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I haven’t made any new content since october. WELL...
#i dont know why but i feel stuck and cant make anything new#before i felt like i could express myself through making gifsets and all but it started feeling like a 'need'#instead of 'want'#which is why i decided not to torture myself and this was it ever since#of course im sorry to those who follow me for this type of content and i appreciate the support for my sets i received! <3#but mental health has been acting up badly and i kinda dipped all social media except for tumblr lmao#but yeah i will still reblog and rethink life choices about the content here on tumblr because very small part of me want to go back to#doing it#but another bigger part is saying a big no and to just go do anything else#yeah anyway this is the hiatus update nobody asked for it but i felt the need to explain myself xd#hope everyone is having a beautiful day/night <3
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This week's [23-08-2021 - 29-08-2021] reading log is here! I read a lot again this week and I feel like it's a lovely variety of fics. Most fics are Stucky like usual, but there's at least one other ship. I am constantly amazed by the talent people have in this fandom! There was one fic I read on Tumblr that I can't seem to find unfortunately, but when I do I'll make sure to reblog and rec it 💕
Favourites are marked with a 🌻
When life gives you lemons by moonthejedi394 @moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 40k words, Mature] (12/15 chapters available)
Or 13 Terrible Things to Do With Lemons Other Than Making Lemonade
Steve Rogers is a home health nurse. He works for an agency, which assigned him to the aging Winifred Barnes, the one and only Silent Era Hollywood darling. As her needs increased, she requested the agency assign Steve to her full-time. She could pay for it, so she got it. Steve then moved in with her, becoming her caregiver; he cooked, he cleaned, he managed her medications, he made sure she was comfortable.
Winifred's children treated him less than ideally. He was the help, after all. And then Steve had the audacity to go and turn out to be eldest son James Barnes's soulmate. No one saw that coming.
The Masseur and the Assassin by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy @buckybarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 17k words, Explicit]
Bucky Barnes needed a vacation from his job. What he found was a happy ending.
The Words Breathe by buckbarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 1k words, Mature]
All Steve has to do is keep his promise. When he doesn’t, Bucky gets mouthy.
Soft by this_wayward_life @wayward-lives [Stucky, 2k words, Explicit]
The last time he'd seen Bucky he'd looked unhealthy, with pallid skin and greasy, lanky hair. Now, Bucky shone; his hair was thick and silky, his skin a deep bronze from spending so much time outside. He was softer, too; the hard muscle that used to cover him was now replaced by soft fat, his body still strong, but in a more mundane way. His thighs were thicker, his ass plumper, and when he'd pulled Steve into the river Steve had noticed the pudge on his stomach.
Seeing Bucky so happy, well-fed and shining, was a bit of a kick in the face. For all the years they'd known each other, he'd never seen Bucky so... care-free. Now that Bucky was putting on weight, his middle soft and his body malleable, it sent a bolt of arousal through Steve every time he noticed the curves of Bucky's body.
Or: Bucky put on a bit of weight in Wakanda, and Steve is Not Coping.
🌻 Revive Another Side of Me by dontcallmebree @iamthe-wo-manwhocan [Stucky, 1k words, Mature]
Steve’s never lived in a world without Bucky, and he’s not living now. It takes them a while, much too long, to get that awaited rest, a little slice of peace after the dust has settled.Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes are inseparable, history remembers. But they’re not men of the past quite yet.
🌻 imagine being loved by me by spacebuck @spacebuck [Stucky, 20k words, Explicit]
Just after 1am - a few hours after he posted today’s photo - he hears the tell-tale sound of a twitter message. Bucky grabs his phone, not checking who it’s from as he opens it because it’s probably one of his mutuals yelling at him as per usual. When he actually looks at his phone, though, it’s not Natasha
The ‘verified’ check stares back at him for a long moment before he can even bring himself to process the name on his screen. Steve Rogers is messaging him. Or, he reasons, a very good fake. The handle looks right though, not that Bucky knows. Not that Bucky has Captain’s America’s tweets set up as notifications, or that Bucky’s own display name is set to captain america’s bitch. Not at all.
Hey, the first message says. It’s Steve.
🌻 JB’s Complete Lube Services by dixons_mama @dixons-mama [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]
People just didn’t approach Captain America and proposition him. Although, sometimes Steve wished they would; even the pinnacle of virtue and justice needed to get dicked down from time to time.
Or, the one where Steve has the hots for a mechanic and decides to be proactive in getting that dick.
If it had to be someone by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 1k words, Mature]
Bucky had known since he was a child that he didn’t have a choice in who he married, but he’d thought he had more time before the day arrived.
Miscalculations by christywantspizza @christywantspizza [Ransom Drysdale/Reader, 6k words, Explicit]
Ransom tries to get you to sleep with him by less than honorable means. You give him what he wants, just not how he wants it.
How to Seduce a Writer by obsessivereader [Stucky, 2k words, Teen]
What's a determined master strategist going to do when the oblivious writer he's trying to woo keeps missing all the clues?
He doesn’t think it’s because he hadn’t signaled his own interest to Bucky. He’s pretty much done everything short of hitting Bucky over the head with semaphore flags by this point. There’s no way Bucky could’ve missed them. Unless… There’d been that one link he’d stumbled upon when he’d googled ‘how to talk to a writer’. It’d been written by a writer, who’d been candid about how oblivious writers could be, and how someone could go about seducing one. An idea starts to form. It’s ridiculous, but at this point, he’s willing to go with ridiculous, since subtle wasn’t getting him anywhere.
🌻 Pod Bless America by Deisderium @deisderium [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]
Bucky can't believe his favorite podficcer recorded his newest fanfic AU of the show Commandos. He's even more surprised when the customer who busts him listening to fic while he's working in the office supply store turns out to be that podficcer.
* The guy—maybe bi_shield?—took his phone, looked down at the screen, and smiled. "Yeah, that one's mine," he said with no evidence of embarrassment. "It was a good one." He handed the phone back to Bucky.
"I wrote it," Bucky croaked.
take a bite by wearing_tearing [Stucky, 7k words, Mature]
"I’d never let anyone freeze to death.” Steve gives a big sigh and flutters his lashes. “All that blood gone to waste.”
Bucky’s lips turn down and his nose scrunches up a little. “I want to be grossed out, but…”
“But you get it.” Steve gives him a pointed look. “Vampires aren’t the only ones who can appreciate how juicy blood is.”
*
Or: Vampire Steve saves newly-turned werewolf Bucky from a snowstorm.
Leaving the Shield Behind by BuckyAboveEverything [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]
“So, on one hand, we have Steve Rogers - hunk, genius, animal lover. Buys you waffles and overpriced coffee. 100% wholesome all-American boy.”
“And, on the other hand, we have Capsicle – twink, smart-ass, fanboy. Reads your stories and sends you fanart. Possibly a pervert or a serial killer.”
Bucky groaned.
“I am 100% certain I am 0% sure of what to do."
Bucky Barnes, full-time copywriter and free-time fanfic writer, struggles to choose between two equally-attractive suitors, only to find that he doesn’t have to after all.
* Based on a true story *
Cap's Book Corner by Neche [Stucky, 2k words, Teen]
Recluse Author Bucky Barns stumbles into fanboy Steve Rogers bookstore one day...
Cat Nap by galwednesday @galwednesday [Stucky, 8k words, Teen]
Objectively, losing the Bucharest safehouse and its contents was the least of Bucky’s problems. The balding agent he’d seen directing the raid was apparently affiliated with SHIELD, which was a shadowy government agency that made representatives from other shadowy government agencies suddenly remember urgent appointments when Bucky tried to bribe, threaten, and otherwise shake them down for information on what the hell SHIELD might want with a former brainwashed assassin. Dodging SHIELD should be his number one priority.
Subjectively, he wanted his fucking cat back.
at any given moment by honeypuffed [Stucky, 1k words, Teen]
Steve and Bucky find out that everyone thinks they're sleeping together.
Brought to Brightness by eyres [Stucky, 10k words, Teen]
Army veteran Bucky Barnes has fallen in love with Steve, a guy he met online a few months after he returned from Afghanistan. Only problem is, he doesn't know Steve's last name or even what he looks like.
When his sister helps him send his story into MTV's Catfish, he's hoping they can help him meet Steve or, at least, let him move on with his life if Steve isn't real. Little does he know, Steve and Captain America have more in common than just a first name.
🌻 Nokken Wood by leveragehunters @leveragehunters [Stucky, 10k words, Teen]
When Sam's friend needs a house-sitter for his place in the country, Steve jumps at the chance. Six months rent-free to do nothing but draw and paint and wander the countryside, looking for inspiration? It was like a dream. But when he gets lost in a storm and nearly falls into a pond he starts to rethink the whole like a dream aspect of life in the country. And when a red-eyed, sharp-clawed, silver-fanged creature rises out of the darkness, Steve is one hundred percent certain the dream's morphed into a nightmare.
...until it gives him a cup of tea.
(Inspired partly by this prompt a supernatural creature is supposed to scare you but instead it gives you a cup of tea and a blanket because you're having a bad day and you keep coming back and partly by this painting.)
Professional Pride by galwednesday [Stucky, 700 words, Teen]
Bucky is having a very good day, until he turns around and finds himself face-to-face with Captain America.
“Oh shit,” he blurts before he can stop himself, and Captain America blinks at him. “Hey, hi, I didn’t expect to see you here.” Here, at New York’s Pride parade, surrounded by thousands of happy screaming people wearing rainbows and sometimes not much else. What is he doing here? Is he on guard duty or something? Was he just on a mission and happened to be passing by on his way back?
He’s in uniform but with the cowl loose around his neck, so when he rubs the back of his head it fluffs up his matted hair. “I, uh. I saw one of your–temporary tattoos?” Captain fucking America says, like it’s a question.
The A-bridged Guide to Trolling by galwednesday [Stucky, 1k words, Teen]
“I don’t have any money.”
Oh no, now the girl looked upset. Her eyes were huge and her lip was wobbling. Bucky tried to think fast despite the oh shit oh shit oh shit looping through his head.
“That’s okay,” Bucky said gently. “I don’t need money. We can figure out another kind of toll.”
The girl frowned at him. “Like what?”
Bucky scratched his head, trying to think of something a kid was certain to have on hand. “Do you know any jokes?”
(Fantasy AU in which Steve is a hedge witch with a green thumb, Bucky is a bridge troll who's new in town, and knock-knock jokes are a viable form of currency.)
It's a bittersweet ending (if you know what I mean) by relenafanel [Stucky, 1k words, Teen]
“I’ll see you around, Steve,” Bucky answers with a smirk, moving away from the counter with a wink.
Steve watches him go. Bucky’s wearing a pair of skinny jeans coated in something to give the appearance of leather. It’s impossible to not watch him go.
stuck on you by wearing_tearing [Stucky, 5k words, Teen]
“Bucky? You don’t look so hot.”
Bucky makes a tiny little sound in the back of his throat, only to start coughing. Of course he doesn’t look hot. He’s sick and he’s dying and Steve obviously isn’t attracted to him.
Decision-Making in Relationships (Paid Research Opportunity!) by castiowl [Stucky, 8k words, Teen]
Clint looked thoughtfully at the flyer. “I guess your actual roommate wouldn’t be down with it?”
Bucky frowned. “Have you met Steve Rogers?”
no way out but through by hollimichele [Stucky, 9k words, Teen]
Steve never sees it coming.
you got blood on your hands (and i know it's mine) by nighimpossible [Stucky, 3k words, Teen]
Bucky refuses to see Steve after his deprogramming.
Like What You See by daisymondays [Stucky, 8k words, Teen]
For all the time Bucky’s spent fantasizing about meeting Captain America, he’d never imagined it would be while posing nude in front of a drawing class.
🌻 A Real Boy by itsnotbleak [Stucky, 5k words, Teen]
It took the Winter Soldier three weeks to remember that human beings needed to sleep and eat.
It took Steve far too long to realise the Winter Soldier was sleeping in his bed.
Amapola by chaya [Stucky, 830 words, Teen]
Total fluff. Bucky's recovering nicely. Steve's oblivious. Sometimes it's best to set aside subtlety for action.
Knocking Boots With Sugar by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 4k words, Explicit]
In between summers at college, Steve Rogers wants a new adventure beyond his lonely life in Brooklyn. He ends up in West Texas working on a dude ranch where Bucky Barnes is a long-time employee. When Bucky offers to buy Steve a drink, they end up drunk on tequila and making out in public. For the rest of the summer, they're inseparable. As the summer draws to a close, Steve realizes he doesn't want to leave.
Rogers and Associate by roe87 @jro616 [Stucky, 7k words, Teen]
When they first meet, Bucky is a hooker and Steve is a cop. She's been arrested, but Steve lets her off.
Years pass and they maintain a casual friendship, seeing each other out on the streets most nights.
Though he later makes detective, Steve loses faith in the system and quits his job.
He wants to set up as a private investigator, and he asks Bucky if she'd be his assistant.
Just in time by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 1k words, Mature]
Bucky knew the apartment he was renting was old fashioned, but walking in the front door and finding himself transported back to 1938 was not on the list of things he had prepared himself for.
🌻 You Like What's in My Head by dontcallmebree [Stucky, 15k words, Explicit] (with art by @kocuria)
Bucky can’t decide if Steve’s a tough nut to crack or incredibly easy. The timbre of his voice, a low and almost amused, “Sure, kid,” when Bucky asks for a drink feels like something gripping him on the back of his neck.
He thinks this might be one of those moments in life he’ll pinpoint in the future and either curse at for dooming himself, or remember fondly with pride.
He’s right. Bucky Barnes blunders through falling in love with Commander Rogers and tries to find a deeper meaning behind the expensive gifts and thorough fucking.
Can I Sit Here? by BuckyFrickenBarnes [Stucky, 962 words, General]
Bucky has unusual methods for getting rid of his writer's block.
Or, Bucky needs that table.
Workplace Romance by BuckyFricken Barnes [Stucky, 1k words, General]
Bucky is under the impression that his boss hates him.
Or,
Steve needs to get better at dealing with his feelings.
🌻 1-800-MAYTAG by Miss Plum @misspluckyplum [Stucky, 1k words, Explicit]
Bucky just wants to get some housework done. It gets out of hand fast. Silly little fluff and smut romp with snarky stucky boys.
Eyes of the Forest by Lordelannette [Stucky, 7k words, Explicit] (2/8 chapters available)
When Omega Bucky Barnes comes to Eagle Lake, it was in search of wolves, a creature that had not been seen in the area for decades.
What he finds instead is Steve Rogers, a handsome, though quiet Alpha who seems to be everywhere in the forest.
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jinx | kara danvers x arias!reader
a/n: i decided to just combine both these requests and I had fun writing this :)
requested by @babyydanvers and anon:
“hi, could you write something where kara x fem reader go on a date for their 2 year anniversary together & then they go back to their apartment & the reader & kara propose at the same time thank youuu.”
“can i make a request for either kara or laurel? i don’t care what it is lol you just write good quality fics. i know it’ll be good”
warnings: none
word count: 2.1k
masterlist | request list | request rules
i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated
“Will you marry me?”
12 hours earlier
“Would you stop pacing?”
“I can’t. I’m too anxious about tonight.” You said, as you walked back and forth in Lena’s office.
“She’s gonna love it, y/n.” Lena said, admiring the ring you had bought.
After 2 years of being together, you had decided to propose to your girlfriend, Kara. And you were extremely scared, to say the least.
What if she said no?
What if she didn’t like the ring?
What if-
“Y/N, it’s beautiful. So how are you gonna do it?” Lena asked as you put the ring back in it’s respective box and pocketed it in your coat.
“I was planning to take her out to dinner. Make it extremely romantic and then when we get back to the loft, I’ll propose. It’ll just be us two which is better because we’re both private people and it’s more personal that way.”
“That’s gonna be awesome. And she doesn’t suspect a thing?”
Your best friend asked as you both turned to look at Kara through the glass doors. She was sitting at her desk, typing away on her laptop, presumably preparing her next article.
“No. At least I don’t think so.”
Saying goodbye to Lena, you walked out of her office and made your way behind Kara. Moments before you were beside her, she closed her laptop and turned to face you.
“Hey, baby. You okay?” She asked sweetly, standing up to kiss you.
“Yeah, I’m good. What are you doing?”
“Oh, I-I’m just writing an article.”
“Oh, what about?”
“I-I, uh, can’t say. It’s top secret.” She said, readjusting her glasses.
“Okay.” You said, eyes narrowing at her behaviour. “I should be getting back to L-Corp. I’ll see you later?”
“Yeah, I’m excited for our dinner tonight.” She beamed.
“Me too, love.”
You kissed your girlfriend goodbye and then caught a cab back to work.
***
Stepping into the office, you greeted your sister.
“Hey, Sam.”
“Hey. I know you’re gonna be leaving soon for the thing tonight but I need you to do me a favour.”
“Yeah, sure. What’s up?” You asked, leaning on Sam’s white desk, arms folded.
“Ruby left her USB with Alex. And it has her homework on it. She’s freaking out and I’m not going to let her go alone but I’m super busy here. I’ve got back to back meetings and-”
“Sammy, breathe. It’s fine. Just tell Ruby I’ll be at yours in a hour or two and I’ll give it her then.”
“God, you’re a life saver. Anyway, how are you? You nervous?” Sam asked, a smile replacing the worry on her face.
“Extremely. I just love her so much and I can’t wait to ask her but I’m just scared she’ll say no.”
“Of course she wouldn’t. I know she wouldn’t. She loves you, y/n.” Sam reassured you.
“Yeah, I know. It’s just my anxiety. Anyway, I better get to the DEO now if I’m gonna be ready for tonight.”
“No worries. Good luck, sis.” She said with a look in her eye that you couldn’t distinguish.
“Thanks” You replied before hugging her.
You then drove your car to the DEO. You had left it at L-Corp before visiting Lena at CatCo but you knew that you couldn’t catch a cab to the DEO. It was a secret Government organisation after all.
Walking into the DEO, you greeted Jonn and a few other workers you were familiar with when you noticed Alex speaking to Brainy.
“Hey, Danvers. Hey, Brainy.” You greeted the duo when they turned to face you.
“Hi, Y/N. Here’s Ruby’s USB.” Alex said, handing you the small memory stick which you put in your pocket.
“Thanks, Rubes was losing her mind according to Sam.”
Alex laughed in response before smiling.
“So...everything set for tonight?”
Alex was one of the very first people who knew about your proposal as you had asked her for permission considering she was the most important person in Kara’s life. Of course, when you had asked, she immediately gave her blessing and then gave you her whole ‘If you hurt my sister, I’ll hurt you’ speech.
“Yes. I think I’m good. Just hope everything goes to plan and Kara loves it.”
“I know she will.”
It was funny. Both Lena and Sam had said that too, as if they knew Kara would definitely say ‘yes’.
“Yes. Did you know that 1 in 4 women actually turn down a marriage proposal? I’m sure Kara won’t be that one.”
“Brainy!” You and Alex exclaimed as Alex hit him upside the head.
“Ow. That was insensitive of me. I apologise.” The intellectual said.
“It’s fine, Brainy.” You sighed and when you lifted your head, you noticed Kara in one of the labs.
“See you guys.”
You made your way to the lab and when Kara saw you, she closed the door to the lab behind her and walked up to you.
“Hey, we keep bumping into each other.” Kara laughed.
“Yes, we do. What are you up to?” You asked curiously.
It was the second time today that she was acting suspiciously.
“Oh, just Supergirl stuff. Anyway, we should be getting ready. Meet me by the stairs and we can go home together?”
“I drove so just meet me outside.” You countered.
“Okay, let me just pack up.”
Kara nodded and as you walked away, Kara re-entered the lab but her cape cloaked what she was doing.
***
“That was delicious.”
Kara said, unlocking the door to the loft. You both had had dinner at an infamous restaurant and after sharing dessert, you decided to come back home.
In the cab, your nerves had started to bubble but now that you were home, they were at an all time high.
Kara dropped her keys on the table and she grabbed your hand and pulled you to the sofa. You both sat on it but you couldn’t stop fidgeting.
“Kara?”
“Yes, baby?”
“I need to ask you something.” You stood up and held Kara’s hands in yours.
“I think you’re amazing. You really are the best person in my life. Before I met you, I was a mess. I didn’t really know how to live until I met you. I love the way you see the world from a different perspective. I love that you give life a new meaning.”
“I love that despite everything that has happened in your life, you still care so much for other people and it physically hurts my heart to see you cry. That is how amazing you are. That is why I love you. That is why I have something important to ask you.”
You continued before letting out a breath when you saw tears in Kara’s eyes.
It was now or never.
“Will you marry me?”
“No.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“No.”
12 hours earlier
Kara paused typing on her laptop and peered over her shoulder where she saw you and her best friend, Lena, in deep conversation. She was going to use her super hearing to listen in on your words but stopped herself. She promised you that she wouldn’t use her powers on you.
She looked back at her laptop and scrolled through the images on her laptop. She had already chosen the perfect one and seeing all the options available reconfirmed her initial choice.
She stopped when she heard the door open and footsteps nearing her. Shutting her laptop to hide its contents, she turned around to face you.
“Hey, baby. You okay?” She asked sweetly, standing up to kiss you.
“Yeah, I’m good. What are you doing?”
“Oh, I-I’m just writing an article.” Kara stuttered.
“Oh, what about?”
“I-I, uh, can’t say. It’s top secret.” She said, readjusting her glasses. She was now getting flustered.
“Okay.” You said and Kara saw your eyes narrow at her behaviour. “I should be getting back to L-Corp. I’ll see you later?”
“Yeah, I’m excited for our dinner tonight.” She beamed.
“Me too, love.”
Kara reciprocated your kiss and watched you step into the CatCo lift.
That was close.
***
“Maybe next time you should rethink robbing a bank.” Kara said, handing the handcuffed criminals to Maggie and another detective.
Before Maggie left, she gave a quick thumbs up to the superhero and Kara flew back to the DEO.
When she arrived, she greeted Alex with a hug.
“Where is it?”
Alex nodded in the direction of the lab so Kara made her way to it. Upon entering the lab, she saw what she was looking for in the centre of the table.
Looking behind again, she saw you speaking to her sister. Quickly moving a set of beakers in front of the box, she left the lab to greet you.
“Hey, we keep bumping into each other.” Kara laughed, hands on her hips.
“Yes, we do. What are you up to?” You asked curiously. Kara could tell you were suspicious.
“Oh, just Supergirl stuff. Anyway, we should be getting ready. Meet me by the stairs and we can go home together?” Kara hated lying but it was necessary.
“I drove so just meet me outside.” You countered.
“Okay, let me just pack up.” Kara nodded and as you walked away, Kara re-entered the lab and grabbed the box, concealing it in her cape.
***
You and Kara had now had an amazing dinner at the restaurant and were back at your loft.
Kara watched as you began to pace before kneeling in front of her and listened as you told her why you loved her causing tears to fill her eyes.
“Will you marry me?”
Kara looked into your eyes and saw that they were dark. Stark. For all you’d endured, you were a nurturing soul with a full heart. That was the quality that first attracted her. Breathing deeply, she built up her courage.
Now or Never. She thought to herself.
“No.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Present Time
Your heart dropped into your stomach as you knelt on the ground.
“What? Why?”
You watched as Kara slid off the sofa and kneeled in front of you. Pulling a small box from her pocket, she opened it and stared at you lovingly.
“Because I wanted to propose to you.”
You stared in shock at the ring in the velvet box as she did the same to yours.
You both were tearing up before Kara laughed through her tears, “so...are we gonna answer?”
“Yes, you fool. I love you and I’d love to marry you.” You chuckled.
“I love you too and can’t wait to marry you either.”
You both then took your rings out of their respective boxes and placed them on each other’s fingers. Kara then grabbed your face and pulled you in for a deep kiss.
When you pulled away, you jumped at the sound of applause behind you.
You both turned and saw Lena, Sam, Maggie and Alex standing in your bedroom; Lena and Maggie were holding up phones, presumably videoing you.
Your mouth dropped and you looked at Kara in surprise.
“Did you-?” Kara shook her head.
“You?” You shook your head.
“Where the fuck did you guys come from?”
“You said we’d be alone.”
You and Kara said at the same time.
Then you both looked at each other again,
“Wait, you told them you were going to propose?” You asked, looking at Kara.
“Yeah, and I asked Sam, sort of for her blessing. Wait, you told Alex?”
“Yeah, I asked Alex for her blessing.” You replied.
You both turned to face your family again.
“You guys fucking knew Kara and I were going to propose to each other at the same fucking time and you said nothing?” You shouted.
“Yeah, we thought it was going to be both hilarious and romantic.” Sam snorted causing everyone to laugh.
You and Kara looked at each other and nodded then you both picked up the pillows on the sofa and ran straight for the small group. You began hitting them until you, Sam and Maggie fell on the bed and Kara, Alex and Lena fell on the floor.
You started laughing and once you started, everyone joined in.
You whacked your sister’s head before leaning over the bed and meeting your fiancée’s eyes. She kneeled and kissed you lovingly once more.
Pulling away, she winked.
“Jinx.”
#supergirl#supergirl x reader#kara danvers#kara danvers x reader#lena luthor#lena luthor x reader#sam arias#sam arias x reader#maggie sawyer#maggie sawyer x reader#alex danvers#alex danvers x reader#brainy#brainy x reader#ruby arias#proposal#superfriends#supercorp#reigncorp#agentreign#superreign#sanvers#c: kara danvers#c: arias!reader#c: jinx#s: mine
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Gin and Juice: Part IV
a/n: In which a meeting takes place, Reader lies (again), and Shawn plays a big game.
The response to this series has been truly, truly incredible. I’ve gotten so much unexpected feedback and I love all of it. Keep liking, reblogging, and commenting! I always want to hear from you!
Previous parts are on my MASTERLIST
warnings: American football content, sorry for the jargon 😬
Shawn was pacing with nervous energy, jangling his keys in his pocket. Checking the time on his phone, he huffed and unlocked it, making sure that he’d sent her the right room number.
Study Room B038. Friday 5 PM.
It was 5:04. She was late. He had chosen this time specifically because he had an easy out if he needed to leave. Every Friday before a game, he had team dinner at Coach’s house at 7 PM, then the whole team left on buses to stay off-campus at a hotel to rest up and stay on curfew before the game. But, this girl, whoever she was, probably didn’t know the schedule, so he was free to make up any time that he had to leave with just a little white lie.
He heard the door knob turn and froze. Her head was bowed, shoulders forward, a posture it looked like she defaulted to, when she walked in. He couldn’t see her face behind the thick waves of soft brown hair hanging in the way. Not two steps into the room, she tripped over the nearest chair, heading straight for the floor.
Shawn took two big strides and caught her by the shoulders mid-fall. Her head popped up, locking wide ocean blue eyes with him. Recognition stirred, flashing images swimming in his vision. A spilled beer. A wet shirt. Looking back at those blue eyes and feeling the blush bloom on his face.
It was her.
He walked out of the living room, swimming with humanity, as fast as possible. Too many people. He could practically see his worth reflected in their eyes. They only saw what he could give them, what he could bring them. None of them knew or cared about him beyond the material or social value he held.
Lost in his thoughts, he rounded a close corner on his way to the kitchen for something harder to drink. It wasn’t until his cup fell out of his hand that he realized someone was there.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” he yelled over the noise of the party. At first, she just stood there, looking him up and down like she wasn’t quite sure if he was real. She swivelled her head up to look at him, and he inwardly gasped at her eyes. They looked like cerulean cut glass, so blue and yet so clear that he felt like he could see straight down to their core. It was as unsettling as it was exhilarating.
She still hadn’t made a move since he spilled his drink all over her. He took a survey of the damage, which allowed him to stare at her petite body for just a second longer than he probably needed to. She was fucking cute as hell. Where did this girl come from? He realized he was looking at her instead of helping.
His head shot up toward the kitchen, seeing his idiot left tackle walking toward him, “HEY GEOFF!?! CAN YOU BRING ME A RAG OR SOMETHING??”
Shawn turned back to her, noticing her shivering. Why won’t she say something? He pleaded with her to talk to him with his eyes, softening his gaze like he would with a baby deer. She felt so cold, but he could see the sweat starting to collect on her brow.
Geoff finally returned with a rag and he started to help her by dabbing it on her chest. Her eyes widened in momentary panic, and she jumped half a foot away from him, out of his reach.
His face bloomed pink in mortification. He handed the cloth to her, stuttering apologies, clearly dropping the ball and wanting to escape as fast as possible. When he had gotten far enough away for her to not notice, he looked back. She was still standing there with those wide blue eyes staring. He really wished he could have heard her voice.
* * * * * * * * * *
He held your shoulders for a beat too long. The look on his face reminded you of that night in the bathroom just before he had thrown up, but this time there was confusion mixed with a strange wonderment.
“Uh, Shawn?” you snapped, waving your fingers in his face, really needing him to stop touching you. His imposing figure and rough fingers on your skin made it difficult to breathe, let alone think. He blinked several times and shook his head, “sorry, sorry. Uhh, you’re late.”
“Thanks for pointing that out,” you said with a little edge in your voice, “I’ve been outside the door debating whether or not I should come in.”
The confusion in his face deepened, “you were going to stand me up?” He shook his head again, as if no one on the planet had ever suggested such insanity in his entire life. It would have been annoying if it weren’t so earnest. You rolled your eyes at him.
“It’s not about you...well not 100% about you,” you really weren’t here to divulge the nature of your social anxiety, “just never mind, why are we here?” You looked at him expectantly. The earnest expression had slowly morphed into something timid and slightly...embarrassed?
You were confused. He had wanted you to come here to talk but now he seemed like he was rethinking it. He was nervous about whatever he came to say. His eyes wandered to his feet, bound in leather Chelsea boots, as he kicked the carpet. His athletic legs were wrapped in the skinniest black jeans you’d ever seen. He ran his hands down the fabric clinging to his thighs and finally spoke.
“Uhm, yeah. So,” he looked off past your head, avoiding your eyes at all cost, “how badly would you be offended if I asked you your name?”
His cheeks flushed bright red as he wrung his hands in front of you. He looked like a small boy who knew he’d done something wrong. A very tall, very muscular, very gorgeous small boy. What had happened to that charm? You held your hand up to your face to hide the smile that threatened.
He didn’t remember your name. Did he remember anything about that night? Did you want him to? It had been six days since that night, so if he was going to remember something, it probably would have happened by now. Maybe you could play this off, just tell him your name and make something up about what happened after he blacked out. You could put this whole thing to bed once and for all. It seemed like that might put him at ease.
You let the laughter bubble up to the surface. It sounded strange to your ears, a little too high-pitched and a little too effervescent, but you hoped he wouldn’t notice. You had to make this casual, had to make it believable. He couldn’t know you were lying. You reached out and touched his bicep.
“Oh, it’s fine, Shawn,” you giggled, telling him your name, voice dripping with nonchalance, “you’re a busy guy, and we were both drunk at that party.”
He looked puzzled for a minute, but then smoothed his brow, nodding, “Yeah, yeah we were.”
“You really don’t remember?” you asked, trying for incredulous, “we hung out in the kitchen for a bit. I grabbed your hand and wrote my number. It was innocent.” By the end, the pitch in your voice had climbed three octaves. Maybe he would think you were crazy and that would solve all of your problems.
“But, why didn’t you want to meet with me? In public?” he asked, sounding hurt. Shit. You grasped for idea strings in the giant ball of twine in your mind. This was starting to get complicated and you weren’t sure how long you could keep it up.
“Uhm, I was embarrassed,” you mumbled, sounding more convincing, “I basically threw myself at you and you didn’t want me that night. I really didn’t want to face that in the light of day. I didn’t want anyone who might see me with you to ask questions later.”
“Oh,” he said, scrubbing the nape of his neck and looking almost remorseful. Maybe this was working. He glanced at you out of the side of his eye and you thought he might attempt to poke holes in your story. But instead, he just shrugged violently, “well, I’m sorry I disappointed you.”
He sounded like he might have meant that in some way other than in reference to your lies. Both of you stood there awkwardly, shifting weight in opposite directions. You were getting dizzy from the boat-rocking sensation. He looked placid, blank.
“Well,” he said, exhaling breath he must have been holding, “I have to go to team dinner.” He turned to open the door wide, but before he stepped through, the composed look in his eyes faded and let a pleading traitor in. It reminded you of the look he gave you that night when he spilled his drink on you—like he just needed you to say something to let him in.
It only lasted for a second, replaced by cool detachment, an essential ingredient in his chainmail of charm. He took a stride through the door and called out behind his shoulder, “it was nice meeting you!”
And then he was gone, leaving you alone in the basement study room with a sneaking suspicion that you had just made a huge mistake.
* * * * * * * * * *
He buckled up his pads over his shoulders and tightened the laces on his cleats. The locker room was noisy, loud rap music playing over the A/V system to pump everyone up. Shawn knew he wasn’t in the right headspace. He knew that he shouldn’t have a pair of blue eyes stuck in his head. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking about her shoulders, so delicate beneath his hands. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking about how she lied to him.
What was she trying to hide?
He couldn’t figure out her angle. She had no idea that he remembered seeing her earlier at the party. The fact that she hadn’t mentioned it was his first red flag. But, she didn’t know that he had a clear memory of her that night. She didn’t know that her behavior in the library betrayed the girl he’d spilled beer on and silently begged to speak to him.
He still felt like he hadn’t heard her real voice.
“OKAY BOYS,” Coach Bradford yelled as the team made its way through the tunnel, getting ready to run out onto the field, “EVERY GAME IS FULL OF INFINITE CHOICES. MAKE SURE YOU CHOOSE THE RIGHT ONES.” Always a last minute cheesy pre-game line to make us think about the philosophical reasons to play the game, “LET’S GO PLAY SOME FOOTBALL.”
Every time Shawn burst out of that tunnel and onto the field, the deafening roar of the crowd took his breath away. It was one of the rushes that kept his running out here every fall, every week, every minute. This week was rivalry week and the crowd was even more live than usual.
He looked out into the crowd, something he wasn’t accustomed to doing. He hated seeing the hungry eyes of all the people there expecting him to win the game for them. But, this week, he scanned for a familiar pair of blue eyes. A crazy endeavor because there was no way he would see her in the ocean of people surrounding the field, but he flipped through a thousand pairs of eyes nonetheless.
“MENDES,” Geoff screamed over the crowd, “GET OVER HERE.” He ran over and butted foreheads with his left tackle, their pre-game ritual. He positioned his mouthguard, made the sign of the cross, and dug his cleats into the turf. The whistle blew, flying high above the cheers.
Shawn should have known it wasn’t going to go his way when he thought he saw her during the first quarter. He lined up at the five-yard-line looked out above the line, called the play, and snapped the ball. Behind his receiver, he caught a flash of blue that made him pause. He took an extra breath, changing his tempo, and let the ball fly directly into the hands of his opponent.
It got worse from there. After three fumbles, two more interceptions, and five missed tackles, Shawn felt like he was taking an ass-kicking. He couldn’t get her out of his head. Somehow they were tied, thanks to a couple of great defensive plays and a lucky run after a handoff, and heading into the two-minute warning, he felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. A loss could jeopardize everything—the conference championship, a national championship bid, his Heisman chances. The weight of the potential disappointment pressed against his chest.
They moved the ball down the field, killing clock until it was the last twenty seconds from the ten. He had one play left to get the ball in the endzone. He dug the ball of his foot into the turf at the line of scrimmage. Crouching behind his lineman, Shawn called the play, “BLUE-42! BLUE-42! HURRY!” He took one last breath in, “HIKE!”
Everything moved in slow motion. He faked the handoff to his running back, leaning back. He pumped once, twice, closed his eyes against the deep blue threatening his vision, and let the ball fly.
to be continued...
So did he win the game? Tell me your theories!
Taglist: @abigfatmess @lifeofthedarty @coffeebringsmelife @transparentjudgepicklething @super-fire-breathing-girl @infiniteshawn @lietomeat3am @lavieenbananabread @blue-skies-are-alright @song-bird-shawn @disappointingyellowhighlighter @brittanyzelazno @lifeofthedarty @sowhatshawn @stillinskislydia @hiterase
#shawn mendes#shawn mendes imagine#shawn mendes fanfic#shawn mendes fanfiction#shawn peter raul mendes#my writing#gin and juice
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!! I saw you reblogged the winter writing prompts post too! We've been reblogging those to @riverdale-events too for those who want to participate. All the Reindeer Mini Games! How about - 08. i slip on some ice and you’re the stranger who catches me - all of the yes!
Some Jarchie Meet-Cute (Feat. Kiwi Archie and Photographer!Jughead because I can)
xxxx
Jughead Jones was the furthest thing from happy as he’d been all day as he left the bookstore. According to his employee record, he’d been one of the most hardworking, diligent, timely employees they’d had. And yet he’d been the first on the chopping block to make room for an honorary position for the boss’s daughter.
Laid off at Christmas. What a damn cliche.
To say his dark and stormy thoughts were elsewhere was an understatement. His mind lingered among all the things he should have said as he walked out the door, all the things he’d have to rethink without a steady source of income. So it really shouldn’t have been a surprise when he hit a patch of black ice on the pavement and felt the world fall out from under him.
He screwed his eyes shut and waited for the inevitable pain and embarrassment that came from falling flat on one’s back, the contents of his bag strewn everywhere while concerned onlookers checked to see if they needed to call someone.
Only the pavement never came up to punch him down even further than his recent firing.
Instead there was someone pulling at his jacket, keeping him from a harsh reality check. He opened his eyes to find a red-haired man holding Jughead by the arm as if he weighed no more than a tissue box. With what seemed to take no effort at all, the man pulled Jughead back to his feet.
“Careful there, hate to see you knock yourself out.”
The man had a slight accent - Australia? New Zealand maybe? - and Jughead wasn’t entirely certain that he hadn’t hit his head. After all, who went around a snow-covered city in a bright blue and gold varsity jacket, sandals, and a guitar?
“Thanks,” Jughead muttered. He straightened out his jacket, expecting that to be the end of that encounter (and in this city, it usually was), but this man seemed to have missed the memo.
“No worries. Would have hated to see you brain yourself.” He paused and scratched the back of his head, a sheepish look on his face. “Mate, do you reckon you could do me a favor? I’m looking for -” the man squinted at the palm of his right hand. “Pod’s? Yeah-nah, that can’t be right. Pob’s? Pab’s? Pa-”
“Pop’s?”
“That’s the one.”
The redhead stood there, grinning widely with an expectation that Jughead could never decline to help. And in a way, he was right. Jughead couldn’t help but feel a sense of comradery with the man. Something about him was so nice it almost seemed a waste of energy to try and dislike him.
He quickly squashed that feeling though. Afterall, the redhead was just another lost tourist, someone who’d leave the city as quickly as he’d come. And yet…
“I’m headed there now. I can walk with you, if you want,” Jughead said as noncommittally as possible. He shoved his hands into his coat pockets and looked purposefully away from the man.
“Choice, bro. Lead the way.”
They began walking, and if Jughead noticed how close they were he didn’t mention it. It wasn’t until they’d reached the light at the end of the road that the man held out his hand.
“I’m Archie, by the way.”
Jughead shook it and noted the callouses on Archie’s fingertips. Likely the guitar wasn’t a prop to draw attention as he’d first suspected.
“Jughead.”
Archie raised an eyebrow, but didn’t ask about the nickname. Instead he filled the walk with amicable chatter about his experiences in the city while Jughead offered his own minor commentary. It was, on the whole, like talking with a very friendly, very enthusiastic travel blogger.
Jughead should have been put off by the chatty Kiwi (a fact discerned by Archie’s disappointment not to be able to find a ‘Kiwiburger’ in the states), but instead he found himself responding more the longer the conversation went on. It was as if he’d known the man his entire life rather than just ten minutes.
When they arrived at the diner, Archie held the door open for him. The first thing Jughead noticed was that half the diner had gone silent and was staring at the redhead behind him.
“At least let me buy you a cup of coffee. To new friends and all, yeah?” Archie asked, oblivious to the attention.
Never one to turn down coffee, Jughead pulled his beanie down further over his ears and hiked his collar up. “There’s a booth in the back,” he said with a nod.
He waved at Rosie the waitress as he passed. Archie, though, seemed to greet everyone on their way to the back. It was an odd thing, for someone who hadn’t been to Pops’ before, but Jughead put it down to his overly friendly nature.
Jughead took his regular seat in the booth, and Archie seemed relieved to be able to put his back to the door. It was easy to read Archie, Jughead realized, and that was strange in-of-itself. Or maybe that was just who Archie was. Someone who was confident and self-assured enough to put himself out there.
He seemed normal enough, despite the curiosity of the rest of the diner, and that Jughead put down to the redhead being a novelty. Everyone knew or recognized everyone else within the soft, neon glow. Pops’ was a local diner for local residents, and not many tourists made it this far out of the city unless they knew a local, so Jughead chalked the interest down to that.
“So what do you do?” Archie asked after they’d ordered coffee.
A mocha latte, extra whipped cream for Archie, a black, no cream, no sugar, endless refills for Jughead.
“In general or professionally?”
Archie shrugged and picked up a menu to flip through it. “Both. Either.” He thought about it for a moment and Jughead could almost see his thought process. “What would you want your obituary to read if you carked it?”
Jughead snorted at the unexpectedly morbid statement. There were a lot of things he knew he didn’t want put in his obituary - his inability to hold a steady job, his jadedness about the world and the people in it, his use of sardonic humor to keep from getting close to people. (At least he’d be a self-reflective corpse.)
“I’m a freelance photographer for the local newspaper.”
Archie’s head jerked up in interest. His grin was so wide it was easy to see that he’d been the recipient of braces in his younger years. No one had teeth that straight and white without some dental work.
“Yeah? That’s keen. How’d you get into that?”
It was a long story, one that Jughead was still a bit sore about. His ex had inherited her parents newspaper and, in a pinch, had called him at three in the morning to ask if he could photograph some rally protesting a high school shutting down to make way for a prison. And because it was Betty asking him, he couldn’t say no. They might have broken up after college, but she was still his best friend. And even his jaded, sardonic heart couldn’t say no to the paycheck she’d offered.
Betty had called him a godsend and used him as a photographer on and off since then, his ability to work odd and long hours a benefit to them both. But Jughead couldn’t help but have the sneaking suspicion that this was some sort of hand out, some way that Betty had come up with to help him financially in all the ways he’d refused when they’d been dating.
It was an irritable thought he kept to himself. Working for her had lead to other jobs, but he still couldn’t help feeling strangely indebted to her.
“A friend needed me to photograph a political protest,” he said, condensing the entire story in the sentence blurb the paper would use. (After all, they charge by the letter.) “I’ve been working with her ever since.”
“Do you take other jobs? A friend of mine’s been wanting to do an album cover, but she thinks all the ones she’s used before are rubbish. I can show her some of yours at our next meeting. I’m sure they’re brilliant.”
Archie’s interest seemed genuine, and it was the first time in a long time Jughead wanted to share his personal work with anyone. But it was easy enough to be excited over someone else’s work. It wasn’t so easy to be rejected outright, especially when your work would forever be labeled as ‘rubbish.
Besides, his friend was likely some indie artist with two hundred followers on NoiseCumulus offering to pay in ‘exposure’ and ‘experience.’ Two ‘e’s that didn’t pay the bills.’
“Yeah, sure. Maybe.” It was a noncommittal answer, the same one Jughead used to get out of things without having to make up an excuse for it.
There was a lull filled with the sounds of cutlery and line cooks yelling out orders. It occurred to Jughead a moment too late that it was his turn to move the conversation along.
“What is it you do?”
Archie looked at him strangely a moment. With an amused grin, he said, “I sing a little. Gig around bars and street corners. Crash on some friends’ couches, that sort of thing.”
“Bet you meet a lot of interesting people that way,” Jughead said.
“That’s a nice way of putting it.”
There was a jingle at the door and a stranger dressed in clothes that screamed old money walked in. He looked around the diner before taking off his sunglasses. The sight of him set Jughead’s teeth on edge just on principle alone. Or maybe that was just the amount of hair pomade the man obviously used.
Archie’s phone buzzed. He turned to wave at the man.
“That’s my manager,” he said. He hesitated a moment, and when he’d decided something took a pen out of his pocket and wrote something down on a diner napkin.
“If you want to do dinner tonight, and don’t feel like you have to, but here’s my number,” he said as he wrote.
Surprised at Archie’s interest, and sure he was misreading his intention, Jughead took the napkin. “Dinner would be good. So long as you weren’t thinking Italian. The only good Italian place blew up last month.”
“Sushi then? I’ve been craving it since I landed, but haven’t had the time to find a good place.”
“I know a place,” Jughead told him. “I’ll text you the address.”
“Oh chur. See you then. And don’t forget to bring a portfolio of your work if you want. I can pass it on to Josie this weekend,” Archie said. He reached out and squeezed Jughead’s hand before collecting his guitar and walking towards his manager, who gave Jughead a slow, appraising look. Jughead scowled at him and his overly oiled hair.
A few minutes after Archie left the booth, Jughead’s phone buzzed with a stream of texts from his sister.
‘Archie? You’re having breakfast with Archie Andrews?!?!? Number one pop star and love of all under 17 and over 46???? YOU?????’
‘WHAT have I done to deserve this punishment?’
‘It should have been me!!!!’
‘Did you ask him about his tour? Did you get an autograph?? Did he talk about his music???’
It finally clicked why she was so distraught, though, when she sent the picture of him and Archie walking through the door at Pop’s.
It was so obvious, and yet Jughead had entirely missed it. Archie Andrews was J.B.’s inane pop star, known the world over for his sugary pop lyrics, great smile, and overall charm. For as much as she claimed to be edgy and off the beaten path J.B. had the biggest crush on an inane pop star. His posters covered the walls of her bedroom back at his mother’s apartment, and she listened to his songs on constant rotation when it was just the siblings in a car.
He’d even made the nightly news about his announcement to tour the U.S. as the opening act for Josie and The Pussycats, likely the same Josie he’d mentioned showing Jughead’s work to.
And Jughead had just agreed to go to dinner with him.
#jarchie fanfiction#riverdale fanfiction#jughead jones#archie andrews#tis the season#i'm am so happy about this one tbh
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