#I’m not saying the love isn’t there that it’s suddenly left but it’s become twisted and gnarled.

[itsthewritergal]

Please can I hold you? - Bucky.Barnes x Reader

Hello my loves,

I'm trying to be better this year at writing.

Summary: Y/N leaves, and Bucky tries his hardest to fix it.

TW: Kissing, trauma, family trauma, shouting, swearing, (let me know if I've missed some)

January 1st, it was supposed to be their year. They had promised each other that this was it, Bucky and Y/N. Bucky had promised no more long missions away from Y/N, Y/N had promised that she would move in with Bucky so they could finally spend more time together. A good year was what they wanted, what they deserved, what they needed.  But here they were screaming at each other over Bucky not kissing Y/N at midnight. Y/N had explained to Bucky multiple times that she was at the edge, she couldn’t cope anymore with arguing, and whilst Bucky never admitted it, he hated it just as much, if not more than Y/N. Yet here they were. 

“And another thing, I didn’t even want to go to Nat’s stupid New Year’s eve party” Bucky screamed ‘I wanted to be at home with you’ was the bit he failed to include in his insult. 

“You told me you wanted to be with people you loved on New Year’s Eve, I thought it would be fun” She shouted back “You think it was fun for me? Because it fucking wasn’t. All I wanted to do was come home, the whole night, but you wanted to keep drinking” She seethed, Bucky wanted to tell her it wasn’t true. He didn’t want to drink, but he stupidly got caught up in the party. 

“Now you’re going to get at me for drinking? Like you don’t do it every single weekend” He shouted, “Thor never brings that fucking mead, I deserved to have a nice night” He was being mean intentionally, but he couldn’t stop. 

“I never said you didn’t Buck” She said her voice suddenly quieter, Bucky should have noticed it was because she was getting upset but he didn’t. 

“Do you have any idea how hard I’ve been working? I just wanted one nice night” Bucky should have stopped himself, he knows he should stop but he couldn’t. He was angry at himself for not putting his foot down and saying he wanted to spend time with just Y/N. 

“One nice night?” Y/N parroted “The nights we have aren’t nice? Is that what you’re saying?” 

“No! You’re twisting my words” Bucky snapped, he spoke with insecurity but it came across as anger and Y/N didn’t like that 

“Because I’m the bad guy right? James Bucky Barnes can’t put a foot wrong, but I can. That’s all I do right?” Y/N said, her fears coming to the surface. The insecurity was all from her messed up childhood, Bucky knew that from their late night chats, when they’d lay next to each other and confess everything, but he didn’t realise that the fear was seeping into their relationship. 

“That’s not what this is about” Bucky said realising suddenly how far he had taken the fight, and how distraught Y/N was becoming 

“Isn’t it?” Y/N snapped, her eyes locked onto Bucky as a target.

“You’re making this worse than it needs to be” Bucky said, unknowingly adding more fuel to the fire 

“Yeah that’s me isn’t it? Making everything worse. Don’t worry Buck, I get it” She snapped turning away from Bucky 

“Where the hell are you going?” He called after her 

“Downstairs Buck, I need some space away from you right now” She stormed out of their bedroom and down the stairs. Bucky sat down on their bed with his head in his hands, he had just fucked everything up. 

Taking a deep breath Bucky decided to set an alarm for 10 minutes, and once it had gone off he would go and speak to Y/N calmly about his feelings. That was how they were going to fix it. He knew he had messed up but he would fix it. 

Y/N stood in their hallway, and listened to Bucky close their bedroom door. She knew she had blown things out of proportion, she had made things worse. The little voice in her head told her she had messed things up seriously this time. There was no coming back from this. Bucky hated her, she knew that much. The thought along was enough to almost break her, pulling on her trainers she left the house silently, following the little voice down the streets. She twisted and turned around the streets she used to love walking with Bucky, but now they just felt like they were taunting her as she remembered the kisses they had shared at the bus stop, and the stray cat they had wanted to adopt by the street corner.  She couldn’t cope with it, so she began to run. 

The wind blew in her ears, the kind of fierce that stopped her from having to think, it was dark and the street lamps did little to ease her discomfort. She was on her way home, in the desperate hope that Bucky was asleep, or at Steve’s or Sam’s. She had no idea of the time,  having left her phone at home in Bucky’s jacket pocket most likely, but she sent a silent prayer to the sky that it was late enough that Bucky wouldn’t still be around. She couldn’t face him, not after everything she had done. Her mother was right, she wasn’t made for relationships, she would always mess them up, and now she had screwed up the only good thing she had going for her. This was it. She was done. Y/N didn’t notice the way her hands shivered a little with the cold biting wind, with her furious mood and growing insecurity she had forgotten a coat.  As she turned onto her and Bucky’s street the tears started again, this really was the end. Her and Bucky were about to be done, finished, ended. 

So much for their year. She mused to herself silently, revelling in the cruel twist of fate, her mother was right. 

Pushing the handle of the door down quietly, in the hope to not wake Bucky if he was in, Y/N creaked the door open. She took a shaky step into the house, listening out for Bucky. When she was satisfied that there was no sound of him she closed the door behind her and took off her shoes. 

“Y/N?” Bucky’s shaky voice called out, she froze. “Baby?” He said coming into the hall, Y/N put her hand back on the door handle, she was ready to run again, this was not a conversation she was ready to have. 

“Don’t you dare ever scare me like that again” He said wrapping his arms around her tensed body, Y/N kept herself tensed, she was ready to run if she needed. 

“I know you’re scared, I know you think you’ve messed this all up but I swear to you this whole argument is on me” he said refusing to let her out of his embrace, 

“Bucky stop” she said quietly 

“I’m sorry” He said dropping his arms, she looked up at him with red eyes “Could you come and sit down in the lounge for me?” He asked 

“I should go” 

“No” Bucky said “You’re going to come and sit down and we are going to talk about this, because we are bigger than your insecurities and we are going to fix this” he said, 

“Oh,” Y/N said “oh” She repeated once the words had settled into her head “You aren’t breaking up with me?” 

“Come on doll, come sit down for me?” He said 

“Ok” She said, following Bucky through their house. 

Y/N settled herself into an armchair, where she could curl her legs up underneath herself. Bucky opted for the sofa opposite her, picking up on the fact that she didn’t want to touch him just yet. 

“Before we start, the next time you need to get away you tell me where you’re going. I was terrified doll, I know the kind of people that are out there and if you need space, please let me come with you. I promise I won’t walk beside you or speak to you but I need to know you are safe.” Bucky said “Please?” 

“I’m sorry Buck” She said,

“No apologies. We have to make mistakes to fix them for the future yeah?” He said 

“I don think I can do this Bucky. All your friends hate me, I invited you to a party you didn’t want to be at, I asked you to cut down your missions. Everything I do, makes me the issue in this relationship” She said, 

“That’s not true, everyone loves you—”

“No they don’t, they put up with me” 

“No, no, Y/N. Please don’t do this. I know you’re spiralling, I know that you’ve always been made to believe that its your fault. But I swear to you this one is on me. I wanted to spend New Years Eve with just you. I wanted to kiss you at midnight, but I fucked up. I got drunk and neglected you. You should have been my priority at midnight, not that stupid drink” 

“I should’ve let you have fun” Y/N said 

“No, I should have kissed you” Bucky said, his tone was final and Y/N didn’t want to argue anymore. 

“I didn’t deserve it” 

“You don’t have to earn love” Bucky said, moving to the carpeted space in front of Y/N’s armchair, taking Y/N’s hands in his he pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles “I love you, I want to spend my life with you and I will spend every single moment apologising to you for the way I acted” 

“I’m sorry for saying all those mean things Buck” Y/N said “I didn’t mean them I just wanted to make myself the bad person so you could hate me. I wanted you to hate me” 

“Why did you want that?” Bucky asked after pressing another kiss to her hand 

“So you’d end things, so my fears could come true. It’s sadistic, but I guess I’m always just waiting for the end so I just wanted it to happen. Like ripping a bandage off” 

“Oh Y/N” Bucky said gently “You never have to be scared of me leaving. We will always work through our issues, you’re my life. You’re my world, this is it for me.” 

“So you’re not waiting for me to fuck up so you can leave?” 

“No, I’m not” Bucky said 

“I’m sorry” she whispered 

“No more apologies” Bucky whispered “Please let me hold you baby? We can talk more in the morning I promise. But right now I just need to hold you”

“You never need to ask”

[underacalicosky]

I continue to torture myself with fix-it scenarios where Anakin just can't handle seeing Obi-Wan having an emotional meltdown and gives up the dark side as a result. What if Obi-Wan was a wibbly mess on Mustafar?

“Until now, you’ve become the very thing you swore to destroy.”

“Don’t lecture me, Obi-Wan. I see—“

“Lecture you?!” Obi-Wan snaps suddenly, his voice bellowing. “You think I came here to lecture you?”

His sharp tone makes Anakin take a step back. He sucks in a shaky breath and straightens his posture, refusing to be rattled. As he opens his mouth to respond, Obi-Wan continues interrupting him.

“No, Anakin, I lecture you for staying up too late. For not folding your tunics properly.” His voice gets progressively louder and more impatient. “For not getting enough fiber in your diet! I’m not here to lecture you. I was sent here to kill you!” Obi-Wan yells.

Anakin knows it’s the reason why Obi-Wan is here, but to hear him say the words, with such certainty, makes his heart plummet. He’d hoped, with whatever little hope was left, that he wouldn’t have to fight Obi-Wan. His chest aches, knowing that this is how it must end. But he ignores the weakness that still lives in him and draws on the dark side for strength. The Force ripples around them when he pulls on it.

“And kill the rest of myself along with you,” Obi-Wan says furiously. “Part of me has already died.” He fixes Anakin with an intense stare, a seething fire in his eyes.

Taking another deep breath, Anakin narrows his eyes and returns his glare. He’s never seen Obi-Wan angry like this. It frightens him, but he keeps pacing like he's a caged wild animal because he can’t let it show.

“It died when you knelt in front of a Sith lord and proclaimed him your Master!” Obi-Wan’s face twists with uncontrolled and un-Jedi-like rage. “It died knowing that you would trade me for him. Do I mean that little to you?” he demands, spreading his hands and arms out in front of him. “I poured all of myself into training you and raising you and—”

With matching ferocity, Anakin shakes his head. “This isn’t about you!” Anakin yells, pointing at him.

“Of course it’s about me!” Obi-Wan yells back. “Your mother entrusted you to Qui-Gon and he entrusted you to me. Do you know what it was like everyday being scared out of my mind that I would let them down? That I would let you down?”

This is not Obi-Wan. Anakin was prepared for Obi-Wan to use reason. To remain somewhat collected as he projected his disappointment. Perhaps confronting Anakin with all the ways he’s violated the Jedi code, betrayed the Republic and democracy.

Obi-Wan’s skillfully talked circles around politicians, foreign royalty, the Jedi Council and kept his emotions at bay every time.

But this… Anakin is unprepared for this.

“No,” Anakin says with another shake of his head. “No, I made these choices,” he insists.

“Maybe I should’ve left the Order with you. We would’ve found our own way.” Obi-Wan was lost in his own thoughts, his eyes ticking everywhere at once, unable to focus. “And I wouldn’t have had to train you to be a soldier. Wouldn’t have dragged you through a war. Wouldn’t have let Palpatine near you.”

“I never wanted to be a burden!” Anakin cries.

“You weren’t a burden! You were my brother, Anakin! My greatest joy!” Obi-Wan screams. “What could I have done differently to stop this?” Obi-Wan asks, nearly begging.

With his fists balled at his sides, Anakin holds onto the last vestiges of his resolve. He can’t let Obi-Wan break him.

“We can’t change the past,” Anakin says, his voice hollow.

“Did I not love you enough?” Obi-Wan asks sadly, tears streaming down his face.

Instinctively, Anakin reaches for him through their bond, a habit formed from years of training and bickering and teasing and laughing and to his horror, it recoils and his heart shatters.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Anakin stomps his foot. He can’t have both. He can’t embrace the dark side to exploit its unnatural powers and still expect to find comfort in the golden and pure light that tethers him to Obi-Wan.

Anakin Skywalker has made a lot of choices in the last day. And here, he makes another.

With his head hung, he relaxes his hands and releases. The ground beneath them shakes as the dark, consuming anger bleeds from him.

Again he touches their bond, tenderly. Lovingly. Apologetically.

“I can’t change the past, but help me change the future,” Anakin sobs. “Please. We need to save Padmé. And the baby.”

Finally, Obi-Wan blinks as he snaps out of his trance. His eyes lock on Padme’s unmoving form on the ground and Anakin sees the moment that Obi-Wan realizes his renewed purpose.

“Yes. Get her onto the ship,” Obi-Wan says with the authority of a war General. “I’ll make sure 3PO and Artoo are both accounted for and have them help me find the nearest medical facility,” Obi-Wan says.

“If the Republic finds me… after what I’ve done…”

“Then we need to be careful where we go so they won’t find us,” Obi-Wan tells him and glances at Padmé, then back at Anakin before he boards the ship.

[kitthepurplepotato]

Kirishima Eijirou’s daily shenanigans!

Summary: You work in a little coffee shop (secretly owned by your uncle Crimson Riot), which resides next to Red Riot and Dynamight’s agency. Needless to say, the Crimson Riot signature on the wall lures in the red haired hero on the first day after opening.

Long story short, this a really cute story about a barista and his favorite customer falling in love and becoming a couple. (The only problem is that Red Riot is a himbo and he does not realize you two are actually dating. But that’s a problem for another day.)

Genre: Comedy, strangers to lovers, fluff, hurt/comfort, slice of life

Estimated chapters: Around 10?

Warnings: Swear Words, one or two chapters with smut but they will be skippable, mentions of injuries, depression, blood, fight scenes, one or two chapters of angst around the end but it’s mostly just fluff and shits and giggles. New warnings on every chapter!

About The Reader: SHE/HER, related to Crimson Riot, has red hair but it’s dyed, not natural. She has a really cool quirk and went to hero school when she was young, but she doesn’t work as a hero.

This story is a spin-off to Bakugou Katsuki’s Daily Shenanigans but you don’t need to read that story to understand this one.

Also, English isn’t my first language so please be kind, I’m trying my best!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Chapter 1 - A wild Red Riot appears!

“Welcome!”

A lovely jingle announces Kirishima’s grand entrance to the brand new coffee shop he decided to visit on this lovely afternoon.

It’s manly to try new things, you know; the old coffee shop he used go to might be nice and cosy but how is Kirishima supposed to know if it’s the best coffee shop or not if he doesn’t try the other places in the area? Right?

… Right?

…

Okay, Kirishima has a confession to make.

He doesn’t care how the coffee tastes like at this place. He really doesn’t. The only thing he cares about is Crimson Riot’s signature framed on the wall.

That’s why he’s here, the traitor.

“Ahh, hello!” Kirishima scratches the back of his head shyly; he doesn’t even look at the poor barista, he’s too busy looking around, searching for the sacred signature. He feels blessed to be able to step into this beautiful, crimson colored coffee shop which conveniently opened almost next to from his agency. Well, his and Katsuki’s agency, but that doesn’t matter.

“It’s on the left side, darling. Do not touch the glass, I just cleaned it.” The barista giggles and… oh hello, that giggle was absolutely adorable?! But first of all, what does she mean he can’t touch the glass?! He wants to touch the glass!

Kirishima makes a pouty face, clearly heartbroken by the sudden plot twist; he’s so close to Crimson Riot right now, yet so far away…

“Okay, you can touch the glass. Go on. You have five seconds. One… two…” The barista counts and Kirishima sprints to the little framed signature and does what he does the best; act like a fifteen years old fanboy seeing naked boobs for the first time. Man, boobs are nothing compared to the thrill he feels right now; Crimson Riot is a legend, no one has seen the man for decades, he’s manly and mysterious and Kirishima really likes that about him; sometimes he wonders if Crimson Riot is real at all; that man is so perfect, kind and chivalrous, he’s everything Kirishima wants to be when grows up… well, technically, he is 25 and he doesn’t have too much “growing up” going on anymore but he still feels like he’s twelve. He also acts like he’s twelve. So yeah, he wants to be like Crimson Riot when he grows up. He’s not there yet.

“Would you like to have a coffee or salivating over a framed signature is enough to start your day off with a kick?” The barista suddenly appears behind him and Kirishima jumps.

Well, that’s awkward.

“Yeah, I’m just about to… oh hi.”

To all the Gods and deities up in Heaven, thank you. - Kirishima mumbles as he takes in the beautiful sight in front of him. No, he is not talking about the beautiful signature on the wall this time; that one was demoted to the second most beautiful sight in the world.

“Good morning, sir.” The barista giggles again, and Kirishima swears an angel descended from above in front him.

Kirishima is known to be a ladies man; he loves ladies, he adores them, he cherishes them, he wants to tell every single one of them how beautiful they are; but this one is on another level. This lady here is the most perfect human being Kirishima has ever seen. This lady is the type of lady Kirishima would never have the balls to actually woo. Not like he ever had the balls to woo anyone, to be honest, he’s more like the funny uncle who flirts with everyone but no one takes him seriously and will probably end up alone with 6 dogs 8 cats, 3 bearded dragons because they are really manly and a house worth of Crimson Riot merch. He already has the latter and he’s working on the rest.

“Is the red hair a part of the work uniform or do you just happen to have a good taste?”

Why did he say that?! Why?!

“If that was supposed to be your way of flirting, you have a long way to go, Mr. Red Riot.” She grins and oh my god, Kirishima is in pieces. Literally. He’s quite sure he accidentally hardened his arms under his super tight-fit turtleneck and the fabric just shred to pieces.

At least it’s not something else that hardened…

Eijirou, no.

Do not go there. Do. Not.

“Ahh, you know me.”

“Our staff room window looks at the private parking lot of your agency. There is a massive poster with your faces by the VIP entrance. I need to say, you look much nicer with your hair down though.”

Why is this angel standing so close to him?! What did he do to deserve this beautiful sight?!

“If that was your way of flirting… it completely worked.” Kirishima admits with a crimson face.

You get it? Cuz he’s in Crimson Coffee? Next to Crimson Riot’s signature?

… Nevermind.

“I don’t mean to break your heart so soon, but I wasn’t flirting with you.”

“Y/N, are you bullying our precious customers again? I already told you… oh hello there, young man!” The random lady went from a loud yell to the most pleasant customer service voice he’s ever heard in five seconds. Well that’s a talent. “That’s Red Riot honey, give him a friend and family card, will ya?”

“I guess that’s alright.” The barista, Y/N, rolls her eyes playfully and gives him the little card. “Now order, I’m getting bored.”

And Kirishima does.

Kirishima orders 13 coffees even though he only needs one just to keep this beautiful angel entertained. He gets 2 massive coffee holders with 6 coffees in each and gives the spare one to Y/N with a shy smile on his face, because he’s a gentleman.

“You know I can drink our coffee for free, right?” Y/N raises her brow with a mischievous smile on her beautiful face and he might not have a shot with her after he embarrassed himself in every way possible, but it was completely worth it for that smile.

Kirishima made a great decision today by trying out new things.

Being blasted out of the window by Katsuki after he arrived late, juggling 12 cups of coffee while spilling half of them in Katsuki’s office was absolutely worth it.

(He also landed in the parking lot and was able to see Y/N in the staff room laughing at him. Best day ever.”

~•🪨•~

“Does he come here often or was that a special occasion? Come on, tell me! Please!”

You have all the respect for heroes but this Red Riot guy… is an absolute himbo. In the best way.

First of all, he has no idea how handsome he is. He takes your hand in a begging way, trying to get information out of you and you really need to concentrate to not show any kind of emotion on your face; thankfully, your family is blessed with amazing poker faces. The biggest master of them is your uncle who’s -surprise!- is actually the person Red Riot is asking about right now with perfect puppy eyes. He was able to keep up his mysterious persona for decades even though he’s also an absolute himbo in real life.

Second of all, Red Riot embarrassed himself at least ten times this week but somehow he always leaves with a proud smile like this is what he wanted to do in the first place.

Personally, you really want to smack this man in the head and tell him to be ashamed of himself because by the look of it, his self-esteem is so low he thinks this is just him being himself. Which isn’t true. Red Riot might be a himbo, but he’s also a well respected himbo… you mean hero, and he should definitely act a bit more… confident.

“So what do I get if I tell you this information, sir?” You ask cheekily; you can’t help it, okay? Red Riot is a handsome guy. And he’s also really sweet and gentle. Who would NOT flirt with him?

“I would like to say my number on a napkin but I feel like you would use it as a filter for the coffee.” Red sighs dramatically.

“That’s highly unlikely.” You retort; he looks up at you with eyes full of hope and you already hate yourself for doing this to him, but… “The napkin would melt into the coffee and it would be absolutely disgusting. I can’t serve that.”

“You are such a heartbreaker, miss Y/N! I would like to speak to your manager!” He yells, fake-offended, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Just order your bloody coffee and leave, Red. Seeing you being blasted through the window because you were late is really fun but I kinda hate listening to the drilling noise when your window gets fixed. It ruins my chi.”

“You’re a chi.”

“Well that’s just rude, sir. I might need to ask you to leave.” You giggle, and you can’t help but realize how the air just changed around you two; there is definitely something there, a tension you can’t describe but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s kinda nice to banter with him like this.

“You already did. But you also told me to order first.” Red retorts with a massive smirk on his face and you kinda want to put him into your pocket and keep him in there.

Finally, Red orders and he’s just about to leave when you decide to give him the tiny present you got him.

Yes, you got him a present. Shut up.

“Hey, Red!”

“Yeah?” He looks back with a massive grin on his face.

“I got something for the most handsome customer in this shop.” Red’s face contorts into a frown at that. Would it be rude to kiss your customer’s cheeks to give him some confidence? It’s just a kiss on the cheek, no biggie. Just one kiss. Come on.

“Lucky gal.” He mumbles, trying to fake a smile, but failing miserably.

“I’m talking about you, you himbo.” You laugh and run to the back; it’s a signed Crimson Riot poster. Your uncle was more than happy to throw one at you when you told him about Red Riot being your loyal customer; he’s kinda obsessed with the guy since his first appearance in the sports festival. Long story. He loves to be loved.

Kirishima pales as he rolls the poster out, his eyes misty by the time he rolls it out completely.

“This is a limited edition poster from 30 years ago. One of the first posters… what the hell, man…”

“Look closer.” You wink and Red starts to cry like a baby. He’s so fucking adorable, it’s ridiculous.

“Watching you grow up made me realize why I was a hero for so long. I’m proud of you. Stay manly! Crimson Riot.” Red mutters under his snotty nose. “Y/N, can I marry you?”

This man will be the death of you.

“No.”

“Okay. Thank you. Bye.” Red mumbles with red rimmed eyes. Working in your uncle’s secret coffee shop was the best decision of your life.

“See you tomorrow, himbo.” You giggle and the redhead disappears; one day, you’ll tell him that all the flirting you do is actually serious but that day is not today. You really want to see him gain some self-respect by himself before you shower him with praises every day. You can only hope you don’t ruin your chances by playing with him for too long but that’s a problem for later; for now, you are just happy to be around this mysterious, funny man.

… Next Chapter!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Want to be on the tag list? Just ask me in the comment section or a message me!

The second chapter will be out in two or three weeks depending on your reception of this chapter then I’ll try to post a new chapter every 7 - 10 days!

If you want to see my other works, check out the Master list for Deku x Reader, Bakugou x Reader, Todoroki x Reader and Aizawa x Reader stories!

TL: @porusuniverse @sixxze

[around1302]

II. OUT OF STYLE

SPARE PARTS: a series (2/20)

HOME, NORTH LONDON

(W) strong language, alcohol use

CHARLIE’S POV

“I really liked her, though.” Harry mumbles.

We collectively roll our eyes and I speak for the group when I say, “yeah, that’s the issue, idiot.”

Having to let our stylist go before the second show of tour wasn’t the plan – wasn’t anywhere close to the plan, actually. But, the usual fuck-up did exactly that, and now we’re all scrambling for a new stylist a day before we perform at Wembley.

“Why is it fair she has to go but he stays?” I continue, hearing our manager’s disgruntlement from across the long table before I see it. Harry’s face is mushed into his palm, emotion that should be guilt settling into boredom and it’s only provoking me further.

If I could jump across the metal and kill him, I would.

Last night, at Amelia’s birthday party no less, it came out that Harry had not only been sleeping with our stylist, but not letting her in on his sleeping with other people thing. Cut to a whole room of people watching them have a screaming match (kind of entertaining, I won’t lie) and her resignation being handed in that same night.

“What about Amelia?” Niall pips in.

Amelia is the best stylist I know. For the decades she’s been my best friend, she’s always been the best dressed person I know, and it’s why she’s now crumbling the ladder in a top firm in North London that rakes in millions every year. Of course I’d thought about her, but there’s no way she’d be willing to just drop her position for nine months to style five of her friends.

“Hang on–” Harry suddenly has something to say, but Paula taps her pen on the table and shuns him to silence.

“Where else are we going to find a good stylist over night?” Louis adds.

“So Niall can fuck our stylist but I can’t?” Harry rushes to say, but quickly sinks back into his seat at Paula’s death-glare.

“Does she have references?” Paula turns to Niall.

“She’s a trainee designer for Burberry.”

I see the business-cog in Paula spark to life.

“And she’s available?”

“Well… no–”

Paula sighs.

“But she can take leave!” Niall turns to me, desperation in his eyes, “you know her best, Charlie. She’ll want to do it, won’t she?”

“No,” I answer honestly, “but I’m excellent in convincing her to do stupid shit, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem.”

“This isn’t fair–”

“Fine,” Paula interrupts Harry again, “but if I– no, if the press see even one ounce of funny business on tour, you’ll both be fired. I can’t have any more bad press surrounding a band member and a stylist.”

Paula directs her attention at me as she stands, indicting us all to follow, “give her a call and let me know. In the meantime, rehearsals – go.”

Cluttered yes ma’am’s and scraping chairs echo the meeting room and we all leave, walking a few extra inches ahead of Harry. He’s pissed us all off this time, which is actually quite refreshing. Usually I’m having to convince everyone he’s being an asshole.

“Shut the fuck up,” Harry grumbles as we fall in line together.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re thinking it, and knowing you all I’m going to get for the next few hours is ball-ache.”

I snort, “you wish.”

He stops walking, so I stop too to watch his face morph into some kind of twist between confusion and amusement.

“I wish?”

“Yeah,” I feel my cheeks heat. I’m shit at comebacks and he knows it, “like you’d wish I was anywhere near your… oh, fuck off,” I stride off as his mocking laughter becomes background noise.

I love this band more than anything in the world, but the day we all go our separate ways will probably be the best day of my life.

Convincing Amelia to come on tour with us was surprisingly easy.

I left rehearsals and went to her apartment with her favourite Merlot and the promise of an evening spent drinking and watching shit TV – our favourite pastime, one we don’t get to frequent that much anymore.

It started with a soft launch into the topic.

“Harry fucked our stylist.”

She had scoffed, taken a sip of her red, and turned The Notebook down (to my disappointment; it’s my favourite).

“I was waiting for this.”

I piqued, watching her lips curve as she settled her elbow on her couch’s back. Did she somehow know? I suppose she is also a stylist, were the friends?

“Waiting for bitch-about-Harry hour,” she read the millions of questions on my face. At that, I scoffed, “oh, please. Don’t act like you’ve not been dying to say that this whole time.”

“Bitch-about-Harry hour is not a thing, and no, I wasn’t,” I lied, “he’s just very irri–”

“Irritable and easy to talk shit about. Yeah, yeah,” she set her wine down, seemingly bracing herself, “so this time he slept with your stylist?”

I frowned harder, “I don’t like this anymore. You’ve sucked the fun out of chatting shit.”

Amelia threw her head back in one of those big Amelia laughs, one that (despite my annoyance) has me joining her every time.

“Sorry,” she grips my thigh over the tens of blankets we threw over ourselves, “go on, seriously.”

“Yes, he slept with our stylist, and now we have to find a new one.”

Amelia cleared her throat, lowering her brow, “well did you ever think about moi?”

“What?” I spluttered, “you’d want to?”

“Fuck yeah. You know how good being Spare Parts’ stylist would look on my resume? Plus, I get nine months with you.”

“And Niall,” I mumbled behind my glass.

“And Niall,” she rolled her eyes playfully, “so who did you hire? Someone I’ll know?”

“Well,” I smiled sheepishly, “we were kind of hoping you’d do it. I thought it’d take much more convincing, though.”

“Really?” She squealed – actually squealed – nearly tipping the wine onto my white shirt. I held my glass far from us as I laughed and tried to avoid the crisp cotton.

“Yes, but there’s a whole bunch of shit with contracts, and it would be a lot of rush work as you’d have to start in literally two days. Oh, and you won’t actually be able to use your own designs for a week, Paula said something about filtering out our old stylist’s to make room for your–”

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” she engulfs me in a sitting bear hug, one that spills my wine all down my wrist and onto her (probably stupidly expensive) rug. But despite the wine, and despite the comment about Harry that didn’t leave me, I now have my best friend on tour with me – and a stylist that won’t sleep with Harry.

taglist: @lilfreakjez @be-with-me-so-happily

msg me to be removed!

[trulytiredhermit]

Do you have any ideas for a reader with a kid / kids back home? How would the chain react to that?

*So I originally didn’t have a lot of thoughts about this.

BUT after seeing your ask I’ve started to have some!

However I do have to say that through this ask I’ve discovered I’m not exactly comfortable writing Reader with a biological kid.

I’m really sorry!!

So I hope you don’t mind if I twisted your ask a little bit. Basically Reader is gonna be taking care of a kid but they’re like Reader’s sibling, their niece, or a kid Reader babysits.*

Now this can go two ways for either scenario.

One, the kid comes with Reader through a portal.

Or two, the kid is left at home whilst Reader goes through a portal.

For the scenario where the kid comes with Reader I don’t think the older members of the Chain are gonna be too affected by the kid, even when they become yandere for Reader.

Simply put, the kid isn’t gonna be an obstacle for them and they certainly aren’t competition.

However the same can’t be said for a certain young teen in the group. Wind.

Wind is definitely gonna be jealous of the kid (doesn’t matter how old or young the kid is). For one, HE wants to be in the younger brother/sibling spot, HE wants to be the one with most of Reader’s attention.

So the other kid being there? Yeah, that’s a no bueno for Wind. He’s a jealous little thing who already has to share Reader’s attention with the older Chain members, he ain’t about to share even more of Reader’s attention with another kid.

He’s kinda like the older child when they suddenly get a younger sibling. They’re jealous and they don’t want to share.

However, I feel like if Reader put their foot down Wind would try to get along with the kid. It’s definitely gonna take a while, and the jealousy is still gonna be there at times. But Wind promises to get better for Reader.

Also so that Reader will go back to spending time with him.

Back to the rest of the Chain.

With a kid in tow, the Chain’s gonna become even more protective of Reader. With Wind, they know he’s capable of taking care of himself. He’s gone on his own adventure and come out victorious.

But this kid? This kid won’t know anything, ergo Reader’s gonna be more protective of them, ergo Chain’s gonna be more protective of Reader AND the kid (one because they’re a kid and two because Reader cares for them).

ALSO

Reader’s sibling/niece/kid they babysit can be of use to the Chain when gaining Reader’s favor.

They’re gonna be interrogating the little kid about ALL of Reader’s interests.

“Would [Name] like this? How about this?” “Hey what’s [Name]’s favorite color? What’s their favorite flower?” Even “Have they had any past lovers? What do you think they’d like in a person?”

Hell I think Warriors would throw in a “Can you put a good word in for me squirt?” I can just fricken see it, my lord 😂.

Plus I think Time, Sky, Twilight, and Wild would be helping Reader out a LOT with the kid and keeping them company. I think they’d be the members of the Chain to adore the kid the most (HAVE YOU SEEN THEM INTERACT WITH KIDS! UGH)

Sky’s helping get the kid to bed on time, making sure they’re okay and comfy enough. Offers to let the kid and Reader sleep next to him so they can feel safer in the night.

Wild helps with getting the kid to eat. Y’know how kids can be, they don’t want to eat certain things because the food looks or smells weird. Plus if the kid and Reader are from the modern world it’s gonna be hard exposing to the kid that they can’t have chicken nuggets or McDonald’s.

That’s where Wild can come in. Maybe he even lets the kid help him out with cooking (only with the safe side of things!! He promises!!).

Time and Twilight I can see definitely helping out with getting rid of the kid’s energy. Time offers to play games with the kid whilst their sitting by the campfire or while they’re on the road when the kid’s restless. Time also shows fairies to the kid and let’s be honest the kid’s gonna love them.

Twilight tells the kid tales from his home and his adventure. He especially tells the kid about the friendly wolf that appears and helps the Chain out sometimes. He also tells the kid to be on the lookout for said wolf since he has a feeling Wolfie will appear soon.

Of course all of this comes down to Reader appreciating the Chain a lot more and feeling honored that the Chain is willing to help them out.

Also whilst those four are busy keeping the kid company, you can bet Legend, Four, Hyrule, and Warriors are helping Reader get some relaxation whilst spending time with them.

However I also feel like Four and Hyrule would spend time and help out with the kid. Four would introduce the kid to the Minish and whatnot. Meanwhile Hyrule would show the kid his fairy form and help them get up to a little mischief (Time would also help the kid pull pranks on the Chain).

*Sorry again, but I hope this little twist made up for it!*

[tanoraqui]

Nobody did, in fact, ask me about the half-baked superhero au’s Very Specific, Time Travel-Inclusive Scenario Wherein Finrod and Beor Meet and become Mutually Beloved, but I’m gonna share it anyway bc I thought too much about it:

Finrod gets trapped in some sort of temporal prison that makes him physically manifest in a random woodland glade in like West Virginia from sunrise to sunset every summer solstice between approx the years 1900 and 1950. For Finrod, each day followed the next...mostly. The time in between was dreamlike and quick-moving, and he didn’t really age. But he was lonely. He was awake enough to feel trapped and bored and lonely.

Beor is a local boy raised on stories from his mother’s old home in Ireland, who recently became a father but still went out with friends enough to, one night, wander away from said friends while drunk in the woods, and wake up to what he logically assumed was one of the Fair Folk—on account of the beauty, the idle supernatural singing, and the inability to leave a circle of trees

It’s at least a decade before Finrod convinces Beor he isn’t a faerie lord. He might never actually do it; Beor just stops arguing. But Beor keeps coming back every midsummer, and other times too—for a few days on either side, songs might echo through like ghosts, though Finrod is nowhere to be seen.

Over the years a) they fall in love (“I’m engaged…but Amarië would want me to find solace and love…and we always joked about swinging…”) and b) Beor collects odds and ends of random tech things to help Finrod build a Doohickey to escape. Finrod isn’t the most technically savvy, but he saw what was used to lock him in here and he can jury-rig something to at least break the cage. He can only hope breaking it will drop him back out in his own time. In the process of this, they might figure out how to let Finrod leave the clearing, but he still snaps back and fades as the sun sets? Beor definitely also brings his wife and sons to meet his friend the totally-not-a-faerie-lord.

This fetch/building quest becomes more urgent as the alignment of celestial bodies shifted with time and Finrod manifests less strongly, most ghost-like. (Don’t worry, when they slept first together it was the peak of his physical materiality. Good times...) Soon he’ll miss his chance to get away...and whoever/whatever first trapped him (Sauron?) begins to notice what they’re doing, and sends orcs to stop them.

So suddenly in the year 2010 a random blond is falling out of thin air onto Barahir, bloodied and weeping, maybe with one last orc grappling to him and trying to kill him? Barahir shoves it off and helps kill it, and Finrod, still weeping, probably bleeding, thanks him and recognizes him, says he knew Barahir’s great-grandfather—

Barahir: The one who went into the woods to his “fairy circle” and disappeared one day??

Finrod: [cries harder because that’s confirmation that Beor did indeed hold off the orcs unto his last breath, giving Finrod the chance to escape back to his own time. Gives Barahir a ring and swears eternal friendship, any time you need a favor, etc etc. returns home, where he’s been missing for a year and everyone was VERY concerned]

BUT WAIT, PLOT TWIST! There’s still a little juice left in the time travel escape doohickey, or maybe Finrod asks Curufin for help repairing it enough for one quick temporal round trip…so he and Amarië go back together with ready Song (which he couldn’t do in full force in his prison) and, like, sawed-off shotguns and save Beor from the orcs. History says Beor disappeared that day…so they invite him to the future with them. He agrees, of course: he’s lived a good long life here, all his kids and grandkids will be ok, and really, it’s about time his faerie lord invited him Under Hill, instead of just taking advantage of Beor’s hospitality.

(Finrod: I’m not— never mind. I know you’re just messing with me at this point.)

(Beor: [is 90% messing with him but still isn’t entirely sure his first guess was wrong])

And the future has MODERN MEDICINE! So Beor was a spry 70yo in the early 1950s but now he’ll live to be 90+, Amarië, who is vanilla-human but has the superpower of “gleefully rolling with weird shit”, gets to spend many happy years giving introductions like, “This is my husband, Finrod,” [points at charming blond professional Hero] “and this is Finrod’s boyfriend, Beor.” [points at octogenarian, also charming]

[thegrimreaper-probably]

Sad story ahead!

Steve Harrington x dying reader.

Summary: The mall scene! Reader and Billy are half siblings bc Neil cheated on your mom with Billy’s mom. Steve and you are dating

Warning! Talks about seeing ghost and bunch of trauma. This does talk/ imply that you were suicidal! Talk is that in the song says suicide in your arms tonight. Implying that you didn’t care about dying. (Which neither do I but I don’t know if that suicidal)

Based of the song Arms Tonite by Mother Mother

“Y/N!” I yell as she block Billy from the Mind Flayer. I run over to her and ignore everything.

“Y/n?” I hold her body in mine as she’s covered in blood.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you’ll be okay. We’ll get out of here.”

“Steve-.”

“Shh save your energy.” I take my shit off and try to stop the bleeding.

“Baby I’m not gonna make it. Please just keep Max safe.”

“Don’t talk like that.”

“I know Billy can but just help him.”

“Billy needs you. I need you!” She pushes the shirt off and I hold her back in my arms. I know she right but I don’t want too.

“I know but at- least I died in your arms.”

“No your not.”

“I love you.”

“Please- what about all the promises we made?” She kiss my cheek with the last of her strength.

“Please I need you.” She smiles sadly and her eyes get tired.

“Y/n I love you too.” She slowly falls limp in my arms as I hug her closer.

“Y/n?” Max asks as tears run down her face as she holds Billy’s body. She screams and Lucas holds her tight as both her step siblings were died.

Steve finally found out why you hated your dad. He was abusive to you and Billy. The dick had tried to sell your guys stuff. Steve bought it all and made sure Max had gotten whatever she wanted from you guy. At the funeral where your mother came to see you for the first time scene you moved here.

You never said your feelings on her but Steve thinks it would be anger now. Your mother was beautiful looked a lot like you which broke his heart even more. Yet she left you with Neil which if she maybe just hadn’t you’d be alive right now.

The worst of all was he still saw you. The funeral you and Billy had been sitting with Max as she cried. He saw you with Billy never alone. A constant reminder as to why he blamed himself.

Then it seemed everyone but him and Max moved on. Dustin was friends with Eddie Muson who now everyone thinks is a murder. Which at first he thought the same, but Vacna or whatever had been killing people. Which now he’s trying to get Max.

“Max please just listen to me.” I say as put batteries in the walker.

“Steve I don’t need you.” She grabs the walker and walks off.

“Max I need to do it for us.” I stand in front of her way.

“I can do it myself!” Max had problems with anger just like Billy. So did Steve but your problem was not caring about death. Not caring what happened to you as long as everyone else was happy. Some sad twisted joke life had on them.

“Max just let me-!” Suddenly I wasn’t in the house. I was at the mall with you.

“Y/n!” I run to her and hug her.

“I fell hard in your arms that night, it was nice. I died in your arms that night. I slipped through into the afterlife, It was nice. White light in your arms that night. I lost sight in your arms that night, It was nice.” She says and breaks the hug.

“Wasn’t so nice for me.” I say angry.

“Hey, you, don't you think it's kinda cute? That I died right inside your arms that night.” Y/n says.

“Y/n I know this isn’t you but I can’t live without you.”

“Really? Because I cried in the afterlife. I cried hard because I have died and you're alive! I tried to escaped the afterlife, I tried hard to get back inside your arms alive.” As she yelled she become bigger and more demonic.

“I don’t want to die with you upset at me. Please?”

“That I fell hard in your arms. I went and died in your arms that night. I fell in your arms tonight. Suicide in your arms.”

“I’m sorry.”

“That I'm fine even after I have died because it was in your arms I died.” Suddenly I’m back home. With everyone screaming as tears stream down my face.

“No- no- no.” I mumble over and over.

“Harrington no what?” Eddie asks.

“FUCK!” I throw a vase at a wall and everyone jumps back.

“You saw her, didn’t you?” I fall down the wall and hug myself and rock. I sob and sob till I feel a hand.

“It was nice.” I look up to see her and whimper.

“Stop it!” I yell at her.

“Steve? Who are you talking too?” Dustin asks.

“STOP TORTURING ME! STOP IT!” Max then hug him as I watch. Billy holding me with a sigh.

“I hate this.” I mumble out.

“I know.” He says.

“I can’t help him. I can’t hold him. I can’t kiss him.” I start to cry.

“Shh.” He says as he rubs back.

“Billy I can’t do this anymore.”

“Hey. Look at me.” I take my faces off his shoulder and look at him.

“We’re gonna make it through this, together. Just like we’ve always said. We’ll move to Cali when your ready. We can go ghost surfing or something. Steve and Max are going to be okay, it takes time.”

“Their just turning into us Billy. Steve doesn’t care about himself and Max has all this anger.”

“It takes time.”

“How much time Billy? Because we died because of it!”

“N/n I don’t know but just trust me on it.” He holds me as I sob with Steve.

“Steve I’m sorry.” Max says after hours of me sobbing and yelling.

“It’s my fault. If I didn’t tell her back then.”

“I think about it everyday but Y/n and Billy were so close. I don’t think she would live without him.” She says leaning into me.

“How do you do it?” I ask after a pause of silence.

“Do what?”

“Not cry everyday.”

“I like to think there in heaven surfing on a big beach. They’re probably just alone but are so happy. They can be free now. Free from Neil, free from this place, free from the monsters. But I know y/n sad, she misses us. She probably watches you and feels so bad. Bad that she caused this pain, bad that she couldn’t have been stronger, bad that she broke the person’s heart that healed her own. Though Billy’s with her, cheering her up. Telling her it takes time and he’ll be better soon.” She’s says as sits up.

“When we were at the funeral. I saw them, together. They had sat down with you, hugging you and I keep seeing them. I don’t know which ones are real or fake or even if I’m going crazy.”

“Do you see them now?” I look at Steve at the small sliver of hope.

“No.” I shred a tear and whimper as I fall into Billy’s arms.

It’s short but mm I kinda like it.

[autumnalwalker]

Empty Names - 4 - Prince In Gold

Author's Note: The last of the four character intro chapters, although Sullivan technically showed up in Chapter 2. Previous chapter here. Masterpost here. Word Count: 4,447 Content Warnings: Some brief allusions to violence that occurred in the past, but no details about it.

<-Previous Chapter Masterpost Next Chapter->

Sullivan examines the riesling resting in its glass on the table before him.  He’d always thought white wines were misnamed.  Yellow, or even better, gold, would be a far more fitting description.  Alas, he can no better change that ill-fitting naming convention than he can get drunk off the beverage before him, as much as he’d like to do both right now.  Either one would make this reunion easier.  

But since buying up vineyards and restaurants just to change the terminology on menus would be a waste of resources and taking a drink before his friend arrives would be poor form, he contents himself with leaning back into the richly upholstered chair and gazing into the chandelier above while he listens to the music from the band behind him.  It is a lovely little piece; a sonata that some two-centuries dead Frenchman left unfinished until the restaurant’s owner conjured up his ghost to complete it.

The band’s just reached the fourth movement where the stylistic shift from the composer’s death becomes obvious when Sullivan catches a glimpse of purple and green out of the corner of his eye approaching the table.

“You look comfortable,” a voice he’d recognize anywhere says.  

“An ambience such as this is worth basking in,” he replies before turning to look at his friend standing next to the table wearing a sleek purple and green dress.  “You look nice.  Been a long time since I’ve seen you in a dress.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had both the desire and the occasion,” his friend says as they - no, it’s she tonight - takes her seat across from him.  More than the dress or her words - less reliable indicators than most would think - it’s her voice that clues Sullivan in.  A subtle brightness of resonance and twisting of inflection that he doubts most others would pick up on.  

“And I see you still insist on wearing that same hideous vest as always,” she continues.  

“No, this one’s gold.  You’re thinking of the dandelion one.  Or maybe the ochre.”

“It’s all the same pattern though, just different shades.”

“And it’s a lovely pattern, isn’t it.  I’m considering wallpapering one of the guest bedrooms with it.  What do you think?”

His friend laughs.  “Only if you want to drive whoever tries sleeping there mad.”

“I’ll take that as your seal of approval then.”

“Don’t you dare,” his friend says, suddenly serious and glaring at him from across the table.  

“Oh, I dare,” Sullivan says as he meets her gaze.  

The two of them stare in silence for a solid minute before bursting into laughter in near unison.  Not that any of the other restaurant patrons can hear.  Privacy is part of the service here.  

The laughter dies down and Sullivan wipes a nonexistent tear from his eye before saying “It’s truly been too long, my friend.”

“It really has,” she says.  Her smile fades and her gaze wanders off for a moment before continuing, “But really though, I’m glad you agreed to meet with me.  I hate to say it, but with how we left things off, a part of me worried you wouldn’t.”

Sullivan leans back in his chair and shrugs with a practiced nonchalance.  She doesn’t need to know that stung.  “Eh, you always were the one person I could never hold a grudge against.  And besides, I said some shit that night I shouldn’t have either.  Innocent’s not something I’ve ever claimed to be, so no point in starting now.”

His friend lets out a breath that sounds like it’s been held for years.  “That means a lot.  Thanks.”

“That’s not to say you weren’t way more out of line than I was that night, but that’s water under our bridge now.  You made your apology already when you said you wanted to meet and this,” he gestures to the table and their surroundings, “is mine, so I don’t want to hear any more about it tonight.”

“Fine by me.  I’ll admit, this place is decadent even by your standards.  I’m almost afraid to see the menu.”

“I’ve taken the liberty of already ordering for the both of us, so that’s one fear you can lay to rest.”

“So you have,” she says as she reaches for her drink.  She takes a sip and looks up.  “Water in a wine glass.  My favorite,” she says without a trace of irony.  

“I trust that the rest of the meal will be to your liking as well, if a bit exotic.”

“So it won’t still be wriggling when it arrives.”

“Yours won’t,” Sullivan says with a toothsome grin.

“Apology accepted then.”  

The conversation trails off as his friend takes his earlier advice and basks in the ambience.  The band members’ hair has collectively lit on fire and their instruments have all turned into smoke, but none of them seem particularly perturbed by this.  At the next table over, a couple with blurred out faces are plucking star-filled black orbs from a porcelain tree and popping them into what are presumably their mouths, causing another glimmering mote to appear in their shadows with each fruit consumed.  A waiter golem trundles over to Sullivan’s table and lays out soups served on glyph-inscribed plates whose liquid hangs suspended above in shifting geometric shapes.

“I can see you spared no expense with these reservations,” his friend says while spooning off a corner of her soup.

“What can I say?” Sullivan replies.  “When I said to get out of my sight I wasn’t expecting you to go off-world for years.  So now we’re celebrating your return.”

“Didn’t you just say-”

“You know I’m a hypocrite.”

“Utterly incorrigible.”

“Thank you.  Also, the owner’s a close acquaintance of mine so I’m not paying for any of this.”

His friend raises an eyebrow.  “Another ex?”

“Ex’s brother.”

“Not mutually exclusive for you.”

“Touché.  But enough of me,”  Sullivan leans forward resting his chin on interlaced fingers.  “You finally find anyone while you were gallivanting about the cosmos?”

His friend answers with a short syllable of a laugh and a dismissive wave of the hand.  “You already know the answer to that one.  No, I just did the usual while hopping worlds every time I felt like I needed to clear my head.  The variety was nice though.  Picked up a few souvenirs.  Eventually I wound up on Dorbreith for most of my travels.  It was… refreshing… to be back somewhere ‘adventurer’ is an acknowledged profession.  I even signed up with a local guild for a stint.”

“My, my.  Finally thinking of putting down roots are you?”

“Well actually…” his friend stretches out the word while making a face somewhere between playful and embarrassed.

“Nooo.  Really?  Congratulations!  You always did seem more at home on worlds like that.”

His friend laughs, more genuinely this time.  “Close, but not quite.  After spending time with the guild, getting to know everyone, seeing the camaraderie, learning how they organized, witnessing the good they were doing, it got me thinking.  Why not set up my own adventurers’ guild here?”

Sullivan stares at his friend for a moment before collapsing back into his chair, arms at his sides.  “I take back my congratulations.  You’re insane.  That or you’re joking.”

“Oh, come now, I’m serious.  It could work.”

“There are so many reasons it can’t.  Social, economic, logistical, cultural, oh and as you alluded to yourself, ‘adventurer’ isn’t a real job here.”

“I’d argue it’s an unmet need.  An untapped market if you’d prefer that term.  I don’t but,” she gestures to the opulence around them.

“Void Without, you really mean it, don’t you?”

“Of course.  This might be an anchor world, but it’s a relatively loose one and there’s all sorts of things going bump in the night that would normally be handled by adventurers - whether they’re called that or not - elsewhere.  Gods know it’s been enough to keep me busy in the past.  The real difference here is the various powers that be are content to let things sort themselves out so long as it’s not technically a Masquerade breach.  But you and I both know how much room that leaves for innocent people to get hurt.”

“Nice speech.  Practice it long?”

“Sullivan!” His friend pauses and takes a breath.  “Look, what I’m proposing has precedent here.  I can think of three different witch covens that provide similar protection for their local local regions, and while most monster hunters are a bunch of rugged individualists even they tend to have a loose social network and a couple formal orders.  Not to mention most major cities having at least one paranormal detective agency.  This would just be a little wider reaching and recruit a more diverse skillset than those organizations.”

“All fine in theory, but how are you going to pay for it all?  Where are you going to operate out of?  How are you going to find jobs?  Hells, how are you going to find recruits?  No one around here signs up for dangerous work for the sake of adventure or heroism, and it’s not like there’s much chance of fame and glory with the Masquerade.”

“Crossherd has a theoretically infinite number of perfectly good empty buildings we can set up in.  As for finding jobs and payment, I figure the same way as any other adventurers guild does.  If anything it’ll be even easier with this world’s internet.”

“Bullshit.  You and I both know you’ll refuse to take payment from the first sap that shows up at your door with a half-convincing sob story and you’re too nice to take money off a normie who won’t even remember you saving them the next day.”

“We could always make a deal for funding from Backstage organizations.  Convince them that this will be better in the long run for anchoring.”

“Did you want to protect people or do you want to start a normalcy org?  Because that’s how you start a normalcy org.  We’d be better off with me bankrolling it, classifying the venture as a charity group, and filing the investment as a tax write off for my on set holdings.”

“We?”

“There’s no reality you don’t try to recruit me for a big scheme of yours.”

“I’ll admit, you were at the top of my list.”

Sullivan leans forward once more and smugly raises his eyebrows.

“But I wasn’t going to ask for your money.  I can make this work without it.  I just want you.”

“I know you weren’t going to.  And if you were anyone else I’d call this an obvious ploy to guilt me into volunteering.  But here’s the thing,” Sullivan puts up a finger.  “One, you’re not anyone else.  Two, I’ve always made a habit of indulging your whims like a spoiled princess.  Three, since I married Carnette I’ve had more money than I know what to do with.  Four, I’ve been terribly bored lately.  And five, it’s going to be much more entertaining for me to see what you get up to with proper funding than to watch you struggle to manage a business.  So,” he flourishes the now fully-open hand, “you’re getting me, and my money, whether you want it or not.”

His friend smiles and shakes her head in long-suffering exasperation.  “I can’t argue with that now, can I?”

“I literally won’t let you.”

“Oh rea-”

“Nuh-nuh-nuh,” Sullivan cuts her off, “I said ‘literally’ and I meant it.”

This gets a chuckle out of her.  It’s been too long since Sullivan’s heard that sound.  A sound of old times.  Perhaps the past few years apart for them both to cool down truly was for the best.

“Fine, you win this round you, old rogue,” she says.

“I always do.”

“Only because you cheat.”

“And I say again, touché.  But anywho, who else is on that list you mentioned?”

“A monster hunter I’ve worked with in the past a couple of times.  Goes by Eris.  We worked fairly well together and she seems to be in it for the thrills rather than the money, so I’m expecting she’ll be a good fit so long as she doesn’t go off the deep end with the danger seeking.  She’s got one of the most dramatic cases of autogenesis I’ve seen going on too.  Practically superhuman strength and durability.”

“Sounds fun.  Who else?”

“That’s all I’ve got so far.”

“Short list.”

“Shush, you.  I’m thinking two more for this founding proof of concept party.  So, five counting us.  I want to keep the number prime, and while three and seven are plenty auspicious, three’s too few for” she pauses ever so slightly, “what I have in mind, and seven’s more than I feel comfortable trying to lead just yet.  I do want to keep anyone we bring in local though”

“And what do you have in mind?”  Sullivan cocks his head.  Realization dawns.  “You have a job already lined up don’t you?”

“Maybe.  Not quite.” His friend looks around the room and leans in.  “I’ve got a potential lead on something that I tracked back here before losing the trail,” she whispers.  “It might be nothing, but if it’s not, it could be big.”

“How big?”  Sullivan whispers back.

“The sort of thing we always talked about as kids.  A proper quest.  Real world saving stuff.” She glances over her shoulder again.  “I know this table’s got a privacy ward, but I trust the ones at your place more.”

“So, that’s the real reason for all of this,”  Sullivan says as he sits upright.

“More the impetus than the reason,” his friend says, no longer whispering.  “I was sincere about everything else I said - about the guild and about wanting to make up with you - regardless of whether that particular subject turns out to be anything or not.”

Sullivan suppresses the urge to sigh.  The urge to comment about how she’s always endearingly, infuriatingly sincere about everything.  Everything outside of certain topics.

“Do you want my advice?” he asks instead.

“You’d give it even if I said no, but yes, go ahead.”

“For those other two recruits, you’re obviously going to want a proper spellslinger for one, but for the other, get a tech guy.”

“Like a hacker?”

“Sure, if you want to call it that.  Doesn’t have to be anyone with combat experience, just someone who’s at least moderately computer literate so that I don’t have to hold your hand again like that time I had to set up an email and forum account for you so you could track that hate group whacko passing out defective demon summoning rituals to normies.  Seriously, it’s embarrassing how bad you are with that stuff.”

His friend makes noncommittal noise at that last comment before saying “It shouldn’t be too hard to find someone like that in Crossherd with all the paratech companies these days.  The mage will be harder to come by if we want to stay local.  You know how anchor world mages are.  Either their part of a coven or order and don’t want to leave their insular group, they can barely make spark, or…”

“Or they’re arrogant pricks powered by sheer ego who take it as their due that reality itself bends to their whim,” Sullivan finishes for her.

“Yes.  That.”

“I think I might have you covered there.  There’s this wizard that showed up around the same time you left who was born here but trained off-world.  I haven’t met him myself, but he sounds like your type with the wandering hero bit and no-killing policy.”

“Color me intrigued.  What’s his name?”

“Ashan Glassheart.  I’ll track him down in a few days and tell him you’re recruiting.”

“Wonderful.”

The conversation trails off into silence.  It suddenly hits Sullivan that his smile right now isn’t a mask for once.  When was the last time that happened?  Probably back before Carnette was gone.

“I really am happy you’re on board with this,” his friend says, interrupting his train of thought.  “It wouldn’t be the same without you.  I was worried… No, we agreed not to talk about that anymore tonight, didn’t we?”

Slow to find his words for once, the waiter golem arrives to serve their meal  - one entree fully cooked, the other still writhing - before Sullivan figures out what to say to that.

“And now the real reason for the evening,” he jokes instead.

His friend reaches for her glass instead of her fork.  “I was thinking we might make a toast first.”

“I do love a good toast,” he says.  “But shall the subject be?  To new starts?  To happy reunions?  To foolhardy ventures?”

She smiles and shakes her head.  “To spoiled princesses and incorrigible rogues!”

Sullivan laughs and clinks his glass to hers.  “And to the assholes they grow up into!”

*******

The labyrinthian halls of Bridgewood Manor are dimly lit at night by flickering blue-white flames bereft of both smoke and heat; tamed into regularly-spaced sconces and trained to ignite when approached and extinguish when left behind.  The result is a system delightful in its needless complexity, like so many of Carnette’s creations.  The lighting used to be brighter and more even but, like so many of Carnette’s creations, Sullivan still hasn’t figured out how to maintain it properly without her.

This is how he spends his nights, in lieu of sleep, in a bubble of light drifting through dark corridors.  Or at least, how he spends his nights when he’s at home and not out diving headfirst into whatever hedonistic pit he can find.  Some nights these walks have a purpose.  Mapping architecture that no longer shifts at its mistress’s command.  Identifying the hidden passages she never got around to showing him.  Finding ways into rooms she left locked.  Other nights the walking is an act of meditation.  Step after step, focusing on the void outside the bubble of light, and clearing his mind.  It’s not sleep, but it’s close enough.

Every so often he turns through a door and into a room and cuts through it to another hallway that geometry would have demanded intersect with the first had not the sorceress Bridgewood once said otherwise.  The portrait room.  The lesser library.  The skull room.  He’s halfway across the verdant drawing room (as opposed to the xanthous drawing room or the aquatic drawing room) when he notices his friend asleep on the moss-green couch.

Sullivan freezes, not wanting to wake them, but their eyes flutter open a moment later all the same.  Had he made more noise than he realized, or was it the glow of the fireplace coming to life with his entrance?

“Hey Su,” they mumble with a voice still groggy from sleep.

“Hey,” he whispers back.  “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Is fine.  Not that asleep anyway.”  An obvious lie.

“We have plenty of real beds around you’re welcome to use, you know.”

“Mhmmm.”  They slowly shake their head.  “Never could get used to ‘em.”

The corner of Sullivan’s mouth curls up into a faint smile at old memories.  “Right.  I’ll let you get back to sleep,” he says and then turns to leave.

“Su,” whispers the voice behind him.  He stops and turns back around.  “Since you’re here, can you tell me a story?  Please.”

“Sure thing.”  He takes a seat on the floor leaning against the couch, one leg outstretched while the other makes an arch to rest arm on knee.  He looks up at his friend and asks “One of the classics?”

They shake their head.  “Something I missed while I was away.”  Their voice still sounds half-asleep.

“I’m afraid there’s not much to tell there.  It’s been pretty quiet here lately.”

The light from the fireplace reflects off pleading eyes.

“Well, I suppose there was one thing,” Sullivan concedes.

“Oh?”

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.  He breathes out and stares into the fireplace.

“It was a couple weeks after you left,” Sullivan begins, “and with you and Carnette both gone I wasn’t taking it well.  No, don’t apologize, I’ve moved on.  Anywho, I hit a point where I needed something, anything, to get my mind off it, if only for a night.  So I called up Lucinda to see if she could set me up with a gig on short notice to blow off some steam.”

“Lucinda?”

“My old fixer.  Little old lady.  Hair looks like it used to be red.  Vampire.  I think you met her at the wedding.”

“Sounds familiar.”

“Thing is, I hadn’t seen her since the wedding either and she wasn’t answering my calls, so I decided to go drop in on her in person.  She shot me.”

“Rude.”

“Eh, I was in her house uninvited, and she’d just climbed out of her coffin for the night.”

“But what if it hadn’t been you?”

Sullivan shrugs.  “Guess they would have died.  But I just told her the bullets normally get shot at me after she gives me a job.  In light of my comedic genius - you had to be there for the full effect of the delivery - dear old Lucy graciously forgave my unannounced visit and presented me with the predicament that had kept her up all day.

“Apparently some punk kid of a mage got her hands on the staff of a long-dead wizard and was going around calling herself the second coming of Morgan le Fay or some shit.  The kid was a useless newbie, but the staff itself packed enough of a punch for her to set herself up as Crossherd’s newest cult leader and wannabe mob boss.  The powers that be wanted this nipped in the bud before it got to be a real problem - especially if the kid started buying her own con and autogenesis kicked in - and my lovely Lucinda of the immortal wrinkles had been running herself ragged the past week trying to find someone who could take care of the problem with minimal collateral damage.  It was exactly the sort of outlet I’d been looking for and I volunteered to do it that night without pay.”

“How heroic.”

“That’s me, a proper saint.  And saint that I am, I got straight to the miracle working.  You see, this kid and her punks were holed up on the outskirts of Crossherd proper, right around where the buildings start getting all fractal and distorted, and the warehouse they’d picked out had a ward around it.  Classic bubble shield, strong in its simplicity, but with no visible circle powering it and way bigger than even a veteran battle wizard could sustain for more than a few seconds, much less some rank amateur.  So, the staff was definitely legit, although Void knows where this kid found it.

“But, as I said, miracle working.  You know I’ve never been a mage myself, but I did pick up a few tricks from Carnette that I’d been itching to try out.”  A predatory grin creeps across Sullivan’s face at the memory.  “Melted a hole through that bubble like a lighter to plastic wrap.  After that I flipped my vest inside out on the off chance anyone inside saw me and stepped on through.”

“Vest?”

“One Carnette got me.  Has some xenocolor I can’t remember the name of sewn into the inner lining that screws with memory.”

“Know it.  Purple but not really.”

They would know it, but Sullivan continues on instead of commenting.  “Security was pretty light after that.  Rookie mistake relying on solely magic to keep unwanted guests out.  Still, I was in the mood for some fun and climbed up to the roof.  For once Lucy didn’t have any intel on the inside, so I figured if I started at the top and worked my way down I’d find this wizarding wannabe eventually.  Turns out the place had three levels of basement and she was at the very bottom, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

“So, there I am crouching on the rooftop, looking down through a malformed skylight at a crooked catwalk over a warehouse floor full of crates that probably came with the building when the first unlucky sap of the night walks under me with a gun in one hand and a phone in the other.  Just the sort of appetizer to get the fun part of the night started.  I cracked open the window, pulled out a knife, and waited for him to get in position.  I was about to do the dumbass a favor really, putting him out of his misery before he could accidentally shoot himself in the foot with that sloppy trigger discipline.

“But then I had one of those annoying little bouts of conscience you’ve worked so hard at giving me.  A real ‘what would my friend think?’ moment.  Irritating, but hey, it was a chance to test out another new trick.  My own concoction of venom to coat the blade with that’d be night night for anyone that got so much as a prick.  Let me know if you want it instead of a bedtime story sometime.  So, with henchman number one upgraded from victim to test subject I dropped down, gave him a little paper cut on the cheek, and he was falling over before he even finished turning around.  I caught him so he wouldn’t make too much of a ruckus tumbling off the catwalk and splattering on the floor below, laid him down, took his gun, and continued on my merry way.  After that…”

Sullivan trails off as he realizes his friend has fallen back to sleep.  That’s fine.  They didn’t really need to hear about how he spent the night stalking and picking off everyone in the building one by one when he could have easily snuck past them.  Maybe he could have spun it as giving them all a scare that would get them rethinking their life choices when they woke up the next day - and the thought of them all waking up to the terror of finding they’d all been knocked out by an unseen assailant did amuse him - but the truth was he did it because it was a fun power trip.  Nor did his friend need to hear about the cyborg in the basement he had to disassemble because the guy didn’t have enough meat left in him to poison.  And the less said of what happened in the end with the kid and the staff the better.

Sullivan never did like lying to his friend to give stories clean and happy endings.

Quietly, so as not to wake them, he gets up to continue his nocturnal pacing.

“Goodnight my friend,” he whispers from the doorway, “and may you sleep without dreams.”

<-Previous Chapter Masterpost Next Chapter->

[my-weird-news]

😂 12 Hilarious Office Memes to Brighten Your Workday! 🤣

When Work Becomes a Circus 🎪 Isn't it just wild to think we could have a world where we're all sipping coconut water on a beach, but nooo, we're stuck juggling spreadsheets in this crazy work culture instead. 🏖️🥥 Work, my friends, can be a real beast. I mean, who needs an alarm clock when your boss's emails can give you heart palpitations? But hey, if you're ready for a chuckle between those conference calls, brace yourselves for these uproarious work memes! Time Warp: 7 Hours = 7 Minutes ⏰ Imagine, you stroll into your office, park your behind, and dive into the email abyss. Suddenly, it feels like you've aged a century, but in reality, it's just been seven minutes. 😱 That guy in the meme? His face is like a Picasso painting of a worker bee who's slaved for hours only to realize it's barely snack o'clock. Karen vs. The Manager: A Tale of Equine Wisdom 🐴 Ah, the Karen, that mystical creature that prowls in stores, demanding to see the manager. But guess what, horses have cracked the code! They've shown us the hoof-stomping truth: when Karen corners the manager, it's like ordering a pizza with extra karma—same response, different toppings. 🍕 If only we could neigh our way out of customer conundrums! Endless Meeting, Enter That Guy 🗣️ Ever been trapped in a meeting that felt like a never-ending accordion solo? Finally, you see the light at the end of the boring tunnel, until that guy pulls a verbal rabbit out of his hat, and suddenly time implodes. Now that's a disappearing act no one asked for. 🎩 Zen and the Art of Nature Vacuuming 🍃 Let's talk about the art of looking busy when the boss hovers by. This meme? It's a masterpiece! A woman vacuuming nature—because nothing says productivity like tidying up the great outdoors. I bet her resume says "Mother Earth's Personal Housekeeper." 🌍 Death's Grin and The Great Escape ☠️ Work blues got you wondering what life's all about? Well, this meme says death's a big upgrade, ‘cause you'll never need to face a spreadsheet again. The happy cadaver's smile says, "I’m free from meetings and memos!" 😄 Remember, folks, even death seems more appealing than Excel sometimes! When Work Multiplies Like Gremlins 🧟‍♂️ Picture this: you slog like a champ, only to discover your reward is more work. Surprise, it's the job version of getting a second pet gremlin that comes with zero instructions. 😩 Our man's hidden expression mirrors the reality of working, where hard work's treated like a buffet—everything's piled onto your plate. Faxes in a Time Machine 📠 Ever been asked to send a fax in the era of smartphones and AI? It's like asking a hamster to fix your car. But some folks still cling to their fax machines like they're the golden ticket to job security. This meme’s here to make us wonder, "Do these fax lovers also send carrier pigeons?" 🐦 The Couch Potato of Corporate Chaos 🍿 Behold, the dude chilling as the office combusts around him! This is the face of someone who warned everyone that a clown car couldn't fit through the door, but no one listened. Now all he can do is grab popcorn and watch the circus. 🤡 The Pun-slinging Office Hero 🦸‍♂️ Who doesn’t love a good pun? This guy’s a master of cheesy office banter. It's like a marathon of punchlines in a 3-second sprint. Bet he can turn any dull meeting into a stand-up show, complete with laughter sound effects. 🎤🎵 Friday's Freedom vs. Monday's Mess 🎉🧹 Friday's here, and you're mentally moonwalking out of the office. Papers fly like confetti; you're the mess-maker extraordinaire! But hold on a second—Monday isn't exactly your cleanup crew. You're the superhero that left the city in chaos, only to return as the janitor. 🦸‍♂️🧼 The Great Workplace Hypocrisy 🕰️ Ah, the workplace double standard, where staying late goes unnoticed, but sneezing five minutes late gets you the "Come to my office" death stare. This meme's the spotlight on that twisted reality, like catching your reflection in a funhouse mirror—it's amusingly warped. 🤪 So, there you have it, a world where work's a circus and the memes are your popcorn. Remember, even when life hands you spreadsheets, you can always turn them into comic strips! 🎪🍿🤹‍♀️# When Work Becomes a Circus 🎪 Isn't it just wild to think we could have a world where we're all sipping coconut water on a beach, but nooo, we're stuck juggling spreadsheets in this crazy work culture instead. 🏖️🥥 Work, my friends, can be a real beast. I mean, who needs an alarm clock when your boss's emails can give you heart palpitations? But hey, if you're ready for a chuckle between those conference calls, brace yourselves for these uproarious work memes! Time Warp: 7 Hours = 7 Minutes ⏰ Imagine, you stroll into your office, park your behind, and dive into the email abyss. Suddenly, it feels like you've aged a century, but in reality, it's just been seven minutes. 😱 That guy in the meme? His face is like a Picasso painting of a worker bee who's slaved for hours only to realize it's barely snack o'clock. Karen vs. The Manager: A Tale of Equine Wisdom 🐴 Ah, the Karen, that mystical creature that prowls in stores, demanding to see the manager. But guess what, horses have cracked the code! They've shown us the hoof-stomping truth: when Karen corners the manager, it's like ordering a pizza with extra karma—same response, different toppings. 🍕 If only we could neigh our way out of customer conundrums! Endless Meeting, Enter That Guy 🗣️ Ever been trapped in a meeting that felt like a never-ending accordion solo? Finally, you see the light at the end of the boring tunnel, until that guy pulls a verbal rabbit out of his hat, and suddenly time implodes. Now that's a disappearing act no one asked for. 🎩 Zen and the Art of Nature Vacuuming 🍃 Let's talk about the art of looking busy when the boss hovers by. This meme? It's a masterpiece! A woman vacuuming nature—because nothing says productivity like tidying up the great outdoors. I bet her resume says "Mother Earth's Personal Housekeeper." 🌍 Death's Grin and The Great Escape ☠️ Work blues got you wondering what life's all about? Well, this meme says death's a big upgrade, ‘cause you'll never need to face a spreadsheet again. The happy cadaver's smile says, "I’m free from meetings and memos!" 😄 Remember, folks, even death seems more appealing than Excel sometimes! When Work Multiplies Like Gremlins 🧟‍♂️ Picture this: you slog like a champ, only to discover your reward is more work. Surprise, it's the job version of getting a second pet gremlin that comes with zero instructions. 😩 Our man's hidden expression mirrors the reality of working, where hard work's treated like a buffet—everything's piled onto your plate. Faxes in a Time Machine 📠 Ever been asked to send a fax in the era of smartphones and AI? It's like asking a hamster to fix your car. But some folks still cling to their fax machines like they're the golden ticket to job security. This meme’s here to make us wonder, "Do these fax lovers also send carrier pigeons?" 🐦 The Couch Potato of Corporate Chaos 🍿 Behold, the dude chilling as the office combusts around him! This is the face of someone who warned everyone that a clown car couldn't fit through the door, but no one listened. Now all he can do is grab popcorn and watch the circus. 🤡 The Pun-slinging Office Hero 🦸‍♂️ Who doesn’t love a good pun? This guy’s a master of cheesy office banter. It's like a marathon of punchlines in a 3-second sprint. Bet he can turn any dull meeting into a stand-up show, complete with laughter sound effects. 🎤🎵 Friday's Freedom vs. Monday's Mess 🎉🧹 Friday's here, and you're mentally moonwalking out of the office. Papers fly like confetti; you're the mess-maker extraordinaire! But hold on a second—Monday isn't exactly your cleanup crew. You're the superhero that left the city in chaos, only to return as the janitor. 🦸‍♂️🧼 The Great Workplace Hypocrisy 🕰️ Ah, the workplace double standard, where staying late goes unnoticed, but sneezing five minutes late gets you the "Come to my office" death stare. This meme's the spotlight on that twisted reality, like catching your reflection in a funhouse mirror—it's amusingly warped. 🤪 So, there you have it, a world where work's a circus and the memes are your popcorn. Remember, even when life hands you spreadsheets, you can always turn them into comic strips! 🎪🍿🤹‍♀️ Read the full article

[cheesysaggychick]

Truman Got It Wrong

 (A Kabataan Essay)

Imagine being the main character of your own story. Your life has already been planned out from the day you opened your eyes. There are cameras watching your every move and directors that will dictate how you live based on the writer’s script. You don’t have any real friends because everyone around you is an actor hired to follow the flow of the plot. Even with the food that you eat, the soap you use to bathe, the toothpaste you brush your teeth with, they are all from the sponsors to keep your life running for people’s entertainment. Basically, you don’t have to worry about anything. You just have to live your life stress-free and hassle-free! Nope, this is not a movie, nor it is an advertisement. Breathe in, breathe through, breathe deep, breathe out. So..what do you think?

At the ripe age of 15, I had the world in my hands…at least it seemed like it. I am doing great in my academics, I am thin, I’m closer to my friends than I have ever been, and I even have a boyfriend. Whaaattt? Sounds like I only need to be mean and have everything pink to be Regina George. Meh. My Kopiko 78 would be an insult to possibly her sweet tea with artificial sugar and some berries in her glittery pink cup. That day was a normal Thursday. No, it was not. It was our 4th quarterly examination, and Math and Science are all on the same day. I was psyching myself that I did good in the Math examination I had just finished. It was trigonometry. Nobody understands trigonometry, right? Since when did Math have kites you solve and diamonds you find the function of? Math has never been my favorite. If only this was a movie, I would not care. I would be wearing my chucks instead of the hurtful black shoes, sleeves rolled up, piercings blinding my teachers’ eyes, sporting a massive hangover due to the endless partying the night before yet I would still be able to pass all my exams because I’m the main character!

In a blink of an eye, people were suddenly breaking records saying

“Saraleo”, 

“Raikantopeni” 

and even 

panties fell for Sara--Ti--Sara... I don’t know who for, Tine or Sarawat. You choose. (editors note: not me rewatching 2gether while editing this for the vibes)

I am so confused, I thought I was on a different planet. The Boy’s Love industry has suddenly taken over the world, specifically, my world. The world is on lockdown, which I don’t even know what that was about. What’s a lockdown? Isn’t that what they do in zombie movies when patient zero gets loose? Since we have nothing better to do with our spare time, people really said “since you are so deprived of any romantic stuff right now, why don’t we watch two actors play as a couple, right?”. People is me. 

Well, that was toxic. Obviously, there are always two sides to the coin, which is in this case, the bad and the worse. The first is straight homophobic actors benefiting from the roles they have as homosexual characters. Secondly, the toxic “delulu”, a slang for delusional fans who treat the acting as real. Also, it has become a trend for BLs that year to have sexual assaults as the major plot or the twist of the story. Still, I waited every Thursday for the new episode of 2gether. I know, I’m a hypocrite. Am I? But imagine being in those series, experiencing tropes like enemies-to-lovers or fake-dating, and the wonder of all tropes, the friends-to-lovers. Ahhh, if only. 

With nothing more left to do, I scrolled through my phone for the nth time. It had been my greatest companion during this time of isolation. As I clicked on Facebook and scroll through posts, everyone seemed to have been productive. It was #fitnessgoals, #quaranthings, #lockdownbody. 

I suddenly became self-conscious. So, I broke up with my boyfriend. Random? Yeah, I know. I didn’t know people have been doing all these “healthy” things, meanwhile, I have been punishing myself with all the junk that I have been consuming. 

The following day, I immediately got my phone and typed Chloe Ting for the first time in a long time. (The only clickbait I knew yet I still clicked anyways)

The more reps I’m doing, the more desperate I was getting. Slowly, I am getting lightheaded and started rethinking my life decisions. Why am I doing this again? I know it’s not to build my own endurance, gain muscles, or lose fat. I still don’t know until now. All I know is that people liking you is equivalent to your liking yourself, and I have seen society kinder to skinnier people than those of my size so, I guess I just answered my own question. 

Honestly, for years I really thought I was fat, I knew I was. At least that is what was etched in my mind, by my family, and my relatives, I was even bullied for it. I hated the sight of measuring tapes, fitting rooms, and even weighing scales. Now looking back to my pictures before, I really wasn’t. But people were not nice, so what was that about? I feel like I had to be the nice and funny one because no one dislikes the nice one, right? 

So, I starved myself. Yes, I know, it sounds dumb but that’s what I did. For months and on, I did that, and guess what happened? People stopped looking at me with their judgments peeling my skin off like a chemical peel. If this were a movie, I would just need a friend who “knows it all”, then one day just walks into school, hair falling, skinny waist, thick booty, and a miracle glow-up that even my closest friends will not recognize me.

Speaking of glow-up, I… was obsessed with my hair. And what do you do when you are obsessed with something? You kill it, right? 

So, I chopped it, 

then chopped it again, 

and again all on my own, then for the fourth time, I finally went to the salon. 

Obviously, people 18 and below are not allowed to enter the mall so I showcased my oscar-winning acting skills. After chopping my hair for the millionth time, guess what I did. 

I bleached it, then bleached it again, then again, and again, until I finally dyed it, and dyed it again, and again, and again. By then I have more roots than hair. Honestly, I felt so much of a badass entering that Teams chat with different hair colors every week. Again kids, what do you do when you are obsessed with something?

You kill it.  I have witnessed people who feel superior to others kill because of differences. I have seen people die due to the corrupt system the country is still built on. I have seen people fail just because their own government betrayed them and neglects their rights. I have seen people surrender because however loud they scream, they plea, they are never heard. 

Why is it that the most valuable thing which is life has become so easy to be stripped of now? Killing has become as normal as breathing. Dying has become a great escape. Failing has become what was expected. Surrendering has become the end for all the hopeless. We have been so obsessed with how people live their lives that we don’t even recognize our own issues. We don’t try to learn for the sake of unlearning. 

But, if these were all in a movie, I would make it as if death is not the end. But I told you from the beginning, nope, this is not The Truman Show, nor it is an advertisement. You are not Truman nor you are Regina George. You worry you stress, you hassle. Comfortability is a privilege. Like art, its meaning lies deep within, but one remains, art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable. We cannot afford to be nonchalant as our time is limited. 

Yes, our life is a story, but like any other story, it will eventually reach its end. The moment we open our eyes, it is unjust to ever close them again. There will be judgments, not cameras watching your every move. There will be prejudice, not the director that will dictate how you live your life based on what your parents demand. There will be strangers who will snake you and bite you which will make you fall. Finally, you will have everything that you ever need, and yet still have nothing at the same time. 

Breathe in, breathe through, breathe deep, breathe out. Although it was all for a show, at least it was perfect, right? Truman Burbank was wrong. So..what do you think?

[malleux]

chapter one — “a dream come true”

-> vil schoenheit x fem!reader

-> chapter warnings: death threat, body image issues, cursing

edited on 5/2: specified gender in header

table of contents ; taglist

“It’s a gift. For you. A way to thank you for everything you’ve done for me in the past. You’re the- the best friend I could have asked for.”

“Luke, I don’t even know what to say…”

“Don’t say anything, then. It’s a dream come true, isn’t it? I remember you saying you’d always wanted to go to this diner and I’d been saving up to finally be able to go-“

“CUT!”

You flinched, at both the loud, obnoxious voice of the director and at how suddenly the pale hands that rested upon your cheeks ripped themselves away, as if your skin was made of fire.

The owner of said hands looked at you in what was obviously distaste- maybe even disgust. Hate.

Whatever the word was, your co-star was feeling it.

Becoming an actress really was something like a dream come true, ironically enough. You had looked forward to it since you first figured out what an actress was. It was like the universe simply knew that this was your calling. Everything about acting made you happy, except for one little thing.

“Y/N, you have got to keep eye contact with me during that scene. It’s ridiculous how many times I have to tell you that. You look like you’re scared I’m going to kill you or something.”

One little thing. Vil Schoenheit, your co-star.

According to every magazine and news outlet around, he was the best thing to ever grace Twisted Wonderland.

According to you, he was a pain in the ass.

“Why is eye contact necessary?” You huffed, taking a sip of your water bottle, “It’s not an intimate scene- my character is excited and looking at the scene. We’re not even near those parts yet. We don’t have to look at each other. Unless… you want to look at me?”

“I’d rather look up my dead great grandmother’s asshole. It’s hell enough having to be around you during work hours, much less actually having to act like I’m in love with you.” Vil scoffed.

Your life was definitely like a dream.

A bad, one.

Was ‘nightmare’ too strong of a word? Night terror?

Certainly not.

“You’re lucky I even agreed to film this with you. Do you know how many brand ambassadors and directors are trying to get into my pants? They love to get the new girl who’s the talk of the town in their ads.”

“It’s more like weight loss brands trying to get you into a smaller pair of pants. Don’t think so highly of yourself, you’re still a tiny little minnow in this big sea.” Vil stepped closer to you, a single, perfectly manicured finger lifting up your chin to meet his eyes. “Every single person is a predator ready to attack a sweet, innocent thing like you. They’ll beat you down and destroy you until you do nothing left but petty commercials and charity work to even hope to grasp at the chance of becoming relevant again.”

You suppressed a small gulp. Vil, no matter how annoying, was quite intimidating. The perfect monster to plague your nightmares.

His gaze pierced into yours for a few seconds longer before his lips upturned into a small smile. He let you go. “Look, that’s the eye contact I wanted! Keep that in mind for when we finish the scene later.”

You scoffed as he walked away. You really couldn’t even say anything- he was right.

The acting industry was a brutal one. It would wear you down until you were a shell of your former self, people pointing out how you’d lost the light in your eyes that shone brightly in your earlier films, or how you’d seemed to age much more in the past few months than you had in your first 18 years of life.

They said that about Ellen too. You couldn’t become the next Ellen. Fuck Ellen.

Filler after filler after filler was how most celebrities kept their appearance. But Sevens, even then, botox and fillers tend to go downhill. Have you seen some of the older followers of the Beautiful Queen? She literally invented plastic surgeries and facial reconstructions, and yet people took her creations and ruined them. It honestly seemed like everyone in the show-business had their appearance- or life- ruined one way or another.

Your eyes trailed over to Vil, who was sitting in his chair, allowing an artist to touch up his hair and makeup. Slight jealousy stung at your heart. He was so… effortlessly beautiful. The artist barely had to do any makeup on him, for he had no ill spots to cover. His hair always seemed to stay perfectly in place. No need for any extra work to be done when you already look like a God.

He had the right to judge others. He was physically perfect, after all. And you…

You were not.

His entire world revolved around his looks and talents. They got him whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. You were lucky enough to land this role.

“Okay guys, the crew and I have been talking, and we’ve come up with a better idea.”

You quirked an eyebrow, standing up to join Vil and the directors as they called a rather sudden meeting.

“This set? Boring. Hate it. It doesn’t resemble a school at all like what I’m imagining, and it’s really putting a damper on my mood. So I got to thinking, ‘What could possibly make this set more realistic?’ and then I got it! My mind is so brilliant.”

“Sir, you weren’t the one to come up with this idea-“

“Shut it, Reginald. I’ll fucking kill you.”

There was a beat of silence before the director clasped his hands together delightedly, as if he hadn’t just nearly bit the head off of one of the interns. “There is a wonderful school in Twisted Wonderland, and we are lucky enough to have one of our actors as a student there!” The director beamed, looking directly at Vil. “I talked to your headmaster, Crowley, and he was more than happy to let us continue filming at Night Raven College! Filming starts next week!”

Vil’s eyes widened in shock, and you both seemed to speak out at the same time.

“What the fuck?”

Your life was a nightmare, indeed.

┎┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┒

taglist: @animclarinerd @simp-for-fictional-character @mymybirdie @littlemintsister @justrei

┖┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┚

[cjsinkythoughts]

It’s All in the Perspective

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 4491

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Gun Violence, Minor Character Injury, A Peek at Angry Bucky, Explosions (if that’s a warning), Mentions of Stevie (I really miss him, guys)

A/N: So! Here it is! Part 4.3! After long hours of laboring and slaving away - kidding, kidding. I had a bit of trouble with this part, not gonna lie, because there’s a lot of feelings I wanted to try explaining. To do that, there’s a little sort of twist at the end that, once I decided to put in, made the chapter much smoother to write. I wasn’t happy with it at first, but now I’m satisfied.

There’s a lot of things happening in this one; it’s longer than I had anticipated because of the little snippet at the end I added. It’s got a few scene-for-scene things, but I kinda blew past it just to get to the characters’ emotions and stuff. Plus writing action like the shipping yard scene is hard when you’re not focusing entirely on that scene, which I wasn’t.

You’ll notice that the last little bit with Ayo (the Wakandan) isn’t in this. That’s because I couldn’t really find a way to fit it in and I’m assuming it will fit in better with next week’s episode.

Not beta’d, so please excuse any mistakes! Thank you wonderful people for reading and commenting! I enjoy hearing your opinions and what you like about the show and the series! Enjoy the final Part for Episode 3 and stay tuned for an announcement tomorrow about the One Shots I’ll be doing in relation to this series!

FATWS MASTERLIST

cjsinkythoughts MASTERLIST

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

You and Bucky kept sneaking glances at each other as you walked through the dock, weaving between the different colored shipping containers with Sharon leading the way. Every time you caught his eye, his ears turned red and he looked away, scanning your surroundings. Not that you were any better, immediately turning away when he turned your way.

You almost kissed him. Fuck. You couldn’t let that happen. He was your friend. Your teammate. He was the best friend to the man you fell in love with, who just so happened to be your best friend. Your best friend who left you. Your best friend who you promised you would watch out for Bucky. 

Bucky…who you also fell in love with. Whether or not it was because of Steve, the fact of the matter was: you loved him. You loved both of them. And you’d never loved anyone like that before. And one left. And the other was trying to navigate through his shitty life. And you weren’t any better. Which is why, you decided in that moment, that no matter how much you wanted to - and holy shit did you want to - you wouldn’t pursue. 

Yet. Maybe. Ugh! When did feelings become so complicated?!

When you started having them.

You silently grumbled to yourself, shaking your head clear. You had to focus and be in the moment. Now was not the time to sort out what to do about the suddenly rising emotions towards the cerulean eyed brunette currently burning with you with a gaze you refused to return.

“Alright.” Sharon stopped, making the group stop as well. “He’s in there. Container 4261. I’ll keep an eye out while you guys talk to Nagel. But hurry; we’re on borrowed time.”

You each grabbed one of the earpieces she held in her palm, slipping it comfortably in your ear. “I’ll stay back with you.” Sharon went to talk, but you cut her off. “I’d feel better knowing it’s not just you out here.”

She pursed her lips, before nodding. “Alright. If that’s what you want.”

“Doll-”

“I’ll be fine, Buck.” You insisted, checking your gun to make sure it was loaded. Bucky stayed quiet, nodding in begrudging acceptance.

You and Sharon headed off as the boys went towards the storage unit. “Just like old times, huh?” Sharon raised an eyebrow at you.

You grinned, shoving your gun in the thigh holster she let you borrow. “Let the good times roll, babe.”

“Absolutely.” Sharon winked, before you two split up to cover more ground. It wasn’t long before Sharon announced company and you took off sprinting in her direction.

You got to her just as more thugs approached her from behind, immediately lunging into action.

“Hey, so, we never finished that conversation!”

You grunted as you roundhouse kicked a guy, hooking your knee over his shoulder and pulling him to the ground by the neck “Really?! You wanna do that now?!”

“Sure! I’m not too busy!”

You rolled your eyes at her reply, seeing her knock a guy unconscious before she turned around to knee another one in the face. “What were we talking about?”

“Why’re you holding back?”

“It’s complicated!” You elbowed a guy in the ribs, flipping him over your shoulder and twisting his arm till a sickening crack sounded.

“Because of Steve?!”

“Yes - no! Kind of!” 

Sharon was on the floor choking a guy out as you slammed a guy’s head into a shipping container, pushing him at another guy. “You loved him didn’t you?! And I mean, like in love with him!”

“Who?!” You laced your fingers around the back of his head and brought his face down onto his knee.

“Director Fury!” You gave her a look which she snorted at. “Steve, you dumbass! Who else?!”

“Yeah! No shit I was in love with him!” You ran up the side of a storage unit to do a backflip and land on some guy’s shoulders, choking him out. Before he fell, you rolled off, tripping a guy in the process and elbowing his throat.

“Well at least you’re admitting it now!”

You were hit in the back of the head, thrown into a wrestle with another guy on the ground. You bit his hand, making him cry out, before you headbutted him. 

“You couldn’t even hear his name without having to remind people you were ‘just friends’!”

“We were just friends, Share! You know that!”

You heard her shoot of a gun a few times as you smacked someone in the back of the head with the butt of your gun, trying to save ammo. “You really never did anything about it?!”

“No!”

She glanced at you incredulously from across the way, bodies now littering the ground. “And you don’t regret that?”

“No.” You sighed at her look, relenting. “Yes. Kind of. I dunno. I mean…he’s happy with his decision, and for me that’s enough.”

“But doesn’t it hurt?”

“Of course it hurts. It hurts like hell. But-”

“But you still have him so it’s all good.”

You bit your lip, shrugging. “Something like that.”

Sharon tilted her head, confused. “So why don’t you tell him?”

“I dunno. I don’t think either of us is ready.”

“C’mon. I saw you two earlier. You should’ve just kissed him.”

Rolling your eyes, you frowned when you noticed something missing. “Ah shit. My ear piece. It must’ve fallen out earlier.” You looked around, but Sharon stopped you, nodding her head between a couple shipping containers. 

“Don’t worry about it. Mine broke a little while ago, too. Let’s go get the guys. Tell them we need to leave.”

You nodded and started running with her to the unit Nagel’s lab was in. You followed her around the corner, only to widen your eyes and shove her out of the way. Two gunshots rang out, Sharon catching the guy right between the eyes, while the man’s bullet grazed your shoulder.

“Ow, fuck.” You hissed, hand immediately going up to clamp your wound.

“Dammit! You shouldn’t have done that, you idiot!”

You gave her a look. “You’re welcome.”

Rolling her eyes, she quickly tore off part of your shirt. “Hey!”

“First off, this is my shirt. Second, I’m just making it more of a crop top. Third, it’s your own fault, so quit your whining.”

“Touchy touchy.” You grumbled, wincing when she tied it around your arm.

“Just come on. And hey,” she turned to you as she sprinted with your wrist in her hold. “My advice? Don’t wait. Seriously. I know it must be weird, the whole he’s his best friend, he was your best friend, now he’s your best friend, thing you’ve got going on, but there’s nothing else stopping you. Steve made his choice. And he’d be fine with whatever you choose as long as you’re happy.”

You shook your head. “But Bucky’s still healing-”

“So? He’s already been on dates. I think you’re just using that as an excuse to protect your heart from hurting again. Trust me; Barnes isn’t going anywhere.”

Not able to respond since you were making your way to the guys in Nagel’s lab, you bit your lip, hating that she got the last say in the conversation. She definitely planned it so she would. “We’re outta time, fellas.”

As if things couldn’t get worse Zemo - that fucking snake, you knew he was gonna do something stupid - took out a gun he got from who knows where. You sure as hell didn’t let him have a gun. Before you could stop him, he shot Nagel, your best, your only, lead.

“Goddammit!” You growled as Sam and Sharon restrained him. “You fucking-”

The explosion came next, again happening faster than you could react. Bucky grabbed you and pulled you underneath him, covering you with his body as glass and metal flew around you. With ringing ears, you groaned, squinting your eyes open.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

You were vaguely aware of the alarms going off, a red light blinking behind Bucky’s head. You nodded, his worried eyes softening just slightly at your response. “We gotta get out-”

“I know, I know. C’mon.” He helped you up, eyes catching sight of the makeshift bandage on your arm. “Dammit, what did you do?”

“I’m fine.” You pushed his hands off. “Go help Sharon. We’ve gotta move. Now.” He huffed, but nodded and moved over to get Sharon. You tried to see where Zemo went through the smoke, but he was already gone.

You four made it just before the whole thing combusted due to the chemicals in the lab. So much for any evidence or leads.

The moment you got out, you were thrust into a gunfight, rolling your eyes as Bucky and Sam, once again, did their own thing.

“Are they always like this?”

“Usually it’s worse. Wait until they start arguing about who was right.” Sharon gave you an unamused look to which you nodded at, ducking when a bullet whizzed by you. “I know. It’s so annoying.”

Sure enough, when Bucky ran out of bullets, the bickering commenced, making you huff and Sharon shout at them. “Are they serious?”

You shot a few more bullets before your gun started clicking. “Dammit. Unfortunately.”

“I’m out!”

“Me too!”

Another explosion and a person you couldn’t see clearly through the haze caused a distraction for you guys to get away, Sam practically shoving you and Sharon into an open shipping container as Bucky took care of a couple more bounty hunters.

“What happened? Both of your comms went out.” Bucky growled once he came in behind you, grabbing your forearm to study your wound.

“It’s just a graze. Chill your ass down. I lost my earpiece and Sharon’s broke.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, his voice low with warning. “What. Happened.”

“We rounded a corner, the guy was there. I shoved Sharon, he shot, she shot, I got hit, he’s now dead. Happy?”

“You promised.” He snapped, finger tightening on your arm. “You said you’d save yourself first.”

“Buck, let go.” Grabbing his wrist, you tugged a bit, wincing slightly. “Seriously. Stop. That hurts.”

He blinked, his features slacking and his fingers immediately dropping your arm. “Doll, I-I…fuck.” He turned to go punch through the back wall to get out of the unit you were in.

Before you could respond and tell him it was fine, the Baron himself drove up in a slick blue convertible. You groaned at Bucky’s response to Zemo. “We need him.” God, you were getting tired of hearing that.

“You’re lucky I don’t bash your head in.” You growled at him. 

“If you try that shit again-”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Sam raised an eyebrow when Bucky got into the passenger’s seat with no hesitation, looking at you. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but you shrugged and slipped into the back with Sam. Bucky and you always took the back seat. You had ever since the dumb little blue car Steve got.

You hugged Sharon in parting, knowing she couldn’t come with. “Hey.” She looked at you sternly. “Take a leap.”

“We’ll see.” You told her, sitting down and buckling.

“Do better than that, Y/L/N. And get me that pardon you promised me.” She told Sam, pointing at him..

“Thanks for everything.” She nodded, before jogging off in the opposite direction you’d be heading. Sam turned back to the front, an annoyed expression crossing his face. “You’re not gonna move your seat up, are you?”

“No.”

You snickered as Sam shot you a glare, Zemo starting to drive the car out of the shipping yard, away from the chaos.

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

You collapsed onto the seat in front of Bucky, leaning onto the knee he had propped up against the back. He glanced up at you, face blank, before looking back down at his metal hand he was cleaning.

“Here. Let me see-”

“I got it.” He grumbled, shifting away from where your hands reached for his.

Your eyes widened, stunned at his reaction. “Bucky, just let me-”

“I said no, Y/N.” Your name. Again. You can’t remember him calling you ‘doll’ since before the shipping yard explosion.

“Are you okay?” He merely grunted. You straightened off his leg, swatting his knees with the back of your hand. “Hey.”

He shifted again, planting his feet on the floor. “Stop.”

“No.”

He shot you a warning glare. “Y/N-”

“Stop calling me that.”

“It’s your name, isn’t it?”

“What is wrong with you?” You scrunched up your features in confusion and concern. “Is this about my arm? I told you it’s fine.” You got no response except his eye flickering to your now properly bandaged shoulder. “Why are you acting so weird?”

He shrugged. “I’m not.”

You scoffed in disbelief, jaw dropping. “You’re not.”

“Nope.”

“Fine.” You stood up, brushing your legs off, the bare skin having splotches and smears of dirt and dust. “If you wanna be like that, go ahead. Brood. Be a child. When you’re ready to talk to me about whatever the hell is bothering you, like an adult, I’ll be in the back room.”

You only took two steps before he called out for you. “Doll.” You turned around, an expectant look on your features as you crossed your arms, shifting your weight to one foot. He looked up at you nervously, before looking down and picking at the metal plates of his hand. “I got scared.”

Your features softened, your head tilting gently. “Scared?”

“When you stopped talking. You and Sharon…you were talking. But both of your comms went down around the same time and I…it scared me. I-I don’t get scared anymore. Not the way I did when your voice stopped. I didn’t mean to hurt you…” His voice got quieter at the last sentence, his eyes looking to the purple handprint on your forearm.

“It was an accident, Buck.” You reassured him, settling back down in front of him. “It’s fine. You were still reeling it in from the bar. I know it’s hard for you to judge your strength like that. Steve had problems like that too.” You looked down at the rag he was holding, putting your hand out.

He licked his lips, before handing you the rag. You got off the couch to shift so you were sitting between his legs, his chest to your back. Holding his metallic hand between both of yours, you set to work, gingerly wiping away the grime, picking at the filth that wedged itself between the plates.

“He,” you chuckled, shaking your head at the moment you were remembering. “He accidentally gave me a concussion once when we were sparring. At first it was awesome; he got me my favorite take out and took me to the movies and all that. But then he just started getting annoying. Wouldn’t even let me reach for the TV remote on the coffee table a yard away.”

“Can I ask you something?” You hummed, tilting your head slightly when you felt his chin hooking on your shoulder, giving him more room. “How long did you love him?”

Freezing, you raised an eyebrow and turned to face him. “What?”

“You and Sharon. When you were talking…your comms were on.”

“How-” You swallowed thickly, a lump suddenly forming in the back of your throat. “How much did you hear?”

“Yours went out right after you admitted you were in love with him. Hers went out after you said you were just friends.”

Holding in a sigh of relief, you went back to cleaning his hand. “I don’t really know exactly when it happened. After the Battle of New York, maybe. So 2012, I guess? I dunno. I was getting up from falling for him, though. A few years later.”

“Was?”

“I - yeah. I kind of…fell again.”

He hummed, leaning back, taking his chin off your shoulder and unwinding his arm from your waist. “He’s an easy person to fall for. Hell, I’m pretty sure I had a crush on him once upon a time.”

You chuckled at that, raising an eyebrow over your shoulder at him. “I never said I fell for him again. But, yeah. You’re right.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “You like someone else?”

“It’s…complicated.”

“Oh…” He cleared his throat as you went back to his hand. “Uh…so you don’t still love him? Steve, I mean?”

“He was the first person I really loved, Bucky. A part of me will always love him.”

Bucky fingers twitched in your hold, the fingers on his other hand tapping against his thigh. “You know…he loved you too.”

You sighed, closing your eyes. “Don’t do that.”

“It’s true-”

“He left, James. If he loved me, why would he leave?”

You could feel his hesitation as his next words left his lips. “I-I dunno.” That was a lie. You could hear it in his voice. If there was one person Steve trusted more than you, it was Bucky. Of course he knew.

“Listen, I really don’t want to talk about this-”

“It’s in the notebook.” You bit your lip as Bucky shifted, pulling out the little notebook from his pocket. “He made lists - he liked lists. He made lists of things you said that made him laugh. Songs that reminded him of you. Little quirks you do that he noticed over the years. He missed you every time you went on a mission and prayed you’d get back safely.”

“James, please-”

“He didn’t want me to let you know. But I had to tell you. You have to know. He loved you.”

You let out a shaky breath as he placed the book on your thigh. You stared at it for a moment, before grabbing it and placing it in his left hand, closing his fingers around it and standing up. “I think…I’m gonna go rest for a bit in the back room. Holler if you need me.”

You didn’t wait for a response, moving quickly to the small back room of the plane which you got dressed in only a couple days ago. It only had one arm chair and instead of a door there was a curtain, but you were fine with that, plopping down in the chair and reclining.

Why? Why would he bring that up? Did he hear more than he said? Was he trying to let you down easy before you could even tell him how you felt? Did he get spooked after dancing? After the almost-kiss?

You never thought of Steve in the wrong. After all he’d done for the world in his life, he deserved to be selfish - to be happy. And Peggy gave him that. But why? Why would he leave if he loved you so dearly? If he really did what Bucky said? He wouldn’t. He’s not cruel. He wouldn’t up and leave, without even saying goodbye, knowing how deeply you loved him and feeling the same about you. This was Steven Grant Rogers for crying out loud! He wouldn’t…right?

But Bucky…he wouldn’t lie to you. He wouldn’t tell you that, especially knowing how much you missed the lovable blonde. And you knew his words held at least some truth. Actions spoke louder than words, and as something Bucky said repeated itself in your mind, you started slipping into a memory, your eyes shutting and your breaths evening out.

“He missed you every time you went on a mission and prayed you’d get back safely.”

~

The incessant knocking made you groan, shouting that you were coming and mumbling curses. You barely threw open the door before his worried voice hit your ears. “Are you okay? Were you hurt?”

“Stevie.” You sighed, rubbing your eyes and looking over at the clock on the wall. “Bubs…it’s two in the morning. I just got back, like, an hour ago.”

He shuffled, pink lips in a pout, eyes round and distressed. “I know, honey. I know. I’m sorry. But I heard you got hurt-”

You shook your head, a small giggle of amusement leaving your lips and you lifted your right hand, letting him see the black split holding your ring and pinky fingers. ��I jammed my fingers in a door. The doc said I’ll be fully healed in a month at most.”

His eyes darted across your face and down your body, scanning for any more injuries. After glancing at your hands again, they finally landed on your eyes once more. Next thing you knew, you were being held against his chest, his face in the crook of your neck. You hummed softly, running your fingers down his spine, moving the two of you deeper into your apartment so you could shut the door.

“Don’t ever do that again. I gotta have faith in something and if you come home hurt, it’ll be crushed.”

Your eyebrows knit together. At his strange wording. “What’s that mean?”

“It means you have to promise me you’ll stay safe, honey.” He pulled back and held your face between his hands. “Please.”

“I can promise I’ll try my best.” You teased lightly, smiling at him and booping his nose, making him grin, although it was strained. “Why don’t you stay here tonight? We’ll turn on some TV in my room and you can keep me safe while I get much needed sleep.”

That made his grin relax into a real one, his head nodding in agreement. “Sounds perfect.”

“C’mon, bubs.” You took his hand, leading him to your room. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and you’ll catch some zzzz’s too.”

~

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

“What the hell was that?”

Bucky turned to Sam, who was gaping at him in utter disbelief, looking from the assassin to the doorway Y/N just walked through. “She needed to know.”

“Buck, she’s been dealing with some shit. And we both know something’s going on that she isn’t telling us. Her “zoning out” isn’t just zoning out, and we know that. She doesn’t need you confusing her even more.”

“Confusing her?”

Sam blinked, his troubled expression falling into a deadpan. “Are you fucking with me? No. There’s no way you’re that naive. Seriously?! Man, c’mon!”

Bucky scrunched up his face. “What?”

“She likes you, man! Everyone knows it!”

The brunette shook his head, forehead creased. “No. No, you heard her, Sam. She’s in love with Steve.”

“Was in love. As in past tense.”

“But-but she said- she likes someone else-”

“Barnes!” Sam threw his hands up, exasperated. “You are someone else!”

“I thought you two were already-”

Bucky pointed warningly at Zemo. “Watch it. Wait, wait-” He turned back to Sam. “But I heard her-”

“Bucky…man…” Sam sighed, shaking his head. “Listen, I can’t tell you everything. I’m not about to break my girl’s trust like that. But you gotta hear me when I tell you she likes you. What do you think almost happened at the party?”

“She - I - it was…an accident?”

Sam spluttered, eyes wide. “An accident? You two grinding and nearly making out was an accident?!”

“Woah! We were not…grinding-”

Zemo hummed. “Hmm…you kind of were.”

Bucky glared at him. “Thin. Fucking. Ice.” He whipped back to Sam. “I just remind her of him.”

“What?! That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard! You remind her of Steve? Yes, granted your both dumbasses, but she knows both of you enough to know there’s quite a few big differences.”

“Wilson-”

Sam held up his hand, shutting Bucky up. “You like her. Yes or no.”

Bucky huffed, looking down at the hand she was holding only minutes ago. “Yes.” He finally relented. “Since the first couple months in Wakanda.”

“Steve liked her. Yes or no.”

He ran a hand through his hair, nodding his head. “Yes. Yes he liked her. I wasn’t lying about that.”

“So explain something to me.” Sam crossed his arms. “Why is it that Steve isn’t here, and you are?”

Bucky crossed his arms, brooding - although he’d never admit it - while staring out the window. “Steve…knew. I liked her. And, yes, he loved her, but he also loved Peggy. So he…”

“He told you to take your chance with Y/N, and he went back to be with his first love.”

HYDRA’s former fist nodded with a sigh. “Something like that.”

“You need to tell her.”

“I can’t.”

Sam groaned. “Why not?!”

“Because!” Bucky took a breath, trying not to shout and alert the sleeping girl in the room over, his ears tuning into her slowed heartbeat to make sure she was okay. “Because Steve has her heart, Sam. The whole thing just…I’m jealous of him. Because he got her first. And then I get mad because he didn’t do shit about it. And then I feel guilty because all the shit he put up with for me and here I am complaining…and then I just get…depressed because he’s not here. I used to be the one who fixed his problems. But after I got out…he’s been the one fixing mine. And I just…I don’t know what to do.”

Sam shook his head, rolling his eyes. “I get it. That’s valid. But stop whining and moping around about it. It happened. And you need to get your shit together. If not for your sake, for hers. Because she lost him too. And she’s probably feeling those exact same feelings.”

“But…she’s his girl-”

“No. She’s not. He made his choice.” Sam nodded towards Bucky. “Now you gotta make yours,  Buckaroo.”

He shot him a glare. “You can’t call me that.”

“Why not? Y/N calls you that.”

“Y/N has a plan.”

“We both know that’s not true, Buckaroo. Hey! That one rhymed!”

Bucky shook his head with a scowl. “I will beat your ass, Wilson.”

Sam scoffed, shoving Bucky’s head playfully. “Stop being a dumbass and tell her. Buckaroo.”

“That’s it!”

Bucky tackled Sam to the ground, Zemo giving them an amused expression before leaving to talk to Oeznik. They were so wrapped up in their wrestling session, they didn’t notice the woman leaning against the wall, tired eyes barely opened as her eyebrows raised, unimpressed.

“Are you fellas done?’

They both stopped, shooting up when they noticed her. “Doll, I-”

She shook her head. “Don’t, Buck. Not right now. I’m just really tired.”

“Did we wake you?” Sam winced.

She shook her head again, yawning. “No. I just needed to use the restroom.”

Bucky couldn’t help the small smile as she rubbed her eyes, stretching her arms overhead, making that ripped crop top ride higher up. She was too cute. And she didn’t even realize it.

“Sleep well, doll. We’ll try to keep it down.”

She nodded, turning and waving over her shoulder. “You two try getting sleep, too, alright? Goodnight, Sammy.”

“Night, cher.”

“Sweetheart?” She peeked through the curtain, tilting her head slightly. “You know I love you, right?”

A small smile quirked up her lips, but it was sadder than the ones his question usually elicited. “As long as you know I love you.”

He nodded, returning the half-smile. “G’night, doll.”

“Goodnight, Buckaroo.”

[ptergwen]

you know that one scene in ffh when people keep knocking on the door while fury is trying to speak to peter? could you maybe do something like that but instead it’s peter and stark reader wanting some alone time (you can make it smut or fluff idm!) also, i am so in love with your work it’s amazing :)❣️

knock before you enter

w/c: 1.3k

warnings: implied smut, dirty jokes, swearing

a/n: i went a lil overboard because i was having too much fun :,) and i kinda combined the two i hope that’s okay!

-

you let out a breath of relief as peter finally presses his lips to yours. he grins at that, his hands continuing to roam your body while you kiss. it’s a needy kiss, one you’ve been waiting the whole day to share.

you’d thought europe of all places would give you the opportunity to explore each other more. you’re away from your overbearing father, you don’t have team responsibilities. there was one mishap with a water monster nearly destroying the city. you both managed to fight it off together. tony was right to make you bring your suit, and may encouraged her nephew to do the same. the stark’s and parker’s think alike.

most of the pestering you’ve faced this trip has come from your teachers and fellow classmates. whether it’s mr. dell assigning work or flash trying to film you two for a livestream, you and peter can’t get a moment alone. that’s about to change. you’re in peter’s hotel room after a fun yet highly supervised day in venice.

most kids are getting ready for bed, at mr. harrington’s request. he’s adamant on everyone having a good night sleep before the walking tour you’re taking tomorrow. you and peter plan to do everything but sleep, however.

“you taste like toothpaste,” peter mumbles against your mouth, arms winding around your back. “is that a good or bad thing?” you giggle and tug at his undone curls. that elicits a high pitched whine from him. “depends on who you ask. me personally, i think it’s sexy.” he’s laying over you on his bed, your fingers tangling in his locks. “open up, then,” you practically purr. peter happily obliges and resumes his kissing.

right when his tongue glides over your lower lip, there’s a knock on the wall.

“i thought you said ned wouldn’t be back…” your words trail off when peter starts to kiss down your neck. “for a while,” you add, softer. “he won’t. last time i checked, he was with betty,” peter replies and effortlessly finds your sweet spot. he nudges it with his nose, making a smile spread across your face. “ok, keep going,” you pull on the roots of his hair gently. peter pecks at your lips. “gotcha, baby.”

he’s kissing his way back to your sweet spot when there’s more knocking, this time much louder. with quirked eyebrows, peter detaches his lips from your skin. “um… hello?” he hesitantly answers. “finally. i was ready to come kick down your door, you idiot,” mj speaks through the thin wall. you squeeze your eyes shut in annoyance, not saying anything. “what do you want, mj? it’s late,” peter sighs back.

“so what? i know you’re not sleeping,” mj insists, leaning against the wall. “i can hear everything. hey, y/n.” peter’s face tints a light shade of pink. you make wide eyes up at him. “hi, i guess. you good over there?” her lips form a line. “i was until the horrendous sounds of parker clapping your cheeks disturbed my reading.” peter grips at your waist with a pout.

“what? we weren’t- i- i didn’t-“ “spare me the details,” mj sharply cuts in, opening whatever mystery novel she recently bought. “i don’t care what you do, as long as you do it quietly. deal?” seeing as peter is too flustered to speak, you take over again. “yeah, sorry. we’ll tone it down. goodnight, em.” “ciao,” she says before returning to her book.

peter shakes his head, fully burying his face in your neck. “that was embarrassing. she’s so…” “nosy,” you finish for him. your fingers brush back some hair that flopped over his forehead. “at least she’s not telling on us or whatever.” he puffs air out of his cheeks, placing a kiss under your chin. “true. you wanna pick up where we left off?” “ugh, yes,” you instantly groan.

your lips are colliding with peter’s again, just like that. it isn’t for too long. his hands settle on your stomach and under your shorts, then you hear someone banging on the door. they talk before either you or peter can tell them to fuck off.

“y/n, is that you?” brad questions, your face twisting in confusion. “uh, yeah. how’d you know?” peter bites the inside of his cheek while brad converses. “i stopped by your room. betty said you might be here… with him.” the him in question is peter, who chuckles bitterly. “what’s up, buddy? we’re kind of in the middle of something. i’m sure you knew that, too.”

“i didn’t, but thanks for sharing,” brad sarcastically responds. “y/n said she’d give me her notes on one of the da vinci exhibits.” peter cocks his head to the side. “she did?” he wonders, looking over at you. “you did?” “it was either that or help him myself,” you explain and drag your fingers along the back of his neck soothingly. “the kid doesn’t leave me alone.”

peter nods, wrapping a protective arm around your middle. “she’ll give you them tomorrow, brad. isn’t it past your bedtime?” “point taken,” brad scoffs and heads back to his room. you draw peter in closer to you. “thanks, pete. hopefully, that’ll be our last guest for the night.” he kisses both your cheeks with a grin. “where were we, mio amore?”

“ooh, i love it when you speak italian,” you giggle, peter cupping your face in his hands.“grazie, bellissima.” he winks and earns a puzzled face from you. “bellissima?” “that means beautiful.” instead of responding with words, you use your mouth to move on his. peter happily kisses back and lets your tongues intertwine. things quickly heat up, peter slipping your shorts down your legs and you lifting his pajama shirt.

you’re both only half undressed and running off broken up kisses, but so desperate. you part your legs for peter, his fingers hooking in the waistband of your panties. “think you can keep your oath of silence?” he teases and nips at your covered collarbone. “the real question is, can you?” you challenge. peter doesn’t get the chance to answer because the door suddenly flies open.

there stands ned, his mouth agape at the sight of a shirtless peter undressing you. you’re the first to notice. you see over peter’s shoulder and gasp. concern covers his features. “what is it, baby? do you want-“ “ned!” you whisper yell. his concern becomes shock. “you want ned?” “no, peter! he’s right there!” teeth sinking into your lip, you point behind him. peter looks and surely enough, there’s his best friend rendered speechless in the doorway.

“dude, what the hell are you doing here?” peter squeaks, you grabbing your shorts from next to you. he turns around to shield you while you put them back on. “aren’t you supposed to be with betty?” “we, um, finished,” ned gulps in response. “finished what- oh.” peter scratches the back of his neck as it hits him. “yuck, ned. a gentleman never tells.” “says you! this is my room too, you know,” he defends himself, you moving out from behind peter.

“and betty’s room is also mine. consider us even,” you hand peter his t-shirt with a satisfied smirk. he murmurs a thank you and throws it back on. ned uncomfortably shifts from foot to foot in the doorway. “that’s fair… are you leaving now?” “i should before mr. harrington makes his rounds,” you reluctantly decide. “i liked it better when people actually knocked,” peter says under his breath, standing to give you a goodnight hug.

“it’s not even this bad at home. i’ll take my dad and friday spying on us over a walk of shame any day,” you exhale as peter pulls you into his chest. hugging back by his torso, you give him an innocent kiss on the cheek. his lips brush your forehead. “maybe we’ll have better luck tomorrow. should we try again, same time?” a familiar and irritated voice yells through the wall. mj.

“please god, no!”

[floral-poisons]

love whisper

pairing: lilia vanrouge x gn! reader word count: 5k words warnings: violence, reader in distress notes: this fic takes place in my twisted wonderland high fantasy au. lilia serves as the eternal librarian of the emerald library. typically there is only one that is chosen. but in a strange anomaly, you have also been chosen to be a librarian for the library. the title is derived from the gfriend song of the same name and i wrote this with a slowed version imagined. also, um, consider this as like a celebratory gift for me finishing the bulk of finals? ao3 link: 📗📗📗

The small pond reflected the sun, allowing the clear water to shimmer. It was a nice day. Such days were rare to come across in the country of Diasomnia, known for its barren lands, stormy weather, and unnaturally green skies during certain times of day. Your fingers moved effortlessly as you weaved flower after flower into a crown. You admired your work, looking at the soft petals. White, pink, and yellow with a touch of green. Not your finest work but certainly better than before. A small sigh left your lips as you leaned back into the blanket you had laid out, letting the rays of sun hit your face. It felt nice, very nice. Days were rarely this night in the stormy kingdom of Diasomnia. “Nothing can ruin this.”

And suddenly, you heard the sound of horses, their hooves kicking up dirt and the grass. “It’s nothing.” Another noble probably ran away from their home to explore the outside when they weren’t supposed to (of course you knew since your best friend, Gil, did it all the time). Although the sound got louder and eventually stopped, replaced by footsteps instead. Your body tensed when you felt a shadow loom over you and you could no longer feel the soft touch of the sun. Your eyes fluttered open to see…Sebek Zigvolt? What was the captain of the royal guard doing here?

“(Y/N) (L/N), yes?” he asks sternly.

“Yeah. What business do you have with me?” There was no business to be had. It was a trick question. You were nothing more than someone who made flower arrangements for a living, liked to forage and bake in your spare time, and occasionally dabbled in books. Being a scholar was your dream as a child but as the circumstances of your finances came to light, that dream seemed less and less likely. Until it was just that. A dream. A false dream that was never meant to happen.

“You’ve been summoned by The Bell.” Sebek pulled out a piece of paper. “By Order of The Saints of Emerald, you have been chosen to become a Librarian of the Emerald Library.” He looks down at you. “Now get up.”

“Funny joke. The Emerald Library chooses one Librarian like, every 10,000 years or something. And there already is one.” You rolled your eyes until you felt two people tug at your arms. “Hey!”

“Let’s go. We have much work to do for you.”

— — —

“This is absurd.” You huffed, crossing your arms as you leaned back into the chair. The room you were in was pretty dungeon-like albeit without any chains or torture tools. Was the entirety of the castle like this? How depressing. Other countries had such fun, intricate palace designs too. Then again, Diasomnia couldn’t be good in everything. They had to have some weakness. “Very funny, you know. I get it. I get it.”

“This isn’t a joke. I don’t know why you think I’m joking.” Sebek huffs.

“Because it’s definitely to get back at me when I was a kid when I said I would become the next Librarian. I get it. It was a foolish dream.”

“It wasn’t a foolish dream.”

“Easy for you to say. Your family has money and you had a guaranteed position in the palace when you would’ve finished your training.”

Sebek sighs. “(Y/N), that’s not what I meant.”

“Sure, sure.” You put your hands up.

“But you need to take this seriously—”

“And there is the serious Sebek I know.”

“I mean it! Before you know it, the real deal’s going to arrive—”

“Oh like who? The Fae Prince?” You mock.

The door suddenly bursts open as if on cue. Sebek straightens his posture and you sit upright. You felt a chill run down your spine as the person’s steely gaze met your eyes. He was princelike with fair skin and purple-blue eyes that complemented his shiny silver hair. The long lashes framed his eyes in a dreamy way. Your breath stopped for a second as you looked at him. He was beautiful. Was this the prince? “I’m not the prince.” He says immediately after you have that thought. Your shoulders slump slightly in disappointment. It checks out though. No one has truly seen the Fae Prince’s face, aside from the Royal Scribe or the captain of the Royal Guard (aka. Sebek). Even those who have seen his face would never tell.

“Then who are you?”

“Silver, Royal Scribe.”

You could feel your mouth open in surprise. “Close your mouth.” Sebek scolds you. “It’s improper to gape.”

“Well why are you here?” It came out of your mouth before you could stop it.

Silver sits down across from you. “To record.” With a swish of his hand, a giant stack of papers appeared in front of him as well as a quill pen and ink.

“Record what?”

“Everything. Your life, your parents, your job. We must keep records of the Librarians.” Silver picks up the pen.

Your face immediately falls as reality begins to set in. “So…this is real?” Silver nods. “This…this is really real?” He nods again. “I don’t want to do this.”

“You must.”

“I don’t want to be holed up in a building all day for the rest of my life! It sounds like a miserable existence! Actually, scratch that. It is a miserable existence!”

“You have no choice. The Bell has chosen you. To defy the Order of The Saints of Emerald would mean exile.” Silver’s facial expression darkens. “From what Sebek has told me, I don’t think you can afford exile.”

You were barely making end’s meet as it was. Your job was only good during the good weather seasons and even those lasted for a short time. Furthermore, both of your parents had passed away and your uncle and aunt had stolen the fortune left for you, blowing it on themselves and your pompous cousin. You had nothing to go on. Plus, you weren’t well versed in travel. You hadn’t even really left beyond the small town you lived in (and now the Palace). To be thrown into a new country, suddenly, without any money or material possessions would subject you to a cruel life. “This is cruel.”

“Magic rules above all else (Y/N) (L/N). You know that very well. Do you dare test it?” Silver raises an eyebrow.

You slump back into your seat. “...No…”

“Good. Now, please tell me your name, your family name, and the magic you specialize in…” Silver begins to write, his hands moving fluidly to the sound of your voice.

“My name is (Y/N) (L/N)...” You tell him about your parents, give a brief backstory, and recall how they passed. “I specialized in…light magic…” You muttered.

Silver nodded along. “How impressive. Now, tell me your life story.”

— — —

“I never want to do that ever again.” You huff, arms crossed.

“You won’t have to.” Sebek mutters. The carriage ride was quite rocky. You didn’t understand how Sebek could still remain so straight as the carriage moved from side to side every few seconds. This is what happens though when you live in the mountainous region of Diasomnia. “We got everything we needed from you.”

“What are you going to do with that information? Rob me or something?”

“Archive you.”

Your face falls. “Archive…You can’t just archive me!”

“We can. And we have to.” Sebek sighs. “You know well that it’s part of the process to become a Librarian. I don’t know why you’re pretending you don’t know how this whole thing works.”

“Well excuse me. I gave up on my dream to become a scholar a long time ago! No money remember!” You huff. “The knowledge doesn’t serve me. So I replaced it for more practical knowledge.”

“Well you might as well touch upon the topic again since all you’ll be doing is looking at books.” The carriage finally stopped. Your home was a humble one made up of wood and stone, reinforced by magic so your roof wouldn’t catch fire during the common lightning storms. “You know what you have to do.”

“Yeah…I do.”

— — —

“Are you sure I can’t help you move in?” A frown appears on Gil’s face.

“Gil, that’s not how this works. You know it as well as I do.” You tucked the last book into a small blanket, tying it with a piece of fabric.

“Yeah but…It’s going to be my last time seeing you. Being Archived essentially means being socially exiled! To work for the Library!”

“A dream come true.” Sarcasm dripped from your voice. “I wish you could come. But when you’re a scholar, then come visit me alright?”

“Of course.” Gil walks out with you to the carriage and gives you a tight hug.

“Also your voice sounds great.”

“You think? I would like it to be a bit deeper. But I can’t take the stronger potions.”

“It’s a journey. And you’re almost there.” You smile. “Don’t stop, okay?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” They laugh.

“You better come do some research at the Library. I don’t wanna be left alone with a creepy old man.”

“I kind of doubt the current Librarian is a creepy old man.” Gil raises their eyebrow.

“How do you even know?”

“The Librarian’s name is Lilia I’m pretty sure.”

“That’s literally an old man’s name Gil.”

— — —

Great Seven, this was a depressing sight. The Emerald Library rested atop the mountain, which itself was surrounded by a wall of thorns. It was crystalline with a beautiful reflective surface albeit opaque. You could not peer into it from the outside. The material was a shimmering green color which glowed every time the green lightning from the sky struck it. For it being an institution of great scholarly knowledge, it was surely inaccessible. Probably on purpose, meant to keep people like you out. The carriage landed gracefully on the bridge across the entrance. You exited it, Sebek crawling out after you along with other members of the Royal Guard. “You ready?” He questions.

“Yeah…I guess so.” As beautiful as the library was, its towering structure made you feel like you were doomed. And in a way, you were.

Your boots made clicking noises against the ground as you walked into the Library. “Lilia-san! Lilia-san!”

You screamed when you saw a man suddenly come down from the ceiling. Was it even the ceiling? The shelves were so high that the darkness allowed them to blend with the ceiling. He lands perfectly on his feet, a black cloak billowing behind him. The inside of the cloak was a hot pink that matched the same shade as the hot pink in his hair. A pair of spectacles rested on his nose and the gold complemented his fair skin. He wore a black poet shirt tucked into matching color trousers and his hands were covered by black gloves. “Sebek.” He tilts his head to the side a bit, seeing you. “A stranger. You must be (Y/N) (L/N), yes?”

“How…How do you know my name?” You nervously whisper.

“Silver sent the documents about you.” Oh. So he already knew everything about you? To be fair you didn’t disclose everything to Silver but it still made you feel exposed. It also meant you had already been Archived. “You’re the new Librarian. What an anomaly. I should be dead by now.”

“But you aren’t.” Sebek tenses up a bit.

“Yes. But you,” Lilia turns to you. His red eyes stare you down and it makes you nervous, as if he’s about to pounce on you to kill you. “Being here must mean my time is coming to an end. A new Librarian is chosen only when the old one’s about to get fired by death.”

“You never know. The Bell is unpredictable.” Sebek asserts. It seems like he might be in denial at the idea of the man in front of you dying so you could replace him.

“Only once did two Librarians be chosen at the same time. Sappho and Lune. That story turned out terrible.” Lilia put his hands in his pocket. “It’s a once in a million chance. But let us not think about such things.” He looks at you. “We must get you settled. And then tomorrow we’ll start your training.” Not even a day to get adjusted to this giant place? “Oh is the Prince still going to come by and visit? It’s been some time since I’ve seen him.” Wait, the Librarian has seen the Fae Prince?!

“Yes. Thankfully, nothing has come up as of recently. So he’ll be coming by along with Silver.”

“Ah,” Lilia places a hand on his chest. “It’ll be nice to see all of my children again.” Children?! This man was a father? “I raised them.” He turns to you. “Since you look confused.”

“Well, maybe you can show (Y/N) to the living portion of the library.” Sebek looks up and you follow as well. It almost seemed as if the library was…breathing. “And we can move all the stuff in.”

“Of course. This will become your new home after all.” Lilia began walking and you followed. You didn’t notice that he glanced back and saw your face fall as your life outside was over.

— — —

“Great Seven, this is depressing.” You bury your face into the papers.

“It gets easier.” Lilia closes another book and opens another one. “You’ll get faster.”

“How many books have you gone through? Have you maintained and studied?” You look up at him.

“Well…70,362.”

“And I’m only at 690…”

“It takes time dear (Y/N).” Lilia set the books down. You’ve been training nonstop for the past month or so. Lilia was teaching you how to maintain the books since that was the job. Your brain was about to explode from how much knowledge you were absorbing. Your scholarly studies were never this intense.

“It’s not even that. This whole thing is miserable!” You wanted to throw the books at the wall. “I hate being locked up in here! How do you even deal with this?”

“You find ways.” Lilia pulled his glasses off. “To cope eventually.”

“Feels like it’s going to take forever.”

“Are you an outside person?”

“I mean, I made flower arrangements for a living. My specialty in magic is light magic.” You shoot a shot of light magic into the lamp since the light was beginning to dim again. “What else?”

“Not many people want to go outside. Though I can see how this would be your personal torture. But then again, didn’t you want to be a scholar?”

“This is not what I meant. I mostly meant research and adventure I guess.” You slump yourself down into the books.

“I guess that makes sense.” Lilia set his stuff down. “Let’s take a break.”

“Yeah. Let’s.”

“Do you want something hot to drink?”

“That would be nice.” You look down at the books you were maintaining. “A History of Thorn Fairy Tales. Why would this be helpful in any way?” You scoff. You stopped looking at the book upon hearing something. It was a gentle hum and it sounded…familiar. It sounded like the music you would hear in the village. There was a hint of a piano too. “What the—” You stood up, rubbing your ears. Surely you were imagining it, right? Except it was like an itch, lingering in the back of your head. You didn’t know where it was coming from. The seemingly endless darkness of the library only haunted you and added to the creepiness factor. You didn’t explore much but from what you have explored, this library was bound to give you nightmares and hold some unforgettable, scary secrets. This was one of the oldest institutions of scholarly knowledge on the continent, after all. There was also no one but you and Lilia in the library. After all, being a Librarian meant a life of solitude, dedicated to your life’s work as a scholar.

“Is everything all right (Y/N)?”

“Ah!” You turn around to see Lilia holding a tray. Resting on the tray was two cups of hot chocolate. Which, where did he get? “Hot chocolate?”

“Yes. It’s quite good.” He sets the tray down.

“But it’s expensive.”

“We have plenty of funding.” Lilia gives you your cup and he takes a sip. “A hot drink makes this life feel a little less lonely.”

“Does it?” You took a sip. It was good.

“At least for me it does. Most of my life was chaotic, hectic.” Lilia takes another sip. “So to have peace and quiet to myself is something I need.”

“Doesn’t it get lonely though?”

“I never said I didn’t.”

You pursed your lips and decided to not to press it. Again, the sudden mysterious sound hits your ears again and you turn your head. “Something bothering you?” Lilia asks.

“No. I promise.”

— — —

You were out of groceries which meant that food would be low. You didn’t understand why Lilia didn’t seem so concerned when the both of you should be. And you weren’t going to listen to him. “You shouldn’t go out.”

“We need food. There’s a town near us, isn’t there?”

“A small town. But it’s not like they’re going to be out and about.”

“I must try.” You put on your cloak and begin walking out.

“(Y/N).” Lilia sighs until looking up. “Ah, fairy sticks. (Y/N)! (Y/N), wait!” He exclaims, getting out of his seat and running after you.

“I need to get out anyways!” You bursted the doors open with a swipe of your hand, your boots moving across the stone bridge. You were too focused on the sight in front of you and didn’t notice the swirling storm above.

“(Y/N)! That’s not a good idea.” Lilia looked up at the sky.

“You can’t stop me!” As you were about to step off the bridge, a sudden surge of energy pushed back against you. Your heels dug into the bridge to prevent yourself from being entirely blown away. And it hurt. It felt like your skin was burning. “Ah!” You looked up, seeing, for a brief second, the translucent magical barrier that formed a dome over the library.

“You can’t leave!” Lilia yells. “We can’t leave. Don’t worry about food—”

“That is the most impractical thing I have ever heard!” You yell back. “Why can’t I leave!”

“We’re bound by magic here! Magic rules above all, remember?”

“Of course.” You were beginning to despise magic.

All of a sudden, you felt the atmosphere suddenly become darker. It felt…unsettling, heavy. There was pressure on your chest. “(Y/N), get back here!” Lilia demands.

“At least let me breathe some fresh air!” It’s been far too long.

“I am serious! At least get behind the barrier!”

“I am behind the barrier!” You exclaim.

“No you aren’t—”

“Yes I am!” Your attention was suddenly taken to the black blobs that were beginning to move. They didn’t seem threatening but you already knew what it was: blot. Sentient blot was rare considering that blot in general was more like a disease. “Great Seven.” Your fingers tingled with the sparks of magic and easily, with a few simple spells. But they just kept coming and for some reason, only got bigger and began combining with each other. Absorbing light magic? Impossible. Light magic was the most effective against blot. Your feet moved on their own and you turned around, beginning to run. Halfway across the bridge, you tripped over a stone that jutted out from the bridge. You felt a scratch on your face and turned around to see the looming monster that had taken shape. Were blot monsters even possible? Yes, scholars lacked any knowledge of anything in the Blotlands but this didn’t seem plausible. They erased said plausibility over a century ago. Immediately, on instinct, you stuck your hand out. “Light Ray!” Your strongest spell. Yes it wasn’t complicated but you never claimed to be a scholar in magic. The light blinded you for a second, your eyes immediately closing and looking away. When it faded, you opened them again and looked up. Horror dawned on your face as the monster seemed unphased and even was…acting full? As if you fed it. “No…” Immediately, you use your arms to cover your head, prepared for your doom.

“And this is why you should listen to your elders.” You look up, seeing Lilia land in front of you. A sudden black fog overcame the two of you. “To think I already banished you. Well, I don’t mind doing it again.” The atmosphere suddenly changed. It was heavier and much darker and there was a green aura that surrounded Lilia’s body. It was kind of his color too. The fog dissipated as well as the blot and what you saw wanted to make you pass out.

It was a shape, a mass that had multiple limbs and random eyes. It also was humanoid and had legs and was walking towards you. Lilia clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “You’ve grown. I can admire that. But you’re no match to me.” He positioned his arm in front of him, his hand having his index and pointer finger uncurled along with his thumb. “There’s a reason why The Bell chose me.” You saw a magic circle form. Magic circles were rare and ancient magic. Only people of a certain caliber could master such a technique. How strong was this man? “But for now, begone beast!” A sudden surge of magical energy fired into the entity. You heard screams of pain, but your eyes were closed and you curled into a fetal position as a massive dust cloud with tiny parts of stone chipped flew behind the Librarian. The scream eventually stopped and the dust cloud dissipated. You could only look up at the man in front of you, his back turned. His hair stopped moving along with the wind and his cloak settled. There was dust all over the pristine black fabric. “As long as I don’t have to do more than that, I should not worry. But he has managed to break through the first barrier.” He sighs before turning around and looking down at you. “You’re hurt.”

“Yeah…I know…” You were still trying to process what you had just seen.

Lilia puts his hand out. “Come. Let’s go get you patched up.”

— — —

Lilia Vanrouge. Lilia Vanrouge. Lilia Vanrouge. Where had you heard that name before? It’s been a week since the whole bridge fiasco and you were busy going through book after book. “Lilia Vanrouge…Aha! Found it…again…” How many books have mentioned Lilia Vanrouge? A lot of them. And a majority of them were about war. “Just how many books are you in…” You mutter.

“Probably a good sixth of this library.”

“Gah! Don’t do that!” You exclaimed, turning around to see him. Lilia pushed up his spectacles.

“Looking for information on me?” He smirks.

“Ummm…” You felt your cheeks become hot in embarrassment and even a small tingle of heat in your ears. “Maybe? I recognize that spell!”

“Oh? Do you?”

“I’ve seen it before! You know that magic circles all have a unique appearance in accordance to their user. So if I’ve seen it that must mean—”

“I’m significant? I mean, you’re correct. I’m surprised you didn’t recognize me for the first few months you were here.” Lilia adjusts his gloves. “I used to be a general.”

“The…The General Vanrouge?” You swore if it could, your jaw would’ve dropped to the floor.

“You might better know me by the Destroyer of Storms title.”

“That…that was you?!”

“Of course it was.” Lilia has a satisfied smile on his face.

“What…What are you doing here?!”

“In the library? Because I was chosen. And it makes sense. A Librarian shouldn’t just be a scholar. They also should be physically adept to protect the library from such monstrosities as…”

“Last week.” Your face falls as you think about it. “I’ve never felt such unpleasant power before.”

“It’s a mystery. I’m still trying to figure it out myself, honestly. In all of my years of living, I have never seen such a thing.”

“It would be a fascinating study!” Your head turns. Again, that whisper of a sound. It’s been bothering you for a while now and you could never find the source.

“Do you hear it?” Lilia’s face grows more serious.

“Hear what?” You look at him.

“The Whisper is what I call it. I can hear it too.”

“You can?”

“It was a lot more faint until you arrived.” Lilia begins to walk. “Follow me. I think it’s time you see more of this place.”

Immediately, you follow after him. “I feel like I’m only scratching the surface of this building.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. I’ve been here for a while and I’ve barely discovered everything.”

— — —

The sudden open space was…shocking. You had gone down what felt like an infinite flight of steps, guided by a ball of light you summoned. Lilia eventually led you to a door that was covered in a variety of foliage. It was a lot more colorful and lush than the native foliage in Diasomnia. When he opened the door, you were met with sudden sunlight. It was like something out of a dream. There were lush fields and a waterfall, a stream, a pond, flowers, trees of all kinds. You noticed that it extended far beyond your sight. “There’s also a garden down here which is where we get our food.” Lilia looks at you. “So we don’t need to go out and get groceries. And if we’re in need of meat, Sebek has no problem sending shipments.”

You were in complete awe and your spell fell away. The sun in here felt just as real as the sun you felt outside. It was a perfect image, perhaps even better. And it calmed your nostalgia. “Anyways follow me. We aren’t just here so you can gape.” Lilia began walking.

“Oh! Sorry!”

You were quick to follow after him, looking around. There was a lot in here. Was this what laid beneath the library? Diasomnia was quite barren so this was a genuine surprise. Although as you walked deeper into the area, you noticed some circular shapes of magic. Walking closer, you saw that in it was a floating book, accompanied by a pen that was writing on the page. “What the—”

“(Y/N).” You turned to Lilia. “Busy staring, are we?”

Your face became hot with embarrassment. “No…”

“How’s the sound?”

“The sound…” You realized that it had become quiet, almost a very low whisper. “It’s almost nonexistent down here.”

“Yeah. Because of that.” He pointed to a book a few meters away from you. It was a bright hot pink book with a pen writing furiously. You walked over immediately, leaning over.

“What happens if I read it?” You turn to him.

“Nothing.” Lilia shrugs. “But Librarians don’t read any books that are currently being written out of courtesy. It’s up to us to live through these events and the Librarians after us to study them.”

“I see…” You look at it furiously scribbling. “Have you read this one—” You turn around to find Lilia gone. It was what he did a lot of the time. You looked back at the book and then squinted when you saw something. “What…” Your name and Lilia’s name. Gently, you poked a finger through the magic barrier. There was no resistance so you put in both hands and grabbed the book. There was a bit of resistance to pull it out but for the most part, you were able to pull it out (probably because you were a Librarian). Even without the pen, the writing kept appearing on the page. “This is a thick book.” Then again, Lilia Vanrouge has been around for a long time. What caught your eye though was the sentence that just formed.

After all those centuries alone, Lilia was grateful that he was no longer the only one.

You felt a frown cross your face. Being a Librarian wasn’t your choice. But for Lilia, it must have been such a lonely existence. He existed without you for centuries upon centuries. At least you had someone to talk to and guide you while you were here.

(Y/N) was beginning to find Lilia a comforting presence and a stirring of romance came about within (Y/N)’s heart.

“Okay, that’s enough.” You put the book back into its magical sphere and the pen continues to write. “That is too weird.” Perhaps that was why not reading the current books was a rule: because it was way too weird. You walked around, trying to see where Lilia went. You saw him laying down on the ground, eyes closed and his skin taking in the faux sunlight down here. It was truly like another dimension. You walk over as quietly as possible though Lilia sits up and opens his eyes.

“You’re not as quiet as you think.”

“Well you were a general so I think I hold a disadvantage.” You huff, sitting next to him. “Why didn’t you tell me about this place?”

“Because it’s meant to be undisturbed unless we need food. You’re supposed to let things just happen down here. It’s beyond our control.” He picks a flower from the ground before handing it to you.

You take the flower, feeling your fingers graze against his glove. It sends a small shiver throughout your body. “I see…This would be a good place to do work, you know.”

“I guess so. But I fear getting the material upstairs dirty. Or ruining a millennia’s worth of work.” He sighs. “Alas, there’s not much I can do.”

You didn’t say anything. Rather, you move closer to him until your shoulders are touching. “Let’s not do work today.”

“I can agree.”

The two of you sit in silence as the gentle whispers of books travel through the foliage.

Amidst the fields did a love start to blossom. A late bloomer for sure.

[rezzyromance]

Could I request Heisenberg with a female s/o who's negatively pent up from anxiety and depression and feeling like they're not good enough for Karl but they always put on a brave face to not look weak? They just want to make him happy and proud maybe maybe when they're either fucking or just working, maybe he says an offhand comment that hits home, idk being called useless is a good one to feel like being stabbed. They love him but they've been hiding all their mental struggles and bottling it up be a use they always focused on him first? Mental health feels neglected rn and could use the hurt/comfort if you're okay with this! Up to you if you want to add smut or not, with or without is great

Of course, baby. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the story. (CW: Hurt/Comfort, mentions of anxiety and depression. Sexual scenarios: Fingering, face riding, praising, general NSFW)

Living with Karl is a task that can be mentally taxing on anyone. For you, this wasn't an exception. There was no doubt in your mind that you loved him, but that dragged along a few issues with it. You loved him so much, that you constantly felt an unbearable pressure that pushed you to attempt to impress him out of fear that he may view you as inferior to him. Karl is without a doubt strong, insanely intelligent, passionate, and all around tremendously powerful. Often times you wondered why he even keeps you around.

You had grown very close with him over time. He never put a real title on your relationship, but you both knew that he loved you. He loved you enough to let you help out on his work. He assigned little tasks for you to do such as organizing his blueprints, creating blueprints, and organizing his tools. Each time you did something, he would reward you with praise. Sometimes the praise would be heart to heart while other times it may be skin to skin. While the praise he provided felt rewarding, you began to worry what may happen if your work wasn't good enough. What if you weren't good enough? What if he stopped finding you useful or attractive? These troubling thoughts had been torturing you recently. But, you kept it all bottled up, worried that he may view you as weak if he knew you were so afraid of failure. Whenever you would work on something, you would sit there for hours on end. Nothing could stop you until you were finished. You did this as a way to imitate Karl and his tireless work. Though, Karl does have powers that help keep his body from shutting down the way yours does. That didn't stop you from constantly pushing yourself overboard, though.

A knot grew larger and larger in your throat as you attempted to sketch out a new blueprint, slouching while sitting on your bed. He had asked you to work on it that morning and it was nearly midnight now. The lines were uneven, your hand writing was messy, and it was easy to see where you had erased and redrawn a lot of little details all over the paper. A single tear fell from your eye and onto the paper, causing a wet spot where the ink began to smear. You ignore your body and minds cry for help by quickly wiping your eyes and acting as if it didn't happen. Your hands were shaking as you applied more details, not being close to finish. Your eyes were twitching, fed up with staring down so harshly at the paper for so long. Suddenly, the door to the room opens.

You jump and face the door, realizing how cramped your neck was from your poor posture. Karl entered the room, obviously tired from a long days work. His eyes looked heavy and he was running his hands through his hair. "Still working on that blueprint, buttercup?", he asks as he walks towards you. You look back at the paper and realize how low quality it was, along with unfinished. You quickly hold the paper to your chest, attempting to block it from him. 'Um it's almost finished I swear! I just n-need to add a few more little details.", you assure him. He holds his hand out. "Let me see.", he raises an eyebrow and begins to wiggle his fingers. You attempt to swallow the knot in your throat as you shakily hand it over.

Your hands clutch each other tightly, digging what's left of your bitten nails into your skin. His eyes scan each inch of the paper and his eyebrows begin to furrow. "What.. is this?", he looks over to you. "What?", you're voice is shaky and cracking, but you attempt to cover it up by clearing your throat. "(Y/N)... you've been in here all day and THIS is all you could do? What have you been doing all day?", his voice began to grow into a semi-shout. It felt like thunder as it shook your body. You take a deep breath, attempting to toughen up to his words. "I really did try! I did exactly what you told me an-" he cuts you off before you can finish. "Really? You did exactly as I told you?! You said you could have this done by tonight and i trusted your judgement. But (Y/N) this shit is useless!"

He continues to fuss, but it was all silent to you. All you could hear was the echo of his voice saying that word. "Useless." The one thing you feared of becoming. The one thing you feared of creating. Your balled fists begin to shake. Your lip begins to quiver and your eyes grow cloudy.

"I'M SORRY!", you cry out before looking down at the floor, failing to control your tears as they fell to the floor. Suddenly, your eyes began to flood. Your stomach and heart felt like they were twisting and turning with guilt. He froze, unsure of how to handle this sudden outburst. "Was I too harsh?", he thought. "I'VE TRIED SO HARD TO BE GOOD ENOUGH. GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU! I'VE TRIED TO PERFECT YOUR WORK. I'VE TRIED TO LOOK MY BEST EVERY DAY! FOR YOU! I'VE DONE EVERYTHING YOU'VE TOLD ME TO!", your whole body shakes as you break down. "I never told you that you had to do any of that! What the hell have you been pushing yourself so hard for?", his tone was still stern, but he wasn't angry. He was very concerned, but had no idea how to express it. "I WANTED TO MAKE YOU PROUD!", you continue to cry.

The room was silent other than your quiet sobbing. He didn't know what to say. He had no clue that you had put so much pressure on yourself to impress him. He had no idea on why it mattered so much to you. And in that moment, something in him began to ache. He remembered being like that once. So dead set on making others proud of him no matter what it took. He had no clue what to say due to no one ever being there for him in his time of struggle, so instead he goes for a more physical approach.

He grabs you by the arm and pulls you to his body, holding you close. You bury your face in his chest to try and muffle your cries. He runs his hand through your hair, still confused as to why you pushed yourself so hard for him. "I just..", you sniffle. "I just wanted to be good enough.. for you...", you say as you try to stop crying. He lifted you up, carrying you bridal style to the bed. He crawled up and sat his back against a pillow, continuing to hold you close as you buried your face in his neck.

"Look at me.", he held your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger and waited for you to face him. You sniffle and pull your head up to meet him eye to eye. There was a new look in his eyes. Something unfamiliar to the both of you. Tenderness. "You are good enough. And I am so proud of you. Everyday you make me proud. Every time I look at you I'm proud.", he begins to wipe the tears from your face, struggling to find the right words to say. "Look. You don't need to overwork yourself. The fact that you stick around with me to begin with is enough for me." A small smile begins to grow on your face. The sight warms him and helps reassure him that he didn't say anything dumb.

Once you've seemed to calm down, he pulls you in for a kiss. It was warmer than usual. Softer than usual. And Karl isn't a man known for being soft or gentle. But this kiss was far from rough, but just as passionate. It was reassuring and safe. He pulls away and smiles at the sight of your now blushing face. "There's my pretty girl. Now, if you feel like it... since we're already on the bed.. I think I know a thing or two you can do if you still wanna feel useful.", he offers with a sly grin. You giggle and begin to straddle his lap. "Sounds good to me." you say as his hands start to wander around your hips.

"But, we're gonna be doing something different.", he says as his eyes scan every inch of your body. "What's that?", you go to unbuckle his belt but he grabs your wrist before you can continue. "Tonight's all about you. I wanna make you feel good.", he says. During every sexual situation you've had, you had focused on pleasing him first, not thinking about yourself and your own wants and desires. You don't object, so he moves his hands back to your hips and pulls you off of his body, effortlessly tossing you onto your back on the bed.

He then pins himself above you, towering over you. Your heart races at the new experience and your face glows more and more pink. His eyes meet yours and the sight alone is enough to start making your panties grow wet. He lowers his face down to your neck where he begins to place little kisses. Chills run through your body like ocean waves and you let out a quiet gasp as a kiss turns into a nibble. A hickey begins to form and he lets go, moving his mouth to your ear. "I want you to tell me what you want, buttercup." he whispers in your ear as one of his hands begins to wander across your body. It starts up near your breast where he fondles it gently, earning a lip bite from you. Then, he goes lower to your stomach where he scratches lightly at your skin. You squirm beneath his hand. He smiles and begins to kiss you once more before going even further, slipping his hands into your pants and cupping your vagina through your soaking panties. You gasp while your lips are still connected and he gently tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth, pleased at the reaction he's gotten from you.

"Is this what you want?", he slips two of his fingers into your panties and finds your clit, rubbing it slowly. "Mhm", you whine and press yourself into him. "Goodgirl.", he moves from where he was and makes his way down to your pants. He unbottons them and begins to pull them off. He throws the pants across the room and crawls back towards you on the bed. He removes your shirt and your bra underneath, throwing them in the same direction of the pants. He lowers his head down to one of your hard nipples and wraps his mouth around it, caressing it with his tongue. This causes you to moan quietly and grip the sheets beneath you. Your nipple was already so tender, so the feeling of his tongue was powerful enough to make you squirm. He lowers his hand back into your panties, rubbing your clit with his thumb. Your knees bend inward, trapping his hand between your legs. He chuckles with your nipple gently between his teeth. "Looks like you like this, huh?" You moan in response.

It didn't take long for you to feel a climax building inside you, coming closer and closer to exploding with each touch he inflicted onto your throbbing clit. Moans of all volumes filled the room as you got closer and closer. Then, right when you were about to cum, he stops. You groan in disappointment and look over at him. "I was just warming you up.", he smirks and lays on his back. "Come here.", he commands and pats on his chest, signaling for you to sit there. You do as he says and sit upon his chest. The second you sit down, His strong hands grip onto your hips and he begins to pull your body towards his face. He places you on top of his mouth. The next thing you know, your soaked pussy is being attacked by his tongue. You can't help but let a moan slip out between your lips as he closes is eyes, fully focused on bringing you maximum pleasure. He places each hand on each thigh, gripping them slightly all while his tongue swirls around your clit. You use one hand to grip the headboard of the bed and the other one to grip his hair, tangling your fingers in the grey strands. You grip harder as he sucks on your clit, causing you to throw your head back in pleasure. He let loose a few muffled moans and groans, causing vibrations on your pulsing clit. "Oh fuck Karl!", you feel your body weight sink lower and lower as you melt into the pleasure of his tongue. You begin to grind your hips back and forth, riding out your orgasm. He doesn't mind at all and begins to work harder to finally push you to your limit. With a loud moan, you cum into his mouth.

As you catch your breath and shake on top of him, he grabs you once again and pushes you over onto the bed. His beard was shiny around his lips due to a mixture of your sweat and cum. He looks down at your flustered and flushed face, pleased with what he'd done. You noticed a large bulge protruding from his pants. "I want you.", you pant as you reach over, massaging the hard lump. He responds by stripping, too breathless to verbally respond. Once he's fully naked, he makes his way onto the bed. You take him by the shoulder and pull his face into yours, initiating a passionate make out session. Your tongues caressing one another as you both toss and turn, ending up with you straddling him.

You rub his already throbbing dick, preparing for its entry. It was quite large and veiny. The hair that led from his lower stomach to his pubic area glistened with precum. You position yourself and begin to sit on his dick, letting it slowly fit inside you. Your extra wetness helped lube it. Once it was completely in, Karl groaned, grabbing your ass in his calloused hands. "Fuck.. you're so good.", he encourages. You begin to slowly rise and fall, letting your pussy stretch to comfortably fit his girth. You both moaned quietly. Once you feel comfortable, you wrap your arms around his neck and begin to bounce on it, feeling each thick vein add texture. 'What a good girl..." Every time you made your way back down, you could feel the tip of his dick reach your special spot, making your knees feel weak. As overwhelming as it felt, you couldn't stop. You continued to bounce up and down on his dick as his fingers grip your ass for dear life. "You're doing so good.", he praises you and you thank him by clashing your lips together, sharing sloppy kisses as you both moan with each up and down motion. "Such a good girl.", he begins to squeeze your breast, causing you to squeal and pick up the pace. It felt amazing, but your legs grew weaker and weaker with each motion, and he could tell. You were panting as you fucked yourself senseless on his dick.

"Wait a sec.", he gently pats your ass to get you to stop. You stop and rest your sweaty forehead to his, legs shaking beneath you. You didn't want to stop, but you weren't sure how much longer you could continue. Your legs felt like they were on fire. 'Let me help you.", his hands glide up to your waist where he clutches your sides and begins to bounce you up and down, continuing the motion you could no longer do yourself. You kiss him and whine into his lips as he slams your body up and down, grunting harder each time. "Such a pretty girl.." he pants. "Riding my cock so good..", he begins to slam his hips into you, reaching a point inside you that he's never reached before. You throw your head back and moan, tears of pleasure and bliss begin to form in your eyes. You're both exhausted and so close to finishing. You're whole body felt like it was numb and on fire at the same time as your climax creeped closer and closer.

And with a few more strong pumps into you, you both cum. He lets loose of your sides and wraps his arms around your back, drenching in sweat. You collapse on top of him, unable to move any of your body. Karl places a few more sloppy kisses across your face, his facial hair tickling your skin. "Don't you ever.. ever believe you're not good enough. Got it?", he pressures. You're too exhausted to form words, so you simply nod your head, laying down on his chest. His heart beat was rapid but soothing. Soon enough, it lulled you to sleep. He soon followed, keeping his arms wrapped tight around you the entire time.

[imagines-all-day-everyday]

Madripoor

Requested by: MEEE cause this plot popped into my head the second I watched this episode

Summary: Bucky was just following Sharon’s advice to enjoy the party when he meets *yn*, what he isn’t counting on is that he most definitely won’t be staying out of trouble.

Warnings: THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER EP 3 SPOILERS YOU’VE BEEN WARNEDDDDD, fluff, swearing, violence

PART TWO (NAGEL)

--------------------------

“Lay low, blend in. Enjoy the party.” Sharon spoke as she made her way up the stairs. “Oh and try to stay out of trouble, I’ll see what I can find.” 

“Trouble?” Zemo smirked. 

--------

Sharon’s words echoed in Bucky’s ears as he made his way through the party. Sweaty bodies were pressed up against him as he ducked and weaved through the crowd. It felt like the pulsating music was drumming against his skull as he made his way up to the bar.

“I’m way too old for this.” He huffed out once he reached Sam, gesturing to the bartender for two shots.

“Old or lame? There’s a big difference.” Sam remarked as the pair simultaneously clinked their glasses together and skulled the liquid. Bucky smirked as he watched Sam cough and splutter.

“Now who’s the lame one?” Bucky chuckled, the liquid burning his throat.

“Maybe we both are. Look at Zemo, the dude may be weird but he’s got game.” Sam answered once he’d recovered. 

Bucky followed his gaze to see Zemo dancing in between two women, both giggling and chatting animately. He watched as Zemo suddenly began pumping his arm enthusiastically to the beat as the girls watched him wide eyed, before exchanging glancing and slipping back into the crowd without another word.

“On second thought dude’s just weird.”

Bucky let out a chuckle as he leant forward and grabbed the beer that the bartender had left out for him. He took a swig as he turned back around to face the party. He automatically swept over area, his eyes sliding over the hundreds of faces as he looked out for any threat.

He paused as his eyes fell on a flash of bright red material. 

Upon closer inspection he noted that the bright red material was in fact a silk dress that was covering the slender figure of a young woman. It was a halter dress that had a deep slit down the front and was almost completely backless, the silk material falling down almost to her ankles with another deep slit also running up her leg that exposed her thigh. 

He felt his grip on his beer tighten as his eyes fell on her face, revealing a pair of eyes framed by thick lashes and lips painted with a deep plum lipstick. She was snaking her way through the crowd, gracefully dodging drunken people as they stumbled their way around on the dance floor. 

As if she sensed his gaze her eyes flickered up and locked with his. The pair eyed each other for a few moments. She shot him a small smile before breaking their gaze.

“Now who would you be checking out hm?” Sam’s voice broke Bucky out of his almost trance like state. 

“No one.” Bucky answered gruffly, glancing over at Sam to see him smirking at him. 

“Sure Buck.”

Bucky ignored him and turned his head back to where the woman had been only moments ago. She was gone. He scanned the crowd and let out a small huff when he couldn’t see any sight of her. 

“Now, I need you to educate me on this art so I can impress some of the ladies.” Sam spoke up again, dragging Bucky’s attention from the crowd.

“What’s that one?” He asked pointing at a nearby painting.

“That’s the Wedding at Cana, painted by Paolo Veronese in 1563.”

“1562 actually.”

Bucky swivelled around, a breath catching in his throat when his eyes fell on the bright red dress. He had no idea how she’d managed to somehow appear beside him without him noticing. He swallowed and ran a hand through his hair as he composed himself before answering, ensuring his face stayed void of emotion.

“I’m pretty sure it’s 1563 actually.”

His answer made her brow quirk up in amusement as she took a sip of her drink, her wrist twinkling due to a very expensive looking diamond bracelet dangling from it.

“Actually I think you’ll find it’s 1562. The copy in the Louvre might say 1563 but I suggest you take a peak at the original.” Her words made his eyes narrow as he studied her features. 

“Well maybe I will.” 

“Before you do that please feel free to continue educating your friend, I’m happy to sit here and correct you when you make another mistake.” She spoke, shooting him an overly warm smile which caused Bucky to grit his teeth. 

Sam let out a low whistle as the smirk on her lips widened. “Damn Buck I think you might’ve met someone more cultured than you.” 

“We’ll see about that.” Bucky muttered, taking a swig of his beer as he eyed her. 

“So how does someone like yourself become so knowledgable about stolen art?” Sam asked her, his eyes darting between the pair in amusement.

The girl shrugged as she took another sip of her drink before motioning to the bartender. “I know a lot about a lot of things.” 

“Really?” Bucky mused, this time it being his turn to raise a brow. “And does ‘miss knower of all things’ have a name?” 

“Miss knower of all things does.” She answered as she grabbed the shot glass and pressed it to her lips. Bucky eyed her profile intently, noting the way her plump lips wrapped around the lip of the glass and her eyes screwed shut as she slung her head back to let the liquid slide down her throat. 

“I love this song.” She remarked, finishing the remainder of her other drink before she rose from her seat. Bucky’s eyes followed her figure as she begun to make her way back to the dance floor. She paused and glanced over her shoulder, a smirk still present on her lips.

“You coming to dance with me or what Buck?” She queried, Sam’s nickname for him rolling off her tongue, amusement evident in her tone.

Bucky eyed her for a few moments before glancing over at Sam. “Sharon did say to enjoy the party.” Sam grinned.

“Try not to be too lame or old huh?” He continued, patting his shoulder encouragingly as Bucky rose from his chair. 

“Thanks.” Bucky muttered as he cautiously approached the woman in red. Her smirk widened as he made his way towards her. “C’mon.” He heard her say as she leant forward and took his gloved hand in hers and tugged him into the crowd.

If she was saying anything to him, he couldn’t hear as he felt himself become engulfed in the crowd as she pulled him deeper into the dance floor. After a few moments she came to a stop and swivelled around to face him. He felt himself grow slightly red as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, swaying her hips to the beat.

“Are you really not going to tell me your name?” Bucky spoke, practically shouting to make himself heard over the thumping base.

“Why do you want to know? You never danced with a stranger before?” She answered back.

“No I just- I usually know people’s names before I dance with them.” He replied which caused her to let out a small laugh. “Back in my day we used to go out to dinner first.” He added silently in his head. 

His heart thumped against his chest as she pulled him closer to her and leant up so her lips brushed against the shell of his ear. “My name’s *yn*.” 

“*yn*.” Bucky echoed, her smile widening at the sound of her name rolling off his tongue. “And what brings you to a place like Madripoor?” 

“You ask a lot of questions.” She observed matter-of-factly.  

Before Bucky could open his mouth to respond, *yn* twisted around, keeping one arm slung around his neck as she pressed her back up against his body. Bucky bit his lip to prevent a hiss from escaping his mouth as *yn* began to rotate her hips to the rhythm of the music, the fabric of her dress pressing against the material of his black suit pants.

This certainly beat online dating.

“Just relax, enjoy the party.” *yn* laughed breathlessly, echoing Sam’s words from before as she pressed even harder against him. Bucky let his eyes flutter shut as he felt his hands automatically move to grip her hips as he started to move his own body in time with the thumping bass. 

His grip on her hips tightened as she lolled her head back against his chest, her hot breath fanning onto his neck as the pair moved in sync. 

If only Steve could see him now.

As he grew more comfortable he let his gloved hands begin to wander, trailing over her lower stomach before gliding down her thighs. “What do you say we go find somewhere quieter to talk?” He heard *yn* murmur into his ear. 

He felt *yn*’s body stiffen as his hands crept lower to just below her panty line. Before he could answer, her hand suddenly shot out to grip his wrist and cease his movements but not before his hand suddenly brushed over an unexpected bump on her leg. 

A shape that felt suspiciously like a-

A hand suddenly clamped onto his shoulder causing him to jerk his hands away in surprise just as *yn* pulled away from his grasp. “I’m sorry to break up the party but Sharon’s found our guy-” Sam cut himself off as Bucky swivelled around to stare at him, his eyes wide in surprise.

“You good man?” Sam asked, concern written on his features when he noticed Bucky’s look of surprise.

“I-” Bucky cut himself off before looking back to *yn*.

His brow furrowed as his eyes instead fell on a drunk man currently sculling a beer out of a shoe. He frantically looked around, muttering a curse under his breath when he realised *yn* was no where to be seen. 

It was like she had vanished without a trace.

“Oh painting girl pulled a runner? Don’t worry about it man happens to the best of us.” Sam comforted, patting his shoulder once more. 

Bucky felt a ripple of suspicion wash over him but he decided against telling Sam about it as he finally pulled his gaze away from the crowd to look at Sam. “Let’s get Zemo. We should talk somewhere private.”

--------------------

“Alright what have you found?” Sam asked. Zemo, Bucky, Sharon and Sam were all piled into a private coat room located directly above the party. The bass was still so loud that Bucky could feel the vibrations through the tiled floor. The door was locked with a few security guards located outside and on the stairs leading up to the room. 

Bucky sighed, his mind swimming with thoughts of *yn* as he ripped his gloves off. He couldn’t shake a feeling of suspicious that was gnawing at him that there was something off about *yn*.

“I’ve spoken to a few buyers and I’ve got a location on Doctor Nagel.” Sharon spoke, interrupting his thoughts. “He was pretty hard to track down but he’s definitely still here in Madripoor. He’s at the shipping yard.”

Bucky stiffened when he swore he head a thump outside the door, a thump that didn’t correlate with the sound from the party. He strained his ears and sure enough, another thump followed suit a few minutes lately. 

“Bucky?”

“You sure no one can get up here?” Bucky queried, looking over to Sharon. 

“I’m sure. This is a restricted area, I’ve got all the entrances guarded.” She answered, watching him as he made his way to the door.

“Bucky? What’s going on?” Sam asked.

Bucky held his hand up to signal everyone to be quiet as he pressed his ear against the wood. He held his breath as he listened intently. There were a few moments of quiet until he head another thump and a small moan. 

Without warning Bucky ripped open the door and stepped out into the hallway. He nearly tripped over when his foot hit a solid form. He glanced down to see one of the guards lying at his feet, letting out low moans of pain. His eyes travelled down the hall to see all of the guards were either unconscious or were too dazed to get to their feet. 

He froze when his eyes fell on an all too familiar red dress. 

Bucky locked eyes with *yn*, her lips parted in surprise and chest heaving up and down as she tried to regain her breath. The pair stood frozen for what felt like an eternity, the silence almost deafening as they eyed each other. 

“Bucky!” Sam called out, shattering the silence.

Bucky was only distracted for a split second but *yn* took it, turning around and sprinting down the stairs. “Hey!” Bucky shouted, taking off after her ignoring Sam’s shouts from behind him. 

Bucky leapt down the winding stairs, catching brief glimpses of the red material before it disappeared around the next corner. Finally his feet planted on the lower floor. His eyes scanned the crowd, locking onto *yn*’s figure as she pushed through the crowd.

His jaw locked and he could feel himself enter into winter soldier mode as he stormed forward and plunged into the throng of people. He ignored protests and exclamations of surprise as he shoved people out of the way, parting them like the red sea as he kept his eyes focused on her like a laser beam. 

*yn* glanced over her shoulder and the pair briefly locked eyes before she turned around once more and broke out of the crowd, sprinting towards a door with a neon exit sign hanging above it. 

Bucky was hot on her heels, shoving the door open revealing another set of stairs. He hurried up the stairs and got to a landing revealing two doors. He noted that the left door was slightly ajar and he pushed through it revealing a large hall.

He sprinted into the centre of it, coming to a stop when he saw no sight of *yn*. He did a 360 of the room, craning his neck to look around. The room was empty except for a few large wooden boxes covered in tarps. Clearly this was where Sharon kept the less impressive stolen art.

“Come on.” Bucky muttered under his breath as he looked around. It was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop but his senses were telling him that he wasn’t alone in this room.

*yn* was here, if that was even her name.

He let out a grunt of surprise as a sold object hit his back, nearly knocking the wind out of him. He could feel limbs wrapping around his neck and his torso as slender arms pulled his neck into a headlock. He let another grunt as he brought his hands up to grip onto the arm that was around his throat.

He furrowed his brow in surprise when he pulled at the arms and found them unbudging. He tried once more, mustering all the strength he had but *yn*’s grip remained unmoving. He gritted his teeth and took a couple steps before shoving his back into one of the wooden crates.

He heard *yn* let out a small moan of pain as her body smacked against the solid mass with full force. Sure enough, her grip loosened slightly which allowed Bucky to pull her arm from his neck and throw her body over his head and off him. 

She twisted her body in the air so that she landed in a crouched position but still on her feet. Bucky watched her as she rose to her full height, her body slightly gleaming with sweat under the sterile light. She took a few steps back from him and leant down to spread apart her dress, revealing a black thigh garter.

Just as Bucky had suspected on the dance floor, sheathed inside the thigh garter was a small blade. He watched as she pulled it from her thigh, gripping it tightly in her hand.

“You picked the wrong dress tonight doll.” Bucky tutted as he took a few steps towards her.

“You don’t like it? I’m hurt.” *yn* pouted, placing a hand over her heart mockingly. 

“Trust me doll, I like it.” Bucky answered, letting his eyes briefly dart from the dagger in her hand to her dress. “But it’s not exactly the best dress for blending in and slipping away unnoticed.” 

“Who ever said I wanted to slip away unnoticed?” *yn* answered, a mischievous glint in her eye as the pair began to slowly circle each other. Her words made his forehead crease in confusion as he studied her intently. 

“So you know who I am?” 

“I do.” *yn* nodded as she twisted the knife in between her fingers. “The зимний солдат.” 

Her answer made Bucky’s lips part slightly in surprise. “That is what they call you, isn’t it?” She mused.

“Who are you?” Bucky snapped causing her to smirk to widen.

“What were those magic words again, Желание, Ржавый, Семнадцать-”

Bucky suddenly lurched forward, taking *yn* by surprise. She reacted instinctively, bringing the blade up from her side towards his stomach. Bucky gripped her wrist using his right arm, stopping the knife only inches from his flesh. He pulled her closer to him and raised his metal arm to strike her. With lightning fast reflexes her other arm shot up and her hand enclosed around his fist.

He glanced up at her in surprise when she pushed against his metal arm, stopping his fist from colliding with her jaw. He grunted as he mustered up more strength in an attempt to break out of her grasp to no avail. They were evenly matched in strength. 

He had no idea who she was but now he was certain of one thing. They both had super soldier serum running through their veins. 

*yn* took advantage of Bucky’s surprise and lifted a leg up, kicking him squarely in the stomach, her stiletto heel digging into his skin. Bucky spluttered as he felt the wind get knocked out of him, loosening his grip on her arms. *yn* reacted quickly, knocking his feet from underneath him and jumping on top of him. 

Bucky groaned as his back hit the concrete floor and *yn* straddled him, pinning both of his arms above his head with one hand and pressing her dagger to his throat with the other.

“I think I liked you better when I was showing you up in front of your friend.” She remarked as she pressed the blade firmly against his skin.

“And I think I liked you better when you were dancing on me and not trying to kill me.” Bucky spat back as he squirmed underneath her causing *yn* to cock her head to the side, an amused expression on her features.

“Now whoever said I wanted to kill you?” 

“Hmm I don’t know, could be the knife you’ve got against my throat.” He growled, wincing as the metal dug even further into his flesh. *yn* let out a breathy laugh as she leant down towards his face.

“Trust me pretty boy, if I wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead.” 

The sound of footsteps approaching and Sam calling Bucky’s name made both their heads jerk towards the door before Bucky could answer her. This time it was Bucky’s turn to take advantage of *yn* being caught off guard. He managed to wriggle his metal arm out of her iron like grip and instantly lurched up to grab her around the throat. 

*yn* spluttered in surprise, instinctively dropping her dagger to use both her hands to struggle against his vice like grip. Bucky used all of his core strength to push her off him and roll himself on top of her. Now he was so close up to her and under bright light, he could see that her skin was littered with small scars and bullet holes. 

*yn*’s face was slowly growing red as she desperately gasped for air, her body squirming underneath him as she clawed at his metal arm. “I’m not going to ask you again, who the hell are you?” Bucky spat, glaring down at her as he desperately searched her eyes for some sort of answer.

“I don’t-” She spluttered, “I didn’t come here to hurt you, please-” She continued, her voice barely a whisper as her airway grew more restricted. For the first time since Bucky had locked eyes with her, he could see some form of fear and desperation reflecting back at him. The pair eyed each other for a few moments before Bucky slowly eased his grip around her throat, just enough for her to regain some air. *yn* gasped at the feeling of oxygen entering her lungs once more.

“Woah, what the fuck-” 

Bucky looked up to see Sam, Sharon and Zemo staring at the pair with wide eyes, all three of them with their weapons raised. 

“What part of stay out of trouble did you not understand?” Sharon queried, an exacerbated expression on her features.

“Trouble found me.” Bucky answered gruffly as he looked back down at *yn*. The fear that had been present on her features only moments ago had vanished, the cocky and flirtatious mask had been slipped back on. 

“Not that I really mind this position, but given that the cavalry’s arrived, do you mind getting off me?” *yn* asked Bucky coolly. 

Bucky’s lips pressed into a thin line, clearly unamused at her remark as he studied her. “You’re not going to try and kill me again?” 

“I already told you, I don’t want to kill you.” *yn* huffed, rolling her eyes. 

Bucky studied her for a few moments before finally relenting and releasing her throat from his grip. He pushed himself off her and rose to his feet but not before grabbing her dagger and sliding it into his suit pants. 

*yn* got herself up from the ground, her breathing still ragged as she ran a hand through her hair and tucked her strays behind her ears. 

“You wanna tell us who this is Bucky?” Sharon asked, eyeing *yn* up and down.

“Supposedly her name is *yn*-”

“-not supposedly, it is *yn*.”

“-she seems to like not answering questions about herself.” Bucky ignored *yn*’s input. “Oh and she’s had the super soldier serum.” 

“Might want to keep an eye on your friend over there, I know he’s in the habit of murdering anyone who’s come within walking distance of the stuff.” *yn* remarked dryly shooting Zemo a dirty look. 

“Hello to you too darling.” Zemo grinned causing Sharon to roll her eyes.

“Who are you? Who the hell do you work for?” Sharon quizzed her.

“I don’t work for anyone.” *yn* snapped back.

“The flag smashers?” Sam asked causing *yn*’s face to contort into a look of disgust. “Fuck no, I don’t work with those amateurs.” 

“Just tell us what you want or I’m going to have to detain you.” Sharon spoke. There was a brief pause as *yn* studied Sharon before looking over to Bucky.

“You’re not the only one looking for answers, зимний солдат.” She answered quietly, her features softening for a moment as she looked at him.

“Well then maybe we can help each other get answers then.” Bucky murmured back.

The pair studied each other for a few moments before a loud honk suddenly sounded outside. Gun shots rang out from underneath them followed by loud screams and shouts. Bucky, Zemo, Sam and Sharon looked around in confusion as the sound of hundreds of footsteps began to grew louder and louder. 

“Sorry kids, that’s my ride. Gotta fly.”

Within a few seconds the door burst open and hundreds of party goers flooded the room, shouting for help as they fled from the gun fire. Bucky glanced over to where *yn* had been only a few seconds ago to see that she was sprinting towards the only window in the room. 

Bucky pushed through the panicked crowd, watching helplessly as *yn* reached the raised window. She clambered up onto the ledge and shoved the window open. She glanced over her shoulder and the pair locked eyes when Bucky was practically within arms length of her. 

“I’ll be sure to send Doctor Nagel your regards, Buck.” She taunted. “We should do this again sometime, maybe without trying to hurt each other.” She smirked, sending him a wink before leaping off the ledge. Bucky scrambled up onto the ledge and poked his head out to see *yn* sliding down a pipe fixed to the outside of the building. 

He watched helplessly as her stilettos hit the ground. She approached a waiting motorcycle, the driver holding out a helmet for her expectantly. She took the helmet and slung her leg over the seat, sliding her helmet on as the driver throttled the engine. She looked up to the window and gave Bucky a wave before wrapping her arms around the driver’s waist.

“Fuck.” Bucky cursed as he watched the motorbike peel off into the bustling street, going completely unnoticed by the rest of the public amid the chaos. 

“She’s gone?” Sam queried as the other three appeared beside Bucky at the window.

“Hm.” Bucky grunted, clenching his jaw in annoyance as he watched the motorbike disappear from sight. 

“She was kind of terrifying.” Sam remarked matter of factly. 

“I thought for sure she was going to gut you, James.” Zemo observed.

Bucky stayed silently, clearly brooding as he stared out into the street as Sam studied him in amusement. 

“I think Bucky’s in love.” 

PART TWO (NAGEL)

---------------

зимний солдат = winter soldier

Желание, Ржавый, Семнадцать = Longing, Rusted, Seventeen.

-------------

I ACTUALLY LOVE THIS FIC SO MUCH!?!? As always feedback is appreciated!!!! Please give it back here xx