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[thomasassociates77]

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[mrs-elsie-barnes]

5 Times You Are Not Dating Bucky Barnes (and the one time you are) | Bucky Barnes x Reader | One shot - 2.6k words |

You're sick of saying it, Bucky is not your boyfriend, you are not dating you're just friends. Until...

Warnings: 18+ for some canon typical violence and for Sam and Joaquin being pains in the arse (affectionate). Friends to lovers vibes, idiots in love, dating but not dating.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics & @saradika-graphics

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

1

Bucky Barnes is not your boyfriend.

At least once a day these words come out of your mouth in some form and it's becoming so frequent now that you're considering just recording yourself and playing it back on your phone.

Colleagues, partners in the field, friends.

Not a couple.

Not dating.

"Did you hear that, Wilson? She said —"

"Yeah, yeah, sure."

Sam rolled his eyes at Bucky, sighing dramatically in a way that only Sam is really allowed to get away with. Bucky hadn't taken his eyes from your laptop screen or the secure file you were scrolling through.

"Look awful close though."

You looked up this time, the top of your head brushing Bucky's cheek, his breath was warm against your own and the contrast between his exhale and the cold glass of the table gave you goosebumps.

"We're reviewing the data Joaquin sent us, what do you want us to do?" You snapped, scrolling to the next page of mind numbingly boring KPIs and MIs. Just your luck to get the management files and nothing juicy.

"Perhaps you could use the projector?" Sam clicked a button on the table and the details on your screen lit up the plain, white wall of the conference room.

Embarrassed heat flared up your spine and you shivered.

"Not very secure though, is it, Captain?" Bucky picked up the remote and switched the projector off, his eyes on the laptop screen.

The plastic of your chair squeaked as he tightened his hold on it, and the door slammed shut behind Sam.

2

You followed your nose from the cool darkness of the operations room to the open living area. Tedious as it was to be stationed in the middle of nowhere for recon, you couldn't fault the accommodation, it was almost like being on holiday, apart from the gruelling shifts staring at monitors every day.

Somewhere further along the corridor the sound of good-natured arguing grew louder, Bucky's voice rising above the others and warning them not to disturb you. There was a brief pause before you heard Sam and Joaquin start laughing and Bucky's heavy sigh.

"Morning," you gave a small sleepy smile to the assembled team. Joaquin smiled back, raising his coffee cup in greeting. Sam grinned and you knew instantly that there was something going on. "What now?" You sighed, sending both men in to fits of laughter.

Bucky handed you a cup of tea and bowl of yogurt and granola, a handful of blueberries and raspberries on top.

"Thanks, I'm starving." You bumped his hip as you wandered past to join your teammates at the kitchen island and earned yourself a rare smile.

"What've you got there?" Sam asked, peering into your bowl.

"Usual," you mumbled, sipping your tea. Perfect.

"Uh huh, the usual." He looked up at Bucky, whose face was slowly turning the same colour as the raspberries.

"Can I have some yoghurt, Bucky?" Joaquin asked, innocently.

"Nope." Bucky said, watching you take the first bite and allowing the corner of his mouth to turn up in a smile when yours did.

"Oh, did we run out?"

"Nope."

Bucky put the almost full pot back into the fridge, fixed his coffee and sat down too, shuffling his stool a little closer to you. His hair was still a little damp and you could smell the familiar scent of his shampoo, his bare arm bumping against yours as he took a sip of coffee.

Sam and Joaquin emptied out the last of their coffees into the sink and slunk away, whispering and laughing conspiratorially about "special treatment for girlfriends."

Bucky was, as usual, ignoring them and flipping through a week old newspaper and sipping his coffee. He caught you watching and gave you a mock glare, nothing like the hard stare he'd given Sam and Joaquín earlier.

Then he turned the pages slightly so you could see and you let your head rest on his shoulder, still sipping your tea.

3

"I'm sorry, okay, please stop giving me the cold shoulder." Sam followed after you as you picked your way back to the jet, trying to catch up so you could walk together.

"Absolutely not, I want to be angry for at least two more hours." You grouched, squeezing water from your tactical gear.

"C'mon, it's a little funny," Joaquin laughed, taking up space on your other side.

"Fuck off, Torres, if you had fish swimming in your tac suit you'd be mad too. "

Bucky met you at the cargo door, towel in hand and glaring at your team mates.

"Hell happened to you lot? And why are there fish in your suit?" He scanned you all quickly for serious damage, but it was just your ego that was bruised really.

"Someone, told me it was totally safe to cross this rickety fucking bridge back there," you scowled again.

It really wasn't Sam's fault, it looked perfectly safe or you wouldn't have started to cross, but it was clearly rigged to fall and that's exactly what you'd done, straight into the stagnant water below.

In their gear Sam and Joaquin had been fine. You, on the other hand, had been soaked from head to toe.

"Let's get you in something clean and dry," Bucky gently ushered you into the cool darkness of the jet, soothing your embarrassment with his own stories and wiping mud from the back of your neck as if it was an everyday occurrence.

"I don't think there's anything left in my locker after we got caught in that storm a few weeks back." Embarrassment made your skin itchy and your blood cold. You had spare underwear, maybe, at best.

"Don't worry," Bucky put his back to the door of the small bathroom while you stripped off your dirty clothes inside, "I've got something."

When you reappeared fifteen minutes later, cleaner, dryer, it was in a pair of Bucky's spare sweat pants and the black t-shirt he'd been wearing.

Joaquin raised his eyes but made the decision not to comment and incur your wrath any further.

Sam, on the other hand, chose to tease Bucky instead, their arguing bouncing around the jet while you tried to get comfy on the thin flight seats.

"Got your territory all marked then, Barnes?" He laughed, eyes darting between the two of you.

"Don't know what you're on about, Wilson." Bucky snapped back.

"She's in your clothes, couldn't find any spares? Nothing of mine of Joaquin's back there? You're getting more possessive." Sam shot you a look, "you need to tell him to fuck off."

"I'm good, Sam, thanks for your concern."

"Ahh so you are —"

"We're not dating!" You shouted in unison.

Which only made Sam and Joaquín laugh harder.

It was okay though, you were safe again now and, snuggling deeper into the body warmth of Bucky's t-shirt and definitely a lot less angry than you had been, you really felt safe too. How could you feel any other kind of way, when you could smell his body wash, when he had dried your face so carefully and helped you into your clean clothes.

He looked over at you, eyes still checking for injuries.

"You okay over there? Warm enough?" You nodded and he nodded back, smiling.

4

Joaquin woke with a jolt when the plane hit turbulence, there was a crick in his neck and a sore muscle in his back screaming for a soft bed and his favourite pillow. But no such luck, just an army evac in the dead of night.

Beside him Sam had spread out a blanket and his jacket on the floor, using his rucksack as a pillow and snoring soundly. He could always sleep anywhere, you all could, especially after the day you'd had.

Bucky had taken up a spot sat on the floor like Sam, but with his back to the thin benches, his pack holding up his head. In the gloom he could see Bucky's left arm rigidly holding his body up, elbow locked, because on the right you were leaning into him. His arm was around your shoulders and you'd curled your body into his, pressing into his side, face tucked into his neck and hand under his shirt.

The plane rattled again and Bucky blinked one eye open, his body still as he scanned around quickly before locking eyes with Joaquin.

"You two comfy?" Joaquin whispered and Bucky scowled back. He'd expected Bucky to push you away, but instead he tugged you closer.

Joaquin made a tiny heart shape with his fingers and then mimed kissing.

Bucky flicked up his middle finger and then closed his eyes.

5

"So, Playboy, got any plans tonight," Sam asked, scuffing Joaquin on the back of the head while you pulled your bag out of the gym lockers.

It'd been a long day and you couldn't wait to order a ridiculous amount of food, put your pyjamas on and forget the world existed.

"You know me, Sam. Keepin' my options open." The younger man grinned back.

"Lotta fingers in a lotta pies, have you Torres?" You snickered.

Bucky shut his locker with a slam. "Don't be crude," he grouched, but you saw the way he smiled when he rolled his eyes.

"Something like that," Joaquin shrugged.

"What about you man, hot date?" Joaquin asked,

"Nah," Sam turned away and Joaquin finished towelling his wet hair and started digging his clothes from his bag before wandering off for some privacy.

You slid your trainers back on, tucking your boots in your locker and wondering why they were both suddenly so interested in each other's dating life.

"Not even Leila," you needled, breaking the silence and poking him in the side.

"What's it got to do with you anyway? You seeing anyone tonight?"

"Nope, just me and some Chinese takeout tonight, maybe a little flirt with Netflix," Sam gave you a slightly sad look, but what did you care, it wasn't the only Friday night that would ever happen and you were exhausted.

"I was going to get noodles, do you want to come back to mine, we can split an order?" Bucky asked, fishing his keys from his gym bag and nodding his head towards the door.

"Ohh yes as long as we can get dumplings."

"Obviously we're getting dumplings."

"And maybe fried rice?"

"Rice and noodles?"

"You get one, I'll get the other, we'll split it."

"Fine."

"Shall I follow you —"

"Leave your car by the hanger, I'll drive you back in tomorrow."

"Perfect, let's grab a bottle of wine from the store on the way back."

Bucky groaned, holding the door open for you, "how many times have I said, the only acceptable drink with Chinese takeout is Tsingtao."

The door shut as Joaquin rounded the lockers again, a confused look on his face."Do they know it's Valentines Day?"

Sam laughed, "I don't think so but I can't wait to see their faces tomorrow when they figure it out."

+1

"I've got him, Bucky, you watch the trucks?" You put your sight back to your eye, shuffling your shoulders, settling lower into the ground, you breathed deeply as you prepared to take the shot.

"You'll give away your position, you're too close, fall back." Bucky's voice was surprisingly frantic in your ear.

"Quiet, please. I can do this."

"Leave her, Buck, she's got this."

"Cap's right, gotta have a little faith."

"It's too risky —"

You turned your comm off. You'd been watching this gang for weeks hoping to catch them in the act and you had the perfect chance.

Sam and Joaquin had been leading your infiltration of their den and everything had been going swimmingly — until their leader had walked out and thrown everything into chaos.

You caught the kickback from your rifle with practised ease, your aim perfect, the apparent leader of the group crumpled to the ground, bleeding from his now shattered kneecap. Nothing fatal, you wanted to see him on the stand as did the rest of the team.

You touched your ear piece again ready to gloat about your excellent hit but Bucky's panicked voice found you instead.

"Run, I'm coming but you've gotta run, go —go! Why aren't you going!"

You turned, surrounded by three armed guards, and did the only thing you could do. Fight back.

This wasn't the best time for close quarters combat, but you needed time to reach your handgun or your dagger or something.

Dodging around you gained enough time to slip a knife from your thigh holster.

"I've got it, Buck. Go to Sam."

"No you fucking haven't."

Your arm moved, swiping at your first assailant and leaving a splatter of blood behind. Still low you lurched for the second man's legs, jabbing upwards as he bent down to you. The blade pierced the top of his thigh and blood gushed out as you twisted your wrist and tugged.

"Don't kill anyone." Sam admonished.

But you were too focused to care. The third guard was huge, broad and carrying a knife to match. But it was the gun pointed at your temple that had your heart pounding.

"Put the gun down little lady, we don't want any more messes for you to clean up." The man leered forward, pressing the hot muzzle of the gun into your skin.

"Fuck off." You spat back.

He bent closer, sliding his dagger back into its holster, giving him a free hand to pinch your cheeks. "Such a dirty mouth, what will I do with you."

"She said, fuck off."

The man looked blank, turning his head to find Bucky towering over him gun pressed to his back.

"You okay?" He asked, glancing at you quickly.

"Fine."

"You're a lucky bastard today." Bucky pulled the trigger and you closed your eyes against the spray.

The man shouted, clutching at his shoulder where blood was pouring between his fingers, the wound wider at the front.

"How's that lucky, Bucky?" You chastised, brushing leaves and dirt from your tactical suit and grabbing your rifle.

"If you were hurt, I'd have shot him in the head." He answered, simply, and you felt yourself go hot all over at the thought of what he'd do for you.

Sam and Joaquin landed behind you and rushed forwards.

"We heard more shots, is everyone okay? — What the hell guys I said minimal damage." Sam groaned.

"Would've been easier if someone—" Bucky looked at you, "had left their comms on and run when I'd said."

You rolled your eyes, "I was fine, look." All three patrol guards lay bleeding on the ground.

"That guy had a gun to your head, you were not fine."

"I had him on the ropes." You smiled, but it wavered, you had been scared and your heart had been racing seeing Bucky sneak up on him. "Plus, I've got my knight in shining armour to shoot people for me." You grinned up at Bucky, blood painted on your uniforms and across your cheeks.

"Good thing too." Bucky threaded his fingers through your chest holster and tugged you forwards, pressing a deep kiss to your lips. You hummed happily and leant into him before he set you back down

"If you're done, Sam, can we go back to the jet? I've got bad guy blood all over me, yuck." You made a face and wiped your cheek with the back of your hand before strolling off with Bucky, rifles over your shoulders.

"Did they just—" Joaquin looked over at Sam.

"Yeah —"

"How long?"

"No idea."

As you rounded the corner Bucky took your hand again, tugging you closer and pressing a kiss to your head where the imprint of the gun still lingered.

"Does this finally mean I'm your boyfriend?"

"Because you shot someone for me?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah, sure." You smiled, resting your cheek on his shoulder.

[coffeeastronaut]

if i ever stop being offputtingly aggressive about getting people to join my plex call someone because it means im probably dead

[p0orbaby]

if you’re still doing blurbs could you do one with alexia where she’s dating a doctor who has a very busy schedule, and alexia has a concussion in the training and gors to the hospital, and alexia sends a message to reader telling about it but r doesn’t see and when shes going to take care of the next patient it’s alexia? lmao or maybe alexia and r have a daughter and her daughter gets injured and shes the next patient and r goes feral about it idk

i changed the injury but i hope you still like it !

-

The shift is hell, as usual. You’re striding through corridors, flicking through paperwork and half-listening to one of the interns ramble about a patient they’re struggling to diagnose. Something about abdominal pain and “maybe a foreign object ingestion?” You nod distractedly, mentally filing it under deal with later.

“Just send them for imaging,” you say, not breaking your stride. “And next time, don’t say ‘foreign object’ like you’re narrating a true crime documentary. It’s unsettling”

The intern stammers out a response, but you’re already waving them off. “You’ll be fine. Go. Be great or something.” Another day, another long list of problems, it seems. You let yourself drift into autopilot, the professional rhythm of your job taking over as you stride towards the cubicle and pull back the curtain.

“Hi, I’m Dr Putellas,” you begin, still not looking up. “What seems to be—”

“¿Estás bromeando?”

You freeze. Your grip on the clipboard tightens, and your heart drops into your stomach because that voice, that exasperated, honey-warm, decidedly unimpressed voice, belongs to your wife.

Your injured wife, apparently.

“Alexia?” you blurt, snapping your head up to find her sitting on the exam table, her left leg stretched out in front of her, an ice pack balanced precariously on her knee.

She doesn’t look happy.

“Hola, cariño,” she says, dry as dust. “Fancy seeing you here”

For a moment, all you can do is stare, caught between disbelief and irritation. “What—what happened? Why didn’t you call me?”

“I did call you,” she replies, gesturing to her phone sitting next to her on the table. “Several times. Apparently, you’re very busy and important”

Your stomach twists with guilt as you instinctively check your phone. Sure enough, three missed calls from Alexia. You curse under your breath, shoving it back into your pocket and stepping closer.

“Are you okay?” you ask, switching instantly from doctor mode to wife mode. “What happened? Is it bad? Why didn’t someone—”

“Relax, doctor,” Alexia interrupts, lifting her free hand to stop your avalanche of questions. “It’s not that bad. Just a tackle gone wrong at training”

You glance at the ice pack, then at her knee, which looks swollen but not grotesque. “Define ‘not that bad.’ Can you move it?”

Alexia sighs like you’re overreacting and flexes her leg a little, wincing but managing. “See? It’s fine. Probably just a sprain”

“Sprains don’t feel fine,” you mutter, already pulling on gloves and grabbing your supplies. You kneel down, gently pressing around her knee, watching her face for any reaction.

“Your hands are cold,” she says, the corner of her mouth twitching like she’s trying not to smile.

“Your knee is swollen,” you counter.

“Touché”

You’re quiet for a moment, focused on the task. The swelling isn’t as bad as you feared, but it’s enough to set off every alarm in your mind. You sit back on your heels, exhaling slowly.

“You need imaging,” you say firmly. “Just to be safe”

“Of course I do,” she replies, her tone light but her eyes softening. “Because I’m married to the most thorough doctor in this hospital”

“Don’t flirt with me right now,” you say, though your lips twitch in a betrayed smile. “You scared me”

Her expression softens further, and she reaches out, brushing her fingers against your cheek. “Lo siento, mi amor. I didn’t mean to”

You close your eyes briefly, leaning into her touch. Then, with a deep breath, you stand up, trying to refocus.

“Alright,” you say briskly, grabbing the chart again. “Let’s get you x-rayed and figure out what’s going on. And after that, you’re resting. No arguing.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Alexia says, her smile turning mischievous. “But I might need some help resting”

You narrow your eyes at her. “Careful, Putellas. I can still make you wait for a nurse”

“Please.” She gestures around dramatically. “You’d never leave me at the mercy of hospital food”

“Not unless you keep up that attitude,” you mutter, but your heart is already lighter.

You press a quick kiss to her temple before heading for the door. “I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere”

“Where would I go?” she calls after you, gesturing to her knee.

[bellamyarcade]

C/W: implied (?) smut, bits of fluff, no use of y/n

WORD COUNT: 0.3k

NOTES: nothing to see here, just me getting back on my Marvel bullshit ^^ also, I adore this man all the way to the moon and back.

SEE THE “IMPLICATIONS” COLLECTION

RAVISH — Joaquín Torres x fem!Reader

One hand is clutched tight around the edge of the table, the other grasping onto his for dear life. Your back arches off the surface, whatever little breath leaving your lungs in a sharp gasp. A pleased sound reaches your ears, slightly muffled. 

You close your eyes as if it will somehow ground you, but it only makes everything so much more intense. His name falls from your lips in a whisper—oh god, Joaquín!—and he squeezes your hand in reassurance, his other hand warm and firm on your right thigh. 

Salacious sounds bounce off the apartment walls, and it pulls another moan from the back of your throat. 

The kitchen is a mess. The files you’d been working on and all your precious notebooks have been swept off the table, strewn all over the floor. Your favourite pen in a very specific shade of blue ink slid under the couch somewhere, and you were definitely going to make him reach under there later to retrieve it because you certainly weren’t. 

“Hey—!” You barely had the chance to gasp, because before you knew it he was grabbing you by the waist and hoisting you up onto the dining table. 

“Ah ah,” he chided, stepping between your legs and giving you that lopsided smile that was so hard to resist, “it’s time to take a break, cariño.” 

And then he sank to his knees. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

Within seconds Joaquín had you laying on your back, all spread out like his own personal feast. Minutes later, his mouth working its magic, you don’t even remember why you were supposed to be mad. 

More muffled sounds come from down below, and only when he stops, lips and tongue retreating from your sensitive bundle of nerves, do you realize he’s asked you something. 

“Huh…?” You manage, eyes glassy and chest heaving when you peer down at him. Joaquín rubs your thigh soothingly, his dark curls dishevelled and messy from you repeatedly running your hand through them. You do it again, full of affection this time. 

“I asked, mi amor,” he chuckles, teasing and a little breathless, “do you want my fingers too?”

[patrycarro]

TS3 - Plaza de las Flores (No CC)

ENG:

Do you need organic products to prepare your favorite recipes? Are you looking to eat healthier but don’t know where to find 100% natural and wholesome ingredients? Would you like to sell your harvests on your own terms? Or maybe you’re just searching for a peaceful spot to enjoy a cup of coffee or a snack with your family? If you answered yes to any of these questions, Plaza de las Flores is the place for you.

Like many Simmers, I love playing with my Sims in the countryside: planting, harvesting, taking care of animals, and cooking delicious homemade recipes. I’ve always felt the game was missing a marketplace where Sims could sell their hard-earned produce, relax, and enjoy a good meal. So, I decided to create one myself.

I hope all gardening enthusiasts love the result as much as I do! I wanted it to match the rustic charm of Appaloosa Plains and its warm, countryside atmosphere, and I think I managed to achieve just that.

Features:

Lot type: Community, small park

Lot size: 40x30

Location: Appaloosa Plains

Furnished lot value: 83.143 §

Unfurnished lot value: 57.484 §

Packs used in this build: EP01, EP05, EP09

Requirements:

Humble Harvest Stands from the store.

Terms and conditions:

DO NOT claim my creations as your own.

If you want to use any of my builds in your custom world or save file, you are allowed to do so, BUT make sure to credit me as the original creator.

DO NOT re-upload my content under any circumstances; share it with your friends using my own links.

If you experience any issues, let me know and I’ll try to fix it as soon as possible.

Download it here. 🤍

SPA:

¿Necesitas productos orgánicos para preparar tus recetas favoritas? ¿Quieres empezar a comer más sano pero no sabes dónde comprar ingredientes saludables y de origen 100% natural? ¿Te gustaría empezar a vender tus cosechas bajo tus propias condiciones? ¿Buscas un lugar tranquilo donde tomarte un simple café o merendar con tu familia? Si has respondido que sí a alguna de estas preguntas, la plaza de las Flores es tu lugar.

Como a muchos otros Simmers, me encanta jugar con mis Sims en el campo: plantar, cosechar, cuidar y alimentar a los animales, preparar deliciosas recetas caseras... Y siempre he echado en falta un mercadillo donde estos pudiesen vender lo que producen en casa con tanto esfuerzo y dedicación, pero en el cual también pudieran pasar el rato y comer algo, por lo que decidí hacer uno yo misma.

Espero que a todos los amantes de la jardinería os guste el resultado tanto como a mí; quería que encajase con el estilo rústico de Appaloosa Plains y su cálido y campestre ambiente y creo que lo he conseguido.

Características:

Tipo de solar: Comunitario, parque pequeño

Tamaño del solar: 40x30

Ubicación: Appaloosa Plains

Valor del solar amueblado: 83.143 §

Valor del solar sin amueblar: 57.484 §

Packs utilizados en esta construcción: EP01, EP05, EP09

Requisitos:

Puestos "La buena cosecha" de la tienda.

Términos y condiciones:

NO proclames mis creaciones como tuyas.

Si quieres usar alguna de mis construcciones en tu mundo personalizado o save file, tienes permitido hacerlo, PERO deja claro que yo soy su creadora original.

NO resubas mi contenido bajo ninguna excepción; compártelo con tus conocidos usando mis propios enlaces.

Si experimentas algún problema, házmelo saber e intentaré solucionarlo lo antes posible.

Descárgala aquí. 🤍

[somepersonyan]

Get Outta Here, Peaches.

Peaches, riiiiiight. Jacob is very sus for this one in particular.

So we all have noticed that weird peaches thing (that seemingly has no explanation). And I thought to myself “what a wonderful…”. No, wait, I thought, “what does Jacob call Pratt in other languages? Does it sound peachy? Is it fruity?”

I have gone over the subtitle files and, lo and behold, will now present to you all the variations that I managed to find. I will split them into three categories as follows:

“Why are you gae?”

“Who said I am gae?”

“Borderline homophobic (towards the original version)”

Let's start!

"Why are you gae?"

Russian

Отойди, красавчик. Step aside, handsome.

Possible variations: Pretty boy Usage: Often used playfully or sarcastically.

Italian

Datti una mossa, bellezza. Get moving, beauty.

Possible variations: Beautiful Usage: An affectionate term, though it can also be sarcastic.

Arabic

عليك الخروج من هنا يا جميل You need to get out of here, handsome.

Possible variations: Beautiful, lovely, fine Usage: An affectionate term, though it can also be sarcastic.

Dutch

Wegwezen, mop. Get lost, honey.

Possible variations: Dear Usage: An affectionate term between friends, though it can also be sarcastic.

French

Dégage de là, mon grand. Get out of here, big guy.

Possible variations: big bro, champ Usage: Literally, "my big one," used as a friendly or affectionate term, especially for a strong or tall person.

Polish

Wynoś się stąd, dziecinko. Get out of here, baby.

Possible variations: Little one, child, kid Usage: Can be affectionate but also condescending, depending on tone.

Note: We went from mon grand to dziecinko really fast there.

"Who said I am gae?"

German

Verschwinde hier, Schwätzer. Get out of here, you chatterbox.

Nothing to add here, really. Germans are on point, as always.

Korean

비켜라, 인마. Get out of the way, dude.

Possible variations: Hey you, buddy Usage: An impolite or blunt way to get someone's attention, often implying annoyance or frustration.

Traditional/Simplified Chinese

給我離開這裡，朋友。 给我离开这里，朋友。 Get out of here, friend.

Possible variations: Partner, pal, fellow Usage: Can be used warmly but might be neutral rather than a direct term of endearment.

"Borderline homophobic"

Spanish

Largo de aquí. Get out of here.

I am sorry, Spanish, are you perhaps missing something?

Portuguese (Brazil)

Sai daqui, anda. Get out of here, come on.

Welp, at least we have the “come on” part.

Czech

Padej odsud. Get out of here.

Possible variations: Scram Usage: An informal and somewhat harsh way of telling someone to leave.

Japanese

お前は下がっていろ  Stay back.

He did, in fact, stay (in the) back. And then he STABBED in the back. MUHAHAHAHA

This concludes my peachy list! If you find any mistakes or have additional comments on potential variations and usage, I would greatly appreciate your input!

And here are some Armenian variations from me:

Գնա / Կորի / Կորի գնա / Գնա կորի / Մի կողմ գնա/ Գնա ստեղից /Շարժվի՛

Transcription: Gna / Kori / Kori gna / Gna kori / Mi koghme gna / Gna steghits / Sharzhvi!

Meanings: Go away / Disappear / Move aside / Get out of here / Move!

Անուշիկ(ս) / Սիրուն(ս) / Բալիկ (ջան) / Ախպեր (ջան) / Տղա (ջան) /Բլբուլ (ջան) / Ջան

Anushik(s): "Sweetie" / "My sweet" (-ս/s makes it possessive ("my sweet")) Sirun(s):"Beautiful" / "My beautiful" Balik jan: "Little one" / "Dear child" ("ջան/jan" adds warmth and affection) Akhper jan: "Brother" / "Bro" (affectionate and common between close male friends) Tgha jan: "Boy" / "Lad" Blbul jan: "Nightingale" (used for someone talkative or charming) Jan: A general term of endearment, meaning "dear" or "soul" (used after names or words to show affection)

Let me know how it sounds in your language as well!

Edit I

Slovak variation (suggested by @pande-monty-um)

Some fun ways of saying "Get out of here/scram"

Zmizni: Dissappear Choď preč: Go away Vypadni: Literal meaning "fall out of here" like a window (lol just a very fast exit) Choď do riti: Literal meaning "go into an ass" Zmizni mi z očé: Dissappear from my sight/eyes

Most common term of endearment:

Zlatko: Gold/Goldie. Similar to sweetie, sweetheart, honey Zlatíčko: An exaggerated "baby talk/sweetheart" addition to zlatko Miláčik: My love/lover Chrobáčik: Little beetle/bug Srdiečko: Heart/my heart The čik suffix is used to obtain the diminutive form.

Alternative "peaches" explanations:

Dig at Staci’s peach fuzz, considering EG is beard country or something related to Peaches the cougar. (@doritofalls)

Peaches the cougar was giving cultists a hard time, and Jacob is implying that Staci is being equally difficult to tame (@leviastan).

As a matter of fact, there might be some connection to Peaches the cougar as “Peaches is the only animal companion that Staci is positive about”. You can see his voice lines and attitude towards animals here.

Our poor boi is scared of dogs and bears T.T

He likes pussies tho it seems ≽^•⩊•^≼

I mean, that's

Staci “You know why I became a cop? To get laid” Pratt

for you, ladies and gentlemen.

[kathlare]

double tap disaster

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Lando Norris spends Christmas Eve with his family, but his mind keeps drifting to Amelie. When he accidentally likes a beach photo of hers on Instagram, a seemingly harmless mistake spirals into a panic as he scrambles to undo it before anyone notices.

Wordcount: 1.2 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

December 24th, 2021 - London, United Kingdom

liked by kit.connor, landonorris, and others

ameliedayman: back home for christmas 🎄✨ turns out the beach is still hot, the food is still elite, and i’m still the family favorite 😌

View all 5,482 comments

charles_leclerc: You forgot to mention the ocean is boiling now too. → ameliedayman: @charles_leclerc don’t be shy, just say you miss me 😌

madisonbeer: i’m convinced you were sculpted by the gods. unfair. → ameliedayman: @madisonbeer tell them to give me a tan that lasts longer then 🙄

jackdayman: Mum said stop posting thirst traps, it’s embarrassing. → ameliedayman: @jackdayman mum also said you’re not funny, but here we are 🤷‍♀️

lanation44: THE WAY SHE JUST CASUALLY DROPPED THIS BOMB ON US??? MA’AM, WE CAN’T BREATHE.

mxmexican: i’m filing a complaint bc how is it legal to be this hot?? → sunsetmelie: @mxmexican respectfully, i’m on my knees.

elysiadayman: wow, can’t believe i’m related to this. → ameliedayman: @elysiadayman u mean perfection? yeah, crazy.

lilacvibes: my toxic trait is thinking i could pull amelie.

mickschumacher: Not even the sun is shining that bright ☀️ → ameliedayman: @mickschumacher poet era??? omg

lovingamelie: my wife. my queen. my reason for living.

-------------

Lando stretched out on the couch, legs crossed at the ankles, absentmindedly watching Home Alone while his family chattered around him. His mum had insisted on putting on a "Christmas classic," but honestly, he wasn’t paying much attention. His phone was in his hand, screen dimly lit, thumb mindlessly scrolling through Instagram.

It had been a long day—Christmas Eve at home always was. His mum buzzing around, making sure everything was perfect, his younger siblings running around in excitement, and his dad attempting to keep some level of order. It was warm, familiar, and exactly what he needed. But despite the comfort of being home, his mind kept drifting elsewhere.

To her.

It was stupid. He knew that. It had been months—more than half a year, actually—since they last spoke, and even longer since things between them were good. Lando found himself on Amelie’s Instagram.

She had posted earlier today.

A beach photo.

Lando's fingers hovered over the screen as he took it in.

She was sitting on the sand, legs stretched out in front of her, skin sun-kissed and glowing under the golden Mexican sun. Her pink bikini stood out against the warm tones of the beach, the fabric hugging her body in a way that made his stomach tighten. Her hair was styled in two neat braids, and she had that effortless, relaxed look about her—one he had seen a hundred times before but still managed to make his chest ache.

She looked happy. Peaceful. Untouchable.

And he hated that it still got to him.

Lando bit the inside of his cheek, hesitating before tapping the comments. They were flooded with heart emojis, compliments, and a fair share of thirsty replies—some in Spanish, some in English. He skimmed through them, jaw tightening at a few particularly bold ones.

Right. Because that’s what he needed to be doing on Christmas Eve—getting pissed over some random guy calling her “mi amor” in the comments.

He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head at himself. He should exit out, close Instagram, and focus on the movie.

But he didn’t.

Instead, his thumb absentmindedly hovered over the screen, and before he could even process what he was doing...

Double tap.

The little heart turned red.

Lando froze.

For a second, he stared at the screen, waiting, hoping that maybe—maybe—he imagined it. But no, his name was there, clear as day.

Lando Norris liked this post.

—Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.—

Panic slammed into his chest. His body moved before his brain fully caught up, bolting upright so fast that he nearly knocked over the bowl of popcorn on the table. His mum shot him a questioning glance, but he barely registered it.

He needed to undo it. Now.

Fumbling with his phone, he bolted out of the living room, ignoring his dad’s confused “What’s going on with you?” as he took the stairs two at a time.

—No, no, no, no, no. Fucking hell, you absolute idiot.—

Reaching his bedroom, he slammed the door shut behind him and leaned against it, heart pounding. His fingers scrambled over the screen as he reopened Instagram, tapping on the post.

The like was still there.

—Delete. DELETE.—

Just as his thumb hovered over the heart, his phone screen went black.

Lando blinked.

No. No fucking way.

He pressed the power button. Nothing.

—No, no, no, no, no, NO.—

His phone was dead.

—You have got to be shitting me.—

He threw his head back against the door, staring at the ceiling in sheer panic. He needed a charger. Now. He needed to undo the like before anyone saw it, before Twitter got a hold of it, before someone took a goddamn screenshot.

—Fucking hell.—

Lando tore through his room like a madman, pulling open drawers, yanking blankets off his bed, rummaging through his duffel bag. Where the fuck was his charger? He always kept one in his nightstand—except, of course, when he actually needed it.

—Think, Lando, THINK.—

He rushed to his desk, throwing papers and random cables aside, but his charger was nowhere to be found. His breathing was quick, panicked, hands trembling as he ran a frustrated hand through his curls.

—Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.—

He darted back out into the hallway, nearly colliding with his younger sister.

—Lando!— Flo huffed, clutching onto the railing. —What are you doing?—

—No time,— he mumbled, brushing past her and sprinting downstairs. His mum called something after him, but he wasn’t listening. His brain was on autopilot.

Charger. Find a charger.

He darted into the kitchen, yanking open drawers. Nothing. Living room? He scanned the area, but his siblings were sprawled across the couch, tangled in blankets. He didn’t have time to dig through their mess.

—Think, think, THINK.—

The guest room. His cousins were staying over, and they always left their shit everywhere. Without hesitation, he rushed down the hall and flung the door open. Sure enough, there it was—an iPhone charger plugged into the wall, abandoned.

—Thank fuck.—

He lunged for it, nearly tripping over a suitcase in the process, before bolting back to his room and slamming the door shut behind him.

His hands were shaking as he plugged his phone in, eyes locked onto the screen, silently begging it to turn on faster.

—Come on, come on, COME ON.—

The Apple logo appeared. Lando swore he had never been so relieved to see it.

His knee bounced impatiently as he waited, fingers drumming against his leg. The second his lock screen appeared, he unlocked it, rushing back to Instagram.

He tapped onto Amelie’s profile, her post still staring him right in the face. His heart was racing as he pressed the heart again, removing the like.

For a second, he let out a breath, relief washing over him.

And then...

Lando Norris likes Amelie Dayman’s post.

Trending.

Lando felt the blood drain from his face.

—Oh, for fuck’s sake.—

Twitter had exploded. Screenshots. Reactions. Theories.

—NO NO NO NO NO NO.—

His fingers gripped his hair as he scrolled through the tweets. Some people were freaking out, some were making jokes, and others were just straight-up confused.

Lando groaned, collapsing onto his bed.

He was so fucking stupid.

He had spent months pretending she didn’t exist. Acting like they were nothing. And now, he had practically announced to the world that he was still checking her Instagram.

Lando shut his eyes. He was never going to hear the end of this.

[your-local-simp-writers]

Unexpected

Word Count: 406

Warnings: None

Soap x Fem! Hispanic! Wife! Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The engines of the C-130 Hercules cut through the silence of the airstrip, heralding the return of Task Force 141 from a grueling mission. Among the crowd, a lone figure stood out—Y/N, Soap’s wife, her vibrant presence a stark contrast to the military precision around her.

As the soldiers filed out, the air was thick with anticipation. María’s heart pounded in her chest, her eyes eagerly searching for Soap. When he finally emerged, her joy was uncontainable. She dashed towards him, her laughter echoing across the tarmac. “¡Mi amor, te extrañé tanto!” she exclaimed, leaping into his arms.

The members of TF-141 halted in their tracks, their battle-hardened facades crumbling in disbelief. Ghost’s eyebrow arched behind his mask, Roach’s mouth agape, and even Price’s eyes softened, a rare occurrence. They had faced countless dangers together, but this was uncharted territory. They exchanged glances, each silently asking the same question: “Soap’s married?”

“So, lads,” Soap began, his voice betraying a hint of bashfulness, “this is the better half I’ve been keeping secret. Y/N, these are the brothers I’ve told you so much about.”

María beamed, her energy infectious as she greeted each member with a warm embrace and a flurry of Spanish. “¡Hola! Soy Y/N’s, es un honor finalmente conocer a los amigos de mi esposo,” she said, her words flowing like a melody.

The men of TF-141, known for their stoicism, found themselves at a loss, charmed by her vivacious spirit. Ghost, usually a man of few words, found himself engaging in a playful banter, while Roach couldn’t help but chuckle at Soap’s evident pride.

Ghost’s usual reticence gave way to a rare chuckle. “Never thought Soap would manage to keep a secret this delightful,” he remarked.

Price, ever the leader, stepped forward. “Well, I’ll be,” he said, his voice gruff with a hint of amusement. “Soap, you’ve outdone yourself. She’s quite the gem.”

As the evening unfolded, Y/N’s laughter became the soundtrack of their reunion. She listened intently to their stories, her eyes alight with admiration, and they, in turn, saw a new side of Soap—a man deeply in love, his heart belonging to the spirited woman who had effortlessly woven herself into the fabric of their tight-knit group.

The TF-141 left that night with a new story to tell—not of war, but of the unexpected joy found in a comrade’s hidden life, a reminder of the world worth fighting for.

[loshed]

DNI list!!!!!!!!!!

french

if ur apart of any of these fandoms;

Bocchi The Rock, Sonic/Shadow, Super Sonico, Pac Man, Mario, Lookism, Haikyuu, Blue Lock, Spy x Family, Sally Face, Mystic Messenger, Katamari, Kill la Kill, Garfield, Aggretsuko, Pokemon, MLP, Monsters Inc, Lilo & Stitch, Monster High: 13 Wishes, The Lion King, WALL-E, Monsters vs. Aliens, The Last Unicorn, Rio, Gremlins, The Book of Life, 21 Jump Street, Deadpool, The Little Mermaid, Guardians of the Galaxy, The Super Mario Bros Movie, Don't Look Up, Little Miss Sunshine, A Silent Voice, Pokémon Detective Pikachu, Inside Out (1 + 2), Ice Age, Fear, E.T. Clueless, Despicable Me, Spree, Back Street Girls: Gokudols, Reacher, Breaking Bad, Death Note, Hunter x Hunter, Mob Psycho 100 (I, II, III), The Disastrous Life of Saiki K, Demon Slayer, Beastars, Kotaro Lives Alone, Spy x Family, K-ON, A Series of Unfortunate Events, Maid Sama, Parasyte, Assassination Classroom, Nanbaka, One Punch Man, Haven't You Heard? I'm Sakamoto, The Millionaire Detective – Balance: Unlimited, The Way of the Househusband, Lucky☆Star, Handa-kun, Angels of Death, That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime, Stars Align, Welcome to Demon School! Iruma-kun, Mashle: Magic and Muscles, Bucchigiri, Ouran High School Host Club, Monthly Girls' Nozaki-kun, My Love Story, My Hero Academia, Sword Art Online Alternative: Gun Gale Online, Ahiru no Sora, The Promised Neverland, Blue Lock, Salaryman's Club, Romantic Killer, Buddy Daddies, Angel Beats, Psycho-Pass, Love, Chunibyo & Other Delusions, Prison School, How Not to Summon a Demon Lord, Sarazanmai, High-Rise Invasion, Akiba Maid War, Sword Art Online, Aoashi, Reincarnated as a Sword, How to Win My Husband Over, Roxana, Semantic Error, Shutline, Under the Greenlight, Villainesses Have More Fun, The Guild Member Next Door, From Acting Genius To Top Idol!, My Delicious Dream Boy, The Fallen Duke & the Knight Who Hated Him, Little Mushroom, Duchess's Lo-Fi Coffeehouse, Odd Love Netkama PUNCH, The Player Hides His Past, The Fed Up Office Lady Wants To Serve The Villainess, I'll Save This Damned Family, Nan Hao and Shang Feng The Odd Couple, Master Villainess the Invincible, Park Hanhoo's Manager, 100 Ways to Seduce the Villain, I'll Just Live on as a Villainess, It Was Love at First Sight, Mr. Villain, Saving the Doomed Idols with my Touch, This Villainess Wants a Divorce, An Observation Log of My Fiancée Who Calls Herself a Villainess, Lout of Count's Family, I'm Not Cut Out to Be a Princess, so I'll Elope With the Villainess, How to Survive as a Maid in a Horror Game, Surviving In A Harem, The Villainess' Slow Prison Life Began with Her Broken Engagement, My In-laws are Obsessed With Me, Killer Crush, Not-Sew-Wicked Stepmom, Someone Possessed My Body For 10 Years, The One Within the Villainess, Please Don’t Come To The Villainess’ Stationery Store, 19 Days, Villains Are Destined to Die, The Perks of Being a Villainess, Who Made Me a Princess, Resetting Lady, Cheeky Habits of My Rabbits, Debut or Die, Newsies, Bye Bye Birdie, Christmas Carol, Wonka, Little mermaid, Shrek, Wizard of OZ, Anything goes, Sponge Bob, Beauty and the Beast, Guys and Dolls, Hamilton, Six, The guy who didn’t like musicals, ride the cyclone, Les Mis, The lighting thief, into the woods, Kinda bat boy, Gatsby, Romeo and Juliet, Macbeth, Zac McKraken and the Alien Mindbenders, Twisted Wonderland, Ultimate Shark Simulator, Hogwarts Mystery, KOTOR, Star Wars Assault Team, Minecraft, Jedi Fallen Order, Wild Kratts, Octonauts, TMNT 2012, Odd Squad, Dinosaur Train, Lego Friends, Monster High, Ever After High,Avatar the Last Air Bender, Sofia the first, Elena of Avalore, Overwatch, TF2, Hetalia, JJBA, Punch Out, Keeper of the lost cities, Riordanverse, The inheritance games, Heartless, Gifted clans series, Project hail mary, The martian, The illuminae files, The hunger games, The pandava quintet, Osemanverse, Wings of fire, Amari and the night brothers, The folk of the air, Deathcast, The song of achilles, DSMP, Bungou Stray Dogs, ROTTMNT, Tokyo Revengers,

System of a Down, The Smiths, Mindless Self Indulgence, Radiohead, lamp, Bruno Bars,Rory in Early 20s, Lana Del Rey, Usher, Pitbull, The Weeknd, Michael Jackson, P1Harmony, C418, Serani Poji, Mitski, Zella Day, Deftones, The Cardigans, Serani Poji, Chief Keef, The Neighbourhood, Block B, Mayo, Foo Fighters, The Killers, No Doubt, Coldplay, Allie X, Korn, Duster, The Smashing Pumpkins, FNAF, Danny Gonzalez, Kurtis Connor, Drew Gooden, Agent 00, Yumi, Jacksepticeye, Izzzyzzz, Slmccl, GunnarTV, Danny Motta, DanTDM, Temprist, Kubz Scouts, Berleezy, Flamingo, Good Pizza, Roblox, Shoujo City 2D, Fruit Ninja, Slipknot, Persona, Ace Attorney, Billie Eilish, Melanie Martinez, Beabadoobee, Sabrina Carpenter, Gigi Perez , Caparezza, Hannibal, $uicideboy$, Genshin Impact, Wuthering Waves, Hi3, ZZZero, Honkai Star Rail, Animal Crossing, Phineas and Ferb, Dogman, Detroit become human, Tears over Fears, Loathe, Fleshwater, The cranberries, The Sundays, Bulldog Eyes, Boy Fantasy, YAOI, YURI, BOYS LOVE, GIRLS LOVE, Gravity Falls, Zero Day, GTA, Crane Wives, Salad Fingers, Hidamari Sketch, Squid Game, Jschlatt, Girls Band Cry, Gabba Friends, Lalaloopsy, Life is Strange, Last of us, Diva Starz, Shopkins, Barbie, Vocaloid, PJSK, Pewdiepie, Markiplier, Cry of fear, Dramatical Murder, South Park, After school lessons for unripe apples, Komi Can't Communicate, Yume Nikki, Red Valley, Will Wood, Bo Burnham, IDKHow, Naethan Apollo, Poppy Playtime, Dandy’s World, Resident Evil, Jake Gyllenhaal, Scott Pilgrim (movie, series, and comic), The Sims, Murder Drones, The Amazing Digital Circus, Baldi’s basics, My Singing Monsters

let me know if you can still interact so that i can get RID OF YOU!!

[bestillmyslashyheart]

Happy Ending Redux pt 1/?

on ao3

Everything had gone so wrong, so fast. A week ago there were the barest of rumors of ICE raids sweeping through the area despite Roswell’s distance from the border and yesterday they’d blown through town, arresting Liz, Kyle, and even the former Sheriff along with twelve others. They’d gone after Arturo too but Max had gotten there first. He managed to squirrel the older man away safely but someone had seen him and Max had taken two bullets to the chest for it. 

It was all Isobel and Michael could do to tamp down their powers in their grief and rage. Alex had shuttled them out to Jim Valenti’s old cabin for a brief respite where they wouldn’t have to worry about any neighbors but they hadn’t been careful enough. They must have been laying in wait, lurking on the edges of the town in ICE’s wake, because it had only taken an hour or so after Michael’s outburst that felled a row of trees for them to strike: six Air Force Special Forces soldiers who had apparently been curious after gaining access into the suddenly declassified Project Shepherd files had come to Roswell to see for themselves if they was any truth to them. Proof Michael had so graciously given it to them. Bullets were flying before he even knew they were there. Isobel screamed but she hadn’t done anything yet so they weren’t targeting her; all of their attention was on Michael. He felt one bullet hit him in the gut before Alex knocked him to the ground. He felt two more rack Alex’s body as they fell.

“No!” Michael screamed and the world responded. All six men were flung high and far away from him. He didn’t care enough to look where they landed; it was enough that they weren’t shooting anymore. “Alex!” He rolled Alex over onto his back.

“Michael!” Isobel slammed to her knees on Alex’s opposite side, her hands hovering over his chest like she could do something but it was obvious it was too late. Alex was still, his eyes fixed on the sky. “Oh god.”

“Alex,” Michael sobbed. He pressed a hand to Alex’s chest, hoping and praying that just this once he could revive the dead. Nothing happened. “Nononononono,” he cried. Frustrated that it wasn’t working, Michael balled up his fist and slammed it into Alex’s chest. Instantly, he regretted it, his hand flattening into a soothing motion over his still form. “No, no, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He hunched over Alex’s form and buried himself in Alex’s chest, uncaring that it meant Alex’s blood now covered his face as well as his hands. Alex’s chest didn’t move. 

“Michael,” Isobel placed a hand on Michael’s shoulder. He didn’t react. She shook him slightly, then harder when he still didn’t seem to notice her. 

“Go away,” he spat, not looking away from Alex.

“No,” she grabbed his chin and turned his face up towards her. “Your machine. Does it work?”

Michael furrowed his brow in confusion. His husband was lying dead between them and Isobel wanted to know about a machine? 

She gathered herself with a deep obvious breath. “The machine you were working on a few months ago. The one you said might be capable of time travel.”

Michael gaped at her. “That- that was nothing. Something to waste time on. It didn’t- it couldn’t-” he looked down at Alex. “Even if it did, it’s not done.”

Isobel forced him to face her again. “What do you need?”

“Time,” he laughed harshly. “And, and, I don’t know! It was a hobby, not something real.”

“Alex is dead,” she reminded him harshly. “Max is dead.” Her grip on his chin gentled. “What do you need, Michael?”

“Time,” he repeated. “Even if I could get it to work on the first chance, it would take hours of work and if it did work, it would only go back a few hours at most.” He shook his head. “Max died yesterday, that’s too far.”

Isobel closed her eyes, tears escaping out of the corners, before opening them and staring him dead in the eyes. “It’s not too far for Alex.”

“Iz-”

“Why are you arguing with me?” She suddenly shouted. “Why do I have to convince you to save Alex’s life?!”

Michael just looked at her. “There aren’t enough hours, Izzy.” She looked back at him uncomprehendingly. Slowly, he pressed a hand to his own stomach and winced at the sharp pain, before removing it again and showing it to her, palm up. The fresh, wet blood glistened brightly in the sunlight. “I need time. Time that I don’t have. Time that Alex doesn’t have.”

Isobel stared down at his hand. After a long moment she gathered herself. “Fine. We don’t have time. But you’ve got me. So do what you can and tell me how to do the rest.”

Michael thought about arguing with her again, explaining that he didn’t have the first clue how to finish the machine, that that was why he hadn’t worked on it in months, but Alex and Max were dead and Michael was dying and Isobel needed to do something. “Ok.”

She let out a breath. “Ok?”

Michael jerked his head at the cabin. “It’s in there. Wanted to keep it away from the house, just in case.” She nodded jerkily and rose to her feet, her hands out to help Michael up as well. He ignored them for now, his attention returning to Alex. Mindless of the pain in his stomach, he leaned over and pressed his lips to Alex’s slack lips. “I’ll see you soon.”

—

They staggered inside the cabin, Isobel struggling to hold Michael’s weight. “Where is it?”

“Bedroom.” He nodded his head towards the small hallway. There were two rooms in the cabin, one substantially smaller than the other. When they’d decided to turn the place into Michael’s workshop it was decided that the main bedroom would be his workspace, somewhere they could close the door and lock it away, and the tiny office space was outfitted with a futon for the rare nights he didn’t go home. When Isobel pushed the bedroom door open, there was a fine layer of dust over everything; it really had been months since he’d even been by to work on it. Isobel ignored the dust for once in her life and helped Michael into a chair in front of the worktable. The glowing piece of glass from their old console stared up at them as if daring Michael to make it work. 

“What do you need?” Isobel asked again.

“Acetone. Bathroom.” She left to get it without argument. While she was gone, Michael inspected everything he’d left out. He’d first gotten the idea after examining their old pods, including Noah’s broken one. They had sustained them for decades, kept them from aging, which led Michael to consider they had some means of controlling or amending time. Between that and the console from their ship, he’d had the bright idea that he could use Oasian technology to control time. It was a ridiculous idea and one he’d pursued mostly because he’d wanted something to work on, not because he thought it would actually work. But now his husband and brother were dead and he needed it to work. 

Isobel shoved the bottle in front of his face and he gulped it down greedily. “What else?” 

“My tools,” he nodded behind her at another small table. She lifted it carefully and dropped it back down right next to him so he wouldn’t have to reach. “Now, just, I don’t know. Let me figure this out.” He couldn’t explain what he was doing, he never could. It always drove Liz insane how he could just intuit what needed to be done but could never explain it in terms that she could understand or replicate. He had no idea how he would advise Isobel to continue after him. 

“Wait,” she urged. “Let me put something on your wound first. So you don’t bleed out.”

“Do it while I start. Don’t know how much time I’ve got.” So she did. He worked one handed while she cut up his shirt and pressed bandages on the bullet wound. There wasn’t an exit wound in his back but neither of them commented on it. 

Michael worked steadily for over an hour before his hands started to shake so bad he struggled to make the necessary connections. He wasn't sure if it was the pressure of the situation or the adrenaline from the bullet lodged in his abdomen finally wearing off or the fact that his hands were still coated in Alex's blood but he could not steady them no matter how hard he tried. But he couldn’t stop. Not now. Not after all that happened. Isobel had been right; if there was any chance of fixing it, of saving Alex, he couldn’t stop.

“Michael,” Isobel said quietly from somewhere behind him. He’d forgotten she was there. “Maybe…” He waited but she didn’t continue. He wasn’t sure what she’d wanted to say; this had been her idea in the first place. And it’s not like they had any other choice. Their only doctor was sitting in ICE lockup. So was their back up. 

When the shaking got so bad that he couldn’t hold his tools steady, he resorted to using his powers. Normally, he didn’t have enough control to do such minor movements with them but he was beginning to realize the depths of his desperation. He was going to join Alex soon one way or another but he’d really like it if they were both alive. All the while, Isobel stood silently behind him, not even attempting to offer commentary again. When his body gave out from the untreated bullet wound, she tried to force more acetone down his throat. Instead, he waved her away. He was too exhausted to keep using his powers and there was no other point in prolonging the inevitable. 

“I need-” he panted. 

“Tell me.”

So he did. From his spot in the chair, he directed her to finish his work, the tech glowing brighter in her hands than it had in his. His voice got softer the longer she worked until he was barely mumbling and she had to ask him question after question to get him to keep talking.

Finally, finally, she lifted her hands from the complicated network of alien and human tech and turned to him. Tear tracks marred her face but her eyes were clear. “What are the odds? What happens if it doesn’t work?”

Michael tried to shrug but it took too much effort. “No idea,” he admitted. This was all beyond theoretical. “And if it doesn’t work…who knows. But I have to.”

She looked between him and the machine and nodded. “I can’t.”

“Iz, this was your idea.”

Isobel cut him off. “If this works, that’s amazing.” She swallowed hard. “But if it doesn’t- if it doesn’t, we still have people here to take care of. And I can’t leave them. Not now. Not after-” Not after losing Max, and now Alex and Michael. They stared at each other for a long moment before Isobel wrapped him in her arms and squeezed as tightly as she dared. “I love you. It’s going to work.” 

“I love you too.”

She helped him to his feet and practically hauled him over to the table and draped him over it. Michael didn’t bother turning to look at her as she stepped away from him, her fingertips dragging across the back of his shoulders as she did so. He waited until she’d left the room before focusing all of his waning energy on fiddling with the machine until it was just right. When he was satisfied, he slammed his hand onto the alien console, his and Alex’s blood coating it. At that moment, the only thing he could think of was that if this pipe dream of a plan actually worked, he was about to see Alex.

Isobel’s “good luck” from the doorway was soft as a bright light erupted around him.

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

For the wip game, I can't decide between the 5 times fic or cuddle pollen, so i leave the choice to you.

Thank you so much for your ask 🥰

5 Times You Were Not Dating Bucky Barnes

I love a 5+1 fic so much and I think this one is going to be really fun and silly. Sam and Joaquín are convinced you're dating Bucky, but you're adamant you're not, you're just...friends, colleagues.

You are not dating Bucky Barnes. At least once a day these words come out of your mouth and it's becoming so frequent now that you're considering just recording yourself and playing it back on your phone. Colleagues, partners in the field, friends. Not a couple. Not dating. "Did you hear that, Wilson? She said —" "Yeah, yeah, sure." Sam rolled his eyes at Bucky, sighing dramatically in a way that only Sam is really allowed to get away with. Bucky hadn't taken his eyes from your laptop screen or the secure file you were scrolling through. "Look awful close though." You looked up this time, the top of your head brushing Bucky's cheek, his breath was warm against your own and the contrast between his exhale and the cold glass of the table gave you goosebumps. "We're reviewing the data Joaquín sent us, what do you want us to do?" You snapped, scrolling to the next page of mind numbingly boring KPIs and MIs. Just your luck to get the management files and nothing juicy. "Perhaps use the projector?" Sam clicked a button on the table and the details on your screen lit up the plain, white wall of the conference room. Embarrassed heat flared up your spine and you shivered. "Not very secure though, is it, Captain?" Bucky picked up the remote and switched the projector off, his eyes on the laptop screen. The plastic of your chair squeaked as he tightened his hold on it, and the door slammed shut behind Sam.

Cuddle Pollen

So I saw this post a while ago and it sparked so much joy I had to pop something in my WIPs. I actually had more written of this than I remember, so thank you for making me go and check it!

I've started two fics with this idea. One from reader's pov where she thinks Bucky hates her even though she's sort of obsessed with him, until they get trapped in a lab with what is essentially truth serum.

And the other is that Bucky is triggered during a mission when a HYDRA agent injects him and reader goes after him. She finds a lab full of chemicals and vials and with Natasha's help they find an "antidote". Reader is sure it's just an antidote for the previous "poison", but when the Winter Soldier starts following her around, she reveals the truth.

I guess I'll probably write both in the end, here's a snippet from the first fic 🥰

You didn’t think it was possible to make yourself look more foolish than usual, but then you’d always somehow beaten the odds. You’d somehow made it onto the Avengers training programme, somehow passed, somehow ingratiated yourself with the most senior members of the team and then - somehow - you’d managed to lock yourself in an underground bunker with the one team member you were sure hated you. Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.  Not only had Sergeant Barnes had to catch you when you almost fell out of the Quinjet and then rebuckled your utility belt when it almost fell to the floor, he had also followed you into this stupid trap because of one of your hunches. 

My WIP titles

[queermentaldisaster]

“The Hunt Is My Muse”

Holy fucking shit y'all, it's been a while since I've updated this fic. Finally managed to finish this chapter, so here you go! I don't remember if there was a tag list or not so uh...woe be upon ye ig, lol. Enjoy!

“Thank you for letting us use your interrogation room, Alejandro.” Price thanked him, as Soap kept Graves moving forward, Ghost at his side, in panther form.

Graves stayed quiet, even as Alejandro shot him a glare, before speaking to Price. “It’s no problem. You all are a part of this force as far as we are concerned,” Alejandro said, with a soft smile. “Mi casa es tu casa. It means that my home is your home.”

Price smiled. “Gracias, Alejandro.”

Soap pushed Graves into the interrogation room, Ghost following behind. Graves went to the chair without a single fuss, sitting down and letting Soap restrain him. Soap’s eyes narrowed. ‘Suspicious.’ He thought, before grabbing Graves’ chin. “Where’s all yer fight, ye bawbag?” Soap demanded. Ghost tilted his head, watching Graves closely.

Graves looked Soap in the eyes, his face expressionless. He didn’t say a word, which only raised Soap’s suspicions. Ghost let out a low growl, stepping closer, his tail lashing. Price stepped in, crossing his arms. “What’s going on, Soap?” The older man asked, and Soap looked back at Price.

“He’s doin’ nothin’. Nae dout he’s up tae somethin’.” Soap spat, his eyes narrowed further. He let go of Graves’ chin, stepping back. Graves let his head hang low, visibly refusing to do anything but sit there. Ghost snarled, just as Gaz entered the room who let out a sharp breath, his nostrils flaring.

“Alright, everyone out, I need to work.” Gaz ordered, and Soap nodded, leaving with Ghost and Price.

•✧-----------------------------------✧•

Gaz came out about an hour later, sitting on the couch in the lounge, right next to Roach, who was rambling to Ghost and Soap. Soap looked up. “Any luck?” He asked.

Gaz shook his head. “Not exactly. He told me what we already knew, but nothing more.” He grumped, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Soap hummed, idly picking at a scab on his arm.

“Hm. He's bein’ too cooperative.” He muttered, mostly to himself as he stared into the distance. “I cannae tell if he's daft or suicidal.”

Ghost chuffed and put a paw on Soap's hand, drawing him back to reality. He looked down at the panther and used his free hand to scratch behind his ears. “Och, ah dinnae ken if it matters either. He's no’ goin’ free.”

Gaz hummed, tapping his fingers on the holster of his gun. “Not sure it's either of those.” He murmured, causing the others to look at him with confusion. Gaz shrugged, looking directly at Soap. “He mentioned something in passing as I was leaving. Something about how he just wanted to keep what he'd managed to build.”

Roach arched an eyebrow. “Shepherd threatened to destroy his life?” Gaz shrugged again and Ghost's ears flicked in irritation from the repeated tapping on the holster.

Soap slipped Gaz a pen to twirl as the other man began speaking. “Maybe. But I'm not so sure that it's that simple. I'ma talk to Price, see if he and Laswell can dig up Graves’ files. We're missing a piece here.”

Ghost growled, displeased with what Gaz was implying. Gaz looked at him with a sigh. “I know, you want him six feet under, but he could have extra information we need and I need to know where to push to get that information.”

Soap scratched Ghost's head, nodding at Gaz. “Aye, we can understand that. We're nae goin’ tae be happy about it though.”

[sekaithemystic]

Manage to rip those photos in So Mi's apartment from game files. Absolutely in love with the last one that looks like they were attending prom? 😭😭😭😭😭 she looks so happy oh my god

[shutit-haha]

Bakugou X reader from PR

This is VERY self indulgent and I'm puertorican so readers gonna have to be puertorican too. Might make this into a series, or at the least a longer piece. Let me know what you guys think. Sorry the ending is like non-existant.

Bakugou wasn't sure as to how he fell in love with you. Well actually he was. You were so independent. Spoke three different languages; English, Spanish and Japanese. And you are currently working on learning a fourth. You bought yourself a ring as a commitment to yourself. And you had your own big office in your own big business.

"I'm sorry why are you here again?" You were reading something from where you sat behind your desk. Your Japanese was perfect, the kind of accent he hears when at home.

"You scheduled the meeting," he growled, biting back an insult. You seemed so serious and yet in comparison to him still so small. Then again the man had a growthsport that turned him into a mountain.

"Oh," you laughed then. Your eyes crinkled in the corners hair falling back with the way you tossed your head. "That was probably a drunk buy one of my friends made. They're not from here so... and the coquito was stronger than we thought it would me." Your smile then fell, "I'm not paying for this am I?"

"You haven't hired me yet," he growled out again. His voice was harsher this time, the veins in his neck bulging from the strain of his venom.

Bakugou knows exactly how he fell in love with you. What he didn't know was how he stayed in love with you.

You didn't wake up at 5 in the morning like he did, or at least like how he thought you did too. No you slept in to damn near 1 in the afternoon and blamed in on whatever the fuck P.O.C time is. You started your morning with a shower and a skin routine. You'd stare at yourself in the mirror whole naked- which he did too but the way you did was...weird.

"What chu doing?" He was just as naked as you were hands hovering over your hips, breath fanning your neck.

"Shh," you shushed him softly. Your eyes were shut as you took a deep breath in. "I am beautiful. I am the epitome of beauty. Beauty is not a competition. You are not simply better than me because of how you look, nor am I better than you."

"Affirmations?"

"For the insecurity demons creep in during the night." You turn around to kiss him, arms wrapping loosely around his neck. Finally he grips roughly at your hips, teeth diving straight for your neck. "Insecirity always creeps in during the night, so I like to kick it out in the morning."

"You gonna be productive today?"

You shrugged. Turns out you weren't as driven as he believed you to be. You sat at your breakfast bar with a Journal and a cute pen. Your silk robe was wrapped around you, and your legs were crossed. Your feet didn't reach the floor so your slippers fell off, your barefeet were smooth and nails painted. He had no idea how you managed to be so flawless.

"Breakfast," he grunted. Bakugou (you figured out) was nosy. "What chu you doing now?" He leaned his head forward a little so he could read it.

"Thoughts, dream, aspirations, inspirations." You preferred him being a chismosa rather than machismo.

He didn't understand your worry or stress sure but that's because he was born here, in Japan. "Explain it to me again."

"I can't travel with you. I have to live here ten years consistently in order to file for citizenship."

"You're not-" He didn't want to finish that. He worried it might make him sound...you know.

"Visa," you grunt trying to bulldoze your way past the subject. It made you anxious and you didn't like it one bit. Not someone as confident and sure as you are.

"I'll just marry you."

"Not really how that works chuelo, but I appreciate you trying." You give him a lopsided smile.

"How the hell does it work then?"

"Can we not right now mi amor?"

He stares at you before sitting down with a huff. "Fine," when he replies one of his canines catching in the light.

"Thank you," you tuck away your hair.

[onaegling]

so i recovered by Bigass music file that I have had compiling for the past 11 years of my life from my laptop and i am like. in shock of how much music is in this zip

my dad got his hands on an old government pc a few years back (no longer in service) and he stumbled upon a HUGE library of music. ranging from classic rock to musicals. there were SO MANY official broadway musicals in there. like SO MANY. wicked. lion king. les mis. city of angels. big. rent. etc etc etc.

unfortunately i don't have THAT collection anymore (stored on a usb stick somewhere. matter of finding out which.) but i did manage to save ones i was somewhat interested in onto my own pc. which moved to my old laptop. which is now on my current computer.

This is also not counting the music I Myself collected

I've been going through each song individually to figure out what some of them are (since I didn't name some of them correctly) and I'm just kind of in awe about how much there is here.