#(i be like *watches a new thing* *wants to add muses* *doesn't write them* *watches a new thing* *wants to a-)

[kimpossibly]

🪐 ; planet: send me this emoji + a character on my writing list + any word of your choosing and i'll write you a ficlet using the word as a prompt!

cats + wednesday addams !

WEDNESDAY ADDAMS + CATS

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi hi hi this is so cute!! I'm not a cat person in the slightest (I'm one hundo percent a dog person tbh) but I can soooo imagine Wednesday having a black cat. I didn't know if you wanted me to add romance into it so I just tried to keep it plain simple, just using the prompts! I'm so sorry this took me so long to get to, I had some family emergencies come up really recently and so I haven't had much time to really sit down and work on anything other than school or family stuff. Hope you enjoy and thank you my love for the ask!

PAIRING: wednesday addams x gn!reader WARNINGS: cats (?? idk if that's a needed warning but I figured I'd list it anyway haha)

Wednesday didn't take in strays. She was usually too busy with her own endeavors to really have time for them — you were the exception of course. But she liked having you around, and that made all the distance. So when the black cat appeared on her doorstep, staring up at her with big green eyes, she didn't need to think twice.

"Shoo. Go," she said monotonously, staring at the creature with disdain. When it refused to move, she made a shooing motion with her hands. "I said leave."

You appeared around the corner, your face twisted in a frown. "Who are you talking to?"

Wednesday stepped aside to reveal the cat on your doorstep and, to her surprise, you broke out into a massive grin. "Aw, look at the little guy!" you swooned, running over to pet the cat. It appeared friendly, nuzzling into your palm. "I wonder if he's lost?"

You searched for a collar, but none was found. "He might've run away," you suggested.

And Wednesday, who saw a new problem arising, was quick to shut you down. "He can find his way home. Leave him be."

A sudden crack of thunder rattled the window panes as the first drizzle of rain began to dot the sidewalk outside. The cat looked around at the worsening weather, then back at you, its wide eyes frightened. You looked up at Wednesday with a matching expression, your own eyes pleading her to let the cat stay. She let out an almost imperceptible sigh, then nodded for you to bring the cat in.

You smiled at her as you scooped the cat up, bringing him inside. Within a few hours the cat had been bathed, fed, and given a place to sleep. All the while you'd led him around the house, giving him a tour (as Wednesday watched, fuming, from the side). You'd murmur "Here, kitty," you coax him to room after room, speaking to him like he could understand you perfectly.

After a while you walked about the house, holding the cat in your arms like it was a baby. It seemed to enjoy this time of treatment as it pawed at your hair and clothes and nuzzled its head into the crook of your neck.

"I feel like we should give him a name in the meantime," you mused aloud, "so that we don't have to keep calling him kitty. I get the sense that he doesn't like it."

"Perhaps we should let it go, then." Wednesday said, suddenly appearing in the doorway. "Wouldn't want to wound its pride."

You ignored her, suddenly having a bright idea. "Why don't you give him a name, Wednesday? Just one that we can use before we go out and find his owners tomorrow."

Wednesday kept her stoic glare forward, causing you to pout. "Come on, look at this little face!" you said, turning the cat toward her and squishing its small cheeks. "This is the face of a cat that wants to be properly addressed."

Wednesday did not want pets. But she couldn't resist you.

"Poe," Wednesday said finally. "After Edgar Allen Poe."

You grinned at her. "I think it suits him."

You floated away then, Poe in hand, to introduce him to Thing. The two did not get along at first, with Thing being slightly afraid, slightly jealous. But, within minutes, Poe was chasing him around, playing a lighthearted game of tag. Wednesday watched as you sat on the floor, playing referee to the game, smiling all the while. She crossed her arms over her chest, determined not to enjoy the sight, but even she had to admit — the cat was kind of cute. Or maybe it was how much you liked the cat that was cute.

The next day, you went out about the neighborhood, knocking on doors, asking around, and putting up flyers that Thing had helped you make. No one claimed the cat, and no one rang your line to claim him. You had to negotiate with Wednesday to let Poe stay another day. Then another, and then another. No one asked after the cat.

Four days later you were on the couch, reading and drinking coffee, the cat curled into your side. Wednesday came and sat next to you, eyeing the cat carefully. "They've been known to eat their owners after they die," she said.

"That's only if they're starving," you replied without a beat. "Dogs could do the same thing. Or humans."

"Don't get so morbid with me — I'm not in the mood for romance." she said.

Poe suddenly stood, crawling away from his perch next to you and found his next interest in Wednesday, brushing his cheek against her black sweater. She looked down at him with disdain. "This won't work out for you."

You just chuckled to yourself. "You're communicating with him. It's the first step."

Wednesday looked up, alarmed. "First step to what?"

You just got up to refill your coffee mug, humming as you did so.

The days dragged on and Poe became a fixture in yours and Wednesday's house. More than once you had woken up to find him curled at the foot of your bed, purring softly as he slept.

And Wednesday was, against her own will, warming up to Poe. You'd catch her mindlessly petting his head when she thought you weren't looking. She'd even slip him treats secretly just to gain his favor.

Within a week, you were nearly convinced that Wednesday loved Poe just as much as you did. So you had to put it to the test.

One day you walked into the living room, where Wednesday was sat writing her novel, Poe curled at her feet. You sighed sadly. "Wednesday, I've been thinking, and you're right — we can't take care of a pet. I think it's time we take Poe to a shelter, don't you think?"

Wednesday turned, eyes wide. You blinked. "Do you disagree?"

Wordlessly, Wednesday bent down and scooped Poe up, holding him tightly to her chest. "He stays."

You just smiled in satisfaction, nodding once. You sat down next to her, petting Poe softly. "How could I have seen that coming?"

[therosebunpost]

Oh to be Steddie's crafty GF~!

So, im touching on this topic in my Steve x Manic Pixie Dream couple story, of course, but I just wanna take a moment to gush about this idea.

Like, making things for them would be lit. My first thought is making Sports merch for Steve!! Shirts, hats, shorts, whatever. You either hand dye it to match the team colors or upcycle already existing things to add some personality to it.

Oh!! And upcycling his old clothes! Bet, you take some of his old polos and make dresses out of them by adding fabric to it! I think he'd love seeing you walk around knowing that shirt used to be his once upon a time. You just look so cute, and he'll even buy a new matching polo. (Listen, Steve feels like the type of dude who would 100% be down for matching things. I just feel it in my bones.)

Personally, I headcanon that Steve isn't very artistic. Not that he doesn't get it or he doesn't like it, no. It's just, he's never really felt the need to pursue it. He'll join in on activities involving crafts, but he's more interested in the social aspect rather then the craft itself. Likes watching others be creative and supporting them in doing so!! He loves watching you and Eddie in your elements, offering support and opinions when he can but ultimately just vibing.

Speaking of our dear Metalhead, craft buddies!!! You can not convince me that man hasn't got a crafty bone in his body, because he absolutely does! Now, I feel like Eddie is the embodiment of those cross stitch/embroidered pieces where you expect some wholesome, grandmotherly quote but instead its "This isn't a whore house, its a whore home." Or he'd 100% be the one who makes something vaguely (lets face it, theres no subtly) phallic or vaginal shaped. My dude is putting dicks, butts, boobs and coochie where he can, if he can.

That aside, I do think he's very artistic and actually does have things to say with that talent. Be it music, his writing, or any art medium you'd think he'd pick up. Sure, there's goofy stuff, but mixed in are some deeper meanings. Messages about the world and his life. I also think that stuff is really good. He puts a lot of effort into it, even the joke stuff. Hell, especially the joke stuff because "obviously you gotta make the boobs sit correctly or else the whole bit is thrown off, Steve!" (Steve reacting to that art just sounds so funny to me. He's supportive but also how can they bring anyone over anymore when there's a painting of a weed leaf hanging over the couch, or the goofy art of butts in the bathroom???) Also, I do think Eddie would happily make you both things. In fact, thats his love language. He's written you both songs, made patches for clothes, has even helped you in making custom Sports merch for Steve. Beyond just crafts, I also think he likes fixing things. (Even if Steve tells him he'll just buy a new one, Eddie likes seeing if he can fix it.)

Okay i think I got on a Eddie craft rant right there, but!! Back to you!! So, I imagine you've helped Eddie make props for campaigns, screen printed shirts for Corroded Coffin, and Hellfire, and also just thing's he likes. Custom band merch, book merch, all the merch!

As for your own crafts for yourselves, they love seeing what you come up with! If you make clothes, they absolutely want to see them. If you make jewelry, they admire it on you all the time. If you do something else, like crochet or knit, they love watching your hands as you work with the yarn. If you cook or bake, you bet your ass that they want to eat it, whatever it is. Steve is just so in awe of your ability to create something out of thin air. Eddie is constantly inspired and finds a muse in both you and Steve.

Just, being the crafty GF of them sounds nice~

[merakiui]

https://merakiui.tumblr.com/post/702097455125299200/you-think-twst-mobs-ships-their-respective

I can see savanaclaw mobs and pomefiore mobs getting into a ship war like their life depended on it. Pomefiore mobs called savanaclaw mobs Leona x Mc/yuu ship as toxic ship and savanaclaw mobs reminded them that their dorm leader also tried to kill Mc/yuu once

And i agree with one of the comment. Ignihyde mobs will helps idia cyber stalking his crush.

Heartslabyul mobs or octavinelle mobs accidentaly sends their fanfic to the dorm leaders (they planned to send the link to their shipper friends)

Riddle punishes those who send such foolish fiction to him, but he secretly keeps all of it and reads it before bed in hopes that he might dream of these exact scenarios. The more explicit writings have yet to be perused, but he certainly wishes to set aside time for a review of them.

Azul thought these files would have more value and they most certainly do. For once he's actually pleased to read something that isn't dirt on the next student or a list of students to watch out for when making deals. Like Riddle, Azul also delights in privately reading the fanfics he was sent. He claims it's not a huge issue when the mobs come to him with their heads hung in shame, humiliated to have accidentally sent the wrong files to their dorm leader. Azul waves it off dismissively, but the minute they're out of his sight he grows flustered and retreats to his VIP room.

Leona doesn't understand what all the fuss is about. His guys have been more restless and agitated than usual. When Vil tells him to keep his students in check, he has no idea what the Pomefiore Housewarden is referring to. If it's about roughhousing, that's just how things work in Savanaclaw, but he knows his guys aren't foolish enough to engage in fights on someone else's territory. When he finds out the true cause for their agitation is some silly 'shipping war' he can only sigh in disappointment. Of all the things to bicker over and it's about some pairing... Leona claims he doesn't care, but he's still going to keep his ears open if he catches any of the guys discussing it. And Ruggie will provide him with any new gossip regarding the matter as well.

Kalim truly doesn't mind it. In fact, he probably had no idea his students were writing stories about him and you. He's flattered when he finds out and even suggests holding a party to commemorate creative fiction! He wants to try his hand at writing this marvelous thing called fanfiction, so he'll write something about you and Jamil! It'll be lots of fun!

Vil isn't surprised to learn about this shipping war. Celebrities are no strangers to fanfiction and ships. He knows there exists plenty of Vil x Reader fanfiction and it doesn't bother him one bit. Writing is an art, so he's pleased that he can act as a muse for so many people. The Vil x Neige fanfiction irks him, though. Vil usually doesn't acknowledge useless shipping wars. They can spiral out of control fast and it would only add more fuel to the fire if he addressed it. But walking out of the Housewarden meeting, he passes Leona and offers him a satisfied smile. "It appears I'm the most favored match. Who would have thought you'd take second place yet again."

Idia is over the moon when he's sent a file with all of your data and facts written in startling detail. It's all encrypted for privacy reasons. Idia actually encourages his students to look into any and all information they can dig up on you. His students are just happy to be part of this digital scavenger hunt and this is also the happiest they've ever seen their Housewarden. Their cyberstalking efforts soon become dangerous because now they treat you as if you're an idol. They pass on information of where you were last seen, who you were with, and where you're going next. In the meantime, Idia compiles all of this information into a program to create a simulated version of you. He has to practice on this dating sim he coded before he can even think to approach you!

Malleus was unaware that any of his students did that in their spare time. The mobs probably never tell him about it because they're worried he might find it offensive, but Lilia knows. And when he finds out the students are writing delightful stories regarding you and Malleus he wants in as well. He'll offer to act as a beta reader if any of the students are bold enough to share with him. When Malleus learns of this, he's quite perplexed. This 'fanfiction' is about him? And you're in it as well? His curiosity has been piqued.

[smokedanced]

i'm still shadowbanned so i can't interact with your posts, see my ims or asks, reply to even my own posts, and if it appears i've unfollowed you i have not unfollowed anyone in several weeks, shadowbans fuck with mutual checker and follower lists.

because i'm not more than lurking here because tumblr, but i have to quickly note:

i'm not watching the episode. ever.

i don't know if i'm watching the third season if it gets renewed. i'm too fucking traumatised from previous favourite character deaths, i think it's shitty writing to kill off the disabled character and the character who has just found some happiness after who knows how many years of having not had any of that. while i don't know if i'd call it problematic (ableist or bury your gays), i do think it's shitty, and it definitely is personally triggering to me.

so i'm doing what i did when spn killed off cas: i'm never going to watch the episode.

i'm also going to try harder to not care about ongoing media again. i'm tired. i'm really tired of caring about things and then ending up having to grieve them. i'm not ok. i'm certainly re-jaded to fucking tv shows. i shouldn't have let myself care. every fucking time they fuck you over and you have new trauma and grief.

and don't you fucking dare come tell me "you can't have grief/trauma over a fictional character" i will full on block you.

it's valid if you enjoy the show, i would never tell you not to.

there are major character death scenes in media i have enjoyed, as well. it's ok. just because something hurt me doesn't mean you aren't allowed to like it.

most importantly for this blog. as a rule, i will not allow threads where izzy is dead. even if neither one of us is writing izzy for the thread, i will not allow any threads in the ofmd universe that even refer to izzy being dead. i will add this to my muse specific rules before posting again when i'm out of tumblr jail. obviously this only applies to threads with me, you can write whatever you want with other people. you don't have to content warn tag his death for me either. just don't bring it up on our threads and don't bring it up to me in ooc conversation. thank you.

i feel like my tone is really harsh and cold right now but i'm just trying to. breathe. sending love to you all fellow izzy enjoyers.

[likeabxrdinflight]

i am so very sorry for this but i need to ask: how / where can i find your cora rp blog ?

recently ive come into the ? fifth ?? resurrection of my (long time not visited) ouat fixation and cannot emphasize enough how fond of cora ive been since the first time i managed to watch this show

(its ok if it has since come to be a private matter to you though, or if it is no longer something you are comfortable with)

No, they're not private, and I don't hide them. However, I do use Cora's name as my online alias now. I've tried to wipe all instances of my real name and other identifying information from the roleplay blogs, but if by any chance you run into it there (it's a pretty distinctive name, you'd know it if you saw it,) I ask that it not be used.

There are actually three versions of the blog, the oldest of which can be found here: @sxmethingbreakingarchive. I made this blog in spring of 2014 and kept it through spring of 2016, at which time I felt like that blog was getting very disorganized and hard to manage, so I moved to a new account, which can now be found here: @sxmethingbreaking-a. That blog lasted about a year, I think, where I moved one final time to @sxmethingbreaking, which was the final iteration before I ended up abandoning the muse when I started grad school in fall 2018.

I'm linking you all three because there were story threads and verses that spread across all three blogs. Fair warning, some of the early writing on the first blog is a bit rough, and I don't really stand by all of my earliest interpretations of the character either. Some of the things I wrote back in the day were just kinda weird, I had some bizarre ships, and a lot of my headcanons changed over the years as both the canon of the show and my own personal writing evolved. I mean for context, I think Zelena had just been introduced on the show when I made the first blog. Anything I wrote post season five though (March 2016 onwards) I pretty much stand by, though some of my headcanons and character analysis got a bit...much. I was pretty obsessed and looking back, I'm not sure it was all that healthy lol.

There are navigation pages on all three blogs, though I'm not sure I really recommend using them because I don't know how organized they really are anymore. If you're interested in reading anything specific I'm happy to direct you to some old favorite rp threads, but to start I'd honestly suggest starting with anything I wrote with @villainofthisstory. She was my primary Regina and longest standing rp partner (and still a friend to this day).

To pick out an individual thread to read from start to finish, you should look into the tags on the post, there should be some formatting along the lines of ( thread | name of thread here ). Click on that, then, if you're on a web browser, go up to the address bar and add /chrono to the end. That will take you to the earliest post in that thread and you can read them in order from start to whatever the final post was. I admit, some threads never really finished.

If you're looking for headcanons or character analysis, here's the urls you want:

sxmethingbreakingarchive.tumblr.com/tagged/%28%20headcanoning%20%29

sxmethingbreaking-a.tumblr.com/tagged/%28+how+it+feels+to+be+the+miller’s+daughter+%7C+headcanons+%29

sxmethingbreaking.tumblr.com/tagged/(%20how%20it%20feels%20to%20be%20the%20miller's%20daughter%3B%20headcanons%20)

Finally, I really do not recommend trying to navigate any of this on the mobile app, it's too difficult and cumbersome and frequently just doesn't work right. Use your browser.

[ahsterism-a]

nobody: 

me logging on for the first time in over ten days: damn i kinda wanna add both luz AND amity from the owl hou-

[captainkurosolaire]

~ Mass Update ~

Mainly going into future plans and intents alongside ideas below cut.

Ton's of things I've in store this will prove difficult to vent it all out. But here we go... First off rehashing and appropriately learning to tag and organize things better on my blog. Each category will have their own corresponding content, I seek to bring or share. [Tales of Goldbrand] -- I intend this to carry a Compendium of all my writes soon that'll have everything neatly in-order including a glossary, so it'll have highlights of stories that even matter or the best stuff. I've written here for a very, long time, there's been many shifts. I want to make it more accessible. While coloring what matters for people who want to learn Captain or his Crew with less chapters. While also giving choice to find it all easily. This is essentially a step-above master-lists. I'll be doing that after the Saga I have going on, right now is done. [Captain] -- Will provide you strictly with Captain screenshots, gifs, photo-sets. This is still his blog despite the Crew thing's will sort of make this a scuffed Multi-Muse blog. I've few more things to edit and tag fix to get all his stuff though. [The Wild Crew] -- Afterwards this story is done Immortal Age Saga, It's something that I mainly wrote as a passion project within three days to get my warm-up process fixed. It's to allow me to get a feel for all his Crewmates and casts, in combat, in-general, to feel their presences. While also giving a bit of their backstories. At any point, I can go back and polish or tweak things in. They're NPC's but... not entirely. All will have their own 'Dreams' and their own 'Disapproval's' they have their own missions even. These things will factor eventually, they might set seeds, to betray or disagree with something, but that's all angst and more stories to be created, but overall, they'll probably always be Crew, eventually. -- I plan on making character-profile sheets of them and putting them in this Tab, it'll have their screenshots, their likes/dislikes. Some RP partners or people can also be shipped with them, but they'll all be monogamous and originally start off probably Pan. This allows them to figure out what they like on their own stories. I've always been someone who likes organic-flow. Although this one story contain all 16 characters or more, the rest will probably be shortened to a Squad of 4 and dispersed when on adventuring missions. Until I do a War Arc, that's my main goal to build too. [Roster] -- Will contain this Crew in just screen-sets dedicated to them, I'll probably randomly produce those. I've PC players among this Crew too. I may not be done either adding more, but this Crew is mainly built around Quality. Most pirate crew's mainly, have hundreds, thousands. Even Fleets. This Crew has personalities, monsters, people who are living life's that exist with piracy. He's an particular leader that had PC players the same way, he's had split-personality serial killers aboard, tribal chieftains, succubus, all sorts of various people once on a Crew. It's often an outcast style, pirates default are chaotic in nature, so this really isn't any different, it's a Fantasy version of it. There's humanization characters aboard too though, so this cast is really decked, everything and person is vital, they matter because they remind or covet something that others can draw upon. If ever played (Three Houses or Mass Effect / Dragon Age Origins) A lot of things like that are relatable too this structure and format. Which, Is something I want to be able to give when RPing. I want a genuine feel of this new world someone else's muse will be the main-character too. Depending on what's interacting everything they'll be scale appropriately to follow the genre they're in and environment even. [Aesthetics] -- Already explainable what you'll find here. [Asks] -- Same thing. [Prompts] -- Trivial things I was tagged too, I plan on compiling later. [Writing] -- Another alternatively to randomly go-down and it works right now. [Logs] -- Will have more individualistic master-lists and posts there, my poems from Sheik Sphere the Bard, etc.

Things of that nature, I'll probably add still. It's where a lot of my creative writing is summed. [Gems of Hydaelyn] -- My main #tag for other characters and artists, creationist. Lot of amazing people easily to find their zones or follow them optionally if you like. Ton's I intend to support and bolster, be a lot less unspoken. I'm never the type who's been strictly inclusive. But I'll do that when I've time to even explore the dash, I'm always still planning ahead with things and projects. [CKS] My original character-sheet it's outdated on something's but not too terrible. I'll give him polishing someday, I swear? [21+F-List] -- Just purely degenerate stuff of Captain. I'm a pirate blog. I will represent that with openness and furthermore. I'm never projecting you some false-image. I started off a smut-writer by stripping that, I no-longer represent the same aura and identity. But those are strictly his stuff and kinks, I'm effective in executing them but they're not all relatable to me OOC. This blog will always be 18+ containing crude or dark material sometimes, romantic things, this Captain is blunt, will literally put his cock on the table in conversations. Swearing and being censored would be too uncommon and displace most of him, but there's more about him then all this. [Other] -- I pay homage to a lot of characters, I originally am a Concept Designer. Which mean's I make characters and ideas like my addiction. Bad characters / villains or other little things I like to share in designs, I'll put there. Some villains might get little photo-sets, even if they died. Just cause I like their design, or maybe I'll give them an AU, where they won. When I've wrapped up things. [Collabs + Ships] -- Is a new project idea. This isn't going to be something limited too romantic only ships. It'll contain, platonic, romantic, friendships, rivals, frenemies, family, PC Crew, all ships. I am desperately working on improving my gif, screenshot, posing game so I can supply 'Screen Stories' this is not only a way to RP that's accessible with even people who are upon time-crunches from work, It gives visual-representation. To impactful stories shared with others and establish bonds. That are all-valid and impactful matter. Lot of people take a lot of their characters attributes into them and are them dialed up, I work with that and bit more, differently. I'm disconnected from my characters and they'll get hurt and injured and killed by me, that's my duty as their Author to give them conflicts and struggles. I'm their major antagonist, but that doesn't mean at-all, it's always SET that way. The characters I like to make have their own life, they live in this setting and are abide by it, they're often nothing, nobodies, and by the interacting with others, they slowly gradually building, more... Through emotional impacts, they alter, these are REAL people by all their beliefs. Each person they come in-contact with are legitimate and treated like that too. They've always impacted or given them insights to grow, or represent more. Otherwise it'd be criminally disrespectful if I allowed any emotional I felt OOC be the grudge to something IC. Captain in-particular is set on defying me. I cannot have that. ...But I can't stop him. He's met and encountered so many people and lived so many scenarios based on the actions of others, he's giving a chance right now to actually do things a lot further than impossible. The more people he meets and encounters, experiences, the more I lose. These stories are emotionally interactive where everything is a factor and adds to the dice, where the other people are the one who get to roll the dice for him, not me. That's something I want to color in. People range in emotions, they have their down's, ups, their own wholesome-grounding people, spending time with your favorite people, there's nothing more cherishing than that, being in your own comfort-zone or 'safe-space' these are all treasures that we live under, today. Contrary if what people assume of me, I'm not another 'blogger' that's came

before, who's wanting to force a harem, then constantly is bewildered when that falls to pieces cause of selfishness or a lack of communication, or the skeletons they have in their closets and beliefs they hid behind and swindled fooled everyone. I'm not looking to be popular or anything really, I just create stories and want to share in those, and I want to also boost others included, upward with me, especially those who make me. There's no ego in anything I do, this is purely love. I've never cared about being replicated or duplicated, I've had stalkers, I've gone through more then anyone would imagine, I've been used OOC and abused, just for my writing and cold-harshly told, i'd never amount to anything other then that or vice-versa. --------------------------------------------------------------------- Passion. That's all I got and am anymore. --------------------------------------------------------------------- Passion is the hardest thing to keep. It's something that can be stolen, quite effortlessly. Few words of discouragement, a bad negative representation, a lack of confidence, or small amount of time, there's many thing's that can put that flame out. Once you lose it. The difficulty to reattain is hundred-times harder than climbing any mountain for real. I've watched the greatest creators crumble from under the pressure, from beaten down by others. I watched many of them do it to themselves because they put a grand vision of needing validation of another and once lost, felt uncompelling to press onward. But passion also can be given BACK and drawn. It can be shown and encourage others, with a soft-triggering, that pushes them. That motivates, that constantly sticks to it. There are many that fuel me. If I ever quit, I let them down, I spit in the faces of people who're better than me in every-way. Or people who've came and given me their precious Time. That have given their character's or dedication to the abundant stories and community-driven things I've done. There's ONLY things you can do, create, give and provide. It cannot ever come to life without YOU. This is a fact. ...I swear, If you let your creativity soar, you'll be amazed by the heights you get. Constantly polish and learn and hone the best you, challenge yourself day after painstaking day, to draw better improvement on something, no matter how trivial or unfamiliar you are. You'll find a confidence only you can give yourself. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Future Plans --------------------------------------------------------------------- For me, I've got so much more stories to give and also explore, I might be taking up soon some other artists and more skilled people from community and hire them for some of my future writes, to up my game or cause something thing's can't be done in-game cause no background carries it. I also got a lot of-set up things and more angst stuff I want to practice, plus I'm adamantly on that grind to produce screen-sets with the intent's to some sort of improving daily. Additionally more people I'll be reaching out too soon for these collab's ideas and things. I look forward to shaking your hands, giving some hugs, show you my respect and admiration, then creating some enchanting stories and giving plots light. Feel free to reach out to me, I get scattered-brain but I'm working on getting better about it. Eventually will get to you though, my goals, if uninterested just say so when I poke, no bites, unless you kinky. Anyways, cheers hearties.

[return-of-a-space-cowboy]

For the Fairy tale au what about yandere prince!giorno with cinderella!reader? Giorno could convince everyone he's rescuing them from their life. Or you could do yandere prince giorno with sleeping beauty reader, where reader doesn't wake up after being kissed, instead waking up in the palace chained up. Naturally if you don't like this request feel free to ignore it, or if you want to use other characters that's fine too. I hope you feel better soon! Your mental health is important!

Thanks for your support anyway here it is.

Prince charming

(yandere Giorno Giovanna X Female Reader)

You were always a happy and humble girl. You always looked towards the bright side of any situation, even after all the hardships you had faced. To you every day was a new beginning

You let out a sigh as you wiped the sweat off your forehead and marveled at the marble floor that you had spent hours cleaning only for it so all be ruined when you stepmother and stepsisters walked all over it with their dirty shoes.

"I can't wait for the ball, to meet the prince would be a dream" Abigail mused as she twirled in her beautiful dress.

"Oh just imagine it, the sweet music that would play as you looked into his saphire eyes" Teresa wooed as she followed her sister.

"What's happening?" You asked them and they gave you a look of disgust.

"None of your business cinderface!" They spat.

"Oh dear girls don't be so harsh on her, we should at least give her a chance" your step mother spoke in such a sweet voice.

"What?!" The twins gasped in horror, none of you had ever heard her speak so nicely to you.

"She can come... But only if she cleans through the whole mansion... And manages to get herself a suitable dress before Friday afternoon" she said and your stepsisters cracked up while you felt you stomach twist, you only had three days.

🐞🐞🐞

You watched your step relatives from the attic window that you had just cleaned. Today your sisters had planned to get their dresses and of course you weren't included in such affairs, you never were and you didn't mind it. You were just content with the few little things around you.

Even if you were able to go to the ball. The prince wouldn't spare a moment for a housemaid like you but still some sort of urge to see the prince in person was there, maybe you just wanted to see the male in which your step sisters gushed over.

You were soon brought out of your thoughts by a sudden thud. You wiped your head to the side to see that one of the many boxes  had falled off of one of the shelves. You walked to it and flipped it over to put the fabric back inside only to find it was a dress with a large sum of money folded in it as well as an envelope with your name.

You opened it to see the old letter, the paper yellowed with age.

To my dear (Y/n)

This is my present to you on your eighteenth birthday.

I wish you the most luck my blessed child and I wish I could have watched you grow up to be the beautiful woman you are today but alas while I write this letter to you my body grows weak and my memories slowly fade.

I love you and even thou I am no longer alive my soul still watches over you.

From your loving mother

Your eyes began to tear up as you finished the letter. You missed your parents. They use to shower you with their love and attention. This seemed like a sign that you mother was watching over you. The dress itself was a bit old and plain but with the money you could buy some stuff to make alterations.

You quickly finished cleaning up the attic before putting the dress on a mannequin and placing it in your room before grabbing the money and leaving the house to go to the nearby town and buying anything you thought would look nice to add to the dress.

Once you got home you quickly finished up the rest of the duties with a whole day to spare.

🐞🐞🐞

The day of the ball arrived and you grew ever so excited for the night to come. You helped your step sisters get into their gowns, of course they had to make a huge fuss about how you weren't doing something right but it didn't bother you in the slightest.

"So (Y/n) did you manage to get yourself a dress?" Teresa snickered.

"Yes I did actually" you replied which caused her to nearly choke on air.

"Really now (Y/n)... Care to show us?" Your step mother asked in a cynical tone.

"Of course" you replied before going to your room and changed into it before coming back in to show them.

"Where did you get that from?" Abigail asked in a snarky tone.

"In the attic I found a box with this dress in it along with some money, so I used it to make a few alterations" you explained.

"So you stole from me?" Your step mother hissed.

"No I'd never do such a thing, in the box was a letter from my mother... It was supposed to be my eighteenth birthday present" you explained as she stormed towards you.

"Lies! After all I've done for you!" She screamed as she ripped the sleeve of your dress.

"You're nothing but a disrespectful brat!" She said as she tackled you to the ground and began to tear your dress to shreds.

"You are nothing but a thief!" She  roared as she got up before fixing up your hair.

"Abigail, Teresa. We will be leaving to the ball now" she sighed.

"And as for you (Y/n)... You will be punished for what you have done when we return" she hissed as she along with her daughters left the room as they made their way to the carriage waiting for them, leaving you as a teary mess on the floor.

You cried and cried, uncertain as to why you'd be accuse of such a thing. Until a bright light emitted from the room. When you looked up you saw an orb of light like a giant star.

"Dry your tears my dear...you have done no wrong" a ghostly voice said.

"What are you?" You asked only for the voice to let out a light chuckle.

"I promised you my soul would watch over your my child" they replied.

"Mother?" You asked.

"Yes it's me dear, now I wish to help you"

"But how?" You asked.

"Come to the garden, then I'll tell you what I need" she replied before floating out the room.

You stood up and began to follow the orb of light though the house until you entered the garden.

"Now my dear. I need you to find me a pumpkin, a frog and four mice" she explained. You did have doubt in catching the animals she had requested but it seemed that they instantly came towards you.

"I see the animals can sense that you have a pure heart, they seem eager to help" your mother explained. You quickly ran to the vegetable garden and picked out the largest pumpkin. You struggled to carry it but you absolutely refused to drop it.

"I have everything mom, what now?" You asked before the pumpkin in your hand turned to solid gold causing you to drop it and it quickly grew til it was the size of a shed. Then it morphed into a carriage, the mice turned into horses and the frog turned into a stumpy little man. You nearly fell back in suprise but some invisible force caught you.

Your dress mended itself and turned into a beautiful white  gown, a pair of glass heels slipped onto your feet and a white mask appeared on your face.

"Now (Y/n) before you head to the ball you must understand two conditions, the spell will wear of at the stroke of midnight and if your mask is removed then the spell will also fade" she said before the stumpy man lead you to the carriage.

"Thank you mother" you said to the wisp before you hopped in.

🐞🐞🐞

You looked out the window as the carriage approached the castle that loomed in the distance. It was like a fairy tale, it was like you were in a fairy tale. The carriage eventually halted and a servant escorted you into the castle grounds where many chatted away.

"Wow your dress is so beautiful miss" a familiar voice said. You turned your head to see Teresa.

"Who made it?" Abigail asked, obviously the two didn't realise it was you.

"My mother made it" you replied and the two girls laughed.

"You just like our step sister" Teresa said.

"She does, but we know your not her... She couldn't get a dress like that" Abigail snickered before they walked of.

'That was a close call' you thought, maybe the mask was magic or maybe the two were just stupid but you thanked God they hadn't noticed.

You simply watched as men and women danced the night away, sitting by the sidelines until someone tapped your shoulder.

"What is a beautiful woman such as yourself standing around here, surely someone would ask you to dance with them" asked the male beside you who's hair was like strands of gold and eyes were like sapphires.

"This is my first time attending a ball" you explained to him.

"Really?" The male asked in suprise.

"Yes... I'm but a simple house maid" you explained.

"Then would you care to dance with me?" He asked.

"Oh, I haven't danced in years... I don't want to make you look like a fool Infront of everyone" you said.

"Who said we had to dance in the ball room" the male replied as he led you away from the crowd and up the winding stairs until you reached an atrium where various plants grew and flowers bloomed in every corner.

"I can teach you how to dance" the male said in a sweet voice as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Place your hands on my shoulders" he guided and you followed.

"Good, now when I step back you should step forward and vice versa"  he said and you tried to follow his but eventually stepped on his foot.

"Ow" he groaned.

"I'm sorry I didn't-"

"No you don't need to apologize, I know you didn't mean to... It's just part of the learning process" he chuckled before you tried again and in no time more you breezed through the complex moves. You both danced and danced until you saw your stepmother watching you from a distance, you were about to speak up until the male pressed his lips against yours and you quickly pushed him away.

"Senorita, what's the matter?" He asked.

"We only just met..." You muttered.

"But can't you feel our connection? When I first laid eyes on you I felt in, love at first sight" he explained.

"No... Such a thing only exists in fairytales" you responded.

"Well let it be our fairytale... You should stay with me, as my princess... You'll never have to go back to being a house maid" he said in such a sickeningly sweet tone as he tried to get you back in his hands, but you kept backing away.

"No... No!" You argued before making a run for it.

"Wait, please wait!" He called as he followed you.

"No I can't be with you! It isn't right for either of us" you yelled back as your ran down the stairs case, one of your glass slippers falling off in the process, you quickly tried to retrieve it but the prince grabbed your arm.

"Don't be like this" he cooed before trying to take your mask off but as he did it began to crack like china. You pushed away from him again and tried to run. You pushed through the crowd desperately and tried to reach the the exit but the guards quickly grabbed you.

"Let me go! I don't want this!" You screamed on the top of you lungs. All eyes were on you in astonishment as you were being dragged to the prince.

"Cara mia, please don't make a scene" the male said as you were pushed towards him however in that moment a miracle happened, a chandelier fell down between you and the Prince. You took your chance to run as the guards let go of you. You finally got through the door and ran to the carriage with not a care to the rubble that pierced your bare foot as the ring of the clock began to count down to the stroke of midnight. The carriage only got you so far until everything reverted to its original form but it was enough for you to get away from the castle.

🐞🐞🐞

You woke up the next morning and headed to the kitchen to cook breakfast only to find a stranger already preparing it.

"Who are you?" You asked the lady.

"I'm the new house maid" she replied.

"Wait since-" you were quickly silenced by your stepmother.

"We were never short on money... I was just so greedy that I didn't want to pay for a house maid" your stepmother said in a guilty tone.

"I'm so sorry for being so harsh on you for all these years... After seeing the way you charmed prince Giovanna I realised that I treated you so unfairly" he said as she stroked your hair, the mentioning of the prince.

"Please... Don't let anyone find out" you pleaded.

"I won't, but I don't understand why you wouldn't leave us after all the terrible things we did to you?" she said

"I was fine with living the life I had, I know that others may have it worse off... all I wanted to do that night was see a real ball, not attract the attention of a lovesick prince" you explained before she took you to the dinning room.

🐞🐞🐞

From there all seemed good, your step relatives treated you kindly and your step mother had plans for you all to move to a nicer mansion outside of the kingdom.

You had packed up the last of your belongings when someone had knocked on the door, naturally you opened it, your poor heart nearly exploded as you saw prince Giovanna at your doorstep along with two of his guards.

"Good morning" the male greeted as he held the glass slipper you lost.

"Go...good morning your majesty" you stuttered as you bowed Infront of him.

"You seem suprised, I'm sure you must of heard that every woman in the kingdom is obligated to try on the glass slipper" he said.

"No, no it's just that you caught us in the middle of packing but I'm sure my sister's will be down any minute" you explained as you tried to get your sisters but the prince grabbed your arm.

"Then why don't you try it on while we wait for them" he said in a stern tone as his hold on you grew tighter.

"I wasn't at the ball... I twisted my ankle" you lied.

"Then let me see" he asked. Bit your lip as you forcedly twisted your ankle, you tried your best to hide the pain before showing him your leg.

"See, it's twisted" you said causing the male to sigh.

"I see then" he said before looking up to see your sisters who were more then eager to try on the slipper, however you noticed the droplets of blood that  trailed behind them. Abigail had cut off her big toe and Teresa had cut off the back of her heel, both in an attempt to make up for their cruelty towards you for all these years.

They sat down. Abigail was the first to try on the slipper and it fit the the prince's delight but as the prince looked at the shoe on her foot more closely he saw the blood.

"Are you mocking me!" The male growled at her causing her to cower away. Then Teresa tried it on and it fit but one of the guards soon pointed out the blood that dripped from the back of the shoe which enraged the prince.

"You both think you can play with my heart! the girl that I desire did not try to impress me!" He hissed with a voice full of venom. You just hoped that that was the end of it and he would just leave but you quickly noticed one of the guards had vanished, how long had he been gone for?

Soon they had returned with the other glass slipper which made your blood freeze.

"Well then... It seems we have the other slipper, since your other foot is fine (Y/n) why don't you try it?" He asked.

"I'd rather not" you said before the two guards forced you to sit, holding you in place as the prince placed the shoe on your foot, a perfect fit.

"Why did you put me on a wild goose chase to find you?" He asked.

"Because I don't want to marry you, love at first sight in madness!" You explained.

"Well I think your just too modest for your own good, or maybe your family have a role in this" he explained as an evil gleam formed in your eye.

"You mentioned you were a housemaid if I remember correctly... But you are meant to be a noble in blood, am I correct?" He asked.

You gave the prince no response.

"Did your step relatives work you like a slave?" He asked again.

"No-"

"They treated you below them did they not?" He asked again as he cut off your previous answer. You gave him no response as you looked away from him.

"Your step sisters tried to rob you of a happily ever after" he said.

"They probably made you feel unworthy of love" he continued.

"Stop it! They had nothing to do with it!" You screamed.

"You're just a poor degraded mess... You don't know even know your true worth" he explained before he planted a kiss on your lips.

"Don't worry I'll have them pay for how they treated you"

"No!" You screamed.

"(Y/n) you just don't understand... I'm the prince charming that is rescuing you" he explained. Before he left. You knew that it wasn't the last of him but you never expected him to go to the lengths that he did.

The whole kingdom was told that your step relatives were abusive. That they treated you like a slave, that they beat you, they locked you in a basement and starved you. None of it was true but the whole kingdom believed it and eventually you were forced to marry prince Giorno.

In the night of your wedding he presented you his gift... To watch your step relatives dance on a floor of coals and barbwire as the townspeople heckled and howled, screaming words of hatred to those innocent women until they died.

[koorinohebi]

2!

Mun's RP Interview || Accepting

2. What drew you to rping this character?

Kiomi

- Well, Kiomi is an OC that I created back when I was relatively new to RPing. I had no idea what canon or OC characters were, and saw everything as me writing stories with another person. Kiomi was a test muse that I decided to play with someone who was pretty iffy about OCs, but end up enjoying Kiomi as a partner (she was a very willful young lackey back then). Eventually, I myself just fell in love RPing Kiomi, watching her develop through time, and change depending on the muses that she meet. I was drawn by her development, always wondering if she'll ever outgrow her insecurities and become the person that she's always wanted to be. Even now, I hope she'll find a way to be happy while doing what she can to struggle against the odds.

Her Naruto verse, which is her main, is rather sad as she doesn't give herself the chance to be happy. Believing that she doesn't deserve it, and seeing bonds with others as things that were too fragile to be kept. She's a coward who doesn't want to lose things. Which is why she's doing her very best not to make too many important bonds outside of work related things. That way when her expectations aren't meant and she's forced to be alone again, it wont hurt. She does have a few people who she considers important, and she'd die for them. But like, she has no desire to expand the list, and purposefully sabotages her own relationships at some point. It's very toxic.

Her Fate verse is a little different, in that she actually gets her second shot at relearning what's important (through her servants and a precious friend), realizing that because bonds and emotions are fragile, they're worth suffering for and protecting. This version of Kiomi is closer to what I originally envisioned for her, which I got to see, after RPing her as a master. The base personality is the same, however, emotionally she has more balls here; a little more expressive, a little more willing to be greedy to take what she doesn't want to lose again. She still struggles through it though, but like I'm here to continue watching her get through it.

And for that, I'll always be drawn to RPing Kiomi. I like seeing her struggle through the adversity and win.

Kiomi vc: You like to see me suffer. Period.

Mitsuhide

- Me RPing Mitsuhide was totally accidental. I was writing the "Burn" reply for an ask that Rachel sent in, and while I was composing the scenario, I suddenly ended up picking up Mitsu. The rest was history after that. I like Mitsuhide Akechi in general, not just in FGO, so when I started penning him, I want to see just how much I can do him justice, because I really enjoyed doing those drabbles with him included. Not to mention, I wanna see Mitsuhide grow from his struggles until we reach the point where he can finally just admit that he's wrong. Then again, I have three versions of him on this blog (I know. I have to update the bio section one day and add them in), which lets me switch up which point of his life he's in.

Takechi

- My guilty pleasure is finding things that piss Kiomi off, and see where her character takes a turn. I was originally just joking about picking up Takechi as a muse because of how infuriated Kiomi is whenever I finish reading anything about Izo. But then I watched Ryouma Den and I ended up kind of liking his character. There were many things about him that were tweaked and watered down... mainly the points why Kiomi hates him so much... which is why in my portrayal, I'm putting back the asshole in him. I'm not particularly fond of Hanpeita per se, but his obsession with Sonnou Joui is really fun, in my opinion. He's so passionate about it, and I do admire that.

[charliesworkshop]

Señorita - A Bucky Barnes smut

Song inspiration: Señorita - Shawn Mendes, Camila Cabello

Pairing: Bucky x OFC (there's no name but I don't feel comfortable enough with my writing to do proper reader inserts)

Warnings: basically smut without plot, swearing, unprotected sex

AN: How do you add a "read more" on your phone? Asking for... me. I'm dumb. My posts are usually short, and not NSFW. HELP~ I posted this on my laptop with the "keep reading" thingy and it worked until I edited the post on my phone. It's just like Tumblr doesn't want me to write here.

Also, yes, I know on the gif there is SNOW and the ff states it's HOT, but that's the best I could do.

Saying goodbye to coworkers she walked through the hot kitchen of the diner she worked in, and out of the back entrance, only for employees and delivered. She gladly welcomed fresh night air, cool breeze making her more aware of sweat on her skin. Wiping her forehead with the back of hand she looked around the dark back alley, as always, hoping he'll be waiting for her.

And tonight she wasn't disappointed.

"Hola señorita," he greeted her, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against, walking towards her.

"Hi," she smiled back at him, meeting him quickly half way, exhaustion of the hard day leaving her body as she inspected his face in search of new bruises and cuts. At the first glance he looked fine, and she felt her heart getting lighter, her smile got more relaxed.

It's been four days since she's last seen him, and with every passing night she was getting more worried, but now it was all irrelevant. He was here, safe, without any wounds, any signs his last 'mission' went sideways.

"I was worried, James." She cupped his face with both hands, making him look directly at her. She called him by his name only when she was very serious, or angry, or when she wanted him really badly. This time it was a mixture of all of the above. "You've been gone for four days, no text, not a single call..."

Yes, she was happy to see him, however, she didn't like that he let her worry for so long. She'd understand if he got in trouble and couldn't keep her posted, but apparently he just... forgot? Or maybe did it on purpose? How the fuck would she know...

A smug smile creeped upon his features when she huffed with annoyance. "What is so funny?"

"Did you miss me, señorita?" he asked teasingly, his arms wrapping around her, "Because I really fucking missed you."

"Why do you insist on calling me señorita?" she stammered, pressing her palms flat to his chest, hard muscles working beneath her fingers as his hands roamed her body, gliding down her sides, brushing over hips, grabbing her ass, pulling her closer to his hot body.

Yes, she was a bit angry he didn't call even once, but she couldn't be mad for long when it was so obvious she missed him as hell, her body quickly responding to his touch, her heart beating faster, face getting hotter.

"It fits you," his raspy voice warmed her ear, teeth grazing over her earlobe sent a shiver down her spine, making her shudder in his arms, soft moan escaping her parted lips.

"We shouldn't..." she whispered, breath pitching in her throat when he pressed her back against the wall, lifting her body from the ground, his hands securely gripping her thighs. "Someone can see us..."

"Tell me you don't want this and I'll stop," he crooned, leaving her really little to no choice when his lips trailed her jaw, peppering her skin with wet kisses, biting gently on her chin, catching her lips with his, muffling a whimper when he rolled his hips onto hers.

"Make it quick," she breathed out, her hands running up his chest, on the back of his neck to tug on his hair.

She didn't have to repeat herself, he groaned deeply, corners of his mouth lifting in a satisfied smile. He knew which of her buttons to push to get exactly what he wanted from her, and right now it was to completely immerse himself in her, in her intoxicating warmth and scent.

"Fuck, doll... I barely touched you and you're already dripping," he teased, pushing her panties aside, fingers brushing over her hot folds already covered in slick, wet enough for him to just slip his cock inside. She moaned impatiently, her hips bucking up in search for some friction. She could feel how hard he was, his cock straining against the fabric of his tac pants.

"Oh just fuck me already," she urged him, her heaving chest pressed against his, breath hot and shallow, warming his neck as she pressed her lips to his skin, sucking an angry red mark right above his collarbone.

"As you wish." Holding her with the metal hand, he slipped the other one between their bodies to free his cock, pushing the waistband of his pants just enough so they wouldn't restrict his moves. Gripping his arm with one hand, she pulled her dress up, wrapped her legs around his waist, only glancing at the end of the dark alleyway to make sure no one's watching. But even if there was someone watching, she didn't care as soon as he aligned his length with her entrance, spreading her folds, coating himself with her arousal. She moaned louder, pressing her lips to his neck, her hips rolling unvolounterly into his when he pushed past her entrance, rushing him to fill her entirely. To which he gladly obliged, bottoming out in one swift movement, low growl escaping his throat at the hot feeling of her tight cunt.

"Keep squeezin' me like that and it's really gonna be very quick," he grunted, free hand now resting at the back of her neck, fingers entwined in the loose hair there, his lips ghosting over hers. "Give me a sec... I need..." What he needed, wanted, was to fuck her brains out, make her scream his name, but if he was to last longer than a minute he needed to take it slow, at least at the beginning. And her rapid heartbeat against his chest, and the musky heavy scent of her arousal mixed with the taste of her lips, skin, sweet breath, wasn't helping. He wasn't moving, his cock buried deep in her welcoming warmth, but she was getting impatient.

"Less talking, more fucking, sarge," she cooed knowing well how this nickname worked him up, catching his lips with hers in a sloppy kiss, one hand slipping underneath his skintight shirt, fingers digging into his side, pulling him closer.

"Be careful, doll," he warned her, pressing his forehead against hers, inhaling sharply when she pushed her hips harder onto his, "I don't want to hurt you."

"Maybe I want you to hurt me," she mused in raspy voice, dragging her nails across his ribs, earning a quiet hiss from him, a slight push deeper into her itching pussy. Oh, she really wanted him to move, to bruise her skin, to mark her with his desire. And she knew he wanted the same thing, but as always he was hesitant, afraid of hurting her too much.

"Stop... sayin' things like this," his deep growl sent a shiver down her spine, spreading warmth across her entire body, her nails digging deeper into his sweaty skin.

He really tried to control himself, his thrusts slow, almost lazy, but every sound she made was driving him more and more crazy, to the point when he eventually pressed his palm to the wall, stabilizing himself as he snapped his hips harder, and she was done for.

Her head fell back, lips parted in ecstasy as his thick cock was hitting that sweet sweet spot inside her, bringing her closer to the edge, and he could feel that. Pressing her back harder against the wall, he hooked his arm underneath her knee, spreading her legs even more.

The hot coil in her stomach was tightening so fast her breath quickly became uneven, shallow, only gasps escaping her lips, fingers squeezing his arm so hard her knuckles turned white.

"Fuck, I'm gonna-" she stuttered, eyes shutting close when he licked a long stripe up her neck, teeth sinking into sensitive skin just below her ear.

"I know, baby" he murmured, "I know." He always liked to watch her come undone due to his fingers, lips, cock, but this time he was chasing his own release, his thrusts deep and fast, metal fingers gripping her ass hard enough to leave bruises.

Her pussy was squeezing him so so deliciously, his senses were almost overtaken by the sounds their wet skin made, lungs filling with her scent with every rapid breath, but he needed to make sure she comes first, as always.

And as if she was reading his mind, she reached between their bodies, nimble fingers pressing to her clit, rubbing fast circles to help herself, him, to tip her over the edge.

"Kiss me, please..." she begged breathlessly, half-lidded eyes meeting his, darkened with lust. He captured her lips with his in a sloppy kiss, one that quickly turns all teeth and tongues, his flesh hand grabbing the back of her neck, pulling her closer.

She didn't stop rubbing her clit, her arousal now dripping onto his cock, drenching his balls and pants, making his thrusts easier, the sounds wet and lewd. And that was exactly what she needed, mind blowing orgasm crashing through her body, cunt clenching around his length so hard his thrusts became erratic, frenzied.

Burying his cock deep inside her hot pussy, he coated her walls in his seed, letting her milk him dry, as she rode down from her high, her fingers pressed to her throbbing clit. His lips muffled her moans, and if he wasn't kissing her when she came probably everyone would hear how good he made her feel.

"I missed you, too, Buck," she whispered, resting her forehead on his, noses brushing against each other, heavy breaths mixing.

"Yeah, I figured it out," he chucked, his fingers loosening the grip on her ass, and she winced, already feeling the bruises forming. Her legs were sore, tired like after a long run, so she relaxed them, letting him hold her entire weight on his own.

"We should go, you know. We're really risking getting caught..."

A moment later he tucked himself into his pants, straightened his belt and shirt, watching her closely as she quickly made herself look presentable. She, on the other hand, was avoiding looking at him, slightly ashamed of herself, of what they just did.

Thank goodness she was wearing a longer dress today, his cum was dripping out of her, her thighs were wet and sticky, panties a damp mess.

Her cheeks were burning with shame, but she couldn't escape his gaze for eternity, especially that he was weirdly quiet, and that made her look at him.

"What?"

"Did I... Did I hurt you too much?" He was honestly concerned, his brows furrowed, worried wrinkle forming between them as he studied her face.

"That's what you're thinking about?" She quirked her eyebrows, smile spreading across her features. "No, you didn't. I'm fine, really," she reassured him, tucking wet from sweat strands of hair back behind her ears.

He didn't seem convinced, but he learned not to argue with her, only nodded slowly, running fingers through his hair.

"May I walk you home?" An innocent question.

"We live together, Buck," she laughed lightheartedly, her eyes sparkling with true joy when he smiled smugly.

"I know. I'm just trying to be a gentleman. And I like when you laugh..."

"I think you like it more when I moan your name," she teased, slipping her hand into his, interlacing her fingers with his metal ones, and to her surprise he didn't even flinch, making her smile grow wider. "Come on, you've been gone for four days, I need more than a quickie."

AN: So, yeah, my first time posting here. It took my five days to finish this, and I'm not even sure if I like it. I have a problem with finishing smutty parts, that's why it ends... badly. Also, it was entirely written on my phone, so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes.

There's no name in the fic so I'm tagging it as a reader insert, dunno, feedback would be nice, but if I may, please, be... kind. English isn't my first language, and I've never posted anything like that here, or anywhere to be honest.

[menatiera]

hey :D this is for the prompt ask, feel free to ignore though if it doesn't tickle your muses ^^ I wish you would write a fic where Tony, bucky and Steve from your 'just give me a reason verse' interact in a friendly, relaxed, healthy atmosphere? like, way down the line, in a happy universe where they are all older and alive? also I have read in the wiki that the most famous winteriron AU is tattoo artist bucky and florist Tony but never seen much of the sort (1/2)

                                                                                                                            (2/2) but I have never seen much of the sort which is honestly a shame if you ask me.   apart from that, I’m always up for healthy friendships and/or angsty pining xD   I hope at least some of that is interesting to you :D if not that’s totally fine though

So this is the first part of answering your ask! When I started to write, I completely forgot about the request for the JGMAR fic to be in the far future, so I set it up after The Best of You, I hope you don’t mind! Also it’s not exactly fluffy, but its main topic is giving comfort each other when it’s needed, so I hope you don’t mind. ^^ I’ll do the Winteriron fill as soon as I can, too! Thank you so much for the prompt, I had much fun! ^^

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15637137

Title: Unbreakable

Pairing: Stuckony (Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark)

Words: 3358

Rated: G

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply; (mention of flashbacks, dissociation and kidnapping - but nothing is described)

Summary: “He got used to it like one gets used to their own heartbeat, and it became the natural order of things: Bucky’s deep or Tony’s shallow breaths in his ears are part of the silence that engulfs him up here.“ 

Or: SHIELD puts Steve in a cabin in the woods alone. Luckily Tony and Bucky do their best to make it bearable.

“Turn around seven degrees to the left,” Bucky instructs from the earpiece. Steve obeys, making sure his body language remains relaxed as he does so like it’s entirely accidental that as a result, his drawing on the paper becomes invisible to the cameras.

It isn’t that hard. The sound of the steady breathing over the connection is calming, and probably the only thing that kept Steve sane today.

“Keep drawing,” Tony adds. Apparently, Steve stopped at some point. “We need at least a few minutes of new recording to feed to the system.”

Steve sighs and continues Peggy’s portrait, now at an advanced speed that the cameras can’t see the actual progress. He uses the photo from his compass as a reference, not because he needs it – thank you, eidetic memory –, but because the ones watching him don’t need more clues just how good his memory is.

Tony’s breathing pattern is different from Bucky’s. His is quicker, sharper; he always sounds a bit out of breath. Steve suspects it’s because of the ARC-reactor and the reduced lung capacity caused by it, but never had the guts to actually ask about it. He got used to it like one gets used to their own heartbeat, and it became the natural order of things: Bucky’s deep or Tony’s shallow breaths in his ears are part of the silence that engulfs him up here.

“Alright, done,” Tony announces. “It’s chatty time. How’re you doing, Cap?”

(keep reading under the cut)

“Already better.” Steve stretches his back and leans back in his chair, head tilted left like he could listen better that way. Usually, by now he’d be halfway to the loose floorboard where he hides his StarkPad, and read the newsfeed while talking, but he remains seated this time, focusing fully on the communicator instead. “Wish you could actually be here.”

“That would ruin the point of solitary confinement, you know,” Bucky answers dryly, which is his default nowadays, while at the same time Tony says:

“Do you need us there? You know I could fly there, no problem.”

Tony actually did it once, earning some outraged calls from SHIELD and probably Steve getting back to square zero thanks to this impulsive decision. Tony, being himself, probably counted on that, but also took into account the positive effect his little rebellion had on Steve. It added up to the mere fact that pissing SHIELD off was one of Tony’s favourite pastime activities even before he knew they were HYDRA, and it tripled after. In all honesty, the organization needed a good reminder from time to time just how much were they unable to control Iron Man anyway.

And Steve went for a week after the guerrilla action without flashbacks or lashing out.

“Not without me, not again!” Bucky growls, and Steve’s chest suddenly feels just as tight as it was when he was an asthmatic kid. Only this time it’s a good kinda tightness, filled with warmth.

“I appreciate the offer.” Steve smiles, no matter that his boyfriends – and how crazy it is to even think about them as such – can’t see it. “Just… remind me why am I doing this.”

“To earn SHIELD’s trust.” Bucky doesn’t hesitate to answer, but neither does Tony:

“To fool HYDRA.”

“If  that’s even possible.”

“You managed just fine,” Tony reminds Bucky. Again. Because everyone needs a reminder sometimes, and Steve knows that, and shouldn’t be ashamed for his turn when he’s the one who needs the reassurance. “You got away on your own, and now there’s the three of us, plus the whole team. They don’t have a chance, they won’t even know what hit them.”

“I’d prefer if they’d knew.” Steve closes his eyes and imagines his boyfriends as they talk.

He pictures Bucky’s long hair, the scruff on his face – new additions in this century, along with the profound exhaustion carved into his features somehow. But also there are the things Steve remembers clear as day from  before: the shape of Bucky’s nose and jawline, the affectionate way he sometimes looks at Tony or at Steve - like they are more important than anything in the world -, the mischievous grin when a good idea comes to his mind, the childlike excitement over new discoveries.

And then there’s Tony; brilliant, genius, gorgeous Tony who’s nothing like Howard once you get to know him. Steve in his fantasy traces his fingers through Tony’s goatee that suits him surprisingly well, he conjures up the brown chocolate of Tony’s eyes and the warm twilight of his hair, and his million different smiles.

Steve imagines himself between them as the banter continues in his ear, Bucky insisting on being careful with HYDRA, Tony throwing reassurances left and right, probably to hide his own insecurities. It feels strange to hear Bucky so concerned. Since Steve got this new version of his old friend back, Bucky was adamantly confident in his – in their – abilities any other time. But when it came to HYDRA, the fear they had taught him came with full force and made him insecure and hesitant.

Steve never hates his decades-long freeze-nap as much as he does in these moments. It never ceases to make him mad, and as always anger curls in his guts again, urging him to finally do something instead of sitting around and waiting and planning. No matter that he knows all too well how stupid it would be to break the doors and march into Pierce’s office and strangle him with his own tie, he wants to do that and so much more. But for the ‘so much more’ part to be fulfilled, he has to stay put for a little while.

To be fair, it took the whole team’s combined effort, including Clint, Natasha, Tony, and even Bucky, to stop him when he first learned about Pierce and HYDRA, not three months ago.

The waiting and the feelings of uselessness aren’t any easier now than they were back then.

And… this isn’t something he should be thinking about right now.

“Any news from Clint?” Steve asks, interrupting a debate whether he should eat peanut butter or strawberry jam next morning and which one is more American.

“He’s working.”

Steve can practically see Bucky’s shrug. The answer doesn’t give enough for his mind to drag itself away from upsetting tracks, though.

“No words from him yet, but he’d contact us if he’d need anything,” Tony adds.

“What about Natasha?”

“She’s keeping an eye on your babysitters, don’t worry.” That is the main reason Steve agreed to SHIELD’s request to come to this mountain cabin alone. ‘To clear his head and accommodate to the new circumstances,’ their reasoning said, but Steve didn’t need Bucky’s or Natasha’s snort to know bullshit when someone tried to sock him in the face with it. Of course, it isn’t for Steve’s own good.

They’re trying to break him, isolating him even more from everything he knows, and they’re studying him while doing so.

Luckily for Steve, he isn’t as alone as these morons think. Bucky and Tony make a great effort to keep him not only company, but provide entertainment as well. Well, the performative part is mostly on Tony, but Steve has a suspicion where some of his ideas came from.

And while Steve plays bait and lab rat, the others are using this as a chance for their investigations. Clint disappeared from the radar – got an extended vacation from SHIELD after he had been cleared by their shrinks, justified by the lingering psychological effects of mid-term mind control – and he’s currently using his not-so-legal past connections to learn more about HYDRA. While Natasha starts looking into everyone, including Captain America’s observers and she’s slowly wrapping up the thread,so they know who’s friend and who’s foe when they’re ready to attack.

Steve just wishes he could be more active and useful while they’re waiting for that time.

“Hey. Hey. Stevie!”

He shudders as Bucky uses the old nickname. “What?”

“You didn’t answer,” Tony says, concern audible in his voice, “for a few minutes.”

Oh shit.

“Two minutes and forty-seven seconds,” Bucky probably doesn’t exactly want him to hear the addition, given how quiet it is.

Steve sighs. He’s aware he started to lose time, but it’s hard to keep track of it despite him sticking with a strict daily routine. Sometimes things still just blur together now and again, even with the hidden communicator in his ear. “How much more time do we have?”

“Don’t fret over that now, Sweetcheeks, we have it under control,” Tony reassures him. “What do you need right now?”

Steve rubs the back of his neck. That’s the problem, sure. The only thing he can think of right now is out of the question. He wants  them , not just as voices in his ear but in the flesh, right next to him, right in his arms. His throat goes dry at the thought of going home and laying down in the ridiculously massive bed in Tony’s bedroom with the familiar Hogwarts House blankets, and being embraced by his boyfriends. He desires nothing more.

“Just…”

Gosh, he can’t and shouldn’t wish this. His job right now is to be up here, alone and as okay as he can, giving some false data about his endurance to HYDRA agents that are thinking about ways to break him. It’s a mission, it’s his part in their plan. Steve isn’t the type to abandon missions, no matter how meaningless or hard they seem at the time.

The silence stretches between them.

“You should come home,” Bucky says very quietly.

Steve’s laugh sounds like a sob.

“Right now I’m not even sure you’re real,” he admits through gritted teeth. Being weak, being vulnerable is the worst feeling, except that actually admitting these weaknesses are even worse. And even though he’s reasonably confident the surveillance in the house is off the chart momentarily, he can’t be entirely sure.

After all, Bucky fell, and Tony is so much out of his league, how could he be that damn lucky to have them? How could a fairy tale like this be real?

How can he tell if it isn’t just a wild imagination, a symptom of isolation? According to his insufficient knowledge on the subject, this all could be happening in his head. Well, that would be a more rational explanation to the Chitauri Invasion than that ‘a Norse God opened a portal to space above Manhattan with a glowing cube that fell into the ocean seventy years ago.’ And crazy wish-fulfillment is an easier explanation for his relationships than ‘homosexual polyamory is an acceptable lifestyle in the future.’

“Oh sweetheart,” Bucky says, indecipherable emotions in his voice. “Hey, uhm, okay. Listen that I’m here. You hear my breathing, and my voice, right? I’m—”

“Rubbish.” Tony has no patience for Bucky’s rambling. For a missed heartbeat, Steve’s sure this is the moment that will burst his mental bubble and leave him an absolute mess. Tony ignores Steve’s sharp breath in favor of continuing. “Your imagination is not nearly good enough to come up with something like me, Sleeping Beauty; therefore we’re real. I’m sorry, these are the cold-hearted facts. I’m unique. And if you really are doubting yourself, then I’ll explain the science behind my repulsor tech, which would probably result in you yawning your pretty blonde head off in boredom and being confused as hell because as much as you learned under my thoughtful guidance, it’s still way above your engineering paygrade.”

“Close your eyes, Stevie,” Bucky jumps in again, not letting Tony finish his monologue. Steve obeys the order without question, as he would do practically anything as long as Bucky calls him like that. “We’ll walk you through this little… experiment and all you have to do is to imagine as vividly as you can, okay?”

“I’ll try to keep it centenarian-appropriate,” Tony adds a little dryly, but then his voice brightens back to its usual level of cheerfulness, and Steve holds back a laugh. The term ‘centenarian-appropriate’ probably isn’t for his sake, but for Bucky’s, who still isn’t exactly comfortable with the physical intimacy beyond a certain point. “So, you’re in our bedroom, laying down on your back - because you still prefer sleeping on your back, right? Good. Imagine it with all your senses – the silk sheet’s touch on your skin, the slight breeze of the AC from above, the smell of the apartment. It’s quiet at the moment. Do you want Jarvis to play some music? He can totally play music anytime—”

Steve, eyes still closed, smiles. “No, it’s okay,” he answers the rhetorical question. “Where are you though?”

“I was gonna get there! At your age you should really be more patient,” Tony huffs. “So I enter the room with James, and we’re chatting about something and laughing—”

“You’re laughing and chatting,” Bucky interrupts. “And I’m listening because I have no other choice. Let’s be realistic.”

“You are no fun, but okay. So we enter, and we see you on the bed draped over like a starfish and— heeey, my ear! You can’t blame me for—”

Steve would die if he could witness the scene in its entirety. He has a suspicion Bucky’s disciplining methods are just as unusual as most of everything that he does, and it’s probably hilarious.

“This is an imaginative exercise for Steve, Tony, try to keep serious!” Bucky scolds.

“What, it’s better if I say he’s tucked away securely in the blankets? Ouch, not  fair, my ribs!”

“We enter and Tony lays down next to you on one side, and I’m on the other,” Bucky takes the story into his own hands. “How do you want to arrange the two of us?”

Steve, who soundlessly laughed in the last minute at their bickering, doesn’t need to think twice. “Can I have you tucked under my arms and held close? Tony’s head on my chest and yours on my shoulder?”

“It’s your fantasy, sweetheart, you can have anything you want.”

Steve feels his ears turning pink by the suggestion. Bright red would probably be a more accurate description, but he refuses to acknowledge this tiny little fact. Is Bucky really flirting with him right now, or is he reading too much into it?

But he’s more relaxed already.

“We agreed on a realistic setting, so no tentacles this time, though,” Tony chirps in. It’s not the first time Steve suspects at least mild mind reading abilities on his side, because somehow he always knows when to intervene for steaming out tension or awkwardness. “That’s for a way naughtier fantasy anyway, I guess.”

By the sound of it, he got smacked on the head this time.

Steve absolutely agrees that it is well deserved.

“So we’re all set in the bed, all close. You can feel our heartbeat, and hear our breathing,” Tony continues. “You do, right? Remember, closed eyes and imagine it right now.”

Steve feels his muscles gone lax as stress bleeds out of him just by the image of this peaceful setting. “Yeah,” he murmurs.

“I can’t stay like this long, though, you know me, so I start to play with your hair in, like, ten seconds,” Tony adds. “In my defence, you have beautiful hair, and I like to comb my fingers through it, sue me.”

“I don’t have any problems with staying still and just enjoying the moment,” Bucky’s voice clearly tells he’s smiling. “I’ll just hold your hand.” After a heartbeat’s pause, he adds a bit hastily, “not restraining though.”

“I’ll do the talking, as usual. You always left that to me anyways. Not complaining, I totally love that you listen to me even when it seems like you don’t. Or that you actually tell me when I have to shut up. Most people are too afraid of losing the grace of the billionaire to shut me up, so I appreciate the ones who aren’t. Are you sure you don’t want some background music? How could you fossils even live before portable music? You are the real cryptids, not Bigfoot or Nessie.”

Steve gives up being composed and laughs out loud. “Believe it or not, we listened to our thoughts. I recommend it to you too sometimes.”

“Excuse me, Capsicle, I live off of my thoughts. Our boyfriend’s arm would be a piece of junk otherwise, not counting the fact that SHIELD found you with the help of Stark Tech, too.”

“And for that, I’m really grateful,” Steve admits in all honesty. He wanted to die after the first shock of being in the 21st century, but he wouldn’t barter this time and his place in it for anything by now.

“Don’t expect me to thank you, Mechanic, I’ve kidnapped you for that exact work!” Bucky grumbles again.

“Yeah yeah yeah, it’s always the kidnapping and stuff with you. You could at least, be a polite assassin!”

“I’m not polite,” Bucky fusses and switches the topic back. “How do you feel, Steve?”

“Better,” Steve says, and it’s absolutely true. “I can’t wait to go home and make this fantasy into reality, though.” Again, he feels himself blushing by the mere thought of it.

“As soon as possible. The moment you step your foot in here, you’ll be carried to the bedroom and we won’t let you go,” Bucky promises.

“We’ll lock the doors and tell Romanoff to bring snacks to us.”

“No way,” Steve recoils, taken aback. “I value my life, Tony.”

“Okay, then we’ll tell Barton. If he’s here at the time. He’ll eat half of it during delivery, but won’t mind the task. Or Bruce, if we can convince him to come out of his lab. He’s been playing down there like an excited kid since he’s here. I think he had science withdrawal while on the run and we’re experiencing the symptoms now.”

“Butterfingers will be on snack duty,” Bucky interrupts, and it results in a moment of silence.

“Well, sometimes you’re the clever one among us,” Tony has to admit.

“Since you don’t love me for my dashing looks, I have to be.” Bucky’s tone is drier than the desert.

“If he’s good-looking and you’re clever, what’s left for me?” Steve complains.

“You’re the entertainment,” Tony answers instantly.

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re the ‘stupidly brave and recklessly kind’ type,” Bucky adds, turning the joke into seriousness without effort. “And I’m the bad guy to remind everyone that we’re running out of time.”

Steve’s heart sinks, but he sighs and nods. “I guess we had more than usual anyway.”

“Just a little bit,” Tony admits, not elaborating what did he do to achieve this feat. “You should sit back like you were when we started and draw a bit so it won’t be suspicious, but they’re just as clueless as ever, I can promise.”

“Steve,” Bucky says, sudden urge in his voice, “if it takes much longer, I’ll break you out.”

“That’s not the plan, Buck.”

“Fuck the plan. If they do this to you for much longer, you can expect a visit from the Winter Soldier. I’ve already kidnapped one of my boyfriends. It’s only fair if I do so with the other one as well.”

Steve tries to swallow back the sudden lump in his throat and does his best not to let tears overflow. “Okay,” he takes a deep breath. “Okay. If it takes much longer, I’ll expect you.”

“Until then, hang on. We’re waiting for you here at home, Steve,” Tony says, and the warmth in his voice  is overwhelming.

“Radio silence for the next twelve hours,” Bucky announces, but instead of the abrupt muteness, Steve still hears his steady, easy breathing.

They never cut the comms completely, not since Steve’s first dissociation up here alone. One of his boyfriends are always at the end of the line, silent companion in the isolation, careful not to talk and startle him somehow out of their planned sessions, but there.

Steve curls back to his original position, pencil at hand and paper in front of him, just the right angle to cover the drawing.

“Home,” he whispers and smiles.

Yeah. He’d go home soon.