#( && oops i did it again.

[zillychu]

designs for a zine piece! enjoy some background story my illustration never needed under the read more (fair warning I did NOT edit this at all):

newbie mage apprentices Sam and Tucker who became friends bc they're kinda… the ones at the bottom of their class and struggle the most, for different reasons. they become besties over time and practice together!

except one night, something goes terribly wrong. they spent the last few nights preparing for a project, a bigger spell that needs an intricate circle with precise measurements to work. but when they try to activate it, well… 

oops. they summoned a demon.

which is, for one, extremely illegal. only certified demonologists are allowed to summon demons because they're so dangerous. anything less than a perfect binding circle and thoroughly researched info on the demon, including their true name, is even remotely safe.

but, weirdly enough… the demon seems just as surprised as they are. as Sam and Tuck frantically try to figure out how to dispel the demon, they realize–oh god, did their circle actually sufficiently bind the demon? it can't leave. they watch the demon tentatively poke it's claws into the air around the boundary, and watch it fizzle, retreating back with a strained hiss.

okay. okay, they can do this. without death looming over their heads, they can figure out how to send the demon back. it's cool, it's fine. except while they leaf through their books, they notice the demon watching them. it looks kind of… curious. timid. interested in what they're doing. it catches them noticing his staring, and it. apologizes? it seems flustered?

weird, okay. they keep looking, and the demon starts talking. at first, little comments to itself. mumbles that soon get just loud enough to hear. little “ooh, is that a telescope?" and “is that what fire looks like up here?" and “that must be for making charcoal…”

Sam is the one brave enough to be like "are all demons as chatty as you??” and the demon gets flustered again, apologizing. says he's just never been topside before, he's only read about humans in tomes. oh wow is that the moon outside? it really IS blue up here! is it always blue? what are you doing up? I thought humans slept at night?

Sam and Tuck can't help getting pulled in with the demon's genuine curiosity. they're wary though, since they know demons can be clever, conniving. there's a number of ways a demon can get the upper hand on a summoner who has them bound. if he gets their full names, gets them to smudge and break the circle… there could also be ways they aren't aware of. so they consider their words carefully, but engage in some chatter while they research.

it's almost morning by the time they find a way to send the demon back–but as they prepare the spell, the demon says WAIT WAIT and they stop, uncertain. the demon starts stammering out how this is weird but like… he really had fun tonight. he doesn't get to just hang out much, especially with anyone his age.

Tuck is like “how do you know our ages??" and the demon points out "oh, you said something about Paulie’s 18th birthday party, so I thought…” and they're both like oh shit we didn't even notice we did that?

“Paulina" Sam corrects in her dumbfounded stupor. 

“Right, Paulina!" the demon snaps his fingers, but quickly loses his confidence when Sam and Tuck continue to stare at him like they're not sure what's going on. he coughs and fidgets and says “um, well, I was just wondering, I guess… if you wanted to summon me another time, I wouldn't mind. you see those circles there? yeah, that's what summoned me. the candles helped too I think. oh, it doesn't need all those runes though, probably don't want to redraw all those.”

Sam and Tuck are practically gawking, but… for some reason, this demon looks so sincere. so much like them, awkward and lonely and genuinely curious.

it's a bad idea. a terrible one, even. the demon probably noticed they're newbies and not demonologists. it could be hoping they make an error in their circle, or mess up a candle, or reveal their names on accident. 

But, well. They're stupid. they're also eager for anything to help them in school, and too empathetic for their own good. they send the demon off with a yeah, no. they then think about it for a week, and end up summoning the demon against their better judgment.

the demon is shocked and so happy, they can't help but be a little endeared. they lay down some ground rules, take care to be as safe as possible… and soon, this demon that introduces himself as “Phantom" becomes a nightly visitor. they talk about their worlds, find out they share a lot of common interests, and help each other in their studies. which, hello, demons also study? bro are you serious??

they play games, laugh till their ribs hurt, and open up to each other on a far deeper level than anyone expected. over time, Phantom becomes a true friend.

Sam and Tuck quietly begin to lament the fact Phantom is stuck in that damn circle. they want to take him places, let him see the human world he seems so interested in. they want to paint his stupid claws and noogie him between his dumb horns and hug him.

but it's an astronomical risk. it's legal for a demonologist with a proper permit, but it's still considered a grave taboo to grant access to a demon outside a circle. there's just too much at risk. demons can be dangerous enough to lay waste to entire towns, take multiple teams of military-rank mages to take down.

they wouldn't risk it… if they hadn't snuck into the library’s restricted section and copy a page from a demonologist book that gives them good framework for a contract. they make some edits to it though, giving Phantom at least a little wiggle room to protect himself if need be. and allow him use of transformation magic so he can hide somehow. but they spend weeks making sure they have airtight wording to ensure Phantom can't cause anyone or anything any substantial harm. 

when they finally bring the contract to Phantom, he's stunned. he cries. nothing needs to be said, they all know the gravity of their proposal. even if they ask for proof of Phantom's trust in turn, first. they ask for his full name, so they can bind him. just temporarily. but in that moment, they'll have full control over him. they could instead tell Phantom to serve them, force him to obey their every order. even if it's just for a moment, giving them his full name with the proper circle and incantation, is putting his life in their hands. 

Phantom, with tears still in his eyes, smiles warmly and nods. with only a breath to steel himself, he gives them his full name. Daniel James Fenton.

magic sparks in the circle, and Sam and Tuck finish the incantation. ethereal chains sprout up to wrap around Phantom's arms and legs, which makes him jump–but the unwavering trust in his eyes makes the two humans choke up.

they release the binding. all that's left is to break the containment barrier in the circle, so Phantom can walk free.

“Uh, about that…” Phantom laughs sheepishly… then proceeds to step outside of the circle, merely wincing when the barrier zaps around him.

Sam and Tucker gawk. Phantom scratches his neck. “Y-yeah, so… your barrier circle was already broken that first night. It's, uh… right over there. You missed a spot.”

abject horror overcomes them because this entire time Phantom's been visiting, he could have broken out? EASILY?? THEY WOULD HAVE BEEN DEAD.

Tucker falls to his knees, but soon starts to laugh. it's kind of hysterical at first but slowly, he and Sam are genuinely laughing. they're so STUPID, and Phantom is the most un-demonlike demon they've ever HEARD of. Phantom is still flustered, stammering out apologies because he wasn't trying to deceive them or anything! he just didn't want to scare them! without a proper containment circle they technically couldn't send him back either, so he just… went back using his own magic each time they “dispelled" him. 

once they've calmed down, Phantom morphs his body into a human form–which shock Sam and Tuck, because uh, only elite demons are capable of that. they were expecting an animal, or straight up going invisible. Phantom laughs it off, says he just, spent a lot of time practicing bc he's so interested in the human world (not a lie, but). he proceeds to adopt the nickname Danny, and they all have FUN WONDERFUL SHENANIGANS

(and sometime in the near future, when faced with something truly threatening he needs to protect them from, Danny reveals that. well. their contract also had some holes in it. and he's had access to his full demon power this whole time. whoopsie! it's a good thing he genuinely loves them and doesn't want to hurt anyone, or their asses would be SO dead lol)

they're about as normal about his full demon form as you'd expect from me btw:

[justcallme-ange]

Happy 1 Year Little Comforts!! <3

Give or take a couple days - oops ^^;

One of the longest projects I've done to date!! <3 <3 <3 Thank you all so much for the support, as well as all the comments and tags! I love going through them and reading all the lovely messages. They're a great pick-me-up whenever I'm feeling demotivated. So thank you again <3

So for the anniversary I wanted to do a little thing where I point out some details in the comic I'm very proud of XD (Yes I'm tooting my own horn - shhh)

Three Wishes Dream asks Techno to promise him something 3 times. And only on the third one does Techno agree. I tried to frame it as both Techno being cautious about agreeing to things Dream proposes (a la favor) but also as Techno finally agreeing when everything was laid out and there was nothing Dream had left to hide. (It's like a fairytale trial - 3 challenges with the last having a great reward.) Forget-me-(k)not I don't know how prevalent they are now a days, but growing up I was a really forgetful child, and learned somewhere that by tying a knot on your finger when you need to remember something supposedly helps in you actually remembering. Which idk if true, it didn't really work on me, but the knot itself actually stuck, so in this case I used it for 3 things: A reminder that Dream was stuck in prison and needed help, a reminder that Phil needed to get Techno out of prison (eventually), and a reminder that Techno promised Dream he would free him. Scars So all the scars that I drew Dream with all actually have canonical reasons. So in order - the one across his nose was from Techno during their duel, the ones on his neck and chest were from Tommy taking two canon lives, the one on his lips were from Sam after first being detained, and the last on his chin (and arms) are from Quackity. Continuity The armor that Phil is wearing at the end is a reference to another illustration I did of the Doomsday Trio. It's post prison break so maybe it's a sequel? (This is less a detail and more just a personal thing - but my favorite page has to be page 7 - where Dream's image crumbles. It usually takes me at least 2 tries to get the look I want - this was one and done ^^) More behind the scenes - this comic (final version) started with the hug. I said initially the comic was supposed to be 6 pages at most, but I wanted to make the hug work so bad that I literally rewrote the comic. Only the first two pages are part of the original draft. Everything else was new. My brother literally sat with me for days going over each scene and making edits. OTL There were so many iterations - in the end I think there are at least 7 drafts of this comic. Cut Content Bonus: Unlike my other comic where the vision was there from the beginning, Little Comforts had some growing pains, and a few scenes had to be cut for it to work. So here ya go!

This was cut in favor of the shaking scene, some levity was needed to let the scene breathe, plus quoting my brother "It's more Techno".

Also wanted another hug, but editor and I felt that it took away from the pay off in the end.

Alternate version of 'he's a child' - originally it was supposed to go at the end of the comic, as an epilogue. Timing wise it ended up not working, which ended up with an even better gut punch so I'm not too upset. I may still render this....

[cvlutos]

Who do you think would take their bubble tea and get a tapioca into their mouth and then kiss you to push it into your mouth? And who would try to do it but mess up and thr tapioca awkward drops out of their mouth in front of you....

"BOBA DATE"

| 03.17.2022 | —K | PG-13 |

Multi X GN!Reader

| Characters 18+ | Fluff | Headcannons | Slightly Suggestive | Etc | Proceed with Caution, Dearest.

He grab your cheeks and drawing them to your lips, securely and effortlessly pushing the small tasty orbs into your mouth. They're thumb wiping over the corner of your lip, cleaning up and of the liquid that threatened to spill. He pulls away with a sly smile before acting as if nothing happened.

"I don't like the tapioca."

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR, Chen'ya, Jamil Viper, SAM, Malleus Draconia, JADE LEECH, Divus Crewel, Silver, & Vil Schoenheit [+ UR FAVES]

══════ ♡ ══════

He instructs you to open your mouth, having your tilt your head backward, and holding your mouth open by your cheeks, spitting balls of tapioca into your mouth, a wide grin watching you eat his saliva covered tapioca.

"I hope you like it."

FLOYD LEECH, Jade Leech, & Lilia Vanrouge [+ UR FAVES]

══════ ♡ ══════

He saw a video of it and thought it try it. He doesn't know why he did, practically rushing the kiss and in one fell swoop forcing the tapioca into your mouth. He pulls away when you choke and he's so embarrassed. Refuses to ever do it again. Can't even look at you.

"I don't know what I was thinking—just forget it!"

JACK HOWL, Idia Shroud, Cater Diamond, & Jamil Viper [+ UR FAVES]

══════ ♡ ══════

He had a whole plan and when he has the tapioca in his mouth and he chokes on it upon seeing you. He gets super embarrassed and tries to tell you he's fine as he chokes up tapioca.

"Im fine—No—Its nothing!"

TREY CLOVER, Rollo Flamm, Riddle Rosehearts, Kalim Al-Asim, Epel Felmier, ACE TRAPPOLA, AZUL ASHENGROTTO, Idia Shroud, Sebek Zigvolt, Dire Crowley, & Ruggie Bucchi. [+ UR FAVES]

══════ ♡ ══════

He's hyped himself up, has the tapioca in his mouth and as he's about to near you, he got far to excited and over stuffed his mouth, so he literally has tapioca slipping past his lips like he's a gumball dispenser.

"I.... Thats— Let's try that again..."

DEUCE SPADE, Epel Felmier, KALIM AL-ASIM, Rook Hunt. [+ UR FAVES]

══════ ♡ ══════

He won't. He refuses. That's so gross.

"I refuse. That's disgusting."

VIL SCHOENHEIT, Sebek Zigvolt, Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar, & MOVUS TREIN [+ UR FAVES]

══════ ♡ ══════

Drank and at all his Tapioca.

"Oops. My bad."

RUGGIE BUCCHI, ASHTON VARGAS& DIRE CROWLEY.

══════ ♡ ══════

Sharing his boba with you and his tapioca is your tapioca.

ROOK HUNT & NEIGE LEBLANCHE

ⓒ 2023 cvlutos — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.

[ashimetsu]

Trey's Party 【Reader x Trey Clover】 -chapter 1

: ̗̀➛ It's Trey's birthday! You and the Heartslabyul crew decide to throw him a surprise party. Riddle sends you off to pick up some extra supplies, when you run into the birthday boy himself. : ̗̀➛ Fluff/crack, Y/n gets flustered over Trey's Beautiful Bodyᵀᴹ, Trey's a little shit, some parts a little suggestive, reader can be read as gn in this chapter, however is fem in future chapters : ̗̀➛ 3.1k words : ̗̀➛ [a/n]: who doesnt love a trey birthday fic in *checks watch* march! was just Thinking About Him.. this got a lot longer than i intended it to be oops. i still have some ideas for this tho.. (chapter 2 later?!?!?) edit: there's a chapter 2 now lol : ̗̀➛ (chapter 1), chapter 2, chapter 3

"Streamers, tablecloths, partyhats... I think that should be everything."

You check off the list Riddle entrusted with you. Deuce severely underestimated how many materials you all needed for Trey's birthday party, leaving you to pick up what was missing. Typical, but you didn't mind the extra steps, and those boys can be a tad overwhelming. Some fresh air and a walk to Sam's shop is what you needed to clear your head.

"Thaaaaank you! Come again, my little imp!" Sam's voice booms as you wave out the door, arms full of various party supplies. You didn't think to bring a bag, nor did Riddle give you one. As you send Sam your goodbyes, a firm wall knocks straight into your chest, sending you and all your perfectly balanced supplies flying across the sidewalk.

"Shoot, prefect, didn't see you there," a voice calls from above.

You look up from the wreckage of the fall, a large shadow casting over your face. A tall, broad figure stands above you, hand outstretched to help you up.

"Trey?" you grab his hand as he pulls you up.

"Didn't see you there prefect," he eyes your possessions strewn about, "looks like you need a hand." He begins to pick up your fallen supplies.

"S-sorry, I guess I should look at where I'm going," you stammer, scrambling to pick up the party items. Oh. Party items. For Trey's party. A party he doesn't know about.

"Heh, no problem. You've got plenty of stuff here, throwing a party or something?" he questions, throwing you his signature smirk.

It's his birthday, can't he piece two and two together? Or is he playing some mind game with you, trying to make you slip up and admitting to throwing him a birthday party? If you soiled the surprise, you wouldn't hear the end of it from Ace and the others...

"N-no, no no. Nothing like that. Just uh, helping Cater out," you fib off the top of your head. "For his photo shoot."

"Oh? First I've heard of a photo shoot for Cater."

"Um.. yeah. Pretty under the covers. Best not to tell anyone."

"...right." Trey is still giving you a strange look. Seems like you haven't convinced him yet.

"Bikini photo shoot," you blurt out "Cater's doing a bikini photo shoot."

Trey stops midway picking up a package of streamers. Silence lays heavy upon you two after you dropped that bomb of information on him. After a moment, he finishes grabbing your fallen belongings and clears his throat.

"In October. Didn't know there was a market for male bikini models out of season."

"Yeah, me neither. You'd be surprised."

"Huh."

Silence again. Definitely not awkward or anything.

"Well I certainly don't want to interrupt Cater, or get wrapped up in his shenanigans, for that matter," he starts, "but you've got way too much stuff to carry to Heartslabyul on your own. Curiosity has got me by the tail, so I'll head back with you."

Shit. Trey's gonna come back with you and there's no convincing him otherwise. Did the bikini photo shoot lie work...? If you're bringing him back, then you have to alert the others.

"Oh, one second Trey. I think I left my wallet inside," you lied.

He nods and you make your escape back into Sam's. Quickly, you whip out your phone and open the "TREY CLOVER SECRET PARTY SURPRISE!!!!!🎊🥳👯‍♀️" Magicam group chat. Very subtle name choice, Cater.

Y/n: Bad news guys

Y/n: Just ran into Trey outside of sam's shop (literally) and now he's coming with me to heartslabyul

Y/n: And I might have told him that we're planning a bikini photo shoot for Cater

Ace: what.

Y/n: I ran away for a second but I'm gonna start walking back soon

Y/n: Get Cater in a bikini ASAP

Cater: wtf

Ace: ur our of ur mind if u think im wearing that crap

Cater: i mean no biggie prefect but this is supposed to be treys bday party 😭😭

Riddle: Ugh, looks like we have no choice. Trey's coming prematurely and he's expecting a bikini photo shoot. What a disaster.

Cater: wait wait guys i have an idea

Cater: prefect just keep doin what ur doin and bring trey here 😈

Y/n: Don't trust that idea

Y/n: Whatever I'm omw

You slip your phone back in your pocket and head back outside to meet Trey. You're a little nervous to see what Cater has planned, but you have no choice but to trust him and bring the victim to Heartslabyul. Trey grins at you and has mostly everything tucked under his arms, save for a package of balloons left on the cobblestone.

"Sorry I couldn't get everything," he laughs sheepishly, as if he wasn't totally showing off his ripped stature. Are you blushing? Butterflies creep up your throat as you stare at his toned arms, exposed after he rolled up his sleeves. A bead of sweat rolls down his sharp jawline, leaving a slight sheen on his face. You're drawn to how hes carefully holding your supplies, being sure nothing is crushed. What would it be like to be a partyhat, snug in Trey's muscular arms, protected, held. It dawns on you that you get to walk the whole way back to Heartslabyul with him. Just you and him. Alone. The more you think about him the hotter your face gets. This could be a problem.

"Prefect? You ready to head out?" Trey's question snaps you out of your daydream as you face the mission at hand. Right. Secure Trey and safely escort him to Heartslabyul. Should be no issue, right?

"Oh, yeah," you stumble on your words as you attempt to regain your focus. A chilly gust blows through, giving you the shivers "I'd really like to be out of cold." Although the temperature was low, your face still felt hot from embarrassment and ogling Trey's body. You pray that the walk to the Hall of Mirrors goes by quickly, you don't know how much longer you can be in his presence without imploding from sheer embarrassment. The thought of you smacking directly into Trey and making a mess of all your equipment is playing on loop in your head, making you want to run away and hide in shame. Not only that, but trying to make up an excuse for his birthday party. A bikini photo shoot? Seriously? You curse yourself for not being able to think of something more believable. However, you're glad Trey is one of the few genuinely nice people on campus. Had it been anyone else... things could've been pretty sour. You heave a sigh after thinking so hard. This birthday party better end up being good for all the trouble you've gone through so far.

"Are you feeling okay? You seem out of focus" Trey says, snapping you out of thought for the second time today.

"I'm fine, really. Just a little chilly from the wind, that's all." You curse at yourself for not bringing a jacket, but you also weren't planning on being outside this long.

Trey halts and sets your things down. You pause and look at him, wondering what's gotten into his head. He pulls his white jacket and vest off and hands it to you, leaving him in a plain white tee.

"Take it. You might catch a cold without it." He grins while holding his jacket out to you. You can feel a warm blush creeping up your face.

"What? No Trey, if I take it, then you're going to catch a cold," you argue. "Plus, you've already helped me so much today, I can't take any more from you."

"Eh, I was getting warm anyways. Carrying all your stuff isn't an easy task, you know." He winks at you, causing your heart to run a marathon.

You see the opportunity and apprehensively take his jacket. Warm to the touch, even softer when it's covering your body. It's way too big on you, sleeves stretching much farther than your arms and the body drapes halfway down your thighs. Not only are you warm, but his scent lingers on his jacket, filling your nostrils. You've only gotten a few whiffs of Trey before, mostly while baking with him, but he smells incredible. It's sweet with a hint of pine, subtle, but not too subtle for you to not take notice. Wearing his everyday jacket feels like ecstasy, your body enveloped in a permanent Trey-hug. You hope he can't see the pink on your face, you surely must be blushing by now. You're wearing his jacket that he gave to you. That's a win in your book.

"Thanks, I feel much better," you smiled as you helped him pick up his load again. And you do feel much better, warm and protected by Trey's physical force field generated by the jacket. Nothing could rain on your parade now, unless...

"Did you feel that? I think we're forecasted for some rain today, and the clouds seem pretty da-"

Trey's sentence is cut off from a loud crack that echoes from above. Shit. Was it really supposed to rain today? You and Trey are about halfway to the Hall of Mirrors, maybe if you hurry, you can beat the rain.

Or not.

After the thunder echoes away, a drizzle begins to fall over campus. Great. Just what you two needed today, to be soaked in rain before Trey's birthday party. Rather, "Cater's bikini photo shoot". You and Trey begin to pick up the pace of walking when the drizzle turns into a downpour in an instant. Big drops of water soak both of you as you try and outrun the rain.

"C'mon prefect, inside before we're drenched!" Trey shouts as he grabs your arm and pulls you along. How he's managing to drag you along while carrying all your supplies is a mystery to you. You look at Trey as you're both running to safety and a twinge of guilt settles in your gut. This could have been avoided if you didn't clumsily run into him outside of Sam's shop. Then, he wouldn't have to carry all your stuff, get drenched in rain, and have his birthday party ruined by a stupid bikini photo shoot. Plus, your other Heartslabyul companions wouldn't have to scramble to change plans quick. How did you manage to turn his birthday into a total disaster?

You and Trey burst through the double doors of the Hall of Mirrors, huffing and puffing after running through the rain. You're both drenched from the sudden downpour. Even Trey's jacket, which kept you so warm only moments earlier, is completely soaked with rainwater. So much for enjoying the heat of Trey's-forever-hug. You look over at Trey and almost stop feeling bad for a moment. His white shirt is plastered to his chest, which is rising and falling rapidly as he tries to catch his breath. You're hopeless to the view of seeing the outline of his muscles along with the wet sheen along his arms. Feeling like you're invading his body, you quickly break your stare and look at the ground, trying to hide the heat that once again crept up your face.

"I'm really sorry," you blurt out suddenly. "If I didn't run into you and make you carry all my stuff to Heartslabyul, you wouldn't be in this mess right now. You'd even have your jacket to protect you from the rain too. All this wasn't even for anything important, just a stupid photo-"

"Say, can you do me a favor?" Trey interrupts you, and you look up at him in surprise. As if he hasn't given you enough already, his black glasses are outstretched to you in his hand.

"Your shirt is still dry right? Mind if I borrow it to clean these up? I'm totally soaked."

"Y-yeah that's fine," you stammer, surprised that he interrupted you for something like this. You reach for his glasses, but he takes a step closer to you instead. He grabs the hem of your dry undershirt and uses it dry the droplets off his lenses. It almost feels intimate with how close you are, breathing in his space. If you weren't already encased by the scent of his jacket, you would definitely be able to smell him now with how close he's gotten.

"I'm not blaming you for this little encounter with the rain, you know," he says quietly enough that only you can hear. "I offered to help you, knowing it was going to rain. I wanted to make sure you got to your destination safely."

Your face heats up for the umpteenth time, and you have nowhere to hide it this time with Trey looking directly at you.

"Plus," he continues, his face getting closer to your ear, "it's cute seeing you get flustered over everything I do."

Oh. So he has noticed every time you've gotten embarrassed during the past hour. Wonderful.

"Trey, enough with it," you whisper back.

He takes a step back and puts his glasses back on, making you wish he would've just stayed close to you.

"Alright alright, I'll quit teasing you. I thought I'd indulge myself for today," he says with his usual sheepishness.

If you knew he liked teasing you so much, maybe you would have avoided him for today if you had the choice. You feel your phone buzz and see a message from the Magicam group chat.

Ace: whats ur eta? i think we're just about wrapped up here

Ace: please tell me u didnt blow it again and change the story again

"One second Trey, Ace is messaging me."

"What a buzzkill."

Y/n: We just made it to the hall of mirrors, be there soon

Y/n: This party better be worth it

Deuce: You and me both, prefect

"You ready to head in?" you ask Trey after putting your phone away. You still have a mission to accomplish!

"Yeah, let's go. My arms will finally have a rest once we're inside," he quips back.

"You said you'd quit teasing me."

"My bad."

You and Trey make your way into the dorm, uneasy with what you're about to see. Did they really prep for a photo shoot? Or did they just stick with a half-assed birthday party with only half the supplies? As you both open the doors to the foyer, your jaws hit the floor.

Cater's body is out for display on the dorm couch, garbed only with a bright red speedo. His hair is in his usual style, a half-up pony, but now donned with sparkly red sunglasses atop his head. A glob of white sunscreen is stuck on his nose, imitating a cartoon lifeguard. He's holding a large beach ball with one arm, his phone in the other. On either side, Ace and Deuce are dressed similarly with swimshorts instead of speedos and plain black sunglasses over their eyes. Both of them look unimpressed while fanning Cater with cheap decorative fans, presumably leftover from New Years. Riddle stands behind a tripod with a camera mounted to it. A ring light is placed in front of the tripod, lighting up Cater's face with a perfect warm glow. Most of the equipment probably belonged to Cater, seeing that he uses it for Magicam posts. You didn't expect there to be an actual setup, neither did Trey by the look on his face.

"Oh hey Trey," Cater speaks up, "grab a fan."

"My god Y/n, I thought you were joking." Trey deadpans.

"I thought I was too..."

"I don't joke about showbiz, Trey." Cater looks deadly serious.

A beat.

Another.

Who's going to speak up first?

"...kidding! C'mon you two, we're just messing around! Happy b-day Trey-Trey!" Cater pipes up after a moment of awkward silence, "also, did you guys swim through a river to get here? You're both absolutely soaked."

"Really? I didn't notice anything coming in," you deadpan back, "did you see any rain, Trey?"

"Hmm, not that I saw. I mean, we were walking together after all."

"Okay you two, no need for the 'tude," Cater replies.

"I think I can have some 'tude' after going through a downpour for, what's this, a bikini party? Nice birthday party, guys." Trey's glare burns holes into Cater's perfectly lit face.

"It was prefect's idea," Ace blurts out before Trey can unleash his disapproval. You shoot a look in Ace's direction and he smirks in response.

"Oh? So you didn't like it when I was teasing you, but the idea of a bikini photo shoot was fine by you?" He nudged your arm, feigning anger. His wink was the cherry on top. You were sick of his winking.

"I only said that to keep the surprise birthday part a secret! Give me a break guys," you groan.

"Can we put our clothes back on now?" Deuce interjects, "Trey knows the truth, I think we can get on with the actual birthday party."

"I agree. This running joke has gone on long enough. Sorry Trey if this had made you upset, we'll do our best to make it up to you," Riddle says with a sigh.

"No worries guys, I guess I can't be too upset if prefect came up with the idea and Riddle approved of it," Trey replies, scratching the back of his head. "Besides, I think we're gonna need a change of clothes too." You almost forgot that you and Trey were soaked in rainwater.

Ace grumbles some "about time" and leaves to change, Deuce, Cater, and Riddle following suit.

"B-t-dubs, Trey, we set up the real party in the kitchen, but prefect will have to help you put the rest of it together! GL!" he says with a wave before exiting to his room to put some proper clothes on, leaving you and Trey alone in the foyer.

"Some surprise huh? I sure hope the rest of the party is somewhat normal,"

"Ugh, I'm just ready to be in some warm clothes and eat some good food..." you mumble.

You suddenly realize that you are in Heartslabyul, not Ramshackle. You don't have a spare set of warm, dry, clothes here. Trey must have noticed your error, or saw the expression on your face as you realized.

"Don't worry, I think I still have some old clothes you can wear, or I can ask Riddle. He might be more your size."

"That'd be great."

"And hey, you could return them at the end of the night," he snakes his arm around your waist and brings you closer, "as an apology gift, for screwing up my birthday party, no?"

You can practically hear his smug look as he tells you everything you need to know about his "plans" with you after the party. Happy birthday to you, Trey.

[drabbles-mc]

Turn of the Tide (2/2)

Pirate!Stucky AU

Summary: After years apart thinking that they would never see each other again, Steve and Bucky come face to face under circumstances neither of them ever would have dreamed of.

Warnings: 18+, minor blood/injury, angst (with a happy ending), pining, alcohol

For the Alternate June-iverse prompt: Pirates

Part 1 can be found HERE

Word Count: 8.4k (oops)

A/N: It took me forever to find time to go back and edit this part but we got it done! I love this little au and I will be thinking about Pirate Stucky for a long time.

MCU Taglist: @artemiseamoon @garbinge @late-to-the-party-81 (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

The sky was slowly changing from black to grey as they got closer to sunrise. Bucky had faded in and out of sleep, the rest of his crew in much the same situation. He had a feeling that over the next couple of hours exhaustion would completely take over them regardless of the rising sun. Sam had gone and traded off with someone a little while before. Steve had turned away a few of his men offering to take up the helm. The shift in the sky clued him in to just how long he had been awake, though, so the next time someone offered he allowed them to take it.

The smart thing to do would’ve been to scamper off to his quarters, try and get some rest while he still could especially now that their typical merchant run had the potential to turn into something else entirely. There was the possibility of having much more to answer for once they reached their destination, and Steve had no idea what to do about any of it.

Rather than doing the smart thing and getting whatever sleep he could, Steve made his way back across the deck. His steps were quiet as he strode up to the mast where they had all the men tied. Bucky was the only one awake at the moment, and he had been staring, watching Steve the entire time. He looked up as Steve stopped in front of him, not saying anything until the captain spoke up and said something first.

“We need to talk,” Steve finally said, trying to sound serious but just sounding tired instead.

“We can talk here.” Bucky matched his tone, every ounce of exhaustion being reflected.

Steve sighed, not wanting to argue but not willing to back down this time. “C’mon.”

“Can’t say it here?” he asked, a challenge in his tone. Despite that he was still keeping his voice low, a pointed effort to make sure that none of his men woke up.

“James.” He let it serve as its own sentence, exasperation coming through even with so few words being spoken.

“I’m not—”

“We need to talk.” He saw the look in Bucky’s eyes that he was going to come back with another argument, some thinly veiled reason why they had to talk here or they wouldn’t talk about it at all. “Keep the ropes on, if that makes you feel better,” Steve said, almost like a joke but he was perfectly serious, and he knew that Bucky would be too.

Bucky almost gave into it but then shook his head. “I’m not—”

He stopped short when Steve leaned down, expertly slicing through the rope that was keeping him pinned to the mast but not the one that was keeping his wrists tied together. Seconds later Steve’s hand was wrapping around his bicep all over again, yanking him up off the ground. He meant to fight against it but he was still having trouble wrapping his head around how much things had changed. Never in a million years did he think that Steve would be able to yoke him up off the deck with such ease.

“And I’m not asking,” was all Steve said as he started to drag Bucky back towards his sleeping quarters, one of the only places where they could get anything resembling privacy.

Steve pushed the door open, dragging Bucky inside with him. He’d been prepared for more resistance, but once he got Bucky to his feet it was like all the fight drained out of him. Steve had brought him along like an unruly dog on a leash, going along because there was only so far he could get if he didn’t.

“Steve, I told you—”

“Listen to me,” Steve spoke up, his voice still firm, still quiet, “this is about your crew. And you. What,” he shook his head, “what am I supposed to do when we reach port?”

It wasn’t funny but Bucky was still smiling anyway. The inevitability of it all was something that he had been wrestling with for years, on and off acceptance levels with it all. Clearly Steve hadn’t ever given it much thought, never really had to. His perspective of it was always going to be different anyway—he was never going to be the one getting handed over to authorities, thrown in jail or strung up in a noose in the public square. Steve was safely outside all of that, always had been. However, Bucky could tell by the look on his friend’s face, if he could still call him that, that Steve hadn’t ever given much thought to having to be the man who handed others over for that type of fate. It wasn’t sitting well, clearly. Bucky wondered if he would’ve had the same crisis of faith if it had been anyone else who stormed his ship. Would there be the same hesitation if Steve wasn’t looking at him and seeing James?

“Think you know the answer to that,” Bucky finally answered.

“Don’t,” Steve said softly, wearily.

“What else is there?” He shrugged as best he could with his hands still bound behind his back. “You let us go, or you turn us over.”

“I can’t just…” he trailed off, not sure what he wanted to end the sentence with.

He couldn’t just let them go—his own crew would never allow that after everything. But he didn’t think that he could just hand them over when they got there, either. Steve went years blaming himself for what happened to Bucky before and it wasn’t really his fault at the core of it. This, though? There would be no way to deny that the fallout would rest squarely on Steve’s shoulders. He didn’t want to lose him again. Last time he lost him as James and he came back as Bucky, but there would be no coming back a few years down the road with a different name if he followed through with this. The fact that it happened once was an astronomical stroke of luck.

“You have to,” Bucky said simply. “Make the call and stay with it. Live with it.”

Steve ran his hands back through his hair as he started to pace the room. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that Bucky took the opportunity sit on the edge of Steve’s bed. There were so many things swirling around the inside of his head that he couldn’t slow down and pick one. The sun just kept rising, taking away more time that Steve didn’t have to figure everything out. So many pressing issues and yet when he was finally able to focus on one thought long enough to ask it, he didn’t say anything having to do with the future.

“Why didn’t you ever come home?” Steve asked. “All these years. Never came, never even…” he trailed off, suddenly unsure of what he really expected of James now that he knew the circumstances of it all. “All this time I thought—”

“It wasn’t that easy. I couldn’t just,” he shook his head, a fresh sense of awareness of the ridges and divots of scarring on his arm even through the fabric of his shirt. “It wasn’t that easy.”

There were more questions that Steve wanted to ask, conversations that he wanted to have, but there just wasn’t the time. If he didn’t figure out a plan soon there wasn’t ever going to be time. Walking over, he sat down on the edge of the bed beside Bucky.

“I know,” he finally admitted, although there was no way that he knew the half of it. With a sigh, he pulled his knife out and sliced through the ropes on Bucky’s wrists. Steve was expecting him to pull away, fight him on it, but he didn’t. Instead, he let out a small huff of relief at no longer having the ropes pulling at his skin.

Bucky ran his hands over the indentations left behind by the ropes. “If it wasn’t you, it would have been someone else.” He let out a deep sigh. “Time always runs out.”

“It doesn’t have—”

“What, then?” he asked, the anger in his tone not really directed at Steve, but he was long past wanting any sort of false hope. “You said it yourself, you can’t—”

“I don’t know what.” While Steve could appreciate the difference in their positions, he didn’t need Bucky to sit there and reiterate back to him the circumstances that they were in. He knew full-well. “But there has to be something. I can’t,” he paused to hide the crack threatening to slice its way through his voice, “I won’t just hand you over like that.”

“Your men won’t allow otherwise.”

“They don’t have a say—”

“They do,” Bucky’s voice was firm. “They do and you know that. Besides, I told you, I won’t weasel out of this and eave the rest of my crew to hang.”

The sadness in Steve’s eyes was almost too much to bear. “James…”

“What I said, I didn’t say it just because they were sitting next to me. I meant it. If there isn’t a solution for all of us, then you will just have to find it in yourself to hand me over with them.”

“I won’t do it,” Steve said, trying to remain adamant despite the weight accumulating inside his chest. “I’ll figure something out. I’ll…I’ll get my men on-board.”

Bucky laughed quietly. Still stubborn, still unconcerned in the face of impossible odds. How Steve had changed so much and yet so little over the years was almost admirable. Bucky wished that he’d had the means to remain so steadfast. He looked at Steve and then at the small window that looked out onto the deck, the thin strip of sky and ocean just visible beyond.

“Better figure something out quick, Stevie.” There was still a tiny grin on his face despite it all as he nodded towards the window, hands no longer rubbing at his wrists. “Sun’s up now. Time’s running out.”

The gears were visibly turning in Steve’s head. “Will you wait here, at least? While I figure it out?”

He sighed as he shook his head, tracing his fingers along his wrists once more, savoring a few more seconds without the restraint and the residual pain from it. “I can’t.”

“You could,” Steve argued, a lightness to his tone that hadn’t been there before, like there was humor to it all. Ridiculousness if nothing else.

He could, but he didn’t. In no time at all Bucky found himself right back alongside his men. He was met with a peppering of questions from members of his crew, rightfully so, about what had transpired when Steve pulled him away. He answered them honestly, not that the honest answers really provided anyone with any type of certainty. There was none to be had given their current circumstances. Their fate now rested in Steve’s hands, and his ability to persuade his crew to do something that they undoubtedly had no interest in doing.

The conversation was taking place just too far away to make out the exact words that were being said, regardless of how hard Bucky tried. But even if he couldn’t make out each word, he could hear the rise and fall of the volume, the anger in men’s tones as they argued about it all. He wished that he could’ve heard what Steve was saying, never mind the rest of them. Whatever the fallout, Bucky hoped that he would get a chance to ask him about it.

“I never asked,” the same man from before spoke up, once more drawing Bucky’s attention away from everything else, “what your life was before all this. Was never my business then. But now?” He looked over at Steve and his crew. “Now it feels like our business.”

Bucky shook his head. “We were just kids. It’s been too long to assume that it all still matters.”

He chuckled. “Seems like it matters to him.”

The weary smile crept back onto his face again. “Won’t matter to the rest of them. That’s what this is all hinging on.”

“Didn’t think I’d find myself in the position of rooting for him,” he admitted with another laugh, “and yet here I am.”

Bucky let his gaze drift back over to Steve and his crew. “Yeah, here we are.”

He and the rest of his crew were already prepared for whatever was coming their way. They’d abandoned the idea of any other outcome besides the worst the moment Steve’s crew congregated to decide their fate. The longer the conversation went on, the more likely it seemed that hanging was going to be the only out.

Bucky had allowed his eyes a minute to rest, and when he opened them again to the sound of footsteps, he was surprised to see that it wasn’t Steve standing in front of him, but a member of the crew instead. The same man who had stayed up almost the entire night right alongside Steve.

“The captain wouldn’t ever say it,” Sam said as he crouched down so he was on the same level as the rest of the men, but most importantly Bucky, “but I will—you all should be grateful to him for this.”

One of the men in Bucky’s crew spoke up before he could. “Grateful for what, exactly?”

Sam leaned to try and get a better look at whoever it was that had said that. “Grateful that he’s willing to cut you all loose and save you from hanging in the center of the square once we make port.”

Bucky was fighting to feel some sense of relief but there was no way that it was going to be so simple. “At what cost?”

“Give it all up,” Sam said, toying with the knife in his hand, one that was only inches away from cutting the lot of them free if they agreed to the short and simple list of terms. “The lives you’ve had up until now, piracy and prizes. Leave it all behind, join our crew, then we can cut you loose. Forget,” he sighed, notes of bitterness underlying it all, “that all of this ever happened.”

“That simple, eh?” the man beside him spoke up and Bucky wondered when he lost the title of the man with the quickest wit of his own crew.

“Simple doesn’t mean easy,” Sam replied, and something about the look in his eyes told Bucky that that sentence was something Steve said at some point during their discussion. Sam looked around at all of them. “Leave you to discuss—”

“There’s nothing to discuss,” Bucky said, determined to be the first one to speak up this time, determined not to let his men cost themselves their only shot at something resembling freedom. “We’ll do it.” He nodded. “Cut us loose and we’ll do it.”

There were instant murmurs of dissent, mutterings of Captain, and Bucky, as men tried to make their case. Bucky wasn’t having any of it.

“There is no other option,” he said firmly. “If you don’t want to hang, this is what we’re going to do.” He took a deep breath. “We’re no strangers to being part of a crew.”

Sam let another moment pass, like he was waiting for a real issue or argument to arise. He wasn’t just going to start cutting everyone loose if it was immediately going to backfire onto them. The silence that followed was undoubtedly tense, but it was also telling. For as much as they might not have thought of it as a favorable thing, it was the only option that kept them alive to see the next sunrise.

When he was convinced enough, Sam reached and sliced through the ropes that were keeping Bucky bound in place. His wrists were unbound from each other and he was unbound from the mast all within the same expert swipe of Sam’s wrist. Bucky let out a short, quiet sigh of relief. There were still plenty of questions to answer but at least they managed to make it to the next step. One at a time would have to do for now.

The two of them stood facing each other in silence for a moment. They were almost completely eye-to-eye, each sizing the other up to a degree. Bucky knew that he didn’t have much footing to stand on, that he was in a lot of ways at the mercy of Sam and the rest of the crew, but old habits die hard and he wasn’t going to set himself to be walked over, either. There was a tightness in Sam’s jaw and for a moment he thought that it would be nothing short of a miracle if it ever went away if things continued to play out the way that they were.

Another long second ticked by and then Sam reached and pulled a knife from the back of his belt. He twirled it expertly in his hand before carefully holding the handle end out to Bucky for him to take. “Guess you can have this back.”

Something about the action, about Sam’s tone, brought the signature smirk back to Bucky’s face. Maybe one day they’d learn to get along, maybe they wouldn’t. Either way, Bucky had the feeling that there was something about Sam he’d grow to like even if the feeling was never mutual.

He deftly plucked the knife out of Sam’s hand. “Thank you.”

Sam didn’t grant him the courtesy of saying you’re welcome. Instead, he nodded towards the rest of Bucky’s crew, wondering when or if he would ever stop thinking of them that way. “I’ll leave you to this, then.”

It became apparent within a few seconds that Sam might have excused himself from the action of cutting the men loose, but he certainly wasn’t going to just turn his back and walk away. As Bucky set about the task of freeing everyone from their binds, he realized that it was, most likely, going to be a very long time before any of them were capable of doing anything without someone looking over their shoulders. Understandable, of course, but that would be an adjustment all its own for his men. He briefly wondered if they would be able to accept it.

As everyone was getting the blood back into their limbs and attempting to rub away the irritation left behind by the ropes that were around their wrists and ankles, they couldn’t help but to try and chatter quietly amongst themselves. The solution given to them posed far more questions than it did answers, and everyone involved was aware of that. Bucky could learn to live with it, as could his men, if the looming questions overhead meant that they wouldn’t be thrown to the gallows. He did wonder, though, how Steve convinced his own men to be alright with so little certainty.

“Now what?” one of the men finally spoke up, not a yell, but louder than the hushed tones they’d been using. “We just…pretend?”

Bucky shook his head. “There is no pretending. This is our crew, now.”

“Bucky—”

“Or we can let them tie you back up and you can be the port authority’s problem. That sound better to you?” He took a breath, trying not to let his own frustrations and confusion boil over. “Ste—Captain Rogers,” he corrected himself for the sake of the men in front of him, “is more than fair. We will figure this out. We have to, because the only alternative would be to take our chances trying to escape once we reached port. And those chances didn’t look good since we were all bound to the mast.”

“Why do you trust him so much?”

It was a fair question, one with an answer so loaded Bucky didn’t think that he could even try chipping away at it given the current state of things. Rather than attempt to get into all of that, he simply replied, “What other choice do we have?” Turning from his men back to Sam, he said, “I take it you’re the person we should be going to?”

Sam took all the time that he could to collect himself, staring down at the wooden planks of the deck beneath his feet before finally meeting the gazes of the men in front of him. “Seems that way, yeah.”

Bucky made a point to put his knife back in its rightful spot on his belt. Then, he held his hand out. “Don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m—”

“I know,” Sam cut him off but still returned the gesture, clasping Bucky’s hand tightly with his own.

He nodded understandingly, not bothered by a little bit of harshness. It was par for the course when they carried out the lives they were thrown into. All things being equal, the way that Sam was handling things was fairly civil.

“Wilson, right?”

Sam nodded. “That’s right.”

Bucky let his hand drop back to his side, noting how when Sam pulled his hand back it immediately went to the hilt of his sword. “Tell us what you need.”

He gestured with his chin towards the opposite end of the deck. “Captain wants to talk to you, specifically. I’ll get the rest of your crew…reacquainted.”

In some ways, Bucky knew that the hardest part was over. In terms of ensuring that his crew didn’t face immediate death, the hardest part was over. The long road ahead was going to be figuring out what to do now. And that didn’t even begin to touch upon him and Steve—that was a mess to uncoil all on its own.

He set off across the deck, not having much of another option. His fingers toyed with the handle of his knife. He tried to just keep his eyes fixed forward, tried not to pay too much mind to the eyes that he felt following his every step. Of all the things that he could think about in that moment, could focus on, he tried to center all of his thoughts around Steve. He was the closest thing to a constant in all of this as he could try and get. Plenty of things had changed over the years, but apparently one thing that still rang true was the fact that Steve was determined to take Bucky in like a stray. Another thing that hadn’t changed was the fact that Bucky was content to let him do so.

He could see the way that Steve’s hands were gripping tightly to the helm, unnecessarily so given the smoothness of the water they were currently experiencing. There was so much to talk about that it seemed futile to try and pick a starting point. In an attempt to steady is mounting nerves, Bucky idly toyed with the pendant at the base of one of his necklaces.

Steve’s eyes diverted over to Bucky a couple times, although they were mostly trained on the water ahead. The lack of sleep had stopped affecting him about halfway through the discussion with his men. He had a feeling now that he wouldn’t be able to rest until the day was done and the sun went back down. And even then, it would only be because his body shut down of its own volition.

“Your men are okay with this?” Steve finally said, still looking forward.

“Are yours?” Bucky retorted, sounding a little more amused than maybe he should have.

That got Steve to cut his gaze over towards him. “No. But…”

“They trust you,” he filled in the end of the sentence for him, “even if they don’t trust us.” He watched as Steve silently nodded in agreement. “My men won’t cost you that. I’ll make sure of it.”

An ounce of the tension dropped out of Steve’s shoulders. “Thank you.”

“What did you say to them?” Bucky asked. It wasn’t the most pressing issue, but it was something that he was going to be thinking about until he got an answer for it.

Steve shook his head. “What I had to. I,” he sucked in a deep breath, “I said what I had to, to make sure that they wouldn’t let you hang.”

To say thank you just didn’t seem like enough. The amount of trust that Steve was still placing in him after all the years apart, despite how the universe brought them back together, two small words just didn’t seem like enough to offset it.

Bucky realized that his silence must have lasted a couple beats too long because Steve spoke up again. “We have to talk.”

Bucky nodded. “I know. We need to figure out—”

The exhaustion washed over Steve’s face again, rough waves in the ocean of his expression. “Not that,” Steve stopped him, knowing that Bucky was thinking far too practically in that moment to be on the same page as him. “Making port will be simple. They know my father, and me. They trust me.”

“Everyone does,” Bucky said, a dash of humor in his voice.

“Lucky for your men,” Steve said, wearier than he meant to. He saw the way that Bucky’s expression immediately sobered and he almost apologized. He stopped himself before it slipped out, not wanting to take away from the very real gravity of the situation. “I mean we need to talk about the rest of it. All of it.”

Bucky knew that Steve was right, but he didn’t know how or where to start. “One thing at a time,” he finally said.

Steve nodded slowly. “One thing at a time.”

Their travels were swift, although it didn’t quite feel like it for most of the men aboard the ship. The thick tension seemed to make time go slower even with the wind and the sea on their side. It wasn’t until land was actually in sight that any of them started to discuss what they were going to say and, more importantly, what they were not going to say.

There was no doubt that the man Steve was speaking to was casting dubious looks over at the lot of them. Everyone was doing their best to remain as calm and casual as possible, but even with that there was still a bit of a noticeable divide among the men on the ship.

Still, the man was giving Steve the benefit of the doubt. Neither him nor his father had ever given any of them reason to suspect foul play. Steve had never been as thankful as he was in that moment. “Expanded the crew since our last trip.”

The man nodded thoughtfully as he took the silver being handed to him. He didn’t say anything as he counted the money out. There was a brief moment that had Steve wondering if he should have put a few extra pieces in there like Bucky had said. Steve’s argument against it had been that if there was extra money, it would be like an automatic admission of guilt. It was sound logic, but the unreadable look on the man’s face made Steve, for a moment, buy into Bucky’s mentality of anyone can be swayed for the right price.

After a few more agonizing seconds, the man slid the coins back into the pouch that Steve had handed them over in. He tightened the string and looked at Steve, his face finally showing an emotion as he smiled. “Father thought you’d need extra reinforcements without him?”

Steve wouldn’t have been able to describe his immense relief if someone had asked, and because of that he was fighting extremely hard to not let it show on his face. He chuckled and nodded, the actions a genuine outlet for the emotions inside of him. “He’s always been cautious that way.”

The man gestured towards the ship. “They don’t seem nearly as enthused about it as you are.”

The smile on Steve’s face was as charming as it had ever been. “No one is ever as enthused about anything as I am.”

The man laughed. “That’s fair.”

And just like that, they were safe. At least for the time being. It hadn’t ever been in Steve’s plans to linger, but with the change in circumstances, now he was more determined than ever to get in and out as quickly as possible. This was the part that he was familiar with, after all. He knew the merchants, he knew the metaphorical dances that needed to be done in order to get the money he wanted for the goods that they had. It would be a quick trip. He just had to hope that it would be quick enough for all the men with him to avoid suspicion.

It was impossible not to notice some of the looks that were getting thrown their way. Steve noticed it but managed to not let it show on his face—the more confidently he could carry himself, act like it was all simply business as usual, the less likely it was that anyone else would try and cause any problems with them. He did his best not to let it rattle him too much.

Bucky hadn’t been more than an arm’s length away since they made port. A few of his men had elected to stay back with the ship, not wanting any undue risk of someone trying to cause trouble with them or someone realizing who they were. While their crew might not have been as notorious as some, they’d still managed to leave some enemies scattered along the way. Bucky didn’t have the same lingering sense of dread about it as they did, so he followed right alongside Steve.

He wondered if Steve refusing to look over at him too long was on purpose in that he didn’t want to draw any attention, or if it was because of something much deeper and messier than that. Again, Bucky didn’t share the restraint. Every few strides, if he wasn’t looking to take stock of their surroundings, his eyes were on Steve. He was studying everything about him while he had the chance—the way he spoke, the way he carried himself. Bucky was trying hard to reconcile that with the mental imagery of Steve that he’d been carrying with him all these years. The thought crossed his mind frequently, even as the years continued to tick on, and he always wondered what Steve looked like and acted like now. But now that he was right there in front of him, whatever thoughts and conjurings had been in Bucky’s head all that time immediately evaporated out of existence. It was just this Steve now, just the one walking beside him. He wondered if Steve would soon be doing the same thing in return.

“You’re going to trip,” Steve said, eyes still fixed forward as they made their way farther and farther from the docks.

His statement caused Bucky to look down at the ground for a moment and then back up at him. “I’m not—”

“If you don’t stop staring at me,” he elaborated, finally turning to give a split-second glance to the man beside him, “you’re going to trip.”

The look was brief, but it was just long enough for Bucky to see the slight up-turn of Steve’s lips as he looked away again. There was comfort in that, the fact that Steve could still look at him and smile. There were so many things ahead of them that there was no certainty about, but things like that made Bucky feel that even if he didn’t have anything else when this all shook out, he might still have Steve.

“You should let me do the talking,” Bucky said, the palpable humor in his voice letting Steve know that he wasn’t seriously requesting it.

Still, Steve shook his head. “I don’t that’s the type of haggling we’re looking to do here.”

He could hear it in Steve’s voice, the way that he was trying not to sound amused by any of it. He nettled him a little more, hand coming to rest casually on the hilt of his sword. “Would bring it all to an end a lot quicker, though.”

Steve faced him, managing not to let his steps falter. “James.”

He said it like a parent preemptively scolding a child, just enough firmness to his tone so that the situation wouldn’t escalate to the point of needing to yell in earnest. Steve’s chastising tone hadn’t changed all that much over the years—his voice was just a little deeper now.

Bucky turned and looked at him, eyebrows raised, everything about his posture communicating just how unbothered he was. “Steve.” He took his hand off his sword, letting a smile crack across his face like a sign of surrender. “Only if they give you a hard time, then.”

Steve meant to huff out a sigh but it turned into a chuckle at the tail-end of it. “Thank you.”

True to his word, Bucky kept his mouth shut. He was even kind, or rather, level-headed enough to not say anything to Steve’s other men who were giving him more questioning looks than anyone else in the myriad of shops and streets they found themselves all walking through. He understood it, of course, but it didn’t mean that he particularly enjoyed it. It hadn’t even been a day yet but Bucky already found himself wondering just how long it was going to take for those looks to fade away.

“See?” Bucky said, his voice more triumphant than it had any right to be as they started making their way back towards the ship. “I’m a man of my word.”

The sky was getting darker by the second, and Steve was thankful for it as it hid the amused look on his face. He was just about to come back with something equally light-hearted when one of his men let out a scoff behind them. Steve felt his entire body tense at the sound, knowing exactly what it was about, and having a relatively good idea of how Bucky was going to respond to it.

He tried to keep his voice low and even. He reached and placed his hand on Bucky’s arm. “James, don’t—”

Bucky knew he should heed the warning but he was already turning around to face the man standing behind them. Bucky had heard someone else from the crew say his name but it hadn’t stuck. He supposed that didn’t really matter given the circumstances. “Something you’d like to say?” Bucky offered, the apparent nonchalance in his voice only fooling any passerby’s.

The man gave a tight shake of his head as he stepped in closer to Bucky, keeping his voice low which was an odd act of kindness given the circumstances. “The things I’d like to say would get you strung up in the square.”

Bucky’s jaw twitched, the indignant and hurt part of him wanted to lash out, make the situation worse. It was a skillset he’d spent a lifetime honing. “If that’s what you want, go ahead and say whatever it is that you’re thinking. See how it—”

Steve wedged himself between the two of them, trying to keep a close eye not just on the two of them, but on the people who were weaving their ways around them as well. “That’s enough.” He subtly pushed each of them farther apart. “We can resolve this back on the ship.”

There were a few seconds of tension, but they ended up passing without incident as the man turned and continued on his way to the ship, brushing by Bucky and Steve angrily. The other men followed swiftly behind him, leaving the two of them standing there, still practically chest to chest from when Steve had pushed the men apart using his own body.

“There will be nothing to resolve by the time we get back to the ship,” Steve tried to reassure. “The walk back will calm—”

“Until one of them gets angry again,” Bucky countered.

“And I’ll deal with it then,” Steve told him, voice steady.

His tone left no room for argument, and Bucky was impressed by that. Maybe he’d get around to voicing that later. For now, he managed to create an argument that Steve was desperately trying to extinguish before it even got started. “If you end up regretting this, you—”

“Don’t do that,” Steve cut him off, shaking his head as he took a small step back to create a little bit of space between them.

It wasn’t until Steve removed himself that Bucky realized how close he’d still been. “What?”

“You know what.”

And he did. Many things were different now but in spite of all that, there were certain looks and certain tones that meant the same thing now as they had years ago. Bucky nodded. “Okay.”

That seemed to be the end of it as the two of them also continued their trip back to the ship. There was clamor and scattered conversations happening around them, the occasional tune being sung off-key by someone in the pub. They let that take place of the conversation, a palette cleanser after everything that had just transpired.

“We’ll head back first thing in the morning,” Steve said when the ship was in sight.

Bucky nodded, knowing that even if he had an opinion on any of it, it wouldn’t have changed anything. “Alright.” He paused, allowing himself a chuckle. “Long as your crew doesn’t slit my throat while I’m sleeping.”

Steve knew that he shouldn’t laugh at that but he couldn’t quite stop himself. “They won’t.”

Bucky almost made a joke about the men tossing him overboard instead, but he thought better of it. Too soon. Decades later but still too soon. Instead he let the conversation fade once more as the two of them walked back up and onto the ship. The conversations taking place on the ship soon filled the space between them. They both looked around, impressed to see that a few of the men from each crew had started trying to mingle. It wasn’t everyone, and there was still tension in the air, but it was a start.

Sam popped up practically as soon as the two of them were fully on the deck. He looked eager, not quite as exhausted as he had looked at the start of the day. “How’d it go?”

Steve nodded approvingly. “Everything’s fine. We’ll be set to leave at sunrise.”

Confusion crossed Sam’s face for a moment. “Sunrise? I thought—”

“I’m in no condition to man the helm, Wilson,” Steve spoke firmly but still kindly. “It’s been a long eventful time since I last slept well, so I would rather do that and take off in the morning. If that’s alright.”

Sam nodded as Steve spoke. He wasn’t looking to disagree, he just hadn’t thought of it that way. He told Steve as much before saying, “There’s food in your quarters,” his eyes darted over to Bucky for a fraction of a second, “when you’re ready.”

“Thank you.”

When Sam had strode far enough away to be out of earshot, Bucky spoke up. “Good kid.”

Even though he hadn’t said it like a question, Steve still responded as though he had. “Yeah, he is.” He looked over at Bucky. “That one’s gonna take awhile.”

The exhaustion was starting to wash over him now that the most fast-paced of it was over, but he still manufactured a genuine chuckle. “I figured.”

Steve saw the tiredness on his face and for some reason it made him feel a little heavier as well. He rested his hand on Bucky’s shoulder for a moment. “Go. Rest. We can talk tomorrow.”

Bucky didn’t necessarily want to pull himself away, but he knew that he had to. With nothing more than a nod, he slipped away and went off to get back with the rest of his crew. Steve watched him for a few moments, unable to look away until Bucky was sitting and apparently comfortable with some of his men. Only then did he finally turn to head towards his own quarters.

Steve didn’t remember falling asleep. He remembered going back to his quarters, he remembered scarfing down the food that Sam had left there for him. He even vaguely remembered removing his boots as he sat on the edge of his bed. He did not, however, remember succumbing to his exhaustion in such a way that he was sprawled completely out across his bed, one arm dangling off the edge of it, body contorted in ways that certainly wouldn’t be comfortable to anyone who was at all conscious.

Pulling himself into a somewhat normal and upright position, like a marionette being pulled up by its strings, Steve swung his legs so that they were off the edge of the bed, feet planted firmly on the floor. He propped his elbows on his knees so that he could drop his head into his hands for a moment, rubbing the sleep from the corners of his eyes. He could see that it was pitch black out, that he hadn’t slept clean through until morning. But he felt leagues better than he had before he fell asleep so he would take the win regardless.

After sitting still for a few moments, he put his boots back on and made his way for the door, leading himself back out to the deck. Looking seaward, it was dark save for the stars and what little light carried far enough from the docks and town behind. Steve chose to keep his eyes trained that way, enjoying the peace of it all. The chaos of the shore had quieted, almost nonexistent now and nearly impossible to hear over the waves lapping against the docks and the ships.

The wood of the deck creaked beneath his feet as he walked. His eyes adjusted quickly to the lack of light with each step that he took, and it was only when that happened that he saw that he wasn’t alone out on the deck. A silhouette that was old and new to him at the same time lingered at the far side, leaning against the rail, staring out at the seemingly endless sea. Steve felt the nerves creeping up his spine and tried to ignore them as he continued to walk over.

He leaned against the railing beside Bucky, not looking at him as he asked, “Couldn’t sleep?”

Bucky shook his head. “Not for very long.”

That was all either of them said. Bucky looked out at the ocean waves for a little while longer before he let his gaze drop to the wooden railing that they were each leaning on. His stomach tightened, old memories rearing their ugly heads—a past life that he didn’t feel he had any right to anymore.

Steve watched the way that Bucky’s hands moved tentatively along the wood. He had a fairly good idea of what Bucky was thinking about, because he was thinking about the same exact thing. There was so much that Steve had planned to say, spent years thinking it all through, but now that they were standing there next to each other the words died before they even made it up the column of his throat. None of them would change what happened.

With each movement of Bucky’s hand and arm, the sleeve of his shirt pulled up higher and higher. Bucky didn’t seem to notice, or if he noticed he didn’t seem to care, but Steve couldn’t help but to look at the scarring that ran up his left arm.

“What happened?” the question tumbled from his lips before he could stop it.

Bucky looked at him, confused at the vagueness of his question until he saw where Steve was looking. He gave a small shake of his head. “That night…” he trailed off, not needing to spell it all out.

The sad expression that took over Steve’s face in that moment was enough to break just about anyone’s heart. He knew that he should have something elegant or meaningful to say, but all that came out was a quiet, sad, “Oh.” If he was simply being nosey, he would’ve followed it up with more specific questions, but once he heard that it was all the answer he felt he needed.

Bucky stared down at his arm. The scars were so much a part of him now that he hardly noticed them anymore. Some days his arm still ached, pains that he was almost certain were all in his head but he couldn’t prove it. So many horrid things packed into one night so long ago.

“The waves weren’t the only thing that I had to worry about,” he finally said.

Steve’s heart was getting heavier by the second. “I’m sorr—”

“Don’t,” Bucky cut him off. He pried his eyes up off his arm and looked at Steve. “What could you have done? Either of us?”

Bucky could see it on Steve’s face that he was fighting the urge to argue. He never argued just for the sake of it, something that Bucky found himself doing more than once or twice over the years, but Steve still sometimes couldn’t help but land himself in a debate. He always meant well by it. Any argument with him usually, as much as Bucky could remember, ensued because Steve just couldn’t stop himself from sticking up for someone, for something. A good trait to have most times, but not all. Bucky marveled at that about him now just as much as he had back then, maybe even a little more-so. It was easier to appreciate things with more years and experience.

Steve sighed, shoulders deflating as he nodded. “I know.”

Something about those two small words made it seem like a world of tension had been taken off their shoulders. Both of them had spent so long carrying around so much hurt, so much guilt. They’d been living with countless question marks hovering just above their heads. The burden of things far beyond one’s own control was a heavy one to carry, and they’d been doing it for years. But the admission that there was nothing they could have done then? Or in the interim since? There was comfort in that. It didn’t absolve them of all the grief, but it was a start. And that was more than they ever thought they were going to get.

Bucky’s eyes stayed fixed on the water in front of them then. He watched the waves as they gently came lapping at the sides of their ship and the others that had anchored around them. It was so calm, so unlike the night they were both thinking about in that moment.

Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky could see Steve shifting nervously. There was something more that he wanted to say. Bucky briefly wondered if there had ever been a time when Steve didn’t have something more to say. He didn’t try to rush it out of him, though. He’d get to it when he was ready.

All of the shifting and fussing with his hands landed Steve closer to Bucky than he already had been. They were shoulder to shoulder now. The outside of Steve’s arm was pressed flush against Bucky’s, from his bicep all the way down to their wrists. Bucky waited for Steve to realize it, to pull away and put the distance between them again, but it never happened.

“I don’t care what happens now,” Steve finally said.

Bucky’s face scrunched in confusion for a moment. “What?”

Steve wanted to look him in the eyes but for the moment he couldn’t manage it. He settled for staring intently at Bucky’s hand instead as it rested dangerously close to his own. “I know it matters, but I just,” he shook his head, “I don’t care what happens next.”

Bucky didn’t know what to make of the relief in Steve’s voice. “Steve…”

He did his best to fill in the gaps between what he was saying and what he actually meant. “We’ll figure it out. Whatever happens next isn’t going to matter,” Steve felt his courage surging with each word he spoke, finding it in himself to finally take Bucky’s hand in his as he continued, “because we’re going to handle it. No matter what.”

He matched Steve’s grip, each of them holding the hand of the other like they were the only thing keeping them from slipping away again. In a way they were. He felt the warmth, the softness of the skin of Steve’s forearm against his own scars and for the first time in a long time he didn’t feel the want to pull away from the touch. It was Steve, after all.

Bucky’s eyes were glued to their entwined hands, watching the way Steve’s thumb traced back and forth over his. The only thing that got him to look up was the sound of Steve’s voice as he spoke up again.

“Remember what we always used to say?”

The ends of his lips began to curl upwards, warmth in the small gesture. He remembered. Of course, he remembered. “Yeah.”

Steve’s sigh of relief was quiet, but not quite silent as he allowed himself to lean a little more against Bucky’s side. There was something familiar about the gesture. Suddenly they were teenagers staying up past curfew again—staying out a little too late, drinking a little too much, sitting a little too close. But it didn’t feel like a secret anymore.

“I still mean it,” Steve said with a small nod.

Bucky gave his hand a light squeeze. “Yeah.” His breathing hitched for a moment as Steve’s head dropped onto his shoulder. “Me too.” He let a beat of silence pass, allowed himself to soak up the closeness. “It’s not gonna be easy.”

Steve chuckled softly, not lifting his head from Bucky’s shoulder. “It never was.”

“No?” Bucky joked.

Steve laughed a little harder at that, still quiet as his shoulders shook with the laughter, the recognition that he had the opportunity for this when he thought he never would again. “No.”

“Least that didn’t change.”

Steve felt the slight pressure of Bucky leaning his head down against his own, felt the way his heartrate spiked at the realization of it. New and familiar all at once. Steve tried to breathe into it, allow himself to enjoy it. A tether in the midst of so much upcoming uncertainty.

He ran his thumb across Bucky’s knuckles. “A lot of things didn’t change.”

[vaynglories]

9 fandom peeps to get to know better (tagged by @thebansacredbanned, tyty! 💜)

3 ships you like: ot3 edition 'cause i can - lin chen/mei changsu/xiao jingyan (nirvana in fire); yoo joonghyuk/kim dokja/han sooyoung (omniscient reader's viewpoint); alucard/trevor belmont/sypha belnades (netflix castlevania).

first ship ever: pretty sure sam/frodo from lotr was the first ship i had Big Feelings about. (bestie said "that makes SO much sense about you" when i mentioned this. okay so i like friends-to-lovers and loyalty dynamics! so i'm predictable! fight me!)

last song you heard: 明明 - liu yuning

favorite childhood book: i read the hobbit and lotr back-to-back at age 6 and they were a Formative Influence.

currently reading: alas my brain is full of bees and cannot focus on a damn THING and yet my to-be-read pile keeps growing. did recently get my hands on a copy of notes of a crocodile by qiu miaojin though so i'm very excited to read that one whenever i do get around to it.

currently watching: working my way through the disguiser at the approximate speed of a glacier.

currently consuming: copious amounts of ice water are all that's been getting me through this summer is2g. stay hydrated folks 🥤🐃

currently craving: i haven't made curry in so long and i want it so bad... please can the planet orbit the sun a little faster so i can have cold weather again 🙏

tagging! @heywizards @toybeluga @strandedchesspiece @psychic-waffles @sunriseverse uhhh (that's not 9 oops) anyone else who likes to do these things please consider yourself tagged!

[anonil88]

Reposting this because, I was right.

This was written the summer before season 2 aired.

Gonna talk about my lowering expectations and my wariness or worries for Season 2 of Euphoria.

These are just my personal opinions and speculations. This is long oops, buckle in.

This season is about to be so dark and a bit more gritty, less pretty effects but still great visuals and edits. I look forward to that I just hope it doesn't turn off too many fans. I saw a lot of people did not enjoy the specials for their lack of glitter and their blunt honesty. The dialogue is needed especially because not only Rules but all of these teens have terrible communication skills. The specials were honestly amazing and a great step into this more realistic aspects of a very complicated love story. I hope we can continue this line of realism and more perspectives or at least Rue talking about other characters perspectives. I would actually love to see Leslie, her mom, and things from her side of the story.

We all know it will be dark but my fear is that its going to be a trauma dump with poor writing, and no room for breathe. I know Sam has about like 5 different projects going on so I hope he took or takes his time with this script. But, after Malcom and Marie I'm a bit worried because he is going to have to go into uncharted new territory. Especially with these newer characters, I know HBO/A24 euphoria casting is looking for a stripper or two which has me a bit shook. I wonder how far they are going to push this show in the limits of wild but realistic teenage years. Personally even at 25 have never been to a strip club but I do know people who started stripping/dancing at 18. Either during our senior year of highschool or their freshman year of college. Sam being a cis white man is going to have to do his research and talk to people in order to not write a character like that in a damaging light. Which I hope doesn't happen because I'm pro adult dancer with transparency about that industry and others like it. Someone does need to spell out realistic consequences of joining in those industries at a young adult age, but it needs to be done correctly. I don't know if Sam will be the right person for that but only time will tell.

I have the same worries with the introduction of more poc cast and specifically black characters. Again time will tell and I cannot judge something entirely that I have not read or seen.

In general with Sam's writing i hope that any input that the cast has with their characters and the storylines is taken into consideration. I know this was done with the bridge episodes and season 1 but, sometimes studios can loom over talent when something is so successful. With all the awards, acclaim, and criticism I hope that peoples voices are still being heard and listened to. It would be a disservice to HBO to force expectations that could hurt the shows quality. *glares in last season of game of thrones*

While I'd love for this season to focus on anyone other than Jason Bateman Jr. the show is a drama and eventually Nathan will have to surface at some point. Rmfe.

I think there definitely need to be something where the on hand psychology liaison works out a plan for dismantling the Nate is just a fixer upper thing going on. I'm usually fine and let people ship what they ship but seeing so many abuse apologist sends off alarms in my mind. I realize it has partially to do with Jacob being attractive, which is also a great point the show is making pretty people can be bad too. But, it makes sense why this show is not geared for kids/young teens because the point just flew over theirs and even a lot of adults heads. I can only think that he will not be written as a complete villain because truth be told he is not entirely evil. He is a scared little boy in a grown man's body who needs therapy and real weighted consequences. He might not get either of those things and we just see him go off into the world, that is scary but real.

I'm aware that all of these characters could and likely will make turns for the worst. All teenagers and adults make mistakes, sometimes damaging ones. But, since some of these characters are trying to get into college I think that needs to be taken into account with their stories. Unless Nate doesn't plan on going to college it is unrealistic for him to be acting a whole fool the entire season. So I hope we don't get a over the top Joker character because senior year you kind of don't have time to fuck your senior year up unless you actively try to. At least in my experience. Also for the love of Jesus I don't want him and Jules to be anything. Even if he has feelings I need it to be plainly written out that its twisted and one sided because he is emotionally manipulating both her and Maddy.

Our time with certain characters is either running out this upcoming season or will fade. I know McKay might not come back or will be a background character. I actually think that is smart so the story isn't bogged down with irrelevant characters but, i hope the storyline and Rue or Nate's story doesn't suffer because of this. With the introduction of new characters the focus could go anywhere with this new season.

Maddy has the tape and her limbo of a breakup with Nate to worry about. If she uses it against Jules in favor of Nate, imma have to hope karma bites her in the ass.

Kat has her stalker and I'm terrified where they will go with her storylinr. I hope the writer does show the more negative aspects of camming, as well as, the effects it can/would have on a minor doing that. Because in the moment it is fun....and then you find yourself conscious of the decision you've made and with whom. The very serious legal ramifications that exist as well should you get caught. But, i really don't want them to girlboss Kat for being an underage person making money that way without any scope of what she's getting into. That would be so so harmful. But, I don't want her story to become one giant p.s.a for the dangers of XYZ work.

I believe in a Jules Vaughn supremacy and I want to protect her from that evil boy and his father. Am so so looking forward to new Jules' makeup and fashion looks that reflect the characters rejection of doing things for male validation . I do love her even though her and Rue's communication issues drive me up a wall. She should have just been like Rue, I like you a lot so can we sit down and talk about this but she didn't and now they are both out there crying into a pillow asking why doesn't she like me. I do get that they are 16/17 and I too at 17 most definitely wasn't equipped to communicate that well either. Hunter is doing a phenomenal job and I see a long career in her future.

Oh Rue, I think he is handling Rue's story well, but as always they can handle certain things differently. I.E even though I didn't see it as romantization I know some people did see the scene with her yelling at Fez and her OD as being too cheery. Rue in the special episode makes you angry and I actually would love more of that. I want to be upset at this character that I love and relate to so much, because a lot of her choices are frustating. Even the ones she makes that aren't revolving around her addiction which is honestly the only thing her life really revolves around. I wonder what else Rue enjoys or will find joy in besides drugs, Jules, and hanging out with her mom. She desperately needs to find a better outlet and hoping we get to join her on the journey to finding that..

Since we see everyone's perspective from her eyes it will be nice to see how her lack of sobriety affects those around her. Especially the baddest most down friends someone could have, Lexi and Fezco.

Lexi and Fez's episodes are gonna be so good, but God i know they are going to be vastly different because of the lives they lead. Fez' will get very sad or upsetting and Lexi' is going to bleed out of Cassie and Rue's storylines. These two are the closest to Rue who dealt with her addiction before rehab and before we met Rue. If Rue is this bad when she has no reason to keep living, imagine how she was directly after her dad passed away. Which because she is unreliable she never talks about and we only see glimpses of when she isn't narrating. So it will be really interesting to get a deep dive for both of these characters.

Fezco is the only man I really care about in this show. Um, Ethan is okay but I don't think he needs an episode. I'd rather get an episode on Fez and his little brother/cousin.

I would also like no love more of detective Lexi because that was too fun. Also Lexi is every person who has a bestfriend who gets into a relationship and they gush about that person in front of you for a little too long.

I'm kind of worried for Cassie honestly because she has come out of the wanting to date to feel loved phase, but will she focus on herself? Will she focus on school or skating? Will we even get to see more of her character or will she fade into the background a bit more and her story goes stale? I don't know i just hope that if there are any scenes like last season that its done in a "tasteful" way. She shouldn't be the show or productions golden ticket or free pass to be used as an object or trophy. McKay already did that and she deserves better. After my many rewatches of season 1 I'm still a bit unsettled by some of those scenes with her. I get she's supposed to be looked at from that lens of owning her sexuality while dealing with the male gaze, but at times its like jeez yall are really had to go there. Maybe its because i don't or try not to look at women with misogyny as a backlight, BOO DANIEL BOOO. The carousel scene is probably one of the most uncomfortable 5 minutes I've ever experienced watching TV. I just hope that behind the scenes and in table reading discussions are being had with Sydney' and any other actors to respect their comfort levels.

It is funny that out of the HBO shows with nudity that this is the one with the least femme presenting nakedness. I'm not weirded out by nudity but even for me seeing all them elephant trunks had me like O.O. It is nice to see that all bodies are being normalized and specifically that its not just "lets sexualize femme bodies" for views. Instead it subverts the norm while also reinforcing that bodies can be shown without any other intent than that bodies exist in many forms. A couple newer HBO and HBO max original shows are also following in Euphoria's lead with this, but there are still some HBO shows that I'm like so "you can show topless women back to back but the men are covered up and "modest". "

Ugh I hope the Game of Thrones spinoff has learned from its past, but that's me trying to be nice instead of saying I'm not interested after that finale season.

After this season we likely only have one more season, 3 Season model has taken over and honestly it makes sense to only go to 4 seasons max with this show. S1 and 2 for junior year, S3/maybe 4 for senior year. A season for each semester. Also if im remembering correctly Sam said he got clean after highschool or around that senior year to college years. And since Rue in a lot of ways is based off of him that timing makes sense. So I hope for a season 2 that is more reflective of the bridge episodes that gets us to season 3. And, I hope for this upcoming season even with the criticism that will come that its handled and executed beautifully. Glitter, messiness, and realistic sadness in all.

That's all I've got to say for now.

[storm-and-starlight]

well. okay. I went and did it. I watched Supernatural season 15 episode 18: Despair.

I now present my thoughts as I had them during the episode, only mildly edited:

Apparently Chuck is already dead?

Also WOW the dialogue is fucking terrible

Okay so Billie betrayed them and I very much dislike that take on her

Also they decided to do on-screen teleportation after FIFTEEN YEARS of keeping it off screen and just like. Wow that's bad

like the off-screen teleporting just added Something to the show that worked really well? and removing it removes one more cool little aesthetic choice and makes everything fall just so much flatter

Okay so Chuck isn't dead he's just disappeared after the winchesters failed to kill him

Charlie! I didn't know she was in this episode

Well, apocalypse!Charlie, but still

I'm not so sure I like the direction they took cas in this season, like he's very very humanized and very casual and while it does make sense for his character I'm still not that much of a fan

Awww Eileen died

Awww brother hug

Heyyyyy, Donna!

Oh please tell me Donna survives.

Once again the dialogue is just really really bad

Wow Bobby looks young

Also he's just not acting like Bobby whatsoever

was Jim Beaver even in this episode?

Okay yeah this is just a bad fuckin episode

All the people from other worlds just got poofed out of existence and it was INCREDIBLY badly written and directed and acted

It's all stuff that's supposed to be "cool" and dramatic and intense but none of it is actually landing

Oh oop I think I'm at The Scene

Nope wait nvm it's Billie trying to kill Dean for coming back from the dead and being a rule breaker and like. Wow everyone really has forgotten that Sam was the original protagonist, huh

Good God the dialogue is HORRIBLE

"don't you think it's finally time for the sweet release" pause "of death?"

like kudos to Billie's actress for at least trying to make that one sound natural but like. damn.

Not sure whether or not the glowy wards thing is new but I'm not hugely a fan, and there's a LOT of it this episode in response to a lot of things and hrmmmmmmmmmm no not liking it

Oh oh here we gooooooo

I did not know Dean had a breakdown beforehand

Oh my god Cas gets himself schlorped deliberately to save dean's life by summoning the empty to get rid of death?

Also wow THAT'S a fucking sentence

Oh my god?

Okay Cas is actually crying wow

This is a really long love confession when Death is actively trying to break down the door to the room they're hiding from her in because she wants to kill Deean

Cas: Extremely long heartfelt speech about how wonderful Dean is Dean: why does this sound like a goodbye? Cas: Because it is. I love you. Dean: don't do this, Cas

OH MY GOD HE REALLY DOES HAVE NO EMOTION ON HIS FACE AT ALL

NONE

NADA

ZILCH

ngl I laughed my fucking head off when Dean gave the line because THE MEMES WERE NOT WRONG THAT MAN DOES NOT GIVE A SINGLE FLYING FUCK ABOUT CAS DUMPING HIS HEART ON THE FLOOR HERE

Also wow that's a hell of a closeup on Misha Collins there

They had the FUCKING NERVE to play Dean's Family Devotion Theme after he watches Cas confess his love to him with a BLANK FUCKING FACE oh my god

And now we get Dean having a surprisingly sedate breakdown

And we don't even get the quiet credits we get the rock credits

Goddamn. Okay. That was awful.

IN CONCLUSION: the... everything ... surrounding the Destiel confession scene aside, this is remarkably bad. The dialogue is terrible, the directing is terrible, the acting is sub-par even from people who are usually pretty damn good (Felicia Day as Charlie very very much feels like she's phoning it in), did I mention the dialogue is terrible? Because it's so bad, and the actual love confession... well, it certainly lives up to everything I've heard about it (and no, I didn't actually see it when I came out because I wasn't interested in this level of psychic damage then). Anyways. Yeah. Bad.

[sorry-i-spaced]

I'll ask!!! Question 19 please 🥺

Thank you!

Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

My answer is very long, so it's going under a cut!

So I started writing when I was 7yrs old! I decided to write this story about a girl who took everything literally (it was my version of Amelia Bedelia) and I wrote it on printer paper and it had a lot of spelling errors. I named the girl Sam and showed my mom. My mom then decided to fix my spelling and then proceeded to tell me to use lined paper instead. I got a journal from her and I wrote my next installment of Sam stories. I did this until I was about 9. At 9 I started getting into the whole world of having babies and adoption and all that fun stuff. So I created a story called Bob The Clean Freak! Bob had several children varying ages and biological blood. Bob's claim to fame in why I wrote so much about him and thought it was the funniest thing in the world was he was friends with the Queen of England and she would pay him to clean her zillion bathrooms. Bob The Clean Freak lasted til I was about 11. I do remember making an installment where he went to a funeral for Sam (the Amelia Bedelia knockoff). I kind of stopped writing then. I would mainly tell stories aloud but wouldn't write them down. Then when I was 12 I was hit with the acting bug! But unlike now where I can act on it and do background acting, my parents wouldn't budge (they didn't want me to experience rejection from a young age). So to combat this, I learned about screenwriting and started making my own scripts! I wrote this one called Dr. Knockout where he kidnapped these girls and it was based off of an episode of the show Supah Ninjas that was on Nickeloden at the time! I began mainly writing in script format if I did any writing at all. Jumping forward when I was 14 I wrote my first ever fanfic before really knowing what fanfiction was. It was a Lab Rats fanfic where I was booked to be on the show and I fell in love with one of the actors (it was weird af). Skipping ahead again when I was 16 I challenged myself to write a Criminal Minds script (I was really into that fandom at the time) and it ended up being like 60 pages and I edited it and everything and sent it off to the Executive Producer of the show (no shit, I found her contact info on the CBS website while I was in Computer Science class in school). I think it was around this time as well that I had friends requesting me to write them stuff irl - which I would complete for them.

I then went off the college and couldn't really write much. But I took a creative writing class and shared every insane made up game I played with my friends in the backyard growing up. I also learned of new ways to write stories (starting from the end of your story and jumping into the beginning, playing around with flashbacks, 5+1 writing style)

In my first year of being a senior (I did it twice...oops) I started writing fanfiction again and it was great and I love writing and sharing it!

I think overall since I was a small child I've written some form of fanfiction even if I didn't realize it!

[gwifirusu]

they all say be the change you want to see so if no one’s gonna do it i’m just gonna, uh, 

[scbastlans]

sebastian montague + wardrobe ( 01/?? )

i like my money right where I can see it…hanging in my closet.

[go-learn-esperanto]

Mcytblr favourite (cursed) posts

This is supposed to be an archive for myself for my favourite cursed posts I've been collecting over the times. I might add to this in the future.

(click here to check if it has been updated)

If some posts that are really funny are missing it's because I probably haven't seen them (Or can't find them).

Some of these might be a little nsfw

Mumbo is Grian's cat

Hey Wilbur (Absolute classic. This post is from 2019. 2019.)

Schlattbur shipper

Is C!Jschlatt heterophobic?

C!Wilbur is a whore (mpreg)

Dream SMP family tree

Grian's top surgery

C!Tubbo's execution (mpreg) (a personal favourite of mine)

The reason why Bee duo got Michael (mpreg)

Tubbo's execution was his top surgery (mpreg)

C!Wilbur swallowed Sally's eggs (mpreg)

Sootcest (updated again)

Sootcest flag

Thicc Grian Tuesday

[Closed RP]

The Tapeworm Post

The Tapeworm Post (SBI Edition)

The Tapeworm Post (Hermitcraft Edition)

The Tapeworm Post (Empires SMP Edition)

The Tapeworm Post (except there's no tapeworms and Y/N is pregnant)

Dream impregnated Lil Nas X (mpreg)

Call Grian Irrelevant— (with probably the funniest reblog from the op after I made my addition to it):

You are Mark, you are my husband, and I will not support these- these childish delusions!

Gay High School (Ⅰ. Ⅱ. Ⅲ. Ⅳ)

Can We Pretend the Airplanes in the Night Sky Are Like Shooting Stars?

How Wilbur Got His Name (mpreg)

A collection of Penis SMP posts I've made before

THE IMAGE WAS AN ACCIDENT (Penis SMP)

C!Wilbur sand popsicles (I know there are others on the list that can kinda be considered nsfw but please believe me when I say this one is on another level)

MILF Grian Monday

Dream SMP Furbies

Oops! All DILFs!

Redza

Dad Kisser Doc Donnerstag

Dad Kisser Doc Donnerstag (updated and explained)

Treebark Puppies (mpreg)

My Werewolf Boyfriend

Fuschia Fishfuckers (by popular demand)

Scott is a Slut masterpost (with explanation and links to the important posts)

The Whoreslut Survey

The Hermitcraft "Kickability" study

The Hermitcraft Microwavability Study

The Official Hermitblr Gay Sex Survey

Dream SMP Tumblr Sexyman

3rd Life/Last Life Tumblr Sexyman

How did the fish breathe and wilbur also breathe? (Version 1｜Version 2)

yeah these two definitely fucked

Mumbo is on his period

Stellar Knockers, My Guy! (X Tiddy Tuesday)

Look on My Works, Ye Mighty, and Despair!

Trafficblr's version of that quackbur drawing you know which one

Techno Potato Blade

So Let Me Be and I'll Set You Free: (Dream SMP Las Nevadas / Dream SMP Pogtopia / Grian's 100h hardcore server / 3rd life smp / Smajor1995 / Jschlatt / Dream SMP Sapnap & Dream / Dream SMP SBI + Bee Duo and Mumza / Dream SMP Ponk, Sam and Foolish / Empires SMP Wither Rose Alliance / Dream SMP Wilbur / 100hrs hardcore version 2 / Dream SMP Hitting on 16)

C!Wilbur is the son of... (mpreg) (yes again)

Technodike anon

*puts on beanie*

PS5

Salmonella (Ⅰ, Ⅱ)

The Bible Fandom

Scar is a Domesticated Villain

Hermit E-boys

The Hermits with Most Sex Appeal

Rabiesgender and salmonellasexual

DNF Cakes

Would You Fuck a Clone of Yourself?

Dream Has a Gun

Yeah man I love my favorite content creator Tommyinnit

What hating Dream does to a person

The Rift

Eggs

Hermiitopia

These are my three anime partners. Yes they watch anime

Xisumagayte (+ fanart)

Philza was hungry

DNFeid Fundywastaken?

Titulus Venereus

Snow Globe

Grian's Dick Smasher

Crime Worms

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Looking for a Place to Happen

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity.

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

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: We’re starting Sam’s installment but this weekend I’ll probably only be catching up on my headcanons and drabbles because I’ve been a lazy bitch and I’m sorry to those who have been waiting.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 1: I've got a job, I explore

💀💀💀

The sleepy town of Birch was awake. 

In those last weeks, the arrival of outsiders had roused the attention of many once passive residents of the timeless territory. Those brick buildings unchanged by the tick of the clock inlaid into the old tower above the library that chimed every hour on the hour. They still stood with only chips in the mortar but the air tasted different. The frost was more bitter and the sky more grim. An omen of something no one could predict.

It was the perfect setting for a screenplay. The isolated town with its unsavoury secrets and the visitors who threatened to bring them to the surface. It was inspiring to you, to imagine what was hidden behind the stern wrinkled faces of the town elders and under the jackets of those men who wore the cut of the local club. The bikers ruled the town covertly but everyone knew that Bucky Barnes’ palm was lined with the map of Birch.

As a bystander, an unnoticed observer, just another ant in the hill, you watched from the side and amused yourself with the drama of others. It was like a soap opera or another HBO hype machine. Those things you aspired to when you could be free of this ho-hum town.

The snows added to the natural gloom of the place. The deep heaps smothered the noise and harkened back to those days of colonial settlement. Forgotten, desolate, fearful. 

You ventured down in your heavy boots that stretched to your knees and pushed your chin down into your scarf. As a child, you ran and jumped in those piles, now you were out of breath just trying to walk past them.

You stopped in the bakery that doubled as the only café, a place where the owner, Babs, tried to to intimidate the last caffeinated trends. She was always a few seasons behind but you didn’t mind so much. 

You ordered the salted caramel mocha and waited patiently as the quiet woman fought with the steaming machines. She was older than you but you’d work with her for one summer during high school, only five years ago. She had the eyes of a child still, but there was something worn in her. As if she’d been exposed to far too much in her three or so decades in that place. She was a harbinger of what you didn’t want to become.

You thanked her for your drink and set out once more into the billowing winds. Birch winters were never kind but this one was crueler than most. Your teeth chattered as you blew the steam away from the lid and hugged it with your mittened hands.

You stopped short as you heard the familiar ding of the diner door across the street. You recognised the mechanic who kept to herself and once growled at you in the grocery store. She stormed across the street, followed closely and quickly by a black-haired man you’d only seen once before. He was one of those outsiders who came to deal with the club men.

You sped up as you sensed chaos brewing and pulled out your phone as you balanced your paper cup in your other hand. You flicked your camera on just as you got to the front of the shop and the man grabbed the mechanic. You let out an ‘oop’ as she turned on him and you aimed the lens at the couple as they fell into the snow, the man’s shoes giving little traction to his steps. 

You moved closer, stunned by the scene, and kept your cell phone rolling as you found a better angle around the snowy walks. As she choked him on the ground he elbowed her and she coughed as she rolled away. She snarled as he clamoured to his feet, slipping and sliding as he marched away.

You killed the recording and watched the man cross the street again, nearly wiping out as he did and when you looked back to the mechanic, she was gone behind the clattering door. You chuckled to yourself and tucked away your cell. It was prime footage for TikTok; with a bit of editing, it would be comedy gold.

💀

You stomped up the steps of your grandmother’s house, this time through the front door as you heard her chair rocking in the front room. You usually took the stairs in the back as you paid her to live on the upper floor of the duplex. You checked in with her daily, she didn’t get out much more than the occasional trip to the grocery store when you couldn’t or you dragged her out to join you for a tea at Babs’.

“You’re late,” she grumbled as you set your cup down and unzipped your coat.

“For what?” you scoffed.

“It’s after noon and you don’t even come down to say hello? A ‘good morning, nan’,” she harrumphed.

You chuckled and hung your coat before shoving your boots over on the mat. You grabbed your mocha and leaned on the doorway as you watched her crocheting in her chair, reruns of some court show playing from the boxy television.

“I was working,” you said, “sent in some stuff for review. Hopefully not much work to be done.”

“I don’t know how you make money on that interweb,” she bemoaned, “I don’t trust it.”

“Maybe you’d trust it more if you used the Netflix subscription I got you,” you crossed your arms, “then you wouldn’t have to watch trash daytime TV.”

She shrugged and muttered under her breath. She could be crotchety but you liked her sense of humour. Your aunts and uncles never came around because they just took it as spite. You were the only one who knew how to handle the jaded old lady.

“Maybe you coulda looked out the window,” you snickered, “quite a show going on in town.”

“Hmm, what’s that?” she stilled her needles and reached for her tea stained cup.

“Just a fight. You wouldn’t believe it, that lady mechanic beat the shit--”

“Language,” she huffed.

“Anyway, she had this guy in a chokehold. It was awesome.”

“What guy?” she squinted at you over her glasses.

“I dunno. Some out of towner. Remember I told you about that burly dude hanging around the library?”

“There’s more?” she sucked on her teeth, “those bikers have never been good news and now they’re bringing in more.”

“Yeah, well, what’re you gonna do?” you sniffed as you took out your phone and rewatched the scuffle with the volume down. You shook your head and opened up your TikTok. 

“I don’t understand why you’re always on your dang phone,” your grandmother pestered.

“I’m not always on my phone,” you smiled at her smugly, “there are those time when I’m listening to you prattle on or you know, making you tea, oh, and cooking you dinner. What was it I did last week? Oh that’s right, I got Pippin out of the crawlspace.”

“I’m too old to be chasin’ that cat all around,” she huffed, “where is he anyway?”

“He’s your cat, I don’t know? Last time I saw him, I sent him back out the window for shredding my charger.”

“He knows you need to give it a rest,” she laughed to herself, “got your nose to that screen too much.”

“And what do you do, old lady? Crocheting doilies to put where exactly?”

She gave you that dry smile, the one that said watch it but carried a hint of humour still. You hit post and put your phone away as you waved off her irritation.

“Well, you know what, I sit all day at my computer, doing who knows what and you know what it got me?” you taunted, “a large mocha!” you sipped as you sat on the sofa and grabbed the remote, “and it’s paying my rent and putting bullet points on my resume.”

“Mhmm,” she scowled, “just remember, real life ain’t online. Those videos you’re always laughing at like hyena, that’s not reality. You forget it and it’ll come back and bit you. ‘Specially with those bikers.”

“Oh, nan, you know too well, don’t you? Didn’t you have a fling with one back in your hippie phase?”

“Two, actually,” she raised her brows, “I was young and stupid. Not like you, but still.”

“I love you too,” you chirped and sipped from your cup, flicking the station to Jerry Springer, “that’s more like it.”

💀

Your usual TikToks were sarcastic and dull complaints about your small town life. The response was less than pleasing but it gave you an outlet to vent. You liked to goof around and document the very specific type of weirdos that resided in Birch. But the video of the fight in the snow blew up your phone and made it difficult to ignore the buzzing as you went back up to your room to eke out the last of your captions for the ad agency.

When at last you could call your day hard-earned, you logged off and sent in your hours to the agency. Social media promotion was easy enough but the working gigs for a thousand different companies was tedious. You hoped you could build your portfolio enough to manage a single corporate page as you continued to chip away at your creative outlets.

You picked up your phone as you waited for Netflix to load on your tiny smart tv and flopped onto your bed, not two feet from your desk. You hit the icon in the upper panel of your phone and scrolled through the notifications, pausing to turn on another episode of the cable sitcom from ten years before. You snorted as you read each comment but the number under the video made your eyes round. The thing was bound to go viral.

As usual, you went down to help with supper. Pippin, the orange tabby, returned to cry at his dish and you fed him too. Your nan peered through her glasses at a crossword as she tasted the tangy pasta sauce. 

“More basil,” she snipped.

“Well, I asked if you wanted to help,” you muttered, “I think it’s good.”

“Hmmp, I need milk,” she jutted her chin out, “for my after-dinner tea.”

“You couldn’t say something like three hours ago?” you blinked.

“I could have but I didn’t,” she snickered. You rolled your eyes and she took another forkful of penne and filled in another line on her puzzle, “ah, no hurry, girlie, you know I’m patient.”

“Patient? You?” you chuckled as you took your plate and shoved it in the microwave to keep it warm. The ancient thing had a dial and the door stuck, “I’ll just go get it over with.”

“Don’t forget your mitts,” she called after you as you tramped into the front room, “it’s cold.”

You pulled on your knitted cap and matching mitts. You zipped up your parka and shoved your feet into the deep boots. You grabbed your wallet and buried it in the spacious pocket. You bounced out the front door and down the steps as the sky sent down another coat of powder for the night.

You went up White Forge Street and through the short path behind the diner that led to the main road. You glanced over at The Asp, the beacon of the dull town, and turned towards the grocer. Like anywhere in Birch, the store was outdated and stuffy. It felt like stepping into another time with the paper bags and chunky tills.

You went down the center aisle and stopped at the fridge to search through the frosted glass. Your nan only drank whole milk and the last time you carelessly grabbed skim, she whined that even Pippin wouldn’t drink it. She was particular but that was just her nature. You couldn’t say you were any less fussy in some instances.

You grabbed a jug and the door slapped closed against the worn rubber seal. You headed up the candy aisle and brushed your woolly thumb over your chin as you considered gummy bears or Reeses’ Pieces.

“Hard choice?” The deep voice jolted you.

You snatched the box of chocolate and looked over at the man in leather, his chin tucked down behind the collar as snow dusted his shoulders.

“Sure,” you said as you brushed past him.

The cut of the leather told you he was better not entertained. While you thought the men amusing, you weren’t stupid enough to engage with them. You rarely listened to your grandmother but she was wise in her own way. 

You knew a girl in highschool, she was fucking around with one of the club men in her junior year, she ended up with a baby and no support. You didn’t think he was into you that way but he could hardly have innocent intentions.

“How’s the old lady?” Clayton asked as he rung in your order at the end of the belt, you moved along with the groceries and pulled out your wallet.

“The usual, you know? She’s tryna quit again. Don’t know how long it’ll last.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll keep a carton aside for her,” he kidded as you felt your phone vibing in your back pocket.

“Don’t encourage her,” you swiped your card and punched in your pin, “although I don’t know what’s worse; the smoke or her sucking on those mints all the time.”

“Oh, it’s not the bitchin’?” he laughed.

“That, too,” you scooped up the paper bag and put your wallet away, “have a good one.”

As you came to the end of the first counter, you were nearly cut off by the club member as he swept around from till two. His own purchase of a car magazine and jerky was tucked under his arm.

“Ah, sorry,” he smiled, a sparkling smile, almost charming.

“No worries,” you continued on and he followed close behind.

“Those mitts look real warm. ‘Specially in this weather,” he said as you pushed open the door.

“Uh huh,” you kept on as your boots crunched out into the snow.

“You know where I can get a pair. Leather isn’t exactly thermal, you know?”

“These? My nan made ‘em. I’m sure Clayton got some hung up back there,” you looked across the street as you stepped up onto the ledge of snow between the sidewalk and the road.

“Am I bothering you?” he asked.

You looked at him dumbly and almost laughed in his face. You glanced back across the street then down towards The Asp.

“Sorta,” you answered.

“Make you a deal. Leave ya alone for your name.”

You eyed him. He was older than you like many of the Commandos. At least a decade, likely more than that. You chewed on your hesitation and cradled the bag more firmly against your side. His eyes strayed as he tried to see through the thick layer of your coat.

“Nah, I’m not s’posed to talk to strangers,” you said and hopped off onto the road.

You heard him behind you as he struggled to follow and as you came up to the other side, he came parallel with you and kept stride with you easily.

“I know you’re young but you’re not a kid,” he intoned, “what’s the harm in a name?”

“It’s a small town,” you stopped short of the end of White Forge, “I think I know enough about you to avoid you.”

“Oh ho, is that it? Well, I’m Sam, I’m not a stranger now, am I?”

“Not interested, Sam. Sure there’s women your own age over at the bar,” you nodded behind him.

“You wanna come see? Maybe have a drink?” he gave a crooked grin.

“You don’t give up, do you?” you shook your head, put off by his forwardness.

“Well?”

“Not tonight, Sam,” you turned around and headed down White Forge.

“Then what night?” he asked but you didn’t answer and he didn’t follow.

You turned down onto your street and refused to look back in case. It would be best not to mention the run-in to your nan, she was paranoid enough as it was. Besides, you’d forget about it by the end of next week.

[hogwartsmarvelmommy]

Sick days

Harry Holland

A/n: hi, I'm sick and I wanted some fluffy Harry so uh... Sorry if this sucks :) I didn't edit it or reread it so... Oops 😬

Blurb- 600 words

You had felt it coming on for a few days, the light tickle in your throat when you breathed, the constant pounding headache, and the sensitivity to touch. So when you woke up on Tuesday morning, head pounding, throat sore, and with no energy to swing your legs from bed, you knew it. 

“Ughh,” you groaned followed by a dry cough. It wasnt that you had anything super important going on, but it was annoying, getting sick at any point. Today was supposed to be your monthly game night with the Hollands (And Harrison) But now that was obviously going to be without you. You pulled out your phone and noticed Harry had already messaged you.

 You knew there was no use in fighting Harry, he was one who always seemed to get his way, so you forced yourself up, to go and unlock the door, put some pants on before falling back into bed. Your eyes fluttered closed as you layed there, you weren't intending to fall back asleep, but the exhaustion pushed you into it, and before you knew it your eyes were opening to a dark room, as the whole day had passed you by while you had been peacefully tucked into bed. 

You pushed yourself into a sitting position and noticed Harry's hoodie laid out on the bed in front of you. 

You let out a chuckle before pulling it onto your head, the aroma of his cologne filling your stuffy nose. You climbed out of bed and slowly made your way to the living room where you were hit with the smell of soup, and the sight of Harry on the couch, laptop on his lap and pen between his teeth as he focused on whatever he was working on. “You made me soup?” you asked, voice raspy and barely audible, but still making him jump. 

“I did not, I made Sam make you soup and bring it over,” He chuckled. “See you found my hoodie. I know that one is your favorite,” He smiled at you. 

You nodded as you walked over and got yourself a bowl of the hot soup. “You didn't need to come Har, I know you were excited about tonight,” You told him.

“Y/N, i was only excited  because you were going to be there, without you it's the same as every other day,” Harry told you. 

“Shut up,” you said loudly, making yourself cough.  You sat on the couch across from Harry making his brows furrow.

“What are you doing?” He demanded. 

“I'm eating the soup,” You told him. 

“Why are you all the way over there?” He asked. You let out a chuckle.

“Because I'm sick and I don't want to get you sick,” You informed him. 

“Y/N, I came over with the understanding that i was probably going to catch whatever you got, I brought clothes, i'm not planning on leaving until you're well,” He explained pointing to his oversized duffle bag.

“Harry,” You giggled as he put everything down beside him, and came to sit next to you.

“I'm here for it all darling, to take care of you when your sick and nurse you back to health, to laugh at your really unfunny jokes you tell,” 

“Hey, my jokes are funny!” You exclaimed, causing another cough to leave your mouth.

“They're so funny,” He said sarcastically, making you shove him with your elbow. “Just want you to feel better is all,” He whispered before pressing his lips to your temple. 

“I love you harry,” You sighed in content.

“I love you more, my little snotty girl,” He hummed. 

“Harry,” you groaned, shoving him again. 

“What,  I ruined the moment?” He chuckled. 

“YES!” You laughed out loud as he pulled you into his arms. 

“Sorry snotty,” He teased. You couldn't help but fall deeper in love with him and all his goofy qualities. He may only be your best friend, but you knew deep down he was so much more.

Tag list:

@violetlilysunshine  

@petesrparker

@harryhollandsgirlfriend

@mcushvft

@elishi03

@nelebynele

@sunwardsss

@delightfulmuffinclamauthor

[biisexualemma]

home. pt 4. bucky barnes

word count: 4.1k

warnings: implications of sex (blink and you'll miss it), nudity (again nothing descriptive) but generally lots of fluff and tiny bit of angst

requested: yes and no but it's here anyway lol

plot: you're recovering from your mission with sam and his family, patiently awaiting for bucky to come home

a/n: thank you for the support on this series loool i hope you like this! i think this will likely be the last part! it rounds off quite nicely i think so hope this is a satisfying ending! i loved writing this, especially the bathroom scene! enjoy! comment! lmk what you think! (also sorry this is so long i got carried away when editing oop--)

pt.1 / pt.2 / pt.3 / marvel masterlist / multi-fandom masterlist

you huffed, swatting away the tiny hand prodding your forehead. when it persisted, you let out a throaty groan, forcing open your groggy eyes, to see cass, sam's nephew, nose to nose with you. you scrunched up your nose, squinting at him with tired eyes, before letting out a breathy laugh and shoving his face away with the palm of your hand.

"can't a girl get a lie in around here?" you grumbled, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as aj came running into the sitting room following his brother. you shot him a small smile, cautiously pushing yourself upright on the couch. you bit down on the inside of your cheek, the familiar sharpness shooting through your ribs as you repositioned yourself, trying to mask any pain you felt.

"nope," cass hopped on the end of the couch, sitting himself on top of you, shaking his head with a toothy grin. you let out a strained yawn, stretching your arms up over your head, having to force yourself awake. you winced, the stabbing pain returning as you dropped your arms back to your side. you tried to disguise it with a small laugh, ruffling up cass' hair, who was sat watching you from his end of the couch.

"mom had to go down to the harbour with uncle sam," aj informed you, positioning himself on the arm of the couch beside you. you nodded, sighing lightly, you slumped your shoulders, you were still tired. you had gotten pretty close to sam's family in the past week or so you'd spent on their couch, but it was so easy to love these kids. they were the sweetest, cheekiest kids you'd ever met. they reminded you so much of sam. "'told us to look after you."

"no," you shook your head, quickly protesting. "i'm the adult here."

"maybe," aj wore a wide, cheeky smile, dragging out the word. "but uncle sam says you're a hot mess, and that we gotta' help you out," you could hear sam saying this to his nephew. your eyebrows knitted, glancing between the two boys who were giggling as you feigned a look of hurt. you couldn't help but crack a small smile after a while, they were too easy and they were too cute to even pretend to be mad at.

"your uncle sam doesn't know what he's talking about," you waved away his comment. "i'm fine," you insisted quickly before a small, insubordinate smirk began forming on your lips. their faces lit up with small smiles, watching your every move, taking in everything you were saying. that was one thing you loved about kids, you could tell them absolutely anything and they would believe you, no questions asked. you turned your attention back to cass who was still sat, legs crossed, his weight crushing your feet a little (though you didn't mind so much). he had the cheekiest smile of the both of them. "so," you quirked an eyebrow. "are you gonna' sit on me all day or do you wanna eat some pancakes?" you had to suppress your laughter when his eyes widened, knowing just how much he loved breakfast food. kids were too easily persuaded.

his lips tightened, trying to hold back an excited smile. he glanced over at his older brother, trying to figure out if he was allowed to accept your offer, before his eyes moved back at you. you tilted your head, giving him a look. "well?" you teased, knowing you had him.

"pancakes!" he caved, just like you knew he would. you couldn't blame him, who could resist pancakes. his voice raised an octave higher in his excitement. you giggled as cass hopped off of you, running towards the kitchen with his older brother following behind him, just as enthusiastically.

you let out a soft humph, your smile falling a little as you dragged your feet over the side of the couch, letting them hang there for a moment. you were healing well, you just constantly felt wiped out now you had finally taken a breather. you hadn't realised how much you'd been pushing yourself during this mission, until you stopped. sam had noticed too, so he wasn't letting you contribute much around the house.

you had been hesitant to accept his offer at first, the last thing you wanted to do, after everything, was impose. you knew sam had his own stuff to work out too. but it was sarah, in the end, who reassured you that you were more than welcome to stick around as long as you needed. something about your presence around the house being much needed as she was currently outnumbered three to one. so, to try and make yourself somewhat useful, you offered to watch the boys anytime she needed.

you were grateful to them both for letting you crash, and, truthfully, you were happy you did take the offer in the end, it was much needed. it also helped that literally every single person you had met was kind and welcoming, something you hadn't felt in a while. that, along with sam's lovely family, was enough to keep your mind off things for a while.

things being bucky, who you hadn't heard from since the fight with walker. he hadn't checked in with you once. you knew he had his own stuff to handle but it still didn't make you feel great knowing he was out there god knows where, doing god knows what. it stung a little when he up and left you like that without a second thought. if he wasn't willing for you to tag along, you expected for him to communicate his plans to you, at the least. but you should've known, bucky had never been very good at communicating.

"y/n, c'mon! it's pancake time!" you were pulled out of your thoughts by aj, whose hand latched onto yours, urging you onto your feet. you forced a small smile, pushing any thoughts out of your head that didn't involve making pancakes, and ignoring the dull ache in your chest that came whenever you thought about him. if you just kept busy, you wouldn't have to think about any of it.

-

you lifted your hand to your face, wiping away the beads of sweat dripping from your forehead. the sun was high and it was sweltering, you hadn't adjusted to the louisiana heat yet and you weren't sure you ever would.

you peeled off the jacket that was starting to stick to your clammy skin, tossing it aside, deciding that now was a good time to take a break. collapsing onto an upturned crate, you let out a weighted sigh, squinting, using the back of your hand to shield your eyes as the sun shone down into your line of sight.

"here," sarah appeared behind you, handing over a cold bottle of water. you mumbled a quiet thank you, before quickly gulping down the refreshing water. you let out a content sigh after quenching your thirst, your shoulders slumping. she rested her hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently before taking a seat beside you. "how y'getting on?"

you shrugged, your eyes watching your feet, feeling the subtle sway of the boat floating on the water. "sam won't let me help with the heavy duty stuff, so he's got me painting," you motioned to the bucket of paint and the brush sitting on the ground where you had left them.

she nodded. "and how you feelin'?"

you straightened your back, lifting your gaze to meet her stare for a second. "i'm getting there. but this heat doesn't quit," she let out a soft laugh, nodding again.

"yeah, that's something you never really get used to," she patted your shoulder again, another soft, reassuring squeeze. "i gotta' run to the store, i'll be back in a half hour. need anything?" you shook your head, mumbling a quiet no thank you. "alright, well, don't strain yourself."

you rolled your eyes, halfheartedly. she wore a teasing smile, one that reminded you of sam. they were so alike, it was weird sometimes when you thought about how this was the life behind the man you had known for so many years. "i won't," she nudged your shoulder when you shook your head again. "not with sam around anyway," you joked, scrunching up your nose.

"hey," she called, edging away from you as she made to leave. you looked over at her, blocking the sun from your eyes with your hand. she quirked an eyebrow at you. "he's looking out for you! we all are," you tightened your lips, trying to disguise the smile growing on your lips. you nodded, waving goodbye as she left the boat.

it felt nice to have the small circle of people who cared for you, starting to grow.

a loud noise emitting from the other end of the boat caught your attention, your eyes widening when you spotted a cloud of steam gushing from one of the pipes. you darted over, your hands frantically hovering around the pipe as you tried to figure out how best to fix whatever it was that was broken. you rummaged through the tool box sitting next to you, and grabbed a wrench, purely because it felt the like the right tool to grab. in truth, you had no idea what the hell you were doing. you clapped the tool around the pipe, trying with all your might to stop the steam from spitting out.

"sam!" you hollered over your shoulder, trying to catch the mans attention so he could help you. "i have no idea what the hell i'm doing!" you called blindly in a panic, hoping someone would swing in and take over before you made this any worse.

"here," you felt a hand tap your shoulder, so you let go of the tool and stepped back. only it wasn't sam like you had expected. you stumbled backwards into sam, his hands touching your forearm as you regained your balance. it was bucky who had his hands clamped round the wrench, fixing the pipe with relative ease.

you gulped. you couldn't figure out how you were feeling now he was in front of you. your feelings were mixed. mainly you felt relieved that he was in front of you in one piece. "thanks," was all you managed to croak out once he turned to face you. his eyes focused on you, squinting from the sun in his eyes. he opened his mouth to say something to you when sam cut him off.

"why didn't you use your metal arm?" you raised an eyebrow, watching as bucky shrugged, his eyes dragging away from you and towards sam.

"i don't always think of it immediately," he admitted honestly. "i'm right handed."

you sighed. you sometimes wondered how this was the same man who traipsed around for ninety years as the winter soldier. you rolled your eyes, moving away from the two of them, returning to the painting you'd been hard at work with before all this commotion.

you'd just have to speak to bucky later, when you could be alone. right now, you were helping sam.

--

bucky had reluctantly agreed to stay the night after a long day working on the boat. you had been carefully avoiding him all day. you didn't feel much like hashing things out in front of sam and his entire family, so you stuck your head down and got on with your work.

but now it was pretty late, a lot of time had passed, and you had yet to catch your boyfriend alone. you figured a shower would do you good, to clean you up and hopefully clear your head.

your eyes were deeply focused on your own, watching yourself in the foggy mirror after finally leaving the comfort of the hot shower. your eyes were sunken, hollow almost as you looked back at yourself. you didn't look like yourself. you looked tired all the time, mainly because you were tired all the time.

you hadn't been sleeping as well without bucky next to you. along with sam's nephews waking you up at the crack of dawn every morning, you weren't getting as much sleep as you should be. though you couldn't blame the boys, they were excited to have someone in the house that let them do whatever they wanted to do (though it got you in trouble a fair bit). bucky, however, you could blame. if he had just told you straight where he was going, what his plan was. if he'd just contacted you so you knew he was ok all that time he was away. but he didn't. he left you behind to finish his own mission, not thinking twice about how it would make you feel.

your fingertips grazed over the skin of your neck, the bruising was finally starting to turn an ugly yellow colour, meaning it would start to fade away soon. most of your wounds had healed, you were mainly left with bruises and scabs and a subtle ache. nothing too serious. but it certainly made you look like hell.

you pursed your lips, your fingertips trailing down your chest, until gently brushing against the large purple-green bruise running across your ribs. you twisted your abdomen to get a better a look at the bruise that circled round to your back, wincing and gritting your teeth as you did. sam mentioned something about your ribs taking longer to heal than any of the other injuries, you just didn't think he meant it'd take this long.

you startled, flinching from the knock on the door, drifting you out of your thoughts and back to your current state. you grabbed a towel from the rack beside you and wrapped it around yourself. "yeah?" you called out in response to the knock. you wiped away the droplets of water covering your face with your hand, sniffling as you secured the towel around your chest.

"it's me," the soft, familiar voice muffled through the door dividing the two of you. you gulped, glancing at your reflection one last time, before turning away.

you hesitated, but ultimately unlocked the door and pulled it open. you turned back to the mirror, leaving the door to hang open as you stood with your back to him. he let himself in, locking the door again behind himself. he hovered by the door, falling back against it, his eyes watching carefully as you ran your hands over your face.

you glanced at him in the reflection of the mirror, out the corner of your eye. his eyes lingered over your body, only his eyes were just as hollow as yours. after a moment of silence, he let out a sigh, and edged across the small space to be closer to you. "hey," he mumbled softly, his hands gripping your waist over the towel. you took in a sharp breath, your hands quickly moving to his to pull them away from your tender bruises. you turned yourself to face him, still holding his hands that hovered over your waist now. his eyes widened slightly, moving back and forth between yours, looking for you to tell him what he'd done wrong.

"sore still," you scrunched up your nose, the ache slowly fading away again after he'd let go. it wasn't his fault, he wasn't to know.

his eyebrows creased together, his eyes trickling down to the visible bruises marked around your throat. he gulped, he gave your hands a soft squeeze before moving them to your shoulders. he couldn't pull his stare away from you, he was taking you all in. his fingertips pressing into your shoulders gently, his lips pursing.

"m'sorry," he mumbled in a whisper. his eyes lifting back up to yours again, soaked with guilt.

you shook your head faintly. "y'didn't know--"

"no--" he shook his head. "i'm sorry i left like that," his hands slipping from your shoulders, his soft touch trailing down your bare arms before gripping your forearms. he hadn't noticed the bandage on your wrist until his fingers grazed against the material. he scrunched up his face, his touch leaving you as he turned away. he moved a hand to his face, his forefinger and thumb trying to unknit the crease between his eyebrows.

"it's alright, buck," you spoke softly. it wasn't really ok, at least, not how he left. but you didn't want him beating himself up about you being hurt, that was part of the job, that had nothing to do with him. "i'm fine, really."

"you're still a terrible liar," his voice was cold, and your chest tightened. "i should've held back longer before i left," he shook his head again, his gaze dropping to the floor. "i should've said something," you let out a sigh, reaching out, your fingertips grazing his arm. he turned around under your touch, his jaw clenched when he met your eyes again. he never imagined being this much under someones control ever again. but here you were, and he would do anything you asked.

you pursed your lips. "maybe," you shrugged. you had given it some thought throughout the day. you couldn't hold a grudge against him forever, he made a split second decision, and he knew he was leaving you in capable hands. "but what's happened has happened. there was a lot going on. i'm sure you're still processing a lot of it."

he was pouring so much emotion into you with just a stare, your eyes fluttering as you held his gaze. "i was angry-- i didn't think everything through-- i just-- i knew i needed to deal with zemo."

you sniffled, gulping down the lump in your throat. "i get it. you didn't want me there to see any of it," you thought back to when bucky told you he never wanted you to have to see him as the winter soldier again. you thought back to watching bucky fight under zemo's control. you understood why he needed to do what he did, you'd said time and time again, you would kill zemo yourself when the mission was over.

"i didn't kill him," he admitted hesitantly. "the Dora Milaje took care of him."

you raised an eyebrow. "oh, that's so much worse for him," bucky nodded in agreement, his lips pursing. "good."

"yeah," he trailed off, his eyes glossing over for a moment as if lost in thought. you wished sometimes that you could see inside that head of his. you nudged his side after a while, mumbling a quiet hey, his eyes focusing back on you. he frowned. "what was the damage?"

you shrugged. "i think walker had a hearing--"

"no-- no--" he cut you off quickly, your mouth hanging open as he stopped you mid-sentence. "you. what's the extent of your injuries? how you feelin'?"

"oh," your eyebrows unknitted, shrugging again. "i--uh-- had a mild concussion. a few broken ribs and just a lot of bruising, some open wounds but it wasn't too bad considering i went up against a super soldier," you forced a smile, trying to ease some of the tension that bucky was creating with that frown on his face.

you moved your hand up to his face, cupping his cheek. your thumb grazed his cheek, and you remembered the gash across his face had healed since the last time you saw him. you gave him a genuine, soft smile in hopes of reassuring him. "i really am fine. sam says i just need to take it easy for a couple weeks."

he nodded faintly. he hovered his hand over yours, turning his cheek and pressing his lips to the palm of your hand. your eyelids fluttered feeling his lips touch your skin tenderly. made you realise just how much you had missed bucky since he'd been away. he squeezed your hand affectionately, his lips lingering on your skin.

your free hand quickly moved to your towel when it loosened around your chest, just catching it in time. bucky's eyes moved to your towel for a split second, like he was suddenly reminded that you were standing in front of him in practically nothing. his eyes remained soft as he looked at you though, he cleared his throat before moving his hand to your cheek, slipping his fingers into your wet hair gently.

"how're you healing?" he mumbled in a whisper.

you gulped, his eyes locked on yours as he spoke. your eyes darted back and forth between his. "bruises are still there but they're fading," you spoke softly now that he was close enough to you. you could feel his breath fanning against your skin. he nodded, biting the inside of his cheek as he tried to keep his eyes from drifting downwards. "wanna' see?"

his eyebrows twitched into a frown for only a second, unsure that he heard you correctly. "uh-- yeah," he breathed out, his breath grazing your skin. you untied the towel from round your chest, letting it fall to the floor beneath you with a soft thud.

bucky's jaw tightened. usually, quite happy to see you standing in front of him wearing absolutely nothing, he couldn't shift his eyes for a while from the enormous bruise covering your abdomen. his eyebrows unknitted, unsettled by the nasty bruise spread over your soft skin, his eyes shooting up to yours quickly.

"fuck walker," he muttered under his breath. "this is all from him?" you nodded faintly, eyes fluttering and your breath hitching in your throat when his fingers carefully brushed against the discoloured stretch of skin.

"it was a lot worse," you spoke in a hushed voice. "it's healed a lot."

bucky didn't speak for a while and neither did you, his eyes trailing over your body, unclothed facing him. after a moment, he got down onto his knees. you gulped, his head tilting back for a second, eyes meeting yours from beneath you. your breaths grew rapid the closer he got, his forehead gently falling against your bare stomach before pressing a soft kiss to the purple--green lesion covering your skin. you let out a shaky breath, shifting your arms so you could run your fingers through his hair. you still weren't used to the length.

"i love you," he mumbled against your skin. your hands stilled where they rested in his hair, moving to tilt his head back, forcing his eyes to meet yours again. he pressed another sweet kiss to your stomach before moving himself back up to your height. your eyes were wide slightly, your fingers slipping out from between his locks. both his hands moving to either side of your face now. "don't freak out on me, you don't have to say it back. 'just needed you to know what i was thinking."

"and you're thinking-- that you love me?" you reiterated. he nodded, the corner of his lips turning into a soft smile. you couldn't help but mimic his expression, your heart beating a bit harder now, the sound rushing through your ears. it had been a long time since someone had told you they loved you, and meant it. a warm feeling spread through your chest, you were on such a high, soaking in the way he was looking at you with tender eyes. "pretty sure i love you too, buck."

you were a hundred percent sure, you just didn't want to seem too keen. you were already standing in front of him naked.

his lips stretched into a wider smile, ducking his head for a second, remembering suddenly that you were in fact completely naked in front of him, and he hadn't done anything about it. you swallowed a small laugh escaping your lips, watching a realisation hit bucky before he ducked down to your height and pressed his lips against yours. you relished in the feeling. "i love you, i love you, i love you," he muttered repeatedly, his lips pushed against yours, your smile growing wider every time he said it. you choked out a laugh, pushing at bucky's chest so you could catch a breath.

"i get it," you scrunched up your nose. "you love me," you teased, laughing wholeheartedly. you felt warm and comforted and somewhat normal for the first time in a really long time. you nudged his chest once more, his hands gripping your hips to pull you back to him. "so show me."

bucky's smile grew with your words, his mouth hanging open for a second. he didn't know how things managed to work out this good for him, but he wasn't going to question it. he was going to enjoy every moment with you for as long as he could.

"oh, god," he let out a throaty wine. "gladly."

taglist: @lo-manburg @bluemoon-icecream @farfromjustordinary @stolenxkissess

[lost-between-letters]

💙200 Follower Celebration💙

Hi! You guys, I can't tell you how giddy I was when I saw that we reached the 200 followers! You're amazing people, all of you and make me so happy by reading and/or sharing my work 💖

In celebration of that, I came up with a list of 25 prompts for you to choose from and I'll write you a drabble or oneshot revolving around it and the character you selected

Rules are as following:

Send me your request as an ASK

Add the # of the prompt and the name of your desired character (whoever you'd like to see as long as they appeared on supernatural at least once up to/including s13)

Please only one prompt per request but come back as often as you want to

Deadline: 21. May 2022

And that's it already!

Edit: it's closed now

Prompts (below the cut):

1. "Stop staring at the knife and kiss me"

2. "I'm shaking in fear." "Don't patronise me." Whatcha Got There? (Dean Winchester)

3. "I don't know how much longer I can keep this a secret."

4. "Whatever you need, take it. Just be safe."

5. "Five more minutes." "You said that twenty minutes ago."

6. "Come back to me in one piece, please." Don't Die (Sam Winchester)

7. "Look me in the eye and say that again."

8. "I can and have changed fate. And I will do it again if it means that I can keep that smile on your face." A Flicker Of Hope (Sam Winchester)

9. "Please hold me a little longer."

10. "There's a blade stuck in your thigh and you're laughing?" Practice Makes (Not) Perfect (Dean Winchester)

11. "There's been a little incident." Sigh "what did they break this time?" [1] Oops? (Sam Winchester) [2] I'm Not Mad (Jack Kline)

12. "Stop pointing the gun at me you're making me nervous." "This is a hostage situation, you're supposed to be nervous." Family Ties

13. "Last time I saw you, you were covered in glitter, lipstick and pudding. Don't even try to act tough with me."

14. "I will tear you to dust when I find a scratch on them. And I keep my promises." I Keep My Promises (Sam Winchester)

15. "My people need me!" "Honey, it's just a game."

16. "I'm not afraid of you. I never was."

17. "Listen, I know what you're trying to say but you seriously have to work on your communication skills."

18. "Steal that blanket again and I'm gonna make a cocoon out of it and let you hang from the ceiling in it."

19. "It wasn't your fault."

20. "A kiss in exchange for the pie."

21. "My my, what have we here." Hello Hello (Dean Winchester)

22. "Try that again, Sweetheart and I show you what pain means."

23. "I've been waiting for you." The Dark Of The Night (Dean Winchester)

24. "Show me what they did to you so I know how long they will suffer."

25. "All the money in the world for a kiss!" "A smile would be enough."