#it's been a while since i've written one of these

[danieyells]

UPCOMING CARDS!!!!

The PC may have like a month and a half to live but time does not stop for her--Tanbata is here(in-game. tanbata isn't for another few weeks irl) and so are the story cards for this episode!!! And the Tanbata outfits are so pretty!!!

And of course the episode itself comes out in about 20 hours! They still no longer show the next episode's sprite information in the files so unfortunately I won't know what or who's in the following episode. But I'm sure you've come to expect that by now. But we do know the title at least! Anyway--cards!

Character Card: Firelit Wayfarer(「あたたかな灯の指す方へ」  "Pointing Towards The Warm Light") Skill: First Festival(「初めてのお祭り」  "First Festival") Fully Awakened Skill: Up-And-Coming Cowherd(「新進気鋭の牽牛」  "Up-And-Coming Altair" or "Young, Energetic Altair". "Altair"--or 'Hikoboshi'--is the name of one of the two pivotal stars in Tanbata.) Warding Card: Festival Night(「"お祭りの夜に」  "The Night Of The Festival")

Character Card: Yearning Altair(「誰が為の彦星」  "Altair For Whom?") Skill: Milky Way Admiration(「天の川への憧れ」  "Yearning For The Milky Way") Fully Awakened Skill: Footloose Cowherd(「マイペースな牽牛」  "Altair Who Does Things His Way") Warding Card: Fire Flowers(「灯の花が咲く丘」  "The Hill Where Light Flowers Bloom")

Character Card: Swirling Stars(「星と想いは波の随に」  "Stars And Thoughts At The Mercy Of The Waves") Skill: Shrine Ferryman(「本殿への舟守」  "Captain Of The Ship To The Main Shrine") Fully Awakened Skill: Serene Cowherd(「静謐なる牽牛」  "Peaceful Altair") Warding Card: Sweet Burst(「甘くはじける味」  "Sweetly Bursting Flavor")

Character Card: Unmade Wish(「心に秘めた願い」  "A Wish Kept Secret") Skill: Wish Trivia(「短冊のトリビア」  "Tanzaku Trivia" 'tanzaku' are long, narrow strips of paper on which Japanese poems are written vertically. On Tanbata it's customary to write a wish on tanzaku and hang it on bamboo.) Fully Awakened Skill: Swallowed Words(「飲み込んだ言葉」  "Swallowed Words") Warding Card: Support From The Sideline(「射的応援中」  "Shooting Gallery Support")

There's one more warding card Grand Entrance (「満を持しての登場」 "Long-Awaited Entrance") but the image of the card itself isn't in the files yet. Based on it being an SR and its position however it's most likely the story SR from last episode.

There's also a new cosmic bond! It's most likely just these cards, given it's clearly the cosmic bond for this episode.

Darkwick Cowherds (「ダークウィック七夕伝説」 "Darkwick Tanbata Tradition")

The next episode title is The Vanishing Homeroom (「神隠しホームルーム」 "The Mysteriously Disappearing Homeroom")! I guess this will be an on campus sort of mission, although it could easily be at a civilian school in Tokyo. . .and if it's anything like this one and the previous one maybe it'll be another inter-house squad.

Uuuh is that everything? Beside the stats I mean? I think that's everything! Feels like it's been ages since I did this many cards in one go @,@ Okay quickly wrapping up!!

Gacha is gambling! Banners rerun! I know how rough FOMO can be but it's okay if you don't get the units you want this first time around--they will always come back! If you're going to spend on the game please be sure to set limits for yourself and stick to them! Gambling addiction is real, so please seek help if you find yourself struggling!

My Japanese isn't very good! So please take my translations with a grain of salt.

Why don't you make a wish? You can learn how to make a tanzaku here. I've read that in Japan they're often set afloat on a river or burned at midnight/the next day, so once you've made it and let it exist in the world for a while, dispose of it how you see fit perhaps. It may just be a silly little activity but writing things out, putting them in the world, can be cathartic even if it does nothing else. It's important to do meaningless things and things for yourself sometimes.

Here are the stats! Good night, good luck with any pulls you make, and I hope this is a good episode!! 🎋🌌

[lunarxcity]

Why Hide? (Part XII to Why Me?)

Azriel x rhys sister! reader!

angst/eventual comfort (This got really scary real fast! We love some good plot! Also sorry for the short chapter it's been a minute since I've written...)

Summary: When you walk in on Azriel and Elain the mating bond snaps leading you to flee to Autumn with Eris so you can be free of Azriel. Your absence causes Azriel to come to some drastic realisations, but is it already too late and has your time in Autumn led to you moving on?

Parts I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, and XI if you missed them!

-

Azriel was yanked out of sleep by a horrifying nightmare, the fourth one this week. They always ended the same, with a dark figure holding an onyx blade emanating an evil magic to your neck and no matter how hard he tries you're always either stabbed, poisoned, or some combination of the two.

For Azriel may have beaten death, but he may have paid the price with his soul. The Mother fought to save his life but the unknown darkness fought harder to claim his soul.

After Eris purged all the darkness from his chest with his fire and he had his outburst, Azriel passed out. You monitored him while he slept and he woke up nearly 2 days later screaming.

You guys have barely spoken, cordial small talk and tense silence filling the gap between you now that everything was out in the open. Azriel can't bear your rejection, so for now he will take your silence.

Footsteps in the hallway snap him out of his trance, everytime he wakes from a nightmare he can hear you hovering by his door. He had had gone from feeling a dull trickle of your feelings to now a roaring waterfall as the bond was formally acknowledged.

He knew he woke you up every night and he could feel your hesitation and desperation in his own chest, the same way you felt his fear.

The first night you had been pacing in your room and had ultimately gone to bed after he had lightly tugged on the bond to let you know he was okay.

The second night you had made it out of the hallway after hearing a crash and pretended to get water and do other mundane tasks until you couldn't hear any movement from his room anymore.

The night after that you slipped one of his shadows a sleeping potion so he could go back to bed without being plagued by nightmares.

This was the fourth night and you had made it to his door. The shadows were telling him that your hand was up, ready to knock, but you had been standing there for nearly 5 minutes and yet nothing.

He decided to put you out of your misery and he opened the door to your shocked figure.

"Can I help you? You're hovering like a vulture." Your expression shifted from surprise to embarrassment.

"I just- I didn't- " You stammered out.

Azriel raised a brow and you took a deep breath, steadying your voice.

"I just wanted to make sure you were alright, I could uhm feel your terror." You mumbled the last part out.

You were tired of beating around the bush with him, he already knew that you knew and you had been dancing around each other for days. It didn't feel right, but again nothing did these days.

Azriel did not expect you to acknowledge the bond so openly. You said nothing about acceptance or rejection, just acknowledged it's existence. Maybe after everything is done with you guys would have that conversation, but for now there were more pressing matters at hand.

"I'm fine." An answer so short and unrevealing, how Azriel.

"You've been different since your return." You were trying to get him to talk about it, everyone else was blinded by the joy of having him back but you felt the scars that his soul now beared.

You felt the darkness emanating off of him when he was contaminated with that black magic.

"Yes that tends to happen when you come back from the dead." His response came out a bit harsher than intended, but Azriel's facade has been crumbling.

He has tried these past few days to put on a mask and put away his suffering from his family, but he hasn't slept in days he was exhausted.

You flinched slightly, but you just looked at him and waited patiently. The look in your eyes let him told that you were listening and his resolve was finally crumbling.

"I feel the scars of the darkness on my soul. It was slowly taking over me, eroding who I was until all I knew was pain and the only thing I yearned for was power and revenge."

He took a breath and you grabbed his hand and dragged him to sit down on his bed.

He reached for his chest, where the darkness used to be like he could still feel it eating away at himself and everything he knew the world to be.

"I almost lost myself and if I did, I knew that whatever dark master I would serve would use me and that twisted magic to defeat Prythian so I brought myself to the one person who could save me."

He looked at you with vulnerability and pain and as you looked into his eyes, the same hazel eyes that have plagued your mind for Mother's known how long, you started to feel a seed of fear being planted in your stomach.

The golden flecks in Azriel's eyes, the eyes you knew better than your own, were gone. They were replaced by a darker green, the warmth consumed by this unfamiliar darkness.

Something is wrong with Azriel.

"I swear to the Mother or whatever gods will listen to me, we will get answers and find a way to fix this, Azriel."

You hold both of his hands in your own and look him in the eyes, determination coating your features.

"It makes no difference if the gods turn their backs on us, for you are the only deity that I answer to. For I would forsake all of them and eternally damn myself just to be by your side, whatever you give me will be enough for me. "

Almost dying really changes your priorities, well in Azriel's case at least. He would rather leave knowing that he told you how he was feeling, instead of leaving without telling you once.

He has already died with regrets once and he would worse than a fool to do it again.

You dragged him to the library and started to research.

-

The dark figure was out again, the night freed him he could ebb and flow through the darkness as he pleased. The sun was a hideous thing that he abhorred, for light reveals all in its presence. There was no hiding in the light and no room for his sinister schemes in the light of day.

He had been trying to get through to the shadowsinger all week, but the most he could do was plague him with measly nightmares.

Pathetic.

He had once started plagues that took down civilisations, started wars that had broken apart nations, and now he was no more than the boogeyman.

He had corrupted a few others, watching as they gave into madness and took others down with them but it didn't give him the satisfaction he craved.

What he craved was power. He wanted to bring Prythian down to it's knees and mere fae could not do that.

He needed the shadowsinger or the high lord, but Rhysand was so heavily guarded he couldn't even make it within a hundred feet without being slaughtered.

He'd had the shadowsinger in his clutches and he lost him along with is plan to take down Prythian.

First it was Prythian, then Hybern, and finally the mainland until the entire world was consumed by terror and chaos and he would be standing on the ruins.

He hears a song over the horizon. It's a song of enchantment and one that beckons to him, which is strange since he cannot stand the screech of music.

He follows the sound and is met with a white strand of twisted magic that flows through the woods. A trap of some sort, a normal fae would be ensnared, but he is not fae and the magic of this world doesn't effect him the way it should.

He follows the magical strand to the source like it's a stray piece of yarn.

He weaves through the forest until he feels the world slip away from him temporarily. When he comes back he notices that the trees were much taller than they just were and the trunks a deep shade of red as if trying to warn him from coming any closer.

The yarn ball ends up being a lake. While it looks like it should be picturesque with towering trees along the shoreline, there was something eerie that could only be explained by a sinister type of magic.

It's pitch black, even though there was a full moon and the only light source is the unnatural blue glow of the lake.

Welcome follower

The lake whispers to him in a voice that sounds like tar.

He walks up to the lake to see the source of this voice.

"I am no follower of yours."

My how interesting and I was told you had left this world long ago

"You are a child compared to me. I am as old as the dust of this universe."

It appears that your age has caused you to grow weak

Anger roared in him. "I WILL-"

Calm down, I am not trying to insult you, but rather convince you to take a deal of sorts

"I do not make deals with those beneath me."

I have the power you need, and my price is low. I only ask for one simple thing.

The scowl that is normally plastered on his face shifts to intrigue.

When we have the world on it's knees, you give me Prythian once you are finished ravaging it.

That was a small price to pay in the grand scheme of things and while he did not work well with others from the power of this being alone he knew that he could deliver what he was promising.

All you have to do is free me from this lake and we can destroy everything together

He pluges his shadowed arm into the lake and pulls this being through whatever enchantments were holding him there until he breaches the lakes surface.

He now stands in front of him, an evil grin on his face, laughing to himself relishing in his freedom.

"My name is Koschei, it's lovely to meet you in person."

-

The winds cry and the shadows retreat back in fear.

It's the middle of the night and you and Azriel, are researching in the library when Azriel's shadows begin to scream.

He falls to the ground, clutching his head screaming out in pain.

You fall to the ground with him, trying to figure out whats wrong when Rhys and Feyre winnow in.

Rhys was in the same state as Azriel, clutching his head and on the floor.

Feyre was running through the stacks, urgently looking for a book.

This continued on for 10 minutes until they both snapped out of it. You looked out the window to see the first light of dawn.

Feyre was adamantly flipping through the large book she had and Rhys and Azriel were catching their breath.

You looked at both of them, "What happened?"

Rhys shuddered. Azriel replied, "I'm not sure it was almost as if Night itself was screaming, my shadows were terrified."

Cassian and Nesta burst through the door.

"He's out." That's all Nesta managed to say.

Rhys and Azriel froze and you saw a look in their eyes that you haven't seen since the first war. It was fear. Pure, icy fear.

"Who's out?"

Eris came running through the door followed by Lucien and Elain.

"Koschei! He's free, he's trying-" She started swaying on her feet.

"He's trying-" Elain immediately falls unconscious and Lucien catches her.

"She had a vision, she was screaming about Koschei and the lake." Lucien slowly says.

The room was silent,all the air sucked out. The threat to Prythian was greater than they could have imagined.

They say death always has a price and Azriel prayed to the Mother that Prythian was not about to pay it.

-

note: Hello my loves long time no see life got pretty chaotic and has prevented me from escaping back to my stories(i know i know). I hope everyone is well and the story has not slipped from anyones mind in the meantime, but personally I believe that suspense only makes the story that much impactful (that's what im using as an excuse for my lack of activity). This chapter is short and a bit darker than usual which I hope is not too out of the blue for anyone but it is pure plot which we have not really seen yet. I'm excited to dust off this story and get right back to it so enjoy and like always until next time my darlings!

note note: One day I will get a beta reader, but until then in the spirit of magic and make believe lets pretend like my grammatical errors and typos don't exist!

my lovely taglist: @alimarie1105 @chaosabroad @bbontenswhhore @tele86 @ashblooddragons @circe143 @i-am-infinite @princesssunderworld @thestartitaness @tiffany-xx @cpfantasybooks @lucia-valentinaa @jennigsonl @ivy-34 @firefly-forest @k-homosapien @coeurdeveea @cherryjain17 @bckynatt @becstersworld @rcarbo1 @gojospearlycim @atluky @juliebluehufflepuff @willowpains @abadfantasybook @neverendingstay @hellohauntedturnstudent @highladyofhogwarts @littowl @iluvyewman-blog @lunaticpotatoe @justlivinginadaydream @julesiebean @shylahstarzz @olive-main @lreadsstuff @noonenuts @sourapplex @aquellaspequenascosas @anuttellaa @honethatty12 @moonlwghts @kittymeyers @beabogsims @sillyfreakfanparty @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @lilah-asteria @chicaconfundidaycuriosa @florencemtrash @violetscar656 @ania-swissweet @jasmineee05 @fxckmiup @plants-w0rld @lou-diaries

[sergeantbuckybarnes]

REMEMBER YOU YOUNG // bucky barnes

CHAPTER 1: WELCOME TO NEW YORK

Summary: You end up stuck in 1942 without a way to come back, but when you meet the young and charming version of Bucky Barnes, do you really want to go back to the present?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: mentions of war, lack of 40's knowledge, mentions of back to the future & the butterfly effect (with spoilers)

A/N: As always, remember English is not my first language. I'm sorry for any grammatical or spelling errors. No proofread or beta-ed.

It’s been an eternity since I've written for Bucky… I posted this fic I a few years ago, and I was going through it again, but I wasn’t happy with how I wrote it back in the day, so I decided to start it over. Reader how travels back in time and falls in love with Bucky is one of my favorite tropes 🙈 Hope you guys like it!!!!

marvel masterlist | series masterlist

It was supposed to be an easy mission.

In and out.

Easy. Risk-free.

You'd had the warehouse under surveillance for weeks, every corner carefully analyzed, the plan memorized like a mantra.

Steve had repeatedly said, “Do not touch the crystal.” To be honest, he'd repeated it more times than necessary. And even if you'd never admit it, you knew you were the reason for it.

Impulsive.

Reckless.

Hot-headed.

You were a good agent; that was indisputable. But you had the flaw of having trouble keeping your restlessness and curiosity at bay.

And that's why, when you entered the room, with Wanda behind you, your eyes were drawn to the glass resting on a pillar in the center of the room. It radiated an almost hypnotic white glow.

Steve's voice warning that the crystal shouldn't be touched without proper protection echoed in a remote corner of your mind, like an echo fading into the distance. And even closer, Wanda's voice was a murmur urgently calling your name.

You couldn't help it. It was like a magnetic pull, and the Chrono Crystal was chanting your name.

Your hand extended slowly, almost subconsciously. The moment felt frozen in time, as if the world had stopped spinning for a split second. When your fingertips finally made contact with the raw edges of the crystal, a pulse rushed through your body, leaving you paralyzed.

And then it happened.

The first thing was a powerful flash of light, so powerful that when you faced it, you had to close your eyes and shield your face with your arm.

The next thing was a tremor, the vibration of the ground resonating through your bones, and with a shudder, you lost your balance, collapsing next to Wanda on the cold concrete floor.

Then, a gust of wind blew toward you, a whirlwind that carried with it a force that defied logic. The white light intensified even further, enveloping every corner of the room in a flash so bright it was impossible to see anything. A few seconds later, the chaos ceased, and everything went black.

As your vision cleared, you realized something was wrong. The cold walls and concrete floor of the warehouse had been replaced by the grimy walls and floor of a dimly lit alley.

You slowly got up from the ground, wincing in pain as you touched your side, feeling it slightly bruised from the fall. Dazed and disoriented, you struggled to process your abrupt displacement. You found yourself standing in a narrow alleyway, surrounded by decaying posters plastered on the walls. The clamor of bustling city life and indistinct chatter filled your ears.

Your mind raced as you tried to make sense of the situation. “What the hell just happened?”

You heard Wanda groaning while getting up on her feet, brushing the dust off her jacket. When her sight gathered back its focus, her expression morphed into a confused one, which you were pretty sure matched yours.

“Where are we?”

You took tentative steps, your eyes darting from one end of the alley to the other, searching for any semblance of familiarity. The disorienting shift in your surroundings fueled a growing sense of unease within you. Your heart raced as you tried to recall what could have caused this bewildering displacement.

Then it hit you.

“The crystal,” you murmured.

“Steve warned you not to touch it,” she reprimanded.

“Actually, he warned all of us.”

“He just said it because of you.”

And you knew she was right.

You turned around to see Wanda, who was holding a newspaper in her hands with a frightened expression on her face. 

“What is it?” you inquired, curious as to what had disturbed her so deeply. She put out the newspaper for you to read, and dread settled in your gut. 

“THE BATTLEFRONTS OF THE WAR IN THE SOUTHWESTERN PACIFIC JAPANESE CLOSING PINCERS ON JAVA”

And the date.

February 18, 1942.

“We’re… We’re in the past.” The realization tumbled from your lips, heavy and surreal.

Was it actually feasible that you had gone back in time? 

Is this why they kept the crystal secured?

“What do we do now?” Wanda looked at you as if she expected you to come up with a solution; after all, you were responsible for this situation. If you had followed Steve’s orders and not touched the Chrono Crystal, you would not be here right now. Instead, you would have finished the mission and be back at the compound, safe and enjoying a cup of ice cream while watching some shitty show on Netflix.

You sighed. “I don’t know.”

“They’re going to come for us, right?”

You could hear the tremble of anxiety in her voice as she spoke, and it matched your own mounting fear. The weight of the moment pressed down on your shoulders, with each second extending into eternity as you tried to come up with a plan.

“Yeah, eventually,” you replied, though your words were coated with uncertainty. “They must have realized something had happened. Tony and Banner would quickly figure out what the crystal can do.”

“What do we do until then?”

For the time being, you concluded that looking for a place to stay was the best course of action. You stepped out of the alley and onto the streets of Brooklyn. 

The air was filled with the sounds of streetcars clattering down the rails and people discussing the latest news. The sidewalks were bustling with activity, lined with oak trees and lampposts. 

Men in hats and suits, women in gowns with nicely coiled curls, all going about their daily routines. Stores displayed their goods in small windows, luring passersby with flashy signs. The aromas of freshly baked bread and fried fish wafted from corner delis and bakeries.

You noticed the advertisements painted on brick walls, touting things that have long ago disappeared or evolved, and the newspaper boys shouting headlines about the ongoing war, and mothers rushing by with their children.

Everything felt so familiar yet completely foreign.

You understood how Steve felt when he walked into Times Square for the first time after being defrosted.

As you went through the crowd, you could see people giving you weird looks, attempting to get out of your way, and avoiding walking near you at all. 

“Why are they looking at us like that?” you inquired.

Wanda halted walking and grabbed your hand, dragging you to the side of the roadway. “I think it’s the clothes,” she pointed out.

“What’s wrong with our— ” You stopped your words when you took a look at what you were wearing. “Oh.”

You couldn’t stroll down like that. It was drawing attention, which was the last thing you two needed right now. Wanda paused for a moment, unsure if she should do what she was contemplating or not; it was a good option, the only one you had. 

Wanda sighed. She did not have a choice. 

You glanced at her and immediately knew what she wanted to do. It was one of the many reasons The Scarlet Witch was your closest friend—there was no need for words to communicate what the other was thinking.

With a snap of her fingers and just a few seconds later, you glanced down to see your new garments. Your twenty-first-century clothing had been swapped for simple, period-appropriate attire, resembling those commonly worn by women in those days.

You looked at her with the fascination that you’d always held whenever you saw Wanda utilize her powers. You couldn’t understand why people could be afraid of her when she could do such wonderful things.

The next day, you were lying in the bed of the hostel you were staying in, and the ceiling had never looked more interesting. It had been more than 24 hours, and you still hadn't heard from your friends.

You hadn’t left the room since you arrived and were beginning to feel suffocated.

“Let’s get out,” you said as you rose from the bed. Wanda averted her attention from the book she was reading and glanced at you as if you’d grown a second head.

“Are you crazy? We can’t just wander around the city like that!”

“Why not?” You pouted and sat in her bed next to her. “What is the harm?”

Impulsive.

Reckless.

Hot-headed.

Careless.

Wanda sighed and shut the book in her hands. “We aren’t home! We cannot parade around the city as if we belong here.”

“I just want to have some fun!”

“You wanting to have fun is what brings you into trouble, and let the rest of us deal with the consequences.”

She was not trying to be mean. She loved you; you were her best friend, her shoulder to cry on, and the only consistency in her life, but your persistent negligence drove her nuts. No matter how many times you burned, you never learned.

Like right now— you were stuck eighty years back in the past because of your reckless behavior, and you wanted to go out and have fun as if it were any other Friday.

You got up abruptly from the bed and made your way to the door.

“Where are you going?”

You did not respond to her as you exited the room, closing the door behind you and leaving the building and onto the streets of New York. You knew you were acting childishly, and Wanda was correct, but you were too proud to admit it.

You wandered through the streets with no particular destination in mind; all you wanted was to feel the breeze on your face. You had been walking for at least twenty minutes when you spotted a building that caught your eye.

‘The Lindy Lounge’

A dance hall.

You crossed the street and headed towards the building. 

The doorman, dressed in a clean white shirt, a black vest, and a bow tie, smiled and nodded to you in greeting.

A live band playing a fast tune, the beating of tap shoes on the shiny wooden floor. The aromas of perfume and tobacco smoke hung in the air.

Couples swayed in perfect sync with the music on the dance floor. A half-moon-shaped bar circled one wall of the room where patrons gathered, sipping cocktails and chatting.

The scene was completely different from the clubs you used to go to in Brooklyn nowadays.

As your eyes kept exploring the room, you spotted a short man standing out from the crowd that you couldn’t help but recognize. You narrowed your eyes, trying to get a better glimpse of him.

He was so much different now, but you could still recognize Steve Rogers anywhere.

You turned away as soon as you recognized him. Steve could not see you—yes, he didn’t know who you were yet, but he would meet you in the future, which could have a wide range of consequences. 

What if you do something that changes the past and influences the future?

You’ve watched ‘Back to the Future’ enough times to know that one small action could create ripples across time. 

The butterfly effect was no joke. 

What if you do something that alters the past and impacts the future?

Like when Marty unintentionally interfered with his parents’ first meeting, almost wiping himself out of existence.

Or that other movie with Ashton Kutcher, where he realized he could travel back to key moments in his life by reading his journals. Every time he modified an event in his past to achieve a better future for himself, he discovered that the repercussions of his actions were far more intricate and catastrophic than he ever anticipated.

You groaned inwardly at the thought; you couldn’t let that happen.

That would be your biggest screw-up ever.

You began to panic, your mind racing as you made your way back to the exit, only to turn around and clash with someone.

“Careful, doll.” 

That voice, why did it sound so familiar to you? 

You looked up, heart pounding, and found yourself staring into the piercing steel-blue eyes of a much younger version of Bucky Barnes.

His gaze was soft, devoid of all the sorrow he had become familiar with these days, and the charming smile across his face contrasted sharply with the ever-present frown he wore now.

The Bucky Barnes you knew was nothing like the man who currently stood in front of you.

“Bucky?” You stammered, your lips moving before you could control them. 

Here it goes, the second mistake of the night.

Confusion washed over his face. “Do we know each other?”

Your brain short-circuited, searching for a plausible response.

“Um– I mean… Is there any single lady in Brooklyn who doesn’t know who Bucky Barnes is?” You said, forcing a hollow laugh from your mouth.

He chuckled lightly, and the sound shot a thrill through you. It was so rare to hear Bucky laugh, “Guess you have a point there. I’m hard to miss.”

You sighed internally, relieved that your somewhat picky line had worked. 

His hand was still resting on your shoulder, having caught you when you collided with him and kept you from falling. It felt warm and reassuring, in sharp contrast to the chaos in your mind. You couldn’t believe you were standing in front of a version of Bucky who wasn't burdened by the weight of years of HYDRA’s torment. 

A Bucky that was on the verge of becoming what he would inevitably turn out to be. 

“Uh, are you alright?” he inquired, tilting his head slightly, a hint of concern creasing his brow, and then it was then that you realized you had been staring at him for far too long, lost in contemplation.

You hurriedly averted your gaze, muttering, “Y-yeah, sorry.”

You tried to get by him and keep to your original plan of leaving the club. If letting Steve see you was a bad idea, talking to Bucky was far worse. But he gently grasped your upper arm as you were about to depart, turning your heels back to face him.

“C’mon, doll. You can’t leave me like that,” he said with a smile that never left his face. 

It was so odd to see him happy. Bucky rarely smiled these days, not that you could blame him given what he'd gone through. And now you couldn't get over how wonderfully beautiful he looked with a smile on his face.

“You owe me at least one dance.”

He offered his hand to you, and you knew you should have declined because it was a bad idea and may have long-term ramifications, but there was something about him that drew you in, even if reasoning told you to go. Your gaze darted between his outstretched hand and his boyish smile. 

“Just one dance?” 

“Just one,” he assured you, his voice smooth and soothing. “I promise.”

Your brain was shouting at you in every way conceivable, reminding you of the butterfly effect, the temporal paradox, and how just a few minutes before, you were attempting to flee to avoid any irreversible damage. 

However, you were not known for making sound decisions. 

Against your better judgment, you shut off your brain and placed your hand in his. His grip was firm as he guided you to the dance floor.

Here it goes, the third mistake of the night.

It was late when you walked into the hostel room, but Wanda was still up, perched on her bed like a mother waiting for her daughter to return from a late-night rendezvous. 

“Where have you been?” she demanded.

You bit your lower lip, a habit you developed when you were nervous. Wanda knew you like the palm of her hand, and one look at you told her something was up.

“What have you done?” Even though her voice sounded fatigued, it remained steady.

“I fucked up… again.”

Wanda raised an eyebrow, the twitch of her lips betraying a hint of empathy despite the sternness in her expression. “You know that’s not an answer, right?” she asked, sitting up straighter and folding her arms. “You’re going to have to give me more than that.”

You took a seat on the bed opposite to hers, fiddling with your hands as you struggled to find the right words to recount your evening to your friend.

His hands were on your back, with yours wrapped around his shoulders. You swayed

to the slow melody the band was playing as the soft notes filled the air.

“So, you know my name, but I don’t think I got yours.”

Giving him your real name was definitely not the most sensible idea, but at this point, you might as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb.

A smile formed on his lips as he tasted your name. “It suits you perfectly. Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” 

His unabashed flirting made you chuckle. You’d heard the stories from Steve about Bucky’s amazing luck with the ladies. But now that you had that man in front of you, his hand wrapped around your waist and dancing so close to you, you could see why so many women fell for him.

He really had a game.

His gaze remained fixed on you as you continued to dance to the music. He tightened his grip on your back and leaned in to get closer to you.

“How is it that I have never seen you around before?”

“I’m just passing by,” you simply stated, not technically lying to him. You still held hope that your friends were working on a way to bring you back home.

“Does that mean I’m not gonna see you again?” His voice sounded disappointed.

You peered into his deep blue eyes and felt the warmth of his gaze pulling you in. "Well, that depends," you replied playfully, a smile teasing your lips.

"Depends on what?" He prompted, tilting his head slightly as if hoping to catch a peek of the thoughts swirling behind your eyes.

You waited a few seconds to respond, weighing your words carefully. “Depends on whether you can convince me that it’s worth seeing you again.” 

Bucky chuckled, a low, rich tone that sent shivers down your spine. "I see how it is. A challenge, huh? I like a challenge," he replied, his grip firm but gentle as he drew you in closer, his heart beating steadily against yours.

The band shifted into a new song, one with a faster tempo, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he led you around the dance floor, expertly weaving between couples.

“Oh, do you? Or do you just like collecting pretty faces for your scrapbook?”

Bucky laughed, genuinely. “If that were the case, I'd have a whole wall dedicated to you by now." His forehead almost touching yours. “But I’m more interested in the stories behind the faces. What makes you… you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you stared back at him. The world around you faded away, and for that fleeting moment in the dance hall, it was just the two of you.

“So, what’s the real reason you’re just passing through?”

The question lingered in the air, and you hesitated. “Let’s just say I’m taking a little detour from my usual routine.”

“A detour?” His eyebrows raised in playful skepticism, and he leaned in again to keep the moment private. “You mean to tell me a girl like you doesn’t have a regular hustle?”

“Sometimes life has a funny way of making you take unexpected paths,” you said, your voice steady but playful enough to deflect the question without losing his attention.

“You should stick around these paths a little longer,” he suggested. “I have a feeling, if you do, you'd find more than just a dance.”

You searched his gaze, feeling the weight of his words linger in your head. “What if I don’t?” You asked, a touch of a challenge lacing your tone.

“Then I’ll just have to make sure I make every second count.” 

He brought one of the hands that were resting on your back to your face and gently caressed your face. Cupping your jaw, he stared into your eyes, silently asking for permission to close the small distance between you. 

When you did nothing to stop him, he leaned in closer, his eyelids fluttering shut as his lips brushed against yours. Bucky's lips were warm and surprisingly soft, coaxing you into the moment. Time seemed to stand still, the music around you fading into a background hum, and it felt as though the entire world had zeroed in on just the two of you.

His fingers curled gently around the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. You couldn’t help but smile against his lips. You wanted to hold onto this memory. This version of Bucky has only known you for a few hours, yet his kiss was more meaningful than any kiss you have experienced in past relationships. It was something you hadn’t realized you craved until now, so you let yourself get lost in the kiss.

And here it goes, the fourth mistake of the night.

“What the hell!” Wanda exclaimed your name, raising her voice at you. “Do you have any idea of what you have done?”

“I couldn’t help myself.” You ran your hand through your hair and exhaled sharply. “He was just—”

“Since when do you have feelings for Bucky?”

“I don’t!”

Wanda crossed her arms, her face one of incredulity and frustration. “Really? Because it sure doesn’t sound like it, and it certainly doesn’t look like it.”

“I swear, Wanda, it was just a moment!” You threw up your hands in exasperation. “A dance, a kiss… nothing more than that!”

You were not lying. You’d scarcely spoken to the man since Steve brought him to the compound. You knew nothing about him aside from the basic information that everyone else knew.

He was quiet, reticent, and brooding most of the time, with a heaviness that appeared to follow him like a shadow. He spent the majority of his time locked in his room. And the times he finally came out, he sought to remain out of everyone's way to avoid being a burden.

Wanda stepped closer, her green eyes narrowing as she studied your face for any signs of duplicity. “You don’t just dance and kiss someone like that. Especially not Bucky! You have no idea what that might signify in the future. Messing with the timeline like that... You really outdid yourself with this one."

“I didn't mean to! I didn’t plan it!” You ran your fingers through your hair again, pacing the small room. “You think I wanted to end up here, in the past, making a fool of myself over a guy I barely know?”

“It’s not just about you,” Wanda insisted. “What if he starts to feel something for you? What if he remembers this? You might end up erasing part of his past or—”

“Or what? It’s too late to take it back now,” you interrupted. "I know I screw up alright?"

Wanda’s shoulders fell slightly as she glanced at you, frustrated but concerned. “What did you do after you kissed him?”

You hesitated, the recollection returning in a maelstrom of emotions. “We just stood there for a moment, looking at each other. It felt like time stopped still.”

Wanda lifted an eyebrow, clearly still on edge. “And then?”

“And then I panicked!” You flung your hands up again, feeling the weight of the situation fall on you. “I wasn’t sure what to say! So I just… I pulled away and ran.”

[wordssoonforgotten]

I was wondering if you could do a jinx x either piltie reader or a reader that works for silco too where jinx falls HARD for this girl but readers oblivious so jinx has to make it very very obvious just some cutesyness

Jinx x Piltoveran!reader. Hope you like! Honestly one of my favorite things I’ve written so far. No content warnings. 735 words.

Jinx is so over Piltoverans.

In all honestly, she'd been over them since birth. It was simply the Zaunite way; but there was one she simply couldn't manage to hate lithe rest. You were like a guilty pleasure, except there was no guilt concerning how she felt at all. The pleasure you gave her was more rebellious than anything. However, that doesn't mean you didn't get on every single one of her nerves.

Jinx has been sneaking to see you for a year. It started as cat-like curiosity turned infatuation, but now, every time you so much as look at her a certain way, she feels herself teetering closer and closer to the edge; dangerously close to falling in love. It's new, exciting, and gives her that rush she thought was only possible from watching something explode. (It almost makes her wants to jump right off, just to see if you catch her.) Much to her annoyance, she wasn't sure if you felt the same way she did.

She likes to think she's making it stupid obvious; laying it on thick every time she comes to see you. With the way you just laugh at her, or simply don't pick up what she puts down, she's beginning to think she's not so good at all. It's either that, or you're infuriatingly slow for someone so smart.

For the second time this week, Jinx has weaseled her way through your window and made herself comfortable in your silky sheets. The two of you sit closely together on the bed as you recount every event of your day to her. You speak so softly that your voice almost gets lost with the wind. She uses it as an excuse to lean closer. Every few sentences, your eyes drift to your bedroom door, as if you expect someone to knocking it down any moment. Despite how long the two of you have gotten away with your late-night-rendezvous, you still get nervous. She tilts her mischievously. Her fingers crawl up shoulder and stop on your chin, turning your head to face her. You blush; but continue talking like normal.

That was her very last straw. She deserved more than simple a blush.

"Soooo….princess. Still not seeing anyone?" She keeps her voice light. Like she doesn't care about the answer at all. You raise your eyebrow at the seemingly out-of-the-blue question. "Not currently. Why?" Jinx smiles with false nonchalance

"Just kinda seemed like you would be by now."

"…Well I'm not."

"Are you interested in seeing someone?"

You snort and shrug your shoulders hopelessly. "Who would I even see?"

"Me." She answers immediately. Your brain short circuits and you just stare at her. For a second she thinks she's broken you, but then you very hesitantly narrow your eyes. "Are you..serious?" She barely manages to hold back a loud snort, but she nods quickly. "Very serious. Most serious I've ever been, actually." You nod slowly as if you're still processing her words so she continues. "I've been serious for a while now, you've just been too dense to notice." Playful frustration fills her tone as you suddenly become more alert. "A while!? How long is a while!?" She doesn't stop the chortle that erupts from her.

"Months."

"Months?!" You shout before quickly covering your mouth and glancing at the door. Once You're sure no one heard, you turn a fierce glare at her. "Why didn't you say anything?!" Now her brain short circuits. She looks at you in hysterical exasperation, shaking her head so quickly you're scared she'll get dizzy. "I've been very-obviously flirting for—this whole time!" You roll your eyes as your face begins to heat up. "Well you should've been clearer."

"I couldn't have been any clearer without tattooing it on my forehead!" She scoffs. "Typical dense, unaware pilties. Never noticing the extremely obvious truths right in front of their dumb faces—" She's cut off by your lips crashing into hers mid Piltover hating tirade. It doesn't take much for her to lean into it, her hands coming up to grip your hair. After a full minute of all but inhaling each other, she comes up for air. "Guess that means the feelings' mutual, huh?" You huff and give her a cheeky smirk.

"See how I made that obvious?"

She flips you off before pulling you back into another, harder kiss.

"I'll work on it."

[pearlessance]

hello! I just finished the newest part of cupids chokehold (a little late I know lol) and I was gonna gush in the reblogs but then I decided. no. this deserves a full message

I just wanted to let you know that it drove me crazy in the best and worst way possible. I was crying, tears streaming down my face, can’t breath from snot ok. the way you write is so beautiful and the way you characterize Tommy and write him just feels so correct and yet is so extremely heart breaking at the same time because HE DESERVES SO MUCH AND I LOVE HIM. my heart breaks for them every time I remember that their love and relationship are so unlikely to succeed in the long run even though they love and need each other so deeply

anyways your work is just so amazing and I have been loving the Tommy love suddenly popping up in the TLOU fandom as of recently

you’re amazing and I (platonically, non-parasocially) love you<3

omgggg i’m so glad you liked it!!! it means so much to me that you think i write tommy in an authentic way, i definitely try to and just for mentioning that....i love you back x1000000 MWAH

i have a lot to say about these two and about uncle tommy in general so....buckle up?? i'm not normal about this man!!!!

anyway i feel like tommy is a deeply insecure person tbh. like i think he's one of those people that would never admit it but he seeks his validation in the way people view him and he wants to be seen the way people see joel; as this honorable, provider archetype of man. (especially pre outbreak)

but tommy's also very impulsive and emotionally driven while joel is the opposite. which is why sometimes he makes these decisions that blow up in his face, because in hindsight they're bad, but in the moment it had felt like the right thing to do. his bad choices are almost always rooted with good intent.

and i think reader is the same in being impulsive and emotionally driven. and that's what draws them together in the beginning. they see the good intentions and understand each other in a way that no one else around them does. and tommy loves that part more than anything. the intimacy of being understood.

you view him in this raw, mirrored sort of way. and you love him even with all of his mess, and it's got him all sorts of fucked up because he never would've guessed something like that was possible.

i can't say whether they'll have a good ending or a bad one as i've not written that far yet and i usually let the story write itself as im working through it, but i can say that whatever happens uncle tommy is 100% certain that you're the "love of his life."

i think tommy was fully aware that there were only two outcomes to this since day one. but i also think really early on he'd decided for himself that it would be you or it would be no one.

[undomesticated-animal]

Some tags from @hyenaboycunt, @darethebrave, and @seimsisk that really cut to the quick of what I was trying to do here.

Tag Set #1

#absolutely love this piece#it took a moment for me to properly catch on since i dont think ive encountered written spanglish before#relevant linguistic background for me:#monolingual english speaker‚ 3 years of latin in HS‚ & familiar with pronunciation rules for spanish#plus a few friends/acquaintances who've spoken spanglish around me (but they're not consistently part of my life)#so i did the monolingual thing and focused on the obviously english paragraphs first#but once i grokked what i was looking at i started over#when reading English i dont really have an internal voice. i usually know the words and what they mean#(i sometimes completely miss out on written puns because of this‚ funny enough)#anyway. i started over. and i know the pronunciation rules but i dont have much experience reading spanish.#so i had to sound out a lot of it (internally) while i was reading.#and i was surprised by how much i understood when i could “hear” the words#even if i absolutely couldn't translate them.#and i did have to look to the english paragraphs for help of course‚ but less often than i expected#it's funny too that i was reminded of two people in my life who i hear speak like this. one is a friend's mother and i can HEAR the way#the way she says “mijo” to her son (my friend)#the other is a family friend I haven't thought of in YEARS but this writing has me hearing her voice and seeing her mannerisms so clearly.#I'm enamored with how actually thinking about the *sounds* both 1) made this exponentially more comprehensible to me#and 2) brought to mind the voices of family friends speaking to their children#it feels so very much like *home*#not my specific home. but it's something I've personally only heard spoken in places that *feel* like home.#really wonderful writing here Domi.#there's more thoughts churning but ironically words fail me. and tragically i dont have any other languages i can try

Tag Set #2

#i haven’t used my three years of high school spanish in quite a while#but what a linguistically fun reading challenge!#also a very good poem OP thank you for sharing#it was neat to catch the little differences between the paragraphs#art#poetry

Tag Set #3

#this sentence applies to all languages I think#everyone go read op's tags please#I do not speak Spanish but I can read it more of less fluently because I'm Brazilian and it just works like that#reading the spanglish versions felt so good#and I related to so much of it even if my circumstances are completely different#I have been through the experience of trying to date in English and it was such a mess#how to explain to a gringo the meaning of carinho? carente?

I had a really public meltdown a few months back because something happened during a date that made me realize I had slowly let my entire love life happen in English. And while I didn't [and still don't] feel like the answer is to demand that my partners learn Spanish in order to talk with me, I did realize that part of why I felt so thoroughly alienated from affection in my relationships is because it is in Spanish and Spanglish that I feel verbal care and affection. English feels....sterile and professional. Which is maybe a reasonable outcome of a world where "home" welcomes my polyglot behavior and "the rest of the world" gets irritated with me for requiring extra work of them to communicate.

It somehow never seems to occur to people that the work they dislike having to do for me will have to get done regardless, and what they are objecting to is literally my attempt to not carry and perform all of that work alone and unsupported in relationships that are meaningful to me.

That's a dynamic that's hard to vocalize to others unless they already internally recognize the experience and can pick up on it.

My partners still don't speak Spanish. But these days I do. Almost universally in my relationships, Spanish and Spanglish are verbalized markers of my feelings of intimacy, care, and trust in another. I use more over time as I become comfortable, I rely almost exclusively on common MexíCalí pet names and diminutives for partners, and the more relaxed/less rigidly self-managed I am, the more likely I am to simply reach for Spanglish first and foremost.

When I wrote this, I wrote the English paragraphs first. It took a little while, but it was doable because I use English A LOT in my professional and personal life obviously. Next I wrote the Spanish. This was harder. I have few people to keep up with, so I was anxious about mixing up my spelling, my grammar, my vowel modifiers, etc. I did a lot more checking and rechecking of my work to ensure that I was not misremembering my conjugations and grammatical structures.

I wrote the Spanglish last. I wrote it in under five minutes. I wrote it without once feeling the need to confirm my grammar or vocab. I wrote it and immediately felt it conveyed my tone and intention far better than either monolingual version. It was the closest thing I've ever felt to not having to "translate" my thoughts for someone else, and I spent a little time after just quietly having a cry about reaching my 30s before ever letting myself write the way I think, before letting myself trust my partners and loved ones with this part of me that is so integral to how it feels to be at home with another person.

I actually considered recording myself speaking the poem aloud because I agree with @hyenaboycunt that the way I write is meant to be read aloud, not read in one's mind, and there were several times reading it to myself that I realized reading it would lose something too. Several words where my accent and pronunciation was not the same as the language of the word itself, or where the blending went further than simply mixing and matching words within a sentence. I still might take a recording, we'll see. I really do think it's the next logical place for this art piece to go. But I also know that speaking is so raw and vulnerable to me, and while I would typically just have someone else do the recording, this is a circumstance where that wouldn't solve the issue at all. It has to be me. And ironically, that's what may end up limiting me from being able to do it. Yet again, my relationship with language being complicated creates barriers to communication that even *I* can barely recognize without real intentional thought. How can I expect others to see how much I do to be understood when I can barely admit it to myself?

En íngles, y otra vez in Spanish

No sé to describe mi relationship con mi lingua. Complicado, I suppose. No sé qué the words that will come en mi mente primary, y sometimes es difícil traducir between las idiomas. Creo que most people figure translation ser word-for-word, pero no es menos un pequeño here and there. Sometimes I look for las palabras exactamente por way too long y sientame abrumado. People act like eres estúpido if words are hard for you. Y adorame cual ser talking down a mi en bed, pero tiempo otros I get so angry when people decide no es importante para mi tiene tiempo enough communicarse. I don’t know how to describe my relationship with language. Complicated, I suppose. I never know which words will come to me first, and sometimes it’s hard to translate between languages. I think people expect translation to be word by word, but it so rarely is. Sometimes I search for the correct replacement word for way too long and it makes me feel so overwhelmed. People treat you like you’re stupid if you struggle with your words. And I like to be talked down to in bed, but the rest of the time it makes me so angry when people decide it’s not important for me to have the time to communicate properly. No sé cómo expressar mi social relación con la idioma. Quizás complicado. Nunca sé qué palabras vendrán primero a mi mente y, a veces, es difícil traducir entre los languajes. Creo que la mayoria de la gente se figurarán que la traducción sea palabra por palabra, pero raramente está. A veces trato de encontrar la palabra exacta durante demasiado tiempo y me poniendo abrumado. La gente actúa como si fueras estúpido si las palabras están costarían. Y adoro que me traten con condescendencia en la cama, pero si no me airado mucho cuando la gente decide que no es importante para mí tener tiempo para comunicarme. I wonder often how it feels hablar o necesitar solamente una idioma, y inglés at that. ¿Reconocéis how much nuestro uso de language changes how nos entendemos y our place aquí en es? I often wonder how it feels to only use or need one language, and English at that. Do people realize how much our language changes how we understand the world, our place in it? Me pregunto con frecuencia qué se siente hablar o necesitar solo una idioma, y ​ lo que es más, inglés. ¿Reconocéis todos de lo mucho que la idioma cambia nuestra comprensión del otros y nuestras relaciones sociales? La idioma es all about relationships. La forma de la palabra implies más y mucho about la context sociales en el que it’s spoken. Crecí con myriad trozos de significado in each sentence spoken. English feels desolado en momentos. ¿Cómo se dice mijita como en una chica que es carnal para mi con el tono solamente? En inglés, estan mucho emphasis en the meaning of body language and I imagine los otros rarely notice this. Maybe por eso I have such a bad time entender mi role para las vidas de mis quieridos. Menos Mamá, lo no tengo con que hablar Spanish. Pero maybe menos los diminutivos y verbalizacion de relationships sociales en nuestro day to day conversacion, no créo sé how to fill la falta. Quizás part of el problema conmigo y my understanding of non-verbal communicación, and I figure it out claro que si, pero I forget how often no es necesito hacer que.

Spanish is all about relationships. The shape of a word implies so much about the social context in which the word is being used to communicate. I grew up with so many layers of meaning in every sentence spoken. English feels almost desolate sometimes. How do you convey that you are calling someone baby girl with the love you have for family with only tone? There is so much weight put on non-verbal communication in English that I think people rarely notice. Maybe that’s why I have so much trouble understanding my role in the lives of my loved ones. Aside from my mother, no one I love speaks Spanish well enough to use it with me. But maybe without those little suffixes and verbalization of social relationships in our day to day conversation, I don’t know how to fill in the gaps left behind. Maybe some of the conflict in how others speak and how I hear their words is the absence. I’ve never been good at reading body language, and I surely figure it out in Spanish too, but I forget sometimes how many little spaces it isn’t necessary in my mother tongue. La idioma del espanol es una cuestión de relaciones. La forma de una palabra expresarse mucho del contexto social en el que se habla la palabra. Crecí con tantas trozos de significado en cada oraciónes hablado. La idioma del inglés es desolado por momentos. ¿Cómo se dice mijita como en una chica que es carnal para mi con el tono solamente? En inglés se pone mucho énfasis en el significado que expresa el cuerpo y imagino que los otros ven es raremente. Quizás por eso me resulta difícil comprender mi ubicación social en las vidas de mis queridos. Menos mi madre, nul de mis quieridos habla español con sultura para usarlo conmigo. Pero sin esos diminutivos y la charla sobre relaciones sociales en nuestras expresiones, no sé cómo llenar la falta. quizás un componente del problemo en cómo entiendo a los demás es la falta de contexto. Soy malo para interpretar el expressiones corporal, y también lo entiendo en español, claro que si, pero olvido que con frecuencia no es necesario en mi lengua materna. Me pregunta how it is por la gente del otra cara. ¿How is it to see how much más acepción there is anytime una palabra cambia en español? ¿What do you notice changing when leé lo que está escrito aquí? I wonder what that is like for people on the other side of the coin. How does it feel to realize how many componants of a single word can be changed in Spanish to convey meaning? What do you see change when you try to navigate my language? What was it like to read this post? Me pregunto cómo será eso para la gente del otro cara. ¿Cómo es ver los muchos pequeños cambios en una palabra que tienen significado? ¿Qué ves cuando intentas interpretar mi idioma? ¿Cómo fue leer lo esto obra? Some say a mi está buenísima that I lapse en el español during sex. Some react poorly when I cambio en medio idiomas. Otros no tienen any reaction at all. No creó sé what I want people entender para mi behavior. Yo sé quiero to be loved en mi context. I know this makes la spoken idioma un dificíl way para mi aceptar love. I wonder how entende��s conmigo. Sometimes people tell me it’s hot that I lapse into Spanish during sex. Sometimes people react with visible discomfort whenever I move between languages. Others don’t have any reaction at all. I don’t know how to convey to someone what meaning I want them to take from this behavior. I know that I want to be loved in my own context. I know that I cannot be loved in a context others lack. I know this makes language a difficult form of love for me to accept. I wonder how others would come to understand that about me.

Algunas personas me dicen que está buenísima que hablo español cuando folo. Algunos reaccionan en contra de con desasosiego cuando cambio en medio idiomas. Otros no tienen ninguna reacción. No sé cómo decir qué espero que interpreten de esta acción. Quiero ser quierido en mi propio contexto. Sé que no puedo ser quierido en un contexto de lo cual otros es falta. Es difícil para mí aceptar la idioma hablado como una forma de cariño porque que esto verdad. Me pregunto cómo los otros entienden eso de mí.

[zdechlyryba]

day 4 after finishing art school bro started willingly drawing realistic portraits💀

[samsblades]

so i have started a carl fic hehe <33 fics will be slow work most likely since i'm trying to spend lots of time hanging out with new people and exploring ofc but one needs downtime ofc so i've written a tiny bit!! it starts with carl saying "oh, fuck me" and reader muttering "i think i'd rather die," under their breath <3

[intromortal]

i think i've come up with three different jaywon threesome ideas in the last 24 hours i feel insane

[scribblestatic]

I like to think of a Lamb that, in the end, isn't vengeful.

All they want is a family.

Sure, they're a little idiotic (why do you want to eat poop, dear?) and can be intolerable at times (stop dissenting, I literally just wouldn't feed you poop) and they die too easily. And sure, they're the last sheep.

But they just don't want to hate anymore. They choose happiness because they feel better about it. They do feel regret and frustration and anger and loss. But deep-seated hatred is absent.

Perhaps Narinder calls them immature for maintaining these emotions as a god, but they're fine with it. Because of those emotions, they can choose to love with all their heart.

That's where I'm going with Lucy, tbh, but she's a little...

Well, she doesn't feel vengeful, but she does want to protect the new flock she's building. And to do that, she pursues power to an almost manic degree. And she lovebombs and coerces and drives herself to do heinous acts to anyone who betrays the trust she put in them, even if she doesn't want them to leave. Even if she clings to them. Feels the need to fix them.

She's a lil messed up, but she's got heart. She's also got more than one crown, so that's, er, a situation.

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Books of 2024: THE GREAT CITIES DUOLOGY by N. K. Jemisin.

[oplishin]

the bit from last week where seth got jey in a chokehold so he could draw out sami feels like seth denying all of both his and jey's character growth. and for this moment, at least, that's a very interesting thing to me. seth and jey don't really have a personal relationship- they did some loose team-ups in 2023, culminating in survivor series 2023 (and i have never been the same since). prior to SS '23, their relationship was mostly just "mutual ~friends~ of sami zayn," plus "oh dear god, let's not think about the roman parallels." it's a cordial alliance that gets sealed in when cody brings everyone together.

imo, survivor series 2023 + all the work cody did that year is crucial to the entire wrestlemania 40 storyline. cody dusts himself off after his loss at wrestlemania 39, and proves he's a good guy by inserting himself into all his friends' business and helping out. after the jey left the bloodline, cody was the one who first welcomed him to the raw roster. he helps sami fend off the judgment day; he's the one who finally convinces a reluctant seth to join their team. it's a nice little moment for everyone's character arcs- jey once again proves that he's worthy of trust and new friendships and that he doesn't have to live forever in roman's shadow. seth proves that he can function in a team, and he isn't that forever backstabber. it's like a soft launch of his wm 40 story.

so! all that being said! seth using jey as a tool to get to sami is sooo so fun. he basically denies jey that personhood and autonomy jey has striven for in the last two years- jey is nothing to him, a means to an end. whatever possible friendship they'd created doesn't matter anymore. and for seth, it's kind of a tragic backslide. to him, wrestlemania 40 was meant to be redemptive, proof that he could move on from his past and forge new bonds (the sethjey parallels rear their ugly head again). and after more than a year of realizing that no one will ever let him move on, he throws those relationships away again.

[crispycreambacon]

[Image Description in the Alt Text]

Ever wondered what happened to the puppets stuck in the Wondrium Arena?

So did the Professor and his meat shield/bestie westie, Ryan. Instead of waiting for an answer, they planned to get the puppets out of there. They even argued with God over it, or rather the Professor did since Ryan was too mentally out-of-it from the absolute absurdity of this situation.

And what did God give to them in return for winning the argument? A bus. To drive to the Wondrium Arena with. ‘Cause what better way to rescue a bunch of dead puppets than crashing a bus into their purgatory?

— ☆ —

I'm happy to announce the release of my first AO3 fanfic: Seatbelts, Everyone!

As you can see from the blurb above, it's a one-shot crackfic about the Professor and Ryan rescuing the puppets in the Wondrium Arena by crashing a bus into it. 'Cause why not?!

This fic has it all! We got:

Ryan learning how to drive a bus via WikiHow!

God being the absolute worst!

Silly puppet interactions!

Existential crises occuring throughout the fic!

An honestly heart-warming ending?

Y'all the line between silly jesting and sincere genuineness is so blurry in this fic. So if that all sounds like a jam of a time, you can read the fic via clicking here! Or clicking the title. Or searching up "Seatbelts, Everyone!" by crispycreambacon on AO3.

Thank you so much for checking it out! And even if you don't, I hope you enjoyed the comic. May you all have a fantabulous day!

[blorbologist]

Re-watching Calamity (for ~research~) and this time around Patia has really stood out to me. Of course Cerrit and Laerryn and Zerxes are showstoppers, but I decided to pay more mind to the other three members of the Ring of Brass, and just... Patia Por'co, guys. Patia Por'co.

Patia's relationship to what she knows (and does not know) is, I think, the pure distillation of knowledge is power.

She carries all her knowledge, all of Avalir's knowledge, with her, levitating, all this power at her fingertips. I think that there's something to be said with her about how generational power and knowledge are so often intertwined - children of alumni having easier access to the same academic leg up as their parents, knowing who to know, having the ins and outs of how this works handy. I don't believe any of the other members of the Ring of Brass come from backgrounds like this, and if not it's fitting that the only one that does is the one most tied to knowledge. On top of being an elf to boot, something which must amplify the consolidation of resources throughout the years.

[Shunting the rest under the cut bc oops this got Long]

I think it's interesting, too, how Patia seems extremely adept at navigating the lies and half-truths of Avalir's politics, yet reserves honesty for her friends. If someone lesser than they knows what they shouldn't, she will take that power away from them. On my relisten, I'd forgotten that one of the memories the Ring of Brass analyzes tries to throw Patia under the bus, and how quickly she shows Nidas memories proving that she did as right by him as she could. And the reveal that she and Zerxes tried to bring back Evandrin, and upon the failure she removed the painful memory at his request.

(Mechanically, too; as a wizard, her knowledge literally is her power. That's the wizard thing, baby, and if Laerryn exemplifies a wizard whose INT is intellectual skill/problem-solving, then Patia is probably INT as memory. Streetsmart and booksmart besties. Also revealing herself to goad Dean Hollow into popping back in, only to immediately Sphere her and cause the bitch to get eaten by her own spell? Maybe that's a stretch of my 'knowledge is power' bit, but it's too fucking cool of a moment not to remind you of it.)

The first time she died, it was for knowledge. Touching the Tree of Names, and she never did let it go (would she, if she could have?). When she died - that first time - did she meet the Raven Queen?

Patia's direct tie to quite possibly the second-most knowledgeable being in the Exandrian mythos (behind Ioun, but I'd argue you know a lot to handle fate and death, on top of being a wizard in life) feels very deliberate to me. The Raven Queen, the mage who did what no other could (except Vecna a long-ass time later, and only for like a day or two), was at least a contemporary. Perhaps a teacher, or mentor, or admired idol. And now Patia can't even remember her name.

It's funny how much knowledge was actually taken from Patia, between that name and her parents'. Just as she removed knowledge from others. No matter how powerful you get, even with a protective ring, you are always at the mercy of your predecessors. What they chose to do with knowledge. And what Patia chooses to do, now.

In her last moment alone, she relates this knowledge to selfishness. Her grandfather's decision to make a city fly because he and others could. The Gau Drashari's decision to keep all information about the Tree of Names secret. While I disagree with her a bit, it really rounds out knowledge is power - because it's hoarded, it's made a tool for selfishness and control. And Patia acknowledges it likely always will be selfish, but for now at least she can break this cycle.

She breaks Avalir, the model of it her grandfather holds, and sends the Librarium with all the knowledge she carries to Maya.

(I'll note that Maya probably doesn't know what the orb is or does, so sending the model library is a great way to help get that message across, too, on top of the meaning of the moment.)

When it comes time to send all of Avalir's knowledge away, it's not some mage acquaintance from another city she sends it to. Hells - she doesn't even teleport herself out, with it, to ensure its protection and proper use. She sends it to a child, a teenager, the daughter of her friend. Someone with no power, who will have nothing but her family in the Calamity. I can't quite pin down why she choose Maya. Because a teenager is innocent, uncorrupted by power? Because she wanted to give the family of her friend leverage, knowledge to rebuild, a fighting chance?

There's so much Patia did not live to know. She points it out herself that she never found love, or became a parent, all for the sake of Avalir, for knowledge, for power. To maintain the legacy that preceded her. Excellent DMing on Brennan's part to take the quiet moment, as the sphere is sent to Maya, to then put Patia in the place of a child, one robbed of the knowledge of who her parents even were.

And yet. As she sends all she has ever known away, she still reaches for it. Almost wants it back. Almost.

Her story begins and ends with a wish: happy Replenishment, grandfather. And on that fateful day, in place of the stolen tithe she and Laerryn and Nidas have been shuffling around the city, she gives her life to save the world. and she gives away the knowledge to rebuild it.

And there's nothing else she needs to know.

IDK. I think we should talk about Patia more.

[byanyan]

okay. okay. it is done.

lmk if you see anything weird or think something should be written better!! also blanket content warning on the bio bc there's a lot of heavy fuckin stuff in there, though it is all marked (i think. hmu if i missed smth). same goes for the timeline but that's all written more matter-of-fact and less detailed so i just slapped a cw at the very top of the page

[nethhiri]

Marooned: Chapter 6

Kid x FemReader x Killer

Warnings: Light Smut, NSFW, Minors DNI (as always)

Innopportune Timing

Out of the kindness of your heart, you let Kid and Killer sleep in your treehouse. First, you had wrapped up your more important items into a big leaf, mostly so that Kid wouldn't go through your shit, but if you were leaving this island soon, you would have to pack it up anyway. There were only a few items you wanted to take with you, one of which being your gun. It was fairly unique and you had made it yourself a long time ago, with some improvements since then. It was essentially a double-barreled revolver, set into an over-sized hunting knife. The blade was nestled right between the two barrels. Actually, you were fairly certain you had it with you when you encountered the newly-minted Kid Pirates. See, the cool thing about it was that you could hold the blade to someone's neck and have someone else at gunpoint at the same time. Which is exactly how you had gotten the best of your two friends at the time, Killer under your blade and Kid in your sights. You had sea prism stone built into it, otherwise Kid would have made quick work of you. Much like now, your observation haki sucked though and the next thing you remembered after that was waking up in a med bay with a head injury. It had probably been long enough that they'd forgotten about it. They'd probably been in much more memorable scuffles since then. Still, you didn't plan on showing it off any time soon. 

Killer was able to take the little tincture you had created for him and had quickly fallen asleep. With both of them in the treehouse, there was very little room to move. You had taken your things and put them on the roof, where you had slept. Occasionally you would sleep there of your own volition just to watch the stars. The leaves that made up the roof weren't that uncomfortable to be honest. You didn't hear Killer cough once during the night. That was good. You really didn't want to use your devil fruit. It took a lot of energy from you and you still hadn't completely figured it out yet. Especially with sharing your resources, you didn't have the energy to spare. Just because Killer was quiet, didn't mean you had slept well. Kid had an awful snoring problem. The Kid Pirates are having the best sleep of their lives right now. That's probably why they haven't tried to find their bastard of a captain yet.

The following day, you went about your normal routine and left them to themselves. The little dose of human interaction felt unfamiliar and combined with being cranky from lack of sleep, you wanted time alone. You walked along the beach, picking some non-poisonous fruits and snacking as you looked out at the horizon. Squinting, you tried to make out any sign of a ship. Nothing. Every now and then you could hear branches being snapped near the edge of the jungle. Seemed like Mini was hoping to scavenge your scraps. The beach had nothing to offer except for several semi-recognizable blue or white pieces. Killer's helmet. Finding more of them occupied the majority of your time until the sky started turning orange. If you found enough of them, you might be able to fix it. Technically, he owed you enough already at this point, but you genuinely did enjoy fiddling with and putting things together again. 

Returning to your treehouse, you put the fragments with your other things and checked on Killer again. You saw where Kid had at some point collected things that looked edible. Appraising the pile, you tossed about three quarters of the stuff out the hatch of the treehouse. Well, if he ate any of that, he's probably busy shitting out in the woods. You shook your head. He doesn't learn. Sighing, you made sure Killer was fine for the time being, and made your way back out of the treehouse. 

For some reason you couldn't shake this 'off' feeling you had and your feet had taken you to the spring. It was your happy place, offering some calming, meditative setting. I guess I could go for a dip. You couldn't swim, courtesy of your devil fruit, but this wasn't salt water and the water was only chest deep. The sound of the small waterfall that fed into the pool was always nice to listen to and the coolness of the water felt refreshing on your skin after a long day in the hot sun. Wading into the water, the shirt-dress you wore was quickly tossed to the side. You dipped your head under the trickling water falling from the overhead rocks and attempted to detangle your hair with your fingers. After you were satisfied with your work, you rubbed the dirt from your skin until you felt as clean as you were going to get without a real shower. You floated on your back and watched the sky turn pink-purple for a while, while the dripping and gentle splashing soothed you. Wading to the edge, you rested your head in your arms crossed over the still-sun-warmed rocks bordering the water. At some point you were lulled into a light sleep.

Your eyes opened at the sound of violently rustling leaves. Soft moonlight soon illuminated the Red Menace bursting forth to ruin your peace. You didn't move from where you rested but let out a groan.

"AND WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YA BEEN ALL DAY?"

You lifted your head and gave him an annoyed look. Who are you? My dad? "You missed me that much? I'm flattered," you sarcastically replied. You went back to being unbothered, laying on crossed arms and letting your eyes close. You missed the light tint of pink that dusted Kid's features, not that you could have seen it anyway in the dark.

"NO. I thought ya were going to bring back food! I had to find myself a bunch of shitty berries!"

"Proud of you," you grumbled. You heard him growl in frustration, surely trying to think of something slick to jab at you. When you continued hearing silence, you thought maybe he stalked off. To your horror, you started hearing the muffled plop of fabric on dirt and the clinking of buckles being undone. "The fuck do you think you're doing?" The change in pitch towards the end of your question was the only thing that betrayed your slight alarm. You didn't look towards him, partially because you didn't want to give him the satisfaction and partially because you were afraid you might like what you saw. Goosebumps crawled down your skin as you tried not to imagine what he looked like. 

"Ya forget who yer talkin' to, girlie." There was a shift in the water as Kid stepped in. "I do whatever I want." And right now Kid wanted to cool off some of his frustration that he was still stuck here. As a bonus, Kid wanted to fluster you. It was amusing to him and he wanted a distraction from this predicament. Distraction, at the moment, came in the form of the bare skin of your lean-muscled back. How easy it was to imagine it pressed into the black, silky sheets of his bed...

Girlie. Heat rose to your face. Ew, why do I like that?  Splashes alerted you to Kid's presence at the opposite side of the pool. A relieved breath left your chest. You thought he would place himself uncomfortably close to you. Sinking lower in the water, you slowly turned to face him. An eyebrow quirked up as you took in the sight before you. His scarlet hair was plastered to his forehead and his eyes burned a dark orange. Pale, muscular arms, well an arm and one-fifth of an arm, were stretched on either side of him as he leaned against the edge. You accidentally caught his gaze and frowned when a smirk spread across his features. 

"Couldn't resist turning around I see." Kid wished you would sit up just a little more. The tops of your breasts were dangerously close to breaching the water's surface. 

"Oh fuck off. I can see you trying to manifest the power to see through water." Even with your scars, you had no lack of self-confidence. That being said, you hadn't gotten a look in a proper mirror, only reflections in the water, so you only had a vague idea of their extent. But, you were highly sought-after before this life, and the cockiness from that lingered. "Glad I can only see out of one eye. I don't have to expose both retinas to your ugly ass." It almost pained you to lie. Almost. The competitive side of you took over and you were determined to win this battle of wills.  

Kid snickered. "Killer's told me I've a fine ass actually." Amber eyes wandered over the parts of you that Kid could see. The moonlight reflected a soft silvery light where it touched your scars. It reminded Kid of the way moonlight reflects off ocean waves. Kid was no stranger to scars or disfigurement. It didn't bother him in the least. Especially since he could tell you wore it with purpose, the badge of a fighter. "I might be inclined to show ya if ya beg."

"Me? Begging?" You scoffed. "I didn't even beg for my life when this happened." You angrily gestured to the ruined side of your face. Fuck you revealed too much, you dumbass. You bit your cheek to cut yourself off from saying anything more. 

His eyes widened for a moment. Kid didn't expect that. He wondered how far he could pry. This started as a little fun game but he genuinely wanted to know your backstory. There were obviously a lot of pieces to it and you seemed to be hiding them purposefully. "What happened?" He asked bluntly. Kid wasn't one to beat around the bush. 

You let out an irked huff. "Don't." What business did he have trying to get to know you? At the most you would be a passenger for a week or two and then you would fuck right off to tie up some loose ends. Since you had been alone between when it happened and now, you didn't realize how poorly you would react at being asked about it. You mentally kicked yourself for opening up the door to this line of questioning.

"Ya don't have to be shy with m-," Kid started to tease.

"I said LEAVE IT." Your prior life as a captain led you back into the habit of issuing commands. As you said it, you had lunged forward and pushed a wall of water towards him. It was pretty childish to splash someone, but your temper was known to get the better of you. Great, now he's probably going to drown me. You retreated back a few steps.

Kid wiped the water out of his eyes, with a wicked smile. "Yer a rotten little brat, ain't ya?" Kid stalked forward. He took great pleasure watching you shrink backwards. 

Before you had the chance to do anything, his hand shot out towards you. Where you anticipated to be hit or grabbed, a cold sheet of water hit you. Holding your arms up defensively didn't do much to block the water from going up your nose. In a fit of coughing, you lashed out again but this time was weaker, since the coughing devolved into half-giggles. This was so stupid. I'm having a fucking splash fight with Eustass Kid. 

This went back and forth a few more times. You were... having fun? Simultaneously you were trying to get the water out of your good eye and blindly splashing towards where you thought he was. An iron grip closed around the wrist trying to get him wet. You had finally cleared your vision and your now-free hand attempted to pry his fingers from your wrist. "Fine! I'm rotten. Are you happy?" You were still half-heartedly laughing. Something burned in your lower abdomen. Oh. That was a feeling you had nearly forgotten. It only got worse when he turned you to face him. 

There was the wicked smile again. "No." Kid tugged you closer until he felt your free hand splayed out on his chest to keep some distance between the two of you. "As the winner, I believe I'm owed a prize." 

Yanking your hand back to no avail, you glared up at him. You wanted to take back your other hand too, but you didn't want him to pull you flush against him. Maybe I do. You cursed the basic human needs of your body for causing your will to falter. Sliding your hand further up his chest, you hooked it around his tree trunk of a neck, giving a little tug to make him lean down. You wouldn't give Kid the chance to make the first move. This was going to be on your terms and your terms only. Kid barely gave you resistance, and it was probably only because he was shocked you didn't fight him on it. 

The second your lips met, your wrist was released and you felt his palm press into the small of your back, forcing you to be pressed up against him. You growled out of annoyance, though it certainly sounded like something else to him. Fuck it. You nudged him towards the shallower area where he could sit and still be partly submerged, sliding your tongue into his mouth while you did it. Pushing him down, you were semi-straddled over him. The kiss was broken only when you both had to stop for air, panting. 

"One hand isn't enough," Kid mumbled into the skin of your neck. His hand alternated between grabbing your ass and titties, which were just as soft as he wanted them to be. 

You let out a low laugh. "That's funny... I was thinking the same thing." You could feel his cock against the inside of your thigh. It was befitting of the giant man under you. In other circumstances, this would be considered romantic, an island oasis under the moonlight. The burning feeling at your core was only getting more intense. Your fingers grasped at his red locks as you kissed him again, letting out a satisfied moan when he bit your lip and moved to do the same thing to your neck. 

Both of your heads snapped towards a chorus of whistles and cheers. "Alright, Captain!" "Any more where she came from?" "Hey, where's Killer?" 

Your eyes flicked to Kid. His face was as red as his hair. Not with embarrassment obviously. Just anger.

"OF ALL THE FUCKIN TIMES TO SHOW YER SORRY ASSES!" Kid smoothly bucked you off of him so that he could remove himself from the water. He snatched his clothes, tossing your shirt closer to you when he came across it. "ONE OF YA IS GONNA SUCK MY FUCKIN COCK TO MAKE UP FOR IT." He stormed over to the group and demanded to be taken to the ship. 

The group of mostly men weren't deterred by Kid's yelling. They were gathered around him asking if he was fine and about Killer. While they were focused on him, you lifted yourself out of the water and threw your clothes on. So much for ending your dry spell. 

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