#which did include the very cool line

[fox-mulder-gets-pegged]

Proud to announce that instead of just writing 7 sentences, as that's how many votes the winner got, I instead wrote 20 sentences since it got 20% of the votes 💅

My demons continue to hunt me and today they took the form of a writing game tag and won!

Rule is make a 24 hour poll with your WIPs, then write one sentence for each vote the winner gets. Tagged by @fembutchboygirl

For fic references, my ao3 is Tide_Pod_Juul_03 tho not all these are on ao3 yet.

Tagging: I don't actually know rly anyone on here who writes so if u write and u see this I'm tagging you!

[ktempestbradford]

I have been on a Willy Wonkified journey today and I need y'all to come with me

It started so innocently. Scrolling Google News I come across this article on Ars Technica:

At first glance I thought what happened was parents saw AI-generated images of an event their kids were at and became concerned, then realized it was fake. The reality? Oh so much better.

On Saturday, event organizers shut down a Glasgow-based "Willy's Chocolate Experience" after customers complained that the unofficial Wonka-inspired event, which took place in a sparsely decorated venue, did not match the lush AI-generated images listed on its official website.... According to Sky News, police were called to the event, and "advice was given."

Thing is, the people who paid to go were obviously not expecting exactly this:

But I can see how they'd be a bit pissed upon arriving to this:

It gets worse.

"Tempest, how could it possibly--"

source of this video that also includes this charming description:

Made up a villain called The Unknown — 'an evil chocolate maker who lives in the walls'

There is already a meme.

Oh yes, the Wish.com Oompa Loompa:

Who has already done an interview!

As bad (and hilarious) as this all is, I got curious about the company that put on this event. Did they somehow overreach? Did the actors they hired back out at the last minute? (Or after they saw the script...) Oddly enough, it doesn't seem so!

Given what I found when poking around I'm legit surprised there was an event at all. Cuz this outfit seems to be 100% a scam.

The website for this specific event is here and it has many AI generated images on it, as stated. I don't think anyone who bought tickets looked very closely at these images, otherwise they might have been concerned about how much Catgacating their children would be exposed to.

Yes, Catgacating. You know, CATgacating!

I personally don't think anyone should serve exarserdray flavored lollipops in public spaces given how many people are allergic to it. And the sweet teats might not have been age appropriate.

Though the Twilight Tunnel looks pretty cool:

I'm not sure that Dim Tight Twdrding is safe. I've also been warned that Vivue Sounds are in that weird frequency range that makes you poop your pants upon hearing them.

Yes, Virginia, these folks used an AI image generator for everything on the website and used Chat GPT for some of the text! From the FAQ:

Q: I cannot go on the available days. Will you have more dates in the future? A: Should there be capacity when you arrive, then you will be able to enter without any problems. In the event that this is not the case, we may ask you to wait a bit.

Fear not, for this question is asked again a few lines down and the answer makes more sense.

Curious about the events company behind this disaster, I took myself over to the homepage of House of Illuminati and I was not disappointed.

I would 100% trust these people to plan my wedding.

This abomination of a website is a badly edited WordPress blog filled with AI art and just enough blog posts to make the casual viewer think that it's a legit business for about 0.0004 seconds.

Their attention to detail is stunning, from how they left up the default first post every WP blog gets to how they didn't bother changing the name on several images, thus revealing where they came from. Like this one:

With the lovely and compact filename "DALL·E-2024-01-30-09.50.54-Imagine-a-scene-where-fantasy-and-reality-merge-seamlessly.-In-the-foreground-a-grand-interactive-gala-is-taking-place-filled-with-elegant-guests-i.png"

"Concept.png" came from the same AI generator that gets text almost, but not quiiiiiite right:

There are a suspicious number of .webp images in the uploads, which makes me think they either stole them from other sites where AI "art" was uploaded or they didn't want to pay for the hi-res versions of some and just grabbed the preview image.

The real fun came when I noticed this filename: Before-and-After-Eventologists-Transformation-Edgbaston-Cricket-Ground-1024x1024-1.jpg and decided to do a Google image search. Friends, you will be shocked to hear that the image in question, found on this post touting how they can transform a boring warehouse into a fun event space, was stolen from this actual event planner.

Even better, this weirdly grainy image?

From a post that claims to be about the preparations for a "Willy Wonka" experience (we'll get to this in a minute), is not only NOT an actual image of anyone preparing anything for Illuminati's event, it is stolen from a YouTube thumbnail that's been chopped to remove the name of the company that actually made this. Here's the video.

If you actually read the blog posts they're all copypasta or some AI generated crap. To the point where this seems like not a real business at all. There's very specific business information at the bottom, but nothing else seems real.

As I said, I'm kinda surprised they put on an event at all. This has, "And then they ran off with all our money!" written all over it. I'm perplexed.

And also wondering when the copyright lawyers are gonna start calling, because...

This post explicitly says they're putting together a "Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory Experience" complete with golden tickets.

Somewhere along the line someone must have wised up, because the actual event was called "Willys Chocolate Experience" (note the lack of apostrophe) and the script they handed to the actors about 10 minutes before they were supposed to "perform" was about a "Willy McDuff" and his chocolate factory.

As I was going through this madness with friends in a chat, one pointed out that it took very little prompting to get the free Chat GPT to spit out an event description and such very similar to all this while avoiding copyrighted phrases. But he couldn't figure out where the McDuff came from since it wasn't the type of thing GPT would usually spit out...

Until he altered the prompt to include it would be happening in Glasgow, Scotland.

You cannot make this stuff up.

But truly, honestly, I do not even understand why they didn't take the money and run. Clearly this was all set up to be a scam. A lazy, AI generated scam.

Everything from the website to the event images to the copy to the "script" to the names of things was either stolen or AI generated (aka stolen). Hell, I'd be looking for some poor Japanese visitor wandering the streets of Glasgow, confused, after being jacked for his mascot costume.

HE LIVES IN THE WALLS, Y'ALL.

[mandatory-blog-stop-asking]

deltarune spoilers I wanna talk about chapter 4 below is a pretty mundane theory about the knight's identity and their role in the narrative

Just writing some unimportant stuff in this line because Tumblr sucks and sometimes doesn't care about the break anyway let's go

I'm pretty sure at this point (and thus am probably wrong) that the Knight is Dess Holiday, but also that Dess was the original girl hero in the trio that's supposed to save the world.

First thing that catches my eye is the difference between what Ralsei tells us the prophecy is like, and actually seeing the prophecy for real in the church.

In Ralsei's version, this is how the monster looks like.

This is important because this is pretty clearly Susie. It's a dinosaur-like monster that wields an axe.

This is a depiction that comes up later; in Chapter 2 we see it in Queen's Castle, as a statue Susie can steal for her bedroom. Consider that Queen does not know about these things and is just adjusting and recreating things that people look up online, and that she knows about the protagonists. By and large she's probably just copying Ralsei's notes.

However, when we go to the Dark Sanctuary, we learn a couple of interesting things--

Ralsei is not telling the whole prophecy, and is in fact paraphrasing it for pacing and length.

Save for Ralsei, those are not the original symbols of the heroes.

This is how the hero looks:

Notice that instead of showing Kris, it's showing the player, the SOUL. It's a very specific difference; Kris is the cage and is included in the text, but the implication of showing the actual SOUL instead of them makes the prophecy ring a lot different.

The second hero, however, looks like this:

It's fun that they don't even call her a monster, just a girl, which could always mean some wild shit we don't know yet, but let's focus on the symbol-- if memory serves, this is the ACT symbol. For example, you can get this symbol on Kris's battle HUD if you call for Genson in the Dark Sanctuary:

It also looks a lot like Susie's Rude Buster, but not like the Rude Buster symbol, which is a magical flame.

Either way, then we go a bit further and get to the main point I'm trying to make:

That's not Susie.

Susie doesn't wield a sword. She has never wielded a sword. She has an axe.

The axe is so Susie's weapon that it materializes no matter what she's holding. It came pre-packed with her Dark World form, it's not something she chose-- she even has dialogue about how she doesn't know why she's carrying an axe, but, hey, axes are cool.

I believe this is supposed to be Dess, Noelle's older sister, for a few reasons

She's obviously a very important character who is absent, missing in such a way that has caused hurt on every character. We're shown that she's the first one to "leave" during Tenna's flashback to how it used to be in the Dreemurr/Holiday get-togethers, and her absence is deeply felt by everyone involved whenever her name comes up.

She's described as strong, incredibly cool, and overall the kind of person who would be a hero.

In conversations, Noelle mentions that Dess would hit Kris with a wiffle bat when they would lie to her until they stopped. Obviously two different weapon types, but a bat and a sword are a lot more like each other than a sword and an axe-- at least in how you hold it!

The rest of the Hero Girl prophecy mentions she would find love-- while Susie is obviously in love with Noelle, Dess is also pretty clearly flirting or secretly dating Asriel.

That's part one of the theory, part two is that instead of becoming one of the heroes, something happened to her (which seems to have involved a sacrifice?) that made it so that instead of becoming one of the three heroes, she became the Roaring Knight instead. Evidence for the Knight being Dess (as opposed to, say, Carol) is:

The Knight has antlers, the most obvious signifier that they're a Holiday. But also, did you notice what the sword looks like when the Knight summons it?

IT LOOKS LIKE A BAT. BAM BIG REVEAL MASSIVE PAYOFF. YOU THOUGHT I WAS STRETCHING BACK THERE. YOU THOUGHT I DIDN'T HAVE A PLAN. YOU'RE ALL STUCK IN HERE WITH ME.

Anyway the Knight also:

Attacks with stars -- like Christmas stars, above Christmas trees.

The Knight is horrifying-- and Dess was really into horror movies. She's in fact the reason why Noelle is into creepy things, even if they do genuinely frighten her.

The Knight is not physical-- it can obviously turn into a ball to fly around, but more important than that, it turns into pure static when you actually attack it. Garbage noise.

It almost looks like the Knight is some kind of distortion, like a hologram.

And then, one final thing related to both of these characters that I think is what's actually missing to understand what's going on between the Dreemurrs and the Holidays:

During Chapter 3, you can play the "real version" of a game Tenna has modified to be easier and more direct. In it, you control Kris, who goes through the game world doing a No Mercy run on enemies, then on their own friends, finally ending with a dungeon run where you slaughter a lot of monsters and flowers. This eventually rewards you with the Shadow Mantle you need to defeat the Knight. (if you're not a god and can perfectly dodge everything, that is)

In one of these, you encounter a different kind of enemy that has no equivalent in any other room. There's this thing that copies your movements, in a dark chamber.

If you go into the game's files, you can actually not only find out what this is, you can also lighten up this room.

It's a black deer.

This is probably the most direct reference to the Knight being a deer in the game (even if it's just in the files), but the final piece, the thing that actually makes me lose my mind, is the fact that there is actually a variable that turns the actual model into the "monster" you fight in this room. This variable is only used here. When you walk into the room, the variable turns to true, and the deer becomes the room's enemy.

The variable's name?

Toriel turns her into a monster.

So, here's my attempt at making sense of it all:

Dess was supposed to be one of the three heroes, wielding her bat as a sword.

Asgore and Toriel have something to do with whatever happened with Dess. Whatever they did tore apart their relationship with the Holidays, and their own marriage.

Whatever happened to Dess has been weaponized and whatever's left of her has become the Roaring Knight.

Susie's reaction to the final bit of prophecy likely has to do with someone dying by the hands of the Hero Girl, which she correctly points out would never happen in their specific group.

And she's right. It wouldn't. Because she's not the hero girl.

This also means Susie's going at this hero thing completely unaided by prophecy, 100% stoked on hopes and dreams, because she's the best. You can check out a video exploring more of the deer situation here.

now i know what you're thinking

if the hero is dess, why doesn't the church mural have antlers?

and the answer

might surprise you

OH SHIT A DOG

anyway that was it go away

[phantomrose96]

The conversation around AI is going to get away from us quickly because people lack the language to distinguish types of AI--and it's not their fault. Companies love to slap "AI" on anything they believe can pass for something "intelligent" a computer program is doing. And this muddies the waters when people want to talk about AI when the exact same word covers a wide umbrella and they themselves don't know how to qualify the distinctions within.

I'm a software engineer and not a data scientist, so I'm not exactly at the level of domain expert. But I work with data scientists, and I have at least rudimentary college-level knowledge of machine learning and linear algebra from my CS degree. So I want to give some quick guidance.

What is AI? And what is not AI?

So what's the difference between just a computer program, and an "AI" program? Computers can do a lot of smart things, and companies love the idea of calling anything that seems smart enough "AI", but industry-wise the question of "how smart" a program is has nothing to do with whether it is AI.

A regular, non-AI computer program is procedural, and rigidly defined. I could "program" traffic light behavior that essentially goes { if(light === green) { go(); } else { stop();} }. I've told it in simple and rigid terms what condition to check, and how to behave based on that check. (A better program would have a lot more to check for, like signs and road conditions and pedestrians in the street, and those things will still need to be spelled out.)

An AI traffic light behavior is generated by machine-learning, which simplistically is a huge cranking machine of linear algebra which you feed training data into and it "learns" from. By "learning" I mean it's developing a complex and opaque model of parameters to fit the training data (but not over-fit). In this case the training data probably includes thousands of videos of car behavior at traffic intersections. Through parameter tweaking and model adjustment, data scientists will turn this crank over and over adjusting it to create something which, in very opaque terms, has developed a model that will guess the right behavioral output for any future scenario.

A well-trained model would be fed a green light and know to go, and a red light and know to stop, and 'green but there's a kid in the road' and know to stop. A very very well-trained model can probably do this better than my program above, because it has the capacity to be more adaptive than my rigidly-defined thing if the rigidly-defined program is missing some considerations. But if the AI model makes a wrong choice, it is significantly harder to trace down why exactly it did that.

Because again, the reason it's making this decision may be very opaque. It's like engineering a very specific plinko machine which gets tweaked to be very good at taking a road input and giving the right output. But like if that plinko machine contained millions of pegs and none of them necessarily correlated to anything to do with the road. There's possibly no "if green, go, else stop" to look for. (Maybe there is, for traffic light specifically as that is intentionally very simplistic. But a model trained to recognize written numbers for example likely contains no parameters at all that you could map to ideas a human has like "look for a rigid line in the number". The parameters may be all, to humans, meaningless.)

So, that's basics. Here are some categories of things which get called AI:

"AI" which is just genuinely not AI

There's plenty of software that follows a normal, procedural program defined rigidly, with no linear algebra model training, that companies would love to brand as "AI" because it sounds cool.

Something like motion detection/tracking might be sold as artificially intelligent. But under the covers that can be done as simply as "if some range of pixels changes color by a certain amount, flag as motion"

2. AI which IS genuinely AI, but is not the kind of AI everyone is talking about right now

"AI", by which I mean machine learning using linear algebra, is very good at being fed a lot of training data, and then coming up with an ability to go and categorize real information.

The AI technology that looks at cells and determines whether they're cancer or not, that is using this technology. OCR (Optical Character Recognition) is the technology that can take an image of hand-written text and transcribe it. Again, it's using linear algebra, so yes it's AI.

Many other such examples exist, and have been around for quite a good number of years. They share the genre of technology, which is machine learning models, but these are not the Large Language Model Generative AI that is all over the media. Criticizing these would be like criticizing airplanes when you're actually mad at military drones. It's the same "makes fly in the air" technology but their impact is very different.

3. The AI we ARE talking about. "Chat-gpt" type of Generative AI which uses LLMs ("Large Language Models")

If there was one word I wish people would know in all this, it's LLM (Large Language Model). This describes the KIND of machine learning model that Chat-GPT/midjourney/stablediffusion are fueled by. They're so extremely powerfully trained on human language that they can take an input of conversational language and create a predictive output that is human coherent. (I am less certain what additional technology fuels art-creation, specifically, but considering the AI art generation has risen hand-in-hand with the advent of powerful LLM, I'm at least confident in saying it is still corely LLM).

This technology isn't exactly brand new (predictive text has been using it, but more like the mostly innocent and much less successful older sibling of some celebrity, who no one really thinks about.) But the scale and power of LLM-based AI technology is what is new with Chat-GPT.

This is the generative AI, and even better, the large language model generative AI.

(Data scientists, feel free to add on or correct anything.)

[butterflys-corner]

𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝗳𝗮𝗿.. ♤

Summary: The monster trio took your lovers' quarrel just a tad bit too far, leaving you to cool off alone. Until you weren't. [Warnings: Swearing, arguing, established relationships, hurtful words, mentions of kidnapping, angst and sad parts!]

Luffy

Your romance with Luffy was never simple. That's what you liked about it.

One day was a lazy nap here and there, sharing snacks together and an occasional game of tag you supervised. Others were full of adventures with your energetic captain, you and one of the others along side him as he explored a new island.

But today was no such casual day.

For weeks now, you along with the other Straw Hats sailed closer and closer to an uncharted island. Nami, Miss Navigator herself, has never heard of an island being here, but her log pose pointed toward it. So onward you went.

The closer you got, the worse everyone felt.

Luffy was more tired and annoyed, Zoro more unfocused, Nami growing evermore well.. bitchy. Robin and Franky alike argued themselves, Chopper growing more antsy under the constant bickering. Usopp and Brook seemed more skittish if it were possible. Jinbei was more to himself, if it even made sense. And of course Sanji was effected in his way, no longer doting on the females aboard how he usually did.

Today the Straw Hats landed on the strange island, the foreboding emptiness making everyone feel on edge. The usually joyous captain included.

You almost never fought, his more airheaded nature being canceled out by your intellectual one. But as the Sunny reached the shore of the island and Zoro dropped anchor, the unease in everyone grew tremendously.

"Luffy," you start quietly, a tremble in your voice. "Maybe we should go to another island? This doesn't seem-"

"Nah. This one is fine. Hop to it, crew!" Your brows furrow and you sidestep, stopping him from gum gumming his way off the deck.

"No. Really, Cap. I don't think this is a good idea-"

"Are you going against your captain's wishes?"

A deadly silence as everyone stops in their tracks.

Luffy never talked to you like that.

"Excuse me?" You cut through the tense silence, arms firmly crossed against your chest- the way everyone knew you wouldn't back down from the argument.

The resident swordsman and sharpshooter had come to the side of either of you, the latter holding scarred hands in the space between you. They shook, unsure of if he should touch you.

"I'm the captain of this crew. That never changed. We're going." The lack of chipper tone in his voice scratched against the very wrong part of your brain as your upper lip curled into a sneer.

"Hey, Y/n, come on.." Usopp tried his best to coax you back, his rough fingertips creeping around your bicep. But you wouldn't back down. No way.

"Well, Captain," you practically spit the venom onto the deck, teeth gritted as you spoke. "I'm keeping my happy ass here. You die, you die on your own."

You didn't mean it, of course. But you knew that was the only way to get through to the rubber man.

"Fine. Stay here. I don't care."

He... didn't care?

"Fine." You huff and tear your arm away from Usopp in a furious snap. You climb into the crows nest and keep watch, the captain and the others' forms disappearing on the horizon.

Your thoughts brewed as you paced the crows nest. They were so loud, you failed to hear someone sneaking their way on board- into the room with you.

A struggled shriek under a firm hand, black spots lining your vision, and a muffled voice of a man is all you remember.

Everyone was gone- Captain Monkey D. Luffy included, while you and the Thousand Sunny were abducted from the island cape.

Zoro

Everyone has off days. It's inevitable.

But damn if you haven't been having an off week, constantly bickering back and forth with your meathead of a swordsman, Zoro.

It was one thing or the other with him recently. He trained too hard and hurt himself (which was rare), you decided to take things in your own hands and made a mess of your duties, you snapped at your best friend, Nami was upset at the both of you- it was a mess of a week.

So, when you realized that Zoro wouldn't give up the petty stalemate, you thought you would. Or you would at least attempt to.

"Zoro," you started with a small breath. You know he wasn't one to easily discuss arguments, preferring avoiding the topic as much as possible.

But this was too important.

"I know you hate this kind of conversation-"

You already noticed his attention going to polishing the blades of his swords. You bite back grievances, taking another calming breath.

"But this is important. We can't keep-"

"Fighting?" He grumbles, not bothering to look up as he dabs polish onto the metal.

"Exactly," you nod. He always had that way of acutely knowing what would come out of your mouth next.

"Well, I'm not fighting you. I'm just doing my own thing." He dismissed you almost too easily as your heart clenched.

"If we aren't really speaking, that's not really fixing anything either-"

"-because not talking is just as bad."

Another annoyingly accurate finishing of your sentence. Another few dabs of polish on the dark grey blade.

"If you can't take this serious-"

"-usly you can just go."

"Okay, really? I'm trying, Roronoa. More than your stubborn ass has."

"I see no point." He hadn't lied, he really didn't see the point in dwelling on a fight he didn't remember the start of.

Your arms cross over your chest, eyes disapproving as you look down at him.

"The point is figuring this shit out and being able to be in the same vicinity without this.. dumb shit that we're doing right now." You grow angrier, hating when he would do this after fights. Act like nothing happened and just keep to himself until you came around.

"You're the one keeping it up," that was the final straw in the hat. You shriek behind gritted teeth and your arms fall from your sides, hands clenched in aggravated claws.

"You know what? Forget it. I don't want shit to do with you right now."

"You'll come back again," Zoro lowly speaks, dark olive eyes looking over the sword blade as he held it against the sunlight.

"Oh, you'll miss me so bad, Roronoa. I'm going into the village. Stay here with your precious swords."

He grunted in response, half of his brain cutting that out of his ears.

Oh, how true it would turn out to be.

You walked through the village of the island, honestly just wanting to blow off steam and reconcile later with your sword weilder. But you wouldn't make it back to the ship.

"You're Roronoa's woman, yeah?" Some random man had spoken over the busy bar. You sat at the counter, drink glass long since empty as you just held onto the rim.

"Who's asking?"

"You're her alright."

The last thing you remember was your head spinning after the impact of.. you didn't know what it was, it was just hard and painful. Your eyes fluttered shut, your head already starting to ache.

And your stubborn pirate hunter Roronoa Zoro stayed up all night waiting for you to return to no avail.

Sanji

You were never a jealous person, really. You were content with your life, your looks, even your choice in lovesick boyfriend.

Sanji, however, was a different breed. He would glare at other men with looks that could kill. He would roll up his sleeves like one of those boxing types, light a cigarette and step to bat over you.

Normally you love when he does it. It made you feel special, worth fighting for. But right now, you couldn't be bothered with showing your favor toward him.

All you asked was for him to come along on a trip to the market.

That's all. A trip to the market.

Now he's nose to nose with a bigger man, who wasn't even bothering you, because you wanted something nearby and the man happened to be in the way.

"Gods, Sanji, let's go already." You practically begged him, the cook not stepping down from the fight he picked. At least there was that.

"Right after I put this bastard in his place, Y/n." You sigh with crossed arms and look at the bags Sanji carried for you. They better not get messed up.

"Fine. I'll meet you at the ship. This is ridiculous." You didn't really wait for him to answer. If he wants to fight then-

"Oh~ What fine ladies you are! Such delicate curls and eyes as beautiful as gemstones!"

That made you stop.

"Excuse me?" You did a full one-eighty, facing the blond cook again. Sure enough, he forgot about the fight he was just in- over you no less- for some island women that passed by.

Like you thought, the lovesick cook was fawning over two ladies. The man before was gone and your annoyance grew tenfold.

"Sanji." His name left your lips in an angry growl, the two ladies looking you up and down, sizing you up in a way.

Paying them no mind, since well they honestly weren't a match for you, you step closer and grab the cook by the suit collar and spinning him around.

"Sanji Vinsmoke, you better be joking."

"I'm sorry, my love! Those beautiful ladies were just too delectable to let pass me by!"

You did not want to hear that.

"Unbelievable," you shake your head, curly brows only swooning at you with his usual interlocked hands at his cheek.

"Don't follow me." You stomped away and left him in the shopping plaza, another woman catching his attention as you did.

So that hopelessly romantic fool left you to walk to the ship alone, but you never made it.

Before you even made it to the docks, a mysterious figure had nabbed you from an alleyway.

Sanji had made it to the ship, a few gifts to soothe your anger with him. He searched your usual hang out spots for you to no avail.

He realized then that something happened to you, and that the last thing that happened was he paid attention to other women.

He had a lot more than just making you upset to make up for later.

Sanji's was a bit rushed, I apologize. I was just tired of seeing this in my drafts ;^;

[Header credits: @yur1ed1ts @artistslayouts ] If I can find the other art tag I will add it!

[inthelittlewood]

Amazing episode especially all the additional BNHA cards and advert breaks (Philly's fridges how I have missed you) just in general really fun editing. I was going to make a joke about Cherri must be getting paiddd this week with all the additional content but honestly I just wanted to add that its so cool how collaborative you are in your presentation. The trivia bot bit with Oli (I assumed you got him to record those extra lines), including affiliated adverts for projects not necessarily life series (Mcc cards and Mumbos mainly hermitcraft centered merch drop) and just these fun editing bits ontop of the base content. Just these little extra 4th wall bits that are usually just for LORE (Insert sparkles) being used in creative and collaborative ways is just really cool. I've said this before but Cherris thumbnails are what got me into your POV and its so unique and playful and fun to have them, if not scary and suspenseful to see when it is darker Lore (I will never be over lim life finale. Ever.) Just an appreciation for the editing/presentation side of your POV because it's so goddam cool how much substance you can bring afterwards and it always makes me think "This man has like 4 days to edit how does he keep producing so many bangers and additional ideas DOES HE SLEEP". Super good stuff dude

The answer is no, I don't sleep. I sacrificed a fair bit of sleep and all my 'down time' this week to make this episode happen. It definitely wouldn't be sustainable with any kind of regularity lol

Trivia bit VO was actually me. The animations were luckily in the model file from the Devs when they sent it is for thumbnail purposes, very lucky!

Oli posting an ad (and me even seeing it) were all a total coincidence. I was wrapping the episode and wanted one more break then saw he'd posted it like 30 mins ago

Cherri went nuts with the hero designs this week. They were all originals too, I gave her zero prompts aside from Ren's involving DNA which did make its way in to his design

[hurtspideyparker]

Peter finds out Tony has never had a slushie, and takes him on a poor person's pleasure tour of New York City. All the sketchy shops and terrible public transport Tony has been too privileged to experience. Peter finds it appalling he calls himself a New Yorker and has never been on the Subway

First stop slushies and slim Jim's—"oh I see it's like a frozen margarita, but with less of the fun stuff and more watermelon diabetes"

They take the F train, which Tony has always avoided because a) safety and b) has private drivers, a dozen cars, and money to spare. He is both alarmed and fascinated, and very, very disgusted

Almost falls over because he refuses to hold the poll and Peter has to catch him

Gets harassed for his ugly jacket which he replies "costs more than your shitty apartment rent"

Gets nearly robbed for said jacket

Comments on the bodega cat "is that sanitary?" which Peter replies "nope! Oh look they have cool ranch Doritos"

They visit the Statue of Liberty "Pete I've seen every angle of this lady including up her nose, it's called reckless driving of a rotorcraft" "but have you ever waited in line? Any line?" "..." "exactly! Now shhh I'm eavesdropping on the Portuguese family. I think their cousin Afonso stole Mariana's car to see his prison boyfriend" "... tell me more"

Peter buys Tony a New York tourist shirt as payback which he does wear but refuses to take a picture in (Peter sneaks one anyway)

They take lots of selfies (without the shirt or covering it with his jacket at Tony's insistence) and show them all to Pepper and Happy when they get home

They eat hotdogs for lunch which Tony has had before but Peter insists it's part of the experience. "Not as good as a cheeseburger, better than the aloo gobhi Pepper made last night. Don't tell her I said that"

End up witnessing a man threatening an old lady at an ATM but before Peter can go change into his suit Tony has walked up to the guy and punched him in the face

Tony riding home on the Subway with a cup of ice water held to his purple knuckles wearing an 'I ❤️ NY' shirt looking very grumpy to be sitting on the filthy seat (Peter takes another picture and sends it to the Avengers group chat. Clint gets it framed)

"So what did you think!" "I think I'm going to have you wash your hands every time you step into my building. I also think you're going to come to Malibu with me next weekend." "Oh, why?" "To show you how I live. We'll need to get you a suit tailored ASAP, and I hope you have your learners permit." "Oh no."

[vore-stories57]

Halloween Party

(A Vore Story)

It was late October, and me and my good friend, who I’ll just call V, were getting ready for a Halloween party. It was a big event that one of the charity organizations in town did every year to raise money, and I loved going to it. I especially loved the costume contest part, and I was excited because V created a very cool costume for us. He was going to be the big bad wolf, and I was going as little red riding hood. I was honestly excited because I was going with V, but it would also my first time in a dress, which also made me excited.

Eventually, we got to the party, and the moment we walked in, everyone had their eyes on us. I was honestly a little overwhelmed, but thankfully, V was by my side. We eventually at one point sat down at a table, and I rested my head against his chest. He chuckled and said he had a surprise for me when the competition began. I asked him what it was, and he said I would have to wait and see. I asked him if I would like it, and he chuckled and said I would have to wait and see.

Just as V said that, a fireman came in the stage and said it was time for the competition, and he said that everyone who wanted to participate should line up together. Me and V immediately went up to the line and signed in, then go in line. We were 2nd in line behind a group of 5 people, all of which were dressed like a power ranger. As they got up in front of everyone, my hopes for the winning the competition declined very fast. I guess V could sense that I was disappointed, and he pulled me closer to him, which made me feel better. After a few moments, they left, then it was our turn.

I then walked on the stage when it was our turn, and showed off the outfit, which I thought was very cute. As I did, V walked on in his costume, then he looked at everyone and said he wanted to perform a trick, and everyone in the firehouse looked at us. I then turned to V to ask him what he was planning, and he hadn’t discussed anything with me, but just as I went to ask, he grabbed my shoulders, lifted me up, and shoved me down his throat. I was scared and surprised, but I barely had any time to react. As I slid down his throat, I punched and kicked, but there was nothing I could do.

Within a few moments, I had landed inside V’s stomach. I felt the acid all around me, and I began to scream for help. Outside of the stomach, V had taken a bow in the front of the audience and went off stage. Once he was off, he could finally hear me screaming from within his body. I asked him why he was trying to kill me, and he said that he really needed to get the prize, and he chuckled and said that he always had thought that I looked tasty, so he was just taking advantage of an opportunity. I began to squirm inside his body, begging him to please let me go, but it was no use, and knew it.

V eventually found a seat and sat down, letting his squirming belly rest on the chair. After a few minutes of trying to escape, I realized there was no hope. I knew I was done for, and I was going to just become more fat on my friend’s body. I curled up and just waited. Soon enough, the judges had finished the costume contest, and had started the scoring process. As they scored every costume, V sensed me not moving, so he squished his stomach and asked me if I died yet, and I pushed back and said I was still alive. He then chuckled and said good, then he said he wanted me alive if we won.

After some time, the judges came to the front and announced the winners, and he had gotten first place. V jumped up, which made the acid in his stomach go everywhere, including my eye. It burned so bad, I started to cry a little. V then ran up the front and got the check, then thanked the judges for the award. He then went back to his seat and sat down. He could hear me crying from inside his stomach, and he asked me if I was in pain, and I yelled that his acid got into my eye. He simply slapped his belly and said that I should get used to it, because that was my life for however long I had left.

I then asked V if he ever saw me as a friend, and he chuckled and said he saw me as a friend and meal combo. He was just waiting for the perfect moment to swallow me. He then said that he did feel somewhat bad about digesting me, but now that he won, I was nothing more than a piece of meat inside him. I was speechless, but there was nothing I could do.

After about an hour, my clothes had turned to rags where the acid was. I could feel my skin becoming soft, and it felt odd. V eventually decided to head back home, which was about a 20 minute walk. As he walked, he asked me if I was still alive, and I said yeah, and he chuckled and said good, then he told me that I should squirm some more. I asked him what would happen if I didn’t squirm, and he said he would drink a bunch of beer and fill his belly to the brim. I instantly got worried, so I kicked and punched some more. With easy movement on his stomach walls, he moaned with pleasure.

Eventually, we got back to V’s place. He sat down on the couch and asked me how I was still doing inside him, and I suddenly felt very weak. I told him this, and he chuckled and said I didn’t have much time left. I could feel my legs melting away, and I guess the fumes inside his stomach were starting to get to me. I then begged him to please let me out, and he said that even if he did, I would be in pain due to the lack of skin and muscle. He then patted his stomach and told me to just relax.

After about another hour, I was dizzy, and I knew I was almost done. Eventually, I passed out, and my body went limp inside V’s body. Throughout the next few hours, my body was broken down and absorbed by his stomach. I added to his belly, ass, thighs, and arms.

After a few days, V looked at himself in the mirror, pleased with his new body. He chuckled looking at himself, then patted his belly and said I made a good meal.

[chrissv4mp]

♱ IN THEIR SECOND-HAND SMOKE

warnings. angst, smoking and drinking (mentioned not glamorized), secondhand smoke exposure, language.

synopsis. you tag along to what's supposed to be a calm movie night with a group of mutual friends—including billie, who's laughing and having a good time. it gets overwhelming quickly, and billie's the first to notice your discomfort.

words. 2.7k

letters. projecting once again, don't we love that 🙂‍↕️ anyway, blowing smoke in someone's face is never okay!! especially if they're clean and have been for a while.

you don't know how billie convinced you to come out tonight.

well... that's actually a lie.

you know exactly how.

"c'mon," she'd said, leaning against her car like she was posing for the cover of some magazine. "you're not gonna stay home and sulk in bed, right? get in or i might just have to kidnap you."

you tried to protest. tried. but she looked too good in your hoodie with her silver hair falling over her shoulders, and you've always been weak for the way she grins like she knows you're gonna say yes.

so you did.

now you're riding shotgun in her car, windows cracked just enough to let in the breeze, music low but heavy in the speakers—something lazy with a loud bass, something with a beat that matches the rhythm of billie's fingers tapping on the steering wheel.

she's got one hand on the steering wheel, the other draped out of the open window, rings flashing each time she passes by a streetlight. her head moves a little with the music, and every now and then she sings a line under her breath, off-key on purpose just to make you laugh.

"you're quiet," she observes. "nervous?"

"no," you lie.

billie chuckles. "you're the worst liar ever, baby."

you shrug, biting back a nervous smile. "just... haven't hung out with all of them at once before."

"they're cool," she says, making a left turn with one hand like it's second nature. "loud. very carefree. but cool. calm."

nodding, you turn your head to stare out the window, watching as houses and gas stations blur by. she lets the silence sit for a second, then turns the volume down a little more.

"you don't have to stay if you're not feelin' it," she murmurs gently. "we can leave whenever."

you glance over at her, stunned a bit by the way the purple streetlights illuminates her eyes. "yeah?"

"yeah," she repeats, eyes still on the road. "i got you."

you don't realize how much those three little words mean until they leave her mouth. i got you. and you believe her, trust her with everything she says.

she pulls up outside the house not long after. lights glowing warm through the front windows, someone's voice already echoing faintly from inside. the porch is lit up dimly, shoes scattered on the steps, a broken speaker sitting on a rocking chair by the door.

billie grabs her keys, glancing at you. "you ready?"

you nod.

she leads the way in, easy and confident, and instantly blends in with everyone like she's done this a hundred times—which she probably has. she daps someone up, hugs another, tosses a playful insult over her shoulder to someone else, and then circles her way back to you.

"you good?" she asks, quieter now, fingers brushing yours.

you smile. "yeah."

and you mean it.

it's not bad, honestly. someone puts on a movie, half the group argues about what candy's the best, jay starts a dumb game of "would you rather" that derails into something stupid and funny. you settle into the couch beside billie, your knees brushing each other, and for the first time in a while, it feels like you can actually breathe.

she's laughing, cracking jokes, poking fun at people in that playful way she does where no one ever really gets mad. you even join in once or twice.

it's cool.

until it's not.

the room's dim now, lit mostly by the glow of the tv playing another movie. it smells like popcorn, cheap body spray, and the strong, sharp twist of smoke that clings to your clothes before you even realize it.

you're on the edge of the couch, legs tucked underneath you, trying to focus on the movie nobody's watching. or maybe the snacks nobody's touched. or literally anything besides how out of place you feel now.

billie shifted onto the floor just in front of you a few minutes ago, back against the foot of the loveseat a few feet away, legs stretched out, hands holding a water bottle unlike everyone else. her laugh cuts through the dialogue on screen—warm and real, like she's still genuinely having fun.

"yo, you ever seen someone trip over air before?" jordan laughs, nudging billie with his foot.

"dude, you fuckin' did that last week," she grins, punching his leg. "you can't say anything after that."

everyone bursts out laughing. you try to join in, try to even crack a smile, but it doesn't quite land in your chest in the way it does for all of them.

mya takes a hit from her spot near the front door, inhaling. then exhaling—but she looks away like she doesn't want it to get in anyone's face even though she's across the room. you hug your knees to your chest, hiding your chin and mouth and trying to focus on the movie again.

you're not judging. you get it. they're doing what they want because they can—because they're not kids anymore, and you certainly aren't one either. but it's still weird—watching someone light up, watching smoke curl from between their fingers while everyone acts like it's just background noise. the room feels way smaller now. tighter. like your lungs are already pulling away.

jay laughs. some girl—who you don't the name of—passes a drink, and you're pretty sure it's not non-alcoholic.

you press your tongue against the roof of your mouth, trying to ground yourself. it's not the smoking, not really. you're used to being around people who do stuff like this. what's getting to you is something deeper, something quieter—how easy it is for everyone else. how natural they all seem. how loud you feel inside even though you haven't said a word in fifteen minutes.

you hardly notice when ethan—the guy beside mya—takes a drag, inhaling easily. you notice, you just don't say anything. just shift a little.

it's fine. you're okay.

until billie's mid-laugh, tossing popcorn into mya's mouth across the room, and jordan—the guy sitting too close—leans in with a lazy smile and exhales a thick stream of smoke right across your face.

you freeze.

he didn't mean to. or, at least, you don't think he did.

your eyes burn. not bad. just enough.

but it's not about that.

it's the way it feels. uninvited. like you're not even there. like you're suddenly not part of the inside joke anymore. like the room shrank and your voice disappeared somewhere under the laughs of your friends and the noise of it all.

your hand twitches around your legs. you keep your expression neutral, trained. you look away.

and that's when billie goes quiet.

you don't even realize she's looking at you until the laughter dies down in her throat. she turns her head, observing you, eyebrows knitting together just slightly. the way her body shifts, the way she sits up straighter—it's immediate.

she saw it.

she practically felt it.

"yo, hey," she says. not loud. not angry. but the energy in the room changes in the room instantly.

"was that supposed to be funny?" billie asks, sharp but calm as she stands up.

jordan blinks, brows furrowing. "what?"

"blowing that in her face," she clarifies. "was that a joke?"

he holds his hands up, defensive now. there's a faint smirk on his face, like he thinks it's funny. "it wasn't like that, billie. chill out."

billie doesn't respond right away. just shakes her head and looks at him like she's trying to figure out if he's really worth it. then she turns back to you.

the room goes silent after that, actors on tv talking lowly in the back as everybody just stands there frozen—tense. you shift on the couch, a bit surprised at how quickly she noticed—how fast her mood changed. you're not used to people stepping in like that.

her eyes stay trained on you as she walks over, leaning close and speaking quieter. just for you. "wanna go?"

you nod. "yeah. okay."

billie doesn't say anything else, just nods. she grabs your hand gently, helps you up, and leads you out of the house—no goodbyes, no explanation, not even a last glance. like just looking at jordan would set her off.

outside, the air hits different. it smells like wet pavement and fresh air. not the stuffy smoke inside.

without a word, billie pulls her hoodie over her head and tosses it at you, eyes soft.

once you're both in the car, you just sit there for a few moments. silent. letting the whole thing process in both of your brains. then billie turns to you, sticking her key in the ignition and twisting it—the car roaring to life.

"you looked like you couldn't breathe," she murmurs, eyes on you the whole time. after a moment, she adds, "for a while."

you exhale, finally.

"i couldn't," you say, trying to laugh it off. it doesn't work.

she nods once. "then let's not go back."

the engine hums beneath you, and for a second neither of you moves. then she glances at the dashboard clock flashing the numbers 11:27 and breathes in through her nose like she's grounding herself.

"...we could get slurpees if you want to," she asks suddenly. "or we could just... y'know, drive around for a bit. but seven eleven's open still open."

there's a hitch in her voice. something softer. more unsure than usual. like she's still a little rattled, like she's mad at herself for not noticing sooner.

"yeah," you mutter. "that sounds good."

"cool," she mumbles, shifting the car into gear. "coolcoolcool."

she keeps one hand on the wheel, the other spinning the rings on her fingers. you reach over after a moment, linking your pinky with hers, and her shoulders drop. just a little.

the drive's quiet, but it's not the awkward kind. it's soft. safe. her music plays low again—something more calm now, something like frank ocean or amy winehouse—and the world outside blurs into neon signs and stoplights and the distant sound of sirens slicing through all the other noise of los angeles.

by the time you roll into the 7/11 parking lot, she's finally started to breathe normally again. the tightness in her jaw loosened, shoulders more relaxed, and she's looking over at you with the faintest smirk on her lips.

"race you inside," she says, like she's trying to restart the night. make it better.

"you're gonna lose," you shoot back, already unbuckling.

billie bolts out of the car before you finish your sentence, her jordans stomping against the pavement. you chase her in, both of you laughing now, for real this time.

inside, it's too bright and too cold, and everything smells like cleaning supplies and hot dogs that have been spinning for six hours too long. but it doesn't matter. you stand shoulder-to-shoulder at the slurpee machine, half-fighting over who gets the cherry flavor first.

"mine's gonna be prettier," she says in that baby voice that always has you laughing, tongue out, layering blue raspberry and coke in uneven layers.

"you mean uglier?"

billie frowns in faux sadness. "you're mean."

she pays for the slurpees—you try to argue, but she ignores you completely—and then you both head back outside, finding a spot on the curb our front, backs pressed against the concrete wall of the building.

the night hums around you. headlights pass in waves. someone blasts music at a red light, windows down, bass shaking the pavement.

billie slurps loudly. obnoxiously.

you elbow her.

she grins, glancing at you. "feelin' better yet?"

"kind of," you shrug. and then, after a pause: "i feel a little stupid, though. childish."

her head turns, full attention on you now. "what?"

"i don't know," you murmur. "like, it wasn't that big of a deal. i should be normal about it, like... like everyone else is. they just laugh and move on, act like it's funny. and i just... i don't know, i just shut down."

you sip your drink, eyes fixed on the traffic. "makes me feel like i'm missing out or something. or, like... something's wrong with me."

you don't even hear her move, but suddenly her hand is on your knee, the other slung over your shoulder and pulling you close.

"hey," she says. quiet. firm. "there's nothing wrong with you."

you glance at her. she looks serious. kind, but still firm.

"that wasn't normal. it wasn't right," she says. "what he did. none of that shit was funny. none of it was okay. and if it made you uncomfortable, then that's real. that matters. don't let anyone make you feel weird for having boundaries."

you nod slowly, eyes stinging—not from the smoke this time, but from something warmer. something softer.

billie squeezes your knee.

"i should've said something sooner," she adds, looking down. guilt in her tone. "i saw it on your face and i just waited. "

"you didn't wait that long," you mumble.

"long enough."

"you got me out."

she softens again, eyes meeting yours. "always."

you sit there for a while longer, finishing your slurpees, letting the city move around you, time passing slowly. the world keeps going, but for now—it's just you and her.

then billie nudges your knee with hers. "ready?"

you nod, and she stands, stretching her arms above her head with a yawn that makes you do the same. she watches you for a second, then tosses her empty cup into a nearby garbage before you both head back to the car.

once you're inside, she scrolls through music on her phone for a second, then taps something. the first few notes of the song you both love equally fill the space between you two—some by steve lacy.

billie hums along at first, fingers drumming lightly on the leather steering wheel. the streets are quiet now, less noise, more calm. then, as the verse flows in, she starts to sing—barely above a whisper. just soft enough for you it to reach your ears.

not loud. not dramatic. just smooth and low. like she's trying to soothe herself, and ends up soothing you in the process.

you don't speak. don't tease. don't do anything except listen.

her voice fills the space between you, warm and steady, and it's like all the leftover tension building in your chest through the night starts to fade, unraveling. bit by bit. like she's carrying it for you, even without realizing it.

your head tips toward the window. eyelids flutter shut.

by the time she pulls into the driveway, you're already halfway gone.

she glances over, putting the car into park and killing the engine before talking. "you okay?" her voice is barely louder than her singing.

you nod, slow and tired. "mhm. thanks."

she locks the car behind you as you both head up the porch steps. she doesn't say much—doesn't have to. she just stays close, her fingers brushing yours every few steps.

the house is dim inside. quiet. comfortable.

you toe off your shoes and just stand there for a moment. your body's heavy, the emotional weight of the night finally catching up.

billie watches you, then opens her arms without a word.

and you step right into them.

no jokes. no sarcasm. just the warmth of her hoodie against your cheek and her arms wrapping around your waist, holding you together.

"bed?" she murmurs. you shake your head, pulling away from her reluctantly to drag her over to the couch.

you both collapse onto it, limbs tangled up, your body draping over hers like you're made to fit there. she welcomes you. runs a steady hand through your hair, fingers scratching your scalp softly.

the jingle of a collar catches your attention, head rising a little from billie's neck.

shark comes first, big paws tapping on the floor before he hops up and settles into the crook of your knees. brutus follows a few steps behind, letting out a dramatic huff, curling up at your feet, his big head pressed against billie's ankle.

you shift slightly, eyes already closed. "thank you," you hum.

billie leans down, presses a kiss to your temple. "'course."

there's no more words said after that.

just the gentle sounds of her breathing under you, the soft beating of her heart, the warmth of her dogs curled close, and the quiet hum of the world finally calming down.

you're comfortable.

finally.

tags. @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @love4madii @livvydunneness @partyf4vor @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @bilsdillldough @47lake @hopingforgoodblogs @mybluebossanova @strwberrybils @justtr @greenbttrflyy @billsbaby @bilsova @lottiepierce @northlndnisred @asterisk-eyes @dragoneyelashart @xxangelfarrlzxx @ilomiloblohshh @kittymarrow @meliciousmel13 @jul3esz @rightarion @svelish @eilishssiennaa @eeuni @dragoneyelashart @thinkshespretty @cnnibalize @canthelpit0 @hailwiggly @karaaeilish @bilswifee @drunkinyourbenz @aka-persephone @bitchesbrokenpromises @jayjaywetforbils @slvt4subchratt @cantlandonmyfeet

[livinginshambles]

Not ridiculous at all | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: You are part of the marauders, always having felt special when they called you part of the gang, but also consequently too embarrassed to admit to wanting to be more feminine, afraid that they would no longer deem you cool enough to hang out with you. You are hurt by James' comments and James might realise something when you're avoiding him.

Notes: Best friend!James, he's a bit stupid, Lily is a sweet friend, arguments, so maybe a little angsty, but not really, classic cliche tropes like friends to lovers, misunderstandings, pining (I literally just dreamt this so it's a bit patchy) and I know it's very stereotypical but that's why it's just fanfiction :)

(PS) I haven't written before, just wanted to get this out of my system. English is my third language, and this fic is not proofread because I'm way too lazy for that! Enjoy!

Part two Masterlist

__________________

You've grown up with James Potter and have been part of the marauders since the very beginning. You always took 'being one of the guys' or 'part of the gang' as a compliment, it left you feeling giddy as if you were included in some secret group that only you had the privilege of belonging to.

But sometimes you would sit in the girls dormitory and despite your friends laughing and chatting about, you would feel a wave of loneliness wash over you. They often did activities together and by now, 6th year at Hogwarts, they've managed to stop asking you to join them as you've always dutifully replied that it 'wasn't your thing'.

I mean, what would the guys think of you? It would be too embarrassing to admit to them, or anyone for that matter, that you would love to be dolled up for once. To go shopping with your friends, be included in movie nights, asked by Alice if she could test some makeup on you, or read and gossip about the new romance novels that were the new hype.

Especially now when you sat on your bed, part of the circle in which they were discussing plans to go dress shopping.

"You should absolutely join us!" Alice squealed in delight. You were shaken out of your train of thoughts with a huh and realized the conversation had taken a turn somewhere and now included you too. Marlene and Lily nodded fervently in agreement but you bashfully shook your head.

"Nah, can you imagine me in a dress?" You joked, but Dorcas caught the curious and somewhat longing look in your eyes at the mention of getting ready for the Yule ball.

"I think you would look great actually. And besides, you can treat yourself too sometime you know. You're not obligated to stick with the marauders all the time." The girls in the dorm once again all agreed and you smiled at their kindness.

"Since when are you interested in things like the Yule ball?"

You snapped your head up at James to see his questioning eyes and then quickly averted your own in a flustered manner as if one of your greatest secrets had just been uncovered. "I just think it seems nice, that's all, I'm not even going or anything", you defended. You felt slightly embarrassed by James' face which wore a weirded out expression.

"Well you're not really the type to go to such an event anyway right?", James remarked. You did your best to hide your frown at his immediate agreement. Was it that bad that you'd hoped he would say something along the lines of 'what are you talking about, go enjoy yourself at the party' or something like that?

"Besides I can't imagine you in a dress, all made up, it'd just look so ridiculous." James continued. Remus, ever the sweet and attentive boy glanced at you and noticed your slightly sacked shoulders in disappointment at his words.

"I mean you're just not that type of person, you know? Like completely opposite of Lily."

And with that your face felt like it burned from embarrassment. As if you didn't already know. That didn't mean you didn't want to be more like her sometimes.

Peter's eyes flicked with concern from James to you and back.

You felt hurt and forced yourself to stop tears welling up at his words, mustering up a grin, ready to agree with him but were interrupted by Sirius who had now also caught your change in mood.

"Prongs, you really have no tact at all, how are you expecting to even win Evans over with that?" He said in a playful manner as to not offend their whipped friend, but not fully succeeding.

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" James looked slightly offended and Remus jumped in the conversation.

"That's just not a nice thing to say. It's different if you call me an ugly toad, but not Y/N! If she wants to go to the Yule Ball all dolled up, she definitely should." He shot you a supportive smile which you returned.

Peter nodded in agreement. "I don't think you'd look ridiculous at all," he told you sincerely. You subtly scooted a little closer to him and Remus.

"But it's Y/N, it'd just look weird, cause she's just not a proper girl like that, no offense." James shot back and gave you a smile at the last two words.

You saw Remus opening his mouth to retort but quickly intervened. "He's right." You told them. You just wanted this conversation to be over with already. It was awkward and painful for you as it was.

James didn't seem to get the memo, however, and kept on going, drilling your confidence further into the ground.

"See, she agrees." He turned to you. "It's not like you're ugly or anything but it'd be ridiculous. Like I said, you're not the type to be all beautiful and dressed up, hair done and all. I mean you're cool, but not pretty like that." He was clearly not done yet and started talking about Lily and her beauty at which point you abruptly got up and left.

"What's gotten into her?" James remarked with a frown.

Sirius and Remus didn't even bother to answer and just stared at him in disbelief.

The girls comforted you as you cried. Marlene barged in with ice cream, stolen from the kitchen in one hand and 5 spoons in the other. "What a jerk." She commented and thrust a spoon in your hand before plopping down in front of you with the rest of your friends.

Lily sighed frustratedly. "See this is why I don't like him at all. He's so rude and arrogant, and he-"

"- is right." You answered dejectedly. "I'm your friend, but not the type to join you guys and belong to your circle."

"Well that's only because you hang around the boys all the time," Alice argued. She nudged you. "But you know what, now that James is being a git, you can hang out with us!"

Dorcas gasped dramatically. "We could do a girls night! Treat ourselves a little", she jumped up. "I'll get the face masks and nail polish!"

Lily let go of you too and told you to sit up. "Come on, let me do your hair," she smiled.

With Marlene feeding you ice cream, your nails being polished by Alice, hair done by Lily and Dorcas reading the latest romance novel out loud while you were all wearing a facemask, you couldn't help but feel all warm inside.

"I love you guys."

"Don't talk with your mouth full."

You laughed and pushed Marlene teasingly off the bed.

"Hey, watch it! I just finished your right hand." Alice complained.

James was a moron. He was kind hearted (to most), popular, captain of the Quidditch team, good looking but a moron nonetheless. So he was absolutely clueless to find you missing from the common room yesterday evening and even more clueless when you were missing from your usual spot next to him at the Gryffindor table in the great hall, because he could not for the life of him think of a reason why you would sit with Alice and Frank instead.

He frowned and felt uneasy at the fact that you hadn't even looked at him, let alone come for a hug with your smile and said 'good morning' like usual. He shook the thoughts away. You were obviously allowed to have your own friends as well and not obligated to spend all your time with him.

The door of the great hall behind him opened and Lily Evans walked in, which was why instead of walking up to you to say something, he habitually turned to Lily instead.

"You look beautiful this morning as usual. I could put in the effort to match you when we go out together?" He shot her a wink and a coy smile but faltered slightly when his attempts at flirting got even less of a reaction out of her than usual.

James turned to Sirius with a questioning look, as if to ask 'you noticed that too right?' but Sirius simply shrugged. When James looked back at Frank and Alice, you were gone, having left the moment you felt his stare.

James started to ponder. 'Were you avoiding him? Surely you wouldn't, right? You two were friends after all, childhood friends. Childhood best friends even, for Merlin's sake! If you were upset with him, you'd definitely let him know.'

A week passed with you, sitting on the opposite sides of the classroom, seemingly having picked partners long before class because how else would you team up with random students before James could even blink?

He had now fully accepted that you were avoiding him. And with that, he meant 'accepting the possibility of that occurrence'. He was by no means going to accept your strange new behavior without doing anything.

The last drop though, was when he heard the news from Peter that you'd already left for Hogsmeade with the girls.

He frowned. 'You were kind', he reasoned. If you were upset with him, then he'd have to apologize. Quickly. Because it's been far too long without his best friend and he realized he missed you. Especially seeing you hang out with others.

"What did I do?" He finally asked his remaining friends.

"Really Prongs?" Remus couldn't help but ask. His friend just gave him a look that said 'well go on then, what is it'.

"How about you think about what you said last week, you know, those rude comments about the Yule ball."

"Yeah, but I already apologized yesterday and told her that I didn't mean to offend her!" James flailed his arms around when he exclaimed it.

"But she's still only hanging out with anyone but me," he whined. "Peter studied with her, Pads got a 'good morning' this morning and you're still talking to eachother.

Remus gave him an unimpressed look at his whining but James was not done complaining yet.

"She keeps spending all her time with the girls while she doesn't even seem to be fully enjoying herself"

This was true. You dearly missed James, so despite your newfound hobbies, a look of sadness sometimes fell over your face, which hadn't escaped James' attention.

"And I just don't understand why she would-" He started but never finished, something dawning on him. "Oh of course! Merlin, I'm so stupid!" He shouted out in epiphany.

"Your words not mine," Sirius quickly took the opportunity.

"Oh bugger off Pads", James laughed and pushed Sirius' arm. And with that, he took off to find you.

Sirius and Remus watched him leave and sighed at the same time. "Do you really think he got it?"

"I bloody hope so, Moony."

"But it's James."

"Yeah, but I mean it's not my fight but even I realize that she's sad that James made fun of the idea of her being more girly when she secretly wants to be. Now she's trying out what she likes, without having to stay within the role of 'one of the guys'. I mean, it's pretty straightforward. I guess a genuine apology and show of support is the solution."

"But it's James."

"Yep, you're right."

Though he hadn't been able to find you, he'd waited patiently for your return in the common room. Staring at the ceiling from his laid back position on the couch.

"Oh there you are, Y/N," He rushed to sit up to face you when you entered the room. If you were surprised by his presence, you didn't show it.

"We need to talk, I wanted to apologize." He breathed out, relieved at himself for having figured it out. "Also, I've missed you so much."

You felt a weight fall off your shoulders. You didn't want to be upset with him and felt incredibly relieved to hear him say that.

"I'm sorry for the things I said. I didn't mean for you to get offended or anything," James began.

"Yeah, you already said that." You frowned. "And I remember I told you that that was not a proper apology."

"I know, I know. It was shitty of me so I wanted to apologize. Properly you know? I'm really really sorry. I was a terrible friend and shouldn't have said the things I said. Please forgive me?" He proceeded to give you Bambi eyes in an attempt to convince you. It unsurprisingly worked.

You softly smiled up at him. "Okay". You barely got the word out before he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.

"Great," he said, cutting through the comfortable silence that you two had been hugging in.

"Now you don't have to avoid me anymore, and you can stop sitting with the girls to prove your point, and join us again instead." He triumphantly continued.

What now?

You blanked. "I'm sorry?" You managed to ask.

"I get that I hurt you by saying your weren't a proper girl, but you don't have to pretend to prove your point by trying to be one." James stated, proud of himself that he figured it out.

"Because I can see that you don't like it, like your face gets all gloomy which is understandable because it isn't really your circle of people."

You stared at him, an incredulous look on your face.

"Fuck you James." You said, your voice coming out softer than you'd hoped. Tears were welling up again, but you couldn't help yourself.

"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I do want that to be my circle of people? That I don't just want to be one of the guys all the time? Is it that crazy to think that I'm still a girl with feelings? That I want to feel pretty too? That I don't like being told by my supposed best friend that I'm basically ugly? That I hate to be compared to other girls like that?"

You were ranting and James had taken a step back, surprised by your outburst.

"No, that's not what I-", James tried to salvage the situation but you weren't having it.

"You've told me that stuff for as long as I can remember and I never told you otherwise because I was scared that you'd no longer want to hang out with me for not being a 'chill friend'. But you know what, I no longer want you to."

At this point, you angrily wiped your eyes to get rid of tears that were threatening to spill. "So fuck you". With that, you brushed past him, escaping upstairs to your room.

James Fleamont Potter felt absolutely miserable.

If anyone told James that you'd ever be more on his mind than Lily, he would call them ridiculous. But here he was, another week had passed and he was staring at your back as you were leaving with your friends for Hogsmeade again.

You weren't wearing your school uniform and robes anymore and James was surprised to see you wearing one of what he knew to be Lily's dresses.

'It suited you more than it suited Lily.' The unwarranted thought flashed through his mind and he shook his head with a scoff to himself. What was going on?

James also noticed that your hair was brushed and shining with a butterfly clip holding your hair in a bun. He wondered when you decided to change your hairstyle because he found that it framed your face perfectly.

'Not ridiculous at all,' he understood.

You looked absolutely perfect.

You turned your face a little and James could feel his head reeling. Have you always been this glowing? Was he just simply missing you? He didn't even realize that he hadn't spared Lily a glance- until Sirius mentioned her while they were having a drink - and a strange feeling washed over him at the thought.

You were running from Filch.

'Fuck I shouldn't have studied after hours, curfew was probably hours ago," you cursed to yourself and took a sharp right turn. You were trying to reach the secret passage right behind the big statue on the fourth floor when you saw the hallway light up because of Filches torch.

Forcing your legs to move faster, you were suddenly grabbed by the wrist. A hand was clasped over your mouth and you felt a heavy cloth fall over you.

You recognised the person pressed to your back immediately and tried not to melt in his embrace as Filch walked straight past the two of you, covered in the invisibility cloak.

You could feel his breath against your temple. His hand had dropped from your mouth, instead draping across your stomach now to rest on your side. The other held out in front of you to create space under the cloak. You shifted a little and finally turned your head and lifted it to look at him and thank him but you were unable to say anything for a moment.

You simply admired him.

The proximity of the two of you in that intimate embrace had something fluttering in your stomach and you harshly jerked away in denial when your feelings hit you.

Oh no.

Now, all suddenly? What changed? Does it really take one random moment to flip your world upside down?

You rushed to push the invisibility cloak out of your way and then left without sparing James another glance.

James couldn't force his legs to move to run after you, still reeling from about the exact same epiphany that you'd just run away from. Your gaze, his fast beating heart and the urge he had felt to lean down for a kiss had confirmed his conflicted feelings of the past few days since he'd seen you leave for Hogsmeade.

The following morning, you'd had the chance to properly process the happenings of last night.

Your conclusion was that you felt guilty that you hadn't even expressed your gratitude. It was rude, you figured. Even if you were overwhelmed by the sudden wave of realization that came crashing down on you, it was rude.

So you pushed your confused feelings aside and marched up to him when you found him in the great hall.

"Thanks, I owe you." You awkwardly said, stopping at his spot at the Gryffindor table. All while absolutely not having forgotten about the fact that the last time you had said something to him, you'd flipped him off and told him to go fuck himself.

James was absolutely beaming. "Yeah you do, but no worries, I'll cash it in right away." This was his chance. He would make up for his behavior and act on his feelings right now.

"How about a date?"

There was a long silence. Your heart plummeted to the ground. Right. James. Lily. Lily and James.

"What am I a magician?" You finally managed to sarcastically retort. "I'm a convincing person but not a miracle worker." You pulled your hand through your hair as you looked around the great hall to see if you could spot Lily.

"Alright, I'll see what I can do." You forced a smile.

James, who had been mostly confused at your words, disregarded it completely in delight at your acceptance to go out with him, even if it seemed somewhat reluctant. Not that it would matter because he was going to prove what an amazing boyfriend he could be. If you'd accept him, of course.

He was grinning from ear to ear, which you mistook as excitement at the prospect of a potential date with Lily. So when you abruptly turned on your heels and marched over to Lily, James watched you confusedly.

And when he heard you try to talk Lily into going out with him, he wanted to crawl in a ditch and die. He stood there, frozen and recounting how you could've interpreted that wrongly.

You returned to him after a while with an apologetic smile. "Yeah sorry Prongs, she-"

"You", he blurted out.

You raised your eyebrows. "Me?" You repeated back.

"The date, I meant you. A-and me of course. Us, like you and me on a date. Together. I thought maybe Hogsmeade?" He managed to force the words out nervously.

There was a long silence and James' shoulders slumped a little. Even more when you finally answered.

"Uh, no?" You said in a questioning manner. James officially wanted to die now.

"You're sweet James, and I don't think you do it on purpose but you're not interested in me like that." You began, trying to convince not only James, but yourself as well.

James opened his mouth to argue but you quickly interrupted him before he could properly do so.

"James, you really don't. And you asking me out on a date when you've quite literally been drooling over Lily just last week as you have been doing for the past 5 years, that's not very nice to me." You frowned.

"Oh." He whispered. He was once again at a lack of words for a moment. Terrible new habit, he thought. This was not how he thought it would go.

"I'd still gladly go with you to Hogsmeade though?" You offered. "Just you know, not as an easy second choice date while you are obviously head over heels with her."

'I'm not', he wanted to tell you, but it was obvious that you wouldn't believe him. "Yeah okay," he weakly smiled. "Just the two of us though."

You nodded and stepped forward, wrapped your arms around him and he leaned into you, returning the hug.

With his face pressed in your hair, eyes closed, he decided that this situation wasn't too bad. He's fought for Lily's affection for years. He'd fight harder for yours.

Part two

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Roads Untraveled 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, pregnancy, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Single and pregnant, you discover a super soldier in the dumpster but he might not be hero you think he is. 

[This is a rewrite of a series of the same name which I removed a couple years ago]

Characters: Silverfox!Steve Rogers

Note: I finally did this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

‘When he went away  The blues walked in and met me  Oh, yeah if he stays away  Old rocking chair’s gonna get me  All I do is pray...’ 

You sway to the melody as you wipe dry the last plate. You set it in the rack as Etta James’ soulful crooning wafts around the kitchen. Just the simple task of washing the dishes has you out of breath. You can no longer hum along as you’re suddenly light headed with sweat speckled across your brow. Even the breeze drifting in through the open window can’t cool the constant heat brewing within you. 

You brace your lower back as you reach for the dish towel and pop open the cupboard. The music drones to silence as the next some in queue loads. Your rounded stomach presses to the counter as you take a mug and dry it inside and out. Strange, you don’t remember the song starting like that; the strange warbling noise much unlike Marvin Gaye’s rich tones. 

You set the mug on the shelf and back up. Another noise peaks your attention, too tinny to be a snare. You rub your stomach mindlessly as you sling the cloth over your shoulder. You waddle across the tile to the folding table beneath the window. You tap pause on your phone and the bluetooth speaker goes silent. 

Your fingers pick the damp fabric away from your bump. These days you can’t avoid getting soaked. Even as you can’t forget about the burden of your condition, you’re still oblivious to how it gets in the way until it does. You sigh as you listen for another clue. 

A pained deep grunt floats up from below. Distant but decisive, another rustle beneath the unexpected noise. You lean over the table, a hand on the ledge as you push the pane higher. You bend, stomach pressed to the speaker, and peer down. You expect another dumpster diver searching for empties to trade in; rather you meet a most unexpected sight. 

There is a man in the dumpster, alright, but he isn’t moving. From there, you can’t see very clearly. You squint at the figure strewn among the trash but the zigzag of the fire escape obscures your eye line. 

You shouldn’t go and see. Not only is it a lot of effort, but it’s dangerous. You shouldn’t be wandering into alleys to check on strangers in dumpsters. You don’t know any good reason someone might be swimming in garbage. Nor do you think they would want to be bothered.  

Still, the prickling in your neck urges you to do something. There’s just something so peculiar about the angle of the arm you can see clearer than the rest of the body. At least they��re moving, even if they sound agonized. 

You take your phone and untether it from the bluetooth speaker. You unlock it and keep your thumb ready to dial out. You move as quickly as you can, not very, and waddles along the back of the couch into the entry way. You take your keys from the hook near your door and step into your cushy slides. 

You turn back the latch and leave the door unlocked behind you. The slides shift on your swollen feet as you rush down to the elevator. God, your back hurts. You try not to lean too far back as it only adds to the pain. You need a belly belt but they’re so darn expensive. 

You’re out of breath as you step on and turn to watch the numbers count down. You’re still panting as you reach the lobby and push through the front doors, leaning into the heavy grated iron until it creaks loudly. You clamour down the steps to even ground and your hips pang. 

You put your hand under your stomach, trying to lift it and ease the pressure in your hips. You blow out between your lips as you have to slow down. You shuffle across the grass and into the paved lobby. The stink of the trash brings you back to those early days of morning sickness. And afternoon sickness. And night sickness. 

You try not to inhale too deeply as you step between the brick buildings. You bring your phone up, ready to hit those three digits in a heartbeat. You should’ve done so already. Even if you do, it’ll take hours for anyone to come out here. 

You stop and listen a few steps from the dumpster. You don’t hear anything now. You look up at the sky, dimming towards evening in a mixture of pink and blue, the moon peeking palely through the hue. You grip your phone tight, keys jangling with your movement as you continue forward. 

“Hello?” You call out, “is someone in there?” You linger near the corner of the dumpster, the trash reeking in your nostrils, “do you need help?” 

No answer. You stare up, wondering how you might see inside. If you weren’t built like a keg, you might be able to see from the lower level of the fire escape but you can’t even make it one rung. You blink and call out again. 

“Hello? Are you okay?” 

You wait for a response. Silence again. Maybe they found their way out on their own. You huff. So much for all that. All you’ve done is added to the pain in your arches. You turn on your heel and a groan gurgles and plastic crinkles noisily. 

You stop again, wavering, and peer back over your shoulder. A hand appears over the tops of the dumpsters edge and grips it. You face the large metal bin as the knuckles strain within the stained brown leather, fingertips poking out nakedly, blood and dirty tinged across the flesh. A long grunt follows as the figure drags himself to look over the top. 

“Sir, are you--” you begin, voice catching at the sight of the cowl and the man’s square jaw. The white star on his chest stuns you. It’s him. Everyone knows that uniform, that face, even under his helmet. New York’s own Captain America. 

You gape as the super soldier strains and swings himself out of the dumpster with one arm. His other is hanging limply as his feet hit the pavement. His knees crack and buckle. He drops down onto them and hisses. 

“Captain America?” You utter dumbly. 

He puts his fist to the ground and leans on his arm. He hangs his head and heaves. He drags a leg forward, planting his foot, and makes himself stand. He pushes his shoulders back and winces, reaching to cradle his dangling arm. 

“Steve,” he rasps, “goddamn.” 

You don’t expect the obscenity. Not from him. He leans against the dumpster and turns his chin up. He gnashes his teeth as he grips his arm and jerks, moving the heavy bin with his effort. The pop of his shoulder is sickening as he growls tightly. He stomps his foot and as he shakes out the arm he just put back into place. 

He reaches up and peels off his cowl as he puts his head straight. He looks at you as he wipes the streak of blood from lip to chin. His blond locks are streaked silver and his face is lined. He looks much older than the magazine covers and the TV screens. The magic of editing, right? 

He swipes the sweaty hair from his forehead and huffs. 

“Steve,” you rest your phone on your stomach, “are you okay?” 

He pushes himself away from the dumpster and puffs, “I’m fine. Just... a hiccup.” 

You stare at him. He looks tired and worn. You believe him when he says he’s okay. He's a super soldier and the world has seen his many feats. Yet he looks completely hollow. 

“Are you sure? I could call someone or...” you step forward and point to the slash that borders chest and shoulder, “you should clean that out, shouldn’t you?” 

He looks down and grimaces, “had worse. I got comms. HQ doesn’t care about a few scratches.” 

He goes to step forward and stumbles slightly. He snarls and kicks his foot into the gravel. He wiggles his knee and bends to rub the joint. 

“I...” your mouth opens and closes. This isn’t the man you’ve seen in the media. He's not smiling and golden and shining. Still, he’s the Captain. “I live above,” you gesture upward, “I could help... or maybe you can just... sit for a little bit. Get yourself straight?” 

He looks at you. As if for the first time. His forehead smooths as the tension eases from his jaw. His gaze slowly crawls down to his stomach and you see the dimple in his cheek. 

“Your husband okay with that? I’m a bit of a mess,” his tone is lighter as he fixes his grip on his cowl. 

“Oh no, I don’t have--” you chew your lip and look at the brick wall, “it’s just me. But I have first aid kit and learned to stitch in summer camp. I think I can still remember how.” 

He glances around and nods, “got a back door?” 

“Yeah, it’s... past you,” you nod in his direction. 

He pivots stiffly and cranes to see around the dumpster. You near him and your keys jingle again. You follow him to the metal door with the glass window and you shove the key in and twist. You pull it open a few inches. It’s heavier than the front door. He grabs it and wrenches it all the way back. 

“Thanks,” you murmur. “There’s an elevator.” 

“Hm, fewer people see me, the better,” he sniffs as the door clanks behind him. 

“It might take me a while,” you warn, “I’m slow.” 

“What floor. I’ll meet you,” he offers. 

“Sure, it’s three.” 

“Number?” 

“310.” 

“I’ll find it,” he states and marches towards the stair sign. 

You go to catch the elevator, stewing in disbelief on your ascent. You step off and continue on to your apartment. He’s already there. He stands with his hand on the frame, looking over his shoulder as you waddle down the hall towards him. 

“It’s unlocked,” you say. 

He opens it and waits for you. You thank him as you enter and he follows. He locks it and lingers behind you. You put your hand to the wall as you slip off your slides. He gently lays his cowl on the corner table and bends to unlace his boots. You hang the keys on the hook and place your phone on the small table. 

He leaves his dirtied boots on the mat and limps forward. You stand in the open doorway of the living room and peek back at him. He looks around reluctantly. 

“Please, sit down,” you insist and wave through the doorway before you pass through. 

“I...” he begins and you hear his uneven gait down the hallway. “I don’t want to dirty your couch.” 

“I have a steam cleaner,” you assure. “Sit, I’ll get the kit.” 

He stares, his eyes once more scanning the space. Does he think this is a trip? That you’re some covert agent who all too conveniently found him? That’s absurd. Look at you. 

You shrug off that ridiculous idea and cross to the kitchen. You open several drawers before you remember it’s in the bathroom. Of course. Your brain likes to play games these days. You grab the metal tin from under the sink and return to Steve.  

He pulls off his gloves and balls them on the side table next to the couch. You come around the other side of the couch and sit, leaving lots of space between you. You squeeze the kits as you’re once more out of breath. 

“You okay?” He turns the question on you. 

“I’m not the one bleeding. Just pregnant,” you smile. 

You balance the kit on your stomach as you lean back. You sanitize a needle and weave it with surgical thread. You put that aside and fish out an alcoholic swap. You shift the kit aside and push on the back of the couch as you try to sit forward. You shake and he helps you, a humbling assistance. 

“First,” you turn to him, “we’ll see how deep it is,” you tear open the swap, “can I...” 

“One sec,” he dips his fingers into the fabric and tears the sleeve, renting the fabric like tissue. His arm is thick and well-toned despite the years. A centurion like him can’t complain for the shape he’s in, even battered. “I can do it myself.” 

“Yes, but it wouldn’t be easy.” 

You reach as he angles towards you. You gingerly dab around the gash and he tenses. He takes a sharp breath, “you don’t have to be so gentle. I can handle pain.” 

“Right,” you work more diligently. 

He’s quiet as you tend to him, picking out gravel and some metal slivers. You worry that you might miss some. You lean in closer and he steels himself at your proximity. 

“So,” he clears his throat, “just you and...” the kid?” 

“We all make mistakes,” you chuckle. You can only laugh about it, as scared as you are. 

“Mmm,” he flinches as you sweep down the length of the cut. It’s not that deep, mostly superficial. 

“Let me put some steri-strips on, shouldn’t need the stitches, ” you say as you sift through the kit with one hand, “if you’re hungry, I have leftovers. You like chicken?” 

You don’t know why you’re offering. Maybe it’s because you owe him. Like everyone in the city. It’s your chance to give back to the hero who gave so much. Or maybe it’s because you’re so damn lonely talking to your own stomach. 

“I should go,” he insists as you place a strip across the cut. 

“Up to you,” you say, “I don’t mind either way, but I’m not going to chase Captain America out of ym apartment.” 

He doesn’t say anything. You finish dressing his wound and gather up the wrappers and all. You crumple it in one hand and rock yourself to stand. You’re overly aware of him watching you. You touch your stomach and rub it, soothing your nerves. You find him watching the movement of your hand. 

“You must be pretty far along,” he says. 

“Six months. Chicken tortellini, if you want. I was gonna reheat some. I haven’t eaten since work.” 

“Work?” He frowns and stands, moving better than before. “Should you be?” 

“I’m at a desk. It’s nothing. HR got me some ergonomic stuff. Nothing compared to what you do.” 

You put away the kit and toss the garbage. You wash your hands before you search out the container of pasta in the fridges. You sense him behind you, just in the wide archway that peers into the kitchen. You reach into the cupboard you left open and take the single plate that isn’t in the rack. 

“So, you want some?” You ask. 

He’s silent with contemplation, the shift of his weight creaks in the floor, “I appreciate it, yes, please.” 

“I might have something you can change into,” you say. You wonder why you’re doing all this. Maybe it’s that maternal instinct kicking in. “The father, before he took off, left a few things.” You peek over your shoulder, “he was a bit smaller than you.” 

He shrugs then winces at the careless gesture. “Do you mind if I wash up before I eat? I smell like garbage. I don’t wanna overstep--” 

“Go ahead, it’ll take a while to warm this up,” you say. 

Another long lull. He taps his fingers on the wall and inhales deep enough for you to hear, “promise, I’ll get out of your hair after dinner.” 

“Please, take your time,” you say as you put the tortellini in a glass pan to rebake. He backs away and you sense his hesitation, “oh, down the hall, to the left of the bedroom at the end.” 

“Thanks,” he intones, “oh, uh, just realised, you know who I am...” 

Your brows pop up and you stop before you can put the pan in the stove. You look back at him and give your name. He nods. 

“Pretty,” he comments, “also, it’s just Steve, not Captain.” 

[enwoso]

if you still need inspo, grumpy when the lionesses won the euros?

winner, winner | alessia russo x child!reader

was gonna post this on monday to get over sunday nights hurt but for some reason i didn’t? dunno if i really like this but one but it’s cute ig.

also im getting through my requests slowly but surely just as a heads up for anyone who may have requested something and it hasn’t been posted yet, i promise its in the works🙃

grumpy masterlist

"look tiny! there's mummy!" gio pointed out to the sideline where sure enough alessia was warming up, just about to be subbed into the match with her best friend ella around 55 minutes into the match.

you waving to her very enthusiastically, a wide grin on your face as alessia waved back as she had a similar smile on her face, blowing you a quick kiss before taking off her sub bib and taking her coat off readying herself to take the pitch.

you were sat just a little behind the dugout, it was the first time you were this close to the pitch, usually being up in a box where the players on the pitch would look incredibly small from up where you'd usually sit in wembley.

but nevertheless you were sitting proudly with your england shirt on russo on the back in big capital letters with of course non other than the number 23 splayed on your back. ear defenders sitting tightly on your head, keeping out the loud crowds which were chanting along.

allowing you to enjoy the match without getting upset that your ears were hurting from the loud screams. you didn't have the vaguest clue of what was going on, but you were happy to be surrounded by your family and especially watching your mummy play football. that was the most important thing and one of if not your favourite thing to watch.

the game carried on and you carried on chanting when you saw your uncles chant as well as cheering when you needed to.

until it happened.

the stadium erupted, the screams and cheers were so loud that some of the noise actually made its way through your ear defenders. all you could hear was your uncles and your grandparents screaming that they'd won.

you didn't know what they'd won, but you were happy nevertheless. maybe they'd won a chocolate bar, and then maybe mummy would be able to share some with you, in your mind that would be pretty cool if that was what happened cause whenever you did something good or won a small game at your football team mummy would get you a small chocolate bar for afterwards.

your mummy claiming it was a way to add some energy back into your body after running around for so long, you didn’t care the importance of it, you were getting a chocolate bar and that’s all that mattered.

but instead after the whistle blew, the girls didn't win a big chocolate bar as instead there was a stage being wheeled onto the middle of the pitch.

"what that for?" you asked pointing to the people who were bringing the stage up onto the pitch for the award ceremony.

"so that the girls and your mummy can get their medals!" luca beamed, as you sat confused now. "so they don't win any chocolate?" you asked innocently playing with the match program in your hand, a laugh coming from both luca and gio.

a frown appearing on your face, one for mummy not winning any chocolate but two for the fact your uncles were laughing and hadn't included you in the joke.

"tiny, they don't win chocolate. they'll get a shiny gold medal" gio says in between laughs at your cuteness, you pulling a face at the sound of a gold medal.

"dat sounds boring." you pulled an unamused look as gio and luca then try to explain to you the importance of the win today, but really it just flew in one ear and out the other as you caught the eye line of ella and georgia sending them a big wave and a grin, the two girls sending you an equally enthusiastic wave and grin.

"can i see mummy now?" you turned to your nonna who knew you were sitting on, the girls lining up to get their medals. waiting in the german team to finish up getting there's.

"she'll be over once they've done this part, i promise" carol smiled at you as you nodded, your nonna never broke a promise to you so your turned your attention back to the pitch. as you waited patiently, watching each girl go up onto the stage and shake the line of hands of people that apparently were very important before the medal was placed around their necks.

and your nonna stuck to her promise, as soon as the trophy was lifted and the fireworks and confetti came shooting into the air as well as the photos had been took with the trophy. alessia was jogging over, medal around her neck in your direction.

"mummy!" you cheered as she reached the barrier, hugging her brothers and parents before your basically jumped into her arms.

"look!" mummy showed you her medal and it was just like the one your uncles had just been describing to you, shiny and gold with a purple ribbon. you giggling at yourself and the funny faces which you could see of yourself in the medal.

"see it's not so boring is it!" gio pointed out as you shook you head still making funny faces which were all distorted in the shininess of the medal.

"do you want to wear it?" your mummy asked, one hand on the purple hand that was around her neck as you nodded, alessia quickly taking the medal off and placing the heavy medal around your neck.

a big smile appearing on your face as you were still surrounded by your family. "oh let me take a photo!" carol got out quickly, getting her phone from her pocket and taking a few photos of your mummy and you with the medal.

you sat in your mummy's arms as she spoke to carol, telling her that you would see them soon as mummy walked to into the center of the pitch where all the confetti was and the rest of the team.

"mummy?"

"yes baby" she smiled at you as you had a small look of confusion on your face, "is this what you won?" you asked holding up the medal in your hand, the gold plated medal already being bigger than your hand.

"yep, it's pretty cool isn't it" mummy said with the same smile that had not left her face all day, you nodding in agreement.

"but do you not win any chocolate cause gio said you wouldn't" you frowned a little, you thought that a big chocolate fountain would be cool, plus when you won a little tournament mummy would always buy you chocolate bar as a reward.

"oh lovie, we won a big trophy i'll show you it later. but if you want chocolate there'll be plenty at the after party i'm sure i can get you some" mummy explained as your frown turned into a small smile as you approached the other girls on the pitch.

you mood perking back up, you were getting your chocolate reward and you'd been given your mummy's cool medal so life right now was pretty cool.

"TINY!" ella yelled for you, as alessia placed you on the ground as you ran towards her.

"oo that's a cool medal you've got!" ella held up the medal inspecting it as if it wasn't the same gold medal that hung around her neck, you nodding "it's not mine, it's mummy's!" you cleared up as ella gasped in disbelief.

"your telling me that they didn't get our biggest player a medal?" ella asked her voice over exaggerated as you shook your head, the medal still hanging around your neck.

"no, but mummy said she'll get me some chocolate afterwards" you smiled, you weren't letting the chocolate be forgotten about by anyone.

"oh, well that's way better than a silly medal!" ella scoffed playfully as you nodded enthusiastically as you both began to list off your favourite chocolate.

alessia being left to do a small few interview with reporters on the pitch before going around and congratulating some of her teammates she hadn't seen after the final whistle due to running straight to where you were after the whistle.

you and ella found your own fun though, roping mary in to join as you began to have a confetti fight. ella trying to show your how to slide on your knees although you weren't the best at it as you wouldn't have the best run up and instead face plant the pitch, you confidently saying it didn't hurt - although the small red scuffs on your knees said differently.

"mummy look at me" you giggled as you were covered in silver and gold confetti. it sticking in your hair and on your cheeks.

a warm smile came from alessia as she crouched down to your height, "how has that happened?" she asked with a small laugh. she knowing exactly how it happened after watching you play with ella and mary in the confetti but never the less loved hearing your side of the story.

"me and mary were rolling around, like this!" you yelled over the loud noise that was still in the stadium, pulling your mummy over to the ground where the confetti was, you beginning to roll around just like you'd done with mary and ella a few minutes ago, the confetti sticking to your face and clothes.

"you do it mummy!" you sat up for a minute begging mummy to join you as she watched on, mummy looking unsure.

"go on less have some fun with the little one!" mary urged as she joined you in the fun of throwing and rolling around in the confetti. alessia huffing playfully before joining the two of you.

a moment alessia would cherish for the rest of her life, a moment where the camera didn't matter, a moment where she was in her own little bubble making memories with you and her friends.

a moment that would never and could never be forgotten.

[opashoo]

Hi! This is a question about your (really cool) Scuglang. Now, I have noticed that you sometimes use the Rain World symbols and script for your Scuglang. Because of the language not being a European-based language, I'll assume that there isn't really an alphabet, so to speak. How did you apply the Rain World symbols to your Scuglang, and how does it work enough to be able to be written?

Edit: Here is a link to a reddit comment where I've posted up some info about a Yongasabi font that I've developed, as well as a download link for the font. The glyph documentation document is here, though it is largely information taken from this post and elaborated.

Hello and thank you for taking interest in my (really cool) Scuglang Yongasabi, I am very proud of it. I have yet to make a more comprehensive guide as to how the writing system works but I threw together a very rough and simple guide on my work computer with mspaint and a mouse just now. I have since added some new images so this doesn't apply to all of them anymore. So this should actually cover everything about writing in Yongasabi. Have fun!

Here are all the isolated consonant and CV syllable glyphs in Yongasabi. Note that the first row is for isolated consonants. Not included are punctuation or CVC syllable blocks because I'm not hand drawing 1734 glyph combinations, and it would be incredibly unhelpful to do so. Instead I'll just explain how to synthesize CV and CVC blocks below.

A key as well, since that may help.

So at its core, Yongasabi uses an abugida, so all regular consonant characters are pronounced with an added A by default (ka, ga, ta, pa, etc...) As you can see by this diagram, writing a line above the character changes the A to an I (so ka becomes ki) and a line below changes it to an O instead (so ba becomes bo).

Then there's the long vowels. For standalone long vowels, the Monk symbol is written within the long vowel characters. When combining the with a consonant, the Monk symbol is replaced with the consonant (as you can see here with P and S).

CVC (consonant-vowel-consonant) syllable blocks, syllables that start and end with a consonant, are written by stacking the consonant characters. By default, they are read as CaC, but writing a line above turns it into CiC. Separating the characters makes it CoC.

CVC syllable blocks with long vowels, including CaeC, CuC, and CeiC, are formed differently. CaeC and CuC are formed by encompassing the equivalent CaC syllable block within the long vowel glyph. There is a special rule for Caeh blocks, as noted below.

CeiC syllable blocks are formed by surrounding the initial consonant glyph with four marks and placing that above the final consonant. As noted, n and d glyphs in initial position will join to the final glyph.

VC blocks (vowel-consonant) where the syllable starts with a vowel and ends with a consonant, are formed like CVC blocks but with the Monk symbol in place of the initial consonant.

Here are some more specific rules that I've finally written down properly (and edited into this post several months after originally posting it). It can get to be a lot to memorize, but it's possible. Several people have already reverse-engineered all the rules just by observing the behaviors of the font I developed, which is bonkers to me.

Punctuation in Yongasabi has fewer strict rules than English and tend to reflect the way one would speak. The symbols are as follows:

Full stops act like periods, marking the end of a sentence.

Pauses act like commas, marking a natural pause in speech, such as when listing items or separating clauses and ideas, though it is sometimes used to mark the end of a sentence with a less complete pause than a full stop.

The text end symbol is used to mark the end of a text, usually the end of a section, chapter, or book.

Gate brackets are used like parenthesis, to add additional information that may not be necessary.

The exclamation and question marks behave as in English.

Arrow brackets are sometimes used like gate brackets, but more often are simply used for decoration.

Long dashes are used to express an elongated sound like (aaa would be writing instead like a—) and to intensify exclamations and questions (!!! and ??? are instead written as !— and ?—)

Ellipses represent the writer trailing off or becoming quiet.

Short dashes are used almost exclusively to link names and titles to addresses (maki-andae, omi-tei, maya-ijun)

Quotes are quotes.

Here's an example of the language written with the writing system, then romanized, translated, and broken down into its grammatical parts. It took a lot of time tuning the writing system to account for all the possible syllable block combinations but I'm happy with the results! Funny enough, it started as an attempt to make a working writing system out of Rain World's glyphs, just as a thought exercise, and eventually I wanted to make a whole language to support the writing system (then the writing system changed radically to support the new language.) Thank you for asking, and hopefully I'll have a release post for the language ready soon, since it is actually finished at this point.

[honeymark]

𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒏𝒄𝒕 𝟏𝟐𝟕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 ㅡ

click 〔 here 〕 for the hyung line.

˗ˏˋ 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 :: hi miss soojin ! could u write smth ab 127 comforting their insecure gf ? thank u so much ! ´ˎ˗

⇢ 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍 feels the most secure when you’re by his side, so he’s quick to notice when you start pulling away from him. at first, it was the texts — on the days you didn't see each other, you'd always text him throughout the day, even though you knew you wouldn't get a written response. it's not that he didn't read them; he was too busy with work to respond, so he'd always react with a thumbs up or a simple "haha." but then, your daily text threads stopped. he knew you had your own life, so he assumed you were too busy to send updates, but the nightly phone calls stopped, too. did he do something wrong? did you find someone else? what the fuck was going on?

he waits until the weekend to talk about it, and he listens attentively as you open up about wanting to be “less clingy and annoying.” he takes your hand in his with soft, cool fingers in a reassuring grip. “i didn’t know you felt this way, y/n,” he says softly. he presses a light kiss to your knuckles before delicately pulling you into a warm embrace. “you aren’t clingy or annoying, baby. you’re the cutest person in the world, and in a perfect world, i’d spend the rest of my life right by your side. nothing is as special as the time we spend together, and that includes reading your daily updates and watching all the tiktoks you send me and falling asleep to your soft snores on our nightly facetime calls. i love it all, and i love you, so don’t pull away from me, please?”

⇢ 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐎 isn’t one to ruminate on the past, mainly because he tends to overthink and overanalyze every little detail in a sticky situation. that being said, it would be a blatant lie to say that he hasn’t looked into your former relationships and partners. he’s matured enough over the years to keep his jealousy in check, but no matter how much time he spends with you, he just can’t seem to shake off a lingering insecurity that’s convinced him he isn’t fulfilling your needs…

which is why he’s all the more surprised when you bring up the same insecurities to him. he listens without judgement or interruption as you express how you’ve been feeling, his heart aching as you tearfully open up about not being enough for him. he waits for you to finish before enveloping you in a tight hug, and he thanks you for being vulnerable with him, reminding you that your feelings and concerns are valid. he gets carried away with listing all of the qualities he loves about you, and he doesn’t stop until you seal his lips yourself with a kiss. “there’s nothing to compare, my love. no one holds a candle to you. you’re the one for me, i mean it!”

⇢ 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊 knew from the moment you met that there was no hope for him; he was going to fall head over heels in love with you. it’s been five years since then, and his affection for you has only increased tenfold. he truly admires everything about you, from your ability to understand and empathize with others, to your independence and strength, to your resilience and readiness to bounce back from any setback, to your creativity and ridiculous sense of humor. of course, he appreciates your beauty (something that he reminds you of very frequently, especially at night 🤠), but more than anything, he loves you for who you are and genuinely cherishes the depth of your connection.

so, unsurprisingly, he’s concerned by how suddenly adamant you are about not wanting to get dressed in front of him, something you’ve been doing for years now. at first, he doesn’t think much of it; you reserve the right to privacy, and he respects that, but it goes on for over a week. he’s sure something is bothering you, and his suspicions are confirmed by how you immediately burst into tears when he asks you about it. he holds you in a firm embrace as you describe how insecure you feel because of your stretch marks and acne scars. nothing hurts his heart more than to hear you disparage yourself, and he waits until you calm down to share his thoughts.

"it's okay to feel that way, babe. but i'm going to be honest...i think you're beautiful no matter what. who cares about stretch marks or acne scars? those are just nouns. they don't mean anything, and they definitely don't take away from how amazing of a human being you are. you’re beautiful, and i can’t get enough of you.”

⇢ 𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍 is the first man you’ve ever met who’s been able to intellectually and humorously keep up with you, and you haven’t given him a chance to escape from your grip ever since (not that he’s ever wanted to, of course). the two of you met in college, and after months of constantly riffing off each other, you made the first move and confessed your feelings in an uncharacteristically sincere way. it’s been a few years since then, and while it’s undeniable that you two have the most fun when you’re together, you start to wonder if he really loves you. it’s not that your relationship was necessarily lacking anything; you two were plenty intimate, both emotionally and physically, but…it still couldn’t hurt to ask, right?

it’s one of those “let’s order pizza and rot on the couch for hours” kinds of nights when you finally find the courage to ask him, “do you love me?” he hears you, but it’s clear he doesn’t take you seriously; he doesn’t even bother looking up from his phone as he answers with a sarcastic “of course not.” he waits for you to respond with some sort of witty comeback, but you don’t. he glances up and nearly drops his phone on his face when he sees you tearing up. he immediately asks if you’re okay, and he solemnly listens as you make light of your insecurities. he pulls you into a rough hug and kisses you, his lips soft and sweet against yours. “shit, baby, i’m sorry. i didn’t know you were feeling this way. of course i love you. y/n, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and i’m sorry that i don’t say it enough. i love you, baby. i love you so much.”

[the-voice-beckons-below]

the end of the (red) line

bucky barnes x steve rogers x gn! reader

synopsis: red string au, in which a thread, invisible to others, tangles you and your soulmate together. you’ve been waiting a long time to meet the person at the other end, the problem is, they keep damaging the thread, leaving you unable to track them down.

warnings: angst (it’s a fic involving bucky, it’s to be expected), fluff, reader is down bad, mentions of death, self loathing, reader is technically an orphan (blame new york not me), big muscly super soldiers !! reader is confident!

word count : 2,928

this whole red string business had cost you many nights of sleep. all your friends had been lucky, bumping into their supposed soulmate in a store or cafe, or getting a new job and seeing a prominent string dangling from their coworker’s fingers.

see, it isn’t visible at all times, which is arguably less and equally more frustrating. there’s only certain times you can follow it, or tug on it if you’re impatient. there’s a possibility you walk past your fately betrothed and you’ll miss them, because the universe decides you’re not ready.

it’s been five years since it first showed up, looped around your fingers snuggly. it happened after a nightmare, which were all too common. witnessing the attack on new york first hand had been devastating, bodies upon bodies. screams and cries and families torn apart, including your own.

it was just you now, scattered in the vast expanse of the world like a drop in the ocean. friends were distractions, only so much could tackle the constant ebbing and aching deep within your chest. tucked away so far that it was normal, like it had always been there.

it was at a bar when the familiar red showed up, and in frustration, you yanked hard. standing up from the booth with your friends and determinedly walking to try once more. the bond was fickle, or maybe, it was just yours specifically. seemingly disappearing each time some ground was made, like someone had purposely cut it.

you learnt to be fast, coiling the thread and pacing swiftly. weaving through crowded streets on a winter’s eve, eyes narrowed and scrutinising. your lips dried at the cold air, and a small voice reminded you that the jacket you’d been wearing was still slumped in the bar’s booth. was it worth it? getting cold and also getting a dead end?

the trail never seemed to end, with each tug and pull, there was no resistance. leaving a yarn-like pile puddled at your feet. it could’ve been the frustration or exasperation that triggered the next moment, gripping onto the thin crimson and jerking it with every ounce of might you had.

it wasn’t noticeable at first, but steadily a burning littered your palms. for the very first time, you’d gotten rope burn from wrenching the thread.

there was also a man who was distinctively dishevelled, like he’d been displaced.

he was littered in crimson.

not only was it looped around him, it also continued from him. which was just too much to comprehend at the given moment, was it possible to be attached to multiple people?

the man whipped his head up, almost like he’d been shocked, and belatedly met eyes with you. locking with a shudder, his gaze was almost frantic.

at the same time, you both spoke, your voice edging on angry and confused. while the stranger’s seemed unbelievably stunned.

“you!”

in all years of imagining your future partner, you’d never expected them to be so…unfairly attractive. adorned with dull blonde locks, a sharp jaw and icy blue eyes that held a depth you hadn’t prepared for. he was tall, and built, gods he could crush you.

it almost cooled the anger in your veins.

“why did you keep cutting me off?” you snapped, fists clenching from anxiety this time. had they seen you before and decided you weren’t enough? could you be enough? why wait all this time? why sever the connection over and over?

“what?” he breathed, the air in his lungs fled. the blonde’s train of thought was completely dismantled, a flicker of hurt and confusion flooded his face. “that - that wasn’t you?”

steve still remembers when it appeared. just after his major transformation from frail to superhuman. the sight caused him to stutter, whole body feeling just as weak as he was before. immediately he’d gone to find peggy, hoping it was her, she was breathtaking. first woman to see him as someone, and who looked at him with a hint of softness that he melted for each time.

and he still remembers the way his heart had plummeted upon finding out his newly acquired string was not attached to peggy. it shattered a part of him, he’d never felt like this with anyone before, and yet peggy wasn’t the one. her bold lipstick would not litter his cheeks or lips, her soft yet strong hands would not rest in his own.

it was confusing.

but what was truly heartbreaking was finding out who it was attached to.

after rescuing bucky from hydra and finally having his best friend back, steve thought maybe it would be okay not to know the person on the other side of the string. him and buck would be alright if they had each other, his fondest and happiest of memories included barnes.

on that train, time stopped. bucky dangling from a scrap of metal, steel eyes terrified and begging for steve to haul him back up.

he couldn’t reach him. he tried, god he tried.

the worst part of it all had been seeing glimmering thread falling into the snow with his best friend. he’d found and lost his soulmate - best friend, at the exact same time. it was a good thing to have crashed that jet into the ice, he was content with it. knowing if there was an afterlife, buck would be there with open arms.

but that’s just not how it went.

instead he woke up from a presumably deadly sleep.

all he had ever known was gone, apart from peggy, who after a little while, was gone too.

thread was still attached to him, he felt it, it was heavy, dragging him down in what felt like every step. the weight was there, but he didn’t see it.

not until a masked assassin stood in his path, mask strewn across concrete. his beautiful bucky was alive, and almost unrecognisable with the torment that surrounded him.

he cried that night.

eventually, after he fought through what felt like hell, he’d pulled bucky back from the torturous programming he’d been under. they’d come to realise that their thread, ignited since the 40’s had changed, it went in another direction.

“multiple soulmates huh?” buck realised, if steve was observant enough, he would’ve seen the defeat in his former best friend’s (now lover’s) language.

“i don’t think it will be a bad thing, it’s, exciting.”

bucky’s bit his lip, “maybe.”

it had taken years to let steve in again. he was on edge all of the time, was real panicky too. spent so much time locked in his room, and went between eating so much his stomach hurt and not having an appetite at all. it felt undeserving to have what he wanted, to have a soulmate, to be potentially happy after what he’d done.

the lives he’d taken.

the guilt had crushed him, and the self hatred never dulled. he didn’t deserve steve, he was too good. too sweet, too soft. too, steve.

when it became clear that someone else was out there, linked to steve and him, he panicked. it had been hard enough coming to terms that steve didn’t hate him, didn’t blame him. no one else could get close, what if he hurt them? what if they took steve?

what if this string thing didn’t work out all the time? everything was fine with steve. he felt safer than ever, with a calm so alien to him.

it wasn’t purposeful, but whenever the other string popped up, every time he went to touch it, it frayed. like the bond didn’t want him.

time after time it dissolved after bucky touched it, no matter how gentle or rough, it vanished. it was humiliating. after a while he just swiped at it whenever it did reappear, wanting it gone. it was just there to insult him. of course it would fray when he touched it, it was naive of him to think that a killer, someone drenched in the blood of others, could be wanted.

steve would disagree of course.

steve loved him with every fibre of his being, so fiercely it was near startling. it was more than he deserved. every embrace was simultaneously his oxygen and his undoing.

captain america was righteous, strong. believed in bucky and nursed him back to ‘health’ as much as he could. rogers was more than a tight suit and a impenetrable shield. he was everything.

he knew that steve was searching for their other, other half. knew that he was excited to meet them, wanted to show bucky that it would be a good thing. steve hadn’t accounted for one thing, bucky’s fear.

bucky was internally petrified of losing his everything.

he swiped at the string over and over, and the guilt was way lesser than the fear.

the name you’d gotten was steve, which you knew from the moment his trademarked straw hair and ocean eyes filled your vision, you’d quickly texted your friends not to worry.

followed string, please hold onto that jacket, it’s my favourite. i’ll be sad if you lose it :(

he had ordered two coffees, “this may take a while.” the man wrung his hands nervously, it was mildly comforting to know you weren’t the only one with a pounding heart and a sweaty brow.

“you’re different than i thought you’d be.” it had come out in a splutter, scrounging for a conversation, it would be embarrassing to confess you just wanted to hear him talk more.

the raise in his brow only made your heart thud faster, eyes becoming half amused and half apprehensive. “how so? i’m sorry if uh, don’t cut it.”

you had practically interrupted him, “no - you’re just, i mean for one you’re captain america. makes sense why i couldn’t find you, you’ve probably been all over the place.” after years of pondering about your soulmate, finally coming face to face with one of them was exhilarating and overwhelming. and you couldn’t stop talking, spilling too many words. it was a wonder that he kept up. “and secondly, you cut it, how you look is borderline unfair to the general public.”

you had caught him off guard, and his laugh, it came from his chest. deep, rich and warm. “fighting takes you all over. i’m glad - that i cut it. been worrying that you were making it disappear, that you didn’t want to see me - us.”

mid sip, you halted. he drank his own coffee with a small smile. “you uh, know the other one?”

his lips quirked up more, a fondness shining in his pupils, “you could say that.” steve cleared his throat, thumbing the handle of the coffee cup, “i’ve known him my whole life,” he hesitated, “his name is bucky.”

everyone who’d paid attention to the news was aware who this ‘bucky’ was. captain america’s best friend who was taken in by hydra and brainwashed so severely he’d lost himself along the way, who was used as a weapon for a long, long time.

steve was prepared for a bad reaction, people weren’t always understanding when it came to buck. more often than not, they’d call him a killer or become uncomfortable. it made him incredibly protective, and he struggled to stay present in a conversation after judging bucky so poorly.

“you don’t need to be on edge you know.” you spoke, spotting the super soldier’s tense posture. “i know who he is,” you started carefully, sweeping across the expanse of steve’s face, “and anyone with a brain knows what happened to him, is not his fault.”

steve inhaled with a shaky, but relieved breath. “thank yo-“

“you don’t need to,” you cut in, “i’ve been waiting for years, for you, for you both technically.” a blush quickly swarmed your cheeks, and you broke the eye contact between the two of you. the rest of the sentence was silent, but steve would’ve decoded it as: i don’t give up so easily.

being connected by fate to one extremely attractive man was already hard to grasp. but two of them? it was almost sending you to an early grave. it was easy to see just from a small interaction that steve was sweet, protective, handsome and you were bound to him.

“he’s a tough nut to crack.” a part of you laughed at the innuendo, but outwardly, just managed to keep it in. “he’s probably worried, said i’d be back by 5, always make sure im never late.”

“trying to escape already?” you teased, before asking for his number. he fumbled around with his phone, shaking his head at your question. it was slightly endearing how steve’s fingers shook as he pulled up his contact details. despite the pair of you trying to appear confident, you were equally as nervous and giddy.

as soon as you finished inputting the information, the door to the cafe dinged, and in walked the reincarnation of sin itself. brown messy hair and the most hypnotising steel irises. red thread wrapped around the metal of his arm beautifully. you sucked in a breath, not out of fear of who bucky was, but the dawning realisation you were linked with perhaps the prettiest men on earth.

his face was hard set, pulled taut and serious. clinically, and methodically, he swept over the cafe until he found his target. the tension from the man visibly eased, enough so that he didn’t even clock the person sitting across from steve. who, if he had noticed, was staring at him unashamedly.

“it’s 6, you’re never late.” bucky narrowed his stare pointedly, quickly checking to see if steve was perhaps held back by an injury. when he found nothing, he almost looked offended.

steve’s lids fluttered at the timbre of his partners voice greeting him, “mhm.” amusement quickly overcame his expression, “well, i was busy.”

“busy with what?” bucky almost growled, frowning at the pleased glint present in steve’s pupils, and how his partner seemed smug. he was happy about not coming home? he’d been waiting at home like a damn dog, until noticing the string and following it to steve like he was on a mission. steve shifted to look at you, and couldn’t help the smile that burst from him. oh you were perfect. not afraid or judgmental of bucky at all, you instead looked all but ready to devour the ex assassin.

at steve’s silence, and sudden interest looking at something else, bucky cranked his head to the side. all words dying on his tongue the second he caught onto you, the string cocooning you and your ecstatic half crinkled eyes. “oh.”

“oh.” steve echoed with a poorly hidden smirk, anxiety tugging at his chest, waiting to see how bucky would react. it all depended on this moment.

it was basically a staring contest with the amount of eye contact between the two of you. it was like bucky was searching for something within you, trying to dig into your core and assess what laid there. “this is an acceptable reason for being late.” and with that, he turned away.

steve sighed exasperated, “i’m sorry for him, that, that was rude buck.” back in the 40’s bucky was an unrivalled gentleman, polite to women and men alike. he was guarded, too much so. steve had desperately wanted to forge a connection with their third partner, and didn’t expect bucky to seem almost against it.

“don’t apologise for me.” he withheld a small scowl, flicking back and forth between steve and you. it didnt deter you, rationally maybe it should have, but you waited 5 years. you’d be damned if you gave up on the first hurdle. steve had said he was a ‘tough nut to crack’, so cracked he would be.

“it’s alright,” you waved steve’s concern off, “it’s good to meet you, years of waiting was worth it.” you raised your hand expectantly, bucky hesitated, until stubbornly wrapping his metal fingers around your flesh ones. the lack of alarm or fright from touching the metal limb had him faltering.

you truly weren’t affected by him or the history and baggage he carried.

with a confidence you weren’t sure you had, you leant closer, heart hammering at a speed that felt dangerous. slowly, and tentatively, you placed a tender kiss upon the back of the silver hand. bucky’s reaction was a sucked in breath and a sharp twitch in the prosthetic limb. it was almost as if he’d felt the sensation coursing through him. “i am sorry for keeping your partner, do forgive me.”

“i’ll think about it.” his stoic facade bled at the edges, challenged by the smallest lopsided lift of his lips. “here again, tomorrow at 2.” he all but demanded, pulling away and walking towards steve.

“bucky! you can’t just - buck!” the blonde groaned, jumping at bucky interlinking their hands and dragging him away. before he was completely swept, steve fumbled through his wallet and laid money on the table for the coffees, “i hope tomorrow at 2 is convenient.”

“i’ll think about it.” you replied, slyly laughing at steve before he disappeared through the glass cafe door.

there was no doubt about it, they would cram into every space hidden within your head, without any resistance. one interaction with them both, and you were a goner.

you leant into your hands, muffling the borderline painful grin painted on your face. after a moment, you turned on your phone, sending the fastest text.

you are never going to believe this, i’m coming back for my jacket, and for drinks.

your index hovered over the new contact in your phone, and before you could think it through, you typed away.

you both cut it ps. do you or bucky want flowers or chocolates?

a/n: so i started this fic today, and it was meant to be a very short one, more of a drabble than anything. i’ve become more attached than initially expected, and it became a longer fic. divider credits are me just in case anyone was about to ask about them, i might post them!! i think i need some more to do a batch though.

i don’t normally see more confident readers/a mix of flustered and confident, and i’m not sure how well received it will be because of that. i hope there’s people that can appreciate a cheeky hand kiss and a little bit of flustered steve and bucky. reader would spoil them both, gifts and open affection, would be so supportive and protective, steve and bucky would end up so possessive of them in return.

i hope you’ll enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it !! merry early christmas <33

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All Star Wars references in "The Enigma of the High Visionary" explained:

Since some people asked for it/were posting that they didn't get the references, here it is explained by a SW fan: 1. "Your child, his vision count is off the charts. I've never sensed a power like it." So, in the SW universe, there is this mysthical entity called The Force, that allows you to do some cool ass shit and some people cannot commune with The Force at all, some are Force Sensitive and possess the ability to tune into it and use it and some individuals are very Force Sensitive and very strong in the Force. In Episode I, The Phantom Menace, two Jedi knights discover a slave boy on the remote planet of Tatooine and they test his abilites/blood for this thing called a "midichlorian count" (which existance was highly devisive in the fandom), which is basically like a benchmark score for how sensitive you are to the Force. This boy, called Anakin Skywalker, had an insane midichlorian count and was basically the strongest known Force user in the galaxy. Also, there is this line of dialogue in TPM:

2. "How many vision-chlorians did you measure?" A pun on the midichlorian-measuring thing.

3. "It was higher than the Grand Visionary's." In the movies the two Jedis from the gif above comment on how this child's midichlorian count is higher that the count of Yoda, who was one of the most powerful Force Users at the time and the spiritual leader of the Jedi Order.

4. "He must join us. He will join us." So, in Episode V, Empire Strikes Back, we learn that Darth Vader is the biological father of Luke Skywalker (sorry for the 45 year old spoilers!) and he tries to convince his son to join the Dark Side (i.e., the bad guys) and be Evil Together. He goes to great lenghts to convince his son to join him, as Darth Vader's boss would most likely kill Luke if he didn't prove himself as useful to him/Vader.

5. "I am a high-functioning dad" Not really a SW reference, but Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader was an absolutely shitty father. 5. "- At the council? - The Council have been blinded for too long. They don't recognise me. The granted me the... the rank of Vision Knight, but they don't let me sit upon the Council!" In Episode III, Revenge of the Sith, Anakin Skywalker gets a seat on the Jedi Council (the highest governing body of the Jedi Order), but is denied a promotion to the rank of Jedi Master. This makes him blow up and leads to this scene that has been so memed to death I can quote that shit in my sleep:

6. "Not just the men, but the women, and the children too." A direct quote copied from Episode II, Attack of the Clones, when Anakin murdered a bunch of people and told his crush about it.

7. "I thought we could watch your favourite film, The Phantom Menace." A lot of people thought this movie was absolute garbage (Sam included).

8. "I would love to watch The Phantom Menace, the best Star Wars movie." Sam hates it. 9. "happy-J" AJ loves it. 10. "I like how that alien sounds offensively Japanese.", "That looks a bit anti-semitic.", "Sure, that will age well." Some of the aliens in the prequels seem like thinly veiled stereotypes of some racial/ethnic groups, sometimes bordering on offensive. 11. Sam screaming "whooo waaaa bumballa" or something is him humming this song (which is a banger, just listen to this shit)

12. If you have watched the above clip to the very end, you will notice one of the Jedis got killed. This is what Sam references when he says "Liam Neeson just died."' 13. When Sam does the motorbike hands and engine noises, it's a reference to pod racing, which is basically the equivalent of motorbike racing.

14. "Meesa called Jar Jar Binks. Meesa Gungan." "That seems racist." In Episodes I and II there is this character called Jar Jar Binks, who is widely accepted to be the worst character in the history of cinema. He is also somewhat a Jamaican stereotype. 15. "I feel a presence." Force users can sense other Force users when they appear in a non-defined radius away from the user. The more familiar/stronger the Force user, the easier it is to pick up on their presence. 16. When Thomas Senior shows Thomas Junior to the High Visionary, it looks like the scene from Episode VII, The Return of the Jedi, when Darth Vader presents his son, Luke Skywalker, to his boss, Emperor Palpatine. Luke refuses to work with the Emperor, to the Emperor tries to kill him. Darth Vader then has a change of heart and saves his son by killing the Emperor. If I missed any, do let me know! (at the request of @shootfromthehipobsessed)