our shots when they became available. We were Catholics, and our churches made arrangements for the congregation to get the flu shots and polio vaccines after Sunday Masses. We didn’t question it, it was what you did to keep yourself and your community safe. Sure, there were people who scoffed at it, and they were inevitably the families whose members got sick and suffered lifelong disabilities or even death because of it. These days, we have reasons to question the motives of for profit healthcare systems and big pharmaceutical companies who want to make lots of money, but every single doctor, nurse, and workers in clinics that I’ve spoken to understand that the scientists developing the vaccines aren’t the ones in it for the bucks. When they lose patients who were made afraid by misinformation, it kills a part of their souls, because they got into their profession to save lives and make them better.

No, no vaccine can prevent disease 100% effectively, but they can reduce the odds hugely and make them far less damaging. And if you do get sick, don’t try to tough it out if you know there are medications that can be prescribed to help you get well more quickly and reduce the impact being sick will have on you. I’ve had COVID twice. The first time it appeared literally on the first day of lockdown, when there were no vaccines, no effective treatments, and no real understanding of all the symptoms. I already had damaged bronchial tubes from a bout of pneumonia I’d had in my late 20s that went untreated for lack of medical insurance; that round of Covid damaged them further. In late 2023, despite having had every shot and booster I could get, I came down with Covid again. It was much less severe, partly because my doctor was able to get me on paxlovid as soon as I tested positive, but it still did more damage, and I now have to use an inhaler when I suffer bouts of shortness of breath.

But I’m still alive, and while I could wish I was healthier, I’m far from young anymore, and I’m grateful there were things my doctor could do for me because of dedicated scientists who came up with tests, treatments, and vaccinations. They want to help, despite what some people might say to the contrary. Please, let them help. Help others by helping yourself stay healthy. We're all in this together.

#Vaccination

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milkoomi · 2 days ago

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⋆˚࿔ a new canvas means a new you 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

a mini series on the art of becoming a better you

inspired by this podcast i watched recently !!

chapter one — THE ART OF LETTING GO

letting go is one of the strongest and bravest things we can do for ourselves. whether it be letting go of toxic relationships, bad habits, or simply just things that no longer serve you, being able to do something like that will help us grow stronger and create a better life for ourselves. i’m sure there’s so many things, or even people, that have been weighing you down or hindering your own progress, so take that first step and let. them. go.

ᥫ᭡. things/people to let go of

bad friends/partners

toxic relationships, whether romantic or platonic, are extremely hard to free yourself from, but you have to put yourself first. you are always your number one priority. if you believe in “treat others how you want to be treated”, then you should believe in making sure others are treating you the way you want to be treated. you can always give and give to the people in your life, but relationships are a two-way street, babe. you can’t give your all when the person or people you’re giving too isn’t giving anything in return! don’t continue to expend any more of your energy on those who won’t even consider trying to give you even an ounce of energy back. it’s not worth it.

when you’re in a toxic relationship, you start to realize how poorly you’re being treated, but because you want to try and fix the relationship or mend it somehow, you stay. and staying is one of the worst things you can do for yourself. while you try and try to fix something that you aren’t even responsible for fixing, you just keep hurting yourself over and over; making yourself even more miserable in the relationship. and you don’t deserve that! you don’t deserve to be treated poorly time and time again, you never deserved that kind of treatment to begin with!

let them go. leave. free yourself from the constant heartbreak, betrayal, and pain. you’ll lose yourself if you stay, and i know that you’re trying to find a better version of yourself, so if you stay you’ll never find that person. you’ll keep getting lost and you’ll keep getting further and further away from your own happiness that you do deserve.

“but how do i leave?”

if we’re talking toxic friends: distance yourself. put distance between you and them until you’re too far away for them to reach. keep conversations short, keep responses to a minimum until you eventually have gone so far that they can’t find you anymore.

or simply: cut them off, immediately. block them on everything. instagram, twitter, tiktok— all social media. block their number. block them out of your life for good. they don’t deserve to see you, to hear from you, to have the chance to try and speak to you; they do not deserve you.

if we’re talking romantic relationships: send them a message. whether it’s a letter you send to their house or even through a text, send them a message. if you do it through text, do not feel any remorse for doing so. there’s this whole idea of “if you break up with them over text, you’re a coward”, and in most cases i can see that to be true, but if you’re in a relationship where your partner does not value you, respect you, or even love you the way you’re meant to be loved then they don’t even deserve the courtesy of an in-person break up.

sometimes we’re put in situations where even sending a message may seem impossible because our partner has taken too much control over us. when this kind of situation happens, we have to put our foot down. if you feel like you have no control, even over yourself, you need to leave. you have to do whatever it takes to leave because you should never, and i mean never, be put in any kind of situation or relationship where you feel like you have no control over yourself. you should never stay in a relationship that makes you feel trapped or that makes you feel scared to leave. you are allowed to leave no matter what anyone says.

additional note: if you are ever put in a situation where you feel unsafe in a relationship, please reach out for help. whether it be your family, a friend, or even an authoritative figure, please reach out for help. you do not deserve to ever feel unsafe by someone who’s supposed to love you.

negative self-talk

most times we are our own worst enemy. there have been so many times where i’ve put myself down with extremely hurtful words— words i would never say to someone i loved. if i wouldn’t say those awful things to someone i cared about, why should i say them to myself? we need to let go of talking down on ourselves. the more we put ourselves down with hurtful words, the more we let our insecurities take over and eventually consume us.

we have to be kind to ourselves. at the end of each day, we only ever have ourselves. you need to always have your own back! talk to yourself like you would to someone you love! talk to yourself with love.

negative self-talk gives more energy to those who try to hurt us. the more energy we put into hurting ourselves, even more energy will put into those who feel like they have power over us. do you really want someone who puts you down feel like they have so much more power over you? no, right? then, please, use that energy to bring more confidence and power into yourself. the only person who should have power over you, is you. use your own power to bring yourself up, not bring yourself down.

“but it seems too hard, where do i start?”

applaud yourself for making achievements no matter how big or small! did you make your bed today? then congratulate yourself! did you get a promotion or raise at your job? then tell yourself how proud you are! it doesn’t matter what the achievement is, if you accomplished it then you deserve more than a pat on the back from yourself. always take pride in your work, always treat small wins as the biggest win of the day, always tell yourself that you are so proud of who you are becoming and what you’ve accomplished.

compliment your appearance, makeup, or outfit! maybe your skin’s been improving, so you should look in the mirror and say “hey, you have really beautiful skin!” or maybe you snapped a pic of the makeup look you just did, then you should say “wow, i’m really talented at doing my makeup! it turned out great!” or maybe you put together an outfit for your day, then you should say, “i made a really great choice in my clothes today! this looks so nice!”

treat yourself with kindness, care, respect, and love. you need to uplift yourself to feel like your best self! literally, just talk to yourself. look in the mirror and have a sweet conversation with yourself and just admire who you see in the reflection.

sometimes we have to fake it til we make it, and honestly? it works! even if you start out and you feel like you’re lying to yourself, still do it. do it until it finally starts to feel real and then keep doing it from that point forward.

feeling embarrassed

we live in a day and age where everything that anyone does is labeled as “cringe”, and it’s exhausting. now, people feel like they can’t be who they are without feeling like they’re being “cringe” or without feeling embarrassed for being themselves or taking part in things they enjoy.

you should never feel embarrassed for being who you want to be or for enjoying things that genuinely make you happy. let go of feeling embarrassed! you are allowed to have fun and be happy being yourself. don’t ever let anyone make you feel like you can’t.

i always like to think, “well, if someone thinks i’m ‘cringe’ then they must not know how to have fun with their own life!” because that’s more than likely the truth! people will feel threatened by those who exude confidence in what they enjoy and who they are and those people will do anything to project their own insecurities onto others. it’s never anything you’re doing that’s wrong. what’s wrong is the fact that some people just can’t stand seeing others thrive. let yourself be someone that those haters can’t stand to see thrive.

i’ve said this before, and i’ll say it again, be unapologetically yourself.

ᥫ᭡. how to let go

letting go just means detaching yourself from the things/people that have held you down. it means to simply stop caring. i know i said “simply”, but of course it isn’t all that simple. this is something you have to work towards!

emotional detachment.

when you bring yourself the inability to attach your emotions to something or someone, you practice emotional detachment.

now, in some cases, emotional detachment may not be a good thing, but when you’re practicing or in the process of letting go it’s best to emotionally detach yourself from that thing or person.

acknowledge and reflect on your emotions! what do these things or people that you want to let go of make you feel? sadness? anger? frustration? grab a journal and write down all that you’re feeling. acknowledging and being aware that there are things/people who are making you feel a negative emotion is a great first step to emotional detachment. you’re being made aware of your feelings, thoughts, and emotions that are a result of the things/people you want to let go of— and that’s a good thing! it allows you to see how you’re still attached and helps you think “well, i don’t want to feel this way anymore” and will begin the next thought process of how you will start letting go of those particular feelings.

set boundaries! now that you’re aware of how these things/people make you feel, you can start setting boundaries for yourself. with people, like i mentioned earlier, you can create distance or even block them. of course, you can always try to set a boundary with that person, but remember: if they cross your boundary and continue to cross it, let them go. you put these boundaries in place and whoever it is that you are setting boundaries with needs to respect them just as they would want you to respect any of theirs. when it comes to setting personal boundaries for things like the ones i mentioned above, it’s the same idea of cutting off what makes you act on that negative self-talk or gives you that feeling of embarrassment. blocking hateful people on social media, unfollowing accounts that don’t make you feel good about yourself, and/or taking a break from social media and making more time for yourself in the real world.

focus on self care & yourself! after you’ve set some boundaries, whether it was with yourself or with others, start putting in more time focused on you. focus on things and people that genuinely make you happy, consume content that makes you feel good whether in general or makes you feel good about yourself, and practice self care! as i said in the beginning, you are always your number one priority. your happiness, your peace, and you overall should always come first in your own life.

ᥫ᭡. final notes

this is “the art of letting go” and art is always something you have to practice so that you get better at it! take your time and be patient with yourself. letting go isn’t an uphill battle, there’s going to a lot of ups and downs and feelings of uncertainty or even anxiety and fear, but i know you can do it! i know there isn’t a single thing that you can’t accomplish for yourself! you are capable of change and you are more than capable of becoming a a better version of yourself for yourself.

with lots of love, juno 🌷

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cosmowgyral · 3 days ago

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Falling into Sin with the Black Tiger ~ Gilbert's 4th Birthday

▪︎ Chapter 2

This is a fan translation so please don't expect it to be 100% accurate. Creative liberties have been taken. All content belongs to Cybird. Reblogs are appreciated. Hope you enjoy!

Gilbert: Ahaha, I was found right away.

The moment I heard a voice from behind me, I was embraced by a cold body.

When I turned around and looked up, there was not a trace of remorse on Gilbert’s face.

Emma: Is work going well for you?

Gilbert: Today my work is to look after you.

Gilbert: But, taking others’ opinions on account while deciding on a present, that’s not good, little rabbit.

(You’ve been watching me all this time.)

I felt both embarrassed and giddy, and my cheeks relaxed.

Emma: But, I don’t know much about gemstones.

Emma: I want to choose something good as it’s a gift for you, Gil. But I don’t know what is good or bad.

Gilbert: Then I’ll teach you.

Emma: That would take the fun out of it.

Gilbert: That’s not true. Rather, you can now go on a date with me, so it’s more fun, right?

(Surely, that’s a possible way to think about it?)

My face becomes sloppier as Gilbert asks me to “enjoy our date”.

(It might be better to wait and see his reaction while choosing.)

Emma: If that’s the case, may I ask you a favour?

Gilbert: Heehee, with pleasure. I’m glad.

Gilbert: I was worried you might try to rely on someone other than me again.

(He really is a troublesome villain.)

I walk through the town, holding Gilbert’s cold hand tightly.

Emma: Which gemstone is your favourite, Gil?

Gilbert: I’ve never considered it.

Emma: Obsidian or something….

Gilbert: Heehee, isn’t that a bit too simple?

Emma: You always give them to me.

Gilbert: I just want to dye you in my colours. It’s not about likes or dislikes or anything like that.

I showed him one gem after another, closely watching his reaction, but there was no change in his refreshing smile.

Gilbert: Which gemstone is your favourite?

Emma: …..When you ask me that, I don’t know what to say.

Gilbert: Right?

(All gemstones are beautiful and sparkly…but my favourite….)

What caught my eye was a rose-red gemstone with a matching blue stone.

(…Maybe I just like Gilbert rather than the gemstones.)

Gilbert: Hey, aren’t you tired from walking? Let’s take a break.

Emma: Uh…that’s right! Let’s do that.

I was so embarrassed that my voice came out higher than usual.

Gilbert gave out a small snort and went to a nearby food stall.

He ordered food so naturally that it was hard to believe he was part of the royal family. Then he promptly received the dishes.

Gilbert: Here you go.

Emma: Thank you. This is?

Gilbert: Dampfnudel…a kind of steamed bread that sells well this time of the year.

Gilbert: There are a variety of sauces but I ordered two kinds, a sweet one and a weird one.

(This is the first time I'm seeing this. It’s a standard thing in Obsidian.)

We sat down next to each other on a nearby bench and I immediately took a bite of the bread smothered in the sweet sauce.

Emma: Mmmm, it’s fluffy, chewy, and delicious!

Gilbert: What about the weird one?

I opened my mouth obediently to take a bite of the bread offered to me by Gilbert, and the sweet and spicy taste balanced well on my tongue.

Emma: It’s so spicy that it warms up my cold body right away.

Gilbert: Heehee, your thoughts are so cute and honest, aren’t they?

Emma: I’d like to hear your thoughts as well, Gil.

To return the favour, when I bring the steamed bun to Gilbert’s mouth, he bites it off all at once, along with my fingers.

(I..thought I was done for….I don’t feel the cold anymore, it’s actually getting hotter.)

Gilbert: They’re delicious, but….I’ve become tamed by your sweets, you know.

Gilbert: Eating street food makes me miss it.

Emma: That’s an honour.

Gilbert: Will you bake me a cake for my birthday again?

Emma: Of course. Not just cake, but lots of other foods too. Do you have any requests?

Gilbert: You’re always like that.

Emma: For your birthday, I want to pack in as many as your ‘number one’ things as possible.

Gilbert: Hmm…..

Gilbert: I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and I really think that right now is the happiest I’ve been in my life.

Gilbert leans in and rests his head on my shoulder.

Gilbert: It’s not that I’m being shy or considerate.

Gilbert: But what you want, you want me to be more selfish than this, right?

Emma: That’s right.

Gilbert: To bother me like this…

Emma: I’m sorry. But I won’t say ‘you don’t have to think about it’.

(Gilbert always thinks about his country and other people, but never about himself.)

(That’s why, when asked ‘what do you want?’, I knew you couldn’t answer.)

(People who don’t know how to live selfishly, are confused, worried, and at a loss for words.)

(I want you to be very selfish.)

Emma: I’ll wait as long as it takes for an answer.

Gilbert: Little rabbit, you have a mean look on your face.

Emma: That’s because I’m the fiancée of a great villain.

Gilbert laughed and quietly closed his eyes.

Spending casual time listening to the peaceful hustle and bustle of the crowd was blissful, and yet I felt a little pain.

*scene shifts to the dining room in the palace*

Emma: Lies….

[Chapter 1] [Masterlist] [Chapter 3]

#ikemen prince #ikepri translations #ikepri gilbert #gilbert von obsidian #gilbert von obsidian translations #ikemen prince gilbert #ikemen prince translations #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #ikemen series #d: enchanthings

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sinnabarmoth · 2 days ago

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Tribute for the Dragon (13/18)

Pairing: Dragon|Sylus x Fem|Reader

Summary: Not all is perfect after becoming mates. There is a war going on and Sylus makes a decision to save his mate more heartache.

Content Warnings: Adult language. Rough blow jobs. Inappropriate use of tail.

Length: 6k

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12)

Read on AO3

You could hardly believe what happened. You and Sylus were mates now. Any time you thought about it your heart would start racing. The moment that Sylus had said that he loved you it felt like the gloom that had been weighing down your heart since the autumn festival lifted. He loved you! He actually loved you!

That day out in the meadow where he laid you down in a bed of those red wildflowers and made you his mate, you knew you’d never forget it. He had treated you so gently. There were always times before when you had sex that things were soft and slow but they always went back to the rough and the fast. This time though, you knew for a fact that the only way to describe it was love.

When you returned to the mountain though things got intense again. Sylus had explained on the way back to the mountain that the initial period after becoming mates that their bodies would be hungry for each other. So she had better be prepared for them to not do a lot outside of the bedroom for the next week. And he had been right.

Any time you saw Sylus or thought about him your body felt like it was overheating. He did his fair share of grabbing you and dragging you back into bed but you had to admit that the real culprit was you most days. You were the one grabbing him from whatever he was doing and dragging the both of you to the closest flat surface.

You knew Sylus had said that this craving for each other would fade after about a week but considering how fired up you got any time you so much as thought of him you were starting to doubt it. This day was no exception.

You had been sitting in the kitchen area by the fire sketching something when Sylus wandered in to grab something to eat. He must not have noticed you by the fire because he didn’t say anything. The moment you saw him though heat blossomed throughout your body.

You set your sketchbook aside and tried to creep up behind him. You thought you were succeeding in sneaking up on him until his tail lashed out and grabbed you around the waist, halting you. “Did you think I didn’t see you?” he said.

“You didn’t say anything.” you pouted.

“Because lately any time I give you a second of attention you are intent on wringing me dry. Even with my stamina your appetite has gotten exhausting.” he looked you up and down. “The energy of the mating bond should have worn off by now. I wonder if it is taking longer to wear off on you because you’re fully human.”

“So you’re saying you don’t like how much I’ve been wanting you?” your hands caressed his tail. “Wasn’t it you that had said if I ever wanted a partner for such activities that you would always be there to help?”

“I did. But I think if we keep going at the rate at which you want then you’re going to end up needing extended bedrest, little bird.”

“Bedrest you say?”

“Yes, as in you lying in bed not having sex with me because your libido led to the abuse of your cunt. I’d rather have my mate not be in such pain.” he released you.

You got closer, staring up into his eyes. Eyes that begged and pleaded with him to relieve this ache that clawed at you between your legs. “You know, it doesn’t always have to be my cunt you put your cock in.” you slid down to your knees, “I get hungry too, master.”

His nostrils flared. He knew that you knew one of the quickest ways to get him to snap was to call him master. “My little bird, be careful what you ask for.”

“Yes, master.” you said again. Your eyes were locked on the bulge that strained against the leather of his pants. You leaned forward to kiss it.

“I won’t be gentle with you.” he warned.

“I don’t want you to be.” the wetness between your legs was already starting to drip down your thighs. You continued to kiss and nuzzle your face against his growing erection. “Please, master.”

“Fucking hells.” he cursed. “Remember you asked for this.”

A jolt of excitement shot up your spine, making you straighten up. That dark possessiveness had taken over his gaze. “Take it out.” he ordered.

You quickly went to obey, tying the laces of his pants and pulling them down enough to free his cock. It was so hard and it throbbed in front of your face, a small bead of precum leaking from the tip. Your mouth watered having it so close.

“Arms behind your back.” he said.

You happily obliged. He took his cock in hand but when your mouth opened to take it in he grabbed you by the jaw and forced it closed. “Not yet. You’ll get it soon enough, but first I need to vulgarize you a bit. If you want to act like a wanton whore, constantly begging for my cock, then I’m going to treat you like one. Nod if you understand.”

You nodded. He smirked at you. “You truly are perfect,” Sylus said, rubbing his cock over your closed mouth so that drops of his precum smeared across your lips. He kept going tracing the tip of his hot dick over your cheeks. “And I want you to remember that I love you because in a minute I’m going to fuck this sinful little mouth of yours so hard you won’t be able to make a sound.”

Oh gods…your legs were shaking as you pressed your thighs closer together.

He pulled his cock away slightly. “Say it.” he said.

“I love you.” you said, tasting the salty yet sweetness of his cum on your lips. “I love you so much, master.”

“Good girl. I love you too.” he kept one hand in your hair as he pushed his cock inside your mouth. He didn’t even give you a chance to swallow it down slowly. He shoved it inside past your teeth and hit the back of your throat. Your eyes watered and you gagged at the sudden sensation.

He pulled you off his cock as you took in a ragged breath. “You had better remember how to relax your throat now or else this isn’t going to be much fun for you.”

He shoved himself back in but you were a little better prepared this time and remembered to breathe through your nose and relax your throat. For a minute he just kept you there, his cock resting down your throat, mouth stretched wide to accommodate him, your eyes watering and chest heaving as you tried to keep breathing. You could feel him twitching in your mouth.

He stared down at you, his free hand caressing your cheek. “Should have had you do this before but you live and you learn. I think you can manage from this position though.” he said. “Take off your clothes.”

It took a little maneuvering but you were able to get your skirt off but you didn’t know how you were supposed to get the shirt off without pulling it off over your head. He noticed you fumbling and hooked a claw in at the front of your shirt and dragged it down, slicing it open at the front. You shrugged it off, now completely bare before him.

“That’s much better. Arms back behind you.”

You held your arms behind your back and pushed your chest out. The cool air settled over your skin, hardening your nipples and chilling the wetness skimming down your thighs.

He reaffirmed the grip on the back of your head and began moving your head back and forth along his cock. He wasn’t even thrusting into your mouth. He was treating your mouth like it was his own hand, forcefully bobbing it. Slow at first then faster and faster.

Your core spasmed and clenched around nothing. You wanted to shove a hand between your legs but he had said to keep your arms behind your back and so they remained. But fuck! You really wanted to touch yourself.

He noticed you squirming and you felt his tail come around and slither across your shoulders. The contact had you moaning around his cock. It traveled down your side and up your abdomen, the cool scales scraping against your naked breasts. Back down it went, tracing over your thighs and ass. Your legs parted, feeling the blunt end of his tail trace across your slit. It parted your folds and rested against your swollen neglected clit. Just a bit of pressure to relieve the deep ache in you.

“Don’t get greedy now.” Sylus said. “Remember who is in charge here.”

You moaned a response. His tail was unmoving between your legs but the pressure let you grind your clit against it which helped significantly.

You looked up at Sylus and found his gaze once more. It was intense as he moved your head, his jaw clenched tight and hard measured breaths through his nose. Even when he was using your throat he was trying to exhibit some control. Trying not to go all out on you. And here he had promised not to be gentle. That simply wouldn’t do.

You moaned around his cock and his movements faltered as a new sensation tingled through him, just through the subtle vibrations of your moans. You moaned again, longer and louder to send more vibrations up his body. “Ah fuck…” he closed his eyes.

You pushed your tongue up, pressing it to the underside of his cock so there was just that bit more of friction as he thrust in and out of your mouth. “You are going to--fuck--” he moaned, grasping. “You’re playing a dangerous game, little bird.”

Almost there. Just a little more and he would break. You sucked him hard, making sure to keep his gaze as you did so.

“To hell with it. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” he grasped your head in both hands. “If it gets to be too much put your hands over your head and I’ll stop. Got it?”

You nodded, his cock still wedged in your mouth so it made your approval a bit awkward.

He thrust into your mouth, keeping your head still so you couldn’t pull away. You realized just how much he had been holding back before as he began fucking your mouth.

Instinctually you tried to pull away but he kept your head in place, tilting it back slightly so he could slide in easier. You were dancing between a place of pain and pleasure. You kept grinding on the steady pressure of his tail between your legs but your throat burned and you could barely see anything through your watering eyes.

There were too many sensations at once and it was driving you into mindlessness. Pain and pleasure were mixing into one and it was not stopping. You could feel a dribble of saliva leak out of the corner of your mouth and slide down your jaw.

Sylus was the most feral you had ever seen him as he panted and moaned, fucking your throat with reckless abandon. If he was saying anything you couldn’t hear it over the pounding of blood in your ears. Oh gods! Oh fuck! You were going to come!

You ground your clit harder on his tail and your eyes rolled back in your head as you came, your moan was nothing but a gurgle as Sylus continued to fuck your mouth. Gods above, how much stamina did this man have?

You were still teetering the plane between hazy pleasure and pain and realized that Sylus had been talking, muttering things to himself but you hadn’t been able to understand any of it. He was speaking something in Draconic. Probably more dirty words that were lost on you but spurred him. His breathing got harder and his thrusts got sloppier before finally he doubled over, bending his torso over your head with a sharp long moan and came down your throat. You did your best to swallow everything he gave you and it wasn’t until his legs stopped shaking that he pulled your head off of him.

You collapsed backwards onto the hard ground, breathing heavily through your burning throat. He followed after, scooping you up and rolling you on top of him. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice husky.

“Yeah,” you said in your own hoarse voice.

“Didn’t go too far?”

You shook your head. It was probably best you rest your voice. You had a feeling you weren’t going to be able to talk right for a while.

“I warned you.” he said. “Hope you found it worth it.”

Your only response was a cheeky smile. Sylus rolled his eyes and rubbed your aching jaw. He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I think you’re going to need something warm to drink to soothe that throat of yours and some steam. Come on.” he sat up, taking you with him out to the hot spring. He set you down in the water and told you to wait.

You scrubbed the mess between your thighs away and breathed in the hot steam. A few minutes later Sylus came back with a cup of hot water. You took a sip and were surprised to find he had mixed some honey in. He couldn’t brew tea but hot water and honey seemed to be a good middle ground. You were never more grateful that you could go to the village again as you were then. A month ago you would not have had any honey.

That reminded you, you needed to go back and pick up some more groceries to bring back. You were running low and since your mating bond had snapped into place you hadn’t left the mountain at all. Maybe getting out of the mountain would help with your hormones too. As much as you loved being able to keep yourself locked away with Sylus you did recognize that you were probably going at it too much.

You decided to be proactive about it and the next day went out to the village. Sylus offered to fly you down but the whole point was to put a little distance between you two so you said no and made the long walk back on foot. It wasn’t until you were halfway down the mountain that you remembered you were going to need to lug everything you bought back up the mountain again. And the cold air wasn’t doing great things for your already abused throat.

Why did you think this was a good idea?

Too late now. You finished the descent and journey out to the village. You went from store to store grabbing what you needed which proved to be a challenge since your voice was so weak. Any time one of the store owners asked why you lied and said you were coming down with a cold.

Your arms were overloaded with groceries and you were debating hiring a mule to help you carry everything back up the mountain when a group of riders galloped into town. Two of the riders carried flags with the crest of the kingdom on them and the one in front was dressed in official regalia. What was happening?

The people of the town were called from their homes and everyone gathered in the square to hear the news. “We bring you news of the ongoing war effort.” The official said. “It is with a heavy heart that I inform you that during a recent battle many of the troops perished in a mass slaughter along the northern front.” The official began reading the names of everyone from the village that perished causing no end of grief for everyone in the square.

If the news was just about listing the dead in a recent attack they wouldn’t have sent an entire entourage to your small village. Something else was happening and your suspicions were confirmed soon enough. The official cleared his throat and opened a new letter. “By official decree of the king, any able bodied man over the age of eighteen must conscript in the war effort. Maximum age restrictions and prior experience in war efforts that exempted a man from conscripting have been lifted.”

The man began reading out names and the others handed out conscription papers to everyone that stepped forward to receive them. You heard your father’s name called and watched as he limped forward to take the letter. No!

You tried to call out to him but your weak voice couldn’t be heard over the bustle of the crowd. This couldn’t have been happening!

Instead of hiring a mule you hired a horse and stuffed everything you could in the saddlebags before riding back as fast as you could to the mountain.

The moment you got back to the entrance of the cave you called out for Sylus.

“What? What is it?” he came running, hearing your distress. “What’s wrong?”

You collapsed into his arms sobbing. “What’s happened?” he asked. “Are you hurt?”

You shook your head. “The war…it killed many of the people from the village that were fighting in it. An official from the palace came by and said that anyone that is able-bodied has to conscript now, it doesn’t matter age or if you had served before. They have to go.”

“That’s terrible. I’m sorry.” Sylus rubbed your back.

“Is there anything you can do?” you asked. “I mean, you’re a dragon for goodness sake. You protected our village, wouldn’t it help the army if they had a dragon helping them fight?”

“Slow down. Breathe.” Sylus took the reins of the horse and tied it up so it wouldn’t go wandering. “Let’s talk about this inside where it’s warmer.”

He led you back into the kitchen next to the fire. “Now,” he said. “While I admire your faith in me you know even my power has limits. I am not like the other dragons that stand taller than buildings and have powers of fire breath or anything like that. I cannot single handedly take out an entire army.”

“But you could help, couldn’t you?”

“I am sorry for the loss your village has endured but I do not see why I should aid a king who sends so many innocent lives to be slaughtered and hides away in his castle.”

“Innocents will die either way. If you helped it could end sooner, maybe.”

“Even if I wanted to help, it is the law of dragons not to get involved in human wars. We die far too often from conflicts among our own people, we do not need to go looking for more.”

“But…but…” you buried your face in your hands. “But he’s going to die.”

“Who is going to die?”

“My father. They’re going to draft him for the war effort. He’s not going to survive it. I know it. None of the men they are taking from the village will. They’ll all just become enemy fodder.”

“I see…” Sylus sighed. He held you in his arms. “I hate seeing you in so much pain. Is there really nothing that can be done for them?”

You shook your head, sobbing into his chest.

There was a long pause as he let you cry into him. Then he took in a deep breath and spoke again. “I suppose there is nothing else to do.” he let you go. “I need to go see about something. Stay here. I will be back soon.”

“Where are you going?” you asked.

“Hopefully, to do something right.” he took off.

You went out to the horse and started unpacking everything you had bought and storing it away. By the time you were done most of the anguish had left your body and you sat numbly by the fire watching the flames dance. You took out the glass charm your father had made you and watched as the light refracted through it. What if you never got a chance to make up with him before he left? What if he died and the last conversation you had was that horrible fight?

You couldn’t think about it. It hurt too much to even consider.

Some time later Sylus returned looking grave.

“Where did you go?” you asked. “What’s wrong?”

He pulled you from your seat and hugged you tight. “You don’t have to worry about your father anymore, nor anyone else in the village. They’re being spared from the draft.”

“What? What do you mean? What happened?”

Sylus held you tighter. “I found the official that had come to your village and told him that a dragon is worth far more than a hundred old villagers. He agreed to spare them and release the surviving men from your village that are already fighting if I join the war effort.”

“What!” you pulled back to look in his eye. “But everything you said earlier. You said that you couldn’t because of dragon law.”

“I am neither a part of dragons or humans. The rules of either do not apply to me.” he said with shrug. “I will create mt own. I am done trying to fit into one or the other. Besides, they did ask for someone from every family. You are my family, so I will go.”

“Sylus, what if…what if you don’t come back?” your voice caught. You hated the idea of your father being used for fodder in this war but you couldn’t lose Sylus. You had only just become mates.

“Here this now,” he cupped your face, wiping the tears from your eyes. “I will always come back to you. Nothing will stop me. Not this war, not the hells, not even the gods. I am coming home to you.”

You hugged him tight, weeping once more. “You had better.”

The next morning Sylus left. You didn’t know how long he was going to be gone so he insisted that you return to the village and stay there until he returned. You didn’t want to leave the mountain but knew that the isolation would drive you mad with grief while you waited so you didn’t fight him. You packed a bag and rode the horse back down the mountain. Sylus walked with you just for that little extra time together.

Word of what Sylus had done for the village had spread like wildfire so when you arrived most everyone was waiting to greet you and see Sylus off. You knew the crowd meant well but Sylus stopped some yards away from them. “I don’t want to say goodbye in front of everyone so let’s do it here.” he said.

“Don’t say goodbye. It feels too permanent.” you said. “Just promise me you’re coming back.”

“Of course I’m coming back. You know I am.” he held you tight once more. “I love you. I will be back as soon as I am able.”

“I love you too. I love you so much.” you pushed yourself to your toes and kissed him. He breathed you in, letting the kiss linger as long as you could stand. “Stay safe.”

“I will. Try to stay out of trouble here.” he pressed one more kiss to your hairline. He took the first step back, letting you go before flying up into the sky and disappearing over the treeline.

You stood there watching the blank grey sky for what felt like forever until you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned to see it was your father. “I…I was wrong about your dragon and I was wrong for what I said to you. I understand now just how much you mean to him if he was willing to go to war for a bunch of people he doesn’t know.”

“He’s only been gone a few minutes but I already miss him so much.” you choked out. “What if he dies? I don’t--I can’t lose him. I cannot.”

“He’s a dragon, sweet pea. They have a reputation for being very hard to kill.”

You fell into your father’s arms. It felt good to embrace him again but at what cost? Your mate was gone off to a war that had claimed thousands. Even if he was a dragon, what were his chances?

You went back to the village. Life continued on. Autumn came to a halt and winter descended, leaving blankets of fresh snow on the ground. You had been looking forward to the winter. You had thought that the view from the mountain would have been amazing, seeing the world below covered in snow. Too bad you couldn’t see it. Not yet anyway.

As time went by you reconnected with your friends and your father and the entire rest of the village more than you had been during your short visits. You could have almost pretended that nothing had changed if it wasn’t for the constant aching loneliness in your chest any time you thought about Sylus.

When your father gathered the courage to ask about your relationship with Sylus you were honest. You told him that you loved each other and had become his mate. At the sound of ‘mate’ your father had gruffed.

“Father, please, it meant a lot to us.” you said.

“I know. But you said this ritual was a dragon equivalent of a marriage?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Well, if he wants to be married to you then he has to do it our way too. The gods will not look favorably on such union if it is only sanctioned by the hells.”

You smothered a laugh. “Yes, father. I’m sure we can have a ceremony when Sylus returns.”

Some weeks after you had returned to living in the village the men that Sylus had negotiated the freedom for had returned as well. There were many tearful reunions and proper mournings as the bodies that could be recovered were returned too. It was a beautiful sight.

You had approached one of the men that had been off fighting. You were good friends, at one point even lovers for a brief period though those feelings had long since vanished. You asked if there was any news about the dragon that had gone to fight but they had heard nothing after they were told they were being released back to the village. You tried not to show how heartbroken you were as you thanked him and walked away.

Despite being back in the village you found yourself far too idle for your own sanity. You had decided to go back to working in your father’s workshop. The labor was good for filling your time and distracting your mind.

You were making a vase one afternoon when an idea struck you. You could make something for Sylus. A little welcome home present for when he came back. Because he was coming back. He had made a promise to you.

Once you were finished with the vase you had immediately gone about grabbing your sketch book and drawing out an idea. For days you toiled and worked in the workshop. You had made several small versions of what you were planning on creating, testing the way each looked before deciding to go through with the full scale version of the one you wanted to make.

Your father seemed slightly concerned by the mania you had suddenly found yourself in as you worked. You rarely left the workshop but to eat and sleep. This was too important.

After another week of straight work your masterpiece was complete. You stood in the workshop staring at it next to your father. He eyed the large sculpture with awe and pride. “It’s amazing, but what exactly is it?”

“A welcome home present.” you said simply.

More time passed. Without your passion project you were spiraling back into your lonely depression. Is this what Sylus had meant before about becoming mates? Without him around it felt as if your entire body was numb.

You decided to take the time to learn more about dragons. There was a small library in your village and you found everything they had that related to dragons. Apparently, after Sylus had shown up on the mountain the library had gone out of its way to get more material about them so you had plenty to read. Most of it was stories about dragons, anatomy, how to kill dragons, but there was a little about dragon culture you were able to find. It was obviously written by someone who had observed dragons from a distance and without any way to interpret what they were saying in Draconic so a lot of it was speculative.

There had been an entire chapter in one of the books dedicated to dragon mating. Apparently dragons went into heats and ruts just like other animals. Was that…was that something you were going to have to watch out for with Sylus? He was dragon but he was also human. What would happen if he did get you pregnant? He said that only mates could breed. Did that only happen during ruts or…or was there a possibility you were already pregnant? Did you also need to worry about laying an egg? His mother laid an egg. What if you did too? Oh gods, you should have asked more questions.

One morning you were over at Tara’s house. She was doing a reading for you since you had been so stressed about Sylus. “What do your magic cards tell you?”

“It is all good news. I suspect your dragon should return safely and not too long as well. And this card…oh…” her face reddened.

“What? What is it? What does it mean?”

“Um well, this card is associated mostly with fertility and motherhood. It could also mean abundance and growth, meanings can be broad.” she scooped the cards back up and shuffled them back into the deck. “But if it doesn’t, then I think you may be giving your dragon a much better welcome home present than a glass sculpture.”

Your face burned and you shoved her shoulder. “Knock it off. You’re just as bad as the others.”

Tara was about to say something when her mother came rushing in. “Hello my dears, I had to come find you immediately. There’s been news.”

“About the war?” Tara said.

“About Sylus?” Your heart leapt.

“Yes. News came in just a minute ago that the tide of the war is turning. Your dragon has been decimating the enemy lines giving our troops the chance to advance and drive the enemy back to their own soil. This war may finally be coming to an end!”

“That’s amazing momma!” Tara squeezed her mother tight.

“And Sylus? Any other news about him?” you asked again.

“Oh no, I’m afraid. There was news that as soon as the battle started shifting he had disappeared. No one seems to know what happened to him.” she said. “I’m sorry my dear.”

“No.” you shook your head. “He’s not dead. He promised me he was coming home. That’s it. He has to be coming home. That’s why he disappeared.”

“My dear--” Tara’s mother tried to console you but you ducked out of her arms and ran for the door.

The winter snow was falling in a flurry of large flakes. The wind cut through the material of your cloak, chilling you to the bone. Sylus was coming back. He had to. You trudged through the ankle deep snow. You stared up at the sky, snowflakes catching on your eyelashes and melting on your cheeks.

“Please.” you begged whatever gods may be listening. “Please bring him back to me. Please. I just want him back. I want my dragon back.” you dropped to your knees in the middle of the road. The snow soaked through your skirt and chilled your legs.

A gale of wind buffeted you from behind and you curled more into yourself. “Please…I miss him so much. Please…”

“I missed you too, little bird.”

Your head whipped behind you to find Sylus standing there out of breath and face pink from the cold. You shot to your feet and tackled him in a hug. “Sylus!”

“By the hells woman, you’re frozen solid.” his wings enclosed around you, trying to imbue you with more warmth. “Are you trying to catch your death?”

You didn’t care one whit about the cold. Sylus was back! He was safe! You continued to hold him, weeping quietly into his chest.

“It’s alright.” he picked you up off your feet. “I’m home. I told you I would be.”

“Sylus…” you kept repeating his name over and over.

“Come on, let’s get you out of this cold.” he carried you back to your father’s house.

Your father was surprised to see Sylus carrying you inside but he smiled when he realized that your tears were tears of joy. “Good to have you back. This one hasn’t stopped moping since you left.” your father said.

“It’s been torture to be away.” Sylus said.

“I’ll give you two a moment alone.” your father nodded to you. “Do you want me to get the thing from the workshop?”

You shook your head. “I’ll show it to him later.”

Your father took you aside. “Please don’t have your reunion here at the house. There are some things a father should never hear.”

“Father!” you shoved him. “I wasn’t--go melt some glass or something!”

Your father chuckled but left the room.

Sylus came up behind you and held you again. “Shame. I was hoping to heat your body back up the old fashioned way.” he said.

“Back for five minutes and already trying to get me in bed.” you rolled your eyes. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

“Glad to be home.” he turned you around and kissed you. “I’ve been missing you.”

“Why are you here though? I thought you’d still be fighting.”

“I helped turn the tide of the war. That’s all the more they need from me, they should be able to handle it on their own now. Besides, I had something much more important waiting for me back here.” he pressed his forehead to yours. “Glad to see you made up with your father too.”

“That’s mostly thanks to you. Although, he does have on caveat.”

“And what is that?”

“You have to marry me.”

“Didn’t you tell him we already did that dragon equivalent of that?”

“Yes, but he wants it done through the human custom.” you wrapped your arms around his neck, “Besides, we get to indulge in another human custom afterwards.”

“And what is that?”

“The honeymoon. It’s an excuse to hole ourselves up in our home for a month, completely undisturbed.”

“An entire month?” he smiled. “Humans have some great customs indeed.”

“I thought you would like that one. So, should I tell father you want to head on down to the church?”

“In a bit. Right now I just want to breathe you in.” he kissed you once more. Your heart swelled and you relaxed in his arms. He was finally home.

#love and deepspace #lads sylus #lads mc #sylus x mc #sylus x reader #dragon sylus #lads dragon au

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hellavacritic · 2 days ago

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Vivziepop has a habit of reusing motifs and little design bitties on multiple characters.

People will often overlook this as “oh common themes” but I don’t believe it because I’ve know these characters for years before HH/HB was a thing and I’ve seen these designs on multiple OCs of hers.

The most obvious one I saw was Vaggie. The x’s on her eyes and boobs are all over various characters, and as most people know Vaggie was not originally an exterminator, she was a sinner. Other characters like the exterminators and even Cherri Bomb share the similar design. Luckily Vaggies new model was less similar. Cherri has an X on her boob and eye, as does Vaggie. We know why Vaggie has one on her eye, but why Cherri? Would her story or character design be altered without it? Is it a nod to “X marks the spot”? We just don’t know.

Another one I just noticed was the random and non-form following lines on the wings that Husk and the exterminators share.

Don’t get me wrong, non-form complying lines happen all the time, but it just reads bad in this medium and is visually confusing or cluttering. Neither one of these character designs is lessened by excluding those lines, in fact they would read better on screen without them.

I think I’m actually going to look at the designs more through out the series and try to see if there are more examples and make my own thread about them.

I think the criticism that her characters are over designed is a very valid point, especially when the consequences of having or not having said designs falls are the animators and artists burdens and are not Vivzie’s. She designs theses characters, and yes, she has the right to choose how she wants her characters too look, and if she wants them “overdesigned” that’s her right, but that decision directly impacts the load of work her animators have to deal with.

Yeah, I’m going to put together a list. Of common designs and little character detail bits, and I’m already suspecting I’ll see a lot of reuse of similar ideas, but I’ll try to weed out what I think is artistic style and what is just plain repetition.

The laziness with fem presenting styles is just as annoying as the masc one…

They all have the same fashion sense… if you think about it most of these outfits could be swapped with maybe a few colour tweaks and you wouldn’t see much of a fashion difference. As if it never even was a consideration in developing their personalities.

Practically the same … and she is considered royalty or at least someone at pop stardom?

BONUS: I’m sure we have all gotten quite sick of the “X”s all over the place… Cherri, Vaggie, Verosika, Carmine

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itneverendshere · 1 hour ago

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the fireworks are through, here we are, me and you - r.c

pairing: rafe x bartender!pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

decided to get back into writing with something smaller and just in time for the NYE! i'm a bit late (obviously) but wanted to write a little piece for my first universe, since it's so dear to my heart! hope all of you add a good, fresh, amazing start to 2025 and if you didn't, it will get better 💘

Rafe Cameron had never cared about New Year’s Eve—never cared about anything that came with it, really.

No resolutions, no countdowns, no stupid superstitions. For years, the only thing NYE had ever been to him was an excuse to get high, shit-faced, or both. Another party, another distraction, another night to drown out the noise in his head.

This year was different, he had you.

“Tell me if it gets too much, okay?”

“Baby, I’m fine,” you reassured him, placing a hand on his chest to calm him down.

Rafe nodded, but you could see the gears turning in his head. He was watching you out of the corner of his eye every second, quietly assessing if you were comfortable, if you were happy.

You leaned against the marble kitchen island, sipping something fizzy from a crystal flute, half-listening as he introduced you to another one of his college buddies. He had his arm slung low around you, the tips of his fingers brushing the hem of your dress like he couldn’t help himself.

“You still good?” he murmured, leaning close so that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your ear.

You tilted your head to look at him, catching that pretty face that never failed to make your knees weak.

“Yeah,” you confirmed, though the truth was you felt a little out of place. You still weren’t used to this crowd, their polished laughs and overpriced cologne. Maybe you’d never be.

But Rafe made it bearable, he always did.

His eyes traced the curve of your cheek, the way the fairy lights strung across the patio reflected in your eyes. You didn’t notice, busy scanning the room, but to him, you were the only thing worth looking at.

“You’re lying."

Your brow furrowed as you looked back at him.

“What?”

“You’re not fine.” He moved impossibly closer, his free hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, “You always do that little thing with your mouth when you’re uncomfortable.”

You rolled your eyes, but the corner of your lips twitched. “I’m fine, really. It’s just...not my scene.”

His hand dropped from your face to your hip again, pulling you a fraction closer, like he needed to feel you against him to believe you were really there.

“Okay, let’s eave,” he said, his tone so earnest it made your chest ache.

“Baby,” you sighed, placing a hand on his chest to keep him from spiraling into full protective mode. “You’ve been looking forward to this. I’ll survive a few hours of rich-kid bullshit. Promise.”

His jaw ticked, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he pressed a kiss to your temple, “Don’t care about the stupid party,” he murmured against your skin. “Just wanted to spend the night with you.”

You rolled your eyes again, but this time it was more for show.

“You’re such a sap.”

“Only for you.” The words slipped out so easily, like they’d been sitting on the tip of his tongue all night. He meant every damn syllable.

The night wore on and he stuck to your side like glue. It was endearing, in a way, as he introduced you to his university friends, always with some kind of proud little flourish—like saying your name was his favorite thing to do.

“This is her,” he’d said more than once, his chest puffed up slightly, like just having you on his arm made him the luckiest guy in the room.

The way he looked at you made it hard to stay annoyed. Everyone was polite enough, but Rafe didn’t let any awkwardness linger, always guiding the conversation, nudging you in with a soft “Tell them about that time…” or offering a quick compliment like, “She’s way better at that than I ever was.”

And when one of his friends said something vaguely pretentious, you felt his hand tighten ever so slightly on your waist before he cut in with a sharp, “Yeah, okay, Benji, but tell them about the time you puked on your mom’s Birkin.” His grin was all teeth, but his tone was light—he was still playing nice, but only because of you.

By the time the countdown was close, the party had spilled outside.

The chilly night air nipped at your skin, but you didn’t mind—especially when Rafe shrugged off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders without a word.

“Thanks,” you murmured, pulling it tighter around you. It smelled like him—clean, with just a hint of that cologne you loved.

He didn’t respond, just tugged you closer, his hands settling on your hips as he leaned down to look at you. “What are you gonna wish for?”

“What?” you asked, caught off guard by the question.

“At midnight. What are you gonna wish for?” His blue eyes so intense they made your stomach scream.

You laughed, trying to brush off the sudden seriousness in his tone. “Don’t know. A winning lottery ticket, maybe? Health?”

But he didn’t laugh, just kept looking at you like you were the answer to every question he’d ever had.

“What about you? Do you know what you’re gonna wish for?”

His lips twitched into the faintest smile, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Already got everything I need.”

“Be serious."

He shrugged, the gesture almost sheepish, like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on your heart.

“I, uh...might’ve wished for you last year,” he admitted, “Didn’t know it was you at the time, but...yeah. Turns out the universe actually listens sometimes.”

You stared at him, completely floored.

“You’re such a fuckin' dork.” You shook your head, trying to tamp down the stupid grin spreading across your face. “You really did the whole thing last year?”

“The whole thing,” he nodded, completely unashamed. “The grapes, the red underwear, the running around the block with a suitcase—”

“No,” you said, giggling now. “You did not.”

“Swear to God,” he shook his head. “Felt so fucking stupid at the time, but...worked, didn’t it?”

You arched a brow, fighting back a chucke. “It didn’t work. It’s all just superstitious bullshit.”

He shrugged, pulling you even closer. “You’re here in my arms, I’m pretty sure it did.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but before you could, the countdown began.

Ten seconds, then nine, then eight…By the time it hit one, his lips were on yours, the sound of fireworks and cheers fading into the background. All you could feel was him—his hands on you, his breath mingling with yours, the quiet hum of contentment settling in your chest.

Maybe he was right. Maybe the universe had been listening.

“Happy New Year,” he murmured against your lips, his voice hardly audible over the cheers and music around you. His forehead rested lightly against yours, his eyes still closed, he couldn’t pull away just yet.

“Happy New Year,” you echoed, your voice teasing. “Though I guess you’re feeling pretty smug right now, huh? Thinking you manifested all this.”

He hummed, his hands trailing up your sides. “Damn right I am. How else do you explain it?”

“I don’t know,” you replied, “Maybe it’s just dumb luck. Or—crazy idea—you charmed me all on your own.”

“Nah,” he said, beaming now. “Luck’s never been my thing. But you? You’re somethin’ else, baby. Don’t think I stood a chance once you walked into my life. If this is what I get every year, I’ll eat a whole fuckin’ vineyard’s worth of grapes next time.”

You snorted, “Don’t push your luck, Cameron. The universe might get tired of your whining.”

“Not whining,” he said, brushing his nose against yours. “Just thinkin’ about how lucky I got. Don’t know what I did to deserve this, but...shit, I’m glad I did it.”

“You’re just lucky no one got that on video. Kook Prince Cameron running around like a maniac? The scandal.”

“Don’t care,” he said simply, his tone so sure it made you pause. “Would’ve done it ten times over if it meant finding you.”

He didn’t how someone could be so completely themselves and still feel like his, you were made just for him.

“Rafe…”

“I mean it. You’re everything I ever wanted, baby. I didn’t even know it until you came along. Can’t imagine my life without you.”

Your breath hitched, the vulnerability in his voice wrapping around your heart and squeezing. When he kissed you again, the fireworks in the sky had nothing on the ones between you.

For once, he didn’t need the haze of a party or the numbness of a bottle to feel like he belonged, with you, he already did.

“You’re such a fucking romantic,” you whispered against his lips, your tone soft enough to take the edge off the words.

His cheshire grin returned.

“Guess you bring it out of me.”

You weren’t just someone he loved—you were it for him. His north star, the one thing that made the chaos in his head quiet. When he pulled back from another kiss, his eyes searched yours, a flicker of insecurity showing up.

“Was it dumb?” he asked suddenly, his voice hesitant.

You blinked, still dazed from the kiss. “What?”

“All that shit I said. The universe, the grapes…all of it. Was it too much?” He tried to laugh it off.

You shook your head, smiling in that way that always knocked the wind out of him.

“Not dumb. Kind of crazy, maybe, but sweet. Really sweet.”

His lips turned into a lopsided grin, relief flooding his features.

“Good,” he said, his voice firmer now. “’Cause I meant every word. Don’t tell anyone, though. Gotta keep up my rep.”

You laughed, and the sound was like a balm to his soul. He’d fight the whole fucking world to keep that laugh in his life. Your hands slid up to rest on his chest, your touch soft, familiar.

Safe.

“Tell me about this rep of yours.”

Rafe smiled to ear to ear, the devilish glow in his eye making your heart race.

“Y’know, bad boy, troublemaker, heartbreaker…” He trailed off, his smirk turning cocky. “And, uh, not to brag, but pretty great in bed.”

You froze for half a beat, pushing at his chest.

“Oh my God. Why would you even—ugh, you’re impossible.”

“What?” he asked innocently, though his expression betrayed him. “Just stating facts, baby.”

The teasing in his tone enough to make you groan.

“You’re disgusting,” you shot back, biting your lip to keep from squealing like an love sick fool.

“Disgustingly good-looking,” he corrected, leaning closer. “And disgustingly in love with you.”

You rolled your eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck.

“Nope. I take it back. I take all my kisses back.”

“You can’t do that!” He straightened, looking mock-offended.

“I can, and I just did.” You crossed your arms, stepping back just far enough to make him frown.

He followed instantly, tugging you back by the waist. “That’s not how it works, baby,” he said, dipping his head so his lips hovered just above yours. “You give ‘em to me, they’re mine. No refunds.”

You tried to glare, but the way his voice dipped on the last two words made your entire body shudder.

“See,” He murmured, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Then another. And another. He trailed them down to your jaw, his grin widening with each one, “All mine.”

You raised a brow, trying to act unimpressed even as his voice sent shivers down your spine. “If this is your way of trying to get laid, it’s pathetic.”

“Pathetic?” he repeated, mock horror lighting up his features. “Baby, you were literally begging for it last night—”

Your jaw dropped, your cheeks flaming. “Rafe!” you hissed, shoving at his chest, but he didn’t budge.

“What?” he said, all fake innocence, even as his face turned downright wolfish. “’m just being honest. You said you liked it when I—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” you warned, but he could hear the laugh bubbling just beneath the surface.

“Uh-huh,” he hummed, his nose brushing against yours as his lips finally, finally captured yours.

The kiss started slow, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips until you gave in, parting them for him.

The second you did, he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours with a possessiveness that made your toes curl. He tasted like whiskey and mint, your favorites. His hand tangled in your hair, pulling just right as he claimed your mouth like it was his job.

You moaned softly into the kiss, your fingers curling into the lapels of his shirt to keep yourself standing. He took that as encouragement, biting down gently on your bottom lip before soothing the sting with a slow, wet drag of his tongue.

“Thought you were taking all your kisses back,” he muttered against your lips, his voice taunting as he pulled back just enough to make you chase him.

“Still considering it,” you panted, though the way you tugged him closer said otherwise.

His lips were on yours again, it made your head spin. His teeth grazed your lip again, and when you gasped, he licked into your mouth, groaning softly as he tasted you. When he pulled back just a smidge, a thin string of spit connected your mouths, and the sight of it made your cheeks burn all over again.

“Y’know,” he said, his voice husky as he used his thumb to wipe the corner of your swollen lips. “If you keep kissing me like that, we might have to skip the rest of this party.”

You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes at him, “You think I’m that easy to distract?”

“Don’t need to think,” he mused as his hands slid lower, resting on the curve of your ass. “Pretty sure I just proved it.”

You sighed, but it wasn’t with exasperation—it was amusement, adoration.

Your your fingers brushed the collar of his shirt as you traced his cheek, “Skipping the party, huh?” you murmured, your lips brushing against his just enough to drive him crazy. “What would we even do instead?”

His hold tightened on your skin, his voice dipping into a near growl as he answered, “Baby, I can think of a few things.”

The heat in his eyes made your cheeks flush, and this time around you didn’t attempt to hide the shit-eating smile taking over your face.

“You’re not even a little subtle, are you?”

“Not when it comes to you,” he admitted, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your hip as he leaned in, his lips ghosting over yours again.

Happy Fucking New Year to him.

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literarystarfish · 1 day ago

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Love it when a character doesn’t show their pain or that they are dangerously close to their body’s breaking point.

Be it because:

they’re scared of someone else’s reaction

or they’ve been trained to ‘shut up about stupid little things like that’/‘work through it or else I’ll really give you something painful to whine about’

or they believe the mission is more important than their health

or they’re just stoic

or they refuse to show weakness because they think they need to be tough to be useful.

Because when whatever-it-is-that-they-are-hiding inevitably comes to light (only after getting so SO much worse because they didn’t care for themself, of course) the shock and vulnerability and desperation is sooo much better.

“I-I’m a-alright. P-promise…” “You can’t even stand up!”

“I think somethings wrong with— Did they just pass out?!?!!”

“But the mission!” “You’re hurt! Screw the mission!” “I-I’m f-fine! Don’t … don’t worry about me. Just… we have to finish the m-m-mis-mission.. it…it’s all that matters!”

“If you need help we can—” “No! I’m … I’m fine… Just… just let me do it.” “We don’t want you to hurt yourself even m—” “I’m FINE!”

“You’re burning up! Where did this fever come from so suddenly?! Come on. Let’s get you in a cool bath……. Is that a wound?! It’s infected! How long have you had this?!”

“What’s that on your clothes?……. Blood?! You’re bleeding!!” “It’s-it’s nothing…” “Nothing?! You need stitches!”

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” “B-because… you’d be mad at me for whining over something so small…” “What?! No! You need to take care of this! Let me help you.” “You… you don’t need to go through all th-this trouble for me….” “Its not trouble! I’d be glad to help you. Don’t ever hide something like this again! You could have hurt yourself even worse if you just left it like this!”

“I… I can.. I can keep going… I s-swear…” “You look like you’re about to drop any minute!” “I’m… I’m always tired…” “Not like this you’re not. What’s wrong?” “Nothing…”

#whump #whump prompt #whump community #whump scenario #whump dialogue #dialogue prompt #jayy writes #starfish writes

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sunshinedaisywrites777 · 2 days ago

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Shadows of the Past, Light of the Present (DI!Leon Kennedy x F!Reader)

Warnings- Bad experiences of the reader with her ex, age gap (Leon is in his 30's, reader is in her 20's)

A/N- Thank you everyone for all the likes and reblogs. All are much appreciated 💜

The mall was buzzing with life, filled with the chatter of families, the click of high heels on tiled floors, and the occasional excited squeal from children exploring toy stores. You and Leon wandered side by side, his hand comfortably resting at the small of your back.

“This place is huge,” Leon said, scanning the rows of electronics stores. “You sure we won’t get lost in here?”

You smirked. “We’ll be fine as long as you don’t run off.”

Leon chuckled. “Not a chance. I’m your bodyguard, remember?”

The two of you stepped into an electronics store, your eyes lighting up at the sight of sleek gadgets and shiny displays. Leon leaned against a shelf while you examined a set of wireless speakers.

“This one’s good,” you said, pointing to a compact model with excellent reviews.

Leon crossed his arms, tilting his head thoughtfully. “But does it work with that overkill TV you’re eyeing? Or are we gonna have to come back to upgrade the speakers next month?

You laughed, playfully nudging him. “Hey, quality matters! Plus, you’ll thank me when you’re watching movies with surround sound.”

His phone buzzed in his pocket, interrupting the banter. Leon frowned as he checked the screen. “Work,” he muttered, his expression briefly serious. “I’ll just take this real quick, okay?”

“Go ahead,” you said, giving him a reassuring smile.

Leon stepped outside the store, leaving you to continue browsing. You were engrossed in comparing two models of soundbars when a voice you hadn’t heard in a long time pulled you from your thoughts.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

Your heart sank as you turned to see your ex standing a few feet away, hands in their pockets, a smirk playing on their lips.

“What do you want?” you asked, keeping your tone neutral.

“Relax, I’m just being friendly,” they said, though the edge in their voice was far from kind. “Funny running into you like this. Guess you’re still into shopping for shiny toys instead of fixing what’s real.”

You stiffened. “This isn’t the time or place for this. Just leave.”

But your ex wasn’t done. “I still can’t believe how fast you moved on. Does he know how clingy you get? Or how you used to cry over the smallest things? Must be exhausting for him.”

Their words hit a nerve, memories of the toxic relationship flashing through your mind. You clenched your fists, determined not to let them see you falter.

Just then, a familiar voice cut through the tension.

“I think you’ve said enough.”

Leon’s calm yet commanding tone made your ex visibly flinch. He strode up to you, his expression cool but his eyes sharp as they locked onto your ex.

“And who are you?” your ex asked, their confidence wavering.

“I’m the person who’s lucky enough to be with them,” Leon replied, standing close to you. “And unlike you, I actually know how to treat them with respect.”

Your ex scoffed. “You don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

Leon stepped forward, his posture relaxed but intimidating. “Oh, I know plenty. I know they’re better off without someone who drags them down. And I know you’re wasting your time trying to get under their skin because nothing you say matters anymore.”

Your ex opened their mouth to retort, but Leon raised a hand.

“Save it. You’ve already said enough to prove why you’re in their past. So do yourself a favor and walk away before you embarrass yourself further.”

Your ex hesitated, then muttered something under their breath before slinking away into the crowd.

Leon turned to you, his expression softening immediately. “Hey, you okay?”

You nodded, though your voice trembled slightly. “Yeah. Thanks for that.”

He touched your arm gently. “You don’t have to thank me. Nobody gets to treat you like that—not while I’m around.”

You smiled, warmth spreading through your chest. “I mean it, Leon. You’re amazing.”

“Damn right I am,” he said with a small grin, pulling you into a comforting hug.

After a moment, he stepped back, his gaze playful. “Now, let’s get those speakers and grab some ice cream. I think we’ve earned it.”

The two of you continued shopping, his arm draped protectively around your shoulders. Later, over bowls of ice cream at the food court, you found yourself laughing at his jokes and forgetting all about the earlier encounter.

That evening, as you set up the new gadgets at home, Leon’s goofy commentary and occasional mishaps filled the room with laughter. The warmth of his presence reminded you that, no matter what the past held, the future was brighter with him by your side.

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unlawfulsp00n · 3 days ago

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Anything before Batman #401 is pre-crisis. The above panels from op are from Batman #411, 416, 422, 424, and 427 respectively.

I need people to understand that pre-crisis Jason and post-crisis Jason ARE NOT THE SAME PERSON.

This isn’t even like, a characterization opinion. He was literally retconned, rewritten, and completely changed. Intentionally. Not new writers veering off from what was originally done, but intentionally changed to make a new character. Pre-crisis Jason was LITERALLY a Dick Grayson carbon copy. Again, not an opinion, Dick was nightwing and with the NTT, people/writters missed robin, so the solution was to just… remake him….

Post-crisis Jason is the troubled delinquent street kid and WAS violent and angry (Yes, I KNOW NOT CONSTANTLY, but those characteristics WERE written into his character and in Bruce’s commentary on him EARLY ON in establishing him post-crisis)

Batman Vol 1 #428

The sweet kid you’re thinking of is PRE-CRISIS Jason. Yes, I’m aware post-crisis Jason was not constantly angry, but objectively, he was more angry and rough around the edges than pre-crisis. That was an intentional change to distinguish him from the Dick-carbon-copy pre-crisis version.

The “robin gives me magic” line that everyone quotes, but nobody ever cites? That is pre-crisis, Jason!!! And it’s always taken completely without context and wasn't even a sweet moment!!!

(read my tags on the post to see my rant, but it isn’t a whimsical moment proving how much better behaved he was, he is literally bitching about being invincible to justified disobeying Bruce)

Slight tangent about the stupid “happy/angry robin” discourse which, I agree, we SHOULDN’T reduce characters down to one emotion BUT…

The fact that HE IS A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT CHARACTER TO WHAT WE HAVE TODAY ASIDE, using pre-crisis Jason panels to prove he was a sweet kid, often used to compare him to Dick and why Dick was actually the violent one (???), is ridiculous because that sweet kid who is apparently so much better behaved than Dick IS A DICK REPLICA. You cannot use pre-crisis Jason content to prove he was the “happy robin” and Dick was the “angry robin” without proving Dick was also happy because he is literally a remake of Dick….

(again, I agree we shouldn’t reduce them down to one emotion, but 90% of the arguments I see backing up Jason‘s “happy robin” persona is the Dick Grayson copy… so, sorry to say…. but your argument not only proves that Dick was a “happy robin”, it also does nothing for post-crisis Jason)

I’m sorry, but I PERSONALLY IGNORE any comic panel/quote taken from before Batman #401 as evidence that Jason was a sweet kid (if anyone ever actually cites it rather than just randomly quoting it because they heard someone say it) because THAT ISN’T JASON.

at least not the one fandom likes, seeing as no one talks about circus acrobat Jason Todd

Again, not an opinion. The Jason people are staning is 10000% post-crisis Jason, and they are not the same! I’m sorry!

I don’t see anyone pretending Helena Wayne and Helena Bertinelli are the same person when arguably the same thing happened to her.

THAY ARE DIFFERENT PEOPLE

The only difference with Helena is that her name changed and Jason kept a connection to Bruce in a way that Helena didn’t, but the situation is the same. Their entire history/upbringing was completely changed. Believe it or not, changing someone’s upbringing, especially when it went from a happy circus kid to a kid on the streets, IS GOING TO CHANGE THEIR PERSONALITY.

You are welcome to headcanon and write whatever you would like, but please try to acknowledge that it’s a headcanon….. It’s a little frustrating when everyone is convinced an incorrect characterization is canon and then gets mad when other people like/argue for the canon version. Especially when the forced sweet kid Jason demonizes Dick to make Jason look better

Both are valid to like, but the discourse I see is often caused by fanon enjoyers just… not acknowledging that what they like is fanon? Like, IT’S OK if you prefer fanon, but arguing that it is canon and then blaming canon enjoyers for starting discourse is just….. frustrating and hard to ignore??

Put yourself in others shoes. You don’t like your favs being characterized in a way you perceive as wrong, well that’s where canon enjoyers are coming from too.

tl;dr

Pre-crisis Jason and post-crisis Jason are OBJECTIVELY not the same person

90% of evidence I see backing up that Jason was a sweet kid is pre-crisis content

The “robin gives me magic” line is pre-crisis Jason and taken out of context (I never see anyone cite it. Just paraphrase it. I swear none of the people repeating it know the context)

Pre-crisis Jason is a Dick Grayson carbon copy, and any argument that says Jason was a sweet kid using pre-crisis panels/quotes ALSO proves that Dick was a sweet kid

If you for some reason want to make the argument that pre-crisis Jason and post-crisis Jason are the same person, then you might as well be saying Helena Wayne and Helena Bertinelli are the same person, which sounds ridiculous no matter how you try to explain it

At the end of the day, people can like whatever they want! I don’t mean to sounds like I’m trying to dictate that, but understand where canon enjoyers are coming from when criticizing certain Jason characterizations. I personally don’t think the frustration is completely unwarranted….. especially when it starts affecting and butchering other characters’ characterizations around him

I’m not a Jason Todd expert, and I know he had good/sweet moments as robin post-crisis, but that doesn’t change the facts above.

"jason was the sweet robin"

"it was dick who was the murder child"

(it doesnt get better)

(it gets worse)

then he killed a man :)

and then he died

right after disobeying bruce

good news is, surprisingly jason being a diligent student and doing his homework is actually canon, him getting along with nightwing when hes a child is also canon (id provide pics but im tired just trust me bro)

what im trying to say is, canonly, jason is a complicated, angry, messy character, who had sweet moments and terrible moments, specially after his retcon, and i really like him even though his writers didnt

jason before the retcon doesnt really exist in the dc narrative anymore, but he was a sweet child

#also being a diligent student doesn’t inherently equal being a sweet kid…. that argument has always sort of confused me......#i’ve met many “good students” who were assholes #i’m not disregarding those sweet moments but that alone isn’t a demonstration of him being a sweet kid #some detail for the first panes from 411 jason lost it because he found out that two-face killed his father #and bruce quickly forgives him and understands where he was coming from #it's not treated like some long drawn out rift between them #but you know who didn’t try to kill his parents murderer despite what fanon tries to tell you?#and is often given a harder time about being angry in a situation like this by bruce and the fandom?#dick grayson #just saying #jason todd #bruce wayne #robin #batman #anti jason todd #sort of #more like anti fanon jason todd #dc comics #my meta

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bootsukki · 2 days ago

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fic masterlist!

full masterlist

taglist: @adelinesthoights @bellssforyou @halfp4stmidnight @avis-writeshq @carm1lla @sunghoonsgfreal @reirain @cherrypieyourface @aynfp @keldracula @kurroomii @chilichopsticks @shanchiikiss @starstrikeer @yzaelki @just-lilita @chiiibeaa @baby-bunnyxn @zarisluvr @xxpr3ttyk173rxx

Suno’s dining hall was like no other on campus. It was tucket away from the usual hustle and bustle of campus life. It was close to your building and it was the kind of place where people came to work, study or just enjoy a coffee with friends, the hum of muted conversations and clatter of coffee cups providing a comforting background noise.

As you enter, you find an empty spot for you to sit. Your lat class finished early today with Professor Ukai wanting to end a few minutes early. Professor Ukai was your favourite among all of your professors and even though not everybody like his way of teaching, you always found his honesty and view of the world interesting.

While waiting for Tsukishima you started to get more nervous and anxious about this lie of yours. There was no way that his friends wouldn’t notice that you were lying to their faces but, for some reason, you didn’t want to step out of his plan. You needed the social interaction, as pathetic as it sounded.

You saw Tsukishima enter the dining hall with a big gym bag on his back and he looked around, waving as soon as he spotted you, making his way towards your table. He left his gym bag on one of the free chairs.

“Sorry, I tried to leave practice a bit early. Have you been here long?”

“No, just arrived.” You answered, smiling. “I still haven’t picked up a drink.”

“I’ll get it for you, what do you like?”

“Could I get a green tea?”

Tsukishima gave you a thumbs up, making his way towards the beverage table, where he started heating up some water for you as well as filling up his water bottle, taking big glups of it. Tsukishima was attractive, he was tall and had broad shoulders and he seemed to be very well-fit. You coughed, moving your eyes away from him, focusing on the other students that were there enjoying a snack or working on their laptops.

“Here you go.” Tsukishima placed a steaming mug of tea in front of you and you muttered a quick thank you as he sat down.

“Alright,” he said, setting his water bottle down. “I feel like we need to set some ground rules if we’re going to pull this off.”

You nodded, the warmth of the cup heating up your hands. “Yes. I don’t want to be caught on the first night.”

Tsukisima smiled. “Okay, I thought that the story could be pretty easy. As I said, we are neighbours, which makes everything easy. We met once, starting talking and just decided to go on a date a few weeks after we met each other.”

“Well, Yamaguchi knows who I am and how long I have been living there, so…” You said. “If we say we went o a date a few weeks after meeting, we would have been together for almost a year, don’t you think?”

“You are right.” Tsukishima nods. “After summer, maybe? They’ll believe me if I say we kept in contact through text. Talked during summer and took you on a date after being back from break. September.”

“That’s okay, it seems normal enough.” You answered. “About physical….?”

Tsukishima clears his throat and nods again. “I… Well… If we are going to act as a couple we should at least be comfortable enough to look… convincing, I guess?” You look at him, sipping on your tea. “I’m not big on PDA at all and my friends should know this by now, so I think the only thing they wouldn’t find weird is hand-holding.”

“That’s fine by me.” You replied. “Something else?”

“Nicknames?”

“Uh….” You think of the last lovey nickname you had and you start tapping your foot nervously. “No, I’d rather not.”

“Yeah, same.Simple is better. Although… All my friends call me Kei or Tsukki so… I think you calling me Tsukishima would be weird.” he said, adjusting his glasses.

“Oh, okay. I’ll call you Tsukki.”

Tsukishima looks at you for just a second and takes a sip from his water bottle. “I may need to know some basic things about you, just i ncase.”

“Oh, yeah. I don’t any of your friends interrogating me about you and literally not knowing anything.” You laugh. “I need to know some things as well, like your birthday, your favourite food, if you play any sport…”

“Volleyball.”

You heart skips a beat at that.

“Volleyball?”

“Yeah, I’ve been playing with my friends since high school. I don’t aim to win things but I enjoy it a lot and I’m a part of the university team.”

“Oh.”

“And you?”

“I…” You think about the times you spent learning that same sport with your friends, all of them teaching you how to jump and hit the ball. You think about the times where he would pick you up and help you hit a ball, the times where he would take you to watch games or when you would hold him after everything in his mind was doubt after doubt about his career and decisions. “I don’t play any sport.”

“Volleyball is fun.” Kei adds, smiling. “Are you a part of any club?”

“I write for the university paper and the newsletter, which no one reads but I guess it improves my skills for the future.”

“Well, I’ll start reading it now.”

You smile for a second and finish your tea. Kei looks at you and takes his phone out of his pocket.

“This… It may be weird but I told Yamaguchi about us yesterday and he was really excited that he starting telling the groupchat about you and they… Well, they asked for a picture of you.”

“Oh.” You started to get a bit insecure about your looks for a second, you weren’t wearing the best clothes and you usually went to class without any makeup. “I don’t really good right now.”

“I think you look really nice.” Kei answers quickly and he looks at you. “If you don’t want to, that’s fine. Maybe I could use one from Instagram or something.”

“No, that’s fine.” You fix your hair for a second and smile. “Take the picture.”

Kei opens his phone camera and snaps a few photos of you and shows them, letting you choose the one you’d prefer people seeing before Kei sends it to his friends’ groupchat.

“I’ll show you a photo of them if you want. That way, you¡ll know something about them before meeting them.”

“When am I…?”

“Tanaka is throwing a small get-together at his apartment tomorrow night if you’d like to come. We usually play boardgames, videogams or watch a movie and drink.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Sounds fun.”

Kei smiles, moving his chair closer to yours. “I’ll pick you tomorrow at seven then.”

You nod, letting Kei sit down next to you, arms brushing together as he shows you a picture of his friends.

“I can’t believe you.” You turn, spoon on your mouth, looking at your roommate Yachi Hitoka, sending you a death glare. Your eyes widen, confused and you close the ice-cream lid. “I can’t believe I have to hear from Yamaguchi that Tsukishima and you are being all lovey-dovey.”

Well, being lovey-dovey isn’t what you would call it, but… You take the spoon out of your mouth and think about what you are going to say. You also need to lie to her, Hitoka is a really baaaaaaad liar and she’s not one to keep secrets. “It’s a new thing, really.”

Her death glare turns into an excited smile and she gets closer to you, moving your shoulders as she laughs. “I can’t believe it! How long?”

“Septemeber, I guess. We were talking a lot during summer so…”

“Girl, I can’t believe you kept this from me.” She says. “I’m really happy for you. You guys make a really cute couple!”

“You think so?” You ask, confused. “We haven’t been together for long…”

“(Y/N), I’ve thought about it for quite some time now. I started thinking about it one time we were all in the elevator and you were giving them their mail. Tsukishima was looking at you really weird. Now I understand that it was all loveeeeee.”

You laugh and shake your head, cleaning the dirty spoon and putting the ice-cream back into the freezer. You feel a bit bad for lying but on the other hand…

“Do you…” You interrupt her and the petite girls looks at you. “Do you want to help me with an outfit? I’m meeting his friends in like two hours.”

Without answering, Hitoka runs to your room and opens your closet, taking all the majority of your clothes out and putting some music on her phone.

“Sit down, I’m calling reinforcements.”

Tsukishima fixes his hair and picks up his wallet and jacket, but before he can open the door, Yamaguchi runs to the door and closes it.

“We need to talk about two things. First of all, are you nervous? Second of all, were you going to leave without me? We are going to the same place!”

“Why would I be nervous?”

“Because you are introducing all of your friends to the girlfriend we discovered you had literally two days ago. It’s a big step.”

“Well…” The truth was that Tsukishima was indeed nervous. He hated not knowing if he was going to be caught in his lie or if you would be too overwhelmed to continue with the arrangement. “Not really. She’s cool.”

“I know she’s cool but this is the first “girlfriend” you’re introducing.”

“That’s fine. Everything will be fine.” Tsukishima opens the door again. “And I don’t want to leave you alone but I want to spend some time with (Y/N) before we go to Tanaka’s apartment.”

“Oh. Ohhhhhh.” Yamaguchi smirks, pushing Tsukishima out the door. “Enjoy, champ.”

Before Tsukishima can respond, Yamaguchi closes the door on his face and he just sighs. He walks down the hall and knock on the door of your apartment, leaning away from the door as it opens. “Hey, I–” Tsukishima looks at the door number and confused, looks back at the girl in front of him which isn’t Yachi nor you. “Sorry, I–”

“You are in the right apartment, sorry!” The girls leans away from the door and Tsukishima notices, at least, 5 other girls looking in his direction. “We are just having a small gathering while (Y/N) gets ready. You are Tsukishima, right?”

“Right…”

“I’m Yuki Tsumoni.” Tsukishima hesitates, wondering if he should wait for you outside but Yuki pushes right inside and the other girls wave, making their way towards him. They start saying their names but he can't bother to remember them.

Yuki leads him to the living room–a small place filled up with decorations and trinkets collected by you and Hitoka during this past year, a black coffee table and some bookshelves.

“(Y/N) is almost ready.”

“Okay.”

Just seconds after the girls surround him and start asking him questions (“Oh my God, you’re so tall, how tall are you?” “How long have you guys been dating?” “Where are you from?”), you make your way towards the living room. Tsukishima looks at your outfit, you are wearing a long green sweater and some denim skirt with boots. His eyes move up to your face, noticing the light make-up and your hair up in a ponytail.

“Hi, sorry, I–”

“Not a problem. Shall we go?”

Tsukishima moves away from the girls, who are looking at both of them as if waiting for something. You smile at him and make your way towards the door, saying goodbye and Tsukishima grabs your hand, looking back at the girls, whose eyes are focusing on the way his hand engulfed yours.

You pray he doesn’t notice your gasp of surprise.

#haikyuu #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #haikyuu x reader

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