#also posting this here while we are at it...

[femmesport]

Don't Play About You

prompt: based on the tiktok trend in which protective partners make sure their comments are acting right while they let their loved ones share something they are proud of wc: 1.1k an: hii!! this is my first ever post here, so please feel free to give feedback (though don't be rude pls). if you have any suggestions, please send them my way! i plan on writing for juju, uconn wbb, some wnba, as well as a few other recs.

“baby” juju huffs out with a laugh turning her phone in your direction as you lay with your head on her chest scrolling through your phone.

it was a rare day off and you two had hardly moved from your spots on the couch. juju had a free weekend from her responsibilities and you didn’t have to work. you two wanted to make the most of your time but also just wanted to spend time with each other.

“hmm” you hum, turning around and lifting your head to look at her phone which had a tiktok pulled up and ready.

“look at this, baby” she pressed play again, “we should do this.”

you watch the screen and see an intimidating woman pop up with her arms crossed and a tough exterior. she threatens the viewers into watching her girlfriend share a niche interest. you smile because it was exactly like your dynamic with juju, which you make sure to point out to her with a smile. she has the tough exterior that no one dares mess with. she especially does not play about you.

“what would i even talk about or show off?” you ask, turning back to look at your girlfriend who was staring expectantly.

“well, first of all, you could talk about a brick wall and you know i don’t play about you” juju claims with a kiss to your forehead, “but also, i know you have been working on those lil pottery dishes, why don’t you show those off?” juju offers and you shrug.

“yeah, but those aren’t really that great and it would be such a goofy thing to show off” you shrug and she looks down and uses two fingers to turn your chin so you are facing her.

“baby, they are quite literally perfect, much like everything else you touch” she leans in, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips and smiling into your mouth, “also, you know i will kick someones ass if they try to tell my girl she is anything less than perfect.”

“okay, but you have to be extra tough, i can’t handle criticism” you pout and she smiles.

“bet” she says and she puts her hands on your hips to lift you up off the couch, sending you to go grab your little ceramic dishes you have spent the past week creating and painting. as you turn and head to your office, you see her eyes following you the whole way with a dopey smile.

as you get to your office you pick up the little trays and stare with a sigh. you looked down at them and thought about the hours you had spent trying to make them the perfect shape. you wanted to paint a cute design that represented you and juju and spent hours determining the glaze colors that would best match the intentions. maybe the comments could offer up some optimistic thoughts or feedback.

when you returned to the living room, you saw that juju had set up her phone on a shelf and was waiting for you. upon seeing you return, she grinned in that dopey way at you and motioned for you to stand to the side while she got the timer ready. you hear the sound of the tiktok counter and see her stand straight with her arms crossed.

“alright guys,” she starts and you smile at her and the tough act, “today my girlfriend wants to tell you about her pottery. you guys are going to stay, listen to her, and leave nice comments. got it?” she gets closer to the camera really trying to sell the tough act before turning to smile at you.

“baby,” and she holds her hand out for you to grab and pulls you in, “tell them about your work.” she softly says with her hands on your hips as you step into frame with a smile.

“alright, these are the little ceramic dishes i made,” you start holding them both up and taking turns showing them to the phone camera, “this one is the one i made for juju so that she can put her keys and stuff on. i made it the usc colors because of course! and this one is the one i made for me, it is light blue and then has my birthflower and then larkspur, which is the july birthflower.”

you see juju over your shoulder with her arms crossed occasionally making approving gestures. you ramble on about how much work you had put into them and let juju continue on behind you. when you are done, you take a step back and look at juju with an excited smile. as she looked down at you, she couldn’t hold up the tough act any longer. she smiled and leaned down to wrap her arms around your waist laying her head into your neck.

“i love them, baby” she kisses your cheek, “and i know they will too,” she offers up with a nod to the camera and you laugh lightly leaning back into your girlfriend. with one more kiss on your jaw, she lets go and stops the recording.

she grabs her phone and watches through. you can’t help but keep your eyes on her. you notice even as she acts tough, her eyes are on you and you could feel the love. you never doubted that juju loved you, but seeing her with that look in her eyes reminded you that she was in love just as deeply as you were. 

“what do you think?” she asks looking directly into your eyes for any sign of hesitation. you know that if you say the word she would delete the whole video and take you back to the couch to continue cuddling.

“it’s funny, you love me so bad” you smile in return at her and reach out to wrap your arms around her waist.

“damn, ma,” she laughs, “i’m offended that you are just now noticing” she gasps, putting a hand to her chest in a fake offense.

you lean up and kiss her jaw. you then kiss up higher on her jaw. then her cheek, the corner of her mouth, and finally settle on her lips. you feel your body relax into hers as she wraps her arms around you.

“you do know i love you and don’t play about you, right” she asks smirking down and you can just smile in return.

“i did actually, and though i may not be as tough” you point out, “i do the same and i love you.” you lean up on your tip toes and press a final kiss on her lips.

~

@/jujuwatkinss: i don’t play, you guys better act right in the comments

-

@/yourusername: i hope yall like my little trays (:

@/jujubbaggin: i love the trays!! **i’m terrified

@/yournamecore: acting tough but then dopey smiling at your girl - we know what you are juju

@/yournamecore: also love the trays!! super cute and you are so talented

feedback would be appreciated!! tysm <3

-- tea ★’*•.¸♡

[rin-may-1103]

Turn Back the Frozen Sands of Time. Pt3.

Previous | Master Post | Next (to be written)

Danny remained silent as he followed his mother down the winding halls. Some of her spies came and went with reports, muttering just low enough that human ears shouldn't be able to hear.

Group C was in the south wing, and Group D was finishing up with their task. Mother had something planned, which meant they were right smack dab in the middle of it. She was affected by the time travel, but whether it's she, herself, that came back or she's acting on anonymous information, is yet to be determined.

Danny glanced at Damian again, studying his brother without the pretense of their actions being his own fault.

Just like earlier, nothing seemed out of place, except for the fact that Damian was standing closer than usual. As if he were worried or guarding Danny.

Danny knew Damian loved him, just like how he loved Damian. But Danny also knew that Damian would do whatever Ra's (and Mother) told him to, blindly trusting the man with their lives. (Literally, if his first death wasn't evident enough.) So, obviously, he's worried about Danny, and acting as if he knows Danny's in danger, but from whom and what is unclear.

Mother stopped to converse with another spy, hurriedly ordering them to do something in code just loud enough for both of them to hear. Damian's brows furrowed, but he didn't seem to understand the order either.

ok, think Danyal; Mother is frantic. She's never frantic; the only reasonable explanation was that she knew something, something she feared and was trying to prevent.

Whatever she knows, Damian has been informed of, but Danny hasn't. She's trusting Damian to follow her orders without argument, which they all know he will. But, she's not trusting Danny with knowing the situation; most likely because she believes he'll react irrationally.

Second, whatever, or whoever, caused this didn't do it because of Danny. In fact, they probably didn't even know he was here, or existed. Which meant an outsider, someone not of the league, was involved. (Was it Father? Batman does have quite a few interesting rogues, but what do they have to do with the league?)

which means Danny's existence here, in the past, is an accident.

ok, how can he use this to his advantage?

"Damian," Danny whispered, glancing at another spy rushing up to Mother and hurriedly whispering orders and reports.

Damian hummed, glancing back down the halls with tense shoulders. Yep, he definitely knew something was going on, and he did not like it.

The best way to get information out of people was to catch them off guard and keep them off balance. Best way to do that for Damian? go back and forth between acting normal and completely different. Oh, and doing the most obvious thing first is usually the least expected.

"Mother wouldn't happen to be planning on confronting grandfather, would she?" Danny asked, casually, studying an empty hall. (he remembered spying on her, overhearing her slowly start to question grandfather and what he stood for. It was only a matter of time before she tried to fight him. He just needed to know what was forcing her to do it before she was ready. Before Danny is supposed to die.)

Damian tensed, whirling back to face Danny like he'd been struck, "What?"

"We both know she's been questioning Grandfather for a while now, so it's not surprising that she's trying to usurp him. What I'm confused about is how rushed and..." Danny glanced at Mother, watching as she closed her eyes for just a moment before ordering her people again. "Frantic, she's acting."

Damian blinked at him, his eyes sharpening to study Danny closely. Now to put his acting skills to the true test.

Turning to Damian, Danny kept his body language open. Standing to attention, ready for a quick order from Mother, but nervously fiddling with his hidden knives, and eyes glancing around like he was scared Grandfather would jump out and attack them at any moment. Confusion on why the two of them are acting weird, but not confused enough to make his knowledge of Mother's plans suspicious.

He was Danyal Al Ghul, a Nine-year-old assassin, just pulled from his daily classes with no idea why; Because honestly, what could Mother possibly need both him and Damian for if she's planning on usurping Grandfather?

Damian glanced away, trying to figure out what he could and couldn't tell Danny. Mother most likely ordered him not to (due to his possible irrational actions), but Danny just revealed he knew and is fine with Mother's plans, which means he's not acting as they expected him to.

"Look," Damian started, watching Mother for a moment, before stepping closer to whisper, "I can't tell you right now, there's too much at risk and I need more time to lay it all out without making it confusing. but essentially," he glanced away, this time down a hall, he was lying then, "Mother was informed of some plans that put both of us in danger. Our job is to do as we're told and stay alive."

"Ok," Danny agreed, simply stepping back and turning to watch Mother again. Damian blinked at him in slight confusion, before his eyes widened like he had just realized something, and he turned back to face Mother.

Danny's old plans to be underestimated hadn't worked before, and they'll likely not work now. Which means he only had a limited amount of time to be underestimated before people caught on.

Damian knew him best; he's likely to have already caught on based on the fact that he just looked like he realised Danny tricked him into telling him more than he was supposed to. (It didn't confirm much, just the fact that whatever happened, put them in danger, but also didn't reveal that he's supposed to die in three days. interesting)

which was technically the plan, Danyal wouldn't have questioned anything, Danyal was loyal and didn't question orders. Danny just used one of the most obvious manipulation tactics he's been taught, and it only worked because of Danyal's established personality. Damian is sure to be suspicious of danny's actions from here on out.

Mother was the next most likely to catch on, and considering she knows he's snuck down into the caves to study the language, she already knows something's up. She'll keep a close eye on his movements from now on.

"Confirmation, Ra's is in the caves, but he has more guards than normal. We don't have enough people to take them out, without notifying him of your plans." Spy 1 reported, bowing to mother and waiting for her orders.

Mother's jaw tensed, her nails biting into her palms as she nervously recalculated. If Grandfather hasn't caught on to how strange she's been acting yet, that means he's been down in the cave for a while.

For either of two reasons, one, so he can verbally lay out his plans and evaluate if they actually make sense (which he does quite often, saying something out loud helps a surprising amount when you get stuck on something mentally).

Or two, for a 'ritual'. Or, in other words, taking a dip in the nasty death slime. Whether it's him or someone else is up in the air.

Cool, so now Danny has to help Mother before she gets the three of them killed, because that's exactly what she's doing by rushing into things. Hopefully, Ra's will be caught by surprise long enough for this to work.

"I can get us in," Danny offered, tilting his head innocently to the side. Mother turned sharply and stared at him, calculating if he was being honest. She glanced at Damian with a brow raised. Damian nodded his head, quickly signing later to hold off having to explain.

Sighing, Mother straightened up and nodded her head, "Lead the way."

And wow, Danny was honestly expecting her to put up more of a fight than that. But as the saying goes, don't look a gift horse in the mouth.

Nodding his head back, Danny turned and silently marched down the hall to their left. "I found an entrance a while ago, it hasn't been used in years. If grandfather knows of it, he hasn't deemed it necessary to watch. There are no guards on it like the others. Watch your feet, the ground is very loose."

letting his nine-year-old instincts take over, Danny quietly led the growing group down the halls and into a room. The others stopped, glancing around like they'd never known of the room's existence, which maybe they hadn't. Danyal hadn't run into much of anyone while down here.

Casually, making his way to the back, Danny grabbed a specific book and then two others, making sure to use the correct order. A sharp click, then the sound of old gears filled the room. The others tensed, on high alert at the loud sound.

"Don't worry, the natural twists and turns of the passage muffle the sounds. He'll be none the wiser of our presence," Danny rolled his eyes, gesturing for Mother to go first.

"Follow the marked path, it leads to an opening right above the main chamber. Grandfather never looks up, not unless he's the one in the pit. If he is, you'll have to wait for him to get out before you're safe to move from the shadows."

"How long, exactly, have you been using this entrance?" Mother demanded, frowning down at him.

Danny glanced away, sheepishly picking his nails, "a while."

"Right," she huffed, turning and moving into the tunnel.

Turning, Danny held out his hand for his brother. He had a feeling things were about to get crazy, or crazier than it was right now, at least. He'll just have to use this time to be as close to his brother as he can. (he still really wants to punch him, though; it's the least he deserves for killing him.)

Danny wasn't sure what was going on, or how long he'll be stuck in the past before Clockwork inevitably finds him (and he will, Clockwork would have warned him if this was supposed to happen. the fact he hadn't? Meant nothing good, but he trusted his mentor, he'd find Danny. He always did.) but he'd survive, he'd be fine.

Damian reached out and took his hand, turning to pull Danny down the tunnel with tense shoulders.

Danny squeezed his twin's hand, getting a squeeze back a moment later.

[hungrydata]

Ok so, ik I'm busy, but I can't NOT talk about the new episode. So...

SPOILER WARNING FOR EPISODE 5 OF THE AMAZING DIGITAL CIRCUS

I won't write an essay now, but holy gosh moly. This episode was great. And I hate that it ends with a cliffhanger. But it makes sense since Goose said that eps 5&6 were focused on both Jax & Ragatha, so they are very likely tied together (hopefully we don't have to wait another 6 months, but you also can't rush art of course)

I also don't want to break down the episode, there are people who can do that way better than me. I just wanna talk about some fun stuff.

First of all, I tried my best to figure out what everbody's saying here (Only Jax is subtitled in english, however the other two are as well in other languages, so I used them if I had difficulties with what they're saying):

everything I am not 100% sure about or was roughly translated via the different language subtitles, is written in brackets

JAX: I very much did not enjoy that one in the slightest. If we ever do anything even close to that again, I'm getting violent, and I'm going to kill Ragatha.

GANGLE: Uh... I... don't really think it [brought out the best in me], even if it [was the cause of my mask].

RAGATHA: Oh, I really do not think [I was that innocent at] that time, I [did release] (?) some things I normally never say.

I know that some of this is not accurate or something is missing, but it's really difficult to understand what Ragatha and Gangle are saying. Therefore if you know anything, help is very much appreciated!

_______________________________________________

Now I wanna talk about rather obscure stuff. Like Kinger being right handed. I never posted anything about it, but I discussed with my friend about what each circus member's dominant hand was (bc I was bored, can you blame me?) and while I still think that the animators just use whatever looks good and can bring the message across the best (like Gangle sometimes drawing with her left hand and with her right hand, based on what perspective we view her, or how basically most characters use their left and right hand for difficult tasks equally, just so that the viewers can see it better, and it's probably easier to animate as well if you don't have to think about it)

Anyways, Kinger is right handed confirmed to me. (Jax is left handed, tho I need to rewatch all episodes and shorts on Glitch's channel to get more information about that, same with the other chars, tho I'm 98% convinced that both Jax and Gangle are left handed, tho that might just be delusion idk)

Btw the Anime and Intermission section were beautiful. Now we know why it took so long, but it was definitely worth it.

Also RIBBUN AND MAID DRESS HALLELUJAH!

ngl this looks funny

I feel like the shippers are going crazy with this one, especially people who ship Funnybunny (and the Bunnydoll Nation is either in shambles or enjoy it as much as the time Ragatha got deep fried.)

As a Ribbun enjoyer, I am definitely eating the toxic crumbs up like Jax did eat Gangle. Also thank you Goose for giving us so many great catchphrases that I am going to use from now on.

Also, THE LORE. And why can I genuinely relate so much with Jax. Why. Idk how to feel about this. And he actually cares let's gooo!

And I gotta say. Love the beef between Jax and Ragatha, and I also like the friendship between Jax and Pomni that slowly but surely develops. I also like the detail that here, Pomni votes against the maid dress. I could imagine that she just thinks it's childish, but it's also a sign that she knows Jax would hate it and wouldn't want to stir chaos.

ALSO HE SAID THE LINE HE SAID THE LINE!

You detached it yourself, idiot.

Welp I'm outta pictures to post here. There's alot more like Jax having a friend that looks like a frog, and Goose mentioned in one post that the person that abstracted before Kaufmo was called Ribbit (yk, like the sound a frog makes). I thinke there's likely a connection. And considering that Pomni was supposed to be a frog first, maybe that's how Jax and Pomni also will become closer friends. Can't wait for the next episode

And knowing what Goose said, it's not gonna be a wholesome one. After all, even tho 5&6 are split between Ragatha and Jax, this was still the Ragatha episode, and the next one will be "more centered" around Jax. I'm scared.

Also as much as it pains me, I think Gangle will be the one to abstract. The fact that she didn't have an evil doppelganger and with the teaser of her symbol loading, it's too much of a coincidence to not happen. Pls don't Gangle you're my baby ;;-;;.

(so much so to "not an essay" lmao. "Not an essay" my ass)

Also. DaY 172 bc yes

[realcleverscience]

I don't have access to the full article, but it seems like there's some misunderstanding of it, based on what I've seen. For instance, there's a good breakdown of many of the paper's issues here.

But here's the basic point: This paper doesn't show that AI rots your brain. What it shows (if anything) is that you use less of it (or, being charitable, different parts of it) when using AI under specific conditions.

So yeah, obviously brain activity will be different as will other things like recall. But this doesn't show ai brain rot. It shows cognitive offloading. By analogy, your brain shows different patterns when you use a calculator compared to computing mentally. This doesn't mean calculators make you dumber.

That said, where the ai critics are absolutely correct is that if students use AI *instead* of first learning the skills themselves, that that will stunt that kind of development. Additionally, there are absolutely situations where offloading thinking to AIs can be detrimental. However, this doesn't mean that using AI will make one dumber or that it has no place.

There are lots of situations where cognitive offloading can be useful. This is one reason why companies hire people: To help share the thinking-load. Does hiring people make one dumber? Does having an assistant make one dumber? Not inherently. It depends on one's own cognitive development and how they use the assistance.

I will also add that technologies tend to swap skills. Most younger people can't change the ribbon in a typewriter, but they may find it easier to convert files to pdf than seniors. Similarly, people may not memorize phone numbers anymore, but I'm not convinced that this is showing or causing a general decline in memorization abilities - or that it's necessarily such a bad thing that we rely on notes and don't just memorize everything. Put another way: While calculators may not inherently erode math skills, they can allow for such skills to erode, esp when one only rarely does math at all. That being said, I don't think most people think we should ban calculators, even if it can have this effect on some people.

Anyways, I'm straying from the point which is that most people are misunderstanding the study. All it shows is that people are less cognitively engaged when offloading thinking tasks. This isn't surprising. It's practically the point of having an AI assistant.

p.s. Also interesting from the original post: "People with strong cognitive baselines showed HIGHER neural connectivity when using AI than chronic users. But chronic AI users forced to work without it? They performed worse than people who never used AI at all. The solution isn't to ban AI. It's to use it strategically."

[takenbypeter]

Ahem… I would like to request a fic with Bob where the reader has never been kissed before >:3 and is in love with him heh and is almost as nervous and awkward as he is

Case Of The Giggles

Bob Reynolds x reader 

Words: 971

A/N: you know I LOVE first kiss storiesssss! I actually have one ready for Bob that I’m planning on posting later but it wasn’t awkward enough so I wrote this one too! Anyways I hope you love it 🫶

Despite what people told you, you felt bad for being considered a late bloomer. 

It wasn’t some big secret that you hid, but it wasn’t something you bragged about either. 

Never been in a relationship. Never had your first kiss. 

Frankly you honestly just found it difficult to even talk to men. But then came Bob. 

Bob was simple. 

Not in his emotions but in the way he connected with people—the way he connected with you. 

It started with one simple conversation that led to a deep one and suddenly you two were like kindred spirits. Linked together. 

He found something hilarious? He had to show you. 

You saw a book you’d think he’d like? Shared it with him. 

You two shared your good days and bad days together and in time, the moments shared had you questioning if you had actual deep feelings for the man. And after some contemplating you realized…you did. 

Everything about that thought made you nervous. 

From the thought of what confessing could do to your friendship. To the idea of what would happen if you actually got together. It all created one huge tangled ball in your stomach, one that you clearly were not doing good at hiding. Eventually the ball of feelings came out, not from you first but actually from Bob. Which led to your first date which was why you two were sat, side by side on a picnic table a bit away from an ice cream stand. 

Bob mentioned an inside joke, one that always made you crack up and instead of the usual laugh that he loved hearing, he was met with a single smile as your eyes then went back to the cup in your hand. 

“Okay,” he set his own cold delicacy down, turning to you again, “Where are you?”

“Huh?” You asked, your mind coming back down to earth. 

“What are you doing?”

You shook your head at his question, “just thinking,” was what you said, “about how we ended up here,” you said and he laughed. 

“We took a cab.”

You shot him a look as a smile crept onto your lips, “you know that’s not what I meant.”

“I know.”

You exhaled a deep sigh, closing your eyes and then opening them. “I’m thinking about how disastrous this could all go,” you said, sending him an unsure smile. You knew you should be happy about him and you—and you were. But you also had this gut wrenching feeling that you would do something to mess it up. And while you would be afraid to share that thought with anyone else you weren’t afraid to share it with Bob. 

“It’s not going to go disastrously,” he assured, finding himself being the positive one for once when usually you were. 

You two sat quietly, finding yourselves lost in your ice creams. His voice cut through the silence, “do you want to know what I’m thinking about?”

You nodded, setting your ice cream down, “sure.”

He took a breath, something he’s gotten into the habit of when he expressed himself, something he actually picked up from you. 

“I’m thinking about,” his eyes looked up and down your face, his features softening, finding solace in them, “how pretty you look under these lights.” Your lips curved but you did your best to contain your smile. He could easily see right through you. “I’m thinking about how lucky I am to have met you,” he paused again, his fingers grazing yours that sat on the bench between you two, “I’m thinking about how happy I am when I’m with you.”

After that one, you realized just how close you two were. You felt his body heat draw near as he did and just when he was going to meet you, you of course just had to get the nervous giggles. Laughing a bit you pushed him away from you creating a distance again. 

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” you said, “it’s not you I’m just…” you straightened again your laughter dying out more embarrassed now, “nervous.”

His expression shifted into one of surprise. 

“You’re nervous? Join the club.”

“You’re nervous?”

“Are you kidding me? You should see how twisted my insides are just thinking about even the possibility of getting to kiss you right now.”

You laughed again causing him to smile. 

“Don’t laugh!” He commanded. 

“I’m sorry!” You shouted back. 

You became serious just for a moment while he stared at you. At the forced silence you both burst into a light case of the giggles until it quieted down. 

“Okay stop. I’m gonna kiss you now.”

With your nerves still present but reduced, you straighten your posture, “okay, do it.”

You stood still, heart still awry as he neared. His hand reached up to your jaw holding you secure and after what felt like an eternity, his lips met yours. 

Your facial muscles that were ready to tug upwards into another fit of laughter instead relaxed as you followed his lead. 

Unlike you, Bob moved with purpose. Like he was giving his whole heart to you in this small innocent kiss and you were receiving it and giving your own right back to him. 

Although you were uncertain about how your limbs were moving you weren’t focused on that. Instead you were focused on the way he felt. 

His lips were warm against yours. 

Warm. Inviting. Sweet. Chocolatey and minty. 

You savored his taste, while he did yours until his lips smiled as he leaned away. 

You looked at him curiously, as he beamed back at you. “Now I have the privilege of telling people I was your first kiss,” he said, causing you to mirror his expression but he met you again for a quick kiss, “and your second.” He repeated the action again before saying, “and your third.”

[paxaz535]

SLOW SIMMER - THREE

dallas!paige x privatechef!azzi

note: i love tlou2 sm like i can’t stop playing lol

anyways here you go!

———

paige was still getting used to azzi living in her home. it wasn’t the worst thing ever—obviously, because paige had been tearing up every meal since azzi got there—but it still felt… different having someone else in her space. not a bad different. just… different.

azzi wasn’t loud. something paige would forever be grateful for. the chef mostly kept to herself unless she wanted to socialize, and paige respected that.

which is exactly why, when dijonai, maddy, lyss, and arike said they wanted to meet “the chef,” paige hesitated. her teammates weren’t exactly… subtle. she didn’t want to overwhelm azzi or scare her off before she really got comfortable.

so yeah, she was definitely gonna talk to azzi about it first.

-

azzi was currently getting ready to go to the store, wanting to restock before anything got too empty. she had on something simple—black baggy jeans with a white top. the weather was nice today.

her goddess braids were pulled back into a low ponytail, a few soft curls framing her face. she looked cute.

she slipped on her crocs, grabbed her keys, and made her way to the door. when she stepped out, she saw paige on the couch, eyes glued to the tv—probably watching the white lotus again.

paige turned her head at the sound of azzi’s footsteps and smiled softly when she saw her. “heading to the store?”

azzi gave a nod. “yeah, gonna restock early. you doing anything later?”

paige shook her head. they had an early practice this morning, so the rest of her day was wide open. “nah, i’m free.”

“i don’t know how long i’ll be, but i’ll text you when i’m on my way back,” azzi said, letting out a small laugh as she scratched at her neck. “might need help though.”

paige sat up a little straighter. “no, yeah—of course. just let me know when.”

azzi nodded once more, hand on the doorknob. “see you later.”

“bye, fudd,” paige said, her voice soft.

the door clicked shut behind her.

paige leaned her head back against the couch, letting out a soft breath through her nose. the apartment was quiet again, but not in a bad way. she actually liked the new routine—waking up to the smell of something good in the kitchen, running into azzi in passing, sharing random little conversations between meals and naps.

it was weird. but it was also kinda… nice.

meanwhile, azzi made her way through the store with practiced ease. she was focused, going aisle by aisle, checking her notes app and glancing at prices. she wasn’t just cooking for herself anymore—this was paige bueckers, and azzi wasn’t about to mess anything up.

as she turned into the produce section, reaching for a bunch of cilantro, she heard a small gasp behind her.

“oh my god. allie.”

“no way. is that—?”

azzi turned slightly, already catching the familiar glimmer of recognition in both of their eyes.

“you’re azzi fudd, right?” one of the girls asked, her voice a little too loud for how quiet the store was. azzi smiled softly, nodding.

“yeah, that’s me.”

“we love your cooking account. like, seriously. that chicken parmesan you posted a while back? we tried to make it and failed miserably,” the other girl—caroline—gushed. allie just nodded beside her, clearly starstruck.

azzi laughed, “thank you, that’s sweet. and hey, cooking’s like hooping. takes practice.”

the two fans exchanged glances. “can we get a picture?”azzi didn’t like saying no to people who showed her support so she immediately nodded her head. “Of course, come on,”

they took the pictures and looked at the girl. “i’m guessing we’re gonna be seeing you a lot more?” the brunette asked. azzi chuckled before nodding her head. “yeah, maybe.”

they offered to bag her groceries when she checked out, which made her chuckle. “you don’t have to do that,” she said, but they insisted.

“it was a pleasure to meet you, azzi. we’ll see you soon?” they asked hopefully. azzi laughed softly before turning to her car. “see you ladies soon!” she called over her shoulder.

she could hear them giggling when she reached her car, making her heart warm.

by the time she made it, her phone buzzed.

paige

you good?

azzi smiled, brushing a curl from her forehead.

azzi

yeah, almost done

headed back now

paige

cool

i’m up if you need help

azzi stared at the screen for a second longer, heart doing a little flip. she didn’t expect her to check in like that, but it felt… sweet.

azzi

i’ll be home in 10

have those arms ready

paige

lol bet

azzi slid into the driver’s seat, still feeling the leftover warmth from the fan interaction. she pulled out of the parking lot and glanced up at the sky, soft blue and cloudless.

she still couldn’t believe it sometimes.

living in paige bueckers’ house.

cooking for her.

getting texted by her.

yeah… she really was starting to like it here.

-

azzi pulled into the driveway with the music low, humming along to the track playing through the speakers. the bags in her trunk weren’t too heavy, but she still appreciated the idea of help—especially when it came from someone who actually offered, not out of obligation.

as she opened the front door with her hip, balancing one bag on her forearm and another in her hand, she was met with the familiar smell of a candle paige must’ve lit. sandalwood and something warm.

“i’m back,” she called out, her voice carrying through the quiet apartment.

paige emerged from around the corner, hair pulled up in a bun now, wearing a black compression shirt and shorts. her feet were bare with slides and her energy was relaxed.

“perfect timing.” she walked over and immediately took the heavier bags from azzi’s arm, brushing past her gently. “you didn’t even text me,” she added, glancing over her shoulder.

“i was about to,” azzi smirked. “but then i figured i’d just surprise you.”

“you really out here trusting me to not be napping.”

“yeah well… if you were, i would’ve woke you up,” she said with a playful shrug.

they moved together in quiet rhythm, unloading bags and putting things away. azzi pointed out a couple new ingredients she picked up to experiment with, paige nodded along, eyes half-focused but still listening.

azzi sighed, the two of them finished stocking up the kitchen. “okay, go do something while i figure out what we’re gonna eat.” she told the woman.

paige just smiled before heading towards her room. “what would i do without you, fudd?”

“you’d probably still be eating take out.”

paige laughed.

-

after a couple hours, she found azzi in the kitchen, barefoot, hair pulled back, quietly focused on chopping up something that smelled incredible. garlic, maybe butter, a little spice—paige wasn’t sure, but it was working. her mouth watered on instinct.

“hey,” paige said casually as she leaned against the counter.

azzi looked up, giving her a soft smile. “hey.”

paige rubbed the back of her neck, suddenly realizing this was the first time she was actually nervous to talk to someone in her own house. “so… my teammates kind of want to meet you.”

azzi paused her chopping. “oh?”

“yeah,” paige exhaled, watching her reaction. “they’ve been bugging me since the first day i mentioned you were a chef. they’re curious.”

azzi tilted her head, lips twitching with a barely-there grin. “and by curious you mean hungry.”

“basically.” paige laughed. “but also nosy. they’ll want to ask a million questions. get all up in your space. it’s not… quiet.”

azzi leaned back on her heels, wiping her hands on a towel. “you worried i’ll run?”

paige shrugged, smirking a little. “i’m not saying i wouldn’t be sad if you did.”

azzi chuckled. “i’m not going anywhere, bueckers.”

paige tried not to look too pleased at that. “so… is it cool if they come over tomorrow night?”

“sure,” azzi said with a nod, turning back to the cutting board. “but if they’re gonna be that loud, they better eat every last bite.”

paige grinned. “deal.”

paige made her way to her room. she immediately texted the group chat back.

fly 🪽 fly

dijonai

so… what’d she say?

paige

she said she’d love to meet y’all.

i’m begging—please don’t scare her away.

maddy

tell that to nai and lyss.

you know they be doing too much sometimes.

lyss

oh please.

i’m a really chill person.

paige

try again.

lyss

whatever.

arike

i know what and what not to do when i’m first meeting someone.

trust me.

paige

whatever y’all say.

just be here

and please dress nice

arike

damn p.

safe to say you want us to impress your girl.

paige

she’s not my girl.

dijonai

not yet, that is.

it’s okay, you’ll realize it soon.

paige

bro.

i promise i’ll tell her y’all bailed.

maddy

ALRIGHT chill 💀

paige was chuckling at her phone, fingers still scrolling through the chaos in the groupchat. she sometimes hated her teammates—but mostly, she loved them. they were ridiculous, sure, but they were hers.

she reread arike’s message about “impressing her girl” and rolled her eyes, even though her lips tugged into a smile. azzi wasn’t her girl. not in the way they were all hinting at. and yet… there was something there, something warm and quiet that settled in her chest when she thought about her.

the way azzi hummed while she cooked. how she always asked if paige had eaten before thinking of herself. how she smelled like she belonged—like vanilla and coconut and the soft comfort of home.

paige set her phone down, leaning back into the couch with a soft sigh. her team was relentless. but maybe, just maybe, they weren’t that far off.

“paige! food’s ready!”

the call pulled her from her thoughts like a tether. she sat up quickly, glancing once at her phone before tossing it onto the cushion beside her. as much as her team liked to tease, they weren’t wrong about one thing—azzi’s food was something to look forward to. every time.

she stood, stretching briefly before heading toward the kitchen. the closer she got, the stronger the scent hit her—something savory, warm, and laced with herbs she couldn’t name but already craved.

“what’d you make this time?” she asked as she rounded the corner.

azzi was standing by the stove, apron tied around her waist, a soft smile on her face. “you’ll see. just sit down.”

paige raised a brow. “you hiding it?”

“i’m presenting it.” azzi corrected with a playful roll of her eyes. “you ever let a chef have their moment?”

paige held up her hands in surrender, grinning. “alright, alright. i’ll wait.”

but not without staring just a second too long. not at the plate—at her.

azzi felt it too—paige’s stare lingered a beat longer than usual, and while she didn’t look up right away, she definitely noticed. her fingers were careful as she plated the food, placing everything just how she liked it. she worked in silence, the kind that didn’t feel awkward. it felt full. warm.

“okay,” she finally said, sliding the plate in front of paige. “chicken shawarma with lemon rice, garlic roasted carrots, and a little cucumber-yogurt salad on the side. fresh naan too, because… why not?”

paige blinked down at the plate. “azzi. what the hell.”

“what?” azzi bit her bottom lip, holding back a smile. “too much?”

“no,” paige muttered, picking up her fork. “you’re trying to ruin takeout for me forever, huh?”

azzi finally let the smile come through. “that’s kind of the job.”

they both laughed softly, and paige took her first bite. her eyes closed dramatically.

“i’m serious,” she said after a pause. “you’re dangerous.”

azzi shrugged, wiping her hands on her apron. “you already knew that.”

paige opened one eye, smirking. “no, i didn’t. but i’m learning.”

paige set her fork down for a second, resting her elbow on the counter and letting her chin fall into her hand. “and i’m guessing there’s a lot more i don’t know yet.”

azzi leaned back slightly, arms folding as she smiled—this slow, subtle thing that made paige’s chest feel warm. “probably,” she said. “but i’m not that complicated.”

“you sure about that?”

azzi tilted her head, “are you?”

paige let out a soft laugh, a short exhale through her nose. “no,” she admitted. “not even a little.”

“then i guess we’re even,” azzi murmured, voice quiet but steady. she turned to grab her own plate and joined paige at the counter.

it was quiet again—but this time it felt intentional, like they were both letting the moment settle.

comfortable. warm. just enough to make azzi wonder what else paige might want to learn.

then��

azzi remembered.

jon’s text.

“hey, my brothers are like huge fans. they wanted a picture… if that’s okay?”

paige nodded her head quickly, “of course.”

paige straightened up in her seat a little, wiping her mouth with the napkin even though there was barely anything there. “how do you wanna do it? you want me to come over there?”

azzi shook her head, already pulling her phone out and walking around the counter to stand behind paige. “no, you stay. this’ll be quick.”

she opened her camera app and flipped to the front-facing lens, angling it just enough to catch them both. paige leaned in slightly, a relaxed smile tugging at her lips. azzi snapped the picture, then two more just in case, paige’s smile growing wider with each one.

“got it,” azzi grinned, scrolling through them quickly before sending one to the group chat with her brothers.

azzi

boom

y’all better not make this weird

jon

😭😭😭 YO

jose

that’s crazy. actual legends only.

tim

tell her we said thank you!

and also ask her if she hoop too 👀

azzi rolled her eyes but smiled anyway.

“they’re happy,” she muttered, locking her phone.

“i gathered,” paige chuckled. “do you hoop too?”

azzi looked at her with a smirk. “no. i just feed the ones who do.”

paige raised a brow, clearly amused. “lucky us.”

-

the next morning started slower than the last. sunlight spilled through the apartment windows, painting warm stripes across the hardwood floor.

paige was still in her room, probably just waking up, and azzi was already in the kitchen. this time, she moved a little slower, humming something under her breath as she sliced strawberries and placed them into a bowl.

she wasn’t rushing to cook — today felt lighter. easier. she made some toast, scrambled eggs, and those crispy-edged pancakes again because… why not?

she’d just finished plating everything when soft footsteps echoed down the hall. azzi didn’t turn — she already knew who it was.

“god, i don’t think i’ll ever get used to the kitchen smelling like this,” paige said as she sat down.

azzi chuckled, plating the food and handing it to her. “get used to it, bueckers. it’s not changing anytime soon.”

paige grinned, popping a piece of egg into her mouth. azzi was already tidying up, starting on the dishes right away.

“should i wear something fancy for tonight or…?” azzi asked curiously, glancing over her shoulder. she took first impressions seriously, but she didn’t want to go overboard either.

paige sipped her orange juice before answering. “you can wear whatever you feel comfortable in. i told them to wear something nice, though.”

azzi nodded, making a mental note. she probably wasn’t going for a dress, but a clean, put-together outfit should do the trick.

“did they want anything specific, or what?”

paige finished up her breakfast, her tongue gliding over her lips. “surprise us. they’ll like whatever.”

azzi smiled, a little spark of excitement in her eyes. “okay, challenge accepted.” she started clearing the counter, already running ideas through her mind.

paige watched her for a moment, feeling a warmth she couldn’t quite explain. maybe it was the way azzi took pride in even the smallest things. or maybe it was just the quiet comfort of having someone like her around.

“you know,” paige said, her voice softening, “i’m glad you’re here.”

azzi paused, looking up with a small smile. “me too.”

paige just looked a bit longer before standing. “thank you for breakfast. i’m gonna go shower.”

azzi nodded as she washed her hands. “i’m gonna go shower too. you’re welcome, by the way.”

paige smiled, making her way toward her room. “you’re a blessing, fudd!” she called over her shoulder.

azzi chuckled softly, shaking her head to herself. the quiet moments like these made everything feel a little more like home.

-

“i’m excited to meet her!” maddy beamed as she sat in the passenger seat, her legs criss-crossed while dijonai drove and lyss lounged in the backseat, scrolling through her phone.

“don’t scare her off,” dijonai warned, glancing over with a smirk. “paige actually likes this one.”

“likes her?” lyss repeated, eyes flicking up. “i thought she was just her chef.”

“exactly,” dijonai said with a pointed look through the rearview mirror. “and paige don’t just like anyone being in her house.”

maddy laughed, kicking her feet a little. “well now i’m even more excited.”

“you just want free food,” lyss muttered.

maddy turned and grinned. “yeah… and to meet the girl who somehow got paige to act like a softie.”

paige was currently setting up her playstation in the front room, knowing arike and lyss would definitely want to play with her the moment they walked in. she had already cleared off the coffee table, made sure the controllers were charged, and even tossed a few extra pillows on the couch just in case they stayed longer than expected.

she glanced at the time—still a little early—but she liked being ready. and if she was being honest, having everything in place also kept her from overthinking.

she tried not to admit it out loud, but she really wanted the night to go well. for azzi’s sake. and… maybe for hers, too.

azzi came out her room with an outfit she thought was good. tongue tied tinted flared jeans with a black tube top that shaped her body perfectly. she put her braids in a half up half down style while still keeping it out of her face.

she did a bit a make up before stepping out of the room. “paige, is this okay?”

paige turned around and froze, the hdmi cord in her hand completely forgotten. her eyes dragged slowly from azzi’s jeans to the way the tube top hugged her figure, then up to the soft, confident look on her face.

“uh…” paige blinked, almost forgetting how to speak. “yeah. yeah, that’s definitely… okay.”

azzi raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “you sure?”

paige coughed and nodded, setting the cord down. “positive. they’re gonna lose their minds.”

azzi smiled, walking further into the room. “not too much, though. i don’t wanna give your friends a heart attack before dinner.”

paige smirked. “well, no promises when dijonai sees you. she has no filter.”

“great,” azzi said, tugging lightly at her top and glancing at the setup. “you almost done?”

“almost.” paige cleared her throat and turned back around, cheeks still a little pink. “but now i gotta keep them from embarrassing me.”

azzi grinned, settling on the couch. “that’s not my job. i just cook.”

“you say that now,” paige muttered, plugging in the last wire, “but i got a feeling they’re gonna like you even more than your food.”

azzi smiled quietly to herself, not denying it.

their conversation was cut short when loud knocking echoed through the apartment, followed by overlapping voices and laughter right outside the door.

“that’s them,” paige muttered, already making her way over.

azzi stood, brushing her hands over her jeans and taking a quiet breath to center herself.

as soon as paige opened the door, chaos poured in—dijonai was the first one through, talking mid-sentence with a grin on her face, followed by maddy, arike, and lyss, all talking over each other.

“damn, paige, you didn’t tell us your place looked like this,” arike said, stepping in and looking around.

“arike, you’re hella late.” dijonai spoke.

“where’s the chef? we came for the food!” lyss teased, scanning the room dramatically.

azzi offered a small wave, standing by the couch. “hi. that would be me.”

they all turned at once, and for a second, no one said anything.

then—

“ohhh, okayyy, paige,” dijonai said, smirking.

“this who’s been feeding you?” maddy asked, already grinning. “yeah, we see the vision.”

paige groaned. “y’all—please.”

azzi just laughed, the nerves slowly fading under the sound of their teasing. they were loud, sure—but it felt more like energy than chaos. and she could work with that.

“we’re just saying, girl, you are beautiful,” maddy said, plopping down at the island with a wide smile. dijonai slid into the seat beside her, nodding in full agreement while the others lingered nearby, still checking out the space.

azzi blushed, ducking her head for a second before meeting their eyes again. “thank you. you’re all very beautiful too!”

“don’t gas us,” arike grinned, crossing her arms. “we came here for food, not compliments—though we’ll take both.”

“speak for yourself,” lyss said, eyeing the kitchen like it was a five-star restaurant. “i’ve heard too much about your cooking, i’m ready to be converted.”

paige leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching the exchange with a soft smile. they weren’t scaring azzi off—if anything, she was handling them with ease.

azzi looked around at the girls, her nerves gone. “well, y’all are in luck. i made a few things already. appetizers first?”

“you’re a queen,” dijonai nodded, already sitting up straighter.

paige raised an eyebrow, nudging her with a smirk. “what happened to manners?”

dijonai grinned. “please, chef fudd. feed the people.”

azzi laughed, already turning to grab the plates. the room buzzed around her, light and full of warmth. she could get used to this.

azzi set a few plates on the island—mini crab cakes with a spicy aioli, baked mac and cheese bites, and fresh caprese skewers. everything looked golden, colorful, and just the right amount of fancy without trying too hard.

“oh, she’s not playing,” lyss muttered under her breath, already reaching for a skewer.

“hold on, hold on,” maddy said, pulling out her phone. “this is too pretty not to post.”

“not you trying to soft launch azzi’s food before even tasting it,” paige teased from the other side of the island.

“girl, this food soft launching itself,” dijonai said with a mouthful of mac and cheese bite. “azzi, you tryna marry someone, or…?”

azzi turned, feigning confusion. “what?”

“you cooking like you tryna wife somebody up,” arike added. “this ain’t normal behavior.”

azzi laughed, cheeks warm again. “well, it’s just what i do.”

“nah,” lyss said, shaking her head after biting into a crab cake. “this is talent. dangerous talent.”

paige caught azzi’s eyes from across the island, a smile tugging at her lips. azzi didn’t say anything—she just offered a small shrug, like it wasn’t a big deal. but the way everyone was looking at her said otherwise.

and as the group kept eating, talking, and laughing, paige felt herself relax even more. they liked her—just like she knew they would. but something about seeing azzi fit like this?

that made her stomach flutter. and not from the food.

“the main dish should be ready in a few, sorry for the delay,” azzi said softly, watching everyone enjoy the appetizers with a small smile.

dijonai waved her off. “oh, girl, you’re fine. i wanna get to know you more anyways.”

maddy nodded in agreement, already nibbling on another bite. “yeah, no complaints here. you could take all night if you want.”

“it gives me time to beat paige and arike’s ass in 2k,” lyss chimed in, already making her way toward the living room with a confident bounce in her step.

paige and arike locked eyes from across the island, mirroring each other’s unimpressed expression.

“she delusional as hell,” they said in sync before cracking up, both of them following lyss with zero urgency but all the intent to humble her.

azzi just laughed under her breath, feeling the ease in the room. dijonai stayed at the island, watching her with genuine curiosity.

“so what made you start cooking like this?” she asked, leaning her elbow on the counter.

azzi wiped her hands on a dish towel before answering, “honestly? it started with my mom. she used to make me help with every meal growing up. by the time i was sixteen, i was cooking for my whole family.”

“see, that’s what i’m talking about,” dijonai said with a grin. “you got a gift.”

azzi smiled, just a little shy but still proud. “thank you. i just… really love it.”

“well, keep loving it,” maddy added, popping the last mac bite in her mouth. “’cause we’re not letting you go anytime soon.”

azzi laughed, her eyes flicking between maddy and dijonai. “you say that now, wait till y’all get tired of me being all in the kitchen every five seconds.”

“never,” dijonai said quickly. “you feed people. you could walk around here narrating your whole life and i’d still be like, ‘what’s for dinner?’”

“facts,” maddy added. “you don’t understand what you’ve done to us already.”

azzi shook her head, her grin widening. “y’all are dramatic.”

“nah, paige been acting different since you moved in,” dijonai said, sitting up straighter. “girl be smiling at her phone and everything. smiling. you know how rare that is?”

azzi’s eyes widened slightly, her voice quiet but playful. “oh yeah?”

maddy nodded, sipping her water. “mhmm. we’ve been clocked it. we were like ‘who got miss bueckers giggling?’ turns out it was you.”

azzi glanced toward the living room where paige and the others were now yelling at the tv screen. her face warmed, but she played it off, going back to the stove. “well… if it’s the food making her smile, then i’ll take that as a win.”

“sure,” dijonai said with a smirk. “let’s pretend it’s just the food.”

azzi didn’t say anything else, but the slight shake of her head and the way her smile lingered said everything. the kitchen smelled like garlic and spice, laughter echoed from the living room, and for once… it didn’t feel like work.

it felt like belonging.

“what’s cookin’ anyway?” maddy asked, resting her chin in her hand as she leaned over the island.

azzi stirred something in the pan before glancing back at them. “garlic butter salmon, lemon roasted potatoes, asparagus… and a honey glaze for the salmon on the side in case y’all like a little extra sweetness.”

dijonai blinked. “girl. girl. you tryna make us propose or what?”

azzi laughed, shaking her head as she plated the roasted potatoes onto a serving tray. “nah, i just want y’all to leave full and happy.”

“you already checked one of those off,” maddy said. “if this salmon hits like those crab cakes did, i’mma cry.”

“don’t be dramatic,” azzi teased, placing the tray in the warming drawer.

“i’m dead serious,” maddy said. “i got no shame. tears will be shed.”

from the living room, they suddenly heard lyss yell, “yo! what kind of cheat code did paige just use?!”

paige’s laugh followed immediately. “get better, lyss!”

“don’t let her talk to you like that!” arike shouted, though she was clearly laughing too.

azzi glanced toward the sound, and dijonai caught the way her smile softened. “they really like you, you know.”

“they’re cool,” azzi said, her tone low and fond. “i didn’t expect to feel this… comfortable. it’s only been a few days.”

“sometimes it don’t take long,” dijonai shrugged. “you fit in easy.”

azzi looked back down at the salmon, flipping it gently in the pan. “thanks… really.”

“we mean it,” maddy added. “this group? we don’t click with everybody. but with you—it’s natural.”

azzi stayed quiet, her chest warm. natural. she liked the sound of that. she glanced down at the salmon, then over her shoulder where the girls laughed like they’d known each other for years.

maybe it really didn’t take that long. maybe sometimes, it just clicked.

azzi plated the salmon carefully, brushing a thin layer of the honey glaze across the top of each fillet. the warmth in the kitchen wasn’t just from the stove—it was from the feeling settling in her chest, soft and steady.

behind her, dijonai and maddy were still chatting, but the energy had mellowed, like even they could feel it. something about the way azzi moved, so sure of herself in someone else’s home, but still gentle with it.

“alright,” azzi said after a beat, wiping her hands on a clean towel. “main course is done.”

dijonai and maddy both sat up straighter like kids in a classroom.

“you want help carrying it over?” maddy asked.

“nah, i got it. y’all relax.”

azzi moved with ease, bringing over the trays one by one and setting them on the island—salmon glistening under the kitchen lights, potatoes golden and crisp, asparagus sprinkled with sea salt and lemon zest. the whole apartment smelled unreal.

“what’s that smell?” paige’s voice came from the living room, footsteps following fast.

“heaven,” lyss answered before azzi even said anything.

the rest of the girls trailed in, their eyes immediately locking onto the food.

“oh hell yeah,” arike grinned, already heading for a plate. “this look like a celebration.”

paige didn’t say much at first—just stood there quietly, taking it all in. the way her teammates were hyped, the way azzi stood confidently beside the island, apron still tied around her waist, a little flour on her forearm.

“you’re insane,” paige finally said, almost under her breath. “this looks… perfect.”

azzi met her eyes, shrugging lightly. “just doing my job.”

paige held her gaze a second longer, then grabbed a plate. “you’re doing it too well.”

“then i’m doing it right,” azzi said with a small smirk, finally stepping back to let everyone dive in.

the kitchen filled with compliments, laughter, the scraping of chairs, and the clinking of silverware. azzi stood off to the side for a moment, watching it all, letting herself breathe it in.

this wasn’t just work anymore.

this was hers.

[punksyeet]

- Inked ❥

Plot: Four letters. One word. Ugh, ugh. Tats.

Warning: Hefty flirting & lots of kisses!

A/N: ngl i’ve had this fic sitting untouched in the drafts for a little while now, but when jey posted that delicious back shot yesterday, i took it as a sign. enjoy! 🖤

———————————————————————————————

“you headed out for the night?” my co-worker, jayla, asks, beginning to sterilize her equipment.

i nod, untying my bun and letting my curls run free. “hell yeah, girl. i’m beat.”

she giggles, nodding in agreement. “we did have a lot more walk-ins today than usual.”

i’ve been tattooing for a little over five years now.

and while it’s the most fun job in the world, it can also be super draining.

for a little backstory, growing up, i drew every chance i got.

on my chalkboard that i’d use to teach my (very finely educated) stuffed animals, in my notebooks during boring high school classes, you name it.

and the second i graduated, somehow acing all of those said classes, my grandpa brought me to his tattoo shop daily to shadow him and learn about his samoan culture.

now, years later, he’s no longer with us and i’m studying art in college, as well as working part time at a downtown new york tattoo shop.

throughout these five years, i’ve worked on some of the biggest polynesian names in wrestling: both of the uso twins, solo sikoa, tama tonga, and even jacob fatu.

my grandpa was super close with the entire fatu - anoa’i family, so it’s a huge honor to be trusted by all of them with something that’s so important to our culture and heritage.

“hey, isn’t that big convention at javits this weekend?” jayla asks, causing me to look up from fixing my hoodie strings and nod.

“fanatics fest yeah,” i reply. “why?”

her eyelids lower into a mischievous look, as she begins moving her eyebrows up and down.

i pop my neck back in confusion. “bitch, why are you looking at me like that?”

“isn’t your lover boy booked for saturday?” she replies, poking at my side.

“first of all,” i exclaim, folding my arms across my chest. “he’s not my lover boy. we’re just having fun, that’s all.”

she hums and mocks my action, folding her arms and raising an eyebrow. “and second?”

“second of all,” i continue. “did you not see how many times he sold out all of his shit? that man is gonna be booked and busy.”

“girl,” she exasperates, leaning back in her chair. “that man never misses an opportunity to see you. whenever he comes out here, his ass is always walking through this door with his tongue hanging out, just waiting to get his hands on you.”

“his tongue is not hanging out!” i scold, playfully shoving her arm.

“it basically is!” she scolds back between giggles, hitting me back playfully.

i sigh, sliding my purse onto my shoulder.

“seriously girl,” she continues, getting up to throw away her gloves and ink-filled paper towels. “that man is more whipped for you than whipped cream.”

i let out a breathless laugh, shaking my head. “well, the energy is reciprocated. and i’d love to see him this weekend. but if it’s not possible, i won’t be mad either. he’s booked and busy. and i love that for him.”

she dramatically sticks her bottom lip out and dabs away invisible tears. “loving watching your future husband succeed. it’s adorable!”

“bitch i’m leaving!” i tease, turning towards the door.

she bursts into laughter and playfully whacks my butt. “have a good night, girl. text me when you get home!”

“i will!” i call out, leaving and letting the door close behind me.

my journey home is peaceful, barely any traffic on the highway.

and as if on cue, the second i enter the driveway and shut my car off, my text tone dings.

i send a text over to jayla, as promised, before heading inside and getting ready for the night.

———————————————————————————————

it’s been another long shift of appointments and a couple walk-ins.

i’m exhausted, and i can confidently say that the only thing keeping me going all day has been the thought of reuniting with him.

“alright i’m outta here girl,” jayla announces, gathering her car keys and purse. “have fun with your man.”

i shoot her a death glare, to which she responds with blowing me a kiss and darting out the door.

i roll my eyes, smiling, and get back to disinfecting my chair.

just minutes later, the sound of the shop’s front door being pulled open and sneakers squeaking against the tile floor make my heart stop in my throat.

he’s here.

“appointment with the finest lady in the world?” josh calls out.

i roll my eyes, a smirk plastered on my lips. “no problem. let me go get her.”

he snickers, places two starbucks cups down on the counter, and walks over, immediately pulling me in for a hug.

his woodsy, almost vanilla like scent fills my nose as i rest my chin on his shoulder.

“missed you bae,” he exclaims, his hands lingering my waist as we pull away.

“i missed you too,” i reply, running my hands through his curls. “how’s everything been?”

he nods, licking his lower lip. “been good. how bout you, ma? you look good.”

“thank you,” i reply sweetly, heat immediately rushing to my cheeks. “been busy, but i’m managing.”

he smiles softly. “hell yeah you are, baby. i’m proud of you.”

i smile back and place a quick kiss on his lips.

“got your usual by the way,” he announces, tucking a curl behind my ear, nodding towards our drinks. “you still like that shit with enough caramel to make you drop dead after the first sip, right?”

i roll my eyes, playfully swatting his arm. “you’re such a hater.”

his smile turns into a smirk, gently pulling me in by my face for another kiss.

“come on playboy,” i exclaim, taking his hand and leading us to the chair once we pull away. “let’s finish that back.”

he chuckles, stopping once we get there to remove his shirt.

my panties are immediately soaked at the sight of his body, his biceps and chest about ten times bigger than the last time i saw him.

“like what you see, girl?” he teases, flexing his arms. “been workin’ out just for you.”

fuck he’s huge.

“don’t flatter yourself big boy,” i lie, rolling my eyes.

he smirks and lays down flat on his stomach, getting comfy on the chair.

i take a seat next to him and, as i’m putting a fresh set of gloves on, he looks over, laying his head on top of his folded arms.

i wipe down the area we’re about to work on with a baby wipe, before turning on my tattoo gun, the buzzing sound immediately filling the room.

“look at you with all your supplies n shit,” he coos, watching me. “you look like such a pro, baby.”

i smile at the compliment, kiss his temple as a thank you, and pull up instagram to begin my livestream.

he whips out his phone and joins immediately, angling it against the backrest so he can watch it.

“hey everyone!” i greet my already hundreds of viewers.

a bunch of his fangirls immediately flood the comments.

Omg I know that back from anywhere! 😻

HI JEYYY 🥹

The duo is back 🙂‍↕️❤️

FOUR LETTERS ONE WORD UGH UGH YEET 😍🙌🏼

His back 🥵🥵

he chuckles, watching the comments roll by.

i begin the process, stretching out his skin with one hand and free-drawing with the other.

about ten minutes in, he joins the live as a guest to show his angle and the comments go nuts.

JEYYYYY 🥹😍

The man of the hour and he looks so fine! 😮‍💨🤤

YEET! 🙌🏼❤️

“wassup yall? yeet!” he greets them, gritting his teeth to show off his gold grillz.

i smile to myself, listening to him interact with fans.

one question catches my attention though.

“don’t yall think they would be so cute together?” he reads the comment aloud.

i look up and raise an eyebrow at the camera. “bold of y’all to assume i’d ever date his goofy ass.”

his jaw practically drops open and i snicker in response, playfully whacking his butt.

the comments laugh at my response, quickly agreeing and dissing josh for his goofiness.

he sucks his teeth, laying his head back down. “man, yall are some damn bullies.”

eventually, we end the live and i lean over to grab his face and kiss him.

he kisses back, making sure to blow raspberries onto my lips before pulling away.

“bitch you’re gross!” i yell, wiping my mouth with my sleeve.

he laughs, digging his face into his arms before i can wipe it back onto him.

———————————————————————————————

“this shit straight fire mama,” josh compliments, flexing his back in one of the full body mirrors.

i smile, watching him, while taking off my gloves. “it looks amazing.”

“it really do,” he agrees, pulling out his phone to take selfies. “you did your thing with this, bae.”

i blush at the compliment, sitting back down to sterilize my tools. “thank you.”

“nah thank you,” he replies, walking up from behind me and wrapping his arms around me. “your talent is crazy, you know. gramps taught you well.”

my smile grows even wider, doing my very best to blink back tears. “that means the world to me, baby. thank you.”

he smiles and leans in, pressing a deep kiss to my temple.

i lean into his touch and reach up with one hand to hold his face, turning it to mine, and press my lips to his.

“you know i love you, right?” he asks once we pull away.

i nod, biting my lower lip. “mhm. i love you too.”

i brush our noses together before looking back down and finishing up cleaning.

by the time i’m done, josh is back in the mirror, admiring the finished piece all over again.

“you gonna let me wrap that up within the next hour?” i tease, folding my arms across my chest.

he chuckles, walking back over.

i grab some plastic wrap, just enough to cover the newest section, and stick multiple layers to his skin.

once he’s all good to go, he thanks me and puts his shirt back on.

“now,” he begins as we walk back up to the front of the shop. “how much do i owe your pretty self?”

he pulls out his wallet from his sweatpants pocket while saying that last part.

“josh,” i reply, throwing my purse over my shoulder. “babe, we do this every time. you know my grandpa never liked to charge you or your family. so i won’t either.”

he sighs, stepping closer. “baby, this shit took hours. i wanna take care of you. you deserve it.”

i shake my head, cupping his face. “it’s really okay. i promise.”

he smiles softly and leans in, pressing a sweet kiss to the corner of my mouth.

“at least lemme take you out for some dinner?” he suggests, stroking my sides.

i pucker my lips to the side, rubbing his biceps. “waffle house?”

his smile widens, a mischievous look coming over his eyes. “you know me so well.”

i giggle as he pulls me in for yet another kiss.

“let’s roll pretty girl,” he says, holding out his hand.

i take it and we head out.

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uceyjucey Tuff. 🩸 #YeeTAF

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[midnightsdarkangel]

Im back again with another theory lads, one I have wanted to share for a LONG time.

THE LACY THEORY, I hope you all enjoy following me down the rabbit hole. Im going over all the information I collected on the DDVAU server, All information comes from the public chat, the offical playlist and the double hearted comic. That being said Lets begin this:

So lets start off with the big question: What is Lacy? Most likely you wont know of it outside of the discord server, I wanted to wait till I had a bit more evidence and information to present before I showed it out but I think I have enough complied. So!

Lacy is the unoffical name of a ship that will appear in Double Hearted. It was first mentioned in regards to the DDVAU Playlist which has been said that each song will give insight either to the plot, or a character development. The characters involed are: Grian, Scar, Martyn, Jimmy, Tango, Pearl (and Gem now added)

Its described in the songs as a messy situationship. So far Marru has confirmed it has its own playlist with songs in order of a timeline. These songs are:

-Lacy by Olivia Rodrigo

-Footnote by Conan Grey

-The Ballad of Lucy Grey by Rachel Zegler

-It took me by surprise by Maria Mena

-Obsessed by Olivia Rodrigo

With this as well we have this Image (it is noted that Maruu edited this photo to make sure not to give away who the characters are. I was given permission to show as its in the server)

So. Who are these two?

I heavily believe its Grian and Martyn. But why do I jump to that so quickly? Lets start with the drawing first. A while back in one of the earlier livestreams, we got this image:

This takes place in college, and as you can see. Grian has much longer hair there. I was able to take the drawing and line up that the hair strands matched Grian's.

Also, @rebelrenee36 was the one to discover there was actually another image of this drawing from the top half. I wont be posting that one here but we did see enough to conclude that Grian was one of the people in the picture.

But then why did I think it was Martyn in the second image?

Major shout out to @coatree who brought the idea up to me which resulted in me being insane about figuring it out.

I want to take you all to a song called Unravelling- the crane wives. It was one of the rare few songs that got confirmed to a character and we were told it was a Grian song.

In unravelling, the verses talks about different people in Grian's life who had shown him compassion and love. But then theres this:

At the time I needed to make a process of elimiation on who this was, but chapter 20 has given me the answer:

Martyn was the one who left Grian.

Its still a bit farfetched right? Lets take a look at the playlist songs. We know that Oh No by Marina, is a canonical song to Martyn, and I was able to assess that Martyn has a very sort of ride or die risk mentality, and when you compare this to The ballad of Lucy Grey?

Danced for my dinner?

and the gamble line fits along the lines of the Martyn songs the server has managed to find connections to.

When I started this connection, I started to notice some things:

Martyn is STARING at Grian and Big B and I had always wondered why but now I start to wonder...was he jelous?

Then if we take the art from the phones you see in Grians lock screen he has this image:

Martyns hand is on Grian's shoulder.

(also its funny to me that Big B and Martyn share the colour scheme outfit but reversed)

Then we finally got chapter 14, Martyns introduction and what is he like?

He is genuinely concerned for Grian and I think the only time we see urgancy from this man because the second Grian is ok he is chill the entire time, and we KNOW that Martyn hasnt shown back in the captial for such a long time now

Its no surprise Grian was taken back seeing him return:

I want to note two things as well in this chapter that really helped me form this theory, first of all: Martyn's blushing

(mf isnt subtle IM LOOKING AT YOU SIR)

The second comes from this

THIS MF ABSOLTUELY HAS HISTORY WITH GRIAN.

Its the fact that he knew what Grian wanted without Grian ever having to say a word. These two defintiely have a strong bond, plus the fact when Gem asks if Grian is comfortable with everyone being in the room when Grian discusses his abilities he says yes. Yes to mumbo who is his best friend, yes to Jimmy his cousin and someone he cherishes a lot and Martyn.

He is comfortable not only showing his wings off but also discussing his powers, something that he has kept wraps from EVERYONE.

and then chapter 20....oh my god I wasnt prepared for this.

mf thinks about Grian before Grian even reaches out

2. i love how protective he is for Grian

3. Sparrows father, someone VERY protective of Grian, glares a lot at martyn, which funny enough remember who else gave Martyn a dirty look for being near Grian?

HIS BEST FRIEND MUMBO.

4.

GRIAN BLUSHES WHEN MARTYN COMPLIEMENTS (unintentionally) CUTEGUY. LORDD

There is defintiely more to this theory, we dont know why they broke up, why Martyn left but Its clear these two have history. I have so many questions that I cant wait to see with upcomming chapters.

And that is my insanity, thank you and goodnight.

[fiamat12]

Re: They *Really* Lost the Plot!

... but did they mean to?

There have been lots of questions swirling around today - everything from do Nic & Luke really hate us to don't you think there *has* to be more going on than legal obligations? Then @frantastical posed a question that gets right to the root of it as only an OG can:

I'll answer the 1st two questions, then get to Fran's argument. 1- No, Lukola loves their fans and if you think they'd purposely try to alienate or manipulate them while simultaneously trashing their own images, I don't what to tell you. 2- No. As protracted as the legal obligations have become, the alternative was worse. Now, onto Fran's theory...

Shippers are struggling w/ the contradictions that we're trying to reconcile. A smattering of comments taken from the threads today:

• "I am really torn as to whether this is an obligation. I think this post is an image nightmare, so would they actually agree to it?"

• "It seems coordinated w/ Lauren and the Dad follows. It also then continues the Roumeloti business promotion checklist; promote Dads restaurant ✅, DJ business ✅ and now Antonia’s employer ✅ (who is probably family or friend of family)"

• "I’ve been vacillating between obligations and A going rogue to humiliate Luke and Nic all day. I can’t imagine today was about obligations and yet it’s the Lauren TT and his dad following A’s dad of it all. Was today part of the obligation fulfillment or did what was storied by Nic last night piss her off?"

• "They don’t even need Savage anymore if his team are involved in this... A man who has been widely criticised for his hot boy summer antics posing with these dancers 🥴😳🤦🏼‍♀️. Then we get a caption that must be mocking him because that man is not Bond material... even those who like him will say that."

(Fans did want L as Bond for a hot sec.: https://www.mylondon.news/news/celebs/bridgerton-james-bond-luke-newton-25619695)

Sunny, @jmuz09's AI Robot helped work through it ⬇️⬇️⬇️

1) A LEGAL LOOPHOLE

Fran's assertion fits more into it NOT being an obligation. I asked Sunny about this but added a legal loophole; he laid it out to where it could makes sense w/ what's been happening w/ A all along...

2) THE CHICKEN AND THE EGG

Here's another Sunny response which makes what happened BOTH, and could also be plausible.

I asked: What came first the chicken or the egg? Meaning did N give us those stories as a preemptive measure knowing that L's pic w/ the Cyprus dancers was about to surface? OR did A have her camp post it as a reaction to N's Lukola coded posts?

Lastly, ignore ignore ignore adjacent nonsense! Lukola has been trying to keep a plot on track that keeps getting derailed. We know the truth, and nothing you've seen should change that - except it can cause further (understandable) frustration.

As others have said - we got N w/ a stroller!!! That's far more interesting! 👀

And so are you. YOU are important to this ship but more importantly to your friends, family, colleagues, pets, and greater community. So take care of yourself and don't let this whiplash cause you unnecessary stress. Protect your peace and enjoy your weekend! ✌️🕊☮️

[filmbyjy]

XO (Only If You Say Yes)

PAIRING: lee heeseung x fem!reader

SYPNOSIS: both you and heeseung have been friends for a long time. when the both of you were younger, people always told you that being friends of the opposite gender would be hard. feelings would definitely be involved. at first, you'd deny it but after a such a long time. feelings definitely bloomed and heeseung had to agree.

WARNING(s): none! though, idk if i should consider jokingly threatening to m*rder someone a warning. a small peck warning(?) it's all fluff and comedy so like yeah, we safe.

WORD COUNT: 2.5K words

a/n: yay more content. i finally have a drabble for heeseung in his masterlist. which btw, just send an ask for a request if you have any! i'll write it as soon as possible!! oh and again, this work is not stolen. it is a reposted work from my wattpad (markxdino). i don't post on there anymore but i do have some books on there like the ateez imagines book and enhypen imagines book which is currently getting revamped.

Sometimes life just puts you down and when that happens, you're lucky to have your best friends by your side. The universe decided to pair you with 7 adorable dorks. All very unique in their own way.

"Come on (name). It will be fun to go to the amusement park! The rides aren't scary!" Jake says. It's almost like he wasn't scared of the rides too. You looked over to Jay, he does gestures for you not to agree but you'd like him to suffer so...

"Alright alright. Let's go. But you're paying for the tickets mister rich boy." You say. Jake smiles.

"Well I invited you so I'll pay for your tickets. The others can pay on their own." Jake says as he turns to look at the other boys. Which earns a few whines.

"You invited us too but why you just paying for (name)'s tickets, that isn't fair!" Sunoo whines.

"Fine fine. I'll pay for all your tickets except for." There was a pause in his words. "Jay you think you could pay on your own?"

Jay almost looked too offended. "I'm sorry? You are paying for my suffering so you pay. I never agreed to go to an amusement park. You guys just wanna see me suffer." Jay huffs. Jake only shakes his head.

"Says the son of a CEO." Jake fires. Jay's eyes widened.

"Alright, fine I'll pay by myself since you're being such a bitch." Jay says. Jake smirks. He clearly got Jay good.

"Thanks Jay, pay for yourself alright?" Jake skips off to the classroom. Jay's jaw drops when he realised what he has done.

"Come on buddy, you should get to class. Me and Heeseung are going." You pat Jay's shoulder. Sunghoon shakes his head.

"I'll drag him to class. We have classes together right now. I'm going to hear an earful from him later." Sunghoon sighs. Both you and Heeseung made it to class on time. The teacher starts the class and teaches everything needed for this apparent surprise test.

It ain't a surprise test when you spoiled it already and causing students to stress the hell out. The fact that the teacher also never told the date so they could just randomly say 'oh today we are doing the test' and students would just be crapping themselves cause they never studied. However, that's not for you and heeseung though. The both of you top this class all the time. Both you and heeseung already made a point to study a topic earlier with your tutor so it would be easier for you guys to do well and yes you two have the same tutor so they taught the both of you the same time.

"Here notes that Mr.Blake gave us during that tutor session." Heeseung says. You smiled.

"Thanks Heeseung. You made a photocopy right?"

"Oh please we live next to each other. I can climb into your bedroom window."

"Well then, I should lock it shut so you don't just randomly scare me at 12am while I'm watching a horror movie about serial killers."

"Who watches horror movies at night anyways?" He folds his arms.

"Me and everyone who likes horror movies."

"Well you are weird."

"Well you're just a baby."

"Please Jay is a bigger baby than me." Heeseung says.

"Well that's true." You say. You remember last Halloween everyone planned to scare Jay but he ran out the house when he saw your black cat come out of your room. It was also dressed up as a spider hence he ran out of the house. "That poor boy." You say. Heeseung chuckles softly.

After the class, heeseung drags you to the usual table. I would say this was the boy's territory or table. To you though, it's just a table they always use because it's in the middle and nobody wants to sit here for some odd reason. Maybe cause you'd feel like a caged animal being stared at by thousands of students.

Honestly, everyone in your school practically knew this was the boys' table. 7 of them and their one girl friend all sitting together. Everyone just kinda left that table alone for the 8 of you. Maybe it's because the boys were pretty famous, every grade no matter what it was just found them attractive. As for you? Many guys would love to date you but clearly you had your eyes on someone. You were super close with Heeseung and everyone knows that, they already had no chance to ask either one of you out because of how close you two were.

"So today's lunch, whatever alien thing that crawled out of the sewer." Sunoo says as he brought his tray of food. The tray falls right onto the table and it definitely did not look appetising. You look at the food in disgust.

"What the heck is that supposed to be?" You asked. Sunoo sighs. He grabs a spoon and scoops up some of the contents.

"Apparently, it's supposed to be mushroom soup but I don't think it's supposed to be that colour." Sunoo says. Ni-Ki looks at the food, he turns away to gag.

"Please throw that out or eat somewhere else." He says still facing away from the soup.

"Don't worry, I'm feeding it to the trash can later on. Anyone want to visit the snack shop with me or like the vending machine?" Sunoo says. Everyone raises their hands. "Alright how about we split so no one steals our stuff and the table."

"Alright, then who is way more hungrier and can't bare to wait until the others come back?" Jungwon says. Ni-Ki, Sunoo, Jake and Sunghoon raised their hands.

"Alright you four go first. Me, Jay hyung, (name) and Heeseung hyung will stay here." Jay nudges Jungwon and whispers something. "A-Ah, I'm suddenly getting hungry. My stomach is grumbling really badly. Jay hyung you can stay here with the both of them."

"No no, I'm seriously hungry too. I'll go with you." Jay says. They push the others out. You tilt your head confused by the sudden action. Heeseung sighs clearly knowing what they were doing.

"I don't know whether to be concerned or confused." You say.

"Just be confused. Anyways, got any plans for the weekends?"

"Didn't we just plan out an amusement park journey with the others?" You say. Heeseung facepalms.

"Forgot."

"Seems like you have a goldfish brain."

"I'll have you know goldfishes are pretty smart!"

"Okay heeseung." You tease. Heeseung opens his mouth to say something but then a guy walks up to the table. He holds out a pink letter to you, the poor boy was shaking because he was nervous.

"H-Here is my confession l-letter." He shyly says while stuttering. You smiled.

"You are so adorable. It was brave for you to confess but I don't want to lead you on into thinking if I read this letter, it means I like you or something. You seem like a sweet boy, but I think you'd be better off with someone else. We can be best friends though if you'd like?" You explain to the boy. He bites his lips nervously, he knew he just got rejected but he couldn't feel sad about the rejection.

You rejected him in the nicest way possible and even offered to be his friend instead. He nods while blushing.

"S-Sure."

"I'll keep this letter though. Unless of course, you want it back." You teased. He shakes his hands.

"N-No it's fine. It was for you anyways. U-Umm thank you for letting me down gently. No girl I confessed to has done that to me."

"Aww poor you but I do hope you find someone who can accept your feelings." You motion for him to get closer and when he does you whisper to him. "I'm sorry to hurt you but I already have a crush on someone."

"No no it's fine. I think I know who it is." You smiled. "I have to go now."

"Ah, my phone number if you want to chat with me." You wrote it down for him. He thanked you and went with his own way. You turned around to find Heeseung still sitting there probably hearing almost everything. He folded his arms.

"Wow, someone confessed to you and you rejected them. You're cruel."

"Oh shut up, I'm not looking to date anyone right now."

"Really? Haven't you been complaining about being single for 19 years of your life."

"Shut up, Heeseung." you whined. The 6 other boys came back.

"Turns out, the vending machine is completely out of snacks." Jungwon says.

"After you guys emptied the whole damn thing?" You say pointing to the snacks they were all carrying. They awkwardly laugh.

"Yeah but hey we have a lifetime supply of snacks now." Sunoo says.

"Lifetime? You guys will finish this in 2 days." You say.

"Oh come on don't need to be grouchy. Here, we got you your favourite snack from the vending machine." Jay says. He hands you your snack, you opened it and happily chowed down on it.

[Time Skip]

It was finally the weekends, you dressed up in the most simplest outfit you could think of. Light purple t-shirt and jeans, if it was hot, you have your bucket hat to save your head from burning. You met up with the boys at the entrance of the amusement park, Jake waves his hand so you knew where he and the others were.

"So, idiots what are we going to do?" You had questioned them.

"First off, let's take the scary rides-"

Jay cuts off Jake, "Oh hell no. If you start with that, I'm leaving right now. I don't even have my ticket yet."

"Jay, your dad could buy the amusement park if he'd like. You can literally just walk in and say 'oh I'm a son of this specific CEO, let me in' so casually and they will do just that." Sunghoon says.

"They aren't going to let me in if I say that."

"Test it out." Sunghoon says. Jay huffs, he goes to the gate and straight up tells the lady as she asks for the ticket. Her eyes widened before she slides her card and lets him in. Jay turns back to the rest of you with his jaw dropped. You could see him just walk in slowly, trying to process what had just happened. "Told him he could do that."

The 7 of you caught up to Jay who was still baffled that he just did that. He had opened his mouth to say something but closes it back after he didn't know what to say.

"The privilege of having a CEO dad." Sunghoon says patting Jay's shoulder.

"I really should do this more often. I have the power!"

"And here I thought you said you'd rather work hard instead of using the CEO's son title." You say folding your arms. Jay opens his mouth to say something but he couldn't, he knew you were right. He pouts.

"Okay fine, I'll stick to my words. I'll work hard and not use my title...unless it's for something important." Jay says. You rolled your eyes. The 8 of you went over to the boat ride.

"Any of you seasick?" You asked. All of them shook their head.

"Seems like we need to split up, 4 people can only ride one boat."

"I just realised. Is this going to make us wet? I'm pretty sure it ain't a normal boat ride." Ni-ki says.

"You only live once." You say as you dragged heeseung into the chair so he'd sit next to you.

"Alright, who wants to sit in front of the couple?" Jake says. You were about to protest.

"We can go first. Younger ones first." Sunoo sticks out his tongue before dragging Ni-ki into the seat in front. Ni-ki could already feel that the seat was wet, he sighs.

"I was so right. We are going to get wet. Should have worn those water resistant pants." Ni-ki says.

"Oh come on Ni-ki don't be bummed out. We can get food later on. My treat." You say. The younger boy's eyes sparkled.

The boat starts moving. It was a slow ride at first until it decides to go up.

"HUH WAIT THIS ISNT WHAT I THOUGHT WOULD HAPPEN." You panicked. Heeseung holds your hands to comfort you.

"I'm here don't worry." While that comforted you because you liked him but you still felt terrified. Once it reaches the point at the top, it rushes down. You hugged heeseung tightly as you feel the water splashing across your face. Sunoo yells, Ni-ki closes his eyes and heeseung held you tight.

The ride gets to a normal slow pace like what you hoped for but no that boat went on another slope. The four of you got off the boat to wait for the others. You were still holding onto Heeseung's hand like it was a casual thing.

"Hey, let's go grab cotton candy over there." He says trying to distract you. You turned to the sweet cotton candy and smiled.

"Let's go." You left sunoo and Ni-ki to wait for the others and yes you two sneaked away. Heeseung pays for the cotton candy and you happily peeled off a piece.

"You got cotton candy on your lips." Heeseung says. You tried to wipe it. "Here let me help." You felt his lips on yours, a small sweet peck. Your eyes widened. Once he pulls back, he smiles.

"What the heck was that for heeseung." You say flustered as fuck. He chuckles.

"I've always wanted to do that. Guess my confidence just sparked there, huh." He shyly says. You were just baffled.

"So you like me, huh?" You say. He simply smiles.

"Well I wouldn't just kiss a random girl who had cotton candy on her lips." Heeseung says.

"Alright but still, you can't just kiss me out of nowhere. It makes my heart beat quickly." You say. Heeseung chuckles even more.

"(name), I like you. It did get me a little jealous when someone confessed to you like a few days back but I know there was no way you'd like someone else."

"Well, how did you find out?" You fold your arms. Heeseung points to Jay. You gasp.

"THAT CEO'S SON, I'M GOING TO MURDER THAT BI-" Heeseung holds you back.

"Calm down. You can kill him later by making him ride a rollercoaster. For now, would you say yes to being my girlfriend?"

"Do you think I'm crazy for not saying yes? Obviously, I'll say yes heeseung." You hugged him. He smiles.

"Oh, that's where you two went." Jay smirks. As soon as you heard his voice, you glared at the boy. His smirk slowly disappears.

"PARK JONGSEONG, I'M GOING TO MURDER YOU." His eyes widened. He prepares himself to run. You had let go of the hug from Heeseung and started chasing after Jay.

Poor boy was screaming out loud as you chased him.

taglist[perm]: @ja4hyvn @ahnneyong @milklix @kar0ki @sugarsunoo @http-gyu @simpforniki @vatterie @victoriazynui @myu3ki @jhopesucker @dimplewonie @chwlogy @ilovewonyo @xiaoderrrr @uwuheeseungie @miercerise @liikno @hxney-luga @tiktaktiki @ajayke-reads @yizhoutv @s00buwu @ilovehanni1 @starrpt2 @mystarryseas @moonliaworld @in-somnias-world @luvyev @engeneeee-168 @babyy-bambii @kimipxl @namau @gxwesn @kristynaaah @jiiyen @nshmrarki @addictedtohobi @starvyeol1512 @alexisdalmatian

[elodieunderglass]

This is a gap in recorded/presented/easy-to-imagine history in which you can imagine the shape of a role of the “Irish” Hobelar as a fighting unit.

Hobelars were mounted on small gaited native pony-horses called hobbies; carrying no gear and wearing no armour and riding practically bareback, a feat made possible by the fast smooth pace of the hobby (whose gait would presumably resemble the Icelandic pony’s tölt or the Mongolian war pony’s joroo.) the Irish Hobby is now extinct, but the name is where we get the word “hobby” from - an activity done for pleasure. This sounds made-up, doesn’t it? You can read a long post by myself and contributors here, which includes this poem from someone describing their fighting style and how annoying it was:

And one amang, an lyrysch man, Uppone his hoby swyftly ran; Hyt was a sportfulle sygthe, How hys darttes he did schak ; And when him lyst to leve or tak, They had fulle gret dispite.

There are a few reasons why you haven’t heard of hobelars (god forbid people have hobbies). It is important to the imperial construction of the myths of the British Isles (and the French) that Celtic people be negligible and subjugated in any narrative of medieval warfare. They did not correspond to a social class outside of warfare: you can spin so MANY sexy aristocracy-reinforcing tales of chivalry around knights that we’re still doing so today. Sexy tormented superhero with his ARMOUR and his SWORD and his big HORSE - let’s roleplay this 5 million times, and for political comfort, rather than trampling the peasants he now rules, we shall enshrine and repeat the safe metaphorical image of the “dragon” for him to fight as well…

Guy Who Just Caught A Wild Hobby From A Bog And Doesn’t Wear Armour (and runs around bareback, throwing stuff and being incredibly fast and annoying, and vanishing when you tried to kill them back) is just… less sexy. They literally weren’t superheroes. There is discomfort as well - if we kept their imagery, we couldn’t give them fictions to fight; hobelars were not romantic, they had no fixed honour; they were always a scrambling skirmishing fighting unit for killing people. As an academic puts it:

The hobelar is very much the poor relation in the study of the English armies of the fourteenth century, eclipsed by both the man-at-arms and the archer. Our understanding of his origins and role has been wholly based on only two major studies of this troop type: J. E. Morris’ ‘Mounted Infantry Warfare’ in 1914 and J. Lydon's ‘The Hobelar: An Irish Contribution to Medieval Warfare’ in 1954. The lack of interest might be considered surprising, given that Morris saw him as the precursor to the mounted longbowman, while Lydon called him ‘the most effective fighting man of the age’, referring to the hobelar as ‘an entirely different type of mounted soldier’. Yet other historians have been happy to accept the conclusions of Morris and Lydon, considering the hobelar only in passing. Perhaps the reason that so little work has been done on him is that he is always considered in comparison to the man-at-arms – the elite warrior, in his shining harness, doyen of chivalry and a core element of the medieval political and social elite – and the longbowman – the almost super-heroic, Hundred Years’ War-winning, nationalistic symbol of medieval English, and Welsh, martial prowess. By contrast, there is little if any mention of the hobelar in the battle narratives of the middle ages; they have no great role to play in the successes of the English over the French. They do not form a political and social class within medieval society and there is no way, therefore, to discuss their impact outside of the military sphere. It is also almost certain that their Irish origins have counted against them too. Medieval Ireland has been considered militarily backwards by most historians of warfare, who seem to have inherited something of the dismissive tone of their English sources…

Right. 

You’ve read the posts above. You have dutifully pictured the mental image of being a pikeman, Just Some Guy with a big pointy stick, while thousands of pounds of steel-armoured horseflesh ridden by braying Tories comes at you. You have understood that this is inherently alarming, even if you understand the military theories involved, and are prepared to make horse-kebabs.

Now picture being that pikeman when hobelars turn up. First off, the hobbies are WEIRD. They’re fast and tiny, and they move Wrong:

Rather than lining up to be kebabs, as you expect, they feint - dance up to you like weirdos and turn away. They show off how - unencumbered and in good control of their hobbies - they can pretend to do the scary charge thing, breaking your will, but not get kebabed. They are not wearing armour; they’re not using saddles or stirrups, but some of them appear to be archers (?!) sometimes the hobelars get off and wind you up a bit and then jump back on their stupid hobbies. Psychologically they seem more like YOU, but then there’s the horses. They throw spears, or arrow-spears called “darts.” They laugh at you. They have amazing control of their hobbies, who turn away from pikeheads on a dime. The sight of hobbies skirmishing was described (above) as “a sportful sight” - presumably if they weren’t doing it at you, when it would be SO annoying.

There is zero expectation that Celtic mounted skirmishers will break a wall of pikemen. The hobelars have been sent to annoy you. What if this is part of their function, a natural activity in their wheelhouse, and they have perfected it. What if it’s working. What if, by the time the big shiny horses with their big shiny nobles come, you’re already a bit shaken…

Not saying this scene ever happened in history, but you can see from this a bit of how these histories are constructed: here is a unit that was effective and influential in its time and gave its name to “hobbies.” Here are the places where it would seem logical to use them. We have lost much of what would have been known about how they fought at all. The primary source for the quote of the “iyrysch man upon his hoby” is preserved in one single corrupted document in a corner of the internet that took me a morning to find. We will never forget knights, but with a strategically placed EMP, we would probably lose our ability to remember and connect over hobelars (why would anyone care.)

but care when you find yourself thinking that the entire system is pikeman vs knight, one vs the other, an armchair system that plays out like an RPG, rock-paper-scissors: care because so much of history is a spectrum of forgotten people.

[zepskies]

A Subtle Invitation

Pairing: Éomer x Fem!Reader 

Summary: “You needn’t be so formal,” Éomer said. His lips moved against the shell of your ear. “I am Éomer, especially when we are alone.”

Another short episode in your arranged marriage to the Third Marshal of the Mark, in the hopes of renewing political ties between Rohan and Gondor.

AN: Here's a little sequel to As Tradition Dictates, essentially an arranged marriage AU for Éomer!

Posted on Patreon: 6/13/2025

Word Count: 2.6K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. A bit of jealousy, angst, fluff, sharing a bath, smut (v. fingering)

The second morning after your wedding day, you bid your family goodbye. It was a bittersweet parting, and you hugged your mother and brother with all your might.

It would take them a week’s ride to travel back to Dol Amroth, the Gondorian city by the sea. Ruled by Prince Imrahil, it was a small, beautiful coastal palace, but ever did it live in the shade of Minas Tirith.

The wish to renew the friendship between Gondor and Rohan began in the mind of Denethor, the Steward of Gondor. But of course he wouldn't deign to send either of his sons to marry Éowyn.

No, the responsibility fell on Prince Imrahil to send a suitable match from his household. He had felt his only daughter Lothíriel was yet too young to marry Théodred Prince, a grown man of forty-one years to her mere sixteen. So Imrahil called upon your family, upon you, his next closest relation.

You were meant to be...an appeasement bride, of sorts.

Lothíriel was promised to wed Théodred in two years’ time. And so, you had been sent to wed Éomer in the interim. The king's first nephew, Third Marshal of the Mark; his standing was still far above yours. You felt the match was unequal in that respect, but you also secretly hoped that he did not see it that way.

After finishing well wishes with your family, you were approached by Amrothos, the third son of Prince Imrahil, who had also accompanied your party to Rohan. He had been your friend along with Lothíriel since you all were children. You three were the closest in age and so had gotten into many hijinks together, for which your older brother too often needed to get you out of.

Today, Amrothos was more serious than you had ever seen him when he kissed your hand in parting.

“My dear lady,” he said, “I wish you every happiness.”

You caught a hint of grief and longing hidden behind his eyes. You knew why he suffered, but even with sadness throbbing in your chest, your heart could only love him as a friend. And so, that was how you must say goodbye.

“And I you, my friend,” you said. “Please give my best to Elphir and Erchirion, and tell Lothíriel I will write to her soon.”

“Of course,” Amrothos said. He bid you a final farewell with a deep nod of respect. He hesitated, but finally let go of your hand and stepped away from you. Incidentally, he met eyes with the Third Marshal as he returned to your brother’s side.

Éomer watched Amrothos go while standing behind you in the large hall, with his armor-laden arms clasped before him. His face was almost unreadable…but not entirely. Éowyn noticed the path of her brother’s gaze, so firmly trained on Amrothos as the entire party took their leaving. She hid a smile.

However, it soon dropped when she also noticed you being approached by Grima, the King’s advisor.

“Even in sadness, you retain your bridal glow, my lady,” Grima remarked.

You turned to him with a thin smile, trying to be polite. You could not place it, but there was something about the man that unsettled you. His voice slipped about like an eel, leaving a proverbial film of grease in its wake. 

Éomer tensed, but Éowyn sent him a pacifying look that said, Leave it to me.

She slipped between you and Grima. Giving him a polite excuse, she led you away by your arm to ask if you would help her tend the garden of Meduseld.

“My mother started it long ago, but admittedly, I myself have no hand for growing things,” she confessed with a laugh. You smiled along with her. “However, I thought you might be up to the task.”

Before you and Éowyn left the great hall, you gave your husband a parting smile as well as a nod of respect. He did the same for you, though he left without a word. You noticed the sharper eye he gave to Grima before he took his leave.

You wondered if Éomer too disliked the man, but you had no time to contemplate it just then. Éowyn’s steps were brisk and you needed to keep up with her.

The truth was, your heart swelled at the opportunity to tend the garden. Éowyn had caught you there more than once, touching the dry, deadened leaves with a frown. You remembered your own modest garden by the sea at Dol Amroth, full of lilies and lemongrass, wildflowers and white roses. It had been painful to leave your hard work behind in coming to Rohan.

“Yes, I would be honored, my lady,” you replied. “It is a pastime that brings me great joy.”

“Good,” said Éowyn, with a bright charm in her blue eyes. She squeezed your arm congenially as she led you through the long and cavernous halls of the keep. “Except you must call me Éowyn.”

You began with clearing the wild and overrun weeds and dead plants from the pit that once was a garden. It lied in a quiet room made of stone, so different from the pointed wooden walls that made up most of Meduseld. But high above, there was a wide, square gap in the ceiling that let in the sun, the rain, and the heavens shining down.

You evaluated the soil and what flowers and plants would bloom in time, using Éowyn’s knowledge of what grew here in Rohan. Éowyn and one of her ladies helped you clear the debris, even though you told her that she needn’t do so. She was the Lady of Meduseld, after all.

She waved away your concern and told you that she would rather help you than waste her day idling. By the time the sun began to set beyond the horizon, bathing the room in a dimmer golden glow, the three of you had accomplished quite a lot.

Also, you were now in dire need of a bath. When you took your leave, more eyes followed you than usual. No doubt they were noting your disheveled hair, the dirt staining your clothes and under your nails. The keep’s other maids and attendants whispered to each other, likely scandalized that you, the so-called noble lady of Gondor, had done the work yourself.

Good, you could not help but think in satisfaction. This would give them something better to gossip about. You had heard the whispers from the start.

The lady looks as if she is made of glass. Can she even move her head?

How complicated she wears her hair. Is that the style in Gondor?

She will never last a Rohirric winter.

How haughty is the tilt of her chin. No doubt she thinks us a bunch of wild savages. The Marshal will have his work cut out with her.

Surely, he wishes he could have chosen a bride for himself.

Those thoughts fell heavier upon your shoulders as you made the trek back to Éomer’s chamber…the one you now shared with him. You tried to keep your shoulders straight, your chin parallel with the floor. You did as your mother had always impressed upon you to do. Keep your true thoughts from your face, and show only what you wanted others to see.

However, that expression of aloofness fell the moment you fully entered the bedchamber. You heard the mild splashing of water before you realized—before you saw Éomer washing himself in the bath. The luxurious marble tub built deep into the ground, over in the far corner of the room. The fireplace crackled warmth into the room along with the water’s steam, enveloping you with a comforting air.

You knew your husband had been out on patrol today after leaving you this morning. No doubt he had ridden long and hard throughout the West Mark, perhaps alongside Théodred Prince.

Éomer looked up when the heavy door closed itself. You forgot to grab it so that it shut more softly. He turned to you, his eyes widening a fraction.

“My lord,” you greeted with a quick bow of your head. Your cheeks warmed in a blush. “I am sorry, I do not wish to disturb you.”

“You are not,” he replied, as he eyed you. A subtle invitation, perhaps.

He picked up the soap once more and continued to scrub along his arm. You were drawn to him, and to the sight of wet-slick muscle. Your gaze roamed up the length of his broad arm and shoulders, his chest and collarbone, his damp blonde hair clinging to his skin.

Quickly, your eyes rose and fell on his bearded face. His lips began to twitch upward, but it became hidden from you as he twisted to try and reach his back.

Your blush deepened as you stepped closer. “May I help you?”

He hesitated, glancing at you over his shoulder.

“If you wish.”

You knelt down at the edge of the stone tub. You took the bar of soap from him to help wash his back, though you noticed the more serious veneer that fell over his features.

“Am I doing something wrong?” you asked.

Éomer seemed to return to himself. He blinked up at you and lightened up a touch.

“No…no, thank you,” he said, taking the soap from you. Besides the softness of your touch, he was thinking of his patrol this afternoon. His Eored noticed signs of orcs west of Meduseld. He already informed his cousin Théodred, but tomorrow Éomer would ride out again and hunt them down. He would not trouble you with that, however.

While his back was turned, you saw a scattering of scars you had only glimpsed yesterday in the dim of candlelight. You touched him between the shoulder blades, and his muscles twitched. Your face warmed, but you were gentle in tracing the marks. Éomer paused, allowing it for the moment.

“Do all men in your Eored possess such scars?” you asked quietly.

“Many do,” he said. “The hazards of our occupation, and our duty.”     

He turned and grasped your hand to keep you from dwelling on those thoughts, or from fretting over him. Your eyes met his, and his lips curved. His free hand came up to brush some dirt from your cheek. "What's this?"

“Gardening,” you supplied with a blush.

“I see,” he said, amusement gleaming in his eyes. “Care to join me then? The water is still warm.”

Your breath caught in your throat. He could tell that he’d caught you contemplating the very idea.

“It would conserve water,” you replied.

It succeeded in making him smile. That was something he had noticed about you.

Always concealing her desires behind practicality, he thought.

He tugged you closer by your hand to help you out of your clothes, but you cinched up the soft violet gown yourself. Éomer watched as you raised it over your head, the hem of it catching in your hair. Anew he took in your every curve with pleasure to his eyes. 

You were beautiful. Beautiful and kind. Again, he was reminded of how easily your match may not have come to pass.

Rather than cursed, as he may have felt months ago, he now felt mostly lucky to look upon his bride with the certainty that you were his alone. For him, it was worth the price of being yours in return, even if all that ever grew between you both was friendship and fondness.

He helped you into the bath, and the water rose to meet you when you settled in. Flashing him a somewhat shy smile, you reached up to loosen the complicated twists from your hair, taking out pins and unraveling the strands.

It was a delicate thing you did, and Éomer found himself attracted to the way your nimble hands did it…even though he preferred your hair as it was now: unbound and trailing damp between his fingers. 

He led you into a seat beside him on the ledge, submerged by the water. He washed your back, your glistening shoulders, and your arms, moving the soap over your skin in a gentle, but delicious pressure.

When he reached your neck, he slipped the smooth bar over your shoulder and more gently along your collarbone, dipping slowly between your breasts. You could feel his warm, solid chest against your back.

You breathed out a sigh, grateful, contented, and aroused in equal measure. His free hand found the curve of your waist under the water, and you felt the brush of his thumb along your skin. His hand slid higher, skimming the underside of your breast. A shiver ran down your spine.

“Thank you, my lord,” your voice escaped in a whisper.

“You needn’t be so formal,” Éomer said. His lips moved against the shell of your ear. “I am Éomer, especially when we are alone.”

He set down the soap and rose to sit on the edge of the tub. He drew you up with him by your hips, guiding you to sit in his lap. You felt every firm ridge of him against you, including his hard, heavy manhood kissing the cleft of your rear. His strong thighs underneath you were your foundation, his arms your unshakable support.

You sucked in a subtle breath, holding onto his left arm for balance, especially when his right hand dipped below your belly, brushing your skin, traveling down and down to cup your mound.

“Éomer,” you breathed, just as two of his fingers sought what they wished between your legs. A gasp caught in your throat. Your thighs, already shaking, opened up for him.

Calloused finger pads slipped through your folds and found delicious friction, rolling the swelling bud above your entrance until you began to whimper and writhe against him.

His lips trailed rough kisses along your neck, your chin, soft bites along your jaw. Then those same fingers plunged into you, deeply, finding slick familiarity in your sensitive channel.

Amidst the sounds of quiet splashing, your toes curling in the water around your ankles, your breathing shallowed. Desperation mounted. You reached back and scrapped for purchase, raking your nails through the wet darkened strands of his hair.

He held to him with an arm like an iron band. His hand molded to your breast, rolling the achingly hard nipple between his fingers. All the while, his sword-wielding hand worked you over, those thick digits sliding back and forth inside your quivering walls.

Until finally, a choked cry escaped you. Your core muscles clenched and spasmed around his hand, down to the knuckles. Still, he stroked inside you until you fell back against him with a shudder. Self-satisfied at bringing you pleasure, yet painfully aroused, he watched your breasts rise and fall with your breaths.

“Well done,” he murmured, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth.

You giggled softly, tightening your hand around his. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught his smile.

He guided you by your hips to turn around. You were all too willing to do so, straddling his lap with a slow ease. Maybe a tinge of lingering modesty had your face warming in a blush, but you smiled back at him.

Your hands slipped up his arms as he gathered you against his chest, until merely a whisper lied between his lips and yours. The air began to chill your wet skin, but you were warm wherever he touched you.

“Perhaps we could dry ourselves and move to the bed, where I might return the favor,” you suggested.

Éomer rose a brow, but the idea pleased him, as did your boldness when your hand disappeared between your bodies to stroke his aching cock. A grunt fell from his lips, his fingers pressing into the flesh of your hips.  

“You are learning quickly,” he uttered.

He earned your sweeter laugh. Then you welcomed him into a devouring kiss.  

At least we are compatible in this, you thought, before you weren’t able to think of much else.

AN: There we go, another little snapshot of these two! 💜

I'd like to do a few more of these at various points in their marriage (eventually). I guess you could consider that a kind of series, since it was meant to be from an actual Éomer x OFC series. 😆

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[unnamedcorvid]

i was relistening to Part 6 and just really love and want to think more about Arthur’s behavior here and the snapshot it gives into his character cause like. This is Arthur before pretty much all of The Horrors. He’s flourishing. Just out of a nice month-long nap and has a new mystery to solve. He’s in his element here! This is what he Does! It’s probably one of the closest peeks we get into what his life had been like before everything, how he did his detective work, all of that. We learn how he goes about his investigations (before any of the post-horror desperation and moral issues hit) and just. This is how he worked. This is what he Did.

and what do we see? CRIMES. this man commits CRIMES. on the DAILY. without a second thought. just acts like it’s totally and completely normal.

this man walks into a store and very casually, matter-of-factly lists off the items he wants. A .45 Automatic with bullets to go along, a flashlight, matches, and a way to force a lock. like. That shit outta put him on a list or something, ESPECIALLY when he’s asked for an ID he says he doesn’t have one, and just. buys a new (fake) one. like. Thank god that clerk was dirty or else he’d be arrested cause what the fuck kinda sketchy shopping list is that? my brother in christ I don’t think there is any legal reason to have a way to force a lock. not to mention that and a GUN

Then he promptly heads off to a recently murdered girl’s apartment, and when finding the door locked, just picks it. Without a moments hesitation. And he does it really fuckin fast too, like. You know that guy’s had a Ton of practice. he did that in like one single second while blind and without control of one hand. he even admits it, says he’s done this many times. this guy’s a fucking menace.

Once inside the apartment (that he broke into. also the apartment of a recently murdered girl, not just dead but MURDERED like. She was KILLED HERE not even a week ago. this was a CRIME SCENE) he just kinda. Rummages around and takes a book. I mean yeah, she is dead, but also. you can’t just break into someone’s apartment and snatch their shit my guy??

and then at the docks. oh my GOD dude. You’d THINK a GROWN ASS MAN would maybe CONSIDER the CONSEQUENCES of STEALING A WHOLE ASS FUCKING BOAT OFF A PUBLIC DOCK IN BROAD DAYLIGHT but NOOO. that’s actually his instant go-to. Can’t get a ride? cool, I’m stealing a boat. there wasn’t even a second of hesitation or deliberation. What to do next? Oh I know. Steal a fucking boat. doesn’t even think of the consequences or that there’s actively people here (and he just gave his name to one), just up and takes it. it’s such a normal thing to do.

anyway all this to say that Arthur Lester Malevolent has always been a feral little creature with no regard for conventional approaches. he’s always been like this. I mean yeah he’s gotten So Much Worse but like. he didn’t start from ground zero either. Even in Part 4, when he needed to distract Kellin, when his first idea to honk the horn on his truck was turned down, his next instant suggestion was SET HIS HOUSE ON FIRE. there is no middle ground with this man. he will always jump straight to crimes without a second thought and I love that for him

[polentaconleche]

Can we see more of your Melantho? Maybe with Eurymachus, your Melantho design is so beautiful!

It's been a while since I posted more of her jsjs. Also, THANK YOU so much! <)

Now about Eurymachus...

(⚠️Uncomfortable talking about grooming)

In my version, Melantho has 18 years old, Eurymachus has 28. They met five years ago. So... yeah, he's THAT kind of person. Since he's described as manipulative I quickly remembered "what more manipulative than THAT kind of people?" and I choosed this due to 1. Show that he's manipulative and 2. This is through personal experiences that I had (that I do not wish to share here) so trust me when I say I know how manipulative these kind of people can be... and for me, it fit his character

I'm sorry, but this Melantho and Eurymachus won't be a "very cute couple" at least in my version. I apologize for those who thought the contrary

[polished-obsidianstone]

Nobody actually intelligent is saying just because women exist in a way, which can in theory arouse men, she's setting back feminism. That completely removes the nuance people are trying to argue and turning our position into just an anti-sex sentiment. Lets set something straight here. We cannot control what people do with their bodies, what they think, how they spend their time. We shouldn't, because obvious moral ethical reasons. As long as someone consents to it, we should agree that they should have the right to do whatever they please in regards to themself. But we can accept their right to autonomy while also recognizing the harmful aspects, the history, etc of whatever it is they choose to do. RadFems say this all the time, choice does not equal empowerment. Just because you consent to something does not mean whatever controversies to it can now be erased. Theres nuance to all things, but it is consistent (at least in RadFem spaces) that anything which makes you, as a woman, subject to male dominance like it has been for thousands of years-- it is NOT feminist. Because it would not directly liberate you, or women as a class from male dominance. Because this post is about Sabrina: people are saying the fact she portrays herself in such an objectified and now explicitly degrading way, while being justified despite the obvious clash of patriarchal ideals and women's liberation from that; we en mass have lost understanding of genuine empowerment, and feminist thought. Sabrina compares herself to a young girl despite being a grown woman in a culture of pseudo-pedophila. Sabrina kneeled with an assumed male figure gripping her hair in a way hundreds of people clocked as resembling DV with implications of being like a dog. We're not upset about Sabrina expressing her sexuality, its the fact we're calling this very obviously stereotype feminine caricature that appeals to every patriarchal ideal she's cultivated, feminist. It's the fact people refuse to listen to nuance and criticism without crying puritan conservative. Do whatever you want, but for fucks sake stop saying just because you choose to it's exempt from critique.

Claiming women are forbidden from being “sexy” because it’ll arouse men isn’t “feminism” but flat-out puritanism. Even when women aren't being “sexy,” there are still men who will find them sexually attractive, and they’re responsible for feeling this way.

You can’t claim to support women while simultaneously blaming them for how men feel about them and their bodies. Women being sexy isn’t setting us back, but your condemning of them is.

[ramp-it-up]

At Last

Make it So | Knock You Down Masterlist

Summary: Bucky makes you his wife. And you let him.

Word count: 4.8 K

Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader; Steve Rogers x Peach

A/N: This fic is in the Knock You Down AU, and the wedding is finally here. It comes after the events of Make it So. This universe obviously intersects with the Peach verse, and would come after Show Off. It also will intersect with the Muse AU in the future of this story. Being on the couch for the past week is coming in clutch to catch Bucky and Steve up to Ari. I'm nervous because I haven't written for these two in a while and wanted to get the wedding just right. Please let me know how you feel by commenting, reblogging, and interacting. 😉

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Reader is 3 months pregnant. Anxiety attack, wedding stress, destination wedding, wedding dress shopping, sex in an established relationship, pregnant reader, Bucky is a simp and feral for Furmoaså, flirting, teasing, Bucky speaking google Romanian, praise so much praise, oral, (f receiving) more bathroom sex, bump worship, raw p-in-v, after care.

Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-----

The coffee table was buried in color swatches, RSVP mockups, half-emptied takeout containers, and a half-full glass of ginger ale you’d been too nauseous to finish.

You sat cross-legged on the floor in one of Bucky’s dress shirts, hair up in a messy bun, your phone in one hand and your planner in the other. 

You stared blankly at the spreadsheet open on your laptop screen, wondering how you’d gone from “just us, barefoot on a beach” to twelve-person string ensemble and a four-tier cake.

You didn’t even remember how it happened. Just that it was spiraling now. Too fast and too big.

The tightness in your chest was creeping up your throat. That shallow, dizzy feeling again, not hunger, not nausea. Just too much. Your vision blurred and your hands trembled as you shut the laptop.

And that’s how Bucky found you.

“Hey. What’s going on, Frumoasă?”

He was fresh out of the shower, his hair damp and curling. His chest was bare, sweatpants riding low on his hips. He was drying his hair as he stepped into the room, but when he saw your face he dropped the towel.

In two strides he was in front of you, crouched between your knees, warm hands cupping your cheeks.

“Baby,” he said softly, thumbs brushing away tears you hadn’t even noticed. 

“Breathe with me, okay? In…”

You inhaled shakily, eyes locked on his.

“Good girl. Now out…”

Your exhale caught, but you pushed through it.

“There you go,” he murmured, forehead pressed to yours. “Again.”

You followed his rhythm until the wave of panic ebbed, just enough to let your lungs expand again. You felt yourself calm just a little.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “I’m trying to do everything right. I want it to be perfect. I want you to be proud. I want the baby to be okay, and I just…”

“Shhh,” he murmured. “Come here.”

He pulled you into his lap, your legs draped over his thighs as he settled back into the couch. His hand slid under the shirt you were wearing, his shirt resting warm and steady over the gentle swell of your belly.

“First of all,” he murmured, lips brushing your temple, “you already gave me perfect the day you said yes.”

“And second… proud doesn’t even begin to cover it. I look at you every day and think, how the fuck did I get this lucky?”

You closed your eyes and let yourself sink into him, your forehead against his neck, your body melting against his chest. His other hand moved to your hair, fingers cording through the thickness gently.

“We can call off the whole thing right now and go to city hall in whatever we’re wearing,” he whispered, “and it’ll still be the best day of my life. I swear to God.”

You let out a broken laugh. 

“You’d marry me in sweatpants?”

“In a heartbeat. With mustard on my shirt and the courthouse AC broken. Don’t care.” 

His lips grazing yours.

“You’re not doing this alone. I’m here, Baby. For all of it.”

You nodded slowly, sniffling into his neck.

He pulled back just enough to look at you.

“Now, what do you need? A nap? A foot rub? For me to throw this whole planner into the ocean?”

You laughed again, watery and real. 

“Honestly? All three.”

“Done.”

And just like that, the storm passed.

Not because the stress was gone, but because Bucky Barnes knew how to hold you steady when it hit.

—---

It was past eleven the next day when Peach arrived, holding a pint of salted caramel gelato.

“Tell me you’re not still doom-scrolling BridalTok.”

You didn’t answer. The open Pinterest tabs on your laptop, the silk robe you hadn’t changed out of since breakfast, and the vanilla candle you’d lit twice today were damning enough.

Peach kicked off her sandals and padded inside.

“You’re glowing, by the way,” she said, settling on the couch beside you. 

“Even if you’re panicking. Still glowing. Like, annoying-level glowing.”

You groaned and pulled the throw blanket over your face. 

“I don’t feel glowing. I feel deranged. I cried over a centerpiece. A fucking centerpiece, Peach. Bucky had to talk me down like he was disarming a nuke.”

Peach laughed, flopping over until her cheek was resting on your shoulder. 

“Sounds like he passed the test.”

You peeked at her from under the blanket.

“What test?”

“The one that actually matters. You already knew the sex was good. You already had the chemistry, the intellectualism, the obsession. But the way he holds you through this? The hormones, the wedding spreadsheet meltdowns?”

She grinned.

“That’s the forever part.”

Your throat tightened a little.

You sat up slowly, tugging your knees to your chest. 

“Was it like that for you and Steve? When you knew?”

Peach went quiet, her teasing softened by memory.

“I knew the second I saw him in Hilton Head. I wanted to strangle him. And kiss him. And break every plate in the house.”

You smiled. “Sounds romantic.”

“It wasn’t. Not then. But when I saw him again in Brooklyn, and I wasn’t mad anymore. Just wrecked and happy to see him? That’s when I knew.”

She turned to you, all mischief gone.

“But this wedding? This is you. Big, golden, joyful you. And Bucky sees it. He wants it. Not because it’s shiny, but because it’s yours.”

You blinked hard, breathing shallow now for entirely different reasons. Peach nudged you with her foot. 

“If you still want simple, you can have it. But don’t hide from what you want because it scares you. If it’s fireworks and a string quartet on an island with your belly full of baby Barnes? Then bitch, do it.”

You wiped your eyes. “I love you.”

She grinned. “Obviously.”

She stood and stretched dramatically. 

“Now. Are we crying into this gelato like the emotionally unstable icons we are?”

You grabbed two spoons.

“Of course.”

—

The boutique was a quiet sanctuary tucked between two noisy cafes in SoHo, and for a few hours, it belonged to just the three of you. 

A sign in the window read Private Appointment – Bride Inside, scrawled in looping script, and Peach had immediately posed in front of it for a photo.

Inside, soft jazz filtered through the air as you stood on the pedestal, hem floating just above your bare feet, silk and tulle whispering around your thighs.

You tried not to cry.

Your mom sat on the velvet settee, hand pressed to her lips. Peach held the other, and even she was misty-eyed, despite teasing you the whole drive over about being “the chill bride, remember?”

“You look like a goddess,” she whispered. “A divine entity. They should retire white after this.”

The gown had been a long shot,  a last-minute sample pulled out of storage by a determined assistant who said, “I just have a feeling.” 

And somehow, it was everything.

Soft and stunning, romantic without being fussy. Ivory silk with a gentle shimmer, delicate cap sleeves that slipped off your shoulders just enough, and a deep V-back that draped like liquid. The front skimmed over your three-month bump, subtle enough to feel like a secret only Bucky would notice up close.

The veil was still in its packaging. You hadn’t decided on it yet. But when the assistant gently pinned a cluster of pale blossoms behind your ear, you suddenly saw the whole picture.

A villa. The sea. Golden hour.

And Bucky.

Your mom finally stood and crossed the room to cup your face like she had when you were small.

“He’s going to lose his mind,” she murmured. “Not that he isn’t already crazy about you.”

You laughed, thick with emotion.

“I don’t even know how to walk in this.”

“We’ll practice,” Peach grinned. “We’ll make a TikTok. Bucky’ll cry watching that.”

The fitting ended with a rush of photos, none of which you sent to Bucky. You’d barely stepped out of the dress when your phone buzzed.

Bucky: How’s it going? Are you still in the dress? What if I promised not to blink. Just a peek.

You: Absolutely not.

Bucky: I’ll bring dumplings. One glimpse for every sauce container.

You: Stop trying to bribe my honor.

Bucky: Your honor already said yes to marrying me. Let me worship you. …I’ll throw in a foot rub.

Peach leaned over your shoulder and read the thread, grinning.

“You know he’s parked outside, right?”

You turned toward the window and there he was, in his sportscar, sunglasses on, and pretending to be normal. He was parked illegally and completely unrepentant.

Your cheeks flushed.

“Oh my God.”

Peach cackled.

“Already in full simp-mode.”

—---

Bucky couldn’t stop imagining you in that dress.

He hadn’t even seen it, just chased the outline in his head, by the way your voice caught when you described how it shimmered, and by the way your hands had brushed your own hips when you whispered, “It just floats, Bucky. Like a dream.”

Well, now he was the one dreaming. Hard.

You’d spent the afternoon at your final fitting with your mom and Peach. He’d tried to bribe someone, anyone, to get a peek.

The designer, the assistant, the poor delivery driver who’d dropped off the steaming food Peach ordered from a fancy Thai place. But no one cracked.

So now he was pacing the penthouse while you did your hair in the ensuite, wearing one of his old tees and nothing else. The same legs that would walk toward him in that dress next week were currently propped up on the vanity, lotion glinting on your thighs like an oasis illusion.

He was losing it.

“You’re quiet,” you called, not looking up. “That’s dangerous.”

“I’m picturing you in white,” Bucky said, appearing in the doorway.

His eyes were starving.

You smirked at him in the mirror.

“That bad?”

“No,” he said, stepping closer.

“That good. Too good.”

He leaned down, mouth brushing your neck, hands sliding up the backs of your thighs. 

“I can’t stop thinking about how you’ll look. But even more? About what’ll be underneath.”

You raised a brow.

“You won’t be seeing that during the ceremony.”

Bucky raised himself to full height.

“No panties next week.”

You laughed. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he said, one hand gliding down to cup between your thighs. 

“None. I want to be thinking about this sweet little pussy while you walk down the aisle. About how soaked you’ll be by the time I say I do.”

You gasped as he dragged his nose along your neck.

"Vei fi atât de frumoasă..."

“I thought you said you didn’t want to jinx anything,” you whispered, teasing. 

“I don’t,” he murmured, lifting you up onto the counter with ease. “I just want what’s under the dress.”

His hands were hot on your thighs, spreading them open as his mouth found your neck, his voice wrecked with want.

“Just picture it, baby. You walk down that aisle, glowing, mine in every way. Everyone watching you. No one knowing you’re bare under there except me.”

You moaned softly, head tipping back as he kissed just beneath your jaw.

“You’ll say your vows, let me put that ring on your finger, and I’ll be standing there thinking about how my cum’s gonna leaking out of you that night.”

“James…”

“That’s right, mama,” he smiled into your neck, while slipping two fingers under your shirt to roll your nipple between his fingers.

His other hand was between your legs, thumb dragging a slow, teasing circle.

“You’re soaked,” he growled, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“This all for me, Baby?”

You nodded, dizzy.

“Been thinking about you all day.”

“Yeah?” His fingers dipped lower, spreading slick heat. “You ache, sweetheart? Want me to fix it?”

Your hips rocked into his palm, desperate and needy.

He chuckled.

“I’ll take care of it.”

Bucky sank to his knees.

He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder, his hands gripping your hips, spreading you open with no shame. His mouth hovered over you, hot breath ghosting across sensitive skin.

And then he devoured you, his tongue firm and greedy, lips wrapping around your clit and his groan vibrating straight into your core. You cried out, fingers clutching the edge of the counter, spine arching as you came, so sensitive with pregnancy.

“You think you’re glowing now? Wait until you’re wearing my name, my ring, carrying my baby, and soaked for me on our wedding night.”

You whimpered, thighs rubbing together for friction. Bucky smirked, cock hard against your back, his lips brushing your ear.

“No panties,” he repeated, voice wrecked. “That’s final.”

As if he wouldn’t let you do anything and everything you wanted. He was grasping at straws, desperate.

You shivered.

“We’re getting married in front of my entire family.”

“I’m your family and I’m gonna fuck you now,” he said simply as he rose.

“Right here.”

You were already nodding when he turned you around and bent you over the counter, dragging your panties down and pushing your thighs apart. He didn’t bother teasing this time, just slid in deep and slow, your walls fluttering around him as he groaned your name like a prayer.

“God, you feel like heaven.”

One arm locked around your waist, hand splayed over your belly. The other cupped your breast through the shirt, thumb brushing your nipple. His thrusts were rougher now, driven by something raw.

“You gonna come again for me?” he growled into your neck.

“Come on, sweetheart. Give it to me.”

You shattered with his name on your lips.

And he followed with a broken moan, spilling inside you with a possessive groan, his body curling protectively over yours as he kissed the sweat-slicked skin at the back of your neck.

“You’re gonna walk down that aisle,” he whispered, “and I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.”

You kissed his jaw. “You better.”

“You know what’ll help?”

You sighed happily. “What?”

“No panties.”

You laughed and buried your face in his chest.

“We’ll see.”

He grinned against your temple.

“No. We won’t. That’s the whole point.”

—---

The bridal suite smelled like pressed linen, sea air, and gardenia. You’d dreamt about this as a child.

But nothing about this was childish.

The silk under your fingers was real. The gold initials stitched in your train were real. The diamond on your hand caught every beam of sunlight through the balcony doors.

And Bucky Barnes was real.

You stood barefoot before the full-length mirror, the final zip of your gown still undone, your hair swept up in curls, a halo of pins and fresh petals glinting beneath your veil.

Peach was in the hallway chasing down earrings. The stylist was packing up brushes. And your mom stood behind you, hands gentle on your shoulders, looking at your reflection in the mirror.

“My beautiful girl,” she whispered.

You turned to look at her.

There were tears in her eyes, but she was smiling.

“You used to twirl around the living room with a pillowcase on your head and say, Mama, one day I’m gonna marry a prince.”

You laughed, already crying.

“He’s not exactly a prince.”

“No,” she said softly, brushing a lock of hair from your face.

“He’s better. He’s yours.”

That hit deeper than expected.

“You’re brave, you know,” she added.

“Not just because you’re marrying him. But because you’re letting yourself have this. Love, joy, your dream. You’re not shrinking for anyone.”

You swallowed hard.

“He loves you so much,” she continued.

“You’ve always been sunlight, but with him? You shine. And that baby already knows how lucky they are.”

You rested your hands over the small swell of your belly, blinking fast.

She stepped closer, adjusted a strand of hair, and kissed your temple.

“Take a deep breath, baby. This is the start of the rest of everything.”

Peach was showed up behind you in a sage-green slip dress, grinning like she had a secret.

“You gonna cry?” you asked without turning around.

“No,” Peach sniffled.

“You’re gonna cry. And ruin your lashes. So don’t.”

You huffed a soft laugh.

“Help me with the back?”

She stepped up behind you, fingers gentle as she zipped the dress slowly, smoothing it with a reverent touch.

“Holy shit,” she breathed.

You finally looked at yourself.

Your body was already beginning to shift, soft in places it hadn’t been months ago, glowing with the quiet strength of what you carried. And the dress wasn’t there to hide it. It was designed to honor it.

A deep neckline, silk that draped like water over your hips, the faintest shimmer that caught the light every time you moved.

Your hand found your belly, still barely visible. But you felt it. Bucky’s child. Yours.

“You’re not just a bride,” Peach said softly behind you. “You’re a monument.”

You turned, blinking back tears.

Peach held up a tissue like a threat. 

“Don’t you dare. We’ve got twenty minutes. You cry now, and the stylist will have to reapply your entire face. And Steve’s already crying and pretending he’s not, so that’s my job for later.”

You smiled. “He is?”

“Oh, he’s wrecked. I caught him sneaking a look at Bucky, who’s pacing the beach like a caged panther. He’s muttering to himself and holding the rings like they’re gonna disappear.”

Your stomach fluttered with nerves, joy, and a little nausea.

Peach stepped forward and took your hands.

“You ready?”

You nodded. “I think so.”

“Good. Because this wedding? It’s not about proving anything. Not to family. Not to guests. Not even to yourselves. It’s just the loudest, brightest way to say what you already know.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper.

“That he’s mine.”

Peach nodded.

“And you’re his. For good.”

You took one last look in the mirror, breathed in deep, and exhaled slowly.

Then you whispered to your reflection, “Let’s go get married.”

—--

Bucky’s palms were sweating.

Which was absurd, given what his hands had done in past lives. They done some dangerous things and they had been steady. Always. 

But not today.

Today, his hands were waiting to touch you, his future wife. And for the first time in years, he was nervous in a way that had nothing to do with power, and everything to do with love.

He stood at the edge of a terraced garden that sloped down toward the sea, the salt air heavy with hibiscus and lavender. The villa behind him had hosted billionaires and heads of state, but none of them mattered.

The only thing that mattered was the sound of soft footsteps behind him.

He adjusted the cuff of his navy linen jacket, one of three that had been custom-made for this day. Steve had rolled his eyes earlier, muttering something about Bucky becoming a goddamn peacock in his old age.

But then again, Steve hadn’t seen you yet.

You had insisted on a first look. Said he couldn’t badger his way into seeing the dress ahead of time, but you’d give him this moment before the wedding. 

Something private. Just for you two.

And thank God for that, because Bucky already felt like he was going to drop to his knees.

“Buck,” came Steve’s voice from behind him, sarcastic.

“If you pass out, I’m not carrying you.”

Bucky cracked a shaky grin but didn’t turn around. Not yet.

He heard your laugh before your voice. The sound of Peach’s heels clicking nearer. 

And then…“James.”

He shut his eyes for a second. Took a breath like it was his first in years. Then he turned. And the world fucking stopped.

You stood in the garden light, hair swept up, veil fluttering slightly in the sea breeze, and the gown…Jesus.

Bucky couldn’t breathe.

You looked like a dream he was afraid to wake from. The silk clung in all the right places and glowed against your skin, soft and strong and completely you.

His eyes dropped to your hand and the ring he gave you glittering in the afternoon light, and then lower, to the barely-there swell of your belly, where his child grew.

His voice cracked as he said your name.

You stepped forward, nervous for only a second until you saw the look in his eyes.

He was ruined.

Bucky’s throat worked as he blinked hard.

“You look…”

“Yeah?” you teased, suddenly shy.

“Arăți ca pentru totdeauna. You look like forever,” he said hoarsely.

He reached out, fingers brushing your waist like you were made of spun sugar, like you’d disappear if he held on too tightly. But you didn’t disappear.

You stepped right into his arms, melted into him, and he kissed your temple carefully.

“I love you,” you whispered into his neck.

His voice was raw. “I love you more.”

You pulled back to look at him, hands resting lightly over the lapels of his jacket. 

“Still nervous?”

He shook his head.

“Not anymore.”

—---

The ceremony was held at golden hour on a bluff overlooking the Aegean. The aisle curved through native sea grass and white stone, petals scattered with the ocean spread wide behind the altar.

Bucky waited, heart racing, jaw tight, in the very center of it all.

Steve stood at his side, a rare look of reverence on his face. The man had been his right hand through everything it took to build an empire. But nothing had ever made Steve sniff back emotion like this.

“She’s coming,” Steve said under his breath as Peach walked toward him. “Try to stay upright..”

Bucky didn’t reply.

And then he saw you and everything went still.

You stepped into view, arm tucked gently through your stepfather’s, veil floating behind you, dress glowing like it had been dipped in starlight.

Bucky swore the sun dimmed itself just to let you shine.

He’d seen you earlier, kissed you, held you, but this was different.

This was sacred.

Reaching the altar, Peach dabbed her eyes discreetly, and tucked in beside Steve. He reached for her hand. His grip trembled and he leaned close and whispered something only she could hear. She nodded, then pressed a kiss to his knuckles.

But Bucky couldn’t see them anymore.

He saw only you.

And you were looking right at him. Like there was no one else. No crowd. No ceremony. Just him.

He pressed two fingers to his lips, then to his heart.

You felt it. A vow without words.

Your stepfather leaned in and whispered, “He loves you, baby girl,” before placing your hand into Bucky’s.

The officiant spoke, but neither of you heard a thing.

“Okay?” he mouthed.

You nodded, eyes shining. “You?”

His laugh was pure joy.

“Not even a little.”

The ceremony passed in a blur of gold and sea wind and reverent silence. There were a few readings, a pointed look from Peach when the phrase “in passion and peace,” was spoken, and Steve chuckled under his breath.

Bucky barely registered it.

He watched your lips shape the words “I choose you,” like they’d been written into his skin.

And when it was his turn, his voice cracked.

N-am crezut niciodată că merit așa ceva, dar jur pe Dumnezeu că voi petrece fiecare zi demonstrând că merit.

“I never thought I’d deserve something like this,” he said, eyes fixed on yours. “But I swear to God, I’ll spend every day proving I do.”

The officiant smiled.

“I now pronounce you…”

Too late.

You were already reaching for him, grabbing his lapels and pulling him in like you couldn’t wait another second.

The kiss was deep, sweet and improper.

The crowd gasped. Peach hooted. Steve muttered “Jesus, you two,” and shook his head, but there was a grin on his face big enough to rival the ocean.

You and Bucky walked back down the aisle hand in hand, both of you beaming, radiant with something wild and holy.

He leaned close as the cheers swelled behind you, eyes flicking down your body. 

You bit your lip and winked at your new husband as you leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“No panties. Just like you said. And shaved bare, too.”

Bucky didn’t stumble, but he damn near did.

You kept walking, serene and glowing beside him, your veil floating like a flame in the breeze.

Bucky was wrecked.

And the happiest he’d ever been in his life.

—-

The villa was quiet when you arrived and bathed in candlelight, the ocean’s rhythm a soft pulse through the windows. Someone had come in ahead of you; peonies floated in the clawfoot tub, and bottles of water chilled beside a tray of honey-dipped figs and dark chocolate.

But you didn’t notice any of it right away.

You noticed Bucky.

He kicked the door shut behind him, jacket already off, shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest, his gaze raking over you like he was starved.

He’d kept himself in check all day. 

Ceremony, photos, dinner, the toast that Peach gave that wrecked you both, he’d kept it buttoned up.

But now he was unhinged. It shocked him how much he wanted you.

“Come here,” he said, voice raw.

You turned slowly, silk rustling as you moved toward him like a dream he’d been chasing his whole life. And when you were close enough to touch, he did.

His hands found your waist and then lower, gathering your gown in his fists, dragging the fabric up inch by inch until the whole thing slipped off your body and pooled at your feet.

And Christ.

There you were.

“Fuck,” he whispered against your mouth. “You’re so goddamn beautiful, sweetheart. Look at you. Mine.”

His lips dragged over your collarbone as he walked you backward toward the bed, relishing the fact that you were bare under his hands. He groaned as his palms found your breasts, thumbs grazing over sensitive nipples.

“You’ve been teasing me for days,” he said, breath hot against your neck. “All that talk about the dress. And what you’d wear underneath.”

“You like?” you asked, breathless.

Bucky smirked.

“I love you bare. Shaved. Soaked for me. So gorgeous.” 

He sank to his knees in front of you, pressing a kiss to the gentle swell of your belly. His hands were splayed over your hips, grounding himself.

“But it’s not just this,” he murmured, voice thick.

“It’s not just how perfect you look. It’s everything. Your laugh. Your voice. The way you make me feel. The way you look at me.”

You were already shaking under his praise, thighs trembling, breath catching. His tongue dipped into your navel and swirled, making goosebumps peak.

“It gets me hard, Frumoasă. Really fucking hard. But that’s not why I love you. You’re kind. You’re sassy. You’re good. And you’re real.”

You whimpered, hips twitching.

“To find someone gorgeous, sweet, smart, hilarious, and mine? That shit’s not real. It’s not. But you are.”

His mouth moved lower, and you barely had time to moan before his tongue slid through your folds, filthy and slow. He groaned like a man who’d been craving this all night, gripping your hips and dragging you closer.

You cried out, one leg lifting automatically over his shoulder, and he buried his mouth deeper. Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging hard. But he didn’t stop. Not until you shattered against his tongue, sobbing his name, your body convulsing from the force of it.

Only then did he rise, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he stared you down.

“You’re already wrecked,” he rasped. “And I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

He undressed without looking away. Shirt, belt, trousers, all gone in seconds. His cock was already hard, thick and heavy, flushed dark and wet.

And when he crawled over you, he took a beat to just look at you.

“Still with me, Mrs. Barnes?”

“Always,” you whispered.

And then he sank into you, slowly, inch by agonizingly thick inch, stretching you around him until he was seated to the hilt and barely breathing.

“Goddamn,” he groaned, forehead pressed to yours, eyes shut like he was in pain.

“You feel like…fuck, you feel like coming home.”

You whimpered, your hips rolling to meet him. He started to move, deeper with each thrust, building a rhythm that made the headboard knock the wall and your name fall from his lips like he didn’t know how to stop saying it.

He kissed your breasts, your neck, your mouth, his hand slipping between you to trace soft circles over your clit. But what wrecked him, what destroyed him, was when his hand slid to your belly again.

Right over where your baby was growing.

“We made something,” he choked out, voice breaking. “Right here. Inside you.”

“You made me yours,” you whispered.

“I always will.”

You came again, sobbing his name, your walls fluttering around him. And Bucky followed with a groan, burying himself deep inside you as he spilled, clutching you tight, and shaking from the force of it.

Later, he carried you to the bath, washing you gently, like something priceless. 

You curled between his thighs as warm water lapped at your skin, the scent of gardenia rising with the steam.

He kissed your shoulder and the back of your hand.

“You’re everything,” he whispered.

“My love. My future. My family.”

You turned in his arms, pressing your lips to his.

“And you’re mine.”

——-

Well? Whaddya think? 🤔