#when i tell you i haven't been the same since

[organic-bloodbath]

can you pls do a thanks x reader where reader is like lowk a bad ass. enemies to lovers kind of thing. maybe they have known each other for years. she tripped up during mingle but someone saved just in the nick of time but later in the bathroom he yells at her telling her he can’t lose her because he loves her. and then they kiss and stuff and fall asleep together (im a sucker for angst with a fluffy ending🙏)

I love you, fucking idiot

Thanos x Reader

Summary: As above.

A/N: Hope you like 🫶🏻

☆☆☆

You and Thanos had known each other since middle school. You wouldn't consider the two of you friends, honestly you didn't really know what you were since you wouldn't think of you as enemies either. You had always disliked him, atleast that's what you thought, but it wouldn't go as far as hate. More like he simply annoyed the shit out of you. Thanos had been teasing and bickering with you ever since you were teenagers, and he seemed to enjoy it. It was always harmless, he never actually bullied you.

"Well, well, well – look who it is," Thanos said as he approached you and looked at your figure from head to toe before continuing. "I see you've dyed your hair."

Your hair was naturally dark brown, but you had dyed it pink a few months ago.

"Did you do it to match with me?" Thanos smiled. "Didn't know you were so obsessed with me."

"You wish," you denied, rolling your eyes. "I haven't had a single thought about you in several months."

"So, you admit you've sometimes thought about me," he pointed out and brought his hand to rest on his heart. "That's so touching, Cotton Candy."

"Don't be so full of yourself," you scoffed. "And cut the nickname, it's gross."

When the game started right after, Thanos leaned a little closer to you.

"Wanna race?" he asked.

"For what?" you asked, right brow lifted in curiosity.

"If i win, i'll get to keep the nickname for you," he suggested with a smirk.

"And when i win?" you asked. "Because there's no way i'm losing to you."

"I'll drop the nickname."

"Well, challenge accepted."

As you were running forward, trying to ignore Thanos near you, someone suddenly pushed you, making you fall on the ground. You laid there on your back, managing to stay still when the doll turned around to scan any possible movements in the area.

"As clumsy as always," Thanos mocked quietly above you, smirk on his face.

"Shut up," you mumbled in annoyance.

When it was time to move again, Thanos offered his hand to pull you up.

"I don't need your help," you muttered and started to get up.

"Stop being grumpy and take my hand," he insisted.

You rolled your eyes and let him pull you up. However, he pulled you with more force than you had expected, making you almost to trip forward again but he held you still. You were standing against him now, your heads facing each other to make you lock eyes. Right then the doll turned again, forcing you to stay still for a while.

"Did you always have freckles on your cheeks?" Thanos muttered quietly as he examined your face closer, just thinking outloud.

"Duh," you mumbled and got off his grip when you could move again, taking a quick sprint forward to get ahead of him.

In the end, you did win the game just couple of seconds before Thanos, he was running right beside you the entire way.

"Ha! I win," you mocked him. "Didn't know you let yourself go out of shape when you started focusing on rapping."

"You were just lucky this time," he huffed and rolled his eyes, not wanting to bruise his ego by admitting his defeat to you.

"This time? You want to do this again, huh?"

"Until i win."

☆☆☆

The second game arrived the next day and you were supposed to form groups of 5 with each other.

"Alright, Y/N, you're with my team," Thanos stated, as if he had done the decision by himself.

"Um, no thank you," you laughed.

"What do you mean 'no'?" Thanos narrowed his eyes, taking a step closer to you.

"Now, what kind of competition would it be if we played in the same group?" you asked, crossing your arms on your chest. "The group that finishes earlier than the other wins."

"I see," Thanos hummed. "So what's the prize?"

"You'll see," you said and winked, leaving Thanos on his own without another word to search for your own team members.

Thanos wouldn't show it on the outside, but seeing you go and find a different group stinged his heart a little in a horrible way. Having you in the same group would have meant to either die together or live together. Being in different groups would mean the other could die while the other lived. But he couldn't force you to be in his team, no.

Your group played first and you did end up winning five seconds earlier than Thanos' group. It pissed him off so badly how you could win him twice and then rub it on his face afterwards.

"So, what do i owe you?"

"Besides all those pens you never returned to me in middle school?" you asked. "Hm. New shoes."

"Aw, is that a way to ask me to go shopping with you?" Thanos asked, having that same smile on his face which you hated. "I knew you liked my company."

You just punched his shoulder before leaving.

☆☆☆

The third game started, and along with his own team, you stood next to him as well.

"Now, you're not going to start wandering around this room on your own, got it?" Thanos said to you.

"What are you, my dad?" you scoffed, but having a playful smirk on your face. "You can't tell me what to do."

God, it started to annoy him how you took this as a joke. He wanted to keep you safe – no, he needed to keep you safe.

"You're not going to leave my side, are we clear?"

"That bossing me around is both annoying and kind of hot," you admitted, one of your eyebrows lifted.

"Are we clear?" Thanos asked firmly, voice getting louder.

"Yes, sir," you agreed, but Thanos could see that you didn't take him as seriously as he would have hoped.

As the rounds went by, you did stay with him and not go on your own ways. For that, Thanos was more than thankful. Since he had noticed that you kept following him, one round he didn't look so closely at your way anymore. He trusted that you were right behind him again, because the time was running out very, very quickly now and his team was struggling to find a free room. Thanos eventually did get into an empty room right at the last second.

Thanos turned around as the door had closed and locked itself, but when he saw a guy instead of you, his heart stopped. There were three players in the room with him, and none of them were you.

You had been right behind him, he had seen you. Barely two steps behind running and searching for a room with him. Thanos had been sure of it. But you weren't in the room now.

Thanos instantly ran to the gap of the door to peek out as the shootings started.

"Y/N!"

His heart was racing faster than ever before. Several people had been left outside, you included, and now their bodies were being carried into the black coffins tied with those fucking pink bows. It was too dark to recognise which body belonged to you.

Thanos leaned against the wall in disbelief. You couldn't be gone, that was impossible. You could survive anything. You had to.

He looked at his remaining team mates who were all staring at him. Nam-gyu, Se-mi and Gyeong-su, who looked at Thanos with the most terrified look out of all three.

Thanos stormed towards Gyeong-su and slammed him right against the wall, holding him captive by his shoulders.

"Where did you leave Y/N?!" Thanos shouted. "It was supposed to be Y/N!"

Nam-gyu had to pull Thanos away with a good amount of force so that he wouldn't start beating Gyeong-su up completely.

"Chill up, man," Nam-Gyu tried to calm Thanos down. "She probably found another room, don't get all heated up in the middle of the game."

Thanos took a deep breath and scrubbed his face with his hand in frustration. God he was angry - mostly at himself how he had let this happen just like that and not kept a closer eye on you. He should have held your hand to make sure you were there, but he knew you would have refused and only pulled your hand away.

For the next round, he didn't see you anywhere among the players. There were a lot left and he didn't go through the entire carousel because he had lost all hope. He was sure there was no way you could have survived finding a room in just a few seconds.

Thanos didn't say a word as he walked back with his team after the challenge was finished. Nam-gyu tried to talk to him but he didn't spare any attention on him at the moment.

Then, his heart stopped for a mere second when he saw you walking next to another player, having a conversation with her which Thanos couldn't hear. You laughed at something what player 120 said to you.

You were alive. He heard your laugh, which was always louder than many other people's laugh normally were. Thanos was frozen still for a few seconds, only looking towards you.

He was disappointed when he noticed that you kept your attention just on player 120 and didn't scan the room for Thanos as closely as Thanos did for you. But he didn't waste one moment longer until he stormed towards you with large and loud steps that made many other players around him to turn and look at him.

Thanos grabbed your hand without a warning and pulled you behind him towards the bathroom. You tried to yank your hand off but his grip was too tight.

"Su-bong," you said. "Su-bong, stop."

He didn't listen to you, only dragged you after him so fast you were about to trip soon.

"What the fuck, Y/N?" Thanos shouted when the door had closed. He didn't know if anyone was in the stalls right now and he didn't care.

"What?" you asked with brows furrowed, confused what Thanos was on right now.

"Don't you 'what' at me," Thanos spat, then pointing his finger at you. "What the fuck was that in the game?"

"What was?"

Thanos took a deep, frustrated breath in not to explode in total pieces in front of you.

"You didn't come to the room with me," Thanos said with a chuckle, though he found absolutely no part of this conversation funny. "You weren't in our room, Y/N. Why the fuck weren't you there?"

"I tripped," you shrugged. "You were gone already so i found another room."

You looked so indifferent and how this wasn't a big deal. You looked like you didn't care and it made Thanos even more enraged, fire building inside him unbearably hot.

Thanos laughed. Actually laughed. He didn't know where it came from because none of this was funny, but his emotions unfolded in uncontrollable laughter for a moment.

"Okay Thanos, what's going on?" you asked and crossed your arms. "I tripped, found a room and i'm now here."

"Don't you understand, Y/N?" he said in desperation, putting his arms on both of your shoulders. He had stopped laughing, his face completely serious and turning into anger and annoyance again. "You could have died!"

"Yes, Thanos, i know," you took your turn in laughing. "That's the point, they kill who lose-"

"But you could have been one of them!" he yelled at you, his face now only a few inches away from you. As he looked into your eyes, his wide eyes softened and his face relaxed more, voice turning a lot more quiet as well. "I could have lost you, Y/N. I was meant to protect you."

His hands moved upwards to cup your cheeks in their gentle hold.

"I can't watch you die," he said by barely a whisper. You leaned your face into his touch, a smile spreading on your lips. It annoyed Thanos. "What's so funny?"

"You like me," you stated with a grin. "Admit it, you like me."

Thanos huffed and rolled his eyes, letting go off you. He turned around to leave without another word.

"Come on, just say it," you said playfully, starting to follow his back. He gave you only silence and tried to ignore your finger drawing zigzag patterns on his back. "Come onnnnn, Su-bong. You like me, you like me, you like-"

He turned around in a mere second, stopping on his tracks so aprubtly that you bumped on his chest.

"I love you, Y/N!" Thanos shouted. "Don't you get that?"

Your eyes widened and so did his. The words weren't supposed to leave his lips like that, but you managed to press his buttons in a way to squeeze them out of him. You looked at each other, him sparing a quick glance at your lips.

Before either of you knew it, both of you leaned in towards each other and crashed your lips into a hungry kiss.

His arms were roaming all around your body, pulling you tightly against his body by your lower back. You had your arms wrapped around his neck, fingers brushing through his purple hair. His tongue forced your mouth open wider and was able to dig itself deeper to explore new parts of you.

Then, the door of one of the stalls opened slowly a few metres behind you, startling both of you out of the trance of savoring each other.

Min-su looked at both of you awkwardly, hint of pink on his cheeks, then quickly going to wash his hands and avoiding any eye contact with you. Neither you or Thanos moved during this time, not an inch besides of your heads to follow his movements. Your left hand was resting on his shoulder, your right fingers against the back of his neck. Thanos had his hands on your lower back.

Min-su glanced at you, both of you staring at him and waiting for him to leave, and then hurried out of the bathroom without another look. You and Thanos both burst out laughing at the same time.

"Oh my god," you mumbled and wiped a tear out of the corner of your eye.

Thanos put his finger on your chin, a smirk playing on his face.

"So, want to continue this," he suggested, trailing his tattooed finger along your lip and jawline, "somewhere more private, hm?"

You pushed his hand off.

"As if."

You were about to walk past him, but he grabbed your elbow and spun you around back to face him.

"So you're just going to leave me hanging like that, Y/N?" Thanos asked, eyebrows raised close to his hairline.

"Thanos, i'm not going to go to the damn stall with you."

Thanos grabbed your face into his hands, making you look at him. You thought he was going to kiss you again, but he only looked deep into your eyes.

"Y/N, i meant it," he said seriously. "I love you."

Your brows furrowed.

"I love you and i can't handle the feeling inside me when i even think that something bad might have happened to you," he explained with such a vulnerability in his voice you had never experienced before.

You looked at him seriously for a while, until you started to giggle.

"You loveee me," you teased.

"Shut up," Thanos mumbled, rolling his eyes, and turned his back to you.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders from behind and rested your chin on his left shoulder, gently caressing his chest with your palm in a soothing and calming way like you were trying to calm down a child after a breakdown. He stayed still under your touch.

"I think i like you too," you admitted.

"Just 'like'?" he asked. "Like, a friend or what?"

"Well, i wouldn't want to have you die either," you admitted. "It would make me sad."

"Would you cry over me?" Thanos asked.

"I might. A little bit."

Thanos knew you didn't show your true emotions easily to others and especially didn't admit them with words. He had always known that you showed your emotions through actions, not through speech. It would be useless to force you confess 'i love you' back even if you did love him.

"Would you be okay if... you saw me with another woman?" he asked slowly. "Someone else kissing me like we did, hm?"

You were quiet for a moment, still standing behind him on your tiptoes in the same position, but now grabbed his cheeks with your hand, turning his face towards yours. Your faces were so close your noses were only an inch apart from each other.

"You're mine, you hear me?" you stated seriously with a stern voice, fingers pressing hard on his cheeks. "No other woman is going to touch you as long as i live, got it?"

Grin spread on Thanos' face.

"You likeee me," he mocked you with a smile, imitating you.

"I'll hit you if i have to," you threatened but kept your hold on his shoulders as gentle and relaxed as before.

"I know you've fallen so madly in love with me," he insisted.

"And how are you so sure about that?"

Thanos turned around to make your bodies face each other.

"Because when i do this," Thanos said and simply put his hands on your cheek and lower back, pulling you closer, "you get all flustered and you scrunch your nose like this," he explained, slightly scrunching his own nose. "And you get jealous."

"I don't get flustered," you refused, narrowing your eyes, but you could feel your cheeks getting warmer.

"I'll get you to admit it some day."

"Get over yourself."

☆☆☆

When it was time to finally go to sleep, you had just laid yourself on your bunk, until felt another presence behind you. You didn't have to turn around to see who it was.

"If you think i'm going to have sex with you right now, you're very much mistaken," you stated and turned your back to him. "Go to sleep, Thanos."

Thanos scooped over to lay on the bed on his side behind you.

"Who talked about sex?" Thanos asked, like the entire thing was a foreign concept to him. "I'm tired after the game too, you know."

"What are you doing?" you asked as he put his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his body, your back against his chest.

"Getting a comfortable position to sleep."

You stretched your neck to look at Thanos over your shoulder.

"You planned to sleep here?"

"Obviously, señorita."

"Why?"

"Because that's what men do when they love a woman – or so i've heard."

"We're not a married couple, Su-bong."

"Do i have to fall on my knees to propose to you right now to make you shut up and accept me as your sleeping buddy?" Thanos asked, looking a little too serious that he'd actually do it if you kept resisting.

You eyed him for a moment until turned your head away from him back to rest on the pillow.

"If your hand wanders anywhere else than my waist i'll kick you to the floor," you stated seriously as you closed your eyes.

"Fair." Thanos lifted his head to plant a soft kiss on your temple. "Goodnight, grumpy princess."

"Gross."

"I know you love it."

[aangelinakii]

BATBOYS AS ROMANTIC MOVIE LEADS.

note : so basically the batboys and what romance movie / love interest character they would are !!!!

BRUCE WAYNE as...

CAPTAIN VON TRAPP ( the sound of music )

no i'm being so fr when i first watched this a few months ago i was so contemplating writing a fic or series of this exact scenario,, like reader is a nanny or something for bruce wayne's kids and they fall in love

take away nazi germany and it's LITERALLY a bruce wayne love story

him and his many kids

he would be slow to warm up at first, because at that time i imagine him to be very robert pattinson, very emo very lonely, very lego batman as in falsely independent

but then he realises he's in love with the person right in front of him, whom his kids adore, and he would do anything for them

DICK GRAYSON as...

JOHNNY MARTIN ( penelope )

if you haven't seen penelope this is your sign to go watch it because james mcavoy plays THEEE most dreamy man i have ever seen

he falls in love with who you are, not what you could be or what other people say you are,, he makes his own judgements and sticks to them, even everything you hate about yourself he sees the beauty in it all

literally ready to give up everything for That person

he may make a silly mistake like johnny did in the filmb, but you gotta realise dick grayson is not the man you want to let get away GO CHASE YOUR MAN GET HIM BACK

anf also the ending scene where johnny and penelope kiss HELLO he is literally putting his whole james mcavussy into that kiss and we all know dick grayson wouldn't half ass anything for the one he's most in love with ;(

JASON TODD as...

PATRICK VERONA ( 10 things i hate about you )

you can't tell me the whole bad boy and miscommunication thing wouldn't happen because it just WOULD

like say after everything's happened, jason too is a little bit emo and is this brooding "bad" kid who smokes in the corner of the library or something and hangs out at bars after school

he wants to make a little extra cash just to be extra rebel (he just doesn't want to ask bruce for money because he's going through a phase) and he doesn't reallllyyy care about the person he's being paid to take out

but then it hits and every time he looks at them angels start singing and they glow like they've been kissed by the gods

TIM DRAKE as...

JESSE WALLACE ( before sunrise )

okay forgive me if i get anything wrong here it's been a very long time since i last watched this movie but

tim has that cheekiness when he's in love that jesse has, maybe not exactly as cheesy (i can't watch the kissing scenes becquse they're so sloppy lol), but he falls and he falls hard

when he likes / loves someone they literally take up every fibre of his being and morph him into a lighter, happier person

he notices the little things, like the scene of wanting to tuck celine's hair behind her ear but being too shy because she already did it ???? that's SO tim because it's like he wants to be this suave macho guy, but he's just a little bit shy at the same time at initiating things

but he's in a european country getting all cultured and he's met this amazing person and he can't just let them get away

DAMIAN WAYNE as...

MR DARCEY ( pride & prejudice )

LOLLL yes i did it i could so totally see damian as like this awkward little thing but he shows he cares with the little things, like noting you prefer to walk so he asks to accompany you as opposed to taking public transport or driving ????

and also the hand thing

is so freaking damian

like he'd be a bit withdrawn, definitely awkward and he doesn't know how to act but he wants you BADDD sooo what daddy wants daddy gets

technically he is royalty right ?? i don't think mr darcey was royal but he definitely held a lot of prestige, so he'll be respected, have the manners he was taught to have growing up and struggle to talk to you any other way than to refer to you as if you were a blessing to walk this earth (but you're his blessing so it's okay)

[dinkerr]

Velvet & Chrome.

summary: rockstar vi meets playboy model reader at a club.

warnings: rockstar vi and model reader, public sex, oral sex, fingering, mentions of alcohol, the smut in this is really lazy, this is heavily inspired on pamela anderson and tommy lee, that's literally it i think??

1994 los angeles. famous rockstar guitarist violet lane had found herself two shots in the middle of a club with blaring lights and techno music filling her senses. she was unremarkable in the most distinguished way- no one would ever get past her without seeing her satiny reddish pink hair, tattoos and an immense amount of silver jewellery and piercings. she was pure eye candy, with her fanbase the opposite.

her eyes are trained on you dancing with a few of your friends and it's leaving her mind lost in a blurry haze. you haven't even fucking properly looked at her yet and you're driving her into oblivion, a state of mind she hasn't had the unfortunate of experiencing since she was a teenager. she swears she's seen you before, because your euphoria is too distinctive in a way she can't put her finger on.

she shouldn’t be doing this, sitting at the bar and staring at you like you're the first pretty girl her eyes have been blessed with. she could be doing anything right now, ordering another shot, hooking up with any and every girl that wants her, or just leaving this club to find a new one and start over all her progress.

she feels like a creep, but the voice in the back of her head is telling herself that she's just curious about you. and how you carry yourself. and the outfit you're wearing. and your tits. and you're fucking approaching in her direction. she panics the way she does when powders spending too much time on her eyeshadow before a show, tearing her eyes away from you and to behind the bar to gather her composure.

"can i get-" she started to one of the many bartenders in close proximity to her, though cuts herself off at the sound of another voice also ordering a drink. she turns her head to give them a "what the fuck" look on her face, though her furrowed eyebrows shoot up ever so slightly with her heart shaped lips parted the same when she realises it's you, her words caught in her throat when you gesture with your hand for her to go first.

"a. beer. thanks." fuck. a beer? you sit on the creaky stool next to hers, the cushioning a darker shade of red than hers. you both watch as said bartender walks off to retrieve the beer she ordered, though her head turns to look at you again before yours does the same.

she recognises you now.

"you're that model chick. right?" she asked, her eyes roaming over your figure, attempting a quick and subtle nod to greet you as she looks you over with as much casualness as she can fake. which, unfortunately, isn't that much. it's okay. she's never had any problem getting a bitch on her lap.

"i am." you respond, propping your elbow on the bar counter and resting the side of your face on the palm of your hand. your voice sounds like honey, there's no fucking way you're a real person. you look like you're sex appeal on legs, a little bit of tease, a whole lot of trouble. she wants to know the taste of you on her tounge, and if this were a porno, she'd already have you against the counter.

there's silence between the two of you- a considerable difference to every sound in the club around you. "i can give you an autograph or-" "no." she cuts you off this time, neither of you tearing your gaze away from eachother, even when the beer she ordered two minutes ago is placed in front of her with a small thud against the hard oak. "do you wanna share a cigarette?" is what came past her lips next, and she's mentally cursing at herself for suggesting a cigarette like a young teen with their best friend trying smoking for the first time.

you furrow your eyebrows at the ask. request. demand. you couldn't tell. you glance back over to your friends dancing, then back to her, knowint that they'd be more than well on their own without you for a little bit. she notices it, taking it as a sign to attempt to gain her composure (but failing at it, like before) by sliding off her stool to stand up, her hand reaching to grab yours and she's practically pulled you off to follow her toward the bathroom.

you follow her with no hesitation whatsoever, your eyes flicking between her hair, her leather jacket and eventually the furthest stall door in the bathroom, following her in and watching as she closes the door and locks it. she's turning back to you, your hands pulling her closer by the waistband of her jeans and she's leaning in to kiss you, her hands on you like a wild animal, grabbing your hips to pull your body flush against yours. she feels herself getting wet in her boxers at your nails scraping at her lower abdomen, lazily fiddling with her studded belt.

"you're pretty." you murmur against her lips, beginning to unbuckle said belt. "can i eat you out?" she immediately asks after you've finished your words, pulling away ever so slightly to look into your eyes. you're so pretty in ways she's never seen in another person, and she knows that she'll never be able to forget snd erase your face from her mind.

your lips curl up into a small smile at her ask, softly kissing the corner of her mouth and trailing them down toward her jaw. "i don't even know your name."

you don't even know her name. you don't even know who she is. "it's vi." she murmurs, her hands moving from your hips to hold both sides of your face so she can tilt it to kiss you again, feeling the contrast of her cold rings against your red cheeks, the next few words coming from her are almost a low whisper, "can i eat you out now?"

you're nodding one moment and the next she's on her knees with her fingers hooking under the waistband of your underwear, her eyes trained on your dripping pussy like a puppy with a bone. she started to softly kiss your inner thighs, her running to the back of one of your thighs to put it over her shoulder.

her eyes look up at you when she kisses your clit, enjoying the way your eyebrows furrow at the action before she's licking up your pussy, trying to taste every bit of your arousal on her tongue. you bring your hand down to run through her pretty hair and tug at it in attempt to bring her closer, moaning at the way she's lapping at your cunt like a dog.

you breathe out into the air, remembering where you are and biting down on your bottom lip so it's not obvious to everyone that there's a girl you don't even know who has her face buried into your pussy, though it's hard with the way she switches to wrap her lips around your clit to suck on it, the tip of her nose and chin covered in your arousal. "fuck. vi." you mumble under your breath, your pussy clenching around nothing like it's just begging to have something fill it up, and she absolutely loses it at the sound of you calling her name.

she listens, bringing her fingers to drag up and down your pussy before she finger fucks you, nibbling at your clit and pumping them in and out in sync with how your chest is rising up at down. you're trying your hardest not to scream and you're almost embarrassed that you're being like this, in a bathroom stall with a girl you hardly know, but that doesn't stop the way you're mouth is open, your back is arching off the wall and you're cumming against her fingers and tongue like clockwork. she fingers you through it, fingers pulling out of your pussy so she can lap up your cum. she pulls away, her lower face covered in your cum while she's looking up at you. "can i get your house number, pretty girl?"

you hear your phone ringing early in the morning a few days later, quickly walking through your house to answer.

"hi." she says over the phone, her voice sounding sadder than you ever thought you'd hear from her. "you haven't been answering my calls."

"i know, i'm sorry i ditched you. going to cancun for work." you explained.

"without me?"

"you can't come. it's for my work."

"i'll see you there. my and my buddies will find you." she spoke, and you realise who she is now. you're stuck with her.

[strawberryblue-blog]

Real love —Pedri Gonzalez.

summary: You and Pedri were best friends in childhood and have some history and you see each other again after a long time.

warning: YES. +18. smut, soft, cute.

words count: +3k.

#SEXYNOTE: I apologize for any mistakes in the story. English is not my first language and i use a translator.

The town square is illuminated with golden lights and garlands hanging from the bare trees as your eyes scan the place. You haven't been back here in seven years, yet every corner feels familiar. The music echoes in the air, people's laughter mingles with the murmurs of the party, and you hold your glass in both hands, trying to conceal the nervousness that invades you.

It shouldn't be a problem, it's just a reunion of old friends back home. You've been telling yourself that over and over again since you accepted the invitation from Luis, that friend who insisted you come. Everyone is here, your childhood friends, schoolmates, people from the neighborhood. All surprised to see you again after almost seven years abroad, greeting you cheerfully while everyone is having fun and wishing each other a good night.

The atmosphere is perfect, just as you remember it. You are a little excited, although you feel that part of you is missing something. Your friends are asking you all sorts of questions, your friends are jokingly trying to flirt with you, acquaintances are asking you how it's going. The music is at its peak and you dance animatedly with your friends like old times. When you get tired, your gaze scans the place, looking for Luis, who disappeared quite a while ago.

But suddenly, you feel a knot in your stomach.

And then you see him.

Pedro Gonzalez has his back turned, talking to someone, but you don't need to see his face to recognize him. His posture, the way he moves his hands while talking... it's him.

You stand still, feeling the accelerated heartbeat in your chest. When did he come back? Why didn't Luis tell you? Or one of your friends? You question yourself as you try to ignore the fact that he's here.

But the urge to approach invades you and you bite your lip nervously. It's really him. You can see him when he turns a little. He's with his brother Fer and his old friends, amused.

Even though he's different, more mature, taller, "better looking", he still looks just like your five year old mind remembered. Your childhood best friend. Your school chum. Your secret crush. Your first kiss, your first time. You had been together your whole life and when you turned 17 you promised to be together forever. Although it seemed that life had other dishes for you and finally, you each went on with your lives.

Your stomach churns when Pedro turns and his eyes meet yours. Did he recognize you or didn't he?

For an instant, everything disappears. The murmur, the music, the chill of the night. There are only his dark eyes staring at you in disbelief. His lips half open, as if he's going to say something, but he doesn't. Neither do you. You both stand still, as if time has stopped, as if the girl you were and the boy he was are there, looking at each other after almost a decade of distance.

You blink and look away. You realize you're squeezing the glass too hard and you loosen your fingers. Pedro makes a slight movement, as if to move closer but at the last moment he stops when his friends speak to him again.

The tension is palpable, though neither of you dares to break it. You want to get closer but you don't know if he feels the same.

Luis, appears patting his back and then sees you a few feet away, going straight for you, as he drags you towards the group of friends.

"Look who's back homeeee" he mutters towards them and they all turn to see you. Pedri's eyes light up and you smile at him.

"Hi guys" you greet cheerfully. They come over to hug and greet you.

"Y/n, we don't recognize you anymore!" says one of them hugging you, the ones like this agree. "You look super beautiful!"

"Thank you, Raul. You look handsome too" you thank him giving him a hug back.

When his moment arrives, his heart is pounding but you just pretend it is.

"Hello Pedro" you greet with nostalgia.

"Hello YN" he says in his sweet voice.

He produces some effects on you, as your skin bristles when you hear your name back in his mouth or his eyes so deep in yours.

Pedri smiles shyly at you as you approach him, your hands wrap around his shoulders and he holds your waist, melding them in a reunion embrace.

"You've grown up" he murmurs amused. "You've even changed your hair color..." he says somewhat surprised and you nod.

You smile at him.

"You too, Pedro" your hand flies to his hair shaking it, like old times. He smiles shyly and denies laughing when you remember the gesture.

"I like it, it suits you" he insists when his eyes meet yours.

You thank him with a smile and are interrupted by your friends, who walk up to you. Your mind lingers on that moment, on your reunion with your childhood best friend. When you used to be inseparable, when you met in room five, you were the two smallest in the school but you were the most terrible. Pedri was the friend who never left you alone and you were the one who helped him with homework, a promise you had made when you were only five years old. A distracted boy and a lonely girl. You always used to walk, play, study together, you even had the same friends. Although you were somewhat in shock to see him again today, no one had told you that he would be coming home too and you had a faint suspicion that maybe that's what you had come here for today.

Memories come back to your mind and you smile nostalgically, your gaze drifts to Pedro and you find him looking at you the same way. Your cheeks flush red as you look deeply at each other, averting your gaze to disguise that you weren't seeing him. Despite your childhood together and your secret relationship in your teens, you now look strangers and you can't blame him, he pursued his life in Barcelona chasing his dream and you went to England to become what you wanted most. Sometimes you kept in touch, for his birthday or yours, you even congratulated him when you became European champions. But you were limited to simple words. You had both grown up, you had changed close circles, you had watched, you had become his people.

You secretly admired him. You had to admit it. You followed every game, hoping to see him again and longing to meet him sometime, but now it was a ball of fear. Would it be like before? Or were you really strangers? You had to admit you wanted to get close to talk to him but you also didn't want to get your hopes up.

The party goes on and you separate from the group of guys, each going his own way but you were still watching each other from a distance. You met Pedri's gaze in yours when you turned to see him, you smiled at each other but didn't get closer.

When the party goes on, you excuse yourself saying you need air, while you try to find Luis, who disappears at some point of the party and you still can't find him. He is supposed to be the one who would take you home, since he was the one who convinced you to come in the first place. You curse silently.

"Looks like you've been left alone" Pedri's voice surprises you. He's behind you but you feel he's come closer than you expected.

You look up and he's smiling but there's some insecurity in his expression.

"I guess so" you mumble putting your phone away. "He promised he'd wait for me" you purse your lips.

"Maybe he didn't leave but he probably won't come quickly" he says amused and you laugh. "I can give you a ride if you want."

The proposal catches you off guard. You hesitate. It's been a long time since you were the inseparable friends you once were. Now you are two strangers with a past in common, you trust him but you don't know if it's the right thing to do. It's late though, and your house is far away and quite close to Pedri's. He probably just wants to be nice and feels commitment because he's the only one here you might know.

"Are you sure?" you ask, though you're not sure what answer you want.

Pedro nods.

Minutes later, you're in your car. At first, the silence feels heavy, awkward. Until he mentions a childhood anecdote, something silly about a Christmas when you tried to steal cookies from your grandmother's house. And, without realizing it, you laugh. The atmosphere becomes cozier even though it is tense, it is obvious that there is something more going on between you.

The words begin to flow naturally. You talk about your lives, about how you studied abroad and he went to Barcelona to work. You discover that, although time has separated you, there is something about his company that still feels familiar. You feel comfortable with him, just as you always did. And you are grateful that his bond is still there, despite the time.

"Remember when we were planning to travel all over the world?" he says momentarily, with a nostalgic smile.

"Yeah" Your laugh is soft but there's something bittersweet about it. "We were sixteen, we weren't serious" you say biting your lip.

When you remembered that, you bite your lip nostalgically.

It was at that same age when you had your first kiss together, you were naughty and curious kids, Fer had had his first girlfriend and you wanted to know what it felt like. A year later, you were still kissing and sneaking around, it was even him who took your virginity. You sighed at the memory, trying to get those thoughts out of your head. It had been in the past, you were young and stupid, now everything had changed.

Because, even though you dreamed it all together, you each ended up going your own way. Maybe you didn't make much effort to continue your relationship, maybe it was you who decided to move away a little, maybe it was fate. You don't know.

But you feel that something in you has changed tonight. And not in the way you want it to.

It's the way he looks at you, the warmth in his voice, the ease with which you can reconnect after so long. Something inside you that you thought was buried is beginning to awaken.

You can't afford this. Pedro will leave, just like last time. You don't want to make the same mistake again from the past when you were that little girl. You can't get attached again to someone who won't stay. And you'll go back to being the lonely little girl you once were.

The car pulls up in front of your house. You remain silent, hesitating whether to say something or not.

Pedro also hesitates. There's something in his gaze, as if he's debating whether to say goodbye or do something else. And then he does.

He leans toward you, slowly, giving you time to walk away if you wish. But you don't. You stand there, feeling your palms sweat and his legs falter as his lips brush yours.

When hia lips touch yours, it's as if those seven years of distance never existed. As if you were again in that summer when everything was simpler, when life had not yet separated you. It is a slow, soft and delicate kiss. Like a first kiss. Like the last time. Although you don't want it to be. Then, as you both gasp for air, you kiss again. This time, harder, more desperate and needy. The tension builds and you let yourselves be carried away by the need to feel.

His hands shoot to your waist and he pulls you closer to him, causing a gasp to escape your lips. Embarrassed, you pull away a little and can't believe what just happened. Your mind explodes, it's a lot to swallow and you try to take in what just happened but you don't have time. His lips take you again, as your stomach roars with nerves. You feel a little shaken by the movements, it's not an appropriate thing to be making out with your ex-best friend in his car outside your house but you do it anyway, with haste and vehemence. As if you've been waiting for this moment for almost a decade and maybe you were.

As you feel your lips go numb, your foreheads pressed together, your breaths hitching in the silence of the night.

Your hands hold your face while yours cling to your muscular necks, your are agitated and anxious but make no move.

"I'm sorry, I had to" he admits in a whisper and you smile shyly.

You don't know what to answer, you're nervous. Too nervous. You never expected that he was the one who kissed you.

"You wanted to?" he asks at your silence.

You nod with your cheeks red with embarrassment. Of course you wanted to, wasn't it clear from your kiss? Or maybe he was being polite. He was so special.

"I saw you tonight after so much, I guess I didn't want to miss my chance" he murmurs and you feel your heart race. You smile a little confused but aware of the way your whole system sped up. How your whole mind clouded over.

And there, with your heart pounding, you decide that maybe you don't have to hide your secret much longer. You bring your mouth to his and kiss him again, if I understand the warmth of his touch is your skin, his wet lips on yours, his hot tongue dancing with yours.

It's been a long time since you've felt this way again, since you two saw each other, it was imminent. You needed each other, missed each other. You pull away from him, open the car door and get out, motioning for him to follow you. Pedri confused, does so, without hesitation. You tiptoe around the front of your house, going to the gate and carefully open it. The night is still dark and you can barely see each other in the darkness, he takes your hand as you enter your backyard and you direct him towards the tree house that is still intact in your yard. The same house in which you only spend hours here, the same house in which you dreamed your future.

A giggle escapes you as you almost trip over your heels on the grass and kick them off, as you begin to giggle like children. You start to climb the ladder, carefully and when you are inside the tree house, you reach for a quilt that was on the ground. Then you sit down on the floor waiting for Pedri, who immediately comes back for you. He crawls towards you and you take his face again to kiss him, this time much safer, more intimate. It is a fleeting kiss but full of love as Pedri crawls up to you, positioning himself between your legs on top of your body. Your fingers play with the strands of his hair, nervous and eager, enjoying his warm lips. His mouth moves to your neck and kisses that weak spot, making you moan, biting your lip to hide the gasps. His hands roam your waist, your belly, your legs.

He begins to undo the zipper of your dress and with some clumsiness, due to the little room and the discomfort of the floor, he manages to take off your dress, leaving you in your underwear. Then your hands find the buttons of his shirt and start to undo them, one by one, while you start kissing wildly again. When you remove his shirt, your hands caress his shoulders and pecs, embracing them with your fingers, touching his hot, strong skin. You had missed him and so much.

He gasps and caresses your bare waist, roaming his hands down your body until he reaches your bra. He pulls away from your mouth and asks your permission with his eyes, which you quickly nod. You want him to touch you, every part of your body, every corner of your mind. You need him. Pedri undoes the bra and pulls the straps down your arms, slowly and lovingly, carefully, under your gaze in his. The atmosphere is sticky, warm and lovely. It's special and you both know it. You make it so. Its special feeling.

Your breasts are exposed to him and even though he already knows every part of your body, he feels you like that first time when you were just teenagers only now you are both grown and changed. You help him take off his pants and he pulls them off a little further away, both of you are left with only one garment and anxiously looking at each other's bodies like the first time. It's so romantic, the way he looks at you, the way he touches you, the way he feels you. Gasping sighs are heard throughout the tree house, disappearing into the darkness of the night outside the walls.

Finally, you are both naked, Pedri on top of you, kissing your neck, his fingers wandering down your chest, all the way to the hollow of your breasts. He asks permission again with his gaze and you don't even have to speak, your erect nipples speak for you. His lips encircle one of your nipples, with his hot tongue he licks them and you squeal with relief. His fingers take the other and his palm encircles your breast, squeezing it as he hears you moan. Your hands wrap around his neck and you caress his soft skin, as he settles between your legs. It is so glorious. The way Pedri makes you feel with a single glance, let alone how he makes you feel with his touches.

Memories of that first time come back to you as he lines up at your entrance, his cock playing with your hot center, moistening with your arousal. You both gasp with pleasure as he opens up inside you, little by little, unhurriedly, with precision. Compared to that time, this time it is safer, Pedri already knows what your body is like and knows his body above all, so you both emerge in an endless desire of pleasure. Your hands don't stop holding his shoulders, your back arches with every movement, it's soft, deep and romantic. You've never felt anything like this before. This is not just sex. It's something deeper that not everyone can reach.

It's love.

"I've missed you, little one" he whispers as their foreheads touch.

Your smile appears on your mouth and you feel your body react to his confession. You've missed him too, more than you think.

"I missed you too, Pedro" your hands hold his shoulders tightly.

You can't keep talking, despite having thousands of things to say, but you are in an ecstasy of pleasure.

His eyes on yours as he penetrates you and you gasp with pleasure, your bodies sweaty and hot, your skins clinging to each other, your hearts beating with desperation. It is just as you remembered it. That night when you were seventeen, inexperienced little boys who were curious and just wanted to become adults. Today, adults remembering the past, living the future.

His strokes are more erratic, more desperate, as you feel the pleasure building in your belly. You want to scream but his lips silence yours as he continues to fuck you lovingly, gently. His body fits perfectly into yours, your hands were born to touch his skin and his lips to kiss yours. It's perfect.

Climax is not long in coming for both of you, gasping with pleasure as he explodes inside you and the whirlwind of pleasure washes over you. Pedri moans loudly as your back arches, colliding with his chest, both of you gasping for air as you continue to be clouded by the wave of pleasure. When you manage to steady yourself, Pedri lies down next to you, his arms wrap around your shoulders and he shrugs you into his chest.

Your hearts beat so hard it sounds like background music, your bodies agitated and sweaty, filled with the ecstasy of love and pleasure. You catch your breath after kissing again, warm and delicate. How you never kissed another person. How he only knows how to kiss you. Your chest aches with feelings, blossoming from the depths of your heart. Feelings that were embodied since that afternoon in the room of five, when you were those children.

Your hands rest on his chest and you lift up a little, placing a last soft kiss on his mouth. Pedri smiles in love as your eyes meet his.

"I don't want to lose you again" his voice is barely a whisper but hear loud and clear his statement.

Full of passion, full of love.

And now you know for sure too, that you don't want to let go either.

[sirfrogsworth]

I'm glad folks seem to like my light and effort photography post because I nearly melted my brain trying to write it. Every long post I write usually takes several days and a lot of mental discomfort. But I need to write for my sanity, so I keep on keepin' on.

My recovery is going so slow. In two months I have reduced the dose of the offending medication by 75%. Which sounds like a great success when you say it out loud, but it feels pretty miserable most of the time. The last 25% is proving to be much harder.

It is kind of a mindfuck because the worse I feel the more progress I am making. When I feel shitty, I feel productive. When I don't feel as bad, I feel guilty for slowing my progress.

I am bored because I struggle to concentrate. I am lonely because it is very hard to communicate with friends. My CFS is greatly exacerbated to where it feels like my limbs weigh a thousand pounds. My house continues to be a disaster zone because I can't clean. I barely have any counter space because I am too tired to wash dishes.

I've reached that point of desperation where I keep cleaning the same spoon over and over again.

I have simplified my self care to food, medicine, and sleep. I make sure I am eating. I make sure I take my meds. And I make sure I get as much sleep as possible. I will sort the rest out later.

I haven't been able to do any photography or photo editing in the last 4 months. I miss it very much. But creating that post and giving out photography advice helps a little. Even if it was difficult to write.

It's weird looking at my photography from over 7 years ago. It feels good that a lot of it still holds up. But I know so much more than I used to. Especially when it comes to studio lighting. I have all of this unrealized potential and no energy to create new photos. I have leveled up so much and it is frustrating when I can't show off what I'm capable of now. But I'm hoping if my recovery is successful I can finish building my home studio and photograph cool shit.

In the meantime, I do find photography education rewarding when I have the energy. If my body was fully cured tomorrow I think I would try to be an actual teacher of photography. I really enjoy sharing what I've learned and I think I am pretty good at it. The internet has been a great resource for knowledge but lately it feels like there is a lot of educational noise. It is really difficult for beginners to tell the difference between good and bad information. I look at some of these threads in the "Ask Photography" subreddit and many of the answers make me cringe.

I feel bad because I could really help some of these folks seeking answers but they are stuck with people who aren't really suited to educate. Either they don't know what they don't know and are too confident in their current expertise—causing slightly inaccurate to straight up confusing to blatantly wrong answers.

Or they do know their shit but are patronizing and arrogant to newbies.

I won't lie, there *are* stupid questions. But it is still best practice to act as if there are no stupid questions.

It's hard for me to criticize too much because I started a photography education Tumblr way before I was qualified to do so. I really thought I knew what I was talking about but I did not fully understand what I was teaching. I was mostly parroting what I heard from actual qualified educators. Thankfully when I look back at those posts all of the information is fairly accurate. It seems my saving grace was selecting good teachers.

Knowledge is so weird. You can have the correct information in your brain. You can use that information to get good results. But it is entirely possible to not understand that information.

I actually had a personal "eureka!" moment where everything unlocked almost all at once. I was watching a tutorial and the teacher talked about "image forming reflections" and it felt like every neuron in my brain fired at the same time. I had an epiphany and ever since I have had a deep understanding of light.

Just a single phrase inspired a realization that caused a cascade of other realizations. I've never experienced anything quite like that.

Have any of you ever had an epiphany like that? Aside from that single instance, I've only had mini-epiphanies. Like when I realized the moon is just constantly falling and missing the earth. My brain always imagined astronauts and satellites and the moon as things floating out in space. But everything in the universe is just free falling... all the time. Tom Petty knows what I'm talking about.

But that baby epiphany failed to unlock understanding for all of quantum gravity.

What was this post about?

I think I rambled into a few tangents.

In any case, I feel like crap and that's fantastic.

[humiliatemeplesse]

You went out to meet up with friends one night and didn't turn off your computer. In fact, you forgot to close the website you had been looking at, a gay sock fetish website. Your roommate went into your room looking for his favorite workout t shirt, sometimes your stuff got mixed together when you both used the washing machine and dryer right after each other. He heard the fan to your computer kick in and for some reason it made him go over and hit the space bar. The screen lit up and there was you sock porn, guys sniffing each other's socked feet for pages and pages. When you came home that night, he was sitting in the living room watching TV drinking a beer. The first thing you noticed was that he had his jeans tucked into his socks. You thought that was weird because you had never seen him do that before, not even in sweatpants. He had his feet crossed up on the coffee table . He said hey, how you doing? Go grab a beer and come hang out, we haven't talked in a while. You got a beer and went back into the living room. You sat down and he looked at you and he kicked off his sneakers. They just fell to the floor. He said hey, I was in your room yesterday. You know how our laundry always gets mixed up, I was looking for my favorite t-shirt you know, the one from college. By mistake I hit the they keyboard to your computer and I saw the website you were looking at. What the fuck is that? You got some sort of fetish for guy's socks? There were pages and pages of guys sniffing each other's socks, what's that about? You were stunned and your heart started beating really fast and you started sweating and you mumbled something incoherent. Hey look, I'm not going to judge you, he said. But that's some weird shit. I mean we've all heard of this stuff before but it's still not normal. I can't believe that you've been able to hide it from me since college. So you know what I'm going to do for you? I'm going to let you sniff my sweaty soft feet. That's right, I'm not going to judge you and I'm going to give you what you need. But in exchange you're going to be my house bitch. And he laughed. That's right, you're going to do my laundry from now on. And you're going to clean this place top to bottom every week. Neither of us do it and frankly I'm sick of the mess and the dust. It's going to be your job from now on. And if I ask you to do anything else you do it without question. This doesn't mean I'm not your friend anymore, this just means you're going to do what I tell you to, you're just going to be my friend and my little bitch at the same time. He laughed again. And, if you don't do it I say, I'm going to tell all your friends, all your co-workers, and your family that you're a sock sniffer. And if you don't think I will, just try me. I hate to threaten you like that but, think of it this way, you get what you want and I get something out of it too. So get over here and get on your knees at the coffee table and start sniffing my sweaty soft feet. I don't change them every day, I usually just pick them up the floor every three or four days and wear them to work and working out and soccer practice too. They get pretty funky once in a while. So enjoy. Oh, and make sure you do my laundry before you go to bed tonight. And I'll expect the house to be clean top to bottom by the end of the weekend. Now go ahead, sniff 'em and sock boy. And he laughed again. You felt humiliated and like shit but you still had a hard on as you sniffed his stinking socks.

[the-winter-spider]

Yours, Always | Part One

Steve x Reader, Bucky x reader

AU

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: Angst, fluff

A/N: I know the major majority voted for This Love to be the next one I post buuuuuuut my gut was telling me to post this one. I will be posting on Ao3 soon to just because a few people messaged me about it!

As always i will still be updating my other stories i just have its easier for me to be creative when i have multiple things going. Next part of Say dont go soon!

Masterpost

---

The smell of tomato sauce fills the kitchen as you stir the pot, trying to focus on the task at hand. The garlic bread is almost ready, the pasta is done, and Steve will be home any minute. It’s a typical night, like any other night, but there’s something tugging at the edges of your thoughts, something that’s been there for days, weeks even. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but it’s theres like this persistent knot in your chest that refuses to unravel. It's heavier than the typical weight you’re used to.

Lily’s laughter echoes from the living room, her voice a sweet hum in the background as you stir the sauce one last time. She’s watching some cartoon, probably the one with talking animals who save the world that you’ve memorized every word to by now. You glance at the clock. Steve should be pulling into the driveway soon. Everything is falling into place, just like it always does. Just like it should, just like you hoped for, just like you wanted.

It’s the kind of life you imagined for yourself, stable, predictable, good. And yet, lately, you feel like something’s missing. You don’t feel whole, but yet you haven't felt whole in years.

Your phone buzzes on the counter, and you wipe your hands on a dish towel before picking it up. It’s a text from your mom. You smile, unlocking the screen to see what she’s sent.

Mom: Look what I found! :)

There’s an attachment, an old photo, grainy and slightly faded. You tap it, and the image fills the screen.

Your breath catches in your throat.

It’s a picture of you and Bucky.

You were maybe eight years old, standing on the playground, grinning like it was the happiest day of your life. Your arm is slung around Bucky’s shoulders, and his arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. His smile is lopsided, the same one you always knew, that mischievous gleam in his bright blue eyes. You had forgotten how blue they were. His hair’s a mess, sticking up in different directions, but it suits him. It always did.

The sight of it hits you like a wave, washing over you in a rush of memories you didn’t realize you’d been holding back. The sounds of the kitchen fade, the smell of the sauce disappears, and you’re not standing there anymore. You’re back there,, back in a time before everything got complicated.

You’re back in third grade, on that day when it all began.

It’s fall, and you’re seven years old, almost eight. Standing on the cracked blacktop of the elementary school playground. The air has that crispness that makes your skin tingle, and the sun is warm on your face, but you don’t notice. You’re too busy staring at the ground, clutching your lunchbox in both hands, wishing you could disappear.

They’ve been circling you for a while now, the group of kids from the fifth grade, the ones who always find something to pick on. Today, it’s you. Today, you're sure it’s your clothes, you were wearing one of your Dads old shirts it was huge and it had holes but it still smelled like him. Or maybe it’s your shoes, the ones that squeak when you walk, or the way your hair frizzes up when the wind blows just right.

You don’t know why they’ve picked you today. You never know. You just know that your throat is tight, and your hands are shaking, and you’re trying not to cry.

“Hey, Y/N,” one of the boys sneers, his voice sharp and cruel. “What’s wrong? Gonna cry again? You gonna run home to Mommy? Since you don't have a Daddy!”

You bite your lip, trying to keep the tears back. You’ve cried in front of them before, and it only made things worse. You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry today, you were going to be strong, because you were strong, your Mom said so. But the lump in your throat is growing, and no matter how hard you try to swallow it down, it won’t go away, it never does.

They laugh, jostling each other, getting closer, their voices growing louder. You want to run, but your legs won’t move. Your feet feel like they’re glued to the ground.

“Leave her alone.”

The voice cuts through the taunting like a knife, sharp and clear. You blink, looking up, startled. The group of boys falls silent, and you see a boy standing just a few feet away, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, his face set in a determined frown.

It’s Bucky, he just moved here. You don’t know him at all.

He steps forward, planting himself between you and the group of kids, his chin held high, his blue eyes blazing with a kind of courage you’ve never seen before. He’s smaller than most of the boys, but he doesn’t seem to care. He stands there like a wall, like he’s daring them to do something.

“What do you want, Bucky?” one of the boys mutters, but there’s a shift in the air now. They’re not laughing anymore. They’re not pushing you around.

Bucky crosses his arms over his chest. “I said, leave her alone.”

For a moment, the boys hesitate, glancing at each other. You can see the uncertainty flickering in their eyes, the way they’re sizing him up, trying to decide if he’s worth the trouble. And then, one by one, they start to back off, muttering under their breaths as they turn and walk away.

You stand there, frozen, your heart still pounding in your chest, staring at the boy who just saved you from what felt like the worst moment of your life.

Bucky turns to you, his expression softening as the danger fades away. “You okay?” he asks, his voice gentler now, like he’s talking to an old friend.

You nod, still too stunned to speak. You don’t know what to say. You’ve never had anyone stand up for you like that. You’ve seen him around school before, but you’ve never really talked to him. And now, here he is, looking at you like he’s been waiting for this moment all along.

“I’m Bucky, I’m new” he says, sticking his hand out like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

You blink, glancing at his outstretched hand, and then back at his face. He’s smiling now, that crooked grin that makes you feel like everything’s going to be okay. You reach out and shake his hand, feeling the warmth of his palm against yours.

“Y/N,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

“I know,” he says with a wink. “Wanna be friends?”

You stare at him for a moment, not sure if he’s serious. No one’s ever asked you to be their friend like that, so straightforward, so sure. But then you smile, and you realize that you want nothing more than to say yes.

“Okay,” you say, your voice a little stronger this time. “Yeah. Let’s be friends.”

And just like that, everything changes.

You’re still standing there, staring at your phone, caught in a moment that isn’t here anymore.

You can still hear the laugh that must have come right before the picture was taken. You can still remember the way the sun hit his brown hair just right, making it look lighter than it was. You can still feel the warmth of his arm around you, the way he always pulled you just a little closer, like you were his to protect.

Your fingers hover over the screen, tracing the shape of his smile. You were both so little.

You don’t even hear Steve come in.

The front door opens, closing softly behind him. A rustling of keys, a quiet greeting as he passes the living room. “Hey, kiddo.” You vaguely register Lily’s excited response “Daddy!” then something about cartoons and garlic bread, but you don’t move.

You don’t even notice when his footsteps come closer, steady and familiar, until suddenly, there’s a warm kiss pressed against your cheek, and his voice is right there so soft, loving. “Babe.”

You jolt slightly, blinking, the world around you snapping back into focus. “Huh?”

Steve smiles gently as he pulls back, but there’s a flicker of curiosity in his blue eyes. You follow his gaze as he glances down at your phone, which you’re still gripping too tightly in your hands.

Before you can react, he reaches around you, his fingers brushing against yours as he zooms in on the photo. His voice is light, teasing. “Oh my God, I haven’t seen many childhood photos of you?” He tilts his head, grinning. “You’re adorable.”

A small laugh escapes you, though it feels fragile. He never saw any past your eighth birthday because they were all filled with him. You try to relax, try to be present, but the weight in your chest won’t let you.

Then Steve’s expression shifts slightly, the amusement fading just a little as his gaze moves to the boy beside you in the photo. “Who’s that with you?”

Your fingers tighten around the phone before you can stop yourself, your voice small. “Bucky.” The name lingers in the air, heavier than it should be.

And just like that, Steve stills.

He’s heard the name before. Of course he has. He knows the trauma you carry, the grief that shaped you in ways you never talk about. He knows about the years of silence, about the loss that still lingers in the spaces you refuse to acknowledge. Mostly from your Mom filling him in. He knows loss, that's why the two of you work so well, you both lose people around the same time but Steve’s worked through is, you though, you’ve just bottled it up.

But he’s never actually seen him.

Never seen the boy who once held your whole world in his hands.

Steve doesn’t say anything right away. His hand rests lightly on the counter beside you, his other arm brushing against yours as he continues to look at the photo. His silence isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s heavy, thoughtful.

“He looks…” He exhales softly, shaking his head. “I don’t know. I guess I just… I’ve never put a face to the name before.”

You swallow, your throat suddenly tight. “Yeah.”

Steve shifts, turning slightly so he can see your face. His voice is quieter now, careful. “You never really talk about him.”

You don’t look at him. You can’t. Instead, you keep staring at the photo, at the two kids who had no idea what was coming. “I know.”

Steve watches you for a moment, his fingers brushing against yours again. He doesn’t push, doesn’t ask for more than you’re ready to give. Instead, he does what he always does, he gives you space to breathe. “You okay?”

The kindness in his voice nearly undoes you.

You force yourself to nod, to look away from the past and into the present, the man in front of you, the life you built, the warmth that should be enough. “Yeah,” you murmur. “I’m fine.”

Steve doesn’t look convinced. But he doesn’t call you on it, he never does.

Instead, he leans in again, pressing a lingering kiss to the side of your head, his lips soft against your temple. “Okay,” he whispers. “If you ever want to talk about him… I’m here.”

You close your eyes for a second, inhaling deeply. You don’t deserve him. But right now, you just nod. “I know.”

And just like that, Steve lets it go.

He squeezes your hand before stepping back, moving to take off his jacket. He calls out to Lily, something about setting the table, and just like that the moment passes.

But your phone is still in your hand. And Bucky’s face is still staring back at you.

The sound of the oven timer snaps you back to the present, jerking you out of the memory like a splash of cold water. You blink, shaking your head as the kitchen comes back into focus. The sauce is bubbling, the bread is ready, and Lily is calling your name from the other room.

But your mind is still stuck in that moment, stuck on Bucky’s face, on the way he looked at you, on the way everything felt so simple back then. You glance down at your phone again, the old photo still displayed on the screen, and something inside you twists.

You haven’t thought about Bucky like this in a long time. You haven’t let yourself. There’s too much there, too much to unpack, and you’ve built your life carefully around avoiding those memories. But now, here he is, staring back at you from the past, and you can’t help but wonder how things got so complicated.

“Mommy!” Lily calls from the dining room, her voice full of impatience. “Is dinner ready yet?”

You force a smile, tucking the phone back into your pocket. “Almost, sweetie! Did you set the table?”

She runs off, and you turn back to the stove, stirring the sauce one last time. The garlic bread smells perfect, the pasta is ready, and everything is exactly as it should be.

The three of you gather at the table, the kind of scene you’ve played out a thousand times before. Lily’s already in her seat, bouncing in excitement, her eyes bright green shining as you bring the food to the table.

“Daddy! We’re having pasta!” she exclaims, as if Steve hadn’t already figured that out.

“Looks like it, kiddo,” Steve says, smiling at her. “How was school today?”

Lily launches into a detailed explanation of her day, who she sat with at lunch, what book her teacher read to the class, how she got to be line leader, and what game she played at recess. Steve listens with that attentive smile, nodding and asking just the right questions. He’s good at this, being present, being the father Lily adores.

You’re sitting there, your fork twirling spaghetti absently, but you’re not really listening. You’re watching them, but your mind is miles away. You can still feel the weight of your phone in your pocket, the picture of Bucky tucked away, waiting for you. His grin, his bright blue eyes… It’s all coming back, flooding your thoughts with memories you’d locked away for years.

You don’t realize how quiet you’ve gone until Steve’s voice cuts through the fog. “Y/N?”

You blink, snapping out of your daze, meeting his concerned gaze from across the table. “Hmm?”

He smiles gently, but there’s a crease of worry in his brow. “You okay? You’ve been kind of quiet.”

You nod quickly, forcing a smile that you hope is convincing. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… tired, I guess.”

But Steve doesn’t look convinced. He knows you well enough to see through the surface. He watches you for a moment longer, his eyes searching your face, but then Lily tugs at his arm, pulling his attention back to her.

Dinner wraps up soon after, and you help Lily brush her teeth and get into her pajamas, tucking her in with her favorite stuffed animal. Steve reads her a bedtime story, his voice soothing and steady, and you sit beside him, offering a few smiles as Lily drifts off to sleep.

Everything should feel perfect. This is your life, your family, the life you’ve built with Steve. But as you head down the hall toward your bedroom, that picture of Bucky lingers in the back of your mind, pulling at you in ways you can’t shake.

In the bedroom, Steve pulls off his work shirt, changing into an old t-shirt as you start pulling back the covers. The familiar routine plays out just like every other night. But tonight feels different. There’s a distance you can’t seem to bridge.

Steve climbs into bed, settling against the pillows. He looks over at you, still watching, still noticing.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks again, softer this time.

You pause for a moment, trying to find the words. You don’t want to lie, but you also don’t want to open up a conversation that you’re not ready for. “I’m fine,” you say, hesitating only slightly. “It’s just… That picture threw me off.”

“C’mere” He says softly, pulling you against his chest. Steve doesn’t say anything for a while.

You’re still resting against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing, feeling the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. His fingers trace lazy patterns against your back, a comforting rhythm that should soothe you.

But you can’t stop thinking about the picture.

The one still glowing from your phone screen on the bedside table.

The one Steve had looked at for longer than he probably realized.

The one where you and Bucky were standing under the summer sun, arms slung around each other, grinning like the world belonged to you.

But something about the moment lingers.

Maybe it’s because you know that Steve, for all his kindness, for all his patience, has never actually seen Bucky before.

He’s only ever known of him, the shadow of him, the weight of your grief, the way you never talk about him. And now, for the first time, he had a face to go with the name. It was his adolescent face and you thought what would he think if he saw his face the way you tried to forget. With his little stubble, that dimple on his chin, his ocean eyes, his smile, his everything. You could almost see it so clearly in your head but at the same time you couldn't. You didn't even remember what he sounded like.

You wonder what he thought when he saw it.

You wonder if he were to see other photos of you and him. The ones where the way Bucky would hold you, like it was the most natural thing in the world. If he would notice the way you were looking at each other, no just like best friends, but like something more.

Something that never had the chance to exist.

Steve shifts slightly, exhaling a quiet breath. Then, softly, he asks, “Do you want to tell me about that day?”

Your stomach clenches.

Not because you don’t want to.

But because you do.

You swallow, fingers curling into his shirt. “You really want to know?”

“I’d like to,” Steve says simply. “He was important to you. Is important to you. And I’d like to know more about him from you.”

It’s such a Steve thing to say. So genuine. So unthreatened.

And yet, past tense.

Was.

Steve didn’t mean anything by it. You know that. But the past doesn’t feel like the past. Not when it’s still sitting in the center of your chest, not when it’s still carved into the parts of you that never healed right.

But it’s not Steve’s fault. You know that. There wasn’t a malicious fibre in his body.

So you push the thought down. You swallow hard, ignore the lump in your throat, and nod.

Steve presses a kiss to the top of your head, then leans back against the pillows, waiting. Letting you take your time.

You close your eyes.

And you let yourself go back.

“Come on, come on, you have to!”

Bucky’s voice was breathless with excitement, his hands gripping yours as he dragged you through the crowd. The fairgrounds were packed, kids running with half-melted popsicles, parents struggling to keep up, the sound of laughter mixing with the distant hum of carnival games and the occasional crackling announcement over the loudspeakers.

“Bucky, slow down!” you had whined, nearly tripping over your own feet.

“No way, you’re gonna love this!”

You had barely caught your breath before Bucky stopped in front of the biggest bounce house you’d ever seen.

“Look at it,” Bucky breathed, his eyes wide with awe, like he was staring at something magical. “It’s huge.”

You had crossed your arms. “I don’t know…”

“Oh, come on.” Bucky turned to you, grinning that grin, the one he always used when he wanted to get away with something. “What’s the Fourth of July without a little fun?”

Before you could protest because you both knew you were about to, he was already kicking off his shoes, already climbing inside, and the next thing you knew, he was bouncing, laughing, calling your name, looking so happy it was impossible to say no.

So you kicked off your shoes, too. And the next ten minutes were pure chaos.

You had both gone flying across the inflatable floor, bouncing so high you nearly crashed into each other half a dozen times. Bucky had grabbed your hands at one point, spinning you in a circle, laughing as you shrieked, as if he could make time stop just by holding onto you..

You had been trying to get back to your feet, still giggling, when Bucky tripped, taking you down with him.

You landed in a tangled heap of limbs, and when you tried to get up, your face was way too close to his, your noses almost touching.

For the first time all afternoon, Bucky had stopped laughing.

For a second, you just… looked at each other.

“Bucky! Y/N! Time for pictures!”

Your mom’s voice snapped the moment in half, and you scrambled away from him, your face warm as you followed her voice. You were thankful for the bounce house because you were blushing like crazy you had almost had your first kiss with Bucky. All the girls in your class had already had their first kiss. But it felt too soon you were only eight so you were grateful for your Mom.

Bucky was still grinning like a fool when he caught up with you, his arm slinging around your shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Smile!” your mom had called.

And you had. You always smiled when Bucky was near.

Both of you, smiling, glowing, bright with childhood joy, frozen in a moment you’d never get back.

When you open your eyes, the room is quiet.

Steve hasn’t said anything, hasn’t moved. His fingers trace slow, absentminded shapes against your back, like he’s trying to hold you here, in this moment, in this life you built with him.

But your mind is still somewhere else.

Still in that bounce house, in the warmth of a Fourth of July that feels like another lifetime.

“My mom took that picture right after we got out,” you whisper. “We were covered in dirt, sweating, our hair was a mess. But we were happy.”

Steve exhales softly. “He sounds like he made you really happy.”

Your throat tightens. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt. “He did. He was my best friend.”

The words barely make it out.

Steve doesn’t say anything else. He just holds you, letting the silence stretch, letting you breathe.

But even in the quiet, Bucky’s laughter still echoes in your ears.

He leans over and kisses your forehead softly, his hand brushing against your arm. “I love you, Y/N.”

You close your eyes, feeling the warmth of his touch. “I love you, too,” you say, and you mean it. Of course you love Steve but you also can’t help but mourn the love that never was, the one you lost.

Steve is asleep within minutes, his breathing slow and steady, but you lie there, wide awake, staring at the ceiling. The room is dark, the only sound is the faint hum of the heater kicking on in the hallway.

Your hand drifts to the nightstand, and before you can stop yourself, you reach for your phone. The screen lights up in the darkness, casting a soft glow on your face. You scroll back to the picture your mom sent, opening it again, staring at the image of you and Bucky.

You trace the outline of his face with your thumb, the memories of that day flooding back, the way he smiled at you like he’d always be there.

You never thought much about what life would look like without Bucky in it. But then, life happened. Choices were made. Time passed.

And now, here you are, lying in bed with your husband asleep beside you, staring at a picture of a boy you once knew, wondering how everything got so complicated.

You close your eyes for a moment, letting the memories swirl around you, but when you open them again, you’re still here. In this life. In this bed. With Steve.

You turn off the phone and place it back on the nightstand, the glow fading as the room is plunged back into darkness. But even as you close your eyes and try to fall asleep, that picture of Bucky lingers, imprinted on the inside of your mind, refusing to let go.

You wake up feeling… off. Not exactly sad. Not exactly anxious. Just off.

His face still lingers in the back of your mind, hovering like something unfinished, like a conversation you walked away from too soon. You try to shake it, try to focus on the morning routine, getting Lily ready for school, making breakfast while Steve drinks his coffee and reads the news on his phone. You go through the motions, plastering on a smile when necessary, laughing at Lily’s excitement over something one of her classmates said yesterday.

It’s normal. Everything is normal.

So why does it feel like everything inside you is unraveling?

“Beautiful?” Steve’s voice breaks through your thoughts. He’s watching you over the rim of his coffee mug, brow furrowed slightly. “You doing okay?”

You force a small smile, reaching for your own mug. “Yeah, just thinking.”

“About?”

You hesitate, then glance at Lily, who’s humming to herself as she doodles on a napkin. “I was thinking about heading down to visit my mom this weekend,” you say casually, stirring your coffee though you’ve already added enough sugar. “It’s been a while.”

Steve smiles, setting his cup down and reaching for your hand across the counter. His touch is warm, grounding. Safe. “That sounds nice,” he says, rubbing small circles over your knuckles with his thumb. “I know she’d love that. Do you want me and Lily to come with you?”

Guilt presses against your ribs. He’s always like this, so sweet, so thoughtful. You don’t deserve it. Not when you’re sitting here, pretending this trip is just about visiting your mom when, in reality, it’s something else entirely.

“No,” you say quickly, shaking your head. “It’s okay. I think I just need a little time.”

Steve studies you for a moment, searching your face like he’s trying to read between the lines. Then he nods, squeezing your hand before letting go. “Okay,” he says easily. “But promise me you’ll drive safe?”

You smile, relieved he’s not pressing because he knows why. “Always.”

He leans over, kissing your forehead softly. “Good.” Then he pulls back, grinning. “You know I’ll just be calling to check on you every few hours anyway.”

“Wouldn't have it any other way.” You laugh, but it feels hollow. You know you love Steve but why does it feel like a stranger’s hands are gripping your shoulders, turning you around, pulling you backward into something you swore you left behind?

The drive to your mom’s house is long. Almost three hours, but it feels even longer with your thoughts weaving in and out of the past. You keep the radio on, some soft indie playlist filling the silence, but nothing can drown out the memories creeping in. Especially when your mind starts to think of all the new songs you’ve added to this playlist, the ones he never got to hear, the ones you know he’d love but you’ll never get to find out.

It’s late afternoon by the time you pull into your childhood home. The house looks smaller somehow, though nothing has changed. The same mailbox, the same front porch with the wind chime that always scared you when you were little remind you too much of the horror movie sounds Bucky would terrorize you with.

You step inside, inhaling the familiar scent of lavender and old books. Your mom greets you with a tight hug, fussing over you before leading you to the kitchen, but there’s an unspoken understanding between you. She knows why you’re here, even if you haven’t said it out loud. She knew the moment she sent the picture.

“So,” she says, setting down a cup of tea in front of you. “Are you looking for something in particular?”

You wrap your hands around the mug, staring down at the steam curling into the air. “I just… I was thinking about some old things.” You hesitate, then force the words out. “About Bucky.”

Your mom nods, her expression unreadable. “His letters are still upstairs. I never touched them. Everything is exactly where you left it”

A lump forms in your throat. “Thanks, Mom.”

She reaches out, squeezing your hand “Well I oughta run to the store to get some stuff for dinner!” She smiled before placing a kiss on your cheek and letting you go.

You barely register walking up the stairs to your room but here you are and the box is exactly where you left it.

It’s tucked away in the corner of your bedroom closet, buried beneath stacks of forgotten sweaters and high school yearbooks. Your hands tremble as you pull it out, settling onto the floor. Dust clings to the lid, and for a long moment, you just stare at it.

You shouldn’t open it.

You shouldn’t because the can of worms you'd open with it..

But your fingers are already moving, lifting the lid, revealing a neat stack of envelopes inside. Some are crinkled at the edges, others yellowing with age. Your name is written on every single one, in his handwriting.

You pick one up at random, your breath catching as you recognize the date, seven years ago.

Slowly, carefully, you unfold the letter.

Y/N,

I don’t know why I keep writing these. You never answer. I don’t even know if you’re reading them. But I guess it doesn’t matter. I still need to say these things, even if they never reach you.

It’s late here. The kind of late where everything feels too big, and I can’t sleep, I never can anymore anyway. The only thing keeping me sane is remembering home and thinking about you.

Remember that summer when we were sixteen? The one where we spent half of July sneaking into the lake after dark? You always said the water looked like liquid silver under the moonlight. I don’t think I ever told you this, but I remember the way you looked then. I mean, really looked. The way your eyes caught the light, the way your laugh echoed across the water. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a sound as good as that laugh. I remember feeling so overwhelmed in that moment, so scared of the things I was feeling that I decided to pretend something grabbed my foot.

I also remember the way you shivered when the wind picked up, but you wouldn’t admit you were cold. You were stubborn like that. Still are, probably. I wrapped my jacket around your shoulders, and you gave me that look, you know the one. The one where you’re about to say something sarcastic but then change your mind.

I wanted to kiss you that night. Did you know that?

Of course you didn’t. I never told you. I was always too scared to ruin what we had. But I think about that night a lot. About if things would have changed if I had just kissed you.

It’s been so long since I’ve heard your laugh. I don’t even know if I remember the sound anymore. I do remember it was my favourite sound in the world.

Yours, Always

Bucky

[chaysreality222]

✩₊˚.⋆

୭ৎ 𝓘 𝐒𝐇𝓘𝐅𝓣𝐄𝓓 𝓣𝐎 𝐌𝓨 𝐀𝓛𝐓𝓔𝐑𝐍𝓐𝐓𝐄 𝐑𝓔𝐀𝓛𝐈𝐓𝓨 𝓓𝐑 ୭ৎ

hii guys! :ଓ ˖˚⊹ i'm still not quite sure what to call this reality, so don't mind the title of this! this was a bit of a rushed post since i'm super busy atm but i needed to share asap.

so a little backstory! i've had the idea of shifting to an alternate reality where its almost an exact version of my current reality but with a few differences so that i can tell the realities apart. in this reality, there's supposed to be a car crash that happens in a storm or a vehicle carrying a "top-secret weapon" (aka form of the reality stone) and i some how survive but absorb the power of this "top-secret weapon". therefore, becoming a being with powers.

disclaimer: this isn't a marvel based dr! i just wanted to shift to reality where i have or obtain superpowers/magic. more specifically, Wanda's powers because she's one of my favorites.

i think about this dr every night before i go to sleep or every time i take a nap! basically scripting out in my head what i want to happen and so forth. i haven't made a physical script, but i will make one soon for sure. that's just a brief summary of what this reality was. i also want this to be a separate post for this dr to really get into the script and lore behind it <3

anyway, getting into how i shifted! there isn't really any how to be quite honest with you. i didn't feel any shifting symptoms or anything of that matter. it was just the simplicity of falling asleep and waking up again. i didn't even know i had woken up in a different reality! i had just gotten up like every school morning to get ready and it was only till i saw small things were different.

i got up from bed and went to turn my lamp on but it had been unplugged. first sign! i usually will unplug my lamp to plug a charger in but i knew for certain that in my current reality i had left my lamp plugged. second sign! i was getting nervous because i'm scared of the dark, so i reached to turn on my lights at my desk and those weren't working either. third sign! i went to turn on the big light and that wasn't working either.

i was really confused and paranoid at the same time. why wasn't any of my lights working? and what am i going to use as an alternative because i'm scared of the dark guys? so, i got my phone and turned my flashlight on to face it at the ceiling so it can illuminate some light in the room.

now that i was less afraid, i was really starting to wonder. i looked back at my desk again and saw that the mess on it was different. same items, different placement. this is when i started to really question, did i shift? am i actually in an alternate reality right now? so, i went to go check outside the window. same neighborhood, same layout of the driveway, but different cars. that about confirmed it for me!

then, i noticed the weather looked weird like a storm was coming. that's when the power being out actually started to make sense. this is when an unknown panic and fear set in. since i knew what was gonna happen if i had stayed there any longer, it started to scare me a little bit.

my exact thoughts being: "i'm not ready to be in a car accident today!", "i have a long day at school in my cr! i can't be here right now. i mean i could, but i don't know the time ratio from this dr to my cr. i can't spend too much time here because i don't know how much time is passing there", "i haven't even truly scripted this place out yet, i want to fix some things".

this is also when i had looked up and noticed two ceiling lights... that did it for me. this dr truly needs to be scripted. i needed to get out of there immediately! so, i sat down on the floor at the edge of my bed and placed my hands over my eyes. (guys, i was full on being dramatic for no reason. you do not need to do this to get back to your cr). i repeated the intention in my head to send me back to my cr and was back in my cr! but i fell back asleep because i was sooo tired! i felt so fatigued almost.

it was so unexpected but i'm excited to experience this dr! be on the look out for my script :) and dw guys, i will be scripting that my fear of the dark isn't paralyzing </3 also just noticing, that i may have created a new method?? maybe? i'm not sure! there has to be a method already like this. i didn't do anything special, just fantasized and maladaptive daydreamed my way there.

xoxo, c!

[flythesail]

MY DAD ONCE TOLD ME IT'S POSSIBLE TO LIVE A GOOD LIFE, EVEN WITHOUT A SOULMATE. HE WAS HALF RIGHT. IT IS. BUT NOW I KNOW THAT WE CHOOSE SOULMATES OURSELVES. FATE LEAVES THAT UP TO US. AND LIKE HE ALSO SAID, MAYBE YOU GET MORE THAN ONE. I KNOW THAT I HAVE. I GOT FOUR.

[housederiva]

Your art is FANTASTIC and the random observations/polls/interjections you make have really helped to fuel the DA fandom in positive ways! Which it definitely needed after Veilguard's release, lmao. It's always a pleasure to see you on my dashboard!

That's very kind of you to say oh my gosh thank you so much. I'm just bumbling around and every once in a while I say something people think is worth sharing, and I like sharing what other folks feel/make too! I'm glad I'm a not too much of an annoyance xx

I think my favorite thing about having this blog is the notes I see on other peoples posts I rb, it’s nice seeing all sweet things get things sent an artist way or conversations/theories carried on in a rb chain

It’s a big ol show n tell and it’s a wonderful reprieve from my normal day to be able to see other folks stuff too ✨

[punk-sharkz-zero]

i hope every person who makes fun of food allergies has a warm pillow on both sides and has wet socks forever and ever. I hope they have a paper cut and then get lemon juice on it.

[selfinflictedgunshotwound]

my various mental issues make liking people so hard because i already put people on a pedestal to begin with if i genuinely like them so i am automatically laying myself at their feet like a dog but then i wrestle with the ego death of seeing that they're just a human being who is capable of being wrong and stupid and annoying me and it kind of makes me sick to my stomach not because i expect people to be perfect but because i know if i had like 5 minutes to sit down and talk to this person i would feel more secure in knowing where they stand on any given thing. but you aren't granted that when you just like some random guy who will never know you because you can't take the feeling of someone who could actually know you. or whatever.

[al-mayriti]

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[normalcannibalism]

i feel weird and self conscious about my art again. sigh

the entire post ended up in thw tags ohb my god

[scallisaac]

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[ipcearn]

There is something funny about me starting my first run through of Elden Ring right before the DLC got announced