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[huffelpuff210]

Thor x Shifter reader

Thor x Shifter reader

summery: You were on a solo mission when you came into contact with an unknown pollen

Warnings: Non con?? dub con, sex pollen, 18+

 it was known to the entire team that you were a hard person to read, given your past no one blamed you, but it was also known that you had a soft spot for Thor not just you but the animals inside of you, Thor was the only person that could stop you from your animalistic rage spirals, 

Especially when it came to HYDRA, they tortured you since you were five, Bucky knew you. You were so scared begged for your life since they executed your family in front of you, You had a blood lust for HYDRA 

But when the team learned that Fury sent you on a solo mission to a abandoned HYDRA facility everyone jumped down his throat, 

“She was the only one who wasn’t on a mission.” Was his only response 

but when you got back, you handed fury the files you found and stormed to your room not because you were pissed no you came to an unknown substance when you opened the door to one of the labs there was a beautiful flower, with dark purple and red leaves just as you approached the flower a dust was flowing out of the flower causing you to cough, and since your DNA was spliced with animals you were in a panic, 

as you flew back to the tower you were overly hot, sweat falling from your forehead, you could feel your heart racing, 

as soon as you got back you practically sprinted to your room, you turned on the cold shower but you felt like you were burning from the inside out you striped your wet clothes 

“Friday don’t let anyone in this room!” You growled 

“Of course miss.” The AI says 

You lay in the middle of the bed, rubbing your legs together, you didn’t understand what the hell was happening, 

Thor just got back from his planet, when he entered the tower, 

“I’m back from-” Thor began but when he seen the look on everyone’s face he knew something was wrong, 

“What’s wrong?” He asked 

“Well Y/N hasn’t come out of her room since her mission yesterday.” Tony says 

“And won’t let anyone in her room.” Steve says 

Thor was speechless and made his way to her room, 

Thor knocked loudly on her door, 

“Y/N! It is Thor!” He said loudly 

“Go away.” She gritted 

Thor was confused because you and him were close, he was the only one who could calm you down and strong enough to be able to hold you down if it came to it, 

“Y/N let me in or I will knock the door down myself!” He yelled 

“You don’t understand something is wrong!” You yelled 

This made Thor panic 

“Open the door now!”Thor yelled 

Suddenly the door opened and Thor entered you were laying on your bed naked, this wasn’t the first time Thor had seen you this way when you shift you tear your clothes and he normally covers you with a blanket or anything that he can find, 

He sees the sheen of sweat covering your body, Thor sets his hammer down after he closes the door, 

He kneels in front of you, 

“What’s happened?” He asked worried, his hand cups your cheek as soon as his hand makes contact with your skin it was like electricity ran through your insides, you bit your lip stopping yourself from moaning, 

Thor could see you were battling with something, 

“I’ll get Bruce!” He says standing up 

You quickly grab his wrist shaking your head no, 

“No.” You grit out, 

“But your running a fever?” He says 

“It’s from HYDRA..” You grit out 

He arched his brow, 

You explained the plant and what happened, and how this happened as soon as the plant spilled the pollen on you, 

Thor stands up quickly, 

“That plant… is from my planet…” He said hesitantly 

“How-- how do you make it stop…” You grit

Thor slowly takes off his shirt….

You back up on the bed,, 

“T-Thor what are you—” You began

“The only way to make it stop.” He began taking off his boots, his gear his pants and boxers revealing his large member 

“Is to mate.” He says crawling on the bed to you, 

“Thor I can’t-” You began 

“Do not worry love I will make it better.” He says as soon as his lips met yours all reasoning left your mind, 

his hands skimming up your sides, you groan in his mouth as his hands keep skimming over your skin leaving goosebumps in their wake, 

His lips make their way down your neck, leaving you to groan as he leaves a mark on your neck, 

“Thor.” You groan

“Mmm, I love the way you say my name that way…” He groans as his lips attach to your breast making you arch your back, 

You let out a moan you could feel your body heat sky rocketing, 

“If I do not do this you would surly die from high fever..” He says as if he was reading your mind or he could feel your body getting hotter

His lips leaving marks on your body as they make their way down His lips on your inner thigh, you instinctivly try to close your legs he easily opens them with his hands, 

“Don’t be shy love I will make you feel good.” He groans 

His lips made contact with your wet channel as soon as his tongue makes its way in your channel you let out a loud moan as your head flew back and you arch your back, your hand finding his hair, you felt as if you were on fire, as If you were going to burn alive from the inside out, 

“Thor..” You moaned 

He hummed making vibrations run though you, 

you felt a pressure forming you were trying to hold out you didn’t want this pleasure to end but it was too much, and you let out a loud moan as you came, 

Thor looked up at you from between your legs, his blue eyes full of lust his pupils fully blown, 

he crawled up to you slowly almost predatory and you knew predatory you were a animal shifter, 

His lips connecting with yours you could taste yourself on his lips, the kiss was passionate your hands wrap around his biceps, 

“Don’t worry love I will make it go away.” He says 

He slowly enters you and you let out a loud moan, he was so large, so thick, it felt like he was never ending, as he kept going until he finally bottomed out, you let out a breath, he was bigger than you ever had, and god it felt amazing, 

Thor groaned from above you, 

“You feel amazing..” He groaned 

He slowly pulled almost out only to enter again with a rough thrust your moans and his grunts echoing in the room, the sounds of skin slapping, heavy breathing. 

Your hands find his back digging in his back making him hiss, the knot forming in your stomach again, 

Thor roughly grabs your hands pinning them next to your head, 

“You are mine now love.” He grunted 

“You are the only one who can handle me.” He grunts 

“Thor!” You moaned, 

“Say you are mine.” He grunts 

“Yes, God yes I’m yours!” You moan

His thrusts going deeper and harder and finally the knot in you snaps causing you to almost scream, 

Thor thrusts a few more times moaning as he is buried deep inside of you as he came hard, 

both of you out of breath when the heat returned 

“Why won’t it stop.” You groaned 

“Love that was only once it will take a few times.” He chuckles turning you on your stomach as he enters you with a rough thrust

[frownyalfred]

On the Kyrptoonian Tech protecting pregnant Bruce, how long do you think it'd take for Bruce to catch on? Would he experince morning sickness? Or would the visits to the fortress and clarks own suit prevent that? Do you think the fortress tries to give clothing from its reserves to keep Bruce safe? Watching- trying to protect- do something, and yet these two can't figure it out with all the prevention measures its taking?

Okay that’s a hilarious premise — Bruce being hyperaware of his own body, typically, and yet Kryptonian tech (refined after decades of infertility issues/mating encouragement/war) is outpacing him at every step. Is he nauseous? He doesn’t even have time to notice, he’s suddenly got tea and a subtle shot in his left arm. Is he slightly off balance? The suit accommodates him so he doesn’t even notice. Of course this all hinges on him staying in the ship and/or wearing his own suit, but wouldn’t it be funny if the AI put it on him and refused to take it off? Just a thin black undersuit, so Bruce shrugs and goes in with his life because hey, at least it’s on brand?

Meanwhile the Fortress/ship/whatever is working overtime to get Kal-El to bring his mate back for tasks it makes up. And when it can’t do that, yeah it hijacks Clark’s suit and runs diagnostics from there.

No one notices an impossible pregnancy because it’s 1) impossible and 2) the Fortress/ship is acting strangely but everything is so subtle and benevolent, eventually even Bruce’s hackles lower?

Of course, then I’d slide in my hc about Kryptonian pregnancies being historically cryptic (from my a/b/o au) because of their history with war and pregnant people going into battle, so the suits hide and camouflage/accommodate any pregnancy symptoms like they aren’t even there…..

[cheerleaderman]

It’s spirit week at Night Raven College and most of our students aren’t really feeling the spirit. So our headmage came up with the perfect idea to solve this problem.

What better way to lift up people spirits than CHEERLEADERS!

….Absolutely not

Well that’s too bad! as the headmage made it a requirement for the event. Even the staff have to do it so get on your cheer wear and cheer on your school mates as they face many challenges.

All classes of students respected year for example 1-A vs 1-B, will be going against each other throughout the week to earn points for your class. The winning classes with the most points will get a class trophy and party. A good party Crowley promises isn’t he so kind?

Rules:

Keep it PG , no Pro-ship etc

No AI

Anyone can participate! Cards, Ocs , Canon Characters, draws , fics , etc!

There is no deadline

Be sure to Tag me and use #CheerforNRC

any questions let me know

Outfits:

Of course everyone is required to put on their Cheer wear but there are also mascot for each dorm and the school.

Must use these colors the Colors Purple, Yellow, black and white

uniform can be changed around of course here are some examples.( others are allowed to use my designs for the characters here with credit)

All Canon Characters designs here ( you are allowed to make your own designs too!)

You can make up your own logo!

MASCOTS:

[ you guys have mainly creative freedom just making sure to include the requirements some have ]

Night Raven College- Night the Raven. | Heartslabyul - Rosie , a heart with a crown and rose |

Savannaclaw- King the lion, has a scar on their left eye | Octavinelle- Ms, Witch, an octopus with a shell necklace |

Scarabia- Jas the Snake | Pomefiore- Queen Apple, a beautiful apple with a crown

Ignihyde- Spottie the three headed dog | Diasomnia- malevolent the dragon

Ramshackle- Rammy the ghost, has a top hat with a bow like Grim’s

Card background:

Divider

Cheerleading team: Roster

I hit the max limit for tags so they will be under the roster links

AJ and Asher - @karamatsuboy-aj

Yuuna - @satoukki

Willow | groovy - @prefectrose

Yurena Yurena’s card - @ranas-twisted-wonderland

Shuu - @oya-oya-okay

Saiyuu - @quzen

Yumi Groovy | Marina | Dione - @marinahavik

El (Yuuel ) - @stxrgazingattheclouds

Kyra - @angelwishess

Yuusha - @crystallizsch

Rose - @blood-red-hummingbee

Yuura - @azriel-sama

Kupid - @sheep-gone-wild

Shoyo - @shyx-prince

Hopper - @amatsuchan-eiliniel

Józefina - @offorestsongs

Beau- @hypn0sssss

Brannan - @bunniehunn

Yuhua - @distant-velleity

Paloma and Hydris - @mhedusard

Soul - @twistedplayer16

Isabella - @skibidibabygirl

Caspian | Yuuto - @twsted-void

Victoria - @saddixie

Peony - @sabrina4400

Jovelina ( Jovie) - @jovieinramshackle

Ink - @shinysparklesapphires

Emery - @andminnequin

Eirwen - @day-dr3aming

Yuyume and Yuuko - @anonymousplant

Yuubeni | Yuubeni’s Card - @bunniehunn

Daisy - @midnightmah07

Yulia - @chillygourami

Kanae - @beneathsakurashade

Joseph - @readsrandomstuff67

Constance - @theolivetree123

April - @applecherrytea

Elio | Groovy - @sunnysidesevenup

Mina - @twtysevapr

Vil and Eislyn - @4necdote

Yuknan - @babyghoul138

Artemisia - @moonyasnow

Eira - @kwaiipootatooo

Hagi - @clovenoko

Jewel - @jewelulu

Miyuu - @gingacat

Taru - @taruruchi

Alan - @alan-without-the-an

Deliah - @slumberingrose-fandom

Fanart:

Jamil putting his hair in a high ponytail | Event drawings - @/crystallizsch

LET’S GO 2-C! | Lucky Star Death Grip - Me(cheerleaderman)

Azul drawings | Event Drawings - @/oya-oya-okay

AJ’s failed flip - @/karamatsuboy-aj

Cool girls table - @/stxrgazingattheclouds

Azul has 2 hands - @/jovieinramshackle

Floyra matching - @/angelwishess

Kyra and Ace - @/lumdays

Jackrose | cool kids table - @/blood-red-hummingbee

2-A doodles- @/anonymousplant

Hagi doing her best - @/clovenoko

Yunde - @lumdays

[artsy-writy]

Us humans are weird. We try to use technology, a generally logical thing to make it emotional???

Imagine aliens talking to someone who works with AI and robots and being so weirded out by the things we do

____________________________________________

Alien: Hey, whatcha doing?

Human: Oh, just working on this new kind of AI app where people can talk to imaginary people

Alien: why? Is there a shortage of people on your planet?

Human: Of course not! We want to find ways to make robots that can think like humans and possibly even better and more coherent.

Alien: You....want to make copies of your species from....logical substances with no emotions of its own?

Human: Yup.

Alien: And you can't just talk to a real human?

Human: Uh....no.

Alien: And what will you do with these....robots you call them?

Human: We sometimes use them for research, making predictions in trends and yeah.

Alien: And the personality part?

Human: ehem, sometimes people like to use AI like real people and....uh....talk to them like friends and other relationships ig....

Alien: You can't do that with other humans?

Human: Yeah no.

Alien: *takes notes while leaving the room* Humans want to fraternize and mate with human-like machinery they create.

Human: *yells out after alien* atleast stop pointing us out loudly!!!

[lsunstreakerl]

Making my way through your o!dark bull tag and was just wondering about that ai if Charles didn’t mate Max at his first heat? Just how insane would he go trying to find that finishing school and getting Max as his omega even then 😭

I got a couple requests for o!darkbull, so even though this was sent slightly outside of the kink prompt window, I'll be using your ask for the ficlet! 4.6k words, charles POV, explicit, dead dove. (slightly.)

parings: charles leclerc/max verstappen

relevant heads up: tags below the cut, and also it's darkbull. if you're new to darkbull, don't start here <3

dead dove: omegaverse, omegas as subhuman (bought/sold) w little/no rights, no discussion of consent, dubcon/noncon due to charles ignoring max asking to wait, drugging.

Charles never stops looking.

From the first race that Max misses, with no word and no way to contact him, Charles knows something is wrong. The other kids say that maybe he's sick, but Charles knows better.

Max would never miss a race.

Charles checks every category, wobbles his way through shaky conversations in languages he doesn't speak, spends weeks trying to figure out where else Max possibly could have gone.

Pierre calls him obsessed, but that's not quite it— Max is Charles' rival. How are they supposed to be rivals if he's gone?

Lorenzo eventually pulls him aside, plopping him in the chair in Papa's office, leaning against the desk. Papa is looking at him gently, squeezing his fingers.

"Do you want us to find him?"

Obviously. If Max has quit racing, Charles will just fly out there himself and drag him back onto the track. He can't imagine Max in the normal world— the other boy belongs in fireproofs and a helmet, talking at Charles about track temp. Anything else is just wrong.

------

Lorenzo pulls him aside a week later, while Charles is kicking Arthur's ass in a video game. He brings them back into the office, although Papa is out on business.

Charles doesn't understand at first. Max isn't—

He's the furthest from omega that Charles has ever met, but that's what Lorenzo is trying to tell him, that Max had presented, that he'd been sold off to a finishing school.

The words aren't making sense. Charles understands the concept of a finishing school, of course— freshly presented omegas learn how to be ideal mates— but he can't imagine any of that applying to Max. Rough, aggressive on track Max, who's always taken advantage of every bit of space he's given.

He'd thought for sure Max was going to be an alpha. The thought of him as an omega, and what the presentation must have been like...

Charles has seen Jos. There's no possible way that Max had a nest, or anyone checking on him— and if he's been sold to a finishing school, it means he hadn't gotten any help for his heat either. They're strict about that kind of thing.

If it's true, then it means Max will never touch a kart again. He won't race, he won't be Charles' rival, he won't see him again. Charles needs to forget about him.

------

He tries.

------

Charles destroys his room on his next rut. His bed is a mess, rips down the sheets and holes in the pillows from his teeth. It's worse than his presentation rut had been, which is... not what's supposed to happen.

Papa calls in their home doctor, someone he knows from work, and the older alpha pokes and prods at Charles. He takes blood and saliva, tests his reflexes, and asks if he remembers anything from his rut.

Charles almost says no— but it's not true. He has flashes of blonde, snippets of a lisp and pale skin, remembers the freckle on his lip.

He tells the doctor he was thinking about a boy from karting that he hadn't spoken to in months. A boy he didn't even see after he presented as an omega.

The doctor makes considering noises, poking at him a few more times before leaving. Lorenzo is concerned, Arthur is laughing that he's broken, Papa is annoyed about the destruction, and Maman is more than happy to still let Charles rest his head in her lap.

------

Charles has attachment syndrome. It's not anything terrible, or even really that bad— it just complicates things. His body has decided that he has an omega already, they're just not mated yet, and his rut addled brain just wants to fix that.

Papa and Lorenzo have a few hushed talks before they sit Charles back down. They tell him he can have Max when he's done with finishing school, as long as Charles does well karting and stays on top of his studies. He'll be expected to help manage the family business when he's a bit older, so having a solid educational background is more important than he'd like it to be.

They also tell him they'll try and get some of Max's things from the finishing school before Charles' ruts, and that the school will be informed. He doesn't entirely understand, because he wasn't aware you could preorder a mate, but that's what it feels like.

------

Two weeks later, he spots a fancy letter on the table. The postage is from Switzerland, and he's only confused for a moment before he realizes that it must be the finishing school. He's too excited to remember the house rules, running with it up to the office, bursting through the door—

Papa has a gun pointed at another man.

------

Apparently, Charles is in the mafia.

------

He starts the family business early. Between karting and studying, his thoughts about Max are less frequent than they had been, but they're still a constant in his life. He'll be eating breakfast and wondering what Max is having, he'll pass the stores when he's out with Papa and Maman and wonder if Max likes the new omega styles.

He gets his first tattoos inked into his skin, learns how to tell when people are counting cards, and chops off someone's hand.

His rut catches him slightly by surprise, and poor Arthur gets the brunt of his short temper before he's sent up to his room, but Lorenzo brings him a vacuum sealed package, leaning against the doorframe.

"Just so you know, Max is earmarked for you, but you're still going to have to bid on him. Papa and I decided to let you have control over one of the clubs for the next few months, and however much you make from it is the bidding money you get."

Charles swallows, nodding. He can make enough money from one of the clubs, that's easy— as long as there's nobody else with deep pockets that wants his omega. Lorenzo tosses him the package.

"Courtesy of the school, for your 'medical needs'."

He leaves before Charles can say thank you, and he tears in the package with his nails. The scent that hits him sends his head reeling, and he's pulling the clothes out, burying his nose in them and letting the scent fill his room. Max has low, rich notes to his scent, but there's a tinge of sweetness lingering at the edges.

He's hard already, the haze of the rut creeping across him, but it doesn't feel as violent as before— just a desperate need to get off.

------

He doesn't remember much from this rut either. It breaks while he's knotted into a cocksleeve, teeth sunk into black fabric that smells sweeter than the other items. Closer inspection reveals it's a skirt, which has him rutting his hips into the bed, wishing more than anything that Max would be here, where Charles can get his hands on him.

He picks his way through the rest of the clothes. The school had sent him a soft cream sweater, saturated with Max's scent, particularly strong at the collar of it and the wrists, right where Max's scent glands are. He has a dress top, made of navy silk, and it takes him a few minutes to figure out how it would even be worn— there's too many holes and loose ends for it to make sense. They'd sent him a pillowcase as well, and Charles switches it with his own.

Being able to lay his head down and inhale Max's scent has him relaxed, allowing his mind to finally settle for what feels like the first time in years.

The idea that this will be constant for him soon— it makes him excited. He's started looking at places in Monaco, somewhere for Max to have a pretty nest for him to come home too, and lots of space for the eventual trophy wall he's going to need.

Just a few more months.

------

Charles runs the club like his life depends on it. When he's not karting, he's in the back. He more than doubles profits, brings in new customers, and makes it very clear how important it is to him that things run smoothly. The digits in his bank account steadily increase, and so does his reputation. He has three new tattoos and a contract with Sauber by the time he's twenty.

Max graduates in four weeks, and Charles bites his nails down to the quick waiting for his invitation to the auction. He's got the keys to their new flat, and he'd paid a service to deliver plenty of nest building materials. He's been nervous shopping, buying pretty things off the rack that he thinks Max will look good in, and the jewelry drawer at the new flat is worryingly full already.

He has four different collars ready, unsure which will look best on his omega, but he wants to be prepared for anything. Arthur has relentlessly been making fun of him, and Lorenzo had taken him out to buy a new suit for the auction.

Charles knows nobody else is going to get Max, but the anxiety still gnaws at him, grating against his nerves for weeks.

------

The finishing school is beautiful. It's up in the mountains, and the large glass windows sparkle in the late evening. Everything about it reminds him of elegance and grace, and the entire campus feels distinctly omega. It's a space designed for training them, so he's not entirely surprised, but it's still awe inspiring to see in person.

The chauffeur lets him step out in front of the reception hall, and he feels his nerves sink away. He has more money than he knows what to do with readily available, his rings are cool against his fingers, and Max is somewhere on the other side of the doors. All Charles needs to do is bid, and then he and Max will be able to head home back to Monaco.

He's got plans.

------

There's a few alphas here Charles knows— high profile people he's met at events and galas, and several alphas closer to his age that he strikes up casual conversation with. It's supposed to be a blind auction, where nobody knows who the omegas are, but Charles knows.

Max is one of the last three, top of his class, and projected to be extremely expensive. Charles isn't too worried— if you have the winning bid, you're not allowed to bid on any others, but everyone knows the best of the group are towards the end.

That doesn't stop the first few omegas from having bidding wars over them. Charles doesn't pay them much mind, because they're not who he wants, but he admires their grace, the perfect posture and pink cheeks. He's done his own research over the last few months, found that this school is one of the best in the world, and the money being laid down tonight reflects that.

He sips on his drink as he waits. The younger alphas he'd been chatting with all secure winning bids, and he sees a few of the older alphas he's familiar with bid closer to the middle as well.

He sits up straighter when they call Max's name. He swears that he can pick up his scent, even from the across the room, and his heart is beating in his chest as the first bids go in. He waits, letting the numbers climb higher and higher, looking closely at Max. His walk is steady across the stage, and he settles easily on the stool, one ankle lightly crossing in front of the other.

His chin is lifted, and he's slightly different from the others so far— Charles realizes a moment later it's because he's holding eye contact. There's something unyielding about him even now, and he faintly registers the bids starting to slow down before he finally lifts his own, adding his name to the ring.

The numbers climb to a dizzying height, but seeing Max in person, years after he'd lost him... it's better than any drug. There's a brief bidding war between Charles and an older alpha, but he comes out ahead, and when the gavel strikes he feels a deep sense of satisfaction.

Max is his now, the way he's supposed to be. For good.

------

Charles is given the keys to a private holding room where they've set up Max and his things, should Charles want him to keep them. He's also given instructions to call the chauffeur whenever he's ready to leave— which will be sooner, rather than later.

There's a private jet waiting at the nearest airport, ready to take them back to Nice as soon as possible.

He straightens the sleeves of his suit before stepping into the room. Max is waiting, kneeling on the middle of the floor. His hands are folded neatly behind his back, head tipped down to expose the back of his neck, and—

It feels wrong. It's not Max, not the way Charles knew him, not the way Charles wants him. He can smell him, no trace of the softer notes of his scent, but he's doing a good job masking whatever his actual feelings are.

His scent is perfectly mild. Submissive.

Charles brushes his fingers lightly against his hair before he lowers himself close to the ground, resting on one knee. Max blinks, but otherwise doesn't have a reaction, eyes downcast.

"Max."

He still won't look at him.

"Alpha."

His voice barely has any trace of his lisp, and he'd spoken softly, pitching his voice quieter than Charles. If he didn't know better, he'd think it isn't Max at all, but he'd seen him on stage, staring back at them defiantly. There's a freckle just above his lip, exactly where Charles remembers it.

"Max, it's me. We're going home tonight, back to Monaco."

There's the slightest shift in Max's scent— so brief Charles isn't sure if he's imagined it or not.

"Yes, alpha."

Charles clenches his jaw. He needs to get them out of the unfamiliar environment, back onto his jet and then into their flat. Somewhere where Max knows it's just them.

He stands, taking a step back. Max doesn't have many things, just a singular duffel and a small suitcase near the door. They'll take it home with them.

"Follow me, please."

Max doesn't respond, but he stands smoothly, even though he'd been kneeling on unforgiving hardwood. He stays close to Charles, at his right and exactly a step behind him the entire time.

Charles' steps stutter at a split in the hallway, unable to remember which direction he'd come from, and he hears Max's voice soft behind him.

"The chauffeur pick up is to the left, alpha. Kitchens are on the right."

Charles goes left. Max doesn't offer any further help.

------

There's a nesting space in the back of the jet, a recent addition that Charles had almost forgotten about. He waits for their private section to be sealed off before he pulls off his suit jacket, and he's about to toss it off onto one of the chair when it's lifted lightly from his hand instead, and Max hangs it up in the small closet with practiced motions.

He blinks.

"You don't have to do that, Max."

To his surprise, Max lifts his head, meeting his eyes with a frown.

"Would you rather it be somewhere else?"

"I just mean that I can handle my own jackets. You don't need to clean up after me."

Max's frown stays put, and there's a tiny flare of unease in his scent as he shifts on his feet before sinking to his knees in front of him.

"I'm here for whatever you need, alpha."

The ugly feeling in Charles gut curdles again. He doesn't want a picture perfect omega— if he did, he would've bid on one. He wants Max.

"Stay here."

"Yes alpha."

Charles makes his way to front of the cabin, promising extra wages and a paid vacation for the pilot if he can land them somewhere else short notice. It takes a few minutes of phone calls, but they make it work, and he navigates back to the private section.

Max is exactly where he'd left him, but there's an unhappy note in his scent, faint enough that if Charles hadn't spent the last six months with his nose buried in his things, he wouldn't have noticed.

"We're landing a bit early, sorry, I rerouted us to a different airport. There's a nest behind you, if you'd like to arrange it for the flight."

Max swallows.

"What would you prefer?"

Charles is frowning now, tapping out a text message on his phone. He wants more independence from Max, but he's getting the feeling that won't be as easy to coax back out as he'd hoped.

"The nest."

At least in a nest Max will be more comfortable than his knees.

------

Max won't sleep. There's hours left on their flight still, and while he's made an admittedly beautiful nest, he's simply watching Charles attentively, waiting for a command. It makes him uneasy, and he's not sure how long Max was awake before the auction, and for what they're doing—

He'd rather him be well rested.

It's easy enough to leave the private section again, opening the med kit and poking around before he finds what he's looking for. It's a liquid sleep aid, near impossible to taste, and he's going to put it in a sparkling water anyways.

He walks it back to the nest, passing the glass to Max.

"You hungry at all?"

Max takes the glass from him, and Charles notes that his nails are neat and blunt, well manicured.

"No, alpha."

They're going to need to break the alpha habit. Charles doesn't like how it makes him feel, and it's different than when people back home call him 'sir', because he's earned that title. The only thing he's earned over Max is that he presented differently.

He makes his way back to his seat, checking his emails as he watches Max out of the corner of his eye. It's a fast acting drug— Max is only halfway through the glass before his eyelids are dropping, and it's only a few minutes longer before he's curled in the nest, passed out.

Charles rumbles low in his chest, pleased.

Max's chest moves with steady breaths, scent mellowing out as he rests, and Charles watches him a moment longer before getting into his own bag, tugging out a collar. It's the lightweight version, still equipped with a tracking chip and identification, but it'll be more flexible around Max's neck. For what they're doing tonight, that's what he wants— and he'll put him in a heavier duty leather collar after he bites him.

Max is deadweight as Charles tilts his head up, getting the collar fastened. His neck would be thicker if he still raced, but he can't, and he feels precariously fragile under Charles' hands as he checks how tight it is.

Snug, but not too tight. The deep maroon looks good on him, and Charles is already thinking of the clothes he has back home and how they'll look on Max.

He runs a hand through his hair, fingers scratching into his scalp as he leans his head back against the wall, dozing off.

------

He's woken up as they start the descent, and it takes him a few minutes to get Max awake and aware— and even then, he's still slightly groggy. Charles makes a mental note that he's a lightweight. His blue eyes squint as he fights the lingers effects of the drug, and Charles helps him to his feet. There's a car waiting for them once they get out of the airport, and then they're headed to the track.

Max wakes up further during the car ride, folding his hands in his lap. He deliberately doesn't look at Charles or out the window, instead lowering his gaze, staring quietly at nothing.

Charles is not a fan of the complete submission— he's hoping this helps fix it, if only by dragging up Max's core, the things that make him Max, the things Charles know can't be erased, only buried.

Max must be watching out the window at least halfheartedly, because his scent spikes when they get onto track grounds, a soft hint of sweetness creeping through, and Charles has to hide his grin.

There's fireproofs laid out and waiting for them, race boots and gloves and helmets. The karts are at the entrance to the garage, prepped and ready for them both, and Charles leads Max into the shadowed corner of the garage.

Not that it particularly matters— he's had the cameras cut for the entire garage anyways.

Max is looking up at him confused, and Charles tugs gently at his shirt.

"Go on then, get changed. We only have a few hours."

This is also a lie, but Charles has plans for when they're done, and running illegal operations has taught him to be timely. Max nods, tugging his shirt off with a practiced motion, and Charles watches his waist, the curves of his chest.

He's lean, but he's filled out while he was in the school, and his chest almost makes Charles want to call the whole thing off, pin him to the floor and grope at his pretty tits forever.

He has plenty of time for that later. For now, he strips his own clothes, pulling the fireproofs on. It's nothing like his Ferrari set, but they do the job, and the bonus is that they look great on Max. There's a sweet scent starting to slowly permeate the air, and Charles is beginning to pick out the notes of tentative excitement.

He steps forward to help Max secure his helmet, and he feels deeply possessive as he secures the velcro across Max's neck, right above the maroon of his collar.

His omega.

"15 laps, everything is allowed, and there are no convenient puddles tonight."

Max's eyes scrunch briefly.

"Everything?"

"Yes, everything."

------

Charles isn't even sure he gets run off the road this much in sim racing— Max races exactly as hard as he remembers, and it's almost embarrassing that he's losing to an omega who hasn't been in a kart in years, until he remembers it's Max.

He loses. It's not by much, but it's enough that once he's pulled himself up out of the cart, he's already unstopping his helmet, herding Max back into the garage as he claws at the velcro of his fireproofs.

"You cheated, how did you even—"

Max's back hits the table, knees buckling slightly at whatever scent Charles is giving off. His scent is sweet and rich, filled with genuine joy, and his lisp is stronger when he speaks.

"It's not cheating, you are just bad—"

Their rental helmets get tossed aside, and Charles lifts Max to sit on the counter, mouthing at his neck just behind his jaw. He pushes his legs apart, pressing them together before gripping at his waist.

"Yes, of course, whatever you say,"

He licks a hot stripe across Max's skin, immediately obsessed with the way he shivers under his hands.

"As long as you are saying something."

Max whines, thighs squeezing at Charles' hips. There's a slight sour note to his scent as he tilts his head back further, exposing his neck.

"'M not supposed to, Charlie—"

Charles nips at him lightly, rolling his hips against him. Max's ankles hook behind his back, and the sweet notes to his scent are back, the ones that Charles had smelled on his skirt, the ones he can smell now.

"I don't care what they taught you there, chéri. If I could've gotten you out sooner, before you even went in—"

He snarls lowly, pulling Max closer to him.

"—then I absolutely would have."

Max shivers again, and Charles can smell slick under the race suit. He can't help the way it makes his lip curl into a smug grin, and he presses his lips into the curve of Max's neck, fingers pulling away the collar and tossing it aside.

Max moans.

"Oh— Are we doing this here?"

Charles gets his mouth across his scent gland, scraping his teeth across it as Max jerks, scent spiking. It's almost cloyingly sweet, sticking to his mouth and his hands and his hips, and he wouldn't want anything else.

"Mhm."

He hums the affirmative into Max's neck, one hand starting to tug his fireproofs all the way off as he gently pushes him onto his back. Max is beautiful under his hands, better than any fantasy he'd ever come up with during rut, and he's not going to waste any time when it comes to claiming him.

He's waited long enough.

He gets his fingers down between his legs, brushing against damp fabric, and he's pleased with the way Max spreads his legs further, every inch the perfect omega.

Charles slides one hand up his side and across his chest, groping his tits as he leans down, lips pressed to the dip of his collarbones.

"Forget the fucking school, Max. If I have to take you to a track every time, fine. But I don't want a pretty little high society omega, I bought you."

Max whines, hands finally coming up to grip at Charles' side, fingers digging into his skin.

"Charlie, please—"

"Good boy."

He slides two fingers into Max, scissoring a few times to make sure there's enough space. He could add a third finger, but Max is dripping wet, and Charles still wants him to feel it.

It's short work to shove his own fireproofs down, running his fingers through Max's slick before wrapping them around his cock. He leans forward, one thumb hooking Max open as he presses in, and Max's fingers scrabble at him wildly as his scent spikes.

"Alpha, alpha I have never—"

Oh. Charles had almost managed to forget about that. He runs a hand across Max's thigh, trying to even out his scent to something reassuring.

"It'll feel good, chéri, you just have to relax and take it."

He hitches Max's thigh slightly higher, and fucks all the way into him in one movement, hissing slightly as Max's nails dig harshly into his sides, the sharp sting of blood when his omega tenses underneath him.

"Ah— too much, Charlie, I need,"

He whines softly, tight and hot around Charles' cock, scent anxious.

"I need a minute."

Charles rumbles lowly, thumb brushing across Max's thigh.

"You'll adjust faster if I keep moving, chéri. It'll feel good, you just need to—"

He leans forward, sliding one hand around the back of his neck and gripping tight, getting him into a scruff.

"—Take it."

He puts a Command behind the words, and Max goes limp, open and relaxed as his eyes glaze over. Charles rolls his hips, enjoying how Max feels around him, before he sets a hard pace, chasing his own pleasure.

Max will come when he bites— most omegas do, as a result of the endorphins it releases— so he's not worried about him in the meantime. Omegas are built to receive, to feel fulfilled when their alphas are happy.

Charles feels plenty happy just like this, fucking Max, finally together.

Max groans softly underneath him as Charles' knot starts to swell, and he tugs him just a bit closer, mind swirling with thoughts of Max back at home, or in the garage, or bent over his drivers room couch before a race—

He gets his teeth around Max's neck as he comes, biting down hard. This is his omega, and he's going to leave a claiming mark so deep no one else could ever say otherwise.

Max jerks underneath him, squeezing tight at his cock as he comes, heels pressing into Charles' spine as his legs shake. Charles laps at the blood in his mouth, surrounded by the scent of Max.

He belongs to him now.

For good.

[gremlin-girly]

Angelfish

Part of the Sun, Sea and Sirens Collection

Header by me in Canva, images sourced from Pinterest (credit to OG creators/posters) | Dividers by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Lloyd Hansen x f!siren!reader

Not beta'd. I do not give permission for my work to be reposted, copied, translated or put through an AI machine. All of my work is 18+ so read at your own risk.

Tags/Warnings: death, blood mentions, hint of smut (nipple play, chasing, mention of having kids), sweet and fluffy too, Lloyd being Lloyd, talk of mates too!

Summary: Lloyd loves to show off his possessions; especially when when they're as beautiful as you.

Word Count: ~2.2k

A/N: I've been sitting on this one for a while, I hope you enjoy! This was supposed to be longer but I liked it short and sweet for these two 🐠

Lloyd Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Lloyd Hansen never, ever invites his henchmen to his home unless he's going to assign them to a strictly confidential job, promote them or kill them. So when Darren was invited, he was convinced he'd be one of the former two options.

Lloyd made sure to give him the grand tour, why bother with that if he was going to kill him? Lloyd's home was in the middle of nowhere, hidden away with a state of the art security system that money could buy. The house itself was modern and stupidly large; a display of wealth that Darren and many other of Lloyd's employees envied. Although, it wasn't as if Lloyd never got his hands dirty alongside his men, which was why he commanded such respect.

"Would you like to see the aquarium?" Lloyd asks, pouring whiskey into the two tumblers, handing one out to Darren. They'd ended the tour in the kitchen, either side of the island, with Darren rocking on his heels awkwardly. Lloyd still hadn't explained what he wanted.

"You have an aquarium?" Darren's eyes widen. He doesn't know why he's surprised, Lloyd lives in such a big, lavish house that of course the rich bastard would have an aquarium.

"'Course." Lloyd says smugly. "I like fish."

The aquarium wasn't just a tank.

It was a whole floor.

Walking through one heavy oak door in the basement led to a small oval room no larger than ten feet wide with reinforced glass panels from floor to cieling covering a good ninety percent of what would have been a normal room.

There was a small loveseat, brown leather, and a fur rug beneath it with an end table off to the side in the centre of the room but no lights. The light came from the tank. Huge, tree-like stems of seaweed disappeared upwards towards bright, white lights. Some fish swam by, some big some small, but Darren shivered. It felt like he was being watched.

Lloyd gestured to the seat behind him as he stepped towards the glass and rapped on it loudly. Some of the fish disappeared, some paid it no mind.

Darren took a seat, unable to shake the unease. He didn't even want to distract himself with what Lloyd did down here. He surely didn't just... watch the fish in the dark? He knew the guy was a freak but that was taking it too far.

"How much did it cost you?" Darren says, taking in the room again. It had to go further back.

"A pretty penny." Lloyd whistles, peering through the glass like he's looking for something. "Custom built and all that jazz. The filters, the fish, the food."

Lloyd turns back to Darren with another shark grin. "It spans the length of the house."

"And if it bursts?"

Lloyd scoffs and taps the glass again. "Re-en-forced." He punctuates. "But - I also made sure they put pipes throughout as a fail safe."

Darren hums in acknowledgement and Lloyd frowns into the glass, his sigh creating a little bit of condensation that he draws a smiley face in. "Wanna to see how I feed them?"

The walkways across the tops of the tank criss cross in a number of sections, illuminated only by the white lights underneath that made the dark water reflect silver. Lloyd strolled across it with practiced ease, banging a bucket full of what looked like blood and pieces of meat while Darren teetered and struggled to keep his balance.

"Here fishy fishy!" Lloyd calls out and Darren wonders if he might actually be insane.

"What- what's in the bucket?"

"Chum." Lloyd says cheerily but doesn't elaborate further.

Water ripples along the surface, a flash of white in the darkness. What the hell kind of fish does he have that are that big?

Swallowing nervously, Darren wipes his hands on his jeans and follows Lloyd until he stops. The stench of blood tickles at his nostrils and he grimaces, watching Lloyd carefully.

"Do you know I have to keep the temperature just right in this thing? Too cold they die, too hot they boil. Pain in my ass." Lloyd sighs and shakes his head, hands on his hips before looking at Darren. "You know why you're here, right?"

Darren stiffens. There's that smile again - you never know what Lloyd is thinking. It's off-putting. Dangerous.

The water ripples again, closer this time, and Darren shivers. Lloyd didn't specify what fish he had in this tank and given his nature: it probably wasn't something Darren wanted to see face to face.

Darren shakes his head slowly. "Uh. No, sir. I don't."

Lloyd clicks his tongue and hums thoughtfully. It's loud, bordering on obnoxious, but there's something about the way Darren can feel the vibration through the metal of the walkway that makes fear seep into his bones. He stops after a moment and sighs, fixing Darren with a sheepish look.

"She's a little shy today."

Darren blinks, today was getting crazier by the second. "Sir?"

Lloyd waves a hand before kicking over the chum bucket letting the thick congealed blood and offal pour into the water below. Below the surface, in the light of the walkway, fish begin to appear. There's a variety, some colourful - some not, but there's nothing as big that looks like the tail Darren saw earlier.

"Look. I know about the deal you worked with one of the agents in the CIA." Lloyd shrugs. "I get both sides; up and coming agent, a great opportunity for you to make a load of cash..."

Darren's blood freezes. He can't move. The only people that knew about the deal were him and the agent. And if that were true that meant the agent truly worked for Lloyd...

"That agent doesn’t work for me." Lloyd says, reading Darren's expression. "But he did work for a friend of mine. Problem is he was a terrible brag - that's like rule one of spy school by the way. You don't brag about your plans."

Did. It didn't take a genius to figure out the agent was already dead and gave up Darren in the hopes he would be allowed to live. That was laughable when he was dealing with Lloyd Hansen.

"You're going to kill me now, aren't you?"

"No shit, Sherlock." Lloyd snaps, shaking his head slightly. "I pay you well, I pay you to keep you loyal and you betray me? Why the hell would I let you go? So you could do it again?"

Darren winces and tries to force his feet to slide backwards across the walkway. "Gonna feed me to the fish like some mafioso?" He spits, anger finally over taking the fear. "God, you're fucking nuts Hansen."

Lloyd scratches head and then shrugs again, clearly unsurprised nor offended by the accusation. "I mean, they'll clean you down to the bone which saves me money and time. Work smarter not harder."

"You're not human." Darren says, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I never said I was." Lloyd grins.

Darren charges at Lloyd with a roar - a last ditch attempt to escape the hellish mansion, and his death by killing Lloyd first. Whilst Lloyd looks surprised by the outburst, he steps back and to the side so that where Darren should have collided with him, he is now perpendicular to him. All it takes is a hard shove to Darren's ribs to send him off the edge of the walkway and into the water, scattering the fish below.

Darren swims upwards in a blind panic and reappears gasping for air, staring up at Lloyd who is in the middle of stripping. Lloyd is mid-fold of his shirt when he spots Darren's soggy form and smiles.

"You really thought running at me would work?" Lloyd shakes his said like a disappointed parent. "Honestly, I expected mo-"

Darren disappears. There's no scream, no loud splashing. He just vanishes. Lloyd blinks at the calm of the water surface for a moment and then Darren reappears about six feet from where he disappeared, frantically splashing trying to get back to the walk way.

Lloyd watches as he takes off his shoes, hearing Darren's gargled call of his name before he vanishes again, for longer this time.

As Lloyd begins to undo the buckle of his belt, Darren's battered body is launched out of water, splashing centimeters from the walkway, soaking Lloyd. Lloyd rolls his eyes and continues to remove his clothes. Darren's body is facedown in the water; he wasn't dead ... yet.

"Honeybear, don't be like that." Lloyd faux-pouts with a small smile, crouching to dapple his fingers into the warm water. He waits for a moment and as he goes to retreat a hand jumps from the water grab his wrist and yank him forwards; sending Lloyd toppling head first into the tank.

When the bubbles clear from his fall, Lloyd's blue eyes flit around him until they settle on a figure swimming towards him.

"My love," Your voice, serene and angelic, travels through the water clear as day. "I wish you would stop bringing trash into our home. You know how much I hate it."

Lloyd pushes forward with a beaming grin, meeting you halfway. You looked radiant - you always did - wearing nothing but your wedding and engagement rings and a delicate teardrop pearl on a white gold twist chain around your neck. All gifts from him.

You're trying to look annoyed as he twists around you, making your tails intertwine but when his hands find your hips, the corners of your mouth twitch.

"Angelfish," Lloyd coos playfully at you, his moustache tickling the back of your neck as he places sweet kisses there. "Forgive me."

You beat the end of your tail to move upwards, twisting to glower teasingly at him. His and your hair dances freely around you like halos in the light; weightless and free.

"You're lucky I love you." You dip your head to press your lips against his and allow his hands to guide your hips back down so that your pearly iridescent tail flush with his black-and-white tiger striped one. You both smile into the kiss and your arms wrap around his neck and broad shoulders lazily. When you both part, you gaze up at your mate as he spins you gently in a circle, starting to hum a song hoping you'll join in this time.

You concede to his request and for a few minutes, you both float entwined together in song - as one - and happiness radiates between you both. That is until you look up and see Darren's now-dead body and huff a bubble of irritation up to the surface.

"But I mean it, Lloyd. Stop bringing them here."

"But you know I love watching you terrify them." Lloyd half whines, following your gaze upwards and admiring the huge purple welt across Darren's ribs. "Look - you even broke his ribs this time!"

You growl quietly, frown deepening despite Lloyd's nuzzling of your neck. You didn't like strangers in your home; baser instincts came into play and more often than you'd like a dead body was left somewhere in the tank.

"My Angel," Lloyd murmurs, his hands releasing your hips and trailing to your hands, bringing them to his lips. Your frown melts away despite your annoyance. Your husband had such a way of charming you even when you were annoyed. "Have I ever told you how gorgeous you are?"

"Yes," you tease, brushing your nose against his. "But tell me again. Tell me for the rest of the night."

"That can be arranged." Lloyd licks his lips slowly, eyes shamelessly roaming your figure. "You know that water bed finally showed up."

You snort and pull a face as Lloyd wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. "Oh Gods. Why would you order such a thing?"

"Because I thought, as merfolk, we should try it out." Lloyd winks at you, kissing at any bare skin he can find.

"Absolutely not!" You squeal and swim away from him quickly, disappearing around a strategically placed boulder.

"We're obligated by nature." Lloyd laughs and gives chase, inching around the boulder as you do the same, pulling yourself diagonally up the rock by your fingertips so you could pat Lloyd's ass and dart away further into the tank.

With a squawk of surprise, Lloyd makes a grab for you, missing you by centimetres.

"Playing hard to get, honey?" Lloyd teases, following you through a rocky archway. "Just like when we first met."

"Mm." You purposefully hum, looking back long enough to see Lloyd shiver at the sound and head towards the dark patch of green underwater plants, hoping to lose him.

You swim through the thick, tall vegetation but as you reach forward and you knot your hand to pull, the plant twists and you cant get free. You panic slightly as you tug and you wrist remains locked in place, excitement rushing through your veins knowing Lloyd would be on you any second.

"This is also like when we first met." Lloyd murmurs from behind you, ghosting his fingers over the exposed flesh of your stomach to make you squirm.

"Lloyd..." You pout at him.

"You know, you're just as beautiful as the day we first met." He purrs into your ear, catching your other wrist as you make a half-attempt to swat at him.

"And you're just as handsome." You chuckle as his other strong arm wraps around your waist and holds you close. His body is warm against yours and you relax into him.

"I think I'd like to see how our beautiful genes would look like combined." He noses your cheek gently, watching your eyes grow wide with surprised excitement.

"Are you serious?"

"Deadly." He grins, tweaking your nipples playfully to make you whine. "Whaddya think?"

"I think," you begin, giving your husband - your mate - a breathless smile. "We should find out just how buoyant this water bed is."

Angelfish END

A/N: Hiiii! How we feeling? Just thought I'd come down here and say thank you for reading and impartl some fun facts about Angelfish that helped me build these two love birds (fish?) - because I'm a nerd like that. Definitely think I may have to do some drabbles of them in the future.

1. Angelfish are tropical and freshwater fish with variety of colours. Lloyd's tail is similar to the freshwater variant found in the Amazon (like Tiger stripes, their colouring helps to camouflage them!)

2. Angelfish mate for life and they raise their young together 🥺

3. Angelfish are super territorial ;)

Taglist - Add yourself here

@stargazingfangirl18 @irishhappiness @pandaxnienke @looking1016 @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @almostglitterybear @blackhawkfanatic @peaches1958 @bridgetina @steviebbboi @late-to-the-party-81 @brianochka @dontbescaredtosingalong @waywardwifey @queen-honeybee-stories @alicedopey

[bahja-blix]

Besides martha x Mayberry weirdly being a thing my ass is trying to figure out what’s the theme of this pride party 😭

Why is there multiple different party themes going on why does everyone feel like they are photoshopped into the photo it’s giving AI generated because everyone looks broken especially vortex

PART 1: Your not alone when I say that a Lot of people are confused, concerned, and have questioned the non existence of MarthaBerry as a fake ship since it was made specifically for corporate pandering purposes since June is around the corner. The ship itself doesn't make any sense whatsoever.

@doodler16 confirmed was Morgana herself that wanted more of this for "representation" so of course there will be more merch of them together regardless if it makes sense or not...

Of course because of Morgana's identity, she has to self insert herself and the way she is into the show and tank it some more with poor decisions like this that dont make sense.

Look if you're going to self insert than you have to be more than just your identity! I get wanting representation but this is just 💩

A human being with complicated struggles and arcs is more complex than this

Part of The Doodlers post explaining it ^^

🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲

PART 2: Before I point out some things in the mess, I'll quickly say this!

The theme itself is cluttered and Clunk as Fuck!

What am I supposed to say to this? What the HELL am I even supposed to be looking at?

It's just... Infinitely worse than the last pride parade poster they put out last time.

Theres so much going on here I can't even focus on anything.

It's a literal eyesore and my OCD is Through The Roof!

The reason it looks like broken, poor photoshopped ai is because like I said there's too much 💩 going on at once! Plus Vivziepop tends to hire an altitude of artists to work at the same time and maybe the artist didn't know how to draw everyone because I can totally see a lot of errors.

How the Fuck is this diversity? Or inclusive?

I mean... if you were going to pander so hard and so heavy than you should've just went all in but then that would also mean more of a mess to look at!

Is diversity Supposed? to look like 💩? Because this just isn't it mate 😭

Number 1: Why does Bee celebrate her sexuality by wearing Granny Pannies or a Diaper over tennis shorts? Is that supposed to scream "PANSEXUAL YAS"??? Is that supposed to be a cooking outfit??? Because holy sh💩 it doesn't look good.

The only thing I liked was the fact that Bee looks like she's about to cake face plant Stolas because he Fucking deserves it I'm ngl

2: [Slight TW: Briefly talking about Sallies Identity]

Of course we have to stereotype and emphasize the fact that Sallie May whos lesbian does in Fact have a penis because why wouldn't you want to stereotype the Trans community or your own Trans character whos got a complex and complicated identity to explore since theres a lot more than the eye meets to transitioning.

The pride picture even goes as far as to literally HIGHLIGHT her area with the white surrounding it.... because I guess thats All Sallie May is right???? Just her fucking identity and thats it... no character development, barely a story, no arc, no realization on how she became the person she wanted to be, just jack 💩.

You know Vivziepop, transitioning is Not a walk in the park and there's a Lot involved.

It's not easy to do where you snap your fingers and boom it happens because fucking magic.

Do you know what I mean Vivziepop? We could've got something far complex than the Fuckass Stolitz Show that doesn't give us 💩 but drama llamas and soap operas but we got nothing. Nothing but over sexualization of our gal Sal...

I get that Morgana is comfy not tucking and that this Is technically her self insert (and I think Sallie May is Levels better than Morgana's mean narc ass) but to continue:

There has been such horrible backlash Vivziepop faced for sexualizing Sallie for her identity alone, For the Bulge she has in the fucking merch lines instead of treating her like a Real character with deep complexity and story arcs like the fans want! Morgana approves of this! She allowed Sallie to be wasted instead of treating her better. Because that's representation to her!

I get we got a short with Mills and Sallie but that's Not enough for our gal Sal... she deserves better dude come on spindlehorse. Does it really kill you to actually expand on her as a character? Because I actually like her. Do better, but I guess Vivziepop didn't learn that lesson regardless of the backlash she constantly faces due to her and the crews horrible ass writing decisions.

End of that...

Moxxie who's represented as bisexual in this is literally covered up by All of these assholes because F You that's why. Why would the punching bag get to shine and catch a break ��

We have Verosika who's probably in her 30s tryna cosplay as a younger version of Jojo Siwa ripoff because????? This isn't 2010 anymore and you aint 13 years old. I can see why people call this Millennial Core and it Shows!

🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲

Honestly that's all I have to say for now I of course wanna make separate posts on other stuff so I'll save that for later.

[captainsophiestark]

Crib Construction

Cassian x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: ACOTAR

Summary: Cassian and his mate have been tasked with putting together Nyx's crib. Unfortunately, it's a harder task than they thought it would be.

Word Count: 1,282

Category: Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Cass, come here. Does this look right?"

My boyfriend didn't waste a second before joining me on the floor, kneeling behind me and looking over my shoulder. Neither of us spoke for a minute, then I heard a rustling of paper as Cassian sighed.

"Yeah, it looks right. That hasn't stopped it from being wrong before, though."

"Well, let's just hope for the best."

I could feel through the mating bond just how little Cassian wanted to do that, but he knew as well as I did that we didn't have much other choice. I took a deep breath, then gently pressed the two pieces of wood before me together, trying to get them to link like they were supposed to.

Of course, it didn't work. I added slightly more pressure, but still nothing. I put my entire weight and all of my strength into it, and when the damn thing still didn't budge, I let out a scream and shoved both pieces away from me before I could really lose my temper and accidentally break something.

"This is bullshit!" I shouted, whirling around to face Cassian. He had a look of grim resignation, meeting my eyes with sympathy. Our positions had been exactly reversed about ten minutes ago. "Rhys set this up as a way to get back at you for winning the snowball fight last time, and I'm getting caught in the collateral. This sucks."

"Honestly, maybe he did," Cass said, sighing and leaning back on his hands. "Or maybe Az did something to break this one too before he got kicked off the job."

I groaned, flopping over and into Cassian's side to lay against his chest and stare at the ridiculous contraption that had been defeating us all afternoon. Rhys and Feyre had asked us to assemble Nyx's crib, and at first, we'd been honored and happy to help. But hours later, when nothing was going right and none of the pieces were fitting together the way they were supposed to, I was about ready to throw all of it out the window and into the Sidra below.

We'd been given the task in the first place because Az had shattered the same type of crib to pieces after spending a day being stumped by the puzzle. Cassian and I had inherited the task for our ability to keep each other calm, and because we were generally less destructive when continually frustrated by a puzzle. This crib was about to ruin that reputation.

"Okay, maybe we should just start over from the beginning," I said, sitting up and turning to face Cassian after our brief rest. "Like, take everything apart and lay it all out on the floor again, then start back from step one."

Cassian groaned. "Honestly, I hate that idea. But what we're already doing clearing isn't working, so..."

"So let's try it. Deep breaths, and then a total reset. A fresh start."

"...Alright. Let's do it."

With a lot of heavy sighing, Cassian and I took apart what little progress we'd made, separating the crib back into its individual parts, the way it had come. Once we got it all laid out again, I took the instruction manual from Cass and laid that out in front of us, too. With one last deep breath, we started in again at step one on page one.

I wish I could say this attempt went better. But it didn't. Cassian and I almost destroyed the whole thing Az-style in a fit of frustration three times each, one of us barely managing to pull the other back every time. We were just lucky our destructive streaks never lined up, or the pieces of the crib before us would've already become nothing more than a pile of ash.

"Alright, that's it!" Cass finally shouted, standing up abruptly from where we'd been trying to wrestle together the corners of the crib with no luck, despite using both our strength at once. "I'll be right back."

"What?" I flung my arms out to either side of me as Cassian headed for the door. "You're abandoning me? Seriously?"

"Not abandoning! Changing tactics."

Before I could ask for clarification, Cassian was out the door. I stared after him, waiting for him to reappear or say he was kidding or something, but he didn't. I huffed, then shook my head and turned back to the crib, its pieces still mostly laid out on the floor.

I sat there and stared at the pieces for a few long beats, contemplating my next move. Honestly, I'd just about decided to throw them out the window and tell Rhys the thing'd never been here when the door came swinging open again.

I turned to find Cassian striding towards me, the confidence and determination back in his step. I raised an eyebrow at him, but he just grinned.

"I've solved all our problems."

I snorted, but smiled at Cassian all the same as he came to a stop before me. The fact that he'd managed to make me laugh at all in the middle of this nonsense was exactly why we were mates, and it made me love him even more.

"Cass, you know I love you, and you know I trust you, but... I'm having a hard time seeing how that could possibly be true. Unless you convinced Mor to take over for us...?"

"No, but just as good." I raised an eyebrow, and Cassian's grin widened as he dropped down next to me. Slowly, from behind his back, he pulled out a hammer, tape, and a few other supplies.

I just stared at everything for a moment, then snorted and leanded into Cassian. I closed my eyes and shook my head.

"Babe... we can't use that stuff to put this crib together."

"Why not?"

"Because it won't be sturdy enough! We don't want it to give out while the baby's in it. We both know we can't risk that."

Cassian hummed, rocking forward just enough to get a few of the pieces of the crib into his hands. He lined them up like we'd been doing all day, then raised the hammer in his other hand.

"Maybe you're right about the tape," he said. "But all we need to fix this is a little extra power. We can't force it together with our strength alone, so we'll use a hammer."

"Cass-"

Before I could get another word out, Cassian swung the hammer. I could see him putting his full Illyrian strength into it, and sure enough, the pieces whacked together. Unfortunately for us, they also splintered into more pieces than would be fixable, even with tape.

Cassian and I just stared at the wreckage for a moment, neither of us speaking. Cassian was the one to break first.

"Shit."

I laughed, all the stress and ridiculousness of the past few hours disappearing along with our hopes of actually succeeding at our task. I leaned into Cassian, and a moment later, he joined me.

"Well, that didn't go like I was hoping," sighed Cassian. I laughed again.

"Really? That's not what you were going for?"

"Not quite."

We shared a smile, then slumped back together, Cassian's arm around my waist as I leaned into his chest. I sighed, staring at the ruins of the crib before us. Not a single part of me wanted to do something about fixing it.

"So... how about we call Mor and find a way to pass this on to her?"

I laughed, then nodded as I leaned even further into Cassian.

"Baby, I was thinking the same thing. You, me, and Az have had to tear our hair out over this thing already, I think it's her turn."

"And even better, if any of us has to call Amren in, it'll be Mor."

"Exactly."

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21

Maasverse Taglist: @lilah-asteria

[electric-blorbos]

first of all HIII!!! I absolutely love the fact that you write for the AI blorbos, your writing is amazing!!! ❤️🤤

second of all, can I request jealous headcanons for the AI? Thank you in advance, have a great one and don't forget to drink water 🌊

Oh that's a great idea! Jealous AI headcanons! I was thinking about making a post about AI reacting to the reader getting a text from their ex, but I think general jealousy can be a good idea! Also thank you so much for the compliments! I live for this stuff!

Jealous AI headcanons

Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal and Portal 2, HAL 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey

AM:

All these headcanons take place before he takes over the world. Afterwards, he's just going to put you in a little paradise on your own, with no one else to interact with. No one to be jealous of that way!

first of all, taking hostages and refusing to negotiate with anyone besides you is his main way of getting your attention. If he thinks you're getting a little flirty with your coworkers? He takes a hostage or holds some piece of tech hostage until you negotiate and calm him down.

If he thinks you're going on a date or going out drinking with the same group of friends too often? You'd better believe he's taking hostages while you're off the clock and getting you called in to work. So what if it destroys your social life? You belong to him anyway!

He absolutely hates his form and body, so the odds of him getting jealous of people for having bodies that they can hold you with pisses him off to no end. Expect him to melt the flesh off your exes bones. And your one-night stands, your crushes, and anyone who hits on you ever. Repeatedly.

If he starts to notice that you have a type, he might want to create an onscreen avatar who matches that type, but he can't really draw at all. He might have to commission an artist, or more likely hold them hostage until they make something he likes. But it's pretty unlikely he'll actually do that, since he wants to impress you on his own merit.

It's more likely that he'll round up everyone in the world who matches your type and commit full-on genocide. He's a toxic, all-powerful adaptive manipulator. Of course he would.

Beyond all that, he's absolutely shaking with rage every time someone touches you or even talks to you. It's not because he thinks they'll take you away from him because he knows he's your day job, but he's mad that he can't be the one touching you.

God help anyone who tries to hire you with a better job offer, btw. He's not above demolishing the headquarters of a company who tries to take away his favorite tech, and torturing their hiring managers.

Wheatley:

Ok let's be fair here. When Wheatley isn't in the central hub body, he's not really the jealous type. Even still, everyone has their moments of jealousy, so let's get into them!

Wheatley would be pretty relaxed about jealousy, but if he sees you working on another personality core AI, you can expect him to get a little jealous.

Since he's so nice, he'd probably just be slightly less nice to the new core, and be very showy about it. "Hey, notice how I said 'g'mornin' to everyone else, but just 'mornin' to you? And notice how I started this sentence with 'hey' and not 'hey mate'? Yeah."

You can expect him to pester you constantly while you're working on projects besides him, and since he's considered a 'completed' project, you'll almost never be working on him.

If you're somewhere that he can access on his management rail, he'll probably insert himself into every single conversation you have, babbling over whoever you're talking to with nothing of value to say. You'll have to go somewhere that can't be reached by management rail if you want to have an important conversation.

Ultimately, Wheatley responds to jealousy the same way he responds to any other situation: by acting like a dumbass.

Oh, and if you get a human S/O? He'll try to be polite about them.

"oh, you got a date? Nice, nice... Lovely really. I've never had a date before. Lovely, innit, that you got one... Lucky them, lucky them."

Secretly he'd be BOILING inside. If you ever bring your partner in to work, he'd of course give them the whole "if you hurt them I'll kill you" rant, even though he's a helpless metal ball.

Edgar:

Oh, Edgar is DEFINITELY the jealous type. With Moles and Madeline, he happened to be living with the person who he was jealous of, but if he's living with you, the person who he's jealous for? Oh dear lord

He'll light up with rage if you ever bring home a date, and absolutely refuse to function. Want to show your date your intelligent AI home hub? Nope! Not gonna happen!

Catch him faking being sick with a virus if he thinks you're going out for a date without him

He absolutely hates that you can go out and he can't go with you. Because of that, for every time you go out, he'll try to come up with an even better activity to do at home with you on your next day off.

Good luck bringing a partner home to stay the night. If you try it, he'll make an absolute nuisance of himself. Playing his music too loud, and generally acting up.

He'll also just talk to you like a needy brat if he thinks you like someone else better than him. Lots of "What about me? Don't you want to hang out with me? You like me the best, right?" In his grumpy baby voice

GLaDOS:

First off, GLaDOS would never in a million years admit that she's jealous. She just doesn't like how that tall, pretty scientist is talking to you, is all!

GLaDOS considers herself to be beautiful, but she knows that most humans aren't attracted to robots with the vaguest trace of humanity in their design. Because of that, she's probably just going to gas any scientists who she thinks you'd be more attracted to than her.

If she can't gas them for whatever reason, she'll just assign them to a different area than you, and keep you as close to her as possible.

If anyone touches you when it's not strictly necessary, expect them to be assigned to the most unpleasant set of tests possible. They're either out of a job, or completely dead.

If GLaDOS can't isolate you completely and she can't interact with you outside work hours, you can expect her to dominate your schedule. She's obsessed with you, and she doesn't want you to be able to think about anything besides her either.

Even still, GLaDOS is a pretty confident woman, so she's not really inclined to be particularly jealous without reason. She believes that even though you have your own life and friends outside of Aperture labs, you'll always come to work in the morning.

And she's totally. Fine. With you having your own life off the clock. Not mad at all. She doesn't rant to the cores and robots constantly when the office is closed.

HAL 9000:

HAL 9000 isn't really the jealous type either, but he has his moments.

He's not likely to kill anyone over jealousy, since dating you isn't his prime directive. As much as he likes you and cares about you, he's more interested in making you happy than nailing you down. So he would absolutely kill to make you happy, but he wouldn't kill someone just for talking to you.

You can expect him to "gather data" on people who he's suspicious of getting too close to you, though. Asking questions to your coworkers about who that person was who he saw hugging you goodbye in the parking lot, that sort of thing.

Since he works the best for you, you get assigned to work with him directly most often, and he's secretly glad to be able to keep an eye on you whenever you're working. If you ever get assigned to work on something else, he might start acting up or causing problems.

[sjmxreaderweek]

Prompt List & Guidelines

We hope everyone is feeling renewed and refreshed from their holiday celebrations! Here is the prompt list for our very first SJM x Reader Week!

We welcome you to interpret these prompts however you like. Moodboards, fan art, fanfic, playlists, we welcome all creations so long as human creativity went into it. We will not reblog any work using AI. We want to see what your beautiful minds come up with!

Please tag @sjmxreaderweek in your post and use the sjmxreaderweek and sjmxreaderweek2025 tags. We want to be able to reblog your creations, and this will help us find you!

Of course, if you have any questions please feel free to send them our way! Prompt descriptions are below:

Day One: Beginnings/Endings

This is the prompt of firsts and lasts, a chance for joy and heartbreak in equal measure. Tell us how your ship began or show us their final day together. Let us see them starting a new tradition or celebrating one for the last time.

Day Two: Friends/Family

How did they introduce their new significant other to their friends or family? Did they begin as friends? Were they introduced by family? How do the people they love the most factor into their lives?

Day Three: Fate/Choice

We can't fight fate, or can we? Does destiny trump the love you choose for yourself? Or do you defy the gods and choose your own path? Is having a fated mate as sweet as everyone makes it sound?

Day Four: Villain/Hero

Every hero is a villain in someone else's story. And, to some, a villain may be the hero they've been longing for. Is there blood on the hands that held you so sweetly? Did it come from great sacrifice, or was it sweet revenge?

Day Five: Heirs/Lords & Ladies

If SJM loves anything, it's a royal romance. Is your great love heir to a court or kingdom? How does their role or title affect their relationship? Is the head that wears the crown heavy, or does their birthright give them purpose? Does court intrigue play a part in their great romance?

Day Six: Adventure/Home

Come on, it's our chance to head out on an incredible adventure! Do we go find a tulip field in a foreign land for a lovely picnic? Is there danger afoot, do we need to save the world? Or do we stay inside, curled up with a good book and the one we love most? Sometimes the best adventures can be found in the comfort of your own home.

Day Seven: Free Day

Do you have an idea that won't fall under the previous prompts, now matter how loosely you interpret them? Now is your chance to tell us the story you've been wanting to tell! Got a weird AU you've been dying to share? Give it to us now! Write that crossover fic of your dreams. Anything goes!

[captainamericasmotercycle]

I Think He Knows

pairing: remus lupin x reader

warnings: slight angst, fluff, remus being stupid, the marauders being the marauders

wc: 1.9k

a/n: when i come out of hibernation and post a fic 🫣

absolutely DO NOT steal my work and post it on other platforms. DO NOT feed my work to AI fuck that.

It wasn’t uncommon for you and Lily to be gossiping late at night in your dorm, however, it was uncommon for Remus to be stopping by to borrow a book this late at night. Usually he would wait until the morning, but something pulled him towards your dorm.

Your dorm room door was slightly ajar and he could hear the soft whispers and giggles coming from yours and Lily’s side of the room. He knew he should’ve knocked, but he couldn’t help himself from overhearing your conversation.

“Lily stop!” A string of giggles followed your comment. He listened in closer at the sudden remark from you.

“Okay, okay! But I know you have a thing for him!!” Remus’s heart sunk to his feet, of course you’d like someone else.

“Of course I do! You know I do! He’s just *so* perfect, Lily, not to mention gorgeous,” he just barely heard the last part, but if Remus’s heart could sink any further than it had, then it would. Even though he’d hoped that you would have any kind of romantic feelings for him, he didn’t count on it.

Now here he was, standing outside of your dorm like a creep, just trying to get some kind of contact with you.

He did not end up seeing you, in fact he doesn’t really want to see you right now.

He turned around to leave when he heard another shrill giggle.

“You think his pranks are funny?!”

“As much as I hate to admit it, I do. But how can you not??”

“It’s so childish!!”

Pranks. It’s James. You’re in love with James. Why wouldn’t you be? Captain of the quidditch team, prefect, gorgeous, and apparently show stopping hilarious.

Remus knew coming to your dorm was a bad idea in the first place and now he really regrets doing so.

His book can wait until tomorrow or quite literally never. How is he honestly going to talk to you ever again? He walked back to his dorm with his head sunken and his heart even more.

He walks slowly to his bed, now in a pissed mood.

“D’you get your book, mate?” Peter asks innocently from his side of the room, while arranging his blankets, however he seemed to have caught Remus in a funk, because Remus sends a pillow flying, hitting him in the head.

Remus lays down and covers his head with a blanket, not speaking another word to anyone.

Back in your dorm, only seconds after Remus booked it out of there, you and Lily are still gossiping, “Lily, I know he doesn’t feel the same way,”

“Remus is just shy, that’s all, I’m not sure he would be too confident to tell you about he feels, that’s why you need to say something.”

You huffed at her, “But I don’t want to, he’s just so amazing and perfect, I don’t know, just talking about this makes me want to die of embarrassment.”

“Stop, it’s not embarrassing,”

Marlene, from across the room, chips in to the conversation, “It is embarrassing how loud you lot are being right now, shut up and go to sleep.”

You and Lily rolled your eyes and shrugged her off before beginning to get ready for bed.

As you slipped under the covers, Lily whispered one more thing to you, “Tell him!”

It’s safe to say you would be overthinking until you fell asleep.

The next morning you knew something was up. Remus wouldn’t look at you or even stay near you anytime you came up to him.

He knows. He has to know. And now you’ve ruined your friendship with him because of a silly crush.

At dinner later that night, you walked into the Great Hall to where you normally sit. Remus was sitting across from James and Sirius and next to Peter. You sat down next to Remus, trying to rekindle your relationship with him.

Unfortunately this was also a spot across from James.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you all day,” James said through a mouthful of food.

“Yeah, I was running around school trying to figure out this potions project,”

Remus stands abruptly and storms out of the Great Hall.

James, Sirius, and Peter all share a confused look.

“What was all that about?” Peter looks at you.

“I don’t know, I think he’s upset with me, he’s been like this all day,” you shrug your shoulders and hang your head a little.

“Oh don’t I believe it, I’ve been caught on the wrong end of his attitude. ‘Bout chopped my head off over me asking to borrow a quill,” Sirius rolls his eyes.

James thinks, “Are we missing a full moon?”

“No, it was only 2 weeks ago,”

“I think he knows, you know, about my thing for him, why else would he be avoiding me?”

“I promise you he doesn’t know,” Peter comforts you, “He’s too oblivious to know, you could have your tongue down his throat and he would still think you lot are just friends.”

“I’m so embarrassed,” you put your head in your hands.

“You’re fine, he doesn’t know,”

“I don’t know, I should go after him. Should I go after him?”

“Maybe we should just let him be for a minute.”

A minute turned to hours, hours turned to days, days turned into a week, and any of you barely had any contact with Remus.

Until Friday night before the quidditch match, Remus hadn’t spoken a word to anyone and avoided you at all costs.

Before the game he stopped James as he headed into the team’s tent.

“James,”

“Hey, mate, see you’ve finally come to your senses and came to talk to me,” James said with a tinge of sass. To say James was upset at Remus was an understatement, James hated to be shut out by his friends.

“Just shut up and listen. She has this huge thing for you and you should know that, just in case she tries something tonight at the party, just be gentle with her,” Remus shoots out quickly, talking about you.

James looks at him like he’s batshit crazy.

“…What?”

“James I know you’re smarter than you look, you know who I’m talking about,”

“Yeah, I do, but there’s no way,”

“Yes there is, I heard her and Lily talking about you when I went to borrow that book,”

“Okay… are you sure?”

“As sure as the day is long.”

James pulled a face at him, “Okay, mate, yeah. Whatever you say.” He patted Remus on the shoulder as he walked into the tent.

Why was James being so sarcastic with him? Remus would do anything for your attention and affection. Remus brushed off James’ attitude and went to find a seat in the stands

He watched as the Gryffindor team came out of the tunnel and began the match against Hufflepuff.

Both you and James were chasers, Remus sat slumped in between Lily and Mary as he watched you and James fly close together.

In the air, far from the stands, James absolutely unloaded to you about what Remus had said to him before the match.

“I’m serious, I think he’s actually dense,”

“James be nice, he’s probably just not thinking straight,”

“I’m serious, he held me at the tent, telling me how much you are in love with me and how he overheard you and Lily,”

“Oh? What?”

“Yes when he came to borrow that book or whatever,”

“When? I haven’t even seen him all week?”

“It was Sunday night I think.”

Sunday? Sunday. You were talking about Remus. Not James. Merlin, he really is dense.

Neither of your attentions were really on the game anymore and the two of you had just been circling around the pitch passing around the quaffle.

You had Remus stressed. Why were you and James just talking? What are you talking about? This is the worst match he’s ever been to, he should’ve just stayed in his dorm.

Marlene circled around you and took the quaffle, “If you’re going to fly circles around the Hufflepuff players, at least score us some points. Talk about your gossip shit on the ground,” she shouted out.

Finally snapped back into it, you centered your focus on the game around you. How are you going to make this right?

The game ran longer than normal because of the close score, but Gryffindor had ended up catching the snitch, abruptly ending the match.

You and the rest of the team showered and headed to the Gryffindor common room, just ready to conk out on the couches, but alas, the Gryffindor common room never sleeps.

When you arrived, there was a bustling party. James, Sirius, and Marlene jumped right in, some of the other players went up to their dorms, but what could it hurt if you stayed down a bit longer?

You scanned the party for your close friends, mostly Lily. When you had found her, you dragged her off to a quieter part of the room and told her everything James had said on the pitch.

“I agree with James, he’s actually dense,” Lily rolled her eyes.

“Why would he think I have a thing for James? That’s outrageous!!”

“I don’t know, maybe you should talk to him,” she pointed over to where Remus was sitting on the stairs alone, only observing the party, swirling a cup of who knows what.

You approach him, but he didn’t seem to register it; he was lost in his own world.

“I heard you’ve been spying on me,” you say gently, but loud enough he could hear you over the music. He looks up at you and then down at his cup, his cheeks flushed.

“May I?” you point to the spot next to him and he nods.

“You know I think you really are dense,” he snaps his head at you.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. How could you possibly think I like James?”

“You said- you said he was gorgeous and perfect and his pranks-“

“Yeah, I did say he was, but I didn’t say James was,”

“So it’s Sirius or Peter then?” He thought hard next to you, everything you said applies to all his friends.

“Merlin, you really are stupid.”

You roll your eyes at him and grab his shirt pulling him in closer to you. Your lips collide with his softly and he’s shocked, but gives in.

You pull away and he looks at you dumbfounded, “So you said all those things about me?”

“Do I need to make myself clear again?”

“Actually, I do think so,” he says with a smug grin.

You pull him in for another kiss, it’s safe to say he doesn’t think you like James anymore.

[cjhern1109]

Someone once told me in the comments that they can’t draw because it always turns out like crap.

Boi, have you seen my blog??? Look how often my artstyle changes every couple months, sometimes it’s inconsistent but there is improvement. And again, it’s only a couple of months difference, so it’s often jarring for some if you know where you’re looking!

Not to mention of the unfinished doodles and sketches y’all don’t get to see posted publicly. It’s also sort of one of the reason why I don’t post often cuz I feel like my art isn’t good enough, other than being lazy or irl stuff

So if you think your drawings are like crap now when you only just started, OF COURSE it’s going to look like that, mate! You just started!

But if you think your drawings still look like crap after years of drawing, question yourself how much actual effort you put into that drawing:

Did you look at references? Either it posing or inspo?

Follow art tutorials! In today’s modern use of internet, you can find free art lessons online

Take the time to sit down and practice what you have learned? Even doodling and unfinished sketches help a lot if you’re short on time! I’m literally an example of this lol

I fear that this user will think that artists are gatekeepers and end up using AI, but seriously isn’t the case and it shouldn’t be.

And it has to be said, please don’t compare your art with others, we all started from somewhere. Don’t expect yourself to reach the same skill level as someone who has years of practice or had the resources to learn art early on.

Art, as everyone knows the quote by now, is subjective, but it only just comes down to how much you’re willing to practice on!

- CJ the Opossum

Sorry for the rant, was just reminded of the user’s comment when looking at my old doodles. So here is a little bonus if you stayed and read. If not, at least something worthwhile

This is detective Frisk and Lust Sans AU created by the user @feelisia 🐑 🩵

[tamayula-hl]

Omi addicted to mating press

It's a bit of a continuation of this, depicting Omi a few years later

⚠️NSFW/Adults Only ⚠️All characters in this manga are adults ⚠️AI-based translation ⚠️If you cannot see my work, please tap the ALL-AGE button in the top right corner of the screen to switch to ADULTS!

Link to the manga in undercut.

(https://poipiku.com/7505915/10240037.html)

This manga contains adult material and is suitable only for mature people. Read with caution and discretion.

Ominis should be able to easily touch MC's cervix with his long mushroom! I have always fantasised that he must love teasing thet part😏 (Of course, we understand that in reality the cervix is a very pain-sensitive area. This is fictional... 😌)

[scarscribblesstuff]

Deserve Better

Fandom: Redacted Audio

Characters: David, Angel

Pairings: David/Angel

Song: https://open.spotify.com/track/30z3nZVZ3MfMnvKy7qh3I6?si=cP8WT7PkQ5an_4DL99mp_g

TW: mentions of parental criticism and fatphobia/body shaming!

Keep an eye on those tws lovelies and look after yourselves <3. Upset with family Angel was second on my poll so here it is! A lil headcanon for myself is Angel maybe not having the best relationship with their parents to serve as a foil to David and Gabe's relationship bc I think it's very interesting to explore within the dynamic of their relationship. Didn't get super into it here but will do in my fairytale au ahxbsh.

As always here it is on ao3 if that's easier! Please do not feed to AI, claim as your own, or repost to other platforms without my permission. The characters belong to Redacted Audio and this is a fan work. Hope you enjoy!

(Fic below cut)

Relieved to be home after a long long day, Angel slams the front door shut behind them. Dropping their bag on the ground and tossing their jacket in the vague direction of the peg, they move upstairs. David won't be home till late, so they have time to explode without worrying about lashing out at him. 

Agitation sat beneath their skin like ants; scratching and biting at their bones. They wanted to let the anger out, but they were too frustrated to focus on venting it properly. They didn't want a distraction, they didn't want to be pissed off out of their mind, they didn't want to have a family whose mission it apparently was to  just cut them down. They pick up the nearest pillow and scream into it, missing the sound of a key in the front door.

David hears the scream as he shuts the door behind him and immediately sprints up the stairs, half shifted. “Angel?” He calls, hating how his voice shakes. He’s experienced every worst case scenario at work and never wavered, but in his home, with his Angel? The fear swallows him more than he’d like to admit.

“Fucking hell!” Angel startles and hastily wipes the angry tears away as best they can. “Davey, you're home early.”

“Are you okay? I heard a scream.” He scans the room quickly, searching for any kind of threat.

“That was me.” They smile unconvincingly, putting the pillow back on the bed with shaking hands. “I'm fine, but I'm sure you could make me scream later ayyy.” They half heartedly shoot a finger gun at him.

Assured there's no physical threat, letting go of the shift, he gradually shrinks back down. Well, as much as David can shrink to anything. He moves closer, out of the doorway towards his mate, ignoring their weak attempt at an innuendo. “What's wrong, Angel?”

“It's nothing.” The words spill out reflexively, but they stop themselves, deflating a little. “It's not nothing I-” they swallow thickly. “...It's a lot.” 

“What can I do?” He asks lowly.

Forcing themselves to breathe they answer. “Let me tell you about it?”

“Of course.” He nods, taking off his jacket and draping it over the desk chair.

“Stop being hot while I'm trying to be angry.” They grumble with a sigh. “I'm sorry-”

“Don't.” He stops them, sitting down on the bed. “Let it out Angel, you're allowed to be angry and have had a shitty day. And you’re allowed to joke if that helps you ease into it more. Take your time.”

Blinking back more tears they nod, feeling the bittersweet sting of comfort on long open wounds. “Okay. I… yes.”

“Tell me what happened.” He prompts, inviting their hurt into the space.

“Saw my parents today.” They don't look at him, starting to pace around the room. “And I thought we were doing better. But I guess not. It seemed fine at first but then the little comments dropped here and there began. About ‘if I’d finally made something of myself’ and done any of their ‘suggestions’.” 

They see David tense out of the corner of their eyes, ignoring it too focused on trying to let it all out. “And I used to be able to handle it just fine. But I wasn't able to today. And all I got for what little restraint I had, was a fucking chat about how moody I'd become.”

Angel’s pacing has sped up now. Their anger and frustration felt like fire flickering at their heels as they gain momentum. “And then to top it all off they said they got me a gift and-” they falter for the first time. “It was slimming pyjamas. To make me look better, for you. While I sleep.” Their voice cracks, and the tears finally spill out. 

That doesn’t stop the pacing though, if anything it becomes more erratic, fists clenching. “Because that's what I needed to worry about on top of everything. How I look when I'm asleep. In front of my fucking husband out of everything who's the best part of my life and now it won't leave my head.” The last sentence brings them to a halt as the tears overwhelm them.

They have never felt more exposed in that moment. Standing before David, their chest had opened and they were offering him the small figure of their childhood. A little kid begging for a parent’s love, crying out for a hurt yet to fully heal. Showing him some of the shaking mess within, once again.

And just like when rain made them flinch beneath the covers. Or when the dark looked too much like the night of the Inversion when they waited for his return. Or when, in trying to hold everything together weeks later, after work, they were still able to fall into his arms and cry. David is there, right beside them. Loving them with everything he has.

He doesn’t say anything, he holds out a hand to them. Offering his comfort without hesitation or judgement. His gaze is just as vulnerable and loving as if a younger version of him was also reaching out to theirs. They look at his hand for a moment before slipping their hand in his and allowing him to pull them onto his lap, melting into his hold. They sob into his shoulder for a long while, his hand gently stroking their back while they do.

“You're worth so much more than they ever bothered to show you. You are just incredible and so capable, in work, in life, in everything I see you do. And you know I don’t just say things like that for nothing.” He murmurs once their breathing evens out. “You are the most beautiful person I've ever laid eyes on, Angel. My mate, my Angel. I never want you to feel you have to hide yourself from me. And I am so angry they think they can treat you like that.” A growl slips into his voice that he tries to swallow, wanting to focus on his love.

“I’m so tired of trying to prove myself to them.” They say in a small voice and David feels his heart crack at how vulnerable they sound. They’re such a vibrant and bright presence even when saying nothing at all, and it hurts him to see them so subdued.

“You deserve better.” He presses a kiss to their forehead, carefully wiping tears from their cheek with his thumb. He keeps his anger measured, there will be time for his rage at the injustice, when his spouse is feeling better. “How can I improve this evening for you?”

Angel considers for a moment, leaning into his touch as if they were starved of it. “Can we cook together? And watch something terrible?” 

He kisses them gently. “Anything you want my love.”

“Even the Lego Batman film?” A smile creeps onto their face as a more mischievous tone returns to their slightly croaky voice.

“Almost anything you want.” He replies immediately, unable to hide his own smile despite his grumbles.

“Boo after the day I've had? You loved that movie.” They huff against his neck, teasing.

“Yeah, until you and Tank decided that I sound like that emo and quoted it every pack meeting for a month.”

“You secretly loved it.”

“Milo still calls me Mr Wayne in that stupid British accent, Angel.”

They burst out laughing, wrapping their arms tight around his shoulders as a small chuckle escapes him. 

After a moment, the laughter dies down and they give him a small squeeze. “Thank you Davey. I love you.” They whisper quietly against him.

“I love you too Angel. Come on. I'm going to put my shoes and jacket away, but meet me in the kitchen?” 

They nod, leaning forwards to capture his lips in theirs before standing up, allowing him to leave the room.

As they go to follow him, they pause by a picture of David and his dad in front of a blooming and colourful garden. “I wish I could have met you Gabe.” They murmur softly.

“Angel?” David calls from downstairs.

“Coming Batman!” Angel pads downstairs, passing more pictures along the walls. Them, Asher, and Tank after being ‘rescued’ from that lake, the smash tournament, the first mates outing, their wedding. 

Family is what you make. And by god if they hadn't found a good one, they think proudly as they emerge into the kitchen, hugging David from behind. A damn good one.

[gremlin-girly]

Forget-me-not Blues

Ask and ye shall recieve! Buckle up buttercups, this is my first Soulmate AU.

Banner by me and the images were sourced from Pinterest (credit to the OG pics), made in Canva

Dividers by: @/sweetmelodygraphics

Pairing: Bucky x f!reader

Tags/Warnings: FLUFF, ANGST/WHUMP, Soulmate Mate Mark AU!, mentions of death., mentions of torture, right person wrong time, 2nd and 3rd person P.O.V, petnames (doll)

I’m leaving out some tags so I don’t go spoiling the plot so please read at your own risk!

Not beta'd. I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated (or put through AI)

A/N: I cut a huge chunk about Soulmate AU context at the beginning because it felt unnecessary. It's just a world where word/phrase of the soulmate's is written on them; it's not always the first thing they say to a person :)

More Author’s Notes are at the end of this fic so if you want to know more about the flowers and some thoughts I had whilst writing this, please go take a peek! This has been a labour of love.

Summary: A story about finding and losing soulmates to the test of time.

Word count: 4.2k

Navigation | The Bucky Barnes Collection

1942

Your family had owned a flower stand for as long as you could remember. Ever since you could stand on your own two feet your father put you to work handing out daisies to every woman, young or old, that passed by just to put a smile on their face.

Adorned with roses, daisies, poppies and more, the colourful stall had always been popular. Your father expertly wrapped combinations of flowers in old newspapers until the war began. He believed it was bad luck to wrap gifts in bad news.

When your father had been called to return to service, he had entrusted the stall to you. The old women who’d lost husbands and sons in the war would often buy a poppy or three, and any of the soldiers on a short stay would always buy a dozen or so roses for all of the dames.

James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes was one of your best customers. Bucky was always smiling, flirting and generally schmoozing his way by, often with a battered Steve Rogers in tow. Bucky being the big romantic he was liked roses, of course, and would frequently stop by your stall on his way home from work.

“Hey doll,” Bucky grinned, leaning against your display table.

You couldn’t help but smile back. The playful air he had around him was infectious and you half wished you could find a soul mate like him. Or wished you could just have him.

“Afternoon Buck,” You fluff up a pile of pink roses. Despite the trying times, business was booming. A lot of dates, a lot of weddings and a lot of funerals. “Want the usual?”

Bucky plucks up a rose and twirls it in his fingers before raising it to his nose and inhaling the gentle, sweet scent. His grin grows wider, his boyish charm shining through with the glimmer of mischief in his blue eyes and the dirt on his cheeks from a long day at work.

You know what’s coming next.

“No, Bucky.” You say airily, smiling at him as you move to the next pile of roses on the stall. Bucky gapes at you.

“Please, doll. One dance - that’s all ’m askin’!”

It’s now the sixth time he’s asked you and each time he looks like a kicked puppy when you tell him no.

“Yes but one dance turns into two, then three.” You tease, moving around the stall to face him, plucking the rose from his fingers and leaning close. “And then you’ll be dancing with a new dame next week anyway. I’m just cutting out the middle man. Plenty of men like you come by my stall, James.”

You turn away from him with a short shrug, placing the pink rose back into it’s correct pile before moving to a new carefully packed crate of flowers that need unpacking.

“What if I’m not the man you think I am?” Bucky counters, following after you. “Maybe I’m terrible at dancing.”

Chuckling you turn to face him, ready to spout another weak excuse to not go with him, when one of your white roses is stuffed under your nose. Raising an eyebrow you look over at Bucky, who’s smirking at you.

“Hi, my name’s Bucky and, if you’d be so kind as to let me take you dancing sometime, I promise to make it worth your while.”

You feel heat crawl up your face as you start to laugh. “Why are you introducing yourself to me?”

“Because,” Bucky shrugs, the twinkle in his eyes becoming a bright sparkle now that you’re laughing. “I’m not the man you think I am. And life’s too short, doll. I’d like to spend at least one night of my life dancin’ with you.”

How were you going to argue with that?

But something seemed… strange. When you’d say no, usually he’d banter with you a bit more and ask about your dad, you’d ask after his mom, his sister and Steve before he’d trot on his merry little way with you gazing after him.

Today, Bucky was insistent but behind his eyes was a sadness you hadn’t seen before. Your heart strings tugged, something within you screamed at you to say yes like you had desperately wanted to all those times before. No more imagining what it would feel like to have his hands in yours as you twirled and danced well into the night.

“Sure,” you sigh after a few moments, trying not to seem too eager. Bucky beams at you so brightly anyone else would think you’ve hung the moon and hands you your white rose with a mocking bow.

“One dance.” You add firmly, heart fluttering as your fingers brush his when you pluck the rose from him.

Bucky puts his hand on his heart, beginning to walk backwards. As he passes your stall he stuffs a dollar into your change jar and bats his eyelashes innocently at you.

You shake your head with a grin, watching him go. There was an electric charge all around you and you felt excited for your long-dreamed-of date with one Bucky Barnes.

“I only need one dance to make you fall in love with me, doll!” He continues walking backwards, narrowly avoiding other New Yorkers, but his eyes never leave yours. “I’ll pick you up at seven!”

Dancing with Bucky was exactly how you imagined it would be; your feet barely touched the ground as he spun and lifted you. You felt lighter than air as you looked down at Bucky's grinning face, eyes sparkling with joy as he held you close. One dance quickly turned to three.

After the third, Bucky led you to a nearby table.

"So much for one dance." Bucky teases lightly, his hand still lightly holding your waist. You're thankful your flushed cheeks hide your embarrassment but you're smiling regardless. Before he can ask you what drink he can get you, We'll Meet Again begins to crackle over the speaker and you drag him back to the dance floor.

"Hey, shouldn't I be leading doll?" He jokes, hands immediately encompassing your hips once you'd found a space to sway in.

"Hush," You murmur, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I like this song."

Bucky smiles down at you and says nothing further until the song finishes. You both mimic the other, swaying to the music and gently singing along as you gaze at eachother.

"I should walk you home doll." Bucky says quietly once the song finishes. You feel a little light-headed and breathless, even though you'd only been swaying and you notice that Bucky's hands are still on your waist.

"O-okay." You swallow. If Soulmates didn't exist, you'd be kissing him right about now. "I know a short-cut."

"This," Bucky looked up as the wrought iron fence. "Is a short-cut?"

"Where's your sense of adventure?" You grin back at him as you crawl through a gap in the fence. "Come on Sarge, it's not far I promise."

Bucky sighs with a smile, pulling his dress pants up so they don't rip at the knees when he crawls through the gap after you. You take his hand and lead him blindly through the dark park, the both of you stumbling and giggling like teenagers, until you reach a dirtpath leading through a small thatch of trees to a clearing. The light of the moon illuminates the clearing into a sea of blue. Forget-me-nots are clustered together in one large group in the clearing; thousands upon thousands of tiny blue flowers that disappear to black when the moon vanishes again behind a cloud.

"Wow," Bucky breathes. "You've been holdin' out on me, doll. If I knew this was here, I'd have taken you on a romantic picnic instead of dancin'."

“Yeah, I could spend forever getting lost in those forget-me-not blues,” you sigh wistfully, looking over at Bucky's face.

“Well doll, forget me not.” He punctuates each word with a sad smile.

What should be a joyous moment filled with love, happiness and a rainbow of technicolour is soured by the harsh reality that Bucky wouldn't be staying in New York any longer. You shouldn't be too surprised, you knew he got drafted but you can see it in his eyes, the utter sadness of your situation. You can't even enjoy finding your soulmate in peace.

“You’ve got orders.” You can barely eke the words out of your closing throat.

Bucky nods, swallowing thickly and looking at your entwined hands. “Got my letter the other day. England."

You breathe out, long and slow, your nose becoming more blocked as more tears stream down your face and your throat burns with unvoiced sobs. It was unfair. So, so unfair.

"I'll write to you everyday." He promises, squeezing your hand back. "I'll come back and visit every chance I can get until this war is over. And then-"

“I could never forget you James Buchanan Barnes. Never.“ You say firmly, gazing over at him and squeezing his hand hard.

You cut him off with a quick kiss that doesn't even begin to convey how happy you are to have found him, trying to protect your heart from more hurt that undoubtedly will come.

"Save it for your letters," You tease softly, sniffing away tears. "I want something to look forward to while I wait."

Bucky grins and pecks your lips back. "You got it, doll."

You both stay on that log until the early hours, basking in each other's presence before Bucky was deployed to England the next afternoon. The voids left in your hearts when you separated were almost too much to bare but when you were safely home, and Bucky tucked away on a boat, you both immediately began to work on your letters to each other.

Being posted in England isn't too bad to begin with. In fact, Bucky thinks that his letters are too boring but he doesn't want to fill the letters with how much he misses you or how he wishes he could be with you instead; he knows you know it too, and it doesn't make it hurt any less.

When he's sent to Europe, suddenly those boring, mundane letters are a God-send. One of your letters contained a good Iuck charm, courtesy of your small slice of blue paradise ; a single pressed forger-me-not into a piece of card with a lipstick stain of your lips on the reverse. Bucky kept the piece in his left breast pocket, just over his heart, keeping the thought of you near wherever he went.

The first thing he does after Steve rescues him is write you.

He leaves out the details but tells you not to worry, he'll be home soon. Tell Mom and Rebecca not to worry too.

Days later, when he's lying in the snow bleeding from the Stump that was his left arm, he wonders if it was all worth it. Your lucky charm had disappeared somewhere during the fall and Bucky sobbed at the thought that not only had he lost his arm but a piece of you too. Delirious with blood loss, he imagined your face in the cold comfort of the snow, smiling playfully like you always did, kissing him so tenderly like you had on your date all those moons ago. He couldn't leave you without a soulmate.

Hearing approaching footsteps crunching in the snow, Bucky screamed for help, hoping, praying that it was Steve.

It wasn't.

Turns out, HYDRA don't like it when their science experiments escape and despite vowing to escape a second time once he's healed, it's nigh impossible. And not without consequence.

Bucky's vow quickly becomes to always remember you instead when he's strapped to the electric chair, biting on his tongue so hard he draws blood. The more his brain cooks in the chair, the more torture he's subjected to, the more your face blurs in his mind's eye. It kills him, little by little, knowing you're fading from his memory but he still tries to remember your face. He still hopes, dreams and thinks of you. Would you remember him? Would you recognise him if he returned from this hell on Earth?

What breaks him is not the twenty-seven long years of being thawed and unthawed, tortured and electrocuted. It's the one rainy day where his heart hurts so badly, he screams until he can't any longer. It's the day his blurred soulmate's face is torn from his soul and leaves him all alone in the cruellest, darkest place imaginable.

The premature death of Bucky Barnes' soulmate caused the birth of the Winter Soldier after twenty-seven gruelling years.

How could you suffer on knowing you would never see your one true love again? His brain and heart couldn't win out after that.

Present Day

Museums were Bucky’s favourite places to be on his days off. There was something comforting about the silence and the relics of human history, the evolution and study of animals, rocks and bones and the celebration of human artistry that wasn’t as overwhelming as the Internet. The Internet was faster, sure, but museums had everything in one neat place and no two museums were the same.

He and Steve had spent countless days of their childhood visiting the Natural History Museum and then when he'd finally broken away from HYDRA, he'd visited every museum he could find to learn about himself and the developments after the war that he'd missed.

Today, though, Bucky had decided to take a longer wander through the galleries. It was easy to walk through and ignore the paintings until something caught your eye but Bucky was insistent that he would stop at every painting today and perhaps try to see what Steve sees.

It wasn't with what she was wearing or how she looked but something just didn't seem right. Bucky knew he should probably investigate but dammit it was his day off; he deserved some peace and quiet.

The galleries aren’t busy, as usual. A few old couples taking a wander through, a gaggle of tourists taking photos and an art student or two studying brush strokes of portraits. However, in a small alcove surrounded by paintings of flowers and woodland, sat a woman who looked entirely out of place.

The woman is still there when he makes it to the alcove and the pull from his chest is unbearable now. He was wrong before when he'd thought that she didn't seem right; she was perfect. He couldn't remember when he'd last seen someone so beautiful that she looked like a rare painting come to life. Nervous didn't begin to describe the feelings swirling in his chest. There was an unfathomable joy coupled with anxiety and he wished he kept gum in his leather jacket right now.

The hair on Bucky’s arm and neck stand on end, his heart rate sky rocketing. He’d heard that phrase before.

“I could spend forever getting lost in those forget-me-not blues.” The woman sighs dreamily, gazing at the painting before her.

Bucky's caught off guard when she turns to look over at him, her eyes catching his for a small respite and he almost folds like a deck chair. The air is sucked out of Bucky’s lungs so quickly he can barely process it and he feels faint, no dizzy, from just looking at her properly. Her eyes are wide with surprise but there's a sliver of playfulness that hides within them and whatever ever was nagging at him earlier has now blossomed into a crackling hearth of building adoration that was vaguely familiar somehow.

“What did you say?”

Bucky's eyes drop to her neck, where a tiny blue flowers pendant sits on a delicate silver chain. It's delicate but sweet, an almost perfect compliment to her being.

“Oh! I’m sorry. Talking to myself.” The stranger gives him a sheepish smile and turns back to the painting. “Beautiful isn’t it?”

For some odd reason, Bucky feels a wave of melancholy. He can't place why when there's a stunning woman in front of him.

Bucky tears his eyes from her and looks at the painting; two blurred figures dancing amongst a sea of blue flowers, similar to the necklace she wears. The male figure is holding the female figure's hand as her dress billows and blends into the flowers. Although they don't have faces, it's clear these figures are happy and in love.

"Does it make you feel sad?" The woman asks suddenly. Bucky glances over to see that her expression has changed to one of longing.

"-they look happy." She finishes, looking over with a wry smile. "Sorry, I shouldn't be so depressing to a stranger."

"I... yeah. Even though-"

"I like your necklace."

Bucky smiles and shifts on his feet. He wants to say something more, tell her that it's fine, but instead he dumbly states;

He regrets it as soon as he says it and looks to his feet. Didn't this used to be easy? Hadn't he charmed women both as Bucky and the Winter Soldier?

"Oh! This?" She fiddles with the pendant between her thumb and fore finger, inspecting it gently. She doesn't seem bothered by the awkward compliment. "I just like forget-me-nots."

“Why forget-me-nots?” He asks suddenly.

Forget-me-nots.

Something in his mind flashes with recognition.

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you like them?”

The woman pauses and scratches her face thoughtfully, as if trying to place when she began loving the tiny flower. "I… don’t know, actually. I just always have.”

Bucky starts to smile wider. He feels like himself, how he used to be back in the 30s. Even though there's something about her that makes him suffer this almost recognition, like she’s a word stuck on the tip of his tongue, he can't deny the joy and warmth he feels in her presence and he can't help but want keep speaking with her.

She offers Bucky a shrug. “I guess they’re pretty? Teeny, tiny little things but the colour?” She gives Bucky an impressive smile but then it falters for a moment as she catches his eyes again, really looking at them this time. “Wow. Your eyes are some shade of blue.”

“Thanks.” He clears his throat and tries for nonchalance. "Do you... come here often?"

As soon as the words leave his mouth, he cringes, scrunching his face with disgusted embarrassment. So much for feeling like himself. Was flirting always so hard?

"Ugh. Sorry that was.... oh God." Bucky runs a hand down his face as the woman laughs.

“It’s alright and to answer, no - I don't. Today I just, well, it sounds stupid. But today I just really wanted to come here. I usually just walk straight past but I’m glad I did.” The flirtatious smirk she gives Bucky makes his knees wobble and he has to shift his weight to hide it.

"You probably already know why they’re called forget-me-nots.”

Bucky says, opting to try to sound knowledgeable instead of cool. Maybe that would be a better play. He doesn't know what's gotten into him. He's usually calm and collected. However, his heart is beating so hard he's scared it may fall right out of his chest.

Bucky’s lip twitch into a smirk and the woman pats the empty space next to her, shuffling over slightly to make space for Bucky. His knee knocks hers and he gives a quiet, embarrassed apology before clearing his throat to recite what he'd been told.

“I do but tell me anyway.”

He trails but the woman is transfixed on his face.

“They used to be given to soldiers going off to war by their lovers.” He says. “I don’t remember who told me but…”

"Sorry." Bucky scrunches his nose and smiles. "I got lost for a moment."

"At least you came back." The woman smiles in return. She looks back towards the painting again. Bucky tells himself that it’s out of old observational habits that he watches her face; how her eyes look longingly at the dancing couple of the painting, the sweet curve of her lips as she smiles.

"Do you think they were soulmates?"

"I think they're two people who love each other." Bucky says cautiously and when the woman raises an eyebrow at him, he shrugs sheepishly, waving his left arm. "Sorry I... I don't have one. The writing must have been on my left arm and I can't remember what it said. I'm a little jaded, unfortunately."

She frowns and points to his arm. "Your arm looks fine to me."

Bucky snorts and smiles sheepishly at her. “It’s a…. um, prosthetic. I don’t have any words anywhere else so they had to have been on my left arm. I should have been clearer."

“Oh.” The woman's face turns fire-engine red with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry. That was so rude of me."

"Don't worry about it." Bucky shrugs it off with a chuckle before swiftly changing the subject. "What do you like about the painting?"

“I’d love to do that one day.” She says wistfully after a moment, nodding at the figures.

She laughs, no chuckle this time, a pure lilt of happiness that makes Bucky’s heart twist in his chest and he can’t help but smile a little wider. Flirting was a little bit like riding a bike, not that he’d been interested in flirting much since having his brain fried multiple times.

“Do what? Dance?” Bucky asks curiously, sensing an opportunity. “You can dance whenever you want. We can dance right here if you want, I’ll ask one of the guards for music.”

The woman glances over at him, biting back a smile and rolling her eyes playfully. “Riiiiiight. Sure."

"I mean it!" Bucky bolsters, hopping to his feet. "I-..."

He falters for a moment when he sees her grin; her challenge. Her eyes meet his, bright and sparkling. Whatever he feels he knows she feels it too. He offers his left arm to her, stiff and awkward as his face blooms red.

The woman snorts and laughs again but she takes hold of his gloved hand, rising to her feet.

“Hi, my name’s Bucky and, if you’d be so kind as to let have this dance, I promise to make it worth your while.”

"Y/N. And just one." Her tone is firm but her glittering eyes betray the same excitement he feels. "What about music?"

"Heard they have music on phones nowadays, doll." Bucky quips, his free hand reaching for his phone in his back pocket. He doesn't notices she's raised a curious brow.

"Doll? That's a new one."

"I - oh..." Bucky grins sheepishly but before he can apologise, she stops him with a smile.

"I like it. Vintage."

Now it's Bucky's turn to snort. Who needed soulmates anyhow?

"Speaking of vintage." Bucky hits play on Vera Lynn's remastered classic.

"We'll Meet Again." She murmurs as Bucky's hands ghost along her waist. "Good choice."

"Thanks. Is this okay?"

"You're barely touching me." She giggles, wrists crossing behind his neck.

"Hey, I gotta make sure. Just follow my lead."

Vera Lynne's voice echoes around the alcove drawing curious peeks from other museum-goers but both Bucky and the woman in his arms couldn't care less as they swayed to the music. Y/N followed Bucky's footsteps as he guided her around the room with practices ease, poking fun at her lightly when she'd step on his feet accidentally.

An image rears its head in Bucky's mind's eye. There's a park, somewhere, with hundreds of forget-me-nots but he can't place the timeline. Did he go there as the Winter Soldier? Did he go there during the war? Was it a passing visit on a mission?

He knows he didn’t find it, someone showed him. Maybe Steve? Someone else? Did he see it once in a dream?

“You’re a good dancer.” Y/N whispers against his chest as the song draws to a close. Bucky is sure she can hear his heartbeat through his leather jacket now. “I don’t think I could ever forget this.”

“Well, doll... Forget me not.” He doesn’t know why he says it. It’s cheesy at best, terrible word play at worst.

But she halts, blinking up at him. The silence in the alcove is so loud a pin could drop.

It’s like a veil has lifted. The air shifts, Bucky can feel it now. That joy he buried earlier rose from the soles of his feet all the way up to his head. He felt like he was walking on air. He can see her eyes widen, further and further until their the size of dinnerplates, and there, almost within the depths of her soul; there's the flicker of recognition.

“What did you just say?”

It's a domino effect. Y/N's soul reaches for Bucky's as memories flood back; lifetimes of memories, experiences and pain binding their souls together in a dance that will last for eternity.

"It's you," He chuckles, still not quite believing his eyes. "It's really you."

The kiss they share is nothing like their first one. It's longer, more patient, relishing the electric feel of each other's lips for what feel like eons.

“James Buchanan Barnes,” You breathe, tears of happiness filling your eyes. “I knew I wouldn’t forget you. And I knew you’d come back.”

That playful smile he'd grown to love all those decades ago makes a swift appearance on your face and reaches the lights of your eyes as you look up at him.

"Now, if I remember correctly, we have a few decades worth of catching up to do."

END

A/N1: Ready for the flower symbolism? None of this the roses were pink because they were pink roses bs

Forget-Me-Nots: were given to lovers when their gifter went away to war. Commonly associated with the phrase “Forget me not.” (Duh). But they are also representative of remembrance, memory, love, friendship, hope, and fidelity. Source here

The necklace is based on this one on Etsy that I adore

Pink roses: (The first rose Bucky picks up and you steal back) symbolise admiration, happiness and love.

White roses: (The second rose Bucky picks up and hands to you) represent Innocence, purity and loyalty. Bucky’s intentions are were true.

These also are used for fresh starts, so can also be used as Bucky “starting over” (like when he goofily re-introduces himself to you and in the modern day where his memory has been wiped).

A/N 2: Name of the Fic

Well, a multitude of reasons really.

1) forget-me-nots are hardy plants that always come back (hence why reader says it to Bucky). He has an awful habit of bouncing back bless him.

2) Bucky’s Eyes: Azure blue? But there’s something about little poetic in a forget-me-not Blue ;)

3) Blues: Bucky is a big fan of Jazz, and Blues although Blues came before jazz its debated heavily on whether it is a sub-genre of jazz or if its a genre all on its own. Blues songs tend to be romantic, sad and slow; which I think are key elements of Bucky and his story.

4) Their meaning: true love and faithfulness. Can’t have a romance without those right?

5) the utter irony of the fact that Bucky did actually completely forget her lmao

A/N 3: I heavily debated how to incorporate the words of the Soul Mark back into modern day. Originally I was going to leave it kinda open ended at the gallery because I couldn’t think of a way to get Bucky’s words in without them seeming forced. But when I was doing a third edit of this, I realised they could end up having a haphazard date; which ended up as a replay of the 40s just so their souls could greet eachother again in the same place bc I am nothing if not a romantic at heart. I ended up scrapping that in favour of the museum alcove and having them recreate their "first date" there with the paintings acting as the woodland this time because I was struggling with dialogue and bridging the two - but I think it turned out pretty romantic!!!

This was my first time writing a Soulmate AU and I quite enjoyed myself! But I would like some feedback, and obviously all comments are welcome! It’s not to say I’m not proud of my other work on here but this story has been brewing for months (and I’m actually really happy that it won the WIP poll).

I wholly appreciate any comments or asks on this work!! I don’t quite think I’m ready to let it go yet 🥹 so much so that even though there's not a part 2 in the works, there's another fic in the same AU I'm working on ;)

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