#i could go on but i need to stop i think lol

[harryslittlefreakk]

kiss it better

summary: when y/n doesn’t show up to work, harry takes her care into his own hands. ceorry x PA y/n

warnings: mentions of illness and vomiting! just plain fluff other than that

wordcount: a little over 2k

a/n: in honour of me being gravely ill 😀 this is probably not very good lol whatevs!!!! i wanted to write and fluff was calling my name

masterlist

Harry glanced at his watch, frowning as he realised something was off. You were always punctual, always greeting him with a smile and a steaming cup of coffee before he even stepped into his office. But there was no sign of you. His desk was a little too tidy in the absence of your swirling handwriting on sticky notes and files. It smelled musky without the sweet coconut of your perfume to counter the dominance of his aftershave.

He set his briefcase down, pulling out his phone to dial your number. He knew he shouldn’t call you, that whatever kept you from work was obviously important, but he needed to know. The phone rang into Harry’s ear a few times before going to voicemail, his brows knitting as he left his office in search of an explanation for your absence.

He didn’t have to wait long to find out, an email pinging through to his phone almost as soon as he opened his mouth to ask where you were.

Without thinking twice, Harry grabbed his coat and headed for the door, his heart thudding with concern, for reasons that he couldn’t quite place. You never missed work. You were always so reliable, pushing yourself even when you shouldn’t, even when Harry told you not to. If he was in the office, you were too, always leaving later than him and getting in earlier.

He stopped by a small deli as he left the office, ringing his mum in the middle of the fresh produce aisle to get her family-favourite soup recipe. Some fresh bread, vegetables, milk and teabags, medicines and ginger shots.

Harry was carried by some sort of unseen force, a desire to be the hero for a day. It wasn’t until he reached your building’s main entrance that he thought to question what he was doing.

He hadn’t even told anyone he was leaving - his briefcase was still sat on his chair, his work untouched. He was skipping on his own company to show up at your door laden with supplies like he was close enough to you to be your caretaker. He shook his head gently, his out-stretched finger reaching for your buzzer before he even made his mind up on whether to stay or go.

He was at your front door a few minutes later, the groceries hanging limply in his hand as he took in your appearance, his features softening as his eyes trailed over your face. Your usually bright skin was dull and pale, your brown eyes outlined by reds and purples, the tip of your nose tinted pink, your lips dry and cracked.

“Harry? What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice thick and hoarse.

You pulled your cardigan tighter around your waist, wishing the building would just collapse around you, a stray meteor would strike you down, anything to not be standing in front of your boss in your skimpy pyjamas while he looked at you like you were a wounded puppy.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

You shrugged, stepping back into your door as Harry moved towards you. “I didn’t want to bother you. It’s just a cold.”

“Bother me?” He shook his head, stepping around you and pulling the door closed behind him. “You’re never a bother, y/n. I was worried.”

Before you could protest, he was already moving into your small kitchen, setting the groceries on the counter. “I bought supplies. Have you had any medicine? You go sit down and I’ll bring you some over. Tea, coffee, water?”

You looked around in a daze, your gaze flitting between the front door and Harry as your brain struggled to catch up. Medicine, supplies, tea, sick, worried. His words were buzzing around your clouded mind, your brows knitted as you stepped towards him.

“Harry, you don’t have to-” you started, but he shot you a pointed look over his shoulder. You knew that face all too well. It was the ‘I’m in charge here, and we both know it’ look that you’d seen him giving to clients and staff countless times over the past year, usually followed by a smirk in your direction.

“Sit. That’s an order,” he said with a hint of a smile. “I’ll take care of everything.”

You sighed but obeyed, shuffling over to the sofa and sinking into the cushions. You knew better than to argue, especially with the way your body was aching after only walking to the door and back.

“I’ve had medicine already,” you told Harry, nodding your head towards the packet on the coffee table. He padded over, reaching for the pills with a satisfied smile.

“Good girl. Where are your mugs?”

Good girl. You pressed the back of your hand to your cheek, knowing instantly that you were burning up and it had nothing to do with the flu.

“Top cupboard on the left,” you muttered, your voice tiny as Harry stared down at you.

You’d found yourself in a dangerous game. It was hard enough to control yourself around Harry in the office with your wits about you, but with him in your home, apparently intent on taking care of you, calling you a good girl, you were almost ready to plan the wedding.

“Oh no.”

A sudden wave of nausea washed over you, your eyes glued to the floor as you scrambled to your feet, rushing past Harry as if he wouldn’t notice if you went fast enough. You barely made it to the toilet before the nausea overwhelmed you, your body heaving.

Within seconds, Harry was behind you. He knelt down, one hand gently pulling your hair back from your face while the other rubbed over your shoulders. “I’ve got you,” he murmured softly.

Now you really wished someone would smite you down. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, both from the force of being sick and the embarrassment of having Harry see you like this. You tried to apologise, but another wave hit, cutting you off.

“You’re okay,” Harry whispered, his hand never stopping its gentle motion on your back.

You slumped back against the wall, exhausted. Harry stood up to wet your flannel, crouching in front of you to dab at your forehead and cheeks, his touch tender and careful, as if you might break.

The ridiculousness of it all almost made you laugh. There he was, in his thousand pound suit, his curls perfectly styled, wiping the sick from your face as you poured like a child in your Barbie pyjamas. And it was only 11am. There was plenty of time for things to get even worse for you.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice hoarse and weak. “That was mortifying.”

“Hey, none of that,” Harry said firmly, but his eyes were soft as he studied your face. “You’ve taken care of every one of my needs for a year. You’re sick, I’m not going anywhere.”

He pulled you to your feet, keeping a tight hold of your hand as he guided you back to the sofa, fluffing your cushions before you sank down.

You closed your eyes, your body aching with fatigue and the lingering embarrassment of being so messy and vulnerable in front of your boss.

As if he could read your mind, Harry sat down beside you, his arm wrapping tightly around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “I’ve got you,” he murmured again, his voice ghosting over the top of your head. “Just rest. I’m not leaving.”

You let out a shuddering breath, the warmth of his body against yours easing some of the lingering chills. Slowly, the tension began to drain away, the exhaustion tugging at you. You turned slightly, pressing your face into his chest, the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek.

He shifted, carefully adjusting his position so you could lie more comfortably against him. His fingers stroked through your hair, chills shooting straight down your spine.

“You’re okay,” Harry whispered, his lips brushing against your hair. “I’m right here.”

When you didn’t respond, Harry stayed still, holding you close, his heart aching at how fragile you suddenly seemed to him. He would keep you safe, he promised to himself.

—

You were still glued to Harry’s side when you woke, although he’d clearly been busy while you were out cold.

His blazer was slung over a chair, his shirt sleeves rolled up as they always were after a few hours of work. His arm was still tight around you, his free hand dancing across the keyboard of his laptop as he stared and muttered at the screen.

Your lips curled into a little smile with the realisation that he’d been up and about while you slept but had still come back to cuddle you. Your hand instinctively flew to your mouth, covering your smirk before Harry noticed just how happy you were to wake up at his side.

His eyes snapped over to you, his eyes crinkling as his mouth stretched into a grin. “Morning, sunshine,” he teased, setting his laptop to the side.

A gasp fell from your lips as you looked beyond him for the first time since you opened your eyes, realising how little light was left. “It’s nearly dark, Harry. How long was I out?”

“A while,” he shrugged. “It’s a good thing. Your body heals while you sleep.”

You pulled away from him to sit up straight, suddenly conscious of the wet patch on his shirt, his tattoos stark against the translucent fabric. “I kept you hostage here for hours while I drooled all over you.”

“I’ll forward you my dry cleaning bill,” he smirked, peering down at the mark. “I don’t mind, really. I had Tony bring my bits over,” Harry shrugged, nodding towards his laptop. “I got quite a lot done. Maybe we should work from home more often.”

“I won’t be making a habit of chucking my guts up in front of you and drooling all over you,” you whispered, your cheeks blazing hot.

“Glad to hear it, sweetheart. How are you feeling? Do you fancy eating?”

You nodded, running a hand through your wild hair. You didn’t even want to imagine what you looked like. It was becoming increasingly more apparent that you’d have to change your name and flee the country the second Harry left you alone.

But as he padded away from you, you listened to him bustling around your kitchen, the familiar clink of plates and cutlery, it felt all too comforting and all too normal.

Harry came back with a tray, a steaming bowl of soup, some toast, and a cup of tea balanced on top, a tea towel thrown over his arm. He set it down carefully on the coffee table, then sat beside you, watching as you guided a spoonful of soup past your lips.

“This is really good,” you murmured, surprised at how the warmth seemed to spread through you, easing the ache in her throat.

“Glad you like it,” he said, looking pleased. “My mums recipe. I’m half convinced your head could fall off and that soup would manage to cure it.”

You managed to eat most of the soup, under Harry’s watchful gaze. When you finished, he cleaned up quickly, then returned with a fresh cup of tea for you both and a blanket.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” you said softly as he draped the blanket over you.

He gave you a gentle smile, pulling your legs onto his lap. “I wanted to. You take care of me. Let me take care of you for once.”

The energy shifted in the room, the atmosphere clouded with something unspoken. You rubbed a finger over your lips, your gaze lingering on Harry as he traced patterns over your skin.

He glanced over at his laptop, pushing the screen closed. “Alright, I think we’ve earned a movie,” he said, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “What’s your favourite?”

You shrugged, turning your attention to the tv. “I always watch Harry Potter when I’m sick.”

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Barbie pyjamas and Harry Potter. Maybe I don’t know everything about you.”

“Simple pleasures,” you shrugged, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

As the movie played, the sky gradually darkened, the light from the screen casting soft shadows across the room. You’d pulled your legs from Harry’s lap at some point, sinking into the sofa beside him as you sipped at your tea. He kept his eyes on you as you put the mug back down, then without a word, he gently wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer.

You hesitated for a moment before relaxing against him, your head resting on his shoulder. It felt more natural earlier, when you were still dazed and cloudy and overwhelmed with embarrassment. It still felt right, comforting and familiar, but you were so much more aware of your proximity now. Still, when Harry’s hand began to rub slow, soothing circles on your arm, you melted into him.

You glanced up at him after a minute, catching his profile in the flickering light. His eyes were focused on the screen, but there was a softness to his expression, a tenderness that made your heart flutter.

He must have sensed your gaze, because he looked down at you, his eyes locking with yours. For just a moment, the movie, the room, the soft pounding of your head all faded away.

Harry’s hand stilled on your arm, his fingers lingering as if unsure of what they wanted to do next. Then, slowly, he reached up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your flushed skin.

“Y/n..” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. There was something in his eyes, something vulnerable and almost hesitant, as if he were seeking permission.

Your breath caught, your heart quickening. You pushed your head against his touch, just the slightest movement, your eyes never leaving his.

That was all the encouragement Harry needed. Leaning in slowly, he pressed his lips to yours, the kiss so soft and gentle it was almost like the ghost of a breath against your skin. His hand moved to cradle the back of your head, his touch careful, still so gentle as if he was scared he’d break you.

But his kisses were sweet, unhurried, and full of something you couldn’t put into words. He kissed you like he was savouring every moment, like he thought it might be the only time he’d ever feel your lips against his. You felt your whole body surrender to him, enveloped in the warmth and care of his touch.

“You’re going to get sick,” you whispered when he pulled back, his thumb swiping over your bottom lip.

He leaned in again, pressing another soft kiss to your lips, then one to your temple, his arms tightening around you as you buried your head in his chest. “I think I’ve spent enough time in your company to end up catching your germs anyway. At least I got to do that,” Harry murmured, smoothing a hand over your hair.

You stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, the movie forgotten. The world outside didn’t matter, the weight of how shitty you felt didn’t matter, the impending infection you’d passed to Harry didn’t matter. In the quiet shadows of the evening, you snuggled closer, feeling his heart beat steadily against you, and for the first time in a long while, you felt truly content.

“Stay with me?” you murmured, her voice barely audible.

“Of course,” he promised, his lips brushing over your hair.

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[itneverendshere]

lovee bartender!reader and rafe soo much, theyre daydream content fr!!! <3 if it takes your fancy, maybe a little piece where readers tired so she puts her pride away and does go to rafe for help (even if only for something very small) and hes just elated, ecstatic, all the words for it! that man is always so stressed, need him to have some peace LOL

she eventually becomes a little less headstrong about his help so this when she finally really understands that’s is okay to need someone else sometimes 🙂‍↕️🫂 thank you for the request! and also thank you for loving them too 🫶🏻

year dark night and now i see daylight - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

You wiped down the bar for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. 

The lights glinted off the glasses, making you squint. You were so tired. Your legs felt like they would give out at any moment, and the tension in your shoulders was making your neck ache, but there was no time to stop. 

There was never any time to stop.

You’d been running on fumes for days now—maybe weeks?—but who was counting? Not you, clearly. Because taking a break or slowing down?

That just wasn’t in your vocabulary. You were fine. You could handle it. You always handled it. You didn’t need help.

The headache you’d been ignoring was getting worse, though, creeping behind your eyes, making you blink more than usual. Your hands were shaky, and if you were being honest with yourself (which you rarely were these days), your body was running on empty. But still, there was work to do, and people needed drinks, and you weren’t about to let anyone think you couldn’t do your job.

You paused, gripping the edge of the bar a little tighter than necessary when the room seemed to tilt, just for a second. That was new. You sucked in a slow breath, trying to steady yourself. 

Nope. Not now. Can’t do this here. 

There was no way you were going to break down in the middle of your shift, in front of everyone. You’d tough it out like you always did.

“Hey!” Your co-worker voice cut through the pain, snapping you out of your thoughts. He was waving you over to another table where more customers had just sat down.

Perfect. More people. Just what you needed.

You forced your feet to move, pushing through the exhaustion as best you could. 

You felt that familiar wave of anxiety, your new best friend, but you shoved it down like always.

You could handle it. You had to. Because asking for help? Letting someone see you weren’t doing okay? That was never an option. Except…maybe this time, it was.

You hesitated behind the bar, staring blankly at the group that had just sat down. They could wait a minute, right? Just one minute to pull yourself together. You’d earned that, at least.

Before you knew it, your phone was in your hand, thumb hovering over one name in your contacts: Rafe.

You hated asking for help. He worried about you enough as it was, constantly telling you to slow down or take it easy. You usually brushed him off. But tonight…tonight felt different. You were running on nothing but pride and stubbornness at this point, and even that was starting to crack.

Swallowing hard, you hit Call.

It rang twice before you heard his voice. “Hey, baby, what’s up?” Rafe sounded surprised—probably because you never called him when you were working. You could hear the concern creeping in already.

You squeezed your eyes shut, hating how vulnerable you felt just by calling him. “Can you—uh, can you come pick me up? I’m kinda…done.”

There was a beat of silence on the other end, like he was processing the fact that you, of all people, were asking for help. When he spoke again, his voice was almost relieved. “Yeah, ‘course. I’ll be there in ten. Don’t move, okay?”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you, the tight knot in your chest loosening just a little.

Hanging up, you slumped against the counter, finally letting yourself breathe. Ten minutes. You could make it ten more minutes.

Rafe arrived faster than you expected, his tall frame pushing through the double doors of the club. His eyes locked onto you immediately, and the second he saw you, his tough guy expression dropped. You didn’t realize how close you were to falling apart until you saw the way he was looking at you. 

“You okay?” he asked, crossing the bar in a few quick strides, his hand already reaching for yours.

For once, you didn’t brush him off with a quick “I’m fine.” You just shook your head, letting out a shaky breath. “Not really.”

He didn’t say anything right away, just pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you in that way that made you feel safe, like it was okay to just not be strong for a second. You hadn’t noticed how badly you needed this—how badly you needed him—until now. Rafe’s chin rested against the top of your head, and you could feel his heart beating under your cheek.

When you finally pulled back, he didn’t let go right away, his blue eyes searching your face. His brow furrowed as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his thumb brushing softly along your cheek. You must’ve looked worse than you thought because the worry in his eyes was impossible to miss.

“You really weren’t kidding about being done, huh?” His voice was gentle, but you could hear the hint of frustration in it. Not at you, but at the fact that you’d been pushing yourself this hard without saying anything sooner.

You gave him a weak smile, trying to shrug it off. “Yeah, I guess I went a little overboard this week. But I’m fine now. You’re here.”

He sighed, shaking his head but pulling you closer again, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your lower back, “You’re gonna give me a heart-attack before thirty.”

You bit your lip, that familiar guilt settling in your chest. You knew he was right. You knew he worried all the time, every single day. But admitting you needed help—especially to him—took a lot of energy, like ripping away the last bit of control you had. And control was how you survived. How you kept everything in check.

He wasn’t going to think less of you for it. If anything, he looked elated that you’d let him in, that you trusted him enough to ask. You nodded, feeling the tears start to prick the back of your eyes. “I know. I just—” You broke off, not really knowing how to explain it. “I keep doing this. I’m sorry.”

“I got you,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head. “Let’s get you home.”

The quiet of the truck felt like a much-needed break from everything, the engine lulling you into something close to sleep. You hadn’t realized just how tense you were until now, with the night air coming through the window and Rafe’s hand resting on your thigh, his thumb tracing lazy circles against your skin.

You leaned your head back against the seat, watching the headlights of passing cars flash by. It felt weird to not be constantly thinking about what came next, what else needed to get done, or how much work you still had to finish. For once, it was like your brain was actually giving you a break, like it was saying, “Yeah, okay, you can relax now. You’re not alone.”

You glanced over at Rafe, his jaw set in concentration as he drove, but the way his fingers held onto you so gently told you everything. He hadn’t said much since you left the club, but you didn’t need him to.

“Are you hungry?” 

You blinked, realizing you hadn’t even thought about food. You weren’t really sure if you were hungry or just exhausted. “Not really,” you admitted. “I just wanna get home.”

Rafe nodded, giving your leg a gentle squeeze. “Okay. Almost there.”

You let out a breath, grateful that he didn’t push. He never did. It was one of the reasons being with him felt so easy, even when everything else in your life felt overwhelming. He never tried to fix things for you, never made you feel like you were weak for needing help. He just showed up—every time.

The minutes passed, and before you knew it, you were pulling up to his place. The sight of his house—your second home at this point—made your anxiety loosen even more. You didn’t have to do anything here. No one needed you to be “on.” You could just…exist.

“You good?” he asked, offering his hand to help you out.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you mumbled, though your body still felt like it might give out if you let yourself relax too much. You took his hand anyway, letting him help you down.

Once you were inside, you kicked off your shoes and practically collapsed onto the couch, feeling the cushions sink under you like they were the softest thing in the world. You pulled your knees up, wrapping your arms around them as Rafe moved around the room, grabbing a blanket and tossing it over you before sitting down next to you, close but not smothering.

He knew exactly how to handle you—how to be there without overwhelming you. He just sat there, his arm slung over the back of the couch, waiting for you to speak or not speak, whatever you needed. And that’s when it hit you how lucky you were to have him.

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, not really sure why the words came out, but feeling like you had to say something.

Rafe frowned, his hand brushing over your shoulder. “For what?”

“For… I don’t know. For not telling you sooner that I was struggling. For always acting like I can handle everything when I clearly can’t.”

He shook his head, giving you that soft smile that made you feel like the most important person in the world. “You don’t have to apologize for that, baby. I know you. You you don’t have to be perfect all the time.”

You bit your lip, “I just don’t want to feel like I’m dumping all my shit on you.”

Rafe leaned in a little closer, his hand now resting on your knee. “You’re not dumping anything on me. We’re in this together. I love you, and I want to be there for you. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, but this time it wasn’t from stress. It was from the realization that he was right.

He’d always been right and you knew it, it just took you months to process it.

You exhaled, leaning your head against his shoulder, “I love you too,” you whispered, the words feeling more powerful now, more real.

Because this wasn’t just love. This was trust.

He kissed the top of your head, his fingers gently running through your hair as he pulled you closer. He wasn’t frustrated or upset. He was just there, in that patient way that made you fall for him in the first place.

"You’re really too good to me, you know that?" you said softly, tracing your finger over the back of his hand.

He shook his head. “Nah, you deserve it. Besides, it’s not like you make it easy for me to help.”

He said it teasingly, but there was truth in his words. You knew you had a habit of trying to do everything on your own, shutting people out when you felt overwhelmed.

You looked down, feeling a little sheepish. "Yeah, I know. I’m working on it."

"Hey," he said, gently tilting your chin up so you were looking at him again. "I’m kidding. I’m here for you, okay?”

Your heart did that little flip thing it always did when he said stuff like that, like you couldn’t believe someone could love you that much, but at the same time, you knew it was true. 

“If I mess up again, just remind me that you said I don’t have to be perfect."

He chuckled, pulling you back into his arms. “You know, you’re probably gonna fall asleep on me right here.”

You smiled, your eyes already half-closed. “Maybe that’s the plan.”

You knew he was grinning without looking, feeling it he leaned down to kiss the top of your head again.

“Okay, but you’re definitely not getting out of taking care of yourself tomorrow. I’m making you pancakes in the morning. You’re eating, and you’re not gonna fight me on it.”

“Mmm, pancakes sound good,” you mumbled, already feeling the pull of sleep creeping in. “But only if you make the chocolate chip ones.”

“Deal.”

Wrapped up in his arms, the world outside of this little bubble didn’t feel so overwhelming anymore

[lostgirlmuseum]

Dancing Spies

Pairing: Bucky x gn!Reader 

Words: 900

Summary: You and Bucky are undercover at a ball and he’s not ready to let go of you.

Warnings: Reader is mentioned to have hair + height implied to be shorter than Bucky. Idc how tall you are, you're 6 feet? OK well in this universe Bucky is 7ft, etc lol. No use of y/n.

A/N: IM BACK BABY! Ok not really lmao this was 90% written since April 2022 (holy shit over a year before I even started posting here.) As always, sorry it’s short, sorry if it sucks, but also I’m not that sorry if it sucks because it’s short so it’s not like I’m wasting hours of your time. Idk if anyone is even going to read this.

Also: special thanks to @questionableratatouille00 for being so patient and kind to me. ❤️

divider cred: @saradika

“I didn’t realize you could dance,” you mumbled into his ear as you stepped in time to the soft music.

“Well, there wasn’t that much to do in the 30’s,” Bucky adjusted his grasp on your waist to be more comfortable, “with, y’know, the Great Depression and everything.”

“Ah, yes, a time of great prosperity, wasn’t it?”

“Definitely.” He gave a short chuckle, and continued to gaze around at the other couples dancing around him. He wasn’t avoiding your gaze—he was simply doing his job. At least, that’s what he tried to convince himself. 

A sweet chorus of piano and violin flew through the air, enchanting the large group of people into following in time. Despite his watchful eyes lingering upon the room for the past ten minutes, he couldn’t tell you any details.

How many couples were there? What was everyone wearing? How big was the dance hall? He could only guess, as his mind was solely focused on his steps, and the person in front of him: how close you stood next to him, how he could smell the faintest scent of lavender from your hair, how your hand sat so tenderly upon his shoulder, and how he wished he could take his gloves off so he could get a better feel of your gentle hand intertwined with his right. 

“How much longer, do you think?” you whispered.

“M’ not sure. Until Steve gives the signal, which could be anywhere from now to twenty minutes.” He only allowed himself a quick glance of you as he twirled you outward and back in.

“I doubt it’ll be twenty minutes. I think ten is more reasonable.” 

“It could be twenty,” he argued.

“That would be way too long, there’s too much risk in that.”

“Twenty minutes is fine. There’s nothing wrong with twenty minutes.”

Sensing you were looking at him, he met your gaze. 

Your eyebrow was slightly arched, and you gave him a small look of confusion at his strange… passion. Nevertheless, you dropped it, deciding not to question him.

He felt a slight tug of guilt at his heart for acting weird, but truthfully, he simply hoped this moment wouldn’t end. It felt right. He didn’t want to accept that it could be over so soon.

Naturally, as if the entire room was choreographed, everyone slowed as the song ended, and another started. This song was even slower than the last, and couples pulled each other close accordingly. 

You and Bucky did the same. 

Bucky’s breath hitched at the closer proximity, and he prayed you couldn’t feel his rapid heartbeat now that you were practically chest to chest, and both your arms were wrapped around his shoulders as his rested on your waist.

“Hey Bucky,” you said so quietly, it was barely a whisper.

“Yes?”

“I get that you’re trying to be alert, but you need to stop looking behind me. It’s not natural.” 

His cheeks flushed at your comment, though he wasn’t entirely sure why.

“Yeah, okay.” He hesitantly looked down and met your welcoming eyes.

“Better,” you softly smiled.

He curtly nodded.

They continued to slowly sway along with the music. But the tune only served as white noise for him as he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. Luckily, you hadn’t caught him staring, since you had placed your cheek onto his chest, nuzzling into the warmth. 

He liked that you felt safe with him. Safe enough to rest your head on him. Safe enough to let him hold you with both hands, and not cower at what those hands had once done. 

His shoulders relaxed at the sound of a soft sigh from your lips.

“Comfortable?” He leaned his head down slightly to whisper into your ear.

“Mhm.” You confirmed.

“Tired?” He breathily laughed, seeing your eyes closed.

“Only a little,” you mumbled, keeping your eyes shut. 

He was content with where he was. It wasn’t the most familiar feeling for him, but he liked it. 

His thoughts were no longer focused on the mission(not that they ever really were—the second he found out that the two of you were meant to be a couple dancing on the main floor, he was distracted by you and the possibilities of what would happen,) and he remained focused on you. Your soft and slowing exhales, the affection you spawned in his chest, and how beautiful your hair looked. 

Seeing you at peace, put him at peace.

He could feel himself smiling as he watched you. His tongue flicked over his lips like it always does when he’s about to make a decision. He started to lean his head down to rest on top of your head when he paused.

Is this a good idea?

Screw it.

He rested his chin ever so carefully on your head, and couldn’t hold back his growing smile when you made no effort to move.

“I wish this was real life,” you sighed. “No more fighting. Just dancing.”

Motion from above caught his attention. Steve tipped his hat—the signal. 

Bucky just looked back. He continued to sway with you, shielding you from the outside world with his chest. 

Steve, slightly taken aback at his friend’s lack of action, tipped his hat twice more.

Bucky subtly shook his head and returned his gaze to you.

“Have we gotten the signal yet?” You murmured, eyes still closed.

“Not yet,” he whispered. “Let’s just dance.”

If you liked it pls let me know so I know I'm not just screaming into the void.

photo credit

[psychohoneywhiskey]

Alright hear me out!

Logan (worst Wolverine) staying with Wade after the time ripper but thinking about how to run away and disappear while Wade tries anything to make the man comfortable enough for him to stay. Some shit happens and original old man Logan is still around, the stuff about the Logan movie is about to happen so Wade and worst Logan join the X-men to stop it. Some past worst Logan/Scott (in his universe) so when he sees Scott again he gets some feelings for him or at least he thinks so. Wade confesses to Logan and he rejects him for Scott (but he really is in love with Wade) and Wade just accepts it because of his insecurities. They go looking for original Logan and Wade flirts with him (of course) and original Logan flirts back HARD while worst Logan gets fucking jealous about it.

I'll give my soul if anyone could write something like that! Also I'm not a writer so ignore the mess in the plot, I just needed to get it out of my system lol

Not sure how it will work out though bc the timelines are a mess but yeah

[luludeluluramblings]

Hi so I was having some brainrot regarding your small-town-neglected-meta reader and I wanted to share them with you!

One thing I've been thinking about alot is the way readers powers work and what kinds of weather they're likely to create, etc. One thing I specifically thought about is that readers powers definitely have to come from her mom's side. Bruce and no else in Bruce's biological line have powers so readers mom has to have the meta gene. I was thinking that maybe readers mom also controlled the weather a bit, maybe not as strong as reader can but still had some powers.

Like creating little drizzles, maybe some dustdevils, and little snow storms. Because her powers were so weak she never really used them for much, maybe to help out her own parents on the farm but that's about it(using her rain powers to easily water the crops)

In that same line of thinking I also wondered if readers little brother also has superpowers. Maybe the way his powers work or appear are bit different than readers because of they have different dads(I imagine Bruce has really strong genetics. If Damian is any proof of that lol)

One little crank in this little headcanon though is that Nana and Gramps would also have to have superpowers. But then I reread the first chapter and thought about One of the phrases you used to describe how reader got in Bruce's hands.

"but blood is thicker than water in the eyes of the court."

That specifically makes me think that Nana and Gramps are actually readers little brother biological grandparents and not theirs.(what happened to their bio grandparents 🤔)

But anyway, one last thing I wanted mention is how badly I want to see reader using their powers more freely when they're back in small town. Like they aren't afraid to use their powers to make it super windy and have fun with their little brother up on the sky. Or causing a blizzard just so they can have a snowball fight and make snow-men with their little brother. Or even accidently cause a power outage because someone pissed them off! No more suppressed emotions just freedom. (Also reader crying in the middle of the rain they made in front of their parents graves(they wanted to be buried in their hometown) would be so tragically fantasic.)

Anyway I know this is a lot to read and I'm sorry if I seem a bit scrambled but I wanted to send this to you just cause I had so many ideas floating up in my brain I couldn't stop thinking about it all. Thank you for listening to me ramble, I hope your doing amazing🩷

Your call this bain-rot, Imma call it fertilizer. This is long as mess, but I think I addressed everything. Lots of Smalltown!Reader lore and I made a Family Tree to help explain if needed.

☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎

Smalltown!Reader's Family Tree:

Complicated little bugger, ain't it? I didn't add Stephanie or Barbara because Bruce technically never adopted them or fostered them. This isn't an official thing, I made this and it was composed of little bits of information I found online. So some of this stuff might not be lore accurate.

Also, while I was researching I found out that Bruce's middle name was apparently Patrick, after his grandfather at one point.

Now, time for the pseudo science.

I consider the meta gene to be a genetic trait carried down by a parent. That would be Momma/Adeline, in this case. She carries the gene. Now, the meta gene does not always activate even if one has it. So, no, Momma was not making mini storms for us. She was, however, very encouraging of Reader using their abilities. It takes an event, usually a traumatic one, to activate the gene. (Little Brother could be getting power's in the next chapter, though.)

As for Nana and Grand Daddy we have this:

They don't have the gene, so they don't have abilities. (Which doesn't me their harmless.) They are Reader's Step-Grandparents, but they've grown to love them all the same. Now, in court, it is preferred for a child to go to the nearest blood relative after their parents die. Or, at least, that's what I roughly know from what the court in my state is like. I'm not from Louisiana or New Jersey, where Gotham's located, so maybe it's different. But, this is fiction. This is why Nana and Grand Daddy didn't get custody of Reader, though. Plus Bruce is rich with a bunch of adopted kids, on paper he looks like the best option.

☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎

I really love the thought of Reader using their abilities for silly little things while back in Smalltown, at least before things absolutely go to hell in a hand basket. So I'll probably include a bit. (They used to do things like that before moving to Gotham, definitely.) Something I want to mention is that Reader likes to make it rain when their happy. It's their favorite weather, they love it. So a grave scene might be a bit different. (I have to include that now. Thank you for that idea! Frick, Part Eight about to be long af.)

☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎

If your curious about Reader's other grandparents, they just died from old age and health problems. I like to think that Reader had a close relationship with them. Calling them MawMaw and Gab for their nicknames and having spent a lot of time with Reader and their Little Brother before they died. (I'm sorely tempted to just commit to rewriting this with the OC I based Reader off of so I can include all this backstory to highlight how different their life in Gotham is compared to what it used to be, but I best finish what I started first.)

(Side Note: It's very common in the American south for people to give their grandparents nicknames. I have some for my southern grandparents, while I call my northern grandparents just plain Grandma and Grandpa. The nickname can vary and is usually what ever the first grandchild comes up with.)

Thank you for sending me this ask! Stuff like this actually inspires me so this was wonderful. Hopefully this helps. (Now to get back to work on my writing, I've been draggin' my feet again.)

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Idk if you ever did an ask like this but I thought it was kinda cute

SO and skelly went out for ice cream, someone then bumped into skelly (or something startled them) and made their ice cream drop. SO, being a great datemate, offers them their ice cream instead. Reactions?

Undertale Sans - Aw. Nah, he gives it back to you. He's not a big fan of ice cream in the first place. He appreciates the gesture though. Just walking with you is already enough for his happiness.

Undertale Papyrus - Nonsense! You're not the one who makes the ice cream fall, it's that random person and he's going to explain the situation to the ice cream seller to have a new one. There's no way he's stealing your ice cream.

Underswap Sans - He's embarrassed and gives the ice cream back to you. He's not a big fan of sugary food in the first place. He's still salty about the money he lost though! Ice creams are expensive in this part of the town and he's so mad he didn't get to eat it. He hopes he won't see that guy again because he might tell them what he thinks of that.

Underswap Papyrus - Oh :( Honey looks at the ice cream on the floor, sad. It's probably his fault, he's too clumsy. He's happy when you propose your ice cream but insists you share it. You paid for that, he doesn't want to ruin your fun. He still calls you his hero though.

Underfell Sans - He doesn't hear you, he's too pissed off by what just happened. Red is going to drag the poor guy to the ice cream stand and make them pay for a second ice cream. You stare from a distance, wondering if you should intervene or let him have his moment of glory as he gets what he wants eventually.

Underfell Papyrus - "NO, THAT'S OK. I WAS TOLD A VERY YOUNG AGE THAT GOOD THINGS NEVER LAST LONG IN THIS PATHETIC WORLD." Ok, wow, now you're very concerned and insist he gets your ice cream even more. Edge is very dramatic about it, but eventually accepts to share yours very reluctantly. You swear he's going to be your end someday.

Horrortale Sans - He stares at you with wide eyes. No, he can't do that! That's your food! What if you starve? You still insist he has it. Oak is very touched and ends up taking it like it's the rarest treasure he ever held. He still buys you a gigantic one later that day because the thought you might be starving still stays in his head. And he doesn't want that.

Horrortale Papyrus - What? No! Keep it, it's yours. He always has random things to eat in his pockets, you need your ice cream more than him. You're a bit concerned if he's having a traumatic episode or not as he seems to confuse a bit the Underground and the real world suddenly. You force him to sit for a bit and go to buy another ice cream so you don't stress him more. He's VERY thankful for that.

Swapfell Sans - No. He's grumpy and salty so he's going to be a pain in the butt and says no to everything. He's pouting, and despite being a literal millionaire, you're the one who goes to pay him another ice cream so he stops acting like a child. He wants to refuse it at first, just because, but you give him the big angry eyes and he ends up accepting it. He won't stop criticizing the taste though lol, just to be annoying.

Swapfell Papyrus - What? No! He could never take that ice cream from you. But that's fine because you know what else he has? A brother holding another ice cream. Nox growls at him, protecting his ice cream, but then Rus says that surely Nox wouldn't want Alphys to know the general of the royal guard can throw temper tantrums over ice creams, think of his reputation! Rus ends up having his ice cream, Nox is a jerk with you for the rest of the week despite all of this not being your fault at all. Only Rus is happy in this story.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He gives you a look of pure disdain. What do you think? That he needs your pity? He huffs, continues to walk and completely ignores you. He has his pride, but it's hard to take him seriously with that huge chocolate stain on his white shirt honestly. You prefer not to mention that, you have a feeling he's not going to like it.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - You got a bit scared he might actually lick the ice cream from the floor. Coffee's eyes shine as you give him your ice cream. Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you! He tackles you for a hug. Your ice cream crashes on the floor because of the hug. ... Ah.

[bigfatbimbo]

Hey there! @hazbinhotelmollykisser here yet again, with the promised bill rambles :)

Forgive me if the following words sound like nonsense, I'm trying lol

SO. I'll be covering the bill with a more powerful reader and sub bill because your works have changed my brain chemistry, masochist bill because I'M GOING INSANE AN I NEED TO BE SEDATED, and bill with a reader that likes to tease him (with a more powerful reader version and a just a human version) because I need to study his reactions to teasing like I'm Stanford studying like... Science + math = triangles or something.

・Bill x More powerful reader

So I actually made an entire oc for this literally as soon as I finished reading the og post, which I will refrain on ranting abt, but the idea of a reader that's more powerful than bill is fascinating to me.

Because like, he's bill so he's obviously gonna try to get under your skin, but imagine a reader that sees his attempts to annoy them and just... Like laughs? A reader that finds his attempts almost endearing? Reverting whatever bill did back to before with just a snap and maybe a passing comment about his mischief.

It would drive him mad I think, he'd be rlly annoyed and pissy about it.

Or alternatively, a reader that does get angry when he tries to annoy them, (a loud and aggressive angry or a quiet festering angry both yielding different reactions from bill) and Bill takes it as motivation to keep annoying you (and it's definitely only because he thinks it's funny and totally definitely no other reason).

(Holy shit this is already getting long)

・Sub!Bill

So obviously a brat right? Like very obviously? We all agree on that.

And this next bit will probably just be regurgitating your points because I can't stop having the same opinions as you,

I personally need to see any + every version of bill cipher getting taken down a peg. Like I need to just. Ruin his life a little. Like I need to cause him mental peril and make it up to him (but actually it's only for me) by making him beg for what he wants and not giving him anything unless he asks out loud because "well I'm not a mind reader" (more powerful reader probably IS but shhhh..)

I want him to cry and beg (as do most people who read your blog honestly)

・masochist bill

Thinking about the way that bill literally talks about going out of his way to inflict pain onto the bodies he "possesses" (? Idk if that's the word I should use) made me think. Like too much thinking too many thoughts, to the point that I at multiple points almost wrote a small drabble in my notes app about it. (I would've if I could think of any words to write down when I need them 😭)

But like he's definitely some kind masochist right?

I can't think of any scenarios for human reader he made a deal with and bill for this category but imagine with me pls, a HUMAN reader, that he made a deal with (is actively trying to manipulate), causing him PAIN somehow (directly or indirectly), and he... DOSENT MIND? because 1. He's gonna have a mental breakdown because of it probably, and 2. He dosent JUST not mind. It's like EXCITING but not normal exciting.

So basically he'd be freaking out.

And with a reader that's more powerful than him? I think it'd be clear as day. Going hand in hand with the angry reader that's more powerful than him thing above, he would absolutely get off on annoying them until they snap at him (specifically the snap at him part). And when reader notices, they're obviously gonna make fun of him because hes being pathetic lol.

I think I have run out of masochist bill words now so onto the next topic.

・tease reader (human) x bill

My main reason for bringing this up is I love the idea of the powerful bill cipher being.. Well, flustered.

Like maybe when it's triangle form bill its easier to hide for him but if it were human bill reader would be able to tell almost instantly probably.

And more opportunities to make fun of bill for being a pathetic little creature are always good :)

・tease reader (more powerful) x bill

OOWOWHEOEJEIEBSJBSISNDH I love this idea so so SO SO SOSOSOSO MUCH!!!3&:28&:9.

SO MANY MORE OPPORTUNITIES TO TEASE AND NOT GET KILLED :)

Like imagine with me, your teasing bill and he gets all "upset" and probably threatens you, you don't gotta back off, you infact can tease him even more for thinking that he can threaten you. Shheheheheheheh.

I think that's all my words, I seem to have run out.

I hope that big lump of nothing text (800-ish words 😰) was enough to make up for my sudden dissapearence after promising to talk about bill TWO WEEKS AGO

Forgive my probably dogshit spelling and grammar pls

and hope you have a good day/night/whatever!

IUAHAHSHSHSHSHHSHDHSHAHS I LOVE THINGS LIKE THIS IN MY INBOX!!!!! Because it’s like wow, you did all the work for me! 😊

Ugh, this is so good tho. I always love to hear your thoughts, you are one of my FAV anons!!!!!

[lowkeyrobin]

hi! how are u???

i was wondering if you could do mcyt x reader where they go to an amusement park? i don't realky know the specifics :P

it's totally fine if not!

also, could i please be 🦑 anon?

your writing is so good, btw :3

ooo okay I can try! ; and welcome 🦑! (I'm gonna consistently think this is an umbrella academy fan goodnight 💀) hope you enjoy your stay! ; and thank you, I appreciate it! <3

MCYT ; amusement park

includes ; tommyinnit, badlinu, maxggs, quackity & slimecicle

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; idk anything about amusement parks outside kennywood and disneyworld so probably using references and names here / may be mixed up cause I don't remember all the different places / pretend like it's in Europe for tommy, freddie & max and in america for Charlie & Quackity

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

he's so fuckin scared of the rides with insane heights that go really fast

soooo many pictures

he will NOT be going on them unless it's to impress you (shout out university crush)

if there's any water rides he's forcing you on them 🗣🗣

he buys any snacks/food or little souvenirs you want lol

you both go home tired and lowkey sleep on the train and almost miss ur stop

you're probably vlogging too

"guys, Tommy's scared of the phantom"

"look at that fuckin thing! I'm not going on that, ill fly out!"

"true, you're a six foot twig"

"I swear to god, y/n..."

FREDDIE BADLINU

he's getting on most rides w you

he loves the swings lmao

you got a handful of pics but you're mostly living in the moment

dippin dots go crazy

you go on the little kids rides for shits and giggles and adults are looking at u like 🤨😒

yk on that Winnie the Pooh ride line there's the screens and it's like honey and u can draw on it temporarily? yall stood there for a solid 10 mins cause the long line drawing dicks and random stuff

ice cream!!!! it's so good

you make a tiktok

"wheres harry potter land??"

"....y/n were at disneyworld"

it's your mission to piss of Disney adults

MAXGGS

literally up for anything

he got you both silly sunglasses and you wore them around all day

you literally go on Kalis River Rapids twice because why not

you SPRINT for Tianas Bayou Adventure (I wanna go so bad to see this omfg)

he makes you re-ride the barnstormer like 5 times (me core)

you immediately go for the fast paced / thrilling rides like space mountain and tower of terror (ik these are different just pretend I can't remember many rides...)

then at the end of the day you do the safari ride / avatar ride / ykwim

so many cute pics and videos 💔 literally spammed ur Instagrams when u got back

ALEX QUACKITY

he does not wanna go on things like space mountain or thunder mountain bro

you make him get on them anyway unless he just genuinley doesn't want to, you'll go with a friend if there is another person with you / alone and he'll wait / vlog from a safe spot

you meet a lot of characters and get pics all day long & they were so nice 💔

"OMG Y/N ITS OLAF"

he nearly vomits after the teacups...

you go on the pirates of the caribbean ride and he tries to speak like sparrow the whole time in line

you get some little leather bracelets with each other's names on them at the end in the little store (I had one but idk where it is anymore I'm so mad)

he keeps saying "I'm not hungry" ans when u stop for food he literallt devours his ice cream and hot dog bro

"I thought u weren't hungry???"

"... I was waiting for u to want food"

CHARLIE SLIMECICLE

literally the funnest ever

he's getting on everything istg

yall chill in the swiss family tree house when u need a break from walking / grab a drink and go to the enchanted tiki room to escape the heat entirely

over food you speculate what they may add for the little villain land they're planning (holy shit so excited for this even tho I'm probably never gonna be able to go again)

haunted mansion went crazy 💀 trust the vlog is funny asf

"woahhh that ghost looks like me!"

"yeah if you were dead"

"wanna go to mickeys philharmagic after this?"

"that's across the park.."

"we can make it lol"

he's on it with the puns idek how

u want a souvenir of any kind? he's got u trust

[armandposting]

Thoughts on madeleine saying louis is afraid to say he loves armand even though we’ve seen him say it on screen previously? Ive seen people saying its bc the love madeleine was sensing was actually for lestat bc he was on louis mind and that’s fine ig but… personally I think its MORE interesting if louis could only say it to armand before bc he didnt mean it before. But now he really is falling in love with armand and he cant say it (he cant tell *anyone* he loves them bc those are the last words he said to paul). This makes is sooooo much more tragic tho bc armand sold louis/claudia/madeleine out bc he started to doubt louis’s love and im just afhwkdkwkd i need to know ur thoughts on this one

yeah I think the idea that madeleine was picking up on his love for lestat is fucking stupid lol. she specifically says she can feel armand through louis. we've seem louis say he loves armand but we've also seen him being visibly less sincere about it than armand is so I think how you've described it is pretty much exactly what's going on. like I don't know what would be the point of having that scene overlap with the kidnapping if the point weren't to be that armand is only just now, when it's too late, getting confirmation that louis loves him. and he still can't trust that enough to stop what's happening. that's part of the tragedy.

[jinxed-thylacine]

I didn't realize how much people fundamentally misunderstand Eggman and Sonic both as characters and as a pair until now tbh.

No, Phantom Rider Sonic is not out of character for Sonic nor for Eggman. Let's look at right before Sonic accepted the Eggstreme Gear.

Going undercover is implied to be incredibly beneficial to Sonic, Tails, and Amy's plan, something Eggman agrees with:

Eggman took a sabbatical after Eggperial City was destroyed, then came across Orbot and Cubot watching the Clean Sweepstakes opening ceremony, and didn't like that he was being mocked:

He was at least happy to see Sonic and the Babylon Rogues squabble, but then Sonic got disqualified (which Eggman claims he hated because humiliating Sonic is his job), which gave Eggman an idea:

Since Sonic was indirectly responsible for Eggman's inspiration coming back, he felt like repaying him in some way:

And throughout the arc, Eggman is shown to have been honest about this (unless something happens in issue 74/issue 75). This scene from issue 69 sets up mutual benefit; Sonic can more easily create a diversion because he's disguised, Tails and Amy can more easily sneak onto the shuttle, and Eggman repays Sonic for getting him his creative drive back and also gets to watch the chaos that unfolds as Sonic disrupts the event as the Phantom Rider, which he wanted to do before Sonic, Tails, and Amy were disqualified (and Eggman gets to watch the event that mocked him get disrupted).

Sonic causing trouble on purpose for the benefit of the greater good isn't out of character, he just isn't usually so chaotic about it, nor that intentioned about causing chaos, because what he's doing doesn't require a chaotic course of action. He does it in Sonic Adventure 2 to some degree (this is made most clear, in my opinion, in the recaps before each level) and he literally tells Merlina in Sonic and the Black Knight "Guess I can't be the hero every time!" after being told "If you remove that sword and defeat King Arthur with it, you shall forever be the worst of knights, slayer of kings!" and proceeds to fight the Knights of the Round Table and King Arthur. That's just in the games, if we factored other media into this there's a lot more I could cover.

Now, to be fair, that tends to not backfire on him as bad as it could. In Sonic X, when he's destroying Eggman's mirror towers, everyone eventually realizes that Sonic is doing it for the benefit of everyone else; he doesn't care about that though. In Sonic and the Black Knight, once Merlina admits she was essentially scamming Avalon, Lancelot, Percival, and Gawain team up with him to stop her. In Sonic Adventure 2, Sonic's already a fugitive, so him causing some level of chaos to clear his name isn't something that really affects public perception of him.

In the comics, specifically the Phantom Rider arc, it does backfire on him once he's revealed to be the Phantom Rider, and there's some indication in issue 76's solicitation that there are going to be long-term effects in regards to Sonic being the Phantom Rider, meaning this would be the first time Sonic feels long-term effects for playing the villain (I'm actually surprised it took this long but whatever lol). The aftershocks might not be as bad once Clean Sweep is revealed to be untrustworthy, but there are still likely going to be some trust issues within Sonic's friend circle, which will be the worst ramifications we've seen from Sonic's chaotic good antics thus far.

Sonic is not against working with Eggman if there's a level of mutual benefit in it, and usually it happens because of some potentially world-ending catastrophe (Sonic Adventure 2, Sonic X, Sonic Heroes, Sonic 06, Sonic Frontiers). I actually think Jimbotnik sums this up best; "If I can't rule the world, I might as well save it!" However, Eggman is not above teaming up with Sonic if, from his perspective, the need arises, even if the world isn't about to end. If there's even a shred of mutual benefit, they are willing to work together. The Phantom Rider arc just has an example of them teaming up for, on Eggman's end, petty reasons.

Eggman's not above teaming up with Sonic if there's mutual benefit and Sonic's not above playing a villain for the benefit of the greater good. Phantom Rider arc is not out of character for either of them.

[missredherring]

An Escape Rope Tied Around My Neck

Maxwell Lord/Odin ft. Max Phillips/Loki

Rating: PG

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: angst. Mentions of blood.

Summary: A wish… what is a wish if not a desperate plea for the unobtainable?

A/N: This is my offering for @perotovar's Frith Challenge! I have a lot of feelings about Norse Mythology and Maxwell Lord, so figuring out how to combine them was a lot of fun to noodle over.

It's a personal belief that the events of Norse Mythology aren't linear and are happening all at once and not at all. You know, in a timey-wimey way. (A little bit of UPG for you, lol.) I've written it as such in this piece, and those moments are italicized. I hope it's not too confusing.

Not beta read. All mistakes are my own.

“Are you sure you don’t need me for anything else tonight, Mr. Lord?” Raquel asks. Her tone is genuinely sincere and without any flirtatious undertones like his last two secretaries had when they’d asked him that same question. Raquel wants to do her job and do it well. He likes that about her. 

The room is crammed with every knick-knack and trinket that he’d seen splashed across the pages of the business magazines. The intention had been to spread them around the larger work spaces in the building, to decorate with the trappings of a successful business in hopes of luring in more clients to keep playing this little game he’s passing the time with, but then the search for the Dreamstone had ended much quicker than he’d anticipated. 

“Yes, thank you, Raquel. Don’t worry about me and go home; I’ve kept you late enough,” Maxwell says and shoos her out of the office.

He watches her, listening to how her heels echo in the empty workspace and then the hum of the elevator as it takes her away. A few minutes later there’s the sound of a car pulling away. Only then does Maxwell close his office door and take a seat behind his desk. 

The stone sits like the prized heart of a hunted down stag in the middle of his desk, resting on top of the scattered academic papers, journals, and notebooks that made up the research material he’d been using to find it. 

It’s almost disappointing.

A couple of lamps on the desk illuminate the room, casting warm light on the stone and turning its color a more dark amber than the fresh honey hue it’d had when he’d snuck a peak through the packaging in the daylight. 

The Dreamstone is different than all the shiny, pristine, and ultimately useless trinkets in the room. It has potential. It could be an escape rope. Or at least a way to smooth the path to Ragnarok.

Eye intent, Odin reaches for it but pauses just before touching the smooth facet of the largest crystal point. There’s a noise in the room, a weight shifting on the cushions of the nearby couch. Magic beckons just out of reach, making his fingertips buzz and tingle with the urge to touch, but he stills.

“Please tell me you’re doing something interesting,” Loki says as he rests his head on the back of the couch. 

There, cast in a perfect balance of light and shadows, sits Loki. Fiery hair in disarray around his shoulder and eyes glittering in the low lighting as he sprawls on the couch. The bond between them pulses: warm, strong, and intact.

His chest aches with the foreknowledge of how it will twist and knot in the future.  

Odin wants to bring Loki into his plans, as he has a sharp mind that loves to think outside of the realm of possibilities, but another part stops him. The part that grows louder by the day and warns of wolf teeth and serpent scales and living dead flesh. 

“Just a curiosity that caught my eye,” Odin replies, covering the desperate need that’s been gnawing at him with nonchalance. 

He picks up the stone and examines it, taking in the weight and texture of the crystal cluster. There’s magic at its core, he’d sensed it before, but now it rises to meet his own. Darker, bitter, and more acidic like bile: eating through whatever holds it for too long. Pulsing, it tastes him and he bites back, a reprimand and reminder to know it’s place. Around the base of the cluster is a metal ring, aged from time and rough handling, inscribed is an old language, but not as old as his, he notes. He traces a finger over the letters but catches on a singular word. 

“Place upon the object held but one great…”

Desire? Want? Hope? Dream? All options but none that feels right. 

He turns the stone this way and that, but even bringing a lamp closer sheds no light of understanding on it. Sighing, Odin looks to where Loki has started wandering around the room, touching everything. 

“Be useful and take a look at this.” 

Loki saunters over, curious, and takes the stone, tossing it from hand to hand before rolling it along his palm. He squints, bringing the stone closer to his face and then licks the last word, his tongue contracting into a point to dip into the grooves.

Odin grumbles and rolls his eyes, the action making the severed muscles in the empty socket ache as he doesn't want to close his eyes and miss a moment of the children playing in the field outside the hall. As the blood rushes to his head, pooling and throbbing there as he hangs from the tree. As he plucks out the eyeball, Mimir’s chosen currency. 

There is no hiding the truth from Loki's silver tongue. He rolls it around in his mouth, teasing it out, and then pronounces: “Wish.” He spits it out onto the carpet and sneers. “Looks like it’s the work of an Olympian’s clumsy hand.” 

Loki passes it back and dusts his hands off to dispel the sticky residue of the stone’s magic. Task finished, he returns to his circuit of the room.

Odin sets it on the desk and leans back to regard it.

“Place upon the object held but one great wish.”

A wish… what is a wish if not a desperate plea for the unobtainable? 

Ragnarok. 

It is a fool’s wish that Ragnarok will stop it’s steady march onward. 

Deep in whatever approximates a god's soul he knows it's coming, it needs to happen, it will happen. 

A forest devoured by fire makes way for new, stronger growth in its place.

If a single wish could save them the fear and pain in favor of a kinder end? 

But when that forest is home to all he holds dear? His family. The people of his community. The mortals who still pray in his name and honor him in their actions.

All those who will look to him when the wolf finally catches its prey and plunges them into darkness. 

There is potential here and all he has to do is coax it to its greatest yield. 

A thrum of delight slides along the bond and Odin brings his focus back to the office to find Loki admiring a gaudy gold ring on his finger that had been on a display with that year’s latest watch model. 

He blinks again to clear his sight fully because Loki has changed. A broad frame dressed in a tailored suit, its design different from the one Odin is currently wearing. His jewel eyes have darkened to be almost black in the room’s shadows. His hair, now short and dark, is neatly combed and styled and yet still caught up in the chaos of his movement. 

They look like they’re brothers who once shared a womb instead of a chosen bond.

Odin’s lips twitch. “You could’ve picked something else,” he says and watches as Max gives him a toothy grin.

“Haven’t you heard that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery?” He lifts a shoulder. “Plus this’ll work better for my own plans.”

Odin opens his mouth to say he doesn’t want to know, but a shiver of premonition rolls through his body, raising the hair on his arms and the back of his neck.

He motions and Max kneels at his feet, curiosity burning in every line of his body. Odin cups Max’s jaw and squeezes gently, drawing it open to allow his thumb room to enter Max’s mouth. 

“Come,” he orders in the voice of a leader responsible for many and while Max’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline, he obeys without question.

How many people will obey him to their deaths? 

He presses down on a sharp, too sharp, canine until blood wells up and beads. Turning it, he presses the pad onto the hot, soft muscle of Max’s tongue, forming the runes as they offer themselves for use. 

Uruz, Ansuz, Isa, Algiz, Algiz, Algiz, Algiz.

The bindrune complete, Odin releases him and allows Max to sit back on his heels as he puzzles over the magic. Maybe the mystery will be enough to curb some of his mischief. Another fool’s wish. 

Rippling, Max fades and Loki watches him with a relaxed face, she’s glowing in the midst of her pregnancy. He’s sparkling with mischief and humor, scarred lips stretching wide. Their face is burned and marled and eyes unseeing in the hard light outside of the cave, left blank after finally being consumed by the spark of their nature. It is not in fire’s nature to be merciful. 

Max swallows and stands. “Interesting. I’ll leave you here,” he tugs his waistcoat into place and smooths the lines of his jacket. “Wish me luck.”

The Dreamstone pulses on the desk in front of them. 

Max is gone and Odin is alone with the stone again, it’s cloying influence reaching and coaxing.

Wish, wish, wish.

URUZ symbolizes Strength, Tenacity, Courage, Untamed Potential, Freedom.  ANSUZ symbolizes the Mouth, Communication, Understanding, Inspiration. ISA Clarity, Stasis, Challenges, Introspection, Watching & Waiting.  ALGIZ symbolizes Protection, Defense, Instinct, Group Effort, Guardianship.

[nightfury-2001]

Trying to track down as many interviews/behind the scenes things for THW that I can so I can easily check or link to things and MAN. I forgot how upsetting some of these quotes are.

Like I sure do love to see Dean call Toothless "corrupted" in like four different interviews. Love to see him constantly misuse terms like "domesticated". Love to read how that for the Light Fury, this supposed wild pure untainted fierce powerful feral call of the wild wild animal, the sound designers had to "suggest she was female" and so leaned on stereotypes. Love to read that Toothless "kinda forgot" about his former life after only ten years. Love to read that Astrid is meant to be Hiccup's "true support and future". Love to read basically anything regarding the Light Fury and see the filmmakers talk about how she's a female and needs to look like a female and move like a female and act like a female and sound like a female. Love to read how she couldn't look too reptilian despite literally being a dragon and that she couldn't have leopard markings because they looked a little too close to scars. Love to read how she "promises a family and the propagation of Toothless' species" when she's not even actually a Night Fury. Love to read how it was intended that Toothless' "animal instincts"/attraction to the Light Fury become more important to him than his friendship with Hiccup. Love to read how they purposefully changed Valka's design to make her "more appealing". Love to read how one of the functions the Light Fury is supposed to serve is to be "a clarion reminder that wild dragons will attack a human when they see them" like that makes any sense at all to anyone who has seen literally any other piece of HTTYD media. Love to read how the other function she's supposed to serve is to show "that when you find love, that's where you belong" like Hiccup's platonic/brotherly love for Toothless meant nothing when on the official website they're referred to as soulmates. Love to read that the reunion scene is meant to be a "last joyride" and "not an indication that they see each other again".

I hate this movie.

[icewindandboringhorror]

On average, what is the total MONTHLY amount that you spend on dining out*?

*(This doesn't only count going out to restaurants, but also stuff like picking up fast food to bring home, getting a coffee on the way to work, getting a premade sandwich from a grocery store deli during lunch, buying a quick snack from a convenience store or food cart whilst walking somewhere, ordering a pizza or any other food to be delivered to your home, etc.)

*(If you often dine out in groups/as a household: calculate and divide the costs so that you get a Per Person average. This is for YOU individually, NOT the total household/group costs)

(I'm sure polls similar to this have been made before (very common topic), I just haven't personally seen one that I can remember, so, I was curious to do my own! I was discussing this with a group of people today and it was very interesting to see how widely the number varied between individuals. :0c )

(Reblog for bigger sample size if you can, and feel free to explain your answer in tags if there's anything extra to add!)

[natalieleif]

I know Jack and Maddie's relationship in canon is probably MEANT to be seen--depending on the episode--as a pretty bog-standard, 2000s-era "idiot big dad and exasperated, smart wife who puts up with him" trope.

BUT

my personal favorite interpretation is that BOTH are equally genius engineers who are also equally on the autistic spectrum, with a specific hyperfixation on ghosts and mad science.

The main difference is that Maddie has siblings and female social expectations, so she had to learn how to mask in ways that are seen as sociable and polite and attractive and "smart." When she does bumble major social cues (such as not recognizing Vlad's flirting until Danny points it out decades later, or humiliating her kids by showing up in a hazmat suit at school), it feels more "socially acceptable" from her.

She genuinely loves Jack because he could not care less about her being Feminine or Socially Acceptable. He just wants to shout with her about ghosts! So the nanosecond she's around him she can yank the mask off and go chasing spirits with a toaster turned into a machine gun.

[cobaltfluff]

happy april fools' from your big brothers, dumbass (affectionate)

[robo-dino-puppy]

horizon forbidden west | aloy 138/?