#i love how you draw all of them. so fucking much

[elatedfool]

somnophilia (with or without consent you choose) with aventurine or sunday...

alright 👍🏻 i'm going with aventurine for this one, since his banner is tmrw yippee :3 may all avennie wanters become avennie havers ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

nsfw, consensual somnophilia, afab!reader, reader wears nightgown, fingering, spooning fucking (i have no idea what it's called (u_u)), established relationship, petnames used: darling, baby, sweetheart, little bunny.

"...my love?"

rubbing his tired eyes to prevent them from closing, aventurine enters your shared house together—only to find you asleep on the couch, filling the otherwise quiet living room with the soft rumble of your snores.

his lips slowly curl up to form a faint smile, little hearts dancing across his beautiful pupils as he steps closer to you, getting a good look at the way the silk gown highlights your curves—all the stress he accumulated from working instantly disappears into thin air the moment he came home to this, like something served only for him in a silver platter.

"you'll catch a cold..." he sighs, stepping closer to take you back inside your shared bedroom—while his eyes gawk at your body, glancing at your chest and legs, before he looks away and try not to act on his desire; you have said that it is fine for him to relief his stress by using you, even in an unconscious state—still, he'd rather not disturb your beauty sleep. slowly, he places you down on to the mattress and kissed your forehead, wishing you a good night's sleep before he stood up, attempting to leave and change his clothes first.

that is, until you decided to roll over, causing your dress to hikes up your thighs, revealing the skimpy and lacy panties underneath—aeons, how could you possibly be any more alluring? he wouldn't be able to hold back himself if this persists.

aventurine gently pushes the silky fabric further up, finally caving in, "'m sorry..." he murmurs, his gloved fingers slowly making their way inside your puffy folds, stimulating the sensitive nerves and getting surprised when he hears the squelching noises, already so loud when he barely does anything—he's starting to suspect that you may have been thinking of him a lot... probably not in an innocent way too (neither did he).

"are you dreaming of me, baby?" his lips curl up to form a small smirk, pumping his digits in and out of you faster, drawing out that little whines of yours that he loves so much, taking them as a sign to continue. he knew very well how skilled his fingers are, after all.

and continue, he did—laying down right behind you, slotting his erection between your thighs as the blunt head slowly slides into your tight little pussy, sucking him in so nicely as if this is the last time you can feel it. you're still so responsive, he thinks, groaning whenever you unconsciously push your ass against him, meeting his thrust while also arching your back.

the blond man tries to be as quiet as possible, burying his face into your nape and trailing kisses down your back with his arms settled on your hips to help him reach deeper and deeper, until his tip finally touches that one gummy spot—one that always makes you moan louder and beg him for more.

"fuck—i'm gonna cum, darling... ah—you're always so good for me..." he stammers, hips stuttering as the slapping noises intensifies, bouncing off the walls along with your soft mewls and his ragged breath.

it doesn't take long before the knot in your stomach snaps, your walls pulsating around his dick before he soon follows, stuffing you full with hot and sticky ropes of cum—so full that some of it form a ring around the base when he attempts to pull out. it surprises him to see just how pent-up he's been, but a sudden whimper from you brought snap him back to reality.

"'venturine... more, please..." for a moment, he was stunned—are you awake? or are you simply dreaming of doing this with him? the thought of being in your mind 24/7 easily flusters him, making his still-erect cock twitch inside you.

well, as a good boyfriend, what else can he do except to fulfill his little bunny's wishes?

his thumb finds its way back to your swollen nub, rubbing patterns across the sensitive area before he shoves his shaft back in, "as you wish, sweetheart,"

[mncxbe]

Heyyy! I hope you are taking care of yourself and touching grass once per day! Don't want you to get isolated that much😔

I request a NSFW prompt 3! With our fav suicidal maniac! DAZAIIIII!!!😊😊😊😊😊😊

Take care girly! Pwease take care of yourself🥺🥺🥺

you're so sweet🥺🩷I did not only touch plenty of grass today, but also drank water and spent time with my besties (health queen fr). hope you're taking good care of yourself too♡

3– fingering you under the blanket during movie night with friends

The film Ranpo chose for the Ada's monthly movie night rolled in the background, but you had a hard time paying attention. I mean, how could you, when your boyfriend's hand was shoved down your panties, his skillful fingers toying with your clit.

You were snuggling Dazai on one side of the couch. The cushy blanket wrapped around your bodies at least provided the tiniest amount of privacy but despite how risky the whole situation was, Dazai wasn't planning to stop his ministrations too soon. Fuck, he was such a tease...

You were a blushing mess, rubbing your thighs together to release the tension between them. You were pretty sure you've never been wetter in your entire life– the heat provided by your bodies paired up with his incessant touches made your cunt a sopping mess, sticky slick coating his digits. Your fingers dug in Dazai's forearm as he gave your puffy clit a harsher flick, making you tremble in pleasure.

"What's wrong, bella, are you cold? Do you want me to bring an extra blanket?" asked your boyfriend in a casual tone but you could see the taunting smile etched on his lips from the corner of your eye.

The man really had some nerve– mocking your sorry state when he was the one who caused all of it. As you squeezed your thighs together Dazai slowly pried them back open with his thumb, using the side of his hand as leverage to keep your legs apart. He dragged his middle finger along your slit, slowly working his way up to your clit and drawing loose circles on it again.

You shifted your body closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder "Please, 'samu I can't–"

"I know you like it, sweetie, you're drenched. Plus, I know how much you love it when I touch you like this in public, you're such a dirty girl" he whispered against the shell of your ear, masking the brief interaction with a chaste kiss to your temple. His words made your pussy flutter and of course he didn't miss it.

"I want you to cum for me. Can you do that, pretty girl?" he cooed, pressing his ring and middle finger on your needy clit as you nodded eagerly, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

The moment you gave him the go he resumed circling your clit, occasionally rubbing it between his fingers. Each little touch pushed you closer to your high, but what did it for you were the downright obscene things he was whispering in your ear.

"There you go, baby. Can't wait to get home and eat this messy pussy out. I don't think you're gonna get much sleep tonight."

You were so damn grateful that Ranpo turned up the volume of the TV a while ago so no one could hear the choked moan that slipped past your lips when you came. Your hips jolted up and Dazai cupped your pussy, slowly rubbing your clit with his hand, helping you ride out your high and preventing you from squirming too much.

"Shh keep it down, bella. Don't want everyone else to find out what we just did, do you?"

You would've slapped the obnoxious grin off his face if you hadn't been so weak and fucked out– though you were ashamed to admit, this was probably one of the best orgasms of your life.

Your boyfriend carefully removed his hand from your panties and wiped the excess of slick on your inner thigh before wrapping his arm around your waist and snuggling closer to you. The innocent smile on his face was enough to calm your nerves. Yea, Dazai was an obnoxious bastard sometimes and his teasing never ended, but he was still the love of your life so you couldn't bring yourself to be mad at him.

[squirmhoney]

honestly just the idea of aegon being obsessed with reader is just insane. like he’s fully obsessed with her, he doesn’t want anyone else to have her, and she’s seemingly innocent so he wants to teach her how to do things and gets angry when other guys make a move on her. idk if this makes sense??

Warnings: Dark. Dub con. Pervy men. A lot of smut. Incest implied but not stated. Public sex. 18+ A/N: Ahh I'm loving obsessed Aegon and want to make him a bit softer. However, I hope you're okay I made it into more of a head canon/drabble and added a little bit of Aemond at the bottom because I miss him.

Aegon

Obsessed!Aegon who wakes up wrapped up in his sheets with you, bodies pressed so tightly together. This could have been such a sweet moment, the early light of the sun beating down on your skin, but Aegon’s perverse mind never allowed him a moment's peace. It’s what you woke to, Aegon kissing underneath one of his t-shirts you wore, positioned between your legs as he tried to wake you. You could feel his hard dick pushed up to your damp panties, rubbing slowly against you as he tried to get off. You whimper at the feel of him, mumbling his name to get his attention. As soon as he realised you were awake, his head is popping out of your t-shirt, asking if you wanted him to make you feel good. One nod and that man is grinding against you, making you both whimper and moan in bliss.

Obsessed!Aegon who comes down for breakfast a minute later than you, not wanting to draw attention to the both of you if you came down together. However, he can’t help but eye you up as he makes himself a coffee, wondering why you look so good. As soon as he sits next to you, he’s asking you these questions. Which leads you to reply with an “are you joking?” look as you raise your brows at him. But he’s insistent and all you can do is laugh pointing out your bed head, the baggy t-shirt of his and joggers that you are wearing. He still swears you look good and to prove that he places your hand over his boner, thrusting his hips up into it for a tiny bit of release. You quickly steal it away, ducking your head away as you try to hide your flushed face from the prying eyes around the table. 

 Obsessed!Aegon who literally feels like just touching you isn’t enough. He is the kind to be so obsessed he needs to be under your skin. Being buried inside those velvet walls of yours will just have to do. You’re literally trying to get ready, putting your makeup on at his desk with your little setup but he’s so damn needy. He’s literally got you on his lap, holding you a few inches above him as he fucks into you. You’re scolding him for his behaviour at first, telling him he needs to get his head out of the gutter. But then his cock is hitting that spot inside of you that has you biting down on your lip, hand falling onto one of his thighs as your nails dig in. It’s a few seconds later, when Aegon is kissing you, practically shoving his tongue down your throat to keep you quiet, that his mum knocks on the door, asking if he knows where you’ve ran off to. With his hand pressed against your lips, he’s saying he has no idea, drilling into you harshly. 

Obsessed!Aegon who admires how dressed up you got for your date with him even if it took longer than expected (because of how much of a horn dog he is). Who is cursing in his head though that you had to wear that sundress he loved so much, especially when it had the man at the ice cream stand eyeing you up so much. But he’s later thankful for it as he pushes you down into the grass behind some trees, kissing down your body as you try to push him away. He pouts up at you, with a darkened gaze as he asks, “you love me, don’t you?” That’s all he needs as you spread your legs, allowing him to hike that sundress up to your waist, wasting no time as he attaches his mouth to your soaked panties, only moving them to the side when he thinks your moans aren’t loud enough for him. 

Obsessed!Aegon who grins proudly as you stumble back to his car, making sure to pass the ice cream stand on the way. The man from before is now staring at you with wide eyes,  noticing your fucked out expression as you practically cling onto Aegon. He makes sure to park the car somewhere a bit more secluded, knowing he won’t make it back to the house in time to have you. Within seconds he has you bare in the back seats, legs pressed between the pair of you as he folds you in half. You whine at him afterwards, telling him he ruined your makeup and hair but he soothes your sadness with a featherlight kiss on your cheek, telling you that he likes you better just like this. 

Obsessed!Aegon who didn’t even realise that you had spent all day out together, not answering a single call from your parents. They’re waiting for you, being instantly alarmed by your appearance. You’ve ruined your dress with grass stains, there are leaves in your done up hair as well. Aegon is quick to joke about how you fell, because of how clumsy you are and they eventually believe him, even if they don’t want to. 

Obsessed!Aegon who waits impatiently for you to make your way to his bedroom. Honestly he is thinking about going to find you and dragging you here himself. But then you’re poking your head through his door, slipping in quietly in that matching set and silk robe he loved so much. You’ve moisturised as well, easily being able to glide his hand up your legs. He’s biting on his knuckles, trying to restrain himself from marking up every part of your body. The only thought that stops him is the idea of you bouncing on his cock, eager to teach you the new position as he strips you of your clothes. He guides you up and down, letting you take full control as he just lies back to watch your tits jiggle as you ride him. But he doesn’t last long, hands having to grope every part of your naked skin, mouth attaching to one of your nipples as he takes control, fucking into you. 

 Obsessed!Aegon who knows he puts you through a lot with his constant needs but does really care about you. He shows you that as he bathes you with affection under the steam of the shower. He doesn’t try to fuck you or get himself off in the process. Instead he rubs your back soothingly as he holds you in his arms, telling you how good you are to him, how he wouldn’t have you any other way. 

Aemond

Obsessed!Aemond who is slightly different in the way he treats you. Waking you up with his mouth attached to your folds, licking and drinking you so you wake up already moaning as your day begins. He wants you to know how much he cares for you, how much he desires you, pushing two fingers into you as he licks at your swollen clit. You looked best like this, strung out on noises of pleasure as you laid in his bed, completely forgetting where you are as you become louder. 

Obsessed!Aemond who swears he hasn’t got a super high sex drive but does find you incredibly divine in the morning. He can’t help but press a soft kiss to your cheeks as you eat your breakfast, not caring who sees. He also can’t help but deny how much he enjoys how you smother him in kisses when you’ve managed to get away from your family, returning the affection ten fold as you cuddle into him.

Obsessed!Aemond who can’t deny you when you touch him. He knows your kisses and cuddling was only meant to be innocent but you don’t understand how badly you drive him wild when your tits press up against his chest or the way you press down on his crotch. He’s indecent he knows for taking advantage of the situation, turning your playful touches into a full make out session. The kisses are sloppy as he looks to have you a pathetic mess on top of him, guiding your hips to take your own pleasure as you grind your hips down and onto him. 

Obsessed!Aemond, whose jealousy is twisted and cruel, that burns within him as he watches another man at the shopping centre trying desperately to flirt with you. Of course you don’t flirt back, you’re too innocent to know what’s going on as you smile at the man. He’s dragging you into the nearest bathroom, making it clear to the man what he’s about to do, while all you can do is follow him. The floor of the bathroom is dirty but Aemond doesn’t care, shoving you to your knees in front of him as he whips out his cock from the restraint of his jeans. His hand is tight in your hair as he groans, fucking into your mouth without care for how your jaw aches or for how you gag. You’re a drooling mess around him, eager to please as you hollow out your cheeks, only to cry and try harder when he hisses that you can definitely do better. 

Obsessed!Aemond who cleans you up, cleaning you up with wet wipes from that dirty bathroom. Even promising he’ll shower you and take good care of you when you get home, trying to make you stop pouting at him with those wet eyes. He pushes you out of the bathroom, lacing his hand with yours as he guides you to your favourite shop, hoping that maybe a nice treat would get him back on your good side again. 

Obsessed!Aemond who gets you guys home at a reasonable time to avoid any confrontation with your parents. Only for your mother to eye him up as he notices the bags of shopping you had got all on his credit card, not understanding why she was so disapproving of it all as you tried to show her. 

Obsessed!Aemond who makes good word of his promises, already having a hot bath waiting for you with him inside of it. Lathering up your body with soap as he takes his sweet time caressing every single inch of it. He doesn’t want you to think this is just sex between you so he doesn’t push it any further even when he feels his cock get hard being pressed against your ass cheek. It’s you that’s insistent, guiding his hands to where you need him while you work your hand against him. Both of you cursing into each other's mouths as you try to keep quiet, you rubbing his cock while making good work to slip your thumb against his head, him rubbing circles into your clit, nibbling at your lip as he does so. 

Obsessed!Aemond, who pats you dry with a towel, moisturises every inch of your body with lotion, even taking time to braid your hair when you’re finished blow drying it. He places you down onto the bed gently, more than ready to go to sleep but you’re not that tired yet, so he settles for a bit of pillow talk instead. Aemond who can’t help but adore every part of you as you tell him stories, listening to every word as he gets lost in the sound of your laughter. Who couldn’t help himself but kiss you when you looked and sounded so sweet, only meaning to show you how much he cared but within minutes has your leg hooked around his hip as he fucks into you. He takes it slow, apologising that he doesn’t mean to be this way but it’s what you do to him. 

[ooctlt]

I think the etiquette of ask blogs is a forgotten art. what I'm saying is (imo) it's not that people don't want to play, it is they don't know HOW, and more importantly they don't understand that the game exists to begin with. obviously you do not have to teach people the rules because your time and energy is finite but idk. it feels like from some of your OOC responses that you assume people know the rules and are playing badly, but I genuinely think people (me) just don't know what you are wanting them (us) to do. and also they (i) don't know how to tell if they (i) are playing the game correctly.

An example I am genuinely confused about is, is inciting a "shut up" answer a signal that the game is being played correctly, because we are inciting a reaction from the character? or is a "shut up" answer a signal that we are playing wrong and need to do something different? I'm sorry. I really love your art and seeing the story unfold but I'm confused and I want to play and I don't understand how.

yeah ive had a couple people tell me this has been the first active askblog in a while and the concept of askblog etiquette has been forgotten- @thatneoncrisis and i made a diagram:

link to full-res image

a "shut up" reaction will hopefully show whether or not it's a closed path of exploration: if you have gideon sweating, going "pshhh its nothinggg" it means there is something worth exploring. if you have harrow slamming the door in your face, that is an advance that wont work on her

transcript under the readmore:

DEAD END QUESTION ANON: CAMILLA DO YOU THINK HARROW'S HOT?

"Please stop talking to me."

This question is BAD because it's BLUNT, INCREDIBLY PERSONAL and founded on INCOMPLETE KNOWLEDGE of their relationship.

NOTE that its not that shitty questions will NEVER be answered, its that 1) they have a LOWER chance of being answered and 2) they have a HIGHER chance of being made fun of in character

gideon: haha who thinks harrow is HOT

DECENT INCONSEQUENTIAL QUESTION ANON: CAMILLA DO YOU LIKE TO DO ANYTHING FUN WITH HARROW?

"Sure. We run a lot of errands together."

This kind of question may not advance the plot, as it is INCREDIBLY BROAD yet NONINVASIVE. They're good for quick 1-3 panel answers. May generally be met with a less EXCITING answer.

It might also be DIFFICULT TO ANSWER because a broad question could include MULTIPLE ANSWERS - asking "do you guys go out" could not be answered SUSTAINABLY, because i cannot draw all the places they visit

ANON: EVERYONE, WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CLOUD / WATER / MOLECULAR STRUCTURE / BONE / CAR / COFFEE BRAND/ BOOK CHARACTER?

me: "i have to do so much research"

NEAT QUESTION CAMILLA HAS HARROW EVER ASKED YOU TO DO SOMETHING WITH HER SHE WAS EXCITED ABOUT?

"Yes, actually. She once invited me to [REDACTED], I didn't know she liked that sort of thing."

This question is SICK AS FUCK because not only do you learn something SUBSTANTIAL about the characters, you have stumbled upon A NEW PLOT BRANCH, one that actively deepens character connections and their past within the world. It specifically remarks upon a MEMORY* rather than AN OPINION and will typically be LONGER.

Another good option is to PROMPT something following this:

ANON: CAMILLA, MAYBE YOU SHOULD TRY TAKING HARROW OUT TO DO [REDACTED] THAT SHE LIKES BEFORE XYZ?

and this can then spiral onward…

*DM, ONE TIME I ASKED ABOUT A MEMORY AND I GOT A RUDE ANSWER; WHAT DID I DO WRONG?

It's not that this topic can never be spoken about, it's about WHEN you asked it and HOW you said it, or even WHO you asked.

Some topics, like the nature of HARROW AND GIDEON'S UPBRINGING are too recent for them to talk about, it has only been TWO YEARS since they left and there are SPECIFICS about the situation that the AUDIENCE hasn't discovered yet. There are things like GIDEON'S PARENTS that she CANNOT answer because she DOESN'T KNOW and answering multiple asks with I DON'T KNOW becomes repetitive and dull for both the DM and PLAYER.

BUT! She can learn! Over time, when the time is appropriate and feels the most natural for STORY PROGESSION. Think of it like a BAD ENDING in a visual novel. You START OVER and ask a DIFFERENT QUESTION, or approach it from a DIFFERENT ANGLE. If Gideon reacts poorly to someone congratulating her leaving BAD CIRCUMSTANCES, consider talking to her about the FUTURE. Instead of trying to pry at Camilla to see if she had an INTIMATE RELATIONSHIP with Pyrrha, try to ask about other things in that period of her life, like how they met or what caused her to move out.

FINALLY, if you'd like an ask to be answered out of character, your best bet would be to goto @notedchampagne and send it there. If you'd like an ask to be answered SINCERELY or you don't want SNARK, you can specify this in the ask, but know this blog may not be your thing.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Just Friends?

Eddie is your older, sexy next door neighbour. You're instantly smitten with him but with the countless women that you see leave his trailer dreamy eyed and lovestruck, you don't have a chance with him? You're just his friend right?

Warnings; Older Eddie, minors shoo, fluff, jealous Eddie. Friends to lovers, Comfort, Pet loss (anon who sent me the request to write about this, I'm sending you all the hugs and positive vibes in the world ❤️)

💌🎀❤️

Eddie Munson is your older, gorgeous neighbour and you're pretty sure he could never be interested in you. He dated beautiful women all the time, you saw when they left his trailer dreamy eyed and already hooked on him.

You'd hear the giggles and their moans every night while you sat on your patio and tried to ignore the noises, ignoring the tightness coiling in your gut and the envy you felt.

How you wished that it was you that held Eddie's attention. The two of you did talk a lot and you had been over to his for a beer quite a few times but he wasn't interested in you romantically.

He had been such a good friend to you since the two of you met. When you first moved here, about six months into your stay your sweet kitty had passed away.

She had hidden herself away in a corner of the room, wouldn't come out no matter how much you tried and it devastated you.

Eddie had seen you in tears one day and you had poured your heart out to him about Missy, he was kind and so sweet with you. For a little bit he just listened as you cried, then he pulled you into a big hug and told you everything would be okay.

"It will be okay sweetheart, I promise you. Every day the hurt will get a little bit better. You'll still miss her but she's here with you always, in your heart and in your memories" you managed to nod through tears and the words had given you hope.

Eddie helped locate Missy who had sadly passed, he was there for you as you through every step, from taking Missy to the vet, to receiving her ashes in a little wooden box that you kept on your nightstand with a picture of your sweet kitty.

Every day Eddie helped you smile even if it was just for a little while, gave you hugs when you needed them and had even drawn a portrait of Missy from one of your photos of her. Something you could remember her by.

The drawing was beside Missy's picture and her ashes and you treasured it. One small act of kindness but it had helped you heal a little bit of your heartache.

Through all of that it was then you realised you had fallen for Eddie.

Eddie who only saw you as a friend.

Eddie who pops his head around your door as you cook some dinner that night, he smiles warmly at you and it flusters you.

"Something smells good princess, can I join you?"

Fuck, he was sexy. His hair was in a bun, he just came home from work and he's in his overalls, there's a smudge of grease on his cheek that you'd love to wipe off.

You fight the urge and heap the pasta into a bowl for him, add the homemade garlic bread and some salad. He lets out a small contented sigh as he settles down and begins to eat.

"I picked a movie when I was coming home from work, want to watch it with me sweetheart?" he suggests to you and you nod. He always picked the best movies.

Once food is consumed you follow Eddie into his trailer and wonder if he had a date tonight? Wouldn't he rather be with them then hanging with you?

Then again he wouldn't have invited you if he thought that. "Don't you have a date Eddie?" You ask curiously and hope you're not prying too much.

"Nah, thought I'd rather hang out with you princess, see some friends" you nod. Of course, friends. That's all the two of you were. At least you definitely know where he stands now.

Maybe it was time for you to have some fun. You deserved to have some fun and it's not like Eddie was ever without attention from women. Maybe he would be protective if you dated someone as a friend.

You watch as Eddie laughs at a certain part of the movie, his dimples on show and his eyes lighting up. He was so perfect it hurt but if he only saw you as a friend then you'd be the best friend he ever had.

💌🎀

Due to your decision you find yourself going to a party that your friends invited you to. It wasn't often that you left the comfort of your home to go to a party nowadays but you figured if anything would help you get over Eddie it would be getting yourself out there.

You're dressed up for the first time in ages and feel really good. Eddie is relaxing with a beer and talking to his friends when you head out of your home.

He chokes on his beer a bit and it flustered you, "Do I look okay?" You ask anxiously and Eddie's big brown eyes are wide as he takes in your appearance.

"Okay" he chokes out and Steve rolls his eyes and smiles at you. "You look beautiful honey" thanking Steve you wave goodbye to Eddie and you're pretty sure his eyes are on you all the way.

💌💞

You wake in the morning with a slight hangover and the hot guy from last night just leaving the shower. His name was Jerry and he was exactly what you needed at the time, just one night where you didn't think of your god of a neighbour and who he was with.

Jerry doesn't stick around and to be honest you don't want him to. Last night was fun but you weren't looking for a repeat performance. You follow Jerry to the door, saying goodbye but startle when you see Eddie outside your door and looking pissed.

His eyes narrow as he looks at Jerry, his big brown eyes flash with something you can't place. You can't help noticing how unbelievably gorgeous he looks but then he opens his mouth and ruins everything.

"You know I couldn't sleep last night because of you and the lover boy here" you frown confused and your heart skips a beat. Was he jealous?

"Um..." You don't get to say much more because Jerry hastily makes an exit and Eddie's vicious gaze follows him.

"Pussy" he mutters and you scowl. What was wrong with him? He speaks again before you can question him and it sends annoyance pulsing through you, once you hear what he has to say.

"All night I heard you and that idiot all over each other, people do have work and shit you know" you reel back from Eddie stunned. The two of you had never traded cross words and now he was giving you shit for doing something he did most nights?

No fucking way.

"Are you serious Eddie? I hear countless women and their moans and giggles all through the night and I've never said shit about that...yet you have the gall to bitch to me when I bring a guy home?"

His pissed looks melts away just a tiny bit and you walk towards him seriously annoyed at this point, "Let me be clear Eddie. You don't get to give me shit when you've driven me nuts for weeks" he blinks startled then grins. He actually grins.

"You're beautiful when you're angry you know, I mean you're always beautiful but I like seeing you all fiery" this disarms you for a second but you soon wave it off.

"Don't you try and charm your way out of this Munson, your pretty eyes and sweet talk don't work on me" well the pretty eyes did but you wouldn't tell him that.

"I was telling the truth" he replies seriously and you hide your smile. Damn him.

"The only woman I've ever wanted to notice me was you princess" he finishes that sentence and then tugs you to him and kisses you deeply. Your brain short circuits for a few seconds before you kiss him back.

Then you pull away and shake your head. Nope, no way were you being some notch on his bedpost.

"I'm not doing this Eddie. I'm not being another woman that you just conveniently forget about after you get what you want" he looks exasperated and gently tilts your head up to look at him.

"You aren't listening to me sweetheart. I'm totally fucking crazy about you. I don't want anyone else, just you" oh.

Despite the joy you feel you can't help but be a bit frustrated. "You have a funny way of showing it Eddie" he nods and his eyes soften as he squeezes your hand.

"Didn't think you felt the same. I should have asked I know, I'm an idiot". Fuck, you thought that Eddie didn't feel the same about you. Both of you were idiots.

"Well, maybe you can make it up to me later? Your famous Mac and cheese and maybe..." You trail off and find the courage to kiss him this time. He responds eagerly, pulls away to kiss your forehead and beams.

"It's a date princess"

💞

Tag list @whysodelirious08 @ali-r3n @lilrubles @yourdailymemedelivery @marvelcasey05 @melodymunson @josephquinnsfreckles @sadbitchfangirl @mylovelycrazyworld @exploding-bonbon @deamours @costellation-hunter

[wombywoo]

Hello!!

I wanted to ask if you would be willing to share how you go about finding the references for the injuries you depict in your work? Your pieces where the CoD boys are sporting injuries, fresh and old, are always so lifelike and to my untrained eye seem entirely medically correct.

I have been trying my hand at drawing the boys retired and resting as well, but I’m finding it difficult to decide what work injuries to add and how to find the respective references.

How do you decide what injuries to portray? And how do you go about finding the reference material?

Your huge fan, amustikas

Oooh ok ok! I'm gonna post my answer publically because I think others would find this interesting too!

To preface, I am definitely NOT a medical professional, and as such, a lot of the stuff I choose to depict in my art is not so much..ah, medically accurate as it is....aesthetically pleasing 🤭

I'll start with scars, as a lot of us enjoy slashing up Simon's face with them, lol. Generally, I'll do a cursory google image search for the type of scar I'm looking for (be warned, these can be graphic) with searches like 'burn scar' 'surgery scar' etc. But I find that for things like cuts and lacerations, real-life scars are a bit innocuous and lame 🤷‍♀️ Unfortunately not everyone's skin wants to retain that perfect slash look™️😔

So what I usually end up referencing are costume prosthetic scars ✨

As you can see, they're pretty gnarly:

And you definitely don't have to go this intense, but I find that the dramatic, carved-like appearance of these translate better to art than a realistically healed wound 🤙

The other thing to consider is the prevalence of injuries in the military. From what I've gathered, the most common will be back/shoulder/limb injuries, just a general fucking up of the whole musculoskeletal system in general due to constant overuse 🤕 Hearing loss, shrapnel/blast/burn injuries are also common, as well as all the negative psychological effects :') goooood times (not)

I think it's neat to look up real-life examples of these things, but it can get a bit intense if you're squeamish...

SafeSearch is OFF, the horrors are REal 😳

So yeah...I tend to tone things down, all things considered...😅

For this particular piece:

I researched broken humerus injuries and treatment 👍 Poor boy 🥺(Yes, I am aware that I consumed entire articles and did a shit ton of research about this just to go ahead and put a female's x-ray in this fucking picture sdfghjkl rip💀😭)

But here you can see the actual process for applying the brace for this particular injury:

Neat, eh?

When I draw Johnny with a knee brace, it's usually a real authentic one you can buy on amazon:

Product placement blast!!!💥✨ Bezos, where is my cut?? 🫰

As for ones like this:

I tend to just...scatter some wounds around and patch them up accordingly, lol. Bruising around the eyes is common with any head injury, and surgical stitching will offer a nice puckered skin effect mmm 👌 (I swear I'm normal abt this)

I'm sure the medical malpractice lawsuits are stacking up for me now, but again--it's usually more about the ✨visuals✨

My parting advice would be--go nuts! Feel free to maim and mutilate and mangle to your heart's content 🥰

Thank you for the question, Amustikas! I love your art as well 💗🫶

[braimin]

LMAO i just know that if sanji ever so much as suggested he'd wear those cute little diner uniforms a la shelly in twin peaks, zoro would not know what to do with himself. he'd bluescreen. he'd explode on tje spot. he'd cease to exist.

You're so right bestie✨ That poor boy doesn't stand a chance.

He doesn't even get a warning when it happens. At some point Nami finds out people actually like the Love Cook and she decides to do a photo shoot with him so she can sell the pictures. Her and Usopp start planning it and settle on the idea of putting him and the girls in matching outfits. At first it was going to be like simple waiter and waitress uniforms, like semi formal black ones. But Nami complained about how something boring like that wouldn't sell, and that it'd be more fun if they were in something more provocative. And then it snowballed into something devious.

They arrive at an island and on the first day they're there Nami and Robin run off to do some shopping and Zoro doesn't think much of it. The next day Franky drags him out to help carry supplies. When they get back he can hear a lot of commotion on deck and Usopp is loudly giving directions on poses; which is fairly normal, Nami does photoshoots every now and then.

But then they get on deck and Zoro promptly drops the crate of stuff he's holding (valuable stuff, Franky reminds him). Usopp isn't only directing Robin and Nami, no, Sanji is also in the mix. Sanji is also wearing the same uniform as them.

Zoro feels like his feet are stuck to the floor, he can't get himself to look away as his brain draws a complete blank and does a hard reset. He's not listening to anything anyone is saying; the same few sentences playing in his head on repeat- 'He looks so pretty in blue', and 'He's probably the hottest person I've ever seen.' over and over. Eventually Sanji makes his way towards him. The clack of heels, he's wearing high heels, he thinks, on wood are the only thing Zoro can really pay attention to. He's vaguely aware of Sanji saying something as he cocks his head to the side.

He leans further into Zoro's space when he continues to be unresponsive; the smell of smoke fills his nose as Sanji keeps talking. 'Oii, Marimo~. You good?' Then the most embarrassing in all his twenty years of living happens, his body betrays him in the worst way.

Zoro, a man of honor and discipline, gets a fucking nosebleed.

[escapismmaxing]

mudwing headcanons

(PLEASE click on her she is so beautiful to me and tumblr kills her with hammers)

physical traits

another huge tribe; longer than ice wings, shorter, but very bulky and muscle-y (think alligator)

alligator is pretty much the keystone of my design for them, and also their design is probably the most canon compliant one i have (said moments before i go against this)

i do like the idea of giving them thicker tails, more adjacent to seawings than any other land dwelling tribe, and also just leaning into the swampy aspect of them more

depending on how aquatic of an environment they’re incubated in (and also depending on parent’s genetics) a mudwing can hatch with fins! it’s not entirely uncommon (fins smaller than seawing fins)

mudwings can have tail fins, fins running down their stomach, and their neck. this is distinct from seawings as mudwings never have fins running down their spine or fins on their limbs

mudwings have HUGE horns and ears to siphon heat away from their face

they also have a throat sac like icewings! they produce a variety of throat song, mostly akin to various frog sounds

also,,, tusks protruding from their lower jaw! (that i just realized i forgor to draw,,,,) this is used for foraging, and also agriculture (tilling soil, etc) which mudwings are particularly proficient in

mudwings also tend to have ecosystems growing from them,, algae and duckweed etc on their backs, necks, and tops of heads which helps camouflage them

speaking of camouflage,, colors,,,, well you know

mudwings only being brown is actually the most boring concept i've ever heard 😭so they’re not! brown is still the most common, green is also very common, muted reds, oranges, and yellows as accents float around as well

culture <3 (social structure)

okay i actually love the SCRAPS of culture content we have of the mudwings

so i guess i want to start out with family structure and community,,,

the whole “breeding night” is so fucking funny to me,,, and it’s staying. i will keep it. i think this can also coexist with courting and mating and committing to another dragon singularly, and maybe all mudwing communities just consist of really complicated polycules 

although parents aren’t always directly and singularly involved in the raising of their clutches, the adults still communally raise/look after the hatchlings, even if it’s somewhat from a distance

also, i think clutches know their parents and vice versa, even if there’s no special connection, you have to avoid incest somehow,,,,

so sib groups grow up together and rely on one another, like how it is in canon

if a bigwings egg is a “dud” and doesn’t hatch or is,,, abducted from the nest for the purpose of a false prophecy,,,, it’s actually really detrimental to the other eggs and can put them at risk to not hatch

clay’s sibs successfully hatching and growing up is,, a miracle im saying. the bigwings is the CRUX of everything. first to hatch, fastest to develop, grows the biggest, etc etc

i also think bigwings can produce fire at a slightly wider range of temperatures in order to keep their sibs warm if they’re ever under duress

on the topic of clutches and bigwings and,, everything

one egg clutches are considered crazy bad luck, and they need a lot of maintenance from an older dragon in order to actually hatch

if it’s feasible (like a clutch of a bigger size was laid on the same day) the single egg will be transplanted into that bigger clutch asap

also a similar feeling about 2 egg clutches, but it's not as bad

single and 2 egg clutches happen VERY frequently with hybrids, so often a hybrid will be in another sib group and all of their sibs go “yes they are us. oh they’re purple? they’re literally us what do you mean”

on the topic of hybrids, seawing and mudwing hybrids are insanely common, to the point where the majority of mudwings on that border are at least a liiiiitle bit seawing

there’s a lot of communal learning and passing down traditions in agriculture, farming, and animal rearing, and oftentimes a family farm is passed down from one sib group to another

(i don’t only make humble farmer mudwings though, there’s also a lot of artisans, scholars, the equivalent of dragon environmentalists, etc)

so moving away from family groups and stuff,,,,, onto wider society, let’s start with the royal family

mudwings pass the crown down from eldest daughter to eldest daughter, through a “royal” line

basically, one group of sibs has the crown, then the oldest/first clutch will be promised the crown, but it can very easily be abdicated and passed to a different clutch if the oldest clutch doesn’t want it or seems not fit to rule

there’s not a lot of competition for the crown because sib groups rule together, and the queen position really doesn’t mean anything, at most acting as a tiebreaker

obviously, sibs never fight sibs for the crown. that’s like speed running a revolution from the mudwing commoner population. but also, cousins don’t tend to fight either because of this strong wider communal feeling

fashion, jewelry,,

i think mudwings don’t have a lot of fashion/accessories because of how swampy and wet their environment is. royals will have jewels embedded into their scales (like moorhen) but even this requires somewhat regular cleaning to actually look,, pretty and shiny? so it’s not common

other jewelry consists of tight bands of wood and clay around horns, clay earrings, rings and armbands

clay jewelry is especially common! including clay beads that represents their sibs

clay fired earrings, strings of clay beads draped across the body, etc is commonly found

jobs! (and also a rant on cuisine apparently)

briefly touched on earlier, idk how much expanding i’ll do here tbh

farming is pretty common, crops including rice, cranberries, watercress, taro, water spinach, water chestnuts,,,, you get the point. there’s a lot of crops to be grown and mudwings grow them!

not in monocultures though, there’s a lot of mixing of crops on the same farmland

also with farmers, animals are raised! but closer to the less swampy edges of the kingdom

they’re still partially wild honestly, but mudwings rear cows and boars very commonly

so much of mudwing economy revolves around food, so they have a very robust cuisine, and they grow/trade for a lot of spices and herbs (with the skywings) and they have a lot of practices surrounding food/sharing of food being sacred

oh god.,,,, the tangent is taking over,, im so sorry

marriage!! i think when mudwings want to get married there’s a long string of cooking for one another!! back and forth making beautiful dishes for one another until they make a beautiful dish TOGETHER. god i love them

aside from farmers, a lot of mudwings are artists! they carve wood and make clay sculptures and jewelry as well as weave baskets and jewelry and thatched roofs from fronds and other wide-leafed plants

pottery is also common

tanners make leather from cow and boar hide, and bookbinders make books (after contact with pantala) and trade with sandwings for dried parchment

also butchers, cheesemakers (cows milk)

as well, the typical circle of scholars and nobles that keep rigorous records on the queendom’s history

and of course, royal diplomats

religions/superstitions

less superstitious than icewings perhaps,, but i do think they have some shared beliefs

perhaps just in a “mother earth” “all mother” type of concept? a dragon that gave them swamps, and then all other life came from swamps, etc

of course, the egg superstitions from earlier

there’s a lot of superstitions/outright magic about sharing food and the etiquette around sharing food

oh, one of you dropped your utensil while eating? in the future you’re going to save each other from mortal danger

someone gifting dishware is considered a proposal,, but it can be platonic or romantic

the monarch spilled their drink? the rainy season will be rainier this year

just a lot of really niche things

yoppee, i love mudwings so much. i think there is so much untapped potential and what we have now is beautiful. love drawing them, love their color palettes, love their sib groups. yeah not much else to say here. as always, send a dm or an ask if you want to know about something further!

[rory-multifandom-mess]

New (not really) Murder Drones Au!

This AU is called the Mercy Drones AU, created by my lovely boyfriend who gave me permission to share this to Tumblr! I helped with some of the concepts and the name!

Basically, while the humans were testing stuff out with Solver, they also made the "Mercy" program, an anti-virus for Solver. With episode 7 and the introduction of the patch, we kind of made it one in the same. anyway

The Mercy program is the result of the patch warping the solver mutation's genes/coding and essentially "purifying" it. Instead of bat wings, Mercy Drones have moth-like wings made of solar panels that sprout from their backs. Instead of mouths at the end of their tails, they have a strange, claw-like hand at the end of their tail. Nothing they "gain" from this mutation is organic. When they go full-Mercy mode, their 'screens' turn purely the color of their LEDs. These drones thrive in the sunlight

Wing shapes aren't always the same and can be based off of any moth species.

Within this AU, Thad has the Mercy Mutation, along with Alice and Lizzy (though hers is Dormant and has remained dormant thus far.) Lizzy and Thad got it from their late mom Izzy, who was once a zombie drone alongside Nori, Yeva, and Alice. (Thad's wings are based off of Luna moth wings, Lizzy's would be based off of Maple (or pink lemonade) moth wings)

The thought of this AU came up because I was losing my fucking mind over how much wasted potential Thad had, mostly focusing on episode 2. He got grabbed by Solver, and while All of the other worker drones it grabbed died immediately, he didn't, and it even acted scared when he threatened it and I was screaming about how it made no sense and there had to be more to Thad because of this.

In the au, this interaction with Solver activated his Mercy programming, fighting off Solver's influence. Soon after this, he did the ol "transformation" thing (see image), and it was during Episode 4 that he finally learned how to use the abilities the Mercy programming used. He wasn't in the bus, bro had to cling to the top of it as they went home.

In this au, Solver not only sent the DD's to Copper-9 to kill the drones but also to hunt down any Mercy Drones who were left there to neutralize the only threat to it's ultimate goal

I never got around to fully coloring this, but the outer "rim" of the wings are silver, and the inside of the wings are dark green, which looks more like a bright mint green in the sun. The inside wing colors change depending on the drone (For example, it would be dark brown in the dark and orange in the light for Alice)

When Mercy Drones are depraved of exposure to sunlight for long (and I mean long) periods of time, they grow sluggish, tired, and weak. For this reason, when Alice realized she would never see the sun again, she permanently removed her wings.

Some abilities include- - Drawing sun rays collected by their wings to create light daggers - Magnetizing their fingertips - Can create other things (from shields to drone repairs) out of their harvested energy

If you have any questions, my ask box is open!! (Extra doodles are under the cut)

The transformation is incredibly painful, hense the pool of oil in front of Thad here. He threw up because the pain was so agonizing.

The ending of Episode 4

Me? Planning on writing both of these and posting them on AO3? Noooo (yes. yes I am. stay tuned)

[ferosmorningstar]

defending Lilith? the bad mother and the seems to be villain of the next season? sucks to be you

Not gonna make any drawing on this. cause is pointless and it didn't deserve the time and effort.

*takes a deep breath*

WE DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT LILITH YET. And who the FUCKING hell told you she's just the only one who we have to blame? I really love Lucifer but know he also fucked things up in his marriage. and I was in his particular situation ages ago so I can get it. That makes me think that he have the same amount of guilt as Lilith because that's how relationships works sometimes, not everything would be perfect forever and Im sure as hell you never had to deal with something like this before.. But hey, it takes two to tango. And Lucifer seems to be troubled and depressed for his previous decisions. So this is my thoughts about the situation:

I think Lilith got angry and disappointed of Lucifer for the same reason he said to Charlie ''There's no point in trying to save sinners''. I think Lilith get so discouraged because the person she love didn't grant her the trust and support to help her people and the breaking point was when he maybe said something to Charlie that in the pilot made her said ''maybe dad was right'', and of course that he agree to let the exterminations happen. That's why she didn't let Charlie get close to Lucifer, to not let him discourage her in any way cause Lilith seems to raise Charlie at her image. I want to believe Lilith is not a bad person but she's very fierce in defending what she wants and believes. And of course I don't believe she's a bad mom at all since she seems to enjoy raising, love and caring for her child as in all the pictures they have and how Charlie speaks so highly of her makes you see that Lilith didn't abandon her as a child or anything like that, Lilith left knowing she raise a very brave young princess to follow her dreams . So that's why Lucifer now sees that it is not pointless to care about his daughter dreams even if he doesn't believe in it at first. Trying to reconnect with her because at the end both are big dreamers but he didn't get to know her too much until now. Also believe it was a bad move of Lilith to not let Charlie know her father better but if you think of it, she's trying to make her not rely in anyone but her own courage and conviction to be independent as her mother is. I would love to see the regal queen of hell is also a goofy dreamer who would do anything in her power to make her daughter dreams come true.

Even if the Lucilith ship makes me so happy I will accept if they won't get together again. Cause sometimes being apart for the sake of the other person it's also love. I really hope they get together .. but still I won't blame any of them if that never happens. And also hope they won't make her the villain just for the sake of drama

so stfu hater and have a nice day.

(sorry for my bad english, is not my first language)

[lazyveran]

Oh lazyveran the fire squad is HORRENDOUS!!!! I love it. Please, elaborate on Azula's particular role in and thoughts on this awful little smorgasboard. Does she feel conflicted about how Katara is changing the dynamics? Dies she even register anything changing? Whats her relationship like with Zuko in this au. What does a day in the life of the squad look like and what does it look like to Katara, who isnt steeped in decades of intricate rituals. Please 

genuinely gives me such joy to make them so awful. terribly terribly nepo babies that will ruin ur life. long rambles below cut hehe

SO! azula is. well she doesnt think there's much wrong with it. i mean, on an intellectual, psycho-analysis level she knows ty lee is a insane, mai is also insane and her brother is [redacted]. but ultimately she doesnt see anything wrong with any of their dynamics because she has LITERALLY no one else as reference. the insane social isolation azula went thru as a child soldier and ozai's fav little nuclear bomb means its difficult for her to parse out toxic or harmful relationships she may have and ultimately, use and utility comes first in any relationship. the fire squad are simultaneously her most trusted confidants, her closest companions, people she'd entrust with her life and legacy and the weight of her father's, and later iroh's, missions to AND assets to be used, strings to be pulled, and loose ends to be monitored. plus she wants to gossip with them. shes the princess, it's her agni given right to bitch and moan abt the peasants!

azula's mindset is all layers of fucked, basically. im aiming for a vibe in which azula herself has no idea how she really approaches and feels for her friends. its emotionally complicated, azula is horrendeous at understanding that kinda thing. the fact that she's so hyperaware of her position as royalty means she locks herself desperately into that role and doesn't allow herself to go beyond it. that implies a distance between her friends she halfheartedly attempts to keep. but the bottom line is that she's insanely loyal because they invest that back into her. azula's a woman who values devotion above all else. she's desperate for it. You Have To Stay. Everyone Else She Loved Has Left Her. STAY. FOREVER. to do so will be to assist and witness her eternal glory and the shining legacy she will deliver to the nation. she will elevate them to the greatest heights, reward their loyalty tenfold!!! JUST STAY. DONT LEAVE HER. NOT LIKE THE DEAD ONES AND THE GONE ONES-

(also, azula is narrow minded in a sense. she understands people implicitly but believes her own personal goals are the Ultimate Ones. everyone wants power, glory, legacy and the love of a nation. they have to, right? why else would she strive to achieve them, if it's not the perfect pinnacle of all human endeavour? she wants to reward her most trusted friends with what she percieves is the ultimate prize in life, so does so from this weird half distance as a princess. shes really weird. her love language is probably acts of service (and all she knows how to do is kill))

azula and katara's relationship is awfully complicated. for a start, azula presumes domination within the relationship. it's sort of something azula just. takes for herself. as her nature, and because katara isnt initially someone she wants to dig her claws in to force them to Stay. she fully expects that she will simply have some new woman near her sometimes and she'll get on with Important Work with the besties. then katara KICKS HER ASS, FORCES her to look and see katara as someone equal, someone worth respecting and listening to. ultimately she does come to respect katara, and that unknowingly starts to change her. as in, azula gets bullied into it. repeatedly. and getting frostbite that one time. and in her draw towards katara, azula begins drifting from the (not at all realised) dependency on her squad and more towards katara. because she has an equal! and thats!!! azula never really thought she'd HAVE one! katara is her WIFE, there's no presumed distance to keep!!!!! so she gets super duper obssessed with that. she wants to eat katara alive, she's enraptured by this woman.

so.. the worst siblings ever... zuko and azula were alone in the palace with only each other for years after ursa's disappearance and azulon's death. it made them so tremendously dependant on each other. azula believes that her brother is the one thing she can protect, wants to save, is her final piece of family and something good and there's no one else, NO ONE else. HE HAS TO STAY. it's very intense. the fire siblings trust each other implicitly and convince themselves that they're going to be stabbed in the back by each other. they're tied together in blood and want to kill each other and constantly butt heads and argue and contradict each other. and they're the united front of the last of ozai's line. the only ones who understand what it was to be a child of ozai and ursa. azula wants to bite zuko's head off and zuko constantly wonders if azula has been sent by a dark spirit to bring endless suffering to his life. true terrible siblings that would raze a country to the ground for the other, then slide a dagger into their back while they watch it burn.

their day to day life is a little boring, really. ty lee flits in and out of the palace on whims. if court is fun, she'll go. if there's a gala, she's there. if its boring? she'll leave to some FN island for a month and a half making connections, meeting nobles, being entertained, probably picking up a WEIRD hobby and/or romantic partner for a week. she sends a bajillion letters back abt her travels - that azula diligently reads and that mai dgaf abt and gets the synopsis off of azula. then ty lee returns, and rinse and repeat.

mai is officially a political advisor, representative of her father and close confidant of the princess-general azula. in reality, she fucks around the palace pursuing whatever she wishes, and conducts a very very terribly obvious affair with zuko that half the goddamn nation knows about. she's happy coasting along, dipping her hand into politics and national affairs every now and then to keep up apperances, and acting as a spy for azula when she wants to. they have a nice little setup.

azula is quite literally busy from sun up to sun down. she's got one billion projects constantly; ranging from political, scholarly, artistic, so on. she manages her own little spy network, she manages half the nobles in court, she micromanages the nation's finances. she's so insanely busy, and thats how she likes it. she always has time for tea with mai and training with zuko somehow. and zuko is much the same. he's never alone in a room, and always has a pile of work to get through. as the crown prince he's heavily involved in all flavours of meetings and consultations. he usually leaves the noble shmoozing to azula, though. he hates them.

they all work together pretty cohesively, since they were born and raised into these roles of nobility. katara was. not. katara absolutely, desperately DESPISES the fn royal court. no one tells her fucking ANYTHING about the tiny intricate sublties. its all very ridiculous to her. the stubborn, proffessional distance everyone keeps with each other is the worst of it for katara, who grew up in a very loving community that has no issues about physical or emotional intimacy. it's terribly lonely. she's stubborn enough to keep bashing her head against the wall trying to work her way through it, bc she refuses to be excluded from the halls of power of her new life. she's also kind of upset that despite being married to azula, she rarely ever SEES her, hardly gets the chance to know her (and connect with the one person she's allowed to have in the endlessly lonely palace halls). azula is simply so absorbed into her duties (and avoiding katara) that they only glimpse each other in their shared quarters. to katara's irritation and mai's distaste, those two seem to be the only people who see each other regularly. its really not a fun time for katara. she stumbles and makes mistakes and it's only then she ever gets to see her wife - and it's always azula's ire that she gets to recieve. toxic yuri.....

SO. thank you for asking abt this. i hope my complete word vomit makes a lick of sense. i adore talking about this au. peace and love on planet azutara

[la-petite-lapin]

Double the Love | Part Nine

Double the Love masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x female civilian!OC Word Count: 2.5k Series warnings (may change between chapters): 18+ Minors DNI, angst, mentions of death, mentions of violence, swearing, mentions of nudity, mentions of sexually explicit content, OC has anxiety, communication, polyamory, M/M/F

A conversation and a confession

Simon doesn't say anything for a while. I sit next to him silently, waiting for the words I know are coming. Knowing that they're going to hurt.

I've accepted it. They're probably going to want to move out after this. God - how am I going to explain this to John...

"We thought you needed space today," Simon starts softly, his gentle tone soothing a part of me that I didn't know needed soothing. "We... I've messed up today. I should have shown you more affection. I shouldn't have let you doubt this."

I blink up at him, dazed and bewildered. He's going to have to spell this one out for me.

Like he's reading my mind, he explains, "We really like you, Tali. We didn't want to scare you away after how intense last night was." There's another beat of silence as he glances at Johnny, still fast asleep, and adds, "I think this a conversation that all of us need to be present for."

They like me.

The realisation sets in like a freight train. They really like me.

A giddy feeling somewhere between excitement and confusion creeps in, all but erasing the sadness I felt just moments ago. Simon looks at me, head cocked to one side like he can sense the heavy mix of emotions swirling around inside of me. There's a glimmer in his hazel eyes as he carefully watches my expression.

"Can we... can we wake him up now, please?" I know that it's selfish, but I need to know that this is resolved. I need to know that they both feel the same so that we can move on. So that I can think and plan and mentally prepare myself for what people are going to say.

Oh God.

What are John and Gaz going to think? The people I work with? I'd like to think that I don't really care about the opinions of others, but I do. Deep down, I do. Strangers can be judgemental and mean - especially where poly relationships are concerned. Shit, what about PDA? That's going to draw unwanted attention and...

"Hey, love." Simon gently squeezes my hand with his, scarred fingers surprisingly gentle against my much smaller ones. "Where did ya go?"

I swallow, suddenly aware of how dry my throat is, and how my knees are shaking. "I was just thinking."

"About?"

"About this. Us." When he squeezes my hand again, I carry on, shifting closer to him on the sofa until I'm tucked seamlessly against his side. "People are going to judge us."

There's a pause before Simon does something that surprises me. He barks out a laugh. A loud, gruff laugh that startles me for a second, almost making me jump.

I look up at him like he's gone mad, and he looks back at me, eyes twinkling with humour as he smirks. "You really think that's going to be what they focus on, princess? I walk around in public, 6'7, dressed in all black with a bloody mask on. Johnny's hardly a wallflower wither. You really think people will be rushing to judge the sweet, beautiful woman walking around beside them?"

Well, when he put it that way, I supposed they wouldn't.

"I mean, there's always going to be a chance that some people will, but fuck 'em. I've caught enough stares to last me more than a lifetime. 's like water off a duck's back." Some of the amusement leaves his tone, eyes solemn again for a moment as he adds, "But seriously, love, if they don't know us, then why should we bother what they think? It's something Johnny said to me when we first started going out. I used to get so fucking stressed out about people looking at us and whispering shit. Just wanted to rip their heads clean off their shoulders. But it's not our problem - it's theirs."

I nod slowly. It seems to simple when he says it like that. I know it won't be, but it gives me hope. Hope that - one day - I'll be as nonchalant about it as Simon is.

There's a grumbling sound from the other end of the sofa. One that draws both of our attention. "Wha's all this about problems and heads?"

Si and I look across at the same time, meeting a pair of heavy-lidded, confused bright blue eyes.

"...and so Tali thought we weren't interested, and that we were ignoring her," Si says, rounding off his summary-version of our conversation to a now wide-awake Johnny.

"Right," the Scotsman says, cradling a mug of black coffee like it's his firstborn. "Well, respectfully, tha's a bunch of shite." He turns to me with wide eyes, and I try not to look sheepish. "Ye know that now, right?"

I offer him a small smile. "Right," I repeat.

The three of us are still in the living room - myself tucked back into my armchair, and the two of them sitting on the sofa facing me. There are some important matters that need to be discussed, questions that need to be asked, and ground rules that need to be laid. Things that won't get done if I'm sitting next to either of them. It'd be all too easy to get lost in their eyes, snuggle up to their ridiculously toasty body heat and drag them back into their room for round three.

I need to stay focused for this.

"So, what does this make us?" I ask, hoping that I don't sound as nervous as I feel. I'm surprised that I'm not physically shaking.

Johnny shrugs, glancing from Si back to me again before saying, "Our girlfriend. Partner. Take yer pick," just as Simon says, "Whatever you want us to be."

"I think I'd like to be your girlfriend, if that's okay." When they voice their more than enthusiastic approval, I turn to my next question, a nervous smile forming on my lips. "What will you tell John and Kyle?"

Simon frowns at my obvious hesitance, the movement tugging at the scars around his mouth. "Captain Price we can leave you, if you're more comfortable that way. And Gaz... we can tell him we're together whenever you want. He's pretty open-minded."

I swallow thickly. "They're both coming over at the weekend."

There's a beat of silence before Johnny starts laughing. "Making plans with our friends without us already, lassie? We've only been together for half-an-hour."

My cheeks heat up and I fight the urge to get embarrassed. "John made then plans, not me."

Simon grins. "I think it's cute. It's good that you get along with Gaz; he's a nice lad."

We're getting side-tracked!

I clear my throat, all business once again. "There's something else that I need to tell you."

They both look at me, expressions holding varying degrees of concern and blind acceptance. They're looking at me like I hung the moon.

I know that it probably won't change the way that things are between the three of us, but I'm still nervous. Because - technically - I've been lying to them since we met.

They still don't know that I'm Alex's sister.

"Did Price ever tell you how he and I met?"

The question hangs in the air between us. I watch as it dawns on them: he never did. Regardless the pair stay silent, giving me the space to take a deep breath and continue on.

"We met over a year ago, when he came to inform me that my brother had died."

Simon's face turns a sickly greyish-white hue. "You- you never told me that he was military."

On the other side of the sofa, Johnny's expression darkens. "I didn't even know that ye had a brother." He pauses, eyes locking onto mine as he says, "But... if the Captain came to tell ye, tha' means... he was somethin' to do with our lot."

Si's head starts shaking before I can even get the next part of my confession out, like he knows exactly where this is all about to go. "My name - my full name - is Talia Keller. And my... my brother's name was Alex. Operations Officer Alex Keller."

Johnny lets out something between a groan and a choking noise. My heart is beating in my throat, palms clammy and chest too tight. Simon isn't even looking at me anymore; he's looking at the floor, the walls, the ceiling... anywhere but me.

"I... how? Alex never told us he had a sister." Simon sounds borderline frantic. I try not to let that statement hurt me; try to remind myself that it has no bearing on the love that my brother felt for me. Catching the look on my face, Simon adds a broken, "I didn't mean it like that."

If I didn't know any better, I'd say he wanted me to walk over to him and tell him that it's all a lie. One big, sick joke. That I actually met John through a friend of a friend, or some other totally normal circumstance. Not via a death notification.

"Calm down, Si," Johnny says suddenly, his soft, placating tone cutting through the room. "Calm down and let our lass talk." Blue eyes lock onto mine, offering me endless reassurance. "Carry on, love."

I clear my throat, hands clenching and unclenching into fists at my sides as I will myself not to cry. "Our parents died when we were young, and Alex joined the army when I was still just a kid. He was all I had left after our grandmother passed. And - when he died - John came to the flat to tell me he was gone." I remember the crushing weight of the loneliness I felt in those days that followed, and it brings a weak, bitter smile to my lips. "But he didn't just tell me and go. He left his number and he made an effort to be there when I needed him. He pulled me into his life; kept reaching out even when I was too stubborn to see that I really needed him around."

Johnny frowns, and I can see the unshed tears shining in his eyes. "But... why didn't ye tell us, love?"

I shake my head, my own tears falling freely. "I don't know," I say, honestly meaning it. "I just... I don't know. Maybe I thought it would be easier? So that you wouldn't pity me for it?"

Before Johnny can reply, Simon is standing up - crossing the living room with long, precise strides. He scoops me up from the armchair, cradling me in his big, muscular arms. I wrap my legs around his waist on instinct, burrowing my face into the crook of his neck to hide myself away from the world, letting the tears pour out.

"We don't pity you, princess," Simon says, his breath warm against the shell of my ear. I can hear the sofa creaking softly as Johnny stands up. Can feel his fingers brushing through my hair. "Just wish you'd told us sooner, that's all."

I peel myself away from Simon long enough to manage two words before I'm burying my face back into his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, lovie," Johnny coos. "There's nothin' to be sorry about."

Once we've all calmed down, Simon announces that it's time we all head off to bed. It's gone 11 and not only do I have work tomorrow but they have to nip across to the base for a meeting, so he has a point.

As Johnny and Simon rattle around the apartment, double-checking that they locked the front door when they came in earlier, and making sure all the windows are shut, I start to head off to my room. The room I sleep in alone.

"Um, where do ya think ye're going, lassie?" a voice calls out from the top of the hallway. I turn around to see Johnny standing there, his broad frame practically filling the space as he folds his arms across his massive chest.

I let out a quiet squeak. "Bed?"

Simon appears behind him, resting his chin on top of his boyfriend's - our boyfriend's - head. "Nice try. Get your arse into bed. I'm not in the mood to chase you tonight." With an adorable flash of vulnerability softening his battle-hardened features, he adds, "I want to cuddle."

Melting inside, I backtrack down the hallway and push their door open, hopping into what used to be my bed.

After a few minutes, I doze off, and when I open my eyes again, I'm bracketed on both sides by the warm, muscular bodies of my boyfriends. I try not to giggle like a teenage girl internally, but it does a lot to shake off the remaining sadness lingering from our conversation about Alex.

I roll over, accidentally slamming face-first into Simon's bare chest. Instead of whining about it, he grumbles, "Are you going to sleep like that?"

I blink, pulling away to glance down at myself. After I flopped down onto the mattress, I hadn't thought to take off my clothes. Or find myself anything suitable to sleep in.

"No?"

Simon chuckles indulgently, joined swiftly by Johnny - his rock-hard chest vibrating against my back.

"Jesus, lassie, just sleep naked like us. 's easier," the Scotsman says, drawing my attention to the fact that they are both indeed naked. "Saves us havin' to move wardrobes around."

I ignore him, kicking off my jeans before pulling my shirt off over my head. I lay still for a moment before something occurs to me - another question I forgot to ask earlier. A glaringly obvious one.

"What happens after Johnny's stitches have healed?"

Silence fills the room. It makes me wonder if it's something they've been wondering too.

Johnny speaks first. "Tha' depends, lassie. We'd have to ask Captain Price. An' it depends on ye, and want ye wanna do. But we'll both have to return to active duty."

Before I can ask what that looks like for them, Simon clarifies, "That means we'll be out on assignments more often." I don't think I'm imagining the heavy note of sadness that weighs heavy in his voice as he adds, "Sometimes we'll both be gone for weeks at a time, with no way of getting in touch with you."

As much as I hate it, I've already made my peace with that part. The bit that I don't get is the living situation. When they are here, I'd like to stay with them. I can live in the flat while they're away, but what about when they aren't? It's not fair on Winnie to have all four of us staying here, encroaching on her space. This apartment is just as much her home as it is mine.

"Do you two have a place together?" I ask, more out of curiosity than anything. I highly doubt it, since they ended up here with me in the first place.

Simon shakes his head. "We never saw a need for one. When we're in the country, we stay in the barracks with the other soldiers." A frown forms on his lips and I pull back a little further so I can comfortably cup his jaw. I smooth my thumb along the length of his cheekbone. "But I don't think that's a place that I'm happy with you being in."

I open my mouth to protest but Johnny's hand appears from behind me, swatting the air between us. "Can we talk about this in the mornin'? Some of us would like to sleep."

With a soft giggle, I roll over again and press a chaste kiss to the tip of his nose, then his forehead, and the cheek not pressed against the pillow. I settle my head into the gap underneath his chin, feeling the comfortable weight of Simon's arm come to drape over my waist and onto Johnny's. I can hear the sound of them kissing goodnight over my head, and it warms my heart even more than I thought I would.

Sandwiched between the two of them, I doze off again.

a/n: hi guys! I felt bad leaving you on a cliffhanger with that last one, so here's part 9 :) thank you so much to everyone for the kind words and support, both on posts and through messages, it does mean a lot 🧡 - lapetitelapin x

[anachilles]

whiskey neat, coffee black 🥃 || ch 1.

aka: firefighter!bucky x bartender!buck (chapt 1), as detailed [here]

“Well, Curt? How do I look? Do I look gorgeous tonight?” Bucky asked, popping the collar of his jacket a bit, then scrubbing his fingers through his hair. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure whether exactly he was trying to tame it into submission or zhuzh it up a little. Curt turned a discerning gaze to him, eyes narrowing as he took a draw from his cigarette, and let the smoke blow out slowly into the cool, crisp autumn air. “Well you did take a shower straight after shift, so I guess you have that goin’ for ya.” As much as it was a rib at Bucky’s expense, it was also well known amongst the firefighters based at Station 100 that those showers never ran even so much as lukewarm. So choosing to brave them, for any reason, rather than going home to wash up was actually indeed a sacrifice worthy of commendation, and that any such reason for doing so was held in very high esteem indeed. A cheeky, knowing sort of smile started to curl at Curt’s lips, the fluorescent light from the bar sign growing closer as they walked towards it illuminating his face in an appropriately devilish red tint. “Seriously though, you look good, don’t worry.”

-> read here on AO3 <-

Bringing up the rear, Hambone took the very last drag he could get from what was left of his own cigarette, before flicking the stub to the ground and promptly stamping it out. “Why the hell does it matter what you look like here?”

Curt’s smirk only widened. “It’s a Thursday night, isn’t it?” It was the sort of smile from his best friend that Bucky’s own lips couldn’t help but mimic, regardless of it being at his own expense.

Confusion lingered on Hambone’s face for a moment before realisation visibly dawned, leaving behind a teasing smirk of his own as he jogged to catch up with the other two men. “Aw, Bucky , you’re still stuck on this?” he goaded, sticking his elbow out to nudge him. “C’mon man, he’s never gonna fuck y-” He didn’t get to finish his point though, when after an extended moment of dangerous stillness, Bucky lunged, getting his arm around Howard’s neck in a light, good-natured headlock.

Some may say he had a point at this stage, but did he really , if he couldn’t even finish it?

Curt whooped with laughter, finally abandoning his own cigarette to the pavement below, running along beside the two of them like he was watching a boxing match, having to take two strides just to match one of Bucky’s own. “No, man! C’mon. Don’t talk about his husband like that! Be respectful, be respectful…”

“Some husband who’s name you don’t even goddamn kn- ” Already slightly breathless as he scrambled to fight back, the rest of his sentence was strangled from his throat as Bucky momentarily tightened his hold. His own smile only grew as Hambone struggled along beside him. With the door finally within touching distance though, he took mercy and released him.

Aptly named by whatever genius had acquired the bar last, The Firehouse had, for time immemorial, been the regular haunt for firefighters based at the local fire station a few blocks over. For all that the guys loved it, were devoted to it, the place was admittedly a bit of a dive. With sticky floors you almost felt bad subjecting the soles of your shoes to, ancient, tattered pool tables that were probably in existence before the fall of the Berlin Wall, and a mere two single-person bathrooms tucked away at the back that ensured massive lines on any busy Friday or Saturday night, it was easy to see why the clientele they did get tended to be the ol’ faithfuls that had been coming for years.

But at the same time, they offered dirt cheap drinks, specials hand-written on the wall that could only have been made so skillfully by cool, but generally part-time, staff who had much more going on in life to give a shit about than their side gig bar job, in an opportune location. There was something comforting about that kind of ambience; a little rough and ready but full of heart and soul underneath the scuff marks. So at the end of the day, it was actually Bucky’s kind of place. None of that really mattered, though, because as soon as he saw him , regardless of how badly the place probably needed a lick of paint, The Firehouse may have found a life-long patron in him.

“It’s called playing the long game, Hambone. And I got plenty of time,” Bucky said as he pushed open the front door, letting the other two men in behind him.

It was odd, the conviction with which he said that. He’d been told enough times in his life, whether by teachers at school, any number of CO’s and higher ups in the Air Force, or even his goddamn parents, that, despite his wide-ranging natural abilities, he was also an impulsively headstrong, trigger-happy son of a bitch. Any such assessments, phrased in any such language, tactful or brutally honest, he’d accepted. Understood it, even, and taken it on the chin. He was a guy who knew his own shortcomings. An inability to wait for what he genuinely, truly wanted however just wasn’t one of them.

“The only thing you’re playing the long-game with is your right hand,” Hambone chipped in once they were inside, all three now enveloped in contrasting warmth from the chill outside and the dim glow of the table-lamps. It was still relatively early and they wouldn’t have been long open, so there weren’t too many people around yet. Hambone smacked Bucky playfully on the arm then, almost in commiseration, his distinctive gold tooth glinting as he asked. “What d’ya want? It’s my round.”

Bucky wasn’t looking at him, though; hadn’t been since the second they stepped through the door. Eyes dead set on the bar, he said “I got this one, guys,” shooing them away to go find a table without even having to say it.

Behind his back, Curt and Hambone glanced at each other, exchanging a quick look of affectionate mocking, before making themselves scarce.

He assumed it would abate by now, if even just a little bit. The velocity of the swoop in his chest to just walking in and seeing him standing there, like he's in the pilot's seat again and his plane's just taken a nosedive. Approaching the otherwise empty stretch of bar, Bucky parked himself directly in front of him, leaning down on the bar top on crossed arms. Behind the bar, he was busying himself counting change from the drawer of the cash register, eyes cast downwards as long elegant fingers work quickly flipping through the crinkly bills, plump lips moving silently, counting in his head.

God, those lips are downright sinful.

He could see him, Bucky knew he could. Waiting patiently, he watched as he finished counting one stack, dropped the pile onto the counter beneath him and fixed them neatly into formation. He slotted them back in the drawer, paused… then started another stack . Bucky’s small, fledgling smile only bloomed further.

He shifted his gaze then, the movement edged with only a hint of reluctance, fixing on the dark-haired man crouched down behind the bar, restocking the fridges.

“Hey, Croz. How’s it going?” Bucky greeted him, the other man’s head snapping round at the sound of his voice. His smile was quick, easy, and he nodded in acknowledgement. The firefighters’ patronage, of which Bucky’d been a part of for just coming up to a year now, was so serious they tended to know all the bartenders by name. Mostly .

“Bucky! Hey, not too bad, actually,” He rushed a little to finish the row of Blue Moon bottles he was on, before fully turning towards him. “Another night in here, so y’know. Same old, same old.”

“How’s Joe?”

Harry, predictably, lit up a little at the mention of Joe, his boyfriend who he’d notoriously never fail to drop into nearly every conversation you had with him, no matter what it was about. From what Bucky had heard of the story, they’d been high school sweethearts and all, then followed each other to college thereafter. It was sweet, he supposed. Not only the idea of finding ‘ your person ’, a concept that had itself long been alien to him, intangible and abstract like the blurry shape of a ship out at sea on a perpetually foggy day, but find that person as young as they had. Of being so sure right off the bat, no more searching required. Sweet, but wholly unrealistic. If it was true and possible for anyone though, it’d be for people like Croz and his Joe.

Knowing the bartenders at their local was one thing, knowing about their partners, their dogs, and their personal lives was another, and wasn’t something Bucky was necessarily accustomed to. On reflection, it wasn’t unwelcome, though now that it had happened.

“He’s great! Yeah, we just found out he actually got into that masters program he applied for, so…” he beamed, before trailing off, like he was almost willing himself to shut up. Bucky was sure then that he wasn't nearly the first person he’d told, probably even today. The pride shone so clearly in his face, Bucky couldn’t help but smile too.

“That’s awesome, Croz. Congrats. Be sure to give him my best.”

Comfortable silence fell between them as Harry half-turned back to continue his work. It turned expectant, though, when it started to occur to him that he hadn’t stopped counting change to take Bucky’s order. “Buck, do you mind? I’m kinda-”

In contrast to his demeanour thus far, his head turned immediately, acknowledging his co-worker with a nod. Like everything around him had been on mute and then someone just suddenly turned up the volume. “Yep, of course.”

Bucky shook his head. ‘Buck’ wasn’t the guy’s real name, evidently, that would’ve just been divine coincidence. He liked to think the whole charade of the ‘refusing to tell Bucky his name’ thing was more a running joke at this point than anything else, but regardless, needs must. For logistical reasons, he simply couldn’t carry on being “Smokeshow Firehouse Bartender” in Bucky’s head, like a dodgy Tinder hookup's contact in his phone, for the rest of the days that they continued encountering each other. And, well, if he wasn’t going to tell him his name, then they might as well share his.

Setting his latest stack back in the register and pushing the door closed, ‘Buck’ finally looked up at Bucky for the first time that night. He wasn’t technically smiling, but his steely blue eyes were alight with a mirth that had pretty much the same effect as if he was.

“You didn’t see me, here? Or hear me?” Bucky chanced, the corner of his lip quirking, like he was laying down a challenge.

Unfortunately, Buck didn’t take the bait. “What’re you having, Bucky?”

Bucky exhaled slowly, taking a moment to once again savour the way the other man’s deep, drawling timbre stretched around the syllables of his name, powerless but to bank yet another superfluous version that’ll inevitably turn up in ongoing late-night fantasies.

“Three PBR’s and three shots of Jameson.”

Buck nodded, whistling low as he moved to set out three pint glasses beside the tap, and got to work pouring the first. “You mean business, tonight.”

“Oh, I always mean business, honey.”

Buck’s eyebrows jumped as he finished one pint, reaching for the next empty glass. “Oh, I’m your honey tonight, am I? What happened to ‘doll’?”

Bucky smirked. That had been the teasing pet name du jour last week, one he’d only had the courage to deploy after a couple of (well, maybe a few) stiff drinks leading up to it. He wasn’t sure if the way Buck’s dutifully placid expression momentarily cracked at the time was more in the realm of scandalised shock, or verging closer to much preferable affectionately exasperated surprise; the edges of his vision had been starting to blur a little by that stage too much to know for sure.

Not blurred enough, however, to miss the delightful pink hue that bled into the other man’s cheeks after he said it. It was exactly what Bucky either needed, or very much didn’t, unwitting or not. Encouragement .

“Oh, you like that one? ‘Doll'?” He paused, giving Buck a chance to jump in, but once again he didn’t bite. Shame. In the end, Bucky easily filled the gap himself, the boldness of the sentiment tempered with casualness. “You know you can be whatever of mine you want to be.”

It was a hard-won, but now easy-as-breathing rhythm they’d settled into, the mindless flirting, the teasing banter, the sort of cat-and-mouse dynamic. It was fun, and they both seemed to enjoy it. He’d even go so far as to call it a friendship of sorts.

Sighing, but visually giving nothing away, Buck flicked his tongue against the trusty, ever-present toothpick resting in the corner of his mouth, avoiding Bucky’s eye as he murmured a seemingly distracted ‘Noted.’ Because he’s a weak, weak man Bucky couldn’t help but follow the movement of his tongue, eyes flicking down and then quickly back up again.

Buck set all three filled pint glasses up onto the bar, and got to work on the shots.

Fingers closing around the neck of the Jameson bottle, he only spoke again as he tipped it up towards the glass. “Hard day, then?”

The question felt like a sharp pivot, and it succeeded in pulling Bucky out of the sort of heady state of mind he’d let himself meander into with the flirting, and the pet names, and the inability for him to look away from his goddamn lips. It somehow didn’t feel like a distraction tactic, though. He asked it quite often; nearly every time he was in, in fact. It was like he genuinely wanted to know, every time he did ask. Suppose that’s why Bucky actually tended to tell him.

He must have paused a beat too long in answering, as that was when Buck’s piercing gaze rose to meet his own. Turns out, he didn’t even really need to properly look at the shot glasses anymore to judge an accurate pour. His eyes, steely blue like a storm at sea, were searching, but his look tinged with a hint of something else uninterpretable.

Well, Bucky’s an open book, and had never been good at beating around the bush. “A whole lot of nothing for the first few hours, but then a couple of RTCs later on. The second one was pretty gnarly; involved a bit of a difficult extraction for one of the passengers. Had to do some unorthodox manoeuvring just to get her out.”

Buck’s face twitched with genuine sympathy, finally finishing up with the drinks. “I’m sorry. Is she going to be okay?”

“I think so. Last we heard she was stable, but in serious condition.” He tried to hold the words at arms length away from himself, though even from there they threatened to weigh on him as he said them. He shook his head against the drag, as if he could shake the weight of the concern off. She was only 17 years old. Physically shrugging, Bucky said, “We got her out of the pretzel the car had been turned into, though, apparently without exacerbating her injuries. So we did our part.”

It could have come off sounding callous to some, he guessed, especially with the slightly forced levity inflected in how he said it, but Buck’s face remained unchanged. Solemn in not quite understanding, but something close. Whatever it was, Bucky felt lighter for being on the receiving end of it; for even being asked about what had gone on at all, even. Which was weird, when he hadn’t even realised he was holding onto anything from earlier in the first place.

“Is it just you and those two out tonight, then?” Buck asked then, after letting them sit in a moment of easy silence, crossing his arms and resting his weight down onto the bar top. So effortlessly cool; so casual. Bucky, on the other hand, felt decidedly less so with those couple extra inches closer Buck’s face now was to his own, leant forward as he was, across the lines of demarcation the line of glasses were serving as. That fuckin’ aftershave…

Trying for somewhere between ‘cool’ and ‘casual’ himself, despite the other man’s signature scent teasingly lingering at the back of his palate, Bucky shrugged. “For now, yeah, we just got off. Douglass might join later, though, I think.”

“Ah…” Buck said, suddenly biting back a smirk. “Everett’s coming in in a couple of hours, on the closing shift.”

Ah , indeed. Because if having one firefighter pathetically lovesick over a bartender at their favourite local place wasn’t enough, their team would have to go and have two, right? The drunken fog-shrouded voice of Chick Harding echoed somewhere in the back of his head then, warning the whole lot of them to 'not shit where you eat’ , or something like that.

Honestly though, Bucky wasn’t overly sure it was definitely love between them, anyway, Dougie and Everett, more than it was flirting by proximity, reinforced by audacious horniness on Doug’s part and a bit of ‘opposites attract’, ‘Lady and the Tramp’ magnetism. See, from what Bucky had gathered, whether through gossip, or stories, or even just in the man’s eloquently rounded syllables, Everett Blakely came from the nice side of town. And, well… he loved the guy dearly, often trusted him with his life, but regardless of what side of the tracks he was from, Dougie could be a bit of a dog. Coming from Bucky , too, that’s saying something. But there was definitely something , and the more Everett gave Douglass the run around, held him off before reeling him back in again, the more obsessed he seemed to get. It was kind of fascinating to watch.

Not that Bucky could relate, or anything.

“Ah…” he mimicked Buck’s tone, eyes narrowed in knowing, pulling on the thread of the other man’s amusement, desperate to see it unravel further. “And what exactly has that got to do with anything?”

Buck shrugged, holding his hands up, as if protesting his innocence. “Just making conversation.” He smiled at him then like they were conspiring, eyes alight with a glint of mischief, and Bucky felt success warm in the pit of his stomach like a downed whiskey shot. “...but you didn’t hear it from me.”

Wrenching his attention from the man in front of him, Bucky pulled out his phone. In a rather uncharacteristic turn of events, Douglass had seemed to be on the fence about coming out to meet them in his last message to the station group chat, causing genuine worry among the ranks that he was seriously ill. Or abducted. Or both.

Bucky 🔥 : ‘We’re at FH now. Top secret intel says Everett’s working the closer’ was all Bucky had to say, not even trying to pretend he wasn’t obviously meddling, followed not 30 seconds later by a ringing chime and Douglass’s reply.   Dougie: ‘Give me 30 mins’   Benny 🐺 : ‘This is what it looks like to have 0 dignity, btw’   Hambone:  🐕🚶   Benny 🐺 : ‘I wonder who’s who’

Bucky scoffed out a laugh, turning his phone to show Buck the chat log, and the other man rolled his eyes through the remnants of a smile.

“Knew that’d get him off his ass…” Bucky trailed off, his focus stolen momentarily by the open chat as he turned his phone back around, just in the nick of time, as a new message pinged through.

Veal: ‘Isn’t Thursday supposed to be Buck’s night closing? Surprised you’re not off sulking in a corner somewhere @Bucky’

And then another.

Benny 🐺: ‘Tell me you boys have at least bought the man a drink to drown his sorrows in @Curtyyy @Hambone’

And then …

Curtyyy 😝 : ‘he’s been up at the bar for 15 minutes now and this place is a ghost town. you do the math on whether buck’s here or not’   Curtyyy 😝 : ‘we’re thiiiiirsty’

Confronted with the reminder that he had actually come here for some other purpose than to stand at the bar and flirt with Buck, the conspiratorial intimacy of the moment started to dissipate into the air around them with each jibe, remiss as Bucky was to let it go. Even more so when Curt materialised as if from nowhere by his side, summoned solely from Bucky’s acknowledgement of his text, silent and unannounced as the goddamn grim reaper. Had he always been that light-footed? 

“Don’t mind me, fellas, if I can just… take these off your hands…” Curt said, leaning impatiently around Bucky and, rather skilfully, managing to pick up two of the pints and two of the shots all in the one claw-like grip. It was actually rather impressive, clearly the result of extensive practice. Even Buck looked impressed with the manoeuvre. Not even slightly bashful, Curt smiled up at him.

“Thank you, Bucky, ‘ppreciate it. And don’t worry, I’ve been keeping your seat warm for ya, for whenever you decide to use it.”

He should’ve probably had the decency to look abashed, it pointed out just how long he was very clearly deliberately taking, but couldn’t quite manage it. With a roguish smirk, he let his eyes flick from Curt’s retreating form to Buck’s gaze, holding it steadily. 

“Suppose I should let you get back to whatever you were doing,” he acceded, a whisper of a challenge, or maybe an appeal, to give him a reason to stay. It didn’t come, though, and all he got was a nod from the other man as he pushed himself back up off the bar, just that little bit extra further away once more.

After a beat, and a sigh steeped in playful resignation, Bucky downed his shot, then picked up the remaining pint. The trail of fire the whiskey mapped out from his throat all the way down to his stomach was familiarly pleasant, and he took a moment to savour the burn. Let it give him the tailwind to convey his thanks, and turn to follow Curt back to their table.

“Hey, John,” Buck’s voice carried from behind him, probably as raised from its mellow tone as he’d ever heard it, emanating from the backdrop of some pretentious indie playlist Bucky would bet any money is Buck’s own, and the dull chatter of the sparse crop of patrons around them. His head snapped around embarrassingly quick, to find the other man with his toothpick now in hand, biting the inner corner of his lip against a smile.

“You forget something?”

Bucky’s eyebrows pinched in confusion.

“Look, I know you boys are regulars, and we trust y’all, but I do have to insist you at least open a tab.”

Fuck . He’d been jonesing so damn hard for that conversation, had let himself get so caught up in the current of it, that he’d tried to rob the place. Turning swiftly back, already his wallet half-pulled out by the time he got to the bar, now he did at least have the humility to look apologetic. Buck was trying to look stern, head tilted and his pretty features all set and serious, and the urge to giggle tickled at the bottom of Bucky’s chest.

Shit, he’d always had a bad habit of laughing when he got in trouble and was having to face the music. Whether that was staring in the faces of unimpressed school teachers, disapproving parents, or stringent superiors who maybe (definitely) either didn’t get, or just straight up didn’t appreciate his sense of humour much. He couldn’t help it, he’d always giggle, even when he actually gave a shit about what he’d done wrong.

Cheeks flushed, he handed over his card to start a tab, before dipping back into his wallet for a couple of spare bills, holding them aloft for Buck to take as a tip.

Examining them in his hand, the joviality hardened in Buck’s expression. “This is too much. Take one of these back,” he insisted, holding it out, but Bucky had already sprang back a couple of steps. Well out of reach, but nearly tripping over a nearby chair in the process.

“No! No, I tried to stiff you, so fair’s fair,” he laughed, even more so at Buck’s silently protracted, long-suffering look. Truly only he could manage to have a stick up his ass about someone trying to give him money, which he was still holding like it was going to grow sentience and take a bite out of his hand any minute.

“Anyway,” Bucky continued, “Consider it partly for that tip about Everett earlier, for helping us get Douglass out. A tip for a tip, if you will.”

"Who’s tip for what tip?”

Both of them whipped round in the direction of the voice, timed perfectly in the sudden silence between songs so it broadcasted crystal clear to everyone in the joint. Crosby wore an innocent enough look, hands full with a box of lemons ready to be sliced.

Not so innocent were those of Curt and Howard over in the corner, both with eyes like saucers, who’d overheard the whole thing.

“Who’s tip are we talkin’ about?!”

[lotus-pear]

bsd rewatch w my friend means obligatory art of my fav found family ever

[dizzybizz]

ms jay herself (and apple)

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[<==PREV PAGES] [NEXT PAGE==>(not out yet.wait a year.or maybe more.imagine.]

saw alot of comments on prev pages; saying 'i HATE that mean teacher! im gonna FIGHT HIM!!' & i LOVE the energy!! it WOULD be nice. to have that catharsis. but the story of young tidestrider is Not one of catharsis. it is a story of being so small and so special and sucking so bad.