#i think there will be a. STARK quality difference

[spacenintendogs]

also i forget that me using my phone to draw is like. not a common thing that happens at all

[terrainofheartfelt]

I'm watching a video talking about how Gossip Girl (2021) was so bland and doomed to fail, and while I agree (I never watched the show, but I've seen clips), I can't help but focus on the cinematography of it. I think that lighting has a lot to do with the tone of a movie/TV show, and just looking at any of the scenes, it just looks empty and has an Instagram-filter vibe. Contrast this with, like, Nora Ephron movies, where the lighting is almost always warm, but not dim-dive-bar warm, it's like watching-childhood-movie-with-family warm.

This may seem small in importance, but it is just a theory as to why the show looks so bland.

I think you might be on to something friend! I've not seen the reboot either, so I guess I can't really comment on the feel of the show or it's visuals, but I think there was something....cynical about the creation of it, if that makes sense. Many of the decisions, story-wise, promotions-wise, inviting-actors-from-the-og-series-wise....all of it gave an impression that they started this project without an actual story to tell. without a point of view to tell it from.

like, the OG pilot for example, the audience was shown (not told) exactly who everyone was and what purpose they served in the narrative, and the main story was about this girl Serena, who made mistakes in her past, but is coming home and trying to make good now. And, of course, the show didn't really follow that throughline (see my #gg meta for more), but there was substance. this reboot...they didn't start with the substance, and they never really got to it either.

And I think when something is made with cynicism and without a point of view and with a...possible disdain for the subject matter & audience....that shows in every aspect of production, including how it's shot and how it's edited.

[confinesofmy]

ah, so when you tell people that you're doing bad it's supposed to make you feel better. i see.

[emilybeemartin]

A whopping, like, 2.6 people have expressed interest in my recent adventures in watching Bean films, which is all the encouragement I need to present to you:

An Incomplete Guide to Sean Bean Roles (Investigation Ongoing)

Our guy has a vast filmography, and I'm not even close to being halfway through it, but I've watched a lot of his significant ones in the past few weeks thanks to a perfect storm of illness, injury, and lapses in client work. Crucially, I have created superlatives for a variety of them and present them here for your benefit. Disclaimer: many of these films are violent! Or have butts and/or tits! Some have dick! Some have dated bits that didn't age well! So, if you have triggers or are watching with young viewers, do your research first! Also, these are just the opinions of one solitary millennial! Nothing is objective! Nothing is real! I care not!

Okay, CYA done, let's begin. I'll get the two most obvious ones out of the way up front, otherwise they'll dominate half the categories:

ACT I

Greatest Bean: Fellowship of the Ring. I've said it before and I'll say it again, he achieved more pathos with Boromir than a lot of his other roles have allowed for, and every note he hits just sings. No debate.

Best Bean for Your Buck: Sharpe. For the best confluence of quantity, quality, physicality, emotion, humor, and action, you can't beat Richard Sharpe.

Favorite Dramatic Bean: Time; he earned that BAFTA fr

Softest Bean: The first date scene in Stormy Monday, where Brendan shyly gets to know Kate, slow dances with her, lends her a shirt and strokes her back after she asks if they can just go to sleep instead of have sex.

Most Dashing Bean: Vronsky in Anna Karenina, that uniform cuts, damn

Swooniest Bean: I know I'm supposed to say Chatterley, and he is undeniably sexy as Mellors, but there are parts where his character is actually kind of off-putting. I'll lay a good chunk of the blame on the weirdly ominous score, the very of-the-time depiction of dubious consent, and Joely Richardson's tendency to look like she's having the worst time of her life while shagging the hot gamekeeper. No, I'm giving this category to Stormy Monday again. He's just so gentle and genuine in this one, without some of the obligatory "heartthrob" overtones of his nineties stuff. He never raises his voice at Kate or manhandles her. He really does feel like some kid who just wants to be sweet to his girlfriend.

Laddiest Bean: When Saturday Comes, specifically the strip club and bathtub scenes.

Favorite Sad Bean: As a collective, he has some great grief scenes in World on Fire, but! The railroad track scene in When Saturday Comes?! That was RAW.

Favorite Mad Bean: Black Death; there are plenty of movies where he doesn't smile at all, but unlike some others, his grimness and anger felt proportionate to the story, rather than just rage because he's good at rage.

Favorite Bad Bean: There are so many great Bean villains (Goldeneye, obvs), but I think my favorite is Patriot Games. Bonus points for all the different hairstyles he has in this film (long locks-shag-shag ponytail!-buzz-wet spiky buzz). Also HUGH FRASER AAAA

Favorite Dad Bean: Wolfwalkers, where Bill Goodfellowe literally turns his own convictions and beliefs upside-down in order to protect and support his daughter.

INTERMISSION

A note on GoT: I haven't watched it. When season one was first coming out, it was during a time where I really couldn't handle watching any kind of sexual assault onscreen, and while I have a higher tolerance now, I just... don't want to. I like seeing gifs of Ned Stark and appreciate that it's one of his great roles, but I just can't make myself take the plunge.

ilysm you grizzled dead wolf man

ACT II

Favorite Costumed Bean: Odysseus in Troy: curls, leather, thighs.

Favorite Un-Costumed Bean: He strips in quite a lot of his films, so let's give it to Lady Chatterley for sheer screentime, exertion, and the bonus of being naked and wearing a flower crown. Honorable mention to When Saturday Comes for the totally not homoerotic amount of butts and also dick in the locker room bathtub scene.

Hurtin'est Bean: Bravo Two Zero. Oof, don't watch this one if you have an aversion to seeing pain, although---you're a Sean Bean fan, and we all know one of his MOs is being GREAT at pain. This one was directed by Tom Clegg, who directed Sharpe. Also lol at the sickle-shaped wound on his shoulder, which is covering his 100% Blade tattoo (he gets a lot of sickle-shaped wounds on his left shoulder).

Best Inside References: The Frankenstein Chronicles, where he plays a former Peninsular soldier, and every reference to his service is a reference to Sharpe, including shots of his greenjacket, pistol, sword, and flogging scars. Honorable mention to The Martian for the Council of Elrond line.

Most Unsettling Bean: Cleanskin for moral grayness, The Frankenstein Chronicles for body horror

Most Inefficient Use of Bean: Black Beauty. Despite getting high billing he's only onscreen for about two minutes and I'm convinced the long shots are a body double. Criminal.

Biggest Missed Opportunity: We were robbed of a Sean Bean Odyssey. R o b b e d

Funniest Bean: Deploying Bean for comedy is woefully underused, but he made full use of his ~15 seconds in The Vicar of Dibley ("Spring" episode). He's also hilarious in Wasted, though I haven't watched the show, only the clips he's in on YouTube, where he plays a mock version of himself serving as a spirit guide for a stoner. IMO, though, Sharpe gives him the most room for humor.

Favorite Character Quirk: In World on Fire, when Douglas is having WWI flashbacks and really coming apart, he kept putting his hand to his mouth. My modern brain first read this as talking into a phantom radio, but of course that wasn't right, and then I realized--he was reaching for a phantom gas mask. CHILLS. AMAZING. (Honorable mentions to the Mouth Rub and the Tongue Thing [pictured above]).

Most Nostalgic Bean: National Treasure. The concept may be utter silliness, but you have to admit, this is a fun movie to watch.

Best Dismount from a Horse: Henry VIII, he goes pshwing out of the saddle

Best Swordplay: You may think there's no possible answer to this, but there is---two moments, specifically: the preparatory sword-spin he does at Balin's tomb just before the goblin attack in Moria, and the four lunges he does at 1:26:22 of Sharpe's Battle. It's just facts.

Prettiest Bean Film: Wolfwalkers, hands downnnn

Favorite Bean Death: All right, you knew we had to eventually end here. It's Boromir, obviously--- nothing tops that. But if we're looking at other roles, I think Patriot Games is my favorite, followed by Goldeneye.

So! That concludes this installment of Bean films, though I'll be continuing the labor, and I hope you will, too. What are your favorites?

[little-spicy]

SNOWFALL

Robb Stark x !Baratheon Reader

Summary: an alliance of house Baratheon and house Stark was going to set place in Winterfell. Y/N Baratheon and Robb Stark were to be wed and be man and wife.

WARNING: MDNI!! Smut 🔥🔥

THE EARLY MORNING WAS CRISP AND COLD, the warm breath that Y/N emitted could be seen in the air.

She held her coat close to her as she watched the morning sunrise. She felt sad as this would be the last moment she would be a young maiden. She would be married later in the afternoon and she felt frightened.

She was told her entire childhood that Robb Stark would be her betrothed. Her father and his father were friends and her father knew the best way their houses could come together was through marriage.

She was the oldest, being one year old than Joffrey and the only one of her family to have her fathers brown curls.

Of course her mother despised the agreement, she believed her daughter was worthy of a better suitor but nonetheless it was still set in stone.

Robb Stark was definitely different from what she imagined. She knew it could of been worse, he was a gentleman and kind, showing her the home that was soon to be shared.

And she could tell he was just as nervous was her. They were both young and knew their duties were required one day.

Y/N tried not to think of it as she felt the sun rise and felt the heat of the sun rest on red cheeks.

"Excited for the big day?" A voice said and Y/N jumped and turned to see her uncle Tyrion coming forward.

"Excited to be married and away from my family?" She asked her uncle sighed and stood beside her.

"It's probably better, you and I both know that kingslanding is no place for someone like you." He told her.

"And what am I?" She asked and he chuckled.

"Truthful, kind, surprising you turned out that way considering how your mother is." He said and she laughed.

"Don't say that too loud, mother can hear everything." She told him.

"That's because your mother is a wicked witch, have I taught you nothing from my bedtime stories?" Tyrion asked and the both laughed.

"I do, even though I know how my family is, I'll still miss them." She said and looked down at her uncle. "Especially you, what will I do without my favorite uncle?"

"You'll adapt, you'll grow that's a good quality you have as well." Tyrion said. "Just know that you'll be taken care of, that Robb stark is a good man, I hate to admit but he's a good man."

"Thank you." Y/N stared at the sunset and closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Time to start the day?"

"Of course, let's go." Tyrion said and walked with his niece.

Both of them taking of the future and of the past, making Y/N feel at ease from the words of her uncle.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

After the small walk and talking with her uncle, she returned to her chambers and only a few moments of peace lasted until her hand maidens came in and began to get ready for the wedding.

She smelled of lavender and lilac, and her long brown curls fell perfectly. She felt refreshed and as they dried her, she saw her wedding gown laying on the bed.

Soon her mother, Lady Stark, and her soon to be sister Sansa had come in to help.

The Stark women came to bring Y/N gifts to welcome her into their home. Sansa had helped make a veil for Y/N and Lady Stark had brought a beautiful brooch of the Stark family to welcome her.

She felt so honored by the kindness of the Stark family, of course she could tell there was never a dull moment.

"If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to be alone with my daughter." Cersei told the Stark ladies and the nodded.

"Of course, see you at the wedding my dear." Lady Stark said and Sansa followed behind and left the two women alone.

Cersei looked at her daughter and smiled, she placed her hands on her daughter's cheek and led her to the dresser.

"Let me do your hair." Cersei said and Y/N nodded and felt content as her mother brushed through her hair. Feeling as if they were home in the castle. "This will be the last time I do it, then you'll do it for daughters of your own."

"I'll miss this." Y/N said sadly. "You always made the prettiest braids."

"Your grandmother did the same thing for me when I was a child." Cersei told her. "You remind me so much of her, my mother was so kind and i remember the day you were born, I could just feel my mother's presence in you."

As Cersei continued to brush, Y/N but her bottom lip and felt the creeping question she always had when it came to her betrothal.

"Mother, is it scary?" Y/N asked her. "I mean I know you didn't marry father for love, how did you do it?"

"Wine, lots of wine." Cersei said, bitterly and grabbed a chunk of hair and brushed it softly. "Overtime it did help that I had children, I had you, that's all that mattered."

"Do you think he'll make me happy?" Y/N asked and Cersei scoffed.

"I wouldn't count too much on that, sometimes it's just an alliance, remember that." Cersei told her and Y/N grew silent. "Are only duty is to marry and bring honor to our house through marriage and bare many children."

Y/N nodded and the two of them fell silent as Cersei continued to do her daughter's hair.

Cersei loved all her children but something about Y/N was special. She was her first, the first one of her children to truly live. She looked up at Cersei and when she did it felt as if nothing mattered.

Her daughter looked up to her and still does, Cersei knows the type of person she is, but the warmth and innocent eyes of her daughter made her feel human and her softer side was only seen by her.

Cersei didn't care of that her daughter wasn't Jaime's all she cared was that her daughter was protected. She truly had a place for her little doe.

"Lets get you in your dress." Cersei said as Y/N looked in the mirror and saw her hair up in a beautiful braid.

She followed her mother and helped her in her dress. She tied up her corset and helped her to the tiniest detail, knowing this would be the last time she would.

"You look beautiful." Cersei said as she led Y/N to the mirror. Y/N felt truly beautiful, she forgot for just a moment what awaited her and felt happy with how she looked.

"Thank you mother." Y/N said and turned to her mother and hugged her tightly. Cersei held her daughter right and tried not to cry.

The women heard a knock on the door and Cersei wiped the tears away quickly and cleared her throat.

"Come in." Cersei said and the door opened to reveal Robert Baratheon, Y/N's father.

"You look so beautiful my little doe." Robert said and came over, he took her hands and took a long look at her.

Y/N blushed and smiled as her father looked down at her with such pride. He thought Lyanna was the most beautiful but at that moment, his daughter was the most beautiful thing he had seen.

"Let us go." Robert said and Cersei sighed and grabbed her veil and placed it over her. "Robb will treat you right, he's a noble man."

Cersei fought the urge to bite back but knew better than to do it. Y/N walked along her mother and father as they began to walk.

Each step they took Y/N began to fully realize she was getting married.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Many people were at the Godswood, the heart of Winterfell and where Lord Stark wanted the ceremony to be.

The tree stood beautiful before them, the faint redness of the leaves contrasted with the white snow. The birds chirped and the small murmurs of the people from Winterfell and the guests that came from Kingslanding.

Her mother parted from her reluctantly and went to where her brothers stood and Robert guided Y/N down the snowy path.

Y/N could see Robb in his bear skin cloak, his face freshly shaven and his eyes were full of emotions. Fear, admiration, and another one she couldn't figure out.

She felt her heart race as she came closer and closer to him. As Y/N and Robert came up to Robb, Robert smiled down.

"Take care of her." Robert said and walked over to his wife.

Robb looked at Y/N and he smiled, she blushed at his gaze and the Septon interrupted their eye contact.

"You may now cloak your bride and bring her under protection." The Septon said and Robb did so and placed the large cloak over her shoulders.

Robb then placed his hand on her back to bring her closer to the Septon and he continued.

"My lords and my ladies, we stand here to unite these two houses as one. Princess Y/N Baratheon and Lord Robb Stark as one flesh, one blood, and one soul."

The Septon pulled out a ribbon and grabbed both of their hands. Y/N's hands were shaking as the Septon took her hand and when Robb placed his hand on top of hers he took it gently and squeezed.

"In the sight of all who sees and in the eyes of the gods I hereby bound these two souls, binding them as one." The Septon spoke. "You may kiss your bride."

Robb looked at Y/N and leaned down to kiss her softly. When they kissed it felt strange, an unfamiliar feeling crept up and Y/N didn't know what it was but she liked it.

The feeling of his warm lips against her made her forget of everyone around them, ignoring the sounds of their cheering and screams of the houses being united.

They parted their kiss and looked at each other with bewilderment. Y/N smiled first and made Robb smile back, he kissed her left cheek softly and the both turned to the crowd in front of them.

"I present to you Lord Robb Stark and Lady Y/N Stark." The Septon spoke and everyone erupted in applause once more.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

After the wedding ceremony the feast that was held afterwards was a party to remember. For once everything seemed peaceful and joyful.

Cersei was actually civil with her brother Tyrion, Robert was blinding drunk yet, and even Joffrey was not as unpleasant as usual.

Everyone cheered and praised the happy couple, giving them their blessings and kind words.

It seemed everyone was so engrossed with the feast that Robb took Y/N away from the loud noises and back to their now shared chamber.

Y/N and Robb were still in their wedding garments, Y/N was able to get her braid undone and her long hair flowed behind her back. They were both unsure of what to do, and stood in front of each other in nervousness.

"I- uh- I know this isn't- that this is-" Robb was then was cut off by Y/N.

"Strange?" Y/N said and Robb nodded and sighed in relief.

"Yes." Robb answered. "We don't have to-"

"I- I want to." Y/N said, her face turning red. "I just want you to know, I know I'm not the ideal girl you intended to marry but I want to be the best wife I can."

Robb's eyes softened at her words, she cupped his cheeks.

"I don't want to be like my mother and father." She told him. "I want to be an ally, a companion, so much more than just an alliance."

She kissed both his cheeks and he grabbed her waist and pulled her close.

"I'd like that, I want you to know that I will be an honorable man."'Robb told her and held her tight. "I know I'm not the man you wanted either but I promise you I'll treat you as an equal."

Y/N nodded and grabbed his hand and placed it on top of her shoulders and guided him to take off her dress. The world felt still and they both felt as if they couldn't breath once Y/N's dress fell on the floor.

Robb then got on his knees and kissed up her thigh, she blushed bright red and felt electricity as she felt every kiss on her thigh.

She tried to hide a moan but Robb heard her and that's what made him feel bold, snap.

Robb suddenly got up and picked her up bridal style, she squealed as he placed her on the bed.

Y/N looked up to Robb and the look in his eyes held lust. She watched as Robb moved his hands across her body and felt her body tingle and goosebumps erupted.

He placed her on the warm bed, layered with thick blankets, and the soft feel of sheep's skin.

Her long hair fell back as Robb looked down at her, his eyes filled with lust.

"Gods, you're beautiful." He said and kissed one of her breast, causing her to squirm.

He smiled while continuing to kiss her, he went up to her neck and up until he reached her lips.

She kissed him and touched his cheeks gently. As they pulled apart they put their foreheads together and both caught their breaths.

"It's going to hurt for a second, I'll be gentle I promise." Robb told her and she could feel her tummy flutter as he grabbed his cock and rubbed it through he folds, touching her clit over and over.

She felt terror rise in her chest as she awaited the pain, all her life after she gotten her maiden hood, her maids, mother, and septas told her of the pain of her wedding night.

She felt his cock slide through and she hissed, she immediately put her hand on his arm and squeezed. He stopped and saw the tears fall.

"I'm sorry." He said and kissed her cheeks and waited for her to allow him to move.

"It's alright." Y/N told him and looked up to him with glossy eyes. "You can move, love."

The nickname she gave him made his heart swell and he moved at a slow pace, he tried not to cum as he felt her warm, tight walls grip him.

She felt the uncomfortable burn of being stretched and as he continued to move, the more bearable it was. The soon burn began to make her stomach flutter, and her breath hitch.

Robb watched as her expression changed from pain to pleasure. It made Robb swell with pride as his wife felt pleasure and leaned down and kissed her as his pace didn't stop.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and gripped into his auburn curls. As they released each other from their kiss, she threw her head back with a moan.

"Please." She begged and Robb smirked, leaning down to her her ear.

"What? What do you need?" He asked tauntingly, and pulled back slowly and slammed back into her and she yelped in surprise.

"Please, don't hold back." She looked at him and touch her hand on cheek. "Fuck me."

She kissed him once more and he moaned in her mouth and obliged to her and began to fully pound into her.

He was feral, he was relentless and fully in heaven as she milked him.

"I-I'm, oh gods!" She yelled and felt her walls clamped down onto his shaft.

She felt him shudder in pleasure as his ropes of cum began to fill inside her.

"Gods, yes." He moaned and jolted as he moved his cock in and out slowly, coming down from his high.

She felt goosebumps on her arms and legs as she began to breathe heavily from her first orgasm.

Robb pulled out of her and she felt full of his seed as he collapsed beside her. She moved to her side to face him, the faint glow of the candles and fire shone on his face.

The look of happiness and content from his face made her heart swell.

"Hi." She said to him, which caused him to chuckle.

"Hi." He said and she felt her cheeks redden.

He put his hand on her hip and he could feel the goosebumps rise.

"So that was-" Robb couldn't find the words and she finished for him.

"Amazing." She said and he nodded, he leaned forward and kissed her lips softly.

"Now that you're my wife, I won't be able to get enough." He said and she shuffled closer to him and he held her in his arms. "I meant what I said."

"What?" She asked and looked up at him.

"I'd treat you as an equal, my wife and a friend." He said and Y/N laid her head on his chest. Smiling hearing those words and hearing the sound of his heart beating.

"Thank you." She said and moaned as she felt Robb touch her clit and made her squirm in his arms.

"What do you say, lady stark, another time?" He asked and felt his cum coat her thighs and smeared his cum around as lube and she could feel herself getting wet again.

"Yes, my lord." She said and Robb growled and got on top of her, she giggled as he enveloped her in his arms and kissed him.

She felt happiness in his arms, and held him close. Both of them later in the night tangled in each other and asleep together.

Both of them glad that they were husband and wife.

A/N: HOPE YOU LIKED IT!!! Ty for reading and I also wanted to add I'm doing commissions!!!! Just message me and I can show you some of my pieces or go to @ peytonmunson on insta!

[zorobae]

Luffy and Zoro throughout One Piece (season 1)

Although I've written an entire essay on Luffy and Zoro and their relationship in the manga, I think that their live action versions (and the plot surrounding them) are different enough to make it worthwhile to analyze them separately. So here goes...

Luffy gets introduced to us as someone who is enthusiastic and full of stubborn determination to reach his goal, i.e. to become the King of the Pirates. Zoro gets introduced with a similar determination except that he goes about his goal in a more aimless way. The show never explicitly states why Zoro is spending his time hunting pirates, yet it becomes evident early on that being a pirate hunter is something he does to pass the time or to earn money rather than something he intends to do for the rest of his life. Zoro, the pirate hunter, was in a state of stasis. He wasn’t challenging himself, not moving forward or any closer to reaching his goal of becoming the world’s greatest swordsman. Meeting Luffy is what makes him reflect on that and it’s also part of what makes him initially stay with Luffy. Also, both Zoro and Luffy are straightforward and share the same sense of justice. In fact, there are probably only two things Luffy was looking for in a first mate and that’s firstly, someone who he considers to be a good guy and secondly, someone who is strong. Zoro gets established to be both when Luffy first encounters him.

An interesting change on the show is that we get to see Zoro being recruited by two different organizations. First Baroque Works and then the Marines. However when Zoro refuses their offers, he gets punished for doing so. Those offers serve as a stark contrast to Luffy asking him to join his crew. Luffy doesn't try to force Zoro to follow him nor does he punish him for not agreeing to join his crew. So when Zoro does help and follow Luffy, it is entirely of his own volition. And their teamwork when they fight against Axe-Hand Morgan is just as effortless and badass as it is in the manga. Luffy was definitely right when he said they’d make a good team.

In the first three episodes, Zoro keeps saying he is not a part of Luffy's crew whenever Luffy refers to them (including Nami) as such but he also makes it evident in episode 2 already that he is devoted to following Luffy. And that’s not even subtext but something Zoro clearly states when talking to Cabaji. He not only believes in Luffy but he is also starting to believe that next to Luffy, as part of his crew, is where he belongs. To quote Mackenyu: “Meeting Luffy is the biggest thing to ever happen to Zoro… though, of course, he’d never say that out loud”. Right after they defeat Buggy and leave the island, there’s also that adorable blink-and-you-miss-it moment where Zoro actually turns back and waits for Luffy which is just such... quality first mate behavior.

The first mate behavior slowly but surely gets better from here. Because naturally, the more time Zoro spends with Luffy, the more he gets to see what kind of a person Luffy is. He sees Luffy’s determination and possibly his own reflected in it. He sees his compassion and loyalty and how he’d stop at nothing to protect his crew and realizes that Luffy is someone worth following. And Zoro returns Luffy’s loyalty with his own, so to say. However he still keeps an emotional distance. Or to put it differently, he doesn’t fully commit to following Luffy. And the only reason I can think of as to what’s holding Zoro back is the importance of Zoro’s own dream. He may not want to follow Luffy if doing so gets in the way of his goal. That concern is gone after Luffy decidedly does not stop Zoro from fighting Mihawk. And it’s also why Zoro chooses the moment he wakes up after the fight as the one to vow his undying loyalty to Luffy.

This moment is important for Zoro cuz it is the start of his wholehearted commitment to Luffy and the first time he is “emotional” with him. The emotional distance that was there before — and that prevented Zoro from having an actual conversation with Luffy after he revealed Garp is his grandpa — is no longer here. But this moment is also incredibly significant to Luffy so let me dial back just a bit. Luffy is willing to die for his dream and Zoro has the same attitude. Luffy also said that he “doesn’t do regret”. And yet... he seems to be unwilling to admit it but what else does Luffy feel besides regret and fear when he nearly has a panic attack after Zoro lost to Mihawk. Or when he refuses to eat in order to clean Zoro’s swords. Or when he fails to find the right words to say to an unconscious Zoro. Add to that Nami leaving and Luffy getting bested by Arlong and you have a Luffy who, for the first time, seems to have doubts. In himself and in the path he’s chosen. But those doubts get assuaged by this same moment, thanks to his first mate. In the manga, Zoro is often the only one who understands Luffy and who is his pillar of strength in the rare cases that Luffy needs one. Luffy is always there for everyone when they need him but who is there for Luffy when he needs someone? Well, it’s usually Zoro. And we get another example of that in the following episode.

Not only is this scene meaningful cuz Zoro is there for Luffy when Luffy needs him but it also goes to show the deference and trust that Zoro has for Luffy. Even when Luffy does something Zoro may not agree with, he never tries to undermine his position as the captain in any way. (Zoro has in fact zero tolerance when it comes to anyone disrespecting his captain.) He always follows his lead. Or rather, he always follows his lead in the manga but in this scene on the show, it basically explains why Zoro trusts Luffy’s intuition in the first place.

The respect, admiration, understanding and growing love that Zoro and Luffy have for each other was both wonderfully written and could not have been better portrayed. I’m quite grateful. There are differences to the manga of course but personally, I have no issue liking both versions and I look forward to seeing how having changed the story so far will possibly “change” Luffy and Zoro’s dynamic within the rest of the show~

[astroboots]

Issue #11

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: Miguel brings you gifts.

Word count: 3,600

Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | thirstworldproblemss’ Masterlist

[Previous] [Next]

Stark’s courier service arrives at your hotel the following day, a crew of four brawny looking men dressed in overalls, carrying in some 13 boxes of equipment, which take up the majority of the floor space of your luxury suite. 

It finds residence in the seating area of the hotel room. Fancy looking gadgets of shiny chrome and colorful LED lights that look like they were stolen from the movie set of Back to the Future. 

Miguel sets up shop, turning the pink girly vanity dressing table into an impromptu workbench. It’s where he’s been seated most of the last 36 hours, hunched over the tiny little table tinkering with the watch and various futuristic looking mechanical gears at all hours of the night. 

The laser scalpel he’s using might be soundless, but Miguel sure isn’t. Last night, you’d been constantly woken up by his growling as he trashes another expensive looking tool with an angry growl. Pacing the room for a few minutes, mumbling and complaining about the cheap quality of Stark tech and how primitive this world is. Then he's right back at it, sitting back down on the little pink velvet ottoman to continue tinkering. 

Tonight is no different. You’re in bed, scrolling your phone to unwind before going to sleep, when you hear him grumble again then stab the laser scalpel into the surface of the table. 

Peeling off the fluffy comfortable quilt wrapped around you, you make your way over to him before he destroys any more fancy furniture you can never dream of affording to replace on your modest salary. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, as you stand behind him. 

“Bastard’s tagged the thing with a receptor that feeds information about any modifications made back to him. It’s booby trapped so that if I try to remove it, the whole thing will disintegrate.”

You lean over to peer at the desk over his shoulder, observing the arc reactor that's pulsing like a beating heart with a glow of blue. 

“Does it matter? Let him have your technology.” 

In the reflection of the vanity mirror, you can see the small muscle in his jaw tic with irritation. 

“No,” he says flatly, picking up the scalpel again from where it’s wedged into the table. “We can’t risk him getting a hold of inter-dimensional technology. I don’t want Stark to be able to locate and come after you.”

Oh Jesus, not this again. 

“I already told you, I’m not interested in Tony Stark." You resist the urge to roll your eyes at part two of Miguel's unwarranted jealousy feud with Stark. Didn’t the two of you have a heartfelt conversation about this? 

“That’s not the problem.”

“Then what is?”

He's grinding down on his jaw with irritated anger at whatever it is he’s thinking but not sharing with you. “We can’t trust him.”

“He’s a superhero, Miguel, just like you. If we can't trust him, then I don't know who we can trust.”

Miguel's mouth pulls into a grim and tight line at your words.  For a brief moment, you think you catch a hint of fear on his face, before he breaks eye contact and turns away, back towards the bench. It takes you by surprise because you didn’t think Miguel was scared of anything. 

“Tony Stark is one of the good guys,” you try again.

You rest a hand on the edge of his shoulder, trying to help placate his unease. “He’s an Avenger, remember? It's their job to protect the world.”

It dawns on you when you hear the words from your own mouth. The reason why he doesn’t want Tony Stark to be able to keep tabs on you and come after you.

The Avengers are meant to protect the world from any threats, and right now one of the greatest threats to this world is… you.

“Oh,” the tiny sound punches out of you as a yawning pit of uncertainty and fear opens up in your stomach.

One in every 40 New Yorkers will have a run-in with Superhero in their time in the city. 

You've just always thought that, if your turn to encounter the Avengers came, it would be as a grateful civilian saved from the clutches of evil. You never thought it would be because you were the danger the world needed saving from.

Miguel must sense the moment the realization hits you, because he sets aside his tools and takes your hand, gently stroking the palm of it with his thumb.

"You have nothing to worry about, it’s just going to take some time," he murmurs, and he looks up at you with such warmth it makes the anxiety in you thaw slightly. "I'll be done with it soon.”

He eyes the arc reactor, not letting go of your hand. "Try to get some sleep."

You fall asleep to the white noise of tinkering metal and Miguel’s frustrated murmured curses. The noises should annoy you, but they don't. You find it oddly comforting, being able to hear Miguel move around in the same room as you when you’re in bed. Know with every fiber of your being that his presence means you're safe and easily drift fast asleep.

You don't know how long you stay asleep for or how much sleep you manage to catch before you feel the bed dip beside you.

"Hey," a voice softly cajoles you. There's a warm palm on your shoulder, gently nudging you awake. But you're not prepared to wake yet. Too comfortable in the haze of sleep to give it up.

You bury your head into the pillow, hoping to shut out any interference that's trying to keep you from your sleep.

"Cielito," the gentle voice tries again. "Wake up."

Grumpily and with great resistance, you strain to turn your head, squinting your eyes awake to see Miguel's face filling your vision.

It’s dark in here save for a small lamp left on in the far off corner. In this muted light, his scarlet eyes are illuminated with an otherworldly brilliance. If you had been more awake, you would have wanted to take a second or two to marvel at how beautiful they are.

"I got something for you," he says. 

There’s a barely contained eagerness in his voice as he speaks, and sleepy as you are, it peaks your interest. You blink your eyes properly open, adjusting to the dim dark to see two small boxes set next to your pillow.

"Miguel, it's..." you flick your wrist towards you, when you remember the watch is no longer there. It’s odd how naked you feel without Lyla as your constant companion on your wrist.  

You awkwardly prop yourself up on an elbow with great effort to figure out time the old fashioned way, glancing at the alarm clock on the nightstand. 

In a bright glaring LED, the digits announce: 01:00. 

Past midnight?! Has he lost his mind?

"It's one in the morning! Why are you waking me up after midnight!?"

Unbothered by your outrage, he continues to lean across you to drag one of the boxes closer.

 "I'm finally done modifying the parallel universe traversal device, so I got you something to celebrate." 

You blink up at him in surprise. When he said he’d be done soon, you didn’t think he meant tonight. 

“It’s from that place you wanted Stark to take you," he says, opening the box one-handed to reveal a gaudy looking golden donut waiting for you.

Then he drags the second box over, setting it next to the first and flips the lid open. Inside are half a dozen cinnamon-sugared donuts.

"And these are regular old donuts, from the Lower East Side for fifty cents each. We can do a comparison test. If that ugly golden donut is tastier, I’ll chop off my arm.”

You snort out a laugh. His one-sided feud with Tony Stark is alive and well you see. You don’t understand why this has become such a point of contention for him. Stark had never actually suggested he was going to get you golden donuts. 

Before you have the chance to dig in, Miguel puts out his hand, palm up, on the mattress in invitation. "Give me your hand first," he instructs.

You oblige him, placing your hand in the middle of his, and he wraps the familiar watch around your wrist. Except it’s not as familiar as you remember it to be. It’s considerably chunkier now to accommodate Stark's arc reactor that sits in the middle and if anything it looks more like a cuff bracelet than a watch.   

But you don’t mind, you’re glad to have the comforting weight of it back on your arm, wrist no longer feeling quite so naked.

“It’s bulkier than I would’ve liked. But there’s no helping how primitive Stark’s tech is,” Miguel snarks, clearly pleased with himself even though the man he’s bitching about isn’t even in the room to hear his clever insults. 

In the gloomy light, the bright blue gem of the arc reactor shines back at you like a precious jewel. If you didn’t know better, you’d think you were wearing jewelry fit for royalty. 

"I like this upgrade on the watch. It’s pretty.”

"Not a watch," Miguel corrects, but he's not scolding you. The fondness in his voice is plainly there. 

Looking up you meet his eyes to see the open affection that's there for you. Your face warms under his unwavering attention, until you have to duck your head down, unable to hold his gaze anymore. 

You reach over the bed, to busy yourself, bypassing the golden donut to pick up one of the plain cinnamon ones. In the corner of your eye, you catch his lips curve into a smile as you take a large bite of the regular-non-golden donut. 

He would gloat about that, wouldn’t he, the overgrown childish brat. You grin around the mouthful, as the sugar melts onto the tip of your tongue and you moan loudly at the perfect warm cinnamon that floods your senses. 

Miguel is still smiling at you warmly, face propped in his broad hand as he watches you eat, and the heat in your face reaches an almost feverish pitch under his gaze. 

"So what's next?" you force yourself to ask him over a muffled mouthful to distract yourself. 

"Get some rest, sleep in. We'll take this for a few test drives in the morning to make sure it works the way it's supposed to, and then I'll take you to my home world."

There's a jittery sensation. A mix of exhilaration, excitement and anxiety blending with the sugar in your stomach at the unknown that waits before you. Even though you knew this day was coming since your visit at Wong, now that the time has come you're nervous. 

The only world you’ve ever known is your own. You’re hardly an intrepid traveler. During your gap year in Europe, the use of the metric system was a culture shock for you. You can't even begin to imagine what it'll be like to travel to another alternate reality.

But you’re going to have to do it—and keep doing it, if Wong is correct.

Will you need to get a whole new wardrobe to fit in with the fashion trends of each universe? Will you have to learn new languages? Will there be a thousand sets of unfamiliar customs and quirks you’ll have to learn to adapt to? 

…Will Miguel be there for any of it?

Biting down on your lip, you try to stave off the tight knot in your stomach. 

One thing that's become clear is that even if Miguel takes you to his world, you won’t be able to stay there for very long. You aren’t going to be able to stay anywhere for very long. 

Even if he intends to give you Lyla for good or build you another device that allows you to jump from world to world... what then?

Will he come with you? 

Or will you be left to travel by yourself from one unknown world to another?

The loneliness of that fate makes your stomach hurt. You’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t admit that you want him to come with you more than anything, but you have no right to ask that of him. Not after everything he’s already done for you. 

Like he can read your mind, Miguel gives you an appraising look.

"Once we're in Nueva York, we'll stay there for as long as it's safe," Miguel says, leaning across your lap to snag a donut from the box next to you for himself, and you try to ignore the heat that goes skittering through your leg when his arm brushes past your knee. "Then we'll jump to the next location."

You watch him scarf the cinnamony treat down in two mouthfuls, barely chewing. Your heart leaps excitedly until it jumps all the way to your throat. 

"We?"

He grins, crumbs of caramelized sugar dotted on the curve of his lips. "I can't leave you by yourself, can I?"

Your mouth opens and closes, then opens again and you leave it there, hanging in the air, probably looking incredibly dumb and speechless. 

You don’t know what to say to him. Don’t think there are adequate words in the English dictionary capable of expressing how happy it makes you to know that you’ll have him by your side. 'Thank you' seems incredibly lacking.

Somehow despite that you are both sitting down, he still dwarfs you and from your seated position you barely come up to his shoulders. You don’t quite know why you do it, but you move before you think, getting to your knees to lean up and place a small kiss on his cheek. 

A faint pink tinges his cheeks at the small contact. Then it’s his turn to duck down. He scoots over, bringing the smaller donut box closer to you. 

"Eat your golden donut," he says.

You peer up at him. The way his mouth pulls into a tiny and almost shy smile, and happiness buzzes in your chest at the sight.

A dopey smile spreads across your cheeks as you watch him. The way he rubs one broad hand over his jaw to hide his reddening face from you.

Taking the box from him, you look down at the shiny pastry. If your words are failing you, maybe food can speak for you instead. You pick up the golden donut in your hand and hold it out to him.

“You go first,” you offer.

There’s not a second of hesitation from Miguel. He leans down and takes a large bite of the gilded pastry, fangs first, puncturing the soft, squishy dough. 

The whole thing bursts, and you squeal with laughter as the champagne flavored jelly filling squirts across his bottom lip, onto your fingers and drips onto the sheets below. 

“Miguel, you’re making a complete mess!”

You lick up the sticky jam from your fingers as you watch him. There’s dust of gold smudging against his cheeks and even on his nose as he takes another bite. You’re tittering with amusement at the sight of him. 

“Here you got some–” you bring your thumb to help him wipe at the corner of his mouth.

For a man who doesn’t like casual touches, sneering even at the idea of handshakes as a greeting at work, he doesn’t seem to mind yours.

Miguel lets you rub off the flecks of gold from his cheek, eyes dropping half-closed in contentment. His jaw moves under your hand as his mouth drops open, then he presses his lips to the inside of your palm. 

It’s a barely there touch, but it has warmth furl from the middle of your stomach and blooms outward, spreading to the rest of you. 

In this gigantic Wyoming king-sized bed, Miguel is seated close enough to you that your knees touch. He’s close. So close that you can feel the heat rolling off of his big body.

Somehow that's not close enough, because you close the remaining distance between you, until your knee is pressed against the firm inside of his thigh, his broad shoulders brush against yours. 

It wouldn’t take much now. If you leaned up at this moment. If you tilted your head upwards even slightly. Your lips would be on his.  

You shouldn’t, the small voice in your head warns. Kissing him is probably not a good idea.

He might not feel the same. Kissing him might change something irreparably between you, and then who will you travel the outer limits of the universe with? 

But... if you're going to die tomorrow or the next day or next week, then what does it all matter anyhow? What’s a little bit of rejection when the end of the world is hiding right behind the next corner. 

You tilt up and press your lips to his top lip, then the full lower one. It’s chaste and brief, and only lasts for a second. But for a first time it’s familiar and intimate in a way that it can only be with you and Miguel. 

His lips are warm and dry and slightly open under the press of yours and it sends a fluttering warmth from the tip of your nose to the end of your fingertips. 

You pull back with the tiniest movement, nose still brushing against his, as you gather the courage to look up at his face and try to find out if you just made a terrible mistake. 

Those scarlet eyes are staring down at you in that familiar way you catch him doing sometimes. When he thinks you're not paying attention to him and his eyes lingers on your face.

His thumb catches behind your ear, face inching closer, and then he’s kissing you back. It’s sweet and electric, the sensation surges through you with a giddiness that makes your toes curl. 

Miguel presses his lips to yours and holds you there. Long consecutive kisses that don't let you pull up for air. His other hand gently cups your face, thumb stroking the apple of your cheeks like you’re the most precious thing his big hands has ever held. 

You want this to last, that it could always be like this. You want it to be you and him. 

This man who brings you cupcakes when you’re crying. Who saves you the best portion of the food that he likes even though he’s a glutton. Who folds you paper flowers and leaves them on your desk to make you smile when you’re having a bad day at work. A man who stays by your side through the end of the world and never asks you for anything in return.

You love him. 

One large hand covers the back of your neck. He tilts you back, like he’s trying to shield and protect you as he holds you. Holds you like he’s never going to let go. 

Then he stops. 

Why is he stopping? 

He stiffens above you, the whole of his back tensing. You chase his lips but he is already pulling back and away from you. 

Your eyes open to the muted darkness of the room. 

In front of you, Miguel is looking at you with an expression you can't pin down. Eyes wide, and distracted. For a terrifying moment, you think that the look on his face is one of regret. 

Maybe he realized he doesn’t feel that way about you after all. Maybe he's trying to find a way to let you down gently.

You pull back and study his face.

No… it’s not that. 

His expression is the same distant look he had two seconds before a helicopter crashed into your apartment. The same tension in his eyes that will have him hauling you into his arms to protect you from a rogue vehicle. The same pinch in his brow when he’ll stop a conversation with you mid-sentence because the ceiling is about to cave in and he needs to push you out of harm’s way. 

Something is wrong. 

A cold sliver of fear crawls up your spine as Miguel’s face turns, and he stares into the empty space of the room beyond the bed. 

There’s speck of pink spilling onto the sheets on your lap like the color of the sun on stained glass from the outside. 

You follow his gaze in the direction of the radiant dusk pouring in from the window. 

It’s too bright for one A.M, enough to be blinding. 

Pulling away the quilt from your body, you slide out of bed and walk towards the brightness pouring in from the outside until you’re standing in front of the wide glass panes of the balcony.

You look up at the sky, and it’s not the familiar calm midnight-blue. There are vivid streaks of fluorescent pink and glowing purple staining the sky. There are fractures in the sky like someone took a sledge hammer to it and cracked it wide open.

The cityscape looks like it is folding onto itself. Skyscrapers, bridges, and streets are contorted and warped like badly-folded origami. The impossible architecture reminds you of a M.C Escher painting you saw on a school trip at MoMA as a child.

Outside, the pavements of New York is mirrored where the sky is supposed to be. Silhouettes of skyscrapers spring out from below and above and the vast sky is wedged between. Up is down and down is up and nothing makes sense anymore. 

You've seen this scene take place before, when you were under Wong's multidimensional spell.

Your universe is starting to collapse. 

The end of the world is here. You’ve officially run out of time. 

~ Next Issue

Dedications & Credits:

To @guruan for her endless kindness and incredibly talented. I cannot thank her enough for the art she gifts me with that constantly inspires my little squirrel brain and drives me to write like I am possessed.

And @thirstworldproblemss my babe, my bestie, my moose! Thank you for always being there with your pretty face!! I adore and love you, our friendship and time together brings me endless joy. Thank you for going on this ride with me.

[phntmeii]

♡ Dating Robb Stark Headcanons:

❝ How am I supposed to sit here planning a war, when you're over there looking like that? ❝

[SFW + No Gendered Terms]

☆ A/N: Absolutely re-fell in love w this lovesick man while writing this istg aaa!!! I’ll do some of the other characters from the poll from a few days ago but feel free to request other characters or specific situations with characters!

☆» Firstly, Robb is going to fall into either Friends to Lovers trope or Love at First Sight trope. I cannot see him falling into anything like an Enemies to Lovers trope because he wants someone he feels has a mutual respect for him as he would for you.

☆» He probably won't be the one to notice that he's fallen in love but his family instead. Jon would notice how Robb's eyes immediately light up and dart to you when you walk into the room. Those blue eyes of his are SPARKLING!!

☆» This would lead to playful teasing from his family in regards to you. Light nudges to Robb's side, gesturing toward you, asking you different questions (sometimes about Robb) all to embarrass him.

☆» Robb has a preference for someone who he can genuinely respect. Hardworking, hardheaded, perhaps a bit stubborn and independent. All of these qualities have him practically on his knees on sight.

☆» Speaking of his family, Catelyn would be in LOVE with you if Robb takes a liking to you. Like, Robb is her bby boy and she would love to encourage him to chase after this crush he's developed.

☆»Robb absolutely goes to her for advice on how to talk to his love interest in a way that'll get them to like him.

☆» Robb looks up to his own parents and their connection. He's always wanted to have their level of a bond and so trust and believe he is trying to be the ultimate honorable gentleman that Ned would want him to be.

☆» You'll end up noticing Robb being around more often but watching from a ways away. It's not in a creepy way but in a shy "Seven Hells... How am I meant to speak to them when I can't even approach them???"

☆» He takes things slow to not scare you off even if his feelings for you are quite big and overtaking his mind. He's always respectful of boundaries and would never dare presume how far he can take an interaction. He never wants you to feel uncomfortable around him.

☆» He takes an interest in your hobbies and interests. He thinks that it'll be easier to bond with you so he goes out of his way to pick up on whatever you like.

☆»You're an artist? Suddenly he's learning different techniques and learning how to discuss/critique artwork. You're interested in reading? He's SPEEDING through your favorite books to discuss them with you.

☆» Once in a relationship, he's an absolute sweetheart when it comes to you. I mean this man is IN LOVE and it's incredibly obvious to everyone by how his eyes look at you.

☆» Trust and believe this man is incredibly protective over you. Not only do you have The Young Wolf of the North to protect you but his actual direwolf, Grey Wind as well!

☆» Grey Wind becomes your defense when the wolf notices how much Robb cares for you. He'll often be at the foot of the bed, keeping his eyes to the door to watch for danger. He'll walk beside you at your side and watch for any suspicious behavior as well.

☆» Robb's Main Love Languages to give are: Words of Affirmation and Quality Time.

☆» Robb is a massive fan of complimenting you and tell you how much he admires you. (Big W for any praise kinks out there)

☆» Whispering sweet nothings in the mornings, complimenting your looks once you’ve dressed for the day(especially if you’re wearing typical Stark clothing if you aren’t from the North), parading how lucky he is to have you return his feelings, etc. This man does not stfu about how lovely you are.

☆» Lays his head in your lap and caresses your cheek while telling you in detail how lovely each part of your face is for him. Your eyes, your nose, your lips, your cheeks—Everything. He’s head over heels.

☆» He would want to be near you all the time and will often drag you along to show off a skill of his.

☆» Cue Jon tryharding against Robb during sparring sessions in the hopes to embarrass him in front of you bc he thinks it’s funny.

☆» Robb plans cute dates at least 1-2 a week. It wouldn’t have to be anything fancy or anything but he wants designated time to be with you.

☆» Something as simple as being in the Godswood to have quiet time with you and just talk for hours. He loses all track of time when he’s with you.

☆» Robb’s Favorite Love Languages to receive are: Quality Time and Gift Giving.

☆» Similarly to himself, he wants you to want to spend time with him. Going to see him for small visits throughout the day absolutely makes it better.

☆» He can be prone to stress as the eldest son and one day heir to Winterfell so knowing he has someone he can count on to be there means a lot.

☆» Now in terms of Gift Giving, this does NOT mean expensive gifts. I mean sporadically bringing Robb different items that you thought he would cherish.

☆» The idea that you thought about him makes his heart swell and flutter.

☆» Like present him a flower that you found because you thought it to be beautiful and he now keeps it in his room and makes sure it’s tended to so it lives for as long as possible.

☆» ESPECIALLY IF ITS SOMETHING YOU MADE?????

☆» Even if it isn’t top quality, he will cherish it forever because it’s the fact that you spent time on doing something for him that makes him so happy!!

☆» He would absolutely brag about what you made for him and tell everyone that he has the best partner for it.

⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune

[etoilesbienne]

while i still stand by the concept that i think this reset is overall good for the server, the new capitalism system is driving me up the wall. if its supposed to be to make things more accessible to players who log in less, they really need to make it so the shops are optional and not the only way to obtain the items. if items are already a pain in the ass to get and are therefore better quality: that is fine. that's how game mechanics work. disabling high tier weapons because theyre op is one thing, but disabling hard to obtain high tier weapons, only to make them obtainable solely through the shop, is an issue. that doesn't incentivize gameplay, that incentivizes repetitive coin grinding. this is just making the difference between the sweats of the server and casuals even more stark.

the waystones are their own can of worms entirely, players cant pick them up. you can only buy them through the store. this means players... uh can't actually pick up purchased waystones they've already placed. making warpstones cost 2k coins is also an issue, it just sets it up for /only/ the grinding sweats to have access to an item solely exists to make the server accessible and convenient. i also don't know if others are aware, but by default the waystone mod does not cost anything at all. the cost feature was always an implementation done by administration. i genuinely do not get what the deal is with waystones theyre made to make servers more convenient. nobody wants to watch a 2 hour stream of someone slowly walking to other people's bases. its annoying! and it isn't like waystones are cheap to make, they all cost 4 ender pearls each, and on a server with not even the nether open currently to access a warped forest, much less the end, that's expensive as hell.

backpacks are their own deal i can't even get into. theyre a conveniency tool. barring anything over iron is wild and kinda dumb.

[ageofevermore]

NEW YORK CITY STREETS

REQUEST — enemies to lovers with either wanda or natasha with new avenger reader, where wanda/natasha for whatever reason just doesn’t trust reader and is wary of her? maybe they think reader isn’t who she says she is while the rest of the avengers just happily accept r, so wanda/natasha try to catch reader in a lie or something?

WARNINGS — mentions of homelessness, anxiety, vomiting, nat being a bit too guarded and convincing herself dreykovs found her, somewhat of a rocky ending because i wrote this in one session

AUTHORS NOTE — i got so carried away with this and tried to reel it back in toward the end but, i like to think after this event wanda and natasha basically become readers parents lol

You were given the hundredth floor when Tony Stark had personally recruited you after clashing on the battlefield dressed in a sheer ski mask and fraying black zip-up hoodie. Your personal disguise hadn’t been much of a disguise with its many holes and thin fabric, but nobody really paid enough attention to your vigilante persona to figure you out. That was before you’d met Natasha Romanoff and her shadow of a girlfriend, Wanda Maximoff. The pair was as equally enthralled with you as they were unamused, and it seemed at every corner one or both of them was working out a way to deconstruct everything you built.

Avengers tower was always warm, even with the windows open welcoming the breeze of winter and the air conditioner dialed down to sixty-five on the second setting from highest. You supposed it was your subconscious way of making luxury feel cheap, connecting you to the streets that you’d grown up on. If nobody had walked in your shoes, they wouldn’t be able to comprehend how you ached for the uncomfortable sidewalks beneath your head at night or the scent of trash lingering around you, particularly pungent toward the end of the week before trash collection when discarded ingredients had marinated in themselves for days. You’d traded homelessness for lavish living in minutes, but still you felt empty, like you didn’t belong here nor there. Wanda and Natasha saw your feelings for what they weren’t. They noticed your every weakness and somehow decided that instead of being homesick to a place that wasn’t really your own anyway, you were working them. That you were the enemy. Not a teenage girl who’d crossed paths with the wrong people at the wrong time and it had left you a mutant with healing powers and the ability to absorb the strength from people around you rather than an orphan with pale skin and no family. You could be both of those things at the same time, and for three years you had been, but to them, in their eyes, you had to pick a path. Your identity couldn’t be one or the other.

Pepper had pulled you away from the solidarity of your floor for a team meeting. It had been weeks since Tony had recruited you, and for the most part, you stuck to yourself. The team had seen you on various occasions, but for nothing longer than a few minutes before the judgemental stares became too invalidating and you surrendered to your quarters for quiet. Quiet that you despised. Quiet that let you sit in all of the wrongdoings that had been imparted on you without your consent. You supposed, that in a way, Avengers tower was just like the streets of New York City. You were judged and outcast all the same, with high-quality satin sheets and water pressure that could melt your skin off with enough time beneath the shower head, or with just the night sky above your head as a ceiling. The people weren’t different, the places were.

“It’s mandatory.” Pepper had told you when you’d first declined her offer at joining the team in the common area for a relaxed evening. You’d heard through the grapevine that every so often the Avengers gathered together for dinner and conversation, admittedly a way to reground them. Remind them that although they’re earth's mightiest heroes, they’re still human.

“I’m not a part of the team.” You’d responded, not meeting Pepper’s eye. You couldn’t handle the way she looked at you. Not when her eyes were full of so much empathy and pity that it made you feel like glass. She could look right through everything you built and find a scared teenage girl at your center without knowing you at all. That scared you. She scared you more than Natasha and Wanda ever could, because while she saw a real person, they saw a treat. An enemy. And you would rather be taken for the worst then seen for what you always tried not to be. Real. If you were real it meant that your parents really did choose to abandon you. If you were real it meant that everything that had happened to you in seventeen years was unfortunate and equally undeserved. It was better to just exist as a vigilante in the night then as Y/N.

“You’ve been a part of this team since you stopped a bomb before it could detonate at Tony’s feet. Don’t let Natasha and Wanda rattle you, they were in your shoes not that long ago.”

Stunned, you hadn’t been able to find the words to respond. How had she known? And if she was aware that Natasha and Wanda were bothering you, did they know too? Were they annoyed? Would they hurt you for stirring chaos and problems where it didn’t need to be. This was their home. They’d been through hell enough times over to make your pathetic life look like a dream.

“Why did he pick me.” You choked out, before Pepper could leave your doorway and enter the elevator to leave you alone.

Pepper smiled a smile that was so maternal it made your insides feel queasy. You didn’t deserve this. You’d just been in the wrong place at the right time. “You jumped into an active warzone without a weapon. You are the only reason that Clint’s not seriously injured. You’re reckless, Y/N. But you’re reckless because you have a good heart. That’s the only thing that makes any of them an Avenger, with or without powers and serums.” Y/N. Pepper was the only one who called you that. Kid seemed to float around your head for anyone to grab at. You weren’t sure if hearing your name was grounding or a new reason for you to spiral with a deep-seeded feeling of weightlessness.

Pepper and Tony were the only ones you’d really had a conversation with since the latter had offered you residence and training at the Tower. Steve had tried a handful of times, but you were elusive out of habit to let him in, and settling into this life wasn’t easy despite that it should have been. You should be jumping for joy to have a roof over your head, and a shower to bathe in, and food to eat that’s not spoiled or out of a garbage bag. There are a lot of things that you should be feeling, but all you can place in the pit of your stomach is a sense of displacement and a very sickening amount of nerves.

“I’ll be up in ten.” You promised, shutting your eyes tightly. You could do this. You patrolled the streets of New York city in leggings and a hoodie for gods sake (it crossed your mind to start saying thors sake, for obvious mildly funny reasons, but you squandered that joke the second it crossed your mind), you could survive a few hours with the Avengers. Besides, it was the least you could do to show Tony that although feeling misplaced and unwelcome, you did appreciate his faith in you, even if you didn’t understand it. He’d been the only one in your life to ever have any positive feelings about you. Losing it now would feel worse than this.

Pepper snickered, eyes light with an emotion she saved for Tony. “You’ll be up in five. I wouldn’t keep Nat waiting any longer if I were you.”

With wide eyes you nodded. This could only go a handful of ways and every outcome you could imagine ended with you feeling worse inside, but you wouldn’t let her and Tony down.

-

There was a buzz in the air that felt familiar to the streets of New York City. It wasn’t as loud, wasn’t as energetic, wasn’t rooted in happiness that same way it would’ve been if you’d been on the streets watching tourists and college students turn the night young like them, but it felt similar enough to put you at the slightest bit of ease. Maybe tonight wouldn’t go as horribly as you anticipated. Maybe you’d come to an understanding with your new mentors.

Dread still filled your belly, but you pushed it down as best as you could manage. Coming tonight wasn’t an option, Pepper had made that clear without saying as much, so with or without your negative feelings you’d have to show your face instead of hiding around a corner.

“We can see your feet, kid.” A new voice called, and although it was light and filled entirely with amusement and not anger, it made you tense. Three deep breaths in were all you had time for before Tony was coming to pull you away from your hiding spot and dragging you over toward the multiple couches and setting arrangements that were almost entirely full with heroes dressed in casual wear. This image of them was so vulnerable. They weren’t assassins and spies here, they were just people, human just like you.

“Kid, you’ve met Wigglywoo, Capsicle, and Bl- uh, Natasha,” Tony had all intentions of calling Natasha some fabricated nickname he’d thought up after too many hours in the lab, but had thought twice about it upon seeing her unamused glare that dripped venom. Under different circumstances, you would’ve let a smile pull at your lips, but instead it just amplified the nerves you were barely handling. “This is Bucky, Legolas, Hawkeye Jr, Underoos, and Maria, she’s not as scary as she tries to be.” Tony’s words had an easy way about them, but it didn’t make you feel any better. Especially not with how closely Maria was sitting to Natasha, and how both of them seemed to be pulling you apart with their eyes. Wanda was no better, but Hawkeye Jr and Underoos (who you knew were really just Kate and Peter) seemed welcoming, bright smiles on their lips telling you as much. “Everyone, this is the kid.”

Pepper rolled her eyes, “Her names Y/N.”

You waved shyly, cheeks a brilliant shade of red. You could feel your heartbeat in your palms, but you pulled the slightest bit of strength from Tony and hoped it would be enough to get you through the night. Wanda seemed to be able to sense your use of powers, and her eyes flashed a threatening hue of scarlet that only you noticed. Pulling your arms tightly around your midsection, you shrunk into yourself and let Tony lead you farther into the room, where you found a space to sit on the far end of a white leather couch, as far away from Natasha and her girlfriend that you’d be able to get, and running distance from an emergency exit to your left. So far, things were not off to a great start.

“So kid,” You assumed it was Clint who spoke, dismantling the static that was filling your head, but your eyes were so unfocused and your belly was so tight, you could only pay so much attention to what was happening around you, and as a result, you weren’t really sure who was talking to you. “Why don’t you tell us about yourself? Ya know, something other than the fact that you wandered onto a battlefield and healed my ass.”

“Oh, um, there isn’t really much.” You said nervously, biting at the skin around your nails that was already raw and thin from how badly you’d been picking at it since moving in. Earth’s mightiest heroes weren’t exactly inviting, no matter what most kids your age believed. These people were heroes, inspirations for a wide variation of generations, but they were proving to be your undoing, even if Kate and Peter were trying to make you feel welcome with their open posture and warm smiles.

“There’s got to be something.” Kate prodded, leaning back on the couch with amusement dancing in her blue eyes. You could feel the heavy emotions around you, no thanks to your enhanced abilities, and the thick aroma of judgment was making you queasy. “Peter thinks you stole a cop scanner and that's how you found it.” She threw her friend under the bus, earning a few chuckles and a deep groan from the spider.

“Um, I was already patrolling the area.” You meekly announced, lowering your hand from your mouth when the taste of blood became too much. Heightened senses sucked sometimes. If you were being honest, they sucked most times.

“I thought you were from Queens. What were you doing in Manhattan?” Natasha quizzed. Even if you hadn’t seen her lips move, too distracted by how Wanda’s fingers were wiggling and the softest hue of scarlet was tangling between her extremities, you knew it was the assassin who had spoken. She was the only one who seemed interested in dismantling your every word. Her tone was biting, as cold as the streets of New York City in winter and you were without thermals or a coat. Another similarity, you’d note.

“I move around alot.” You offered simply, looking at her nervously, afraid that not making eye contact at all would convince her you’d been lying. She would think that either way.

“Aren’t you seventeen?” Steve questioned, though his tone was less inquisitive, more genuine. It didn’t help you to feel anymore at ease though, already anticipating how Wanda and Natasha could spin your response to fit the narrative they already had of you. “Aren’t you in school?” He followed up when you nodded, anxiety curdling in the back of your throat like sour milk. You felt like you were going to puke.

“Um, no?” The squeak in your voice only aided in your downfall, and you could see the gears turning in everyone's head as you announced that you weren’t enrolled in school. Even Kate and Peter attended school still, NYU and Midtown High were the best of the best, and even with Avenging they could fit it into their schedules.

“Why not?”

You were going to puke. You knew that as easily as you knew that Natasha was constructing a narrative of you that was entirely wrong. Sputtering for words, you stood from the couch abruptly, and as you did so, the assassin stood as well, challenging you to take a step forward. You were trapped. You were helpless. The buzz that had been filling the atmosphere evaporated as easily as it was formed, and it wasn’t hard to identify the edge in all of their postures, awaiting the next move and wondering who would strike first. It wouldn’t be you.

Bile was rising in your throat steadily, and the clench in your stomach was becoming worse, but you couldn’t move. Not with Natasha ready to pounce, not with Maria’s glare, not with scarlet filling Wanda’s eyes for everyone to notice. This was bad. This was so so bad and all you wanted was to undo ever stepping foot on that battlefield and helping them, helping Tony and Clint, helping anymore. Anytime you tried to help something worse happened. You were in over your head here. You weren’t a hero, you were just a homeless screw up with powers that even biological parents couldn’t love.

“Who do you work for.” Natasha demanded, and if the atmosphere was tense before, it was armed now. Even without weapons, you felt like with one wrong move you’d be shot dead.

“W-What.” You stuttered, your already pale complexion becoming green as sickness was getting closer and closer. You scrambled to find an exit, knowing the one to your left would be a horrible play as Clint inched closer to the end of his seat ready to stop you from fleeing if it came to it. In three minutes, a civil team meeting had turned into an interrogation that could end your life. You were stupid to accept Tony’s offer. You were stupid to leave your room. You were stupid to think that having powers and an advantage against ordinary criminals in New York City meant that you weren’t still worthless. You should’ve never helped that first night. You should've never continued to help after that. You were in over your head. You were just a kid. A kid that nobody wanted. A kid that nobody trusted.

“Who. Do. You. Work. For.” Natasha repeated.

You tried to warn them that you were about to be sick. That you couldn’t push it off any longer, that you needed a bathroom, or a sink, or even a bowl, but before the warning could pass your lips you were puking all over yourself and the floor, eyes welling with tears of humiliation and pure fear. You were terrified, and it wafted around you in heavy waves. You knew Peter could feel it, his spidey-sense similar to how your own powers worked, but you were too embarrassed to open your eyes and look at any of them. Too frozen to even wipe the vomit from your chin. The sinking feeling of embarrassment didn’t last for much longer, and your knees that had been locked for who knows how long gave out, and you were falling over and into a room of black emptiness, not conscious to notice the guilt that seemed to be creeping up Natasha’s neck as she really got a look at you. As she realized, maybe she’d let her past cloud her judgment. As for the first time ever, she looked at you and saw a kid who was just trying to help. A kid who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

-

When you came too, it wasn’t in the common area, and it wasn’t in your room. Panic spread through your body, and you shot upright to identify your surroundings. The bed was uncomfortable, two plastic guardrails on either side the first hint that you were in medical. Your eyes didn’t wander much farther then the bed before a voice was breaking apart the static in your head. It was a voice you’d heard before, but in a tone so soft it felt new.

“You’re in medical. You fainted.” Natasha was sitting off to your right, with Wanda at her side, both wearing expressions of sympathy and embarrassment. The former, had guilt shining in her watercolor eyes, hands clasped together in her lap to voice her resigned position in a way that words couldn’t. Leaving her hands together, gave her the lowerhand when it came to defending herself. In her own sick way, she was making you aware of the fact that she’d been wrong.

“I-I, I’m not, I don’t, I don’t work for a-anyone.” You spluttered to make that clear, to feel safe in your own skin again because so easily she’d made you feel like maybe you were the enemy.

“I know.” She said softly, “We know, Y/N.” The use of your name on her lips felt wrong, but you allowed her to continue. “Wanda and I, are ledgers are dripping with red. Our pasts are haunting, and… and the people we worked for aren’t known for just letting things go. We’re sorry- I’m sorry for letting that fear cloud my judgment. After you fainted, um, Tony gave me your file to read. He hadn’t shared it with us before. Before shield fell, they’d been keeping tabs on you, making a portfolio to see if you were deemed a threat. I’m sorry I didn’t let you form that image on your own.”

You knew apologies, especially ones as vulnerable and heartfelt as the one Natasha was currently giving you, wasn’t easy for her. You knew enough about her past to know that these moments of transparency were very few and far between, and you could recognize, that for this single moment, she was allowing herself to be as see through as glass. With only a few words you could shatter her, but you saw her genuinity. You saw how horribly she felt, even if she was capable of faking every emotion perfectly. For some reason, you trusted that this was real. That you weren’t dealing with the Black Widow now, or even Natasha Romanoff, this was real. For this single moment with you, she was letting herself be Natalia. She was showing you how vulnerable and traumatized she’d become after everything that had happened to her. For the first time, you could see yourself in her.

“It’s okay.”

Wanda shook her head, sokovian accent thicker than the walls you’d built from years on the streets of New York City cold and afraid, “It isn’t alright. The way we treated you, Pietro would be appalled.” Speaking of her brother wasn’t easy, but Wanda was kind enough to give you the same transparency Natasha was giving you. They were sorry, and they meant it with everything in them. “We hope that you can let us grow from this. Um, Nat and I were thinking, maybe you’d like to move onto our floor? After Ultron, being alone felt weird. I had always had Pietro. I had always had noise and cold cement cells and satin sheets and quiet, it made my head spin. Um, if you want, we really want to get to know you. Outside of your vigilante persona, outside of your file. We’d like to start over, if that’s okay with you.”

A smile, a genuine smile, pulled at your lips at the full transparency and responsibility they were showing you. And, for the first time, their watercolor eyes didn’t send a chill of fear down your bones. For the first time, you could see a future for yourself in Avengers tower. And maybe, you’d find friendships and teammates too.

[rookiesbookies]

Greek God!Price x MaidenFem!Reader pt 2

Masterlist is pinned as always and please submit any requests to my inbox I dont bite

She had always been nervous around men, in her village they had always seemed rude and misogynist. Women were a commodity, their value based on purity and age. But Price was different. He treated her with respect and tenderness, making her feel safe and cherished. It was a new experience for her, and she couldn't help but feel nervous about it.

As she lay there, wide awake, she couldn't help but notice Price's movements in his sleep. He had gone from a respectful distance to spooning her side, his warm body pressed against hers. It was both comforting and unsettling at the same time.

She had agreed to spend the night in his bed, a decision that made her anxious. Changing in his master bathroom, she had put on one of his white undershirts that barely covered her upper-mid thigh. She worried about him seeing her exposed, about her own vulnerability in this unfamiliar situation.

The clock on the wall ticked away, reminding her of the late hour. She shivered, feeling the coldness of the room seep into her bones. Despite Price's warm body heat and the thick blankets, she couldn't find comfort. Her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of her nipples showing through the shirt or the possibility of her underwear being revealed.

But amidst her restlessness, she couldn't help but appreciate Price's gentle and kind nature. It was a stark contrast to her past experiences with the men who had tried to court her - often older and looking for a young housewife to act as a slave due to their wealth. She found herself slowly letting go of her fears and embracing the unfamiliar warmth that he offered.

Price stood out among the men she had encountered. He possessed a genuine gentlemanly demeanor that made her wonder if all gods were like him.

As her mind aimlessly drifted, she couldn't help but become fixated on Price's physique. Questions began to swirl in her thoughts, particularly about what lay beneath that thick sweater he now slept in. Were his muscles well-defined, sculpted from hours of hard work and dedication? Or were they hidden beneath a layer of softness, adding a touch of comfort to his appearance? The curiosity grew stronger, fueling her imagination as she envisioned the possibilities. It was a tantalizing mystery, one that she couldn't help but ponder, wondering if one day she would have the chance to uncover the truth.

As her mind wandered, it delved even deeper into his physical attributes, specifically focusing on what he possessed between his legs. Questions arose about its thickness, length, girth, and whether it was thin or substantial. She pondered whether he preferred a clean-shaven look or if his hair was coarse yet well-maintained, similar to his facial hair. Curiosity arose about the presence of freckles and whether it leaned towards one direction or the other. She wondered if it was pale or tan, what color the tip was. These thoughts consumed her mind, leaving her with a multitude of unanswered questions.

Her cheeks flushed with warmth as she realized the direction her thoughts were taking. It felt criminal. It was inappropriate to think of a man in such a way, especially someone like Price who was so sweet and such a gentleman. She began to question her own feelings towards him, fearing that she might be falling for a man who deserved a woman equally as remarkable to be his eternal partner. She pondered the qualities that would make a woman worthy of Price's affection. Would she need to possess extraordinary beauty, intelligence, or perhaps a combination of both?

The weight of her own self-doubt began to settle upon her, as she questioned whether she could ever measure up to the standards she imagined Price had. Perhaps he was waiting for some magic spark to ignite, maybe Eros to strike them with arrows to let him know it was meant to be or a letter hand-written from Aphrodite or Hera with approval. Something he seemingly so desired based on his adamant refusal of the other sacrificial women he considered for brides. He even said it himself, he wanted someone closer to his physical age to keep for an eternity as a partner, not just a wife.

Lost in her thoughts, she yearned for a sign, a glimpse into Price's true nature. She longed to know if he was as extraordinary as he appeared, or if her infatuation was merely a figment of her imagination, the facade of a god. Only time would reveal the answers she sought, and until then, she would continue to question her own worthiness of a god like Price.

He shifted again in his sleep, pulling her closer. His beard tickling against her neck, he took a deep breath. She couldn't help but think about the advice her friends had given her as a teenager. They had told her that men could determine if they wanted to marry a girl by the end of their first date. As she lay there, she wondered if the dinner they had just shared counted as a date. Did it hold any significance or was it just a casual outing with his friends? Her mind raced as she rubbed her legs together and nervously bit her lip. Being in such close proximity with a man was a new experience for her.

Suddenly, he began to stir in his sleep, a soft grunt escaping his mouth. Startled, she realized he was awake. "Why aren't you asleep?" he questioned, his voice filled with curiosity. "Humans need a good deal of sleep compared to us gods."

Her heart skipped a beat as she tried to come up with a response. "I... I couldn't sleep," she stammered, her voice barely audible. "I guess I'm just not used to... this."

He looked at her intently, his eyes filled with understanding. "It's okay," he said softly, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair behind her ear. "We can take things slow. There's no rush."

As he held her close, she felt a warm and comforting feeling, giving her hope for a happy future. Could this amazing man be the one she would marry? And, by some lucky chance, did he really understand her deepest desires?

Finally, she drifted into a peaceful slumber, feeling a sense of tranquility and optimism. The man she had discovered, whom she might be falling in love with, had filled her heart with hope and affection. The thought of marrying him brought her immense joy and contentment. He was truly remarkable, and she could only wish that he felt the same way about her. Thankfully, it seemed like he did, and that realization filled her with even more happiness.

[jaylleoo14]

An Octopus First Impression II

part I

His first proper introduction and your "first" impression

>GN!ReaderxAzul

A/N: This is starting off right where it was finished so please check out part I first to get better context ^3^ And yes, this one is much longer

[disclaimer] A certain someone can't take a damn genuine compliment 🙄 (okay but understandable)

[characters] Azul & a little of a jesting Jade

In all honesty, you knew who Azul was. Who didn't know the dorm leaders when they are the most prominent leading representational figures in each dorm? You've met some of them personally, getting to talk and spend time with them on not so irregular occasions. Sure you see them more than often compared to the others, but it differs and varies. It's usually expected for students to at least show some respect for the dorm leaders, I mean they are dorm leaders for a reason. Yet there really are some arrogant nobodies from time to time and it's only then the wrath of the dorm leader's power and authority gets put into action, reminding everyone just who they are messing with.

Azul was no exception. In your mind, he is a dorm leader, automatically making him more powerful than the average students here and has qualities fitting for this role.

There you sat with the poised man, sitting aside from you on your left as he sat with his back perfectly straight. His posture made you a bit self conscious so you fixed yourself up properly once you realized that your posture wasn't the best against the wooden back of the chair. Just by the way he was sitting and talking, the way he gestured and pointed, everything about him seemed to just radiate professionalism. The way he would explain terms or the events leading up to the main wars, what magic played into what part and so on.

How kind of Azul

Your thoughts are only interrupted for a moment when you think to yourself how kind Azul is, his willingness to help you with your studies. Once that thought is processed in your brain, it then goes back to listening and following along with Azul.

You nod along with his explanations, following where his pointer finger would end up on the pages and his little personal opinions of why things are the way they are.

"Hey Azul? How about we take a break? I feel like I kinda need it" A hand props up on your cheek as your posture goes back into a relaxed curve and your elbow propped on the table and you let out a little sigh. He continues to keep up with his prim sense of etiquette, pushing up the frames of his glasses.

"Why of course. I'm sure going over the material for about almost an hour straight must be daunting and draining for someone such as yourself. Though we'll get back into the lesson once 20 minutes has passed." He flashes a smile your way, a stark contrast to your more drained self.

Perhaps it was because this is the first time you and Azul have ever interacted with one another, but one of your first thoughts is rather if you'd prefer his tutoring or Riddles. As you consider it some more you think as of right now you'd rather stick with Azul because you're pretty sure Riddle is a bit fed up with you right now and you don't want to feel the pricks of the thorns from the rose.

"Hey Azul? Thanks so much for taking the time to help me out. I appreciate it" Clasping your hands as you stretch yourself out, he lets out an affirmation that it was no trouble at all.

There are a diverse set of students here at Night Raven College. To brute strength guys to the most pretty silver tongue guys out there. If it weren't for your careful judgment in knowing when and where to proceed you probably wouldn't have made it this far with your companion Grim by now. Pomifiore is known for its elegance, the dorm based on the tenacity of the Fairest Queen. The students residing there you'll see are full of fair skinned and perfect silky haired individuals, looking as if they are from the richest medieval fairytale books you'd read in dark romance.

You've never got the chance to properly look at Azul, the whole session's main focus being the studying part. So when you come to take in his features, you can't help but to take a moment and stare in awe at how handsome and dashing he was in an unobtrusive manner.

He's so pretty

The way his lips looked plush and prettily pink, is that his natural color? His eyes looked calculative and thinking, yet looking so enchanting. The mole diagonal under his lips, giving it a nice accent. Sure you've seen some fairly good looking people who don't belong in Pomifiore, but his fair clean and glistening skin and his perfect features could fool anyone into believing he was a part of that dorm if he were to wear the uniform. Vil will always be the fairest of them all, but something about Azul enraptured one's heart just as well. The tentacles pull at the heartstrings as it lays there beating in the grotto. His look almost humbling despite his beckoning alluringness, as if it could draw me into the depth of deep waters like a siren calling in passerby sailors.

"Prefect, may I ask why you were watching me during flight class?"

"What?" In real time, despite all these thoughts running in your head you could say that it lasted for only about a minute - which is long enough for him to be aware that you were clearly staring even if you were trying to be discreet about it.

You feel your cheeks turning a warm red, embarrassed by such a blunder. "Oh well, I mean I can't take flying classes so you know, whenever flight class is in session I'm usually in the back doing exercises. And during one of our joint sessions way back I saw a glimpse of you then"

"I see, what a terrible time to see me truly"

"haha, what do you mean? It was pretty f- ahem. I mean, I think despite not being the all time best at wielding the broom, your skills prove enough to pass the class"

"Don't think that I didn't catch what you were going to say '' A little scowl forms on his face and I cant help but to laugh a little instead of feeling intimidated.

"Sorry sorry. But at least you guys can ride the brooms, it looks fun." Your voice sounds a little left behind as you recall the memory. "Being magicless isn't all that great when everyone is in the air and you're the only one on the ground doing sit-ups"

A shiver runs up your spine just thinking back to Vargas impeccable-muscle brained shouts.

"As the kind hearted person I am I can say that I can sympathize with your situation prefect, i'm sure being magicless in an a magic-filled school has it's risks." Azul twists his upper body to face me, sharing indulgence in our conversation. "And as the benevolent man I am, my doors are always open thus you need any sort of assistance, I'd gladly like to help in any way possible"

He places those gloved hands of his on his chest to give off a welcoming presence, a charming smile to top it off.

How generous he is

"Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are Azul?"

Now it was Azul's turn to stumble. "What? Are you trying to ma-"

"Look I didn't mean to get you off guard like that, but I think you should just know that. Take my compliment as a thank you for your generosity."

Azul can only give you a suspicious look, as if you had some hidden intent or meaning to those words. His piercing gaze shooting you like a triton. It was a rather sudden change in topic, he cant help but assume something was up.

"You don't have to believe me, I'm just saying you're pretty jeez. Take a compliment will you? It's not everyday you get one"

Clearing his throat he straightened his posture which he didn't even realize faltered.

"Why then, thank you for the compliment, Prefect." Just barely a light hue of peachy pink can be seen on his ears, and you were right. It's not every day he gets compliments. Weird, why wouldn't he? He's so pretty.

Because this is an all boys school full of cocky bastards who can't compliment others genuinely for shit y/n. Of course, an inner sigh comes out.

"Why are you suddenly so awkward now?" A mirthful laughter springing passed my lips.

"I'm not being awkward in the slightest, perhaps you should be better at reading others before deducting a conclusion"

"Someone sounds defensive" You divert your eyes to look up to tone it as indirectness, leaning against the creaking wooden chair. 

“And someone thinks they are being rather cheeky”

“Haha, no way! It was just a simple compliment. Did you want me to start teasing you instead and genuinely not mean it?”

“If you think someone such as yourself could tease me then you’d be terribly mistaken. I’d say you’re acting rather comfortable with me if you can so easily say such a thing.” Tilting his head up as an artful smirk paints his face, perhaps to better describe it better; a machiavellian one as his lips pursue to open to speak. “Comfortable enough to even shamelessly stare at me. But I am pleased to know my physical appearance is to your liking, Prefect.”

“I think it's normal to stare at pretty things though.” A lighthearted chuckle fills the air around me and I share a similar smirk to his, only this one was painted as amusement and playfulness. “Were you thinking you had something on your face instead? That would be a little entertaining to see you freak over that, if I were to say.” 

He doesn't reciprocate the playfulness however and just shoots back a more stern face. “I see you are feeling rejuvenated enough to want to fool around now, I think that’s enough break time for you.” Readjusting his position he turns to flip the textbook page over and you can’t help but laugh a little.

He’s kinda funny

He’s smart

Almost endearing even

With a slight pout and a feigned whine you scoot up your chair to prop yourself better against the material laid table and lean in to ready yourself to listen and follow along with Azul. With your eye going back to their attentiveness on the book, darting back and forth to write and scribble in your notes, next to you a small smile creeps on Azuls lips. His cheeks slightly a little red; it’s shade comparable to one of a watered down crimson sunset sitting on the edge of the sea. 

Pretty is what they think of me

You can say this study session went well as you both now exit the library, feeling not only drained but confident and pleased to have more self confidence in yourself now. It was not only productive, but you get the impression that your personalities interact with one another well. 

Azul sees you off, insisting he were to personally escort you back to your dorm but you firmly decline. You deemed that it was already enough that he used up at least 4 hours of his time to use it to tutor you.

“I was born with legs, but not a brain big enough as yours to comprehend all of that material in one go or two. Have a pleasant evening Azul, I greatly appreciate your help,” hugging your textbook and notebook stuffed with writings and notes. You wave him goodbye as you walk off.

They have a better image of me now, good

Azul walks back likewise, in a better mood and his mind more at ease. Not only can he use that study session to pull out some favors from you but he was able to wash away that pathetic self of himself on the broom from your head. Killing two birds with one stone, how easy it was. 

‘Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are Azul?’ your words echo like a ripple in his head. On the walk back he can only smile to himself remembering your words of what can be assumed of honesty from the heart and not some simple lip service to butter him up. 

They are rather interesting. We got along better than I expected

Being able to make the Prefect indebted to him is a big score today, the reason why he’s in such a good mood - is what he’s telling himself. But the overly pleased and delighted air around him tells Jade that there is more to it when Azul begins to share the success of today, arriving back at the chic and sea-themed office.

“You seem to have enjoyed your time with the Prefect, Azul. Perhaps if you continue to accompany them they may drown you out with compliments and poke holes in your heart.” 

Purposely saying that in a way which could be taken in two ways, selectively picking and choosing his words, Jade can only teasingly comment.

“I assure you it was all in my own self interest and benefit Jade. I don't let such words to affect me in such ways,” Azul combats his jesting with a serious look in his eyes. Jade can only chuckle a little, going along with Azul’s words to assure him that he meant no harm and it's back to work after spending so much time neglecting them. 

“Of course. It would take some time to poke holes in three hearts instead of one after all”

There you were, lazing on your striped cushioned couch back at the shabby dorm which you can respectively say is your dwelling and your little companions, alongside the ghost who you’ve managed to coexist with dwelling there before you. Your notes are put away and neatly tucked in. Residing in the corner of your history notes, a little ‘he’s kinda cute’ is scribbled on a random page.

Not like he'll ever know though, right?

[leeknewthat]

Warning: Genshin 3.6 Leaks

Here's a video of Kaveh's charged attack.

Source: This post on GI Leaks reddit. His NA is leaked there too.

This once again got me thinking about the differences between Kaveh and Alhaitham's ideologies.

Alhaitham's attacks are rough and forceful, while Kaveh's attacks are smooth and effortless. This is in stark contrast to their ideologies. Alhaitham promotes exerting effort only as much as needed, in fact, he prefers exerting as little effort as possible so long as the goal is achieved. Kaveh on the other hand believes in putting in as much effort as possible to maximise the quality of the end result. Yet their attack styles and patterns completely contradict their respective beliefs. Also note that Alhaitham wields a sword and Kaveh a claymore, which means that ideally Alhaitham would be applying much less force than Kaveh would while attacking.

I'm not sure what this means lore-wise. Maybe I'm looking into this too deeply. It could just be that Kaveh is an enjoyer of the aesthetics and likes to fight elegantly, and Alhaitham simply learned to fight more vigorously. In any case, I found the layers of contrast really interesting and worth sharing.

OR maybe I'm not looking deep enough and there's a lot more to it, in which case please reblog or comment or tag with your thoughts because these two blorbos never leave my brain anyway so I might as well indulge.

[onyourowndaisymae]

hi!!!!!! can i request the minecraft post u did for the dateables but for the brothers? i love ur writing sm it's so cute <3333

obey me brothers playing minecraft with you

thank you so much for the love <33 this was actually a lot of fun to write because all of these men are so very ridiculous. cheers to my first ever request!

[dateables version]

content warnings: language, bullying the villagers, killing the animals, you know how minecraft is

prompt: you've somehow convinced these guys to play minecraft, a human world game, one night, just the two of you. but how exactly does that experience go?

{established relationship, obey me x reader with the brothers}

Lucifer

oh. oh peepaw.

you really have to coax this man into playing with you. he's perfect at everything, all the time-- to engage in activity like this one, in front of you of all people, wounds his ego more than he'd like to admit. he doesn't want you to see him be bad at something. what if you no longer respect him? what if his inability to comprehend the little block people's actions are enough to ruin your love for him? he's genuinely distressed about this (not that he'd let it show), but you seem interested, so he reluctantly agrees.

two key things are necessary when playing minecraft with lucifer: patience and teamwork.

leaving him to do any task alone is daunting. the perfectionism paralyzes him a bit in these moments. take him with you! collect wood together, mine in the same mineshaft, hunt monsters together-- all of it starts to ease his mind when you work together. he starts to focus not on his pride but his love for you and spending quality time by your side.

as time progresses, he does eventually get a grip in the controls and mechanics-- well, as much as you can expect a dinosaur like him to understand. you still do a lot of tasks together in-game, but it's more of camaraderie thing by that point. he just likes being by your side, okay? don't make him say it, or you'll be hunting monsters by yourself bestie.

lucifer is also a really big fan of the soundtrack. it's so simple yet well-composed, a stark different to that garish video game music levi listens to. please play with the sound up and let him enjoy the sound of the rain intermingling with the music; his relaxed face is very cute.

Mammon

what's that? you wanna play minecraft with the great mammon? of course you do! he's gonna be the best player you've ever seen, just ya wait-- what's that? no, he's never touched the game before, but he knows he'll be fantastic. watch and learn, baybee, cuz the great mammon is here to show up and show out.

what he lacks in skill, he makes up several times over in enthusiasm. this is important, because he absolutely lacks skill.

mammon is a dangerous combination of unobservant and overenthusiastic, leading to every stupid situation you can think of. he thinks he sees an important resource, so he leaves for juuust a second... boom. he's lost. he somehow manages to attract lava in every. single. cave. at this point, you have to ban him from carrying anything important.

one thing he is good at is monster hunting. he's made it his mission from day 1 to protect you, whether it be real life or in a video game. he'll face a monster-- enderman, creeper, sneaky skeleton, you name it-- without an ounce of fear if it means you'll live another in-game day (some might call this excessive, but you just call it cute).

like everything with mammon, sometimes his instinct to protect you goes overboard. he tries to ban you from entering the mines and going outside at night because what if a monster gets you, human?? fortunately for you, he never figured out how to run in-game, so just sprint past him and carry on.

on a completely unrelated note-- this greedy motherfucker (said with SO much affection) hordes all the treasures in-game like a dragon. his goal is to build you two a mansion of diamond and gold. this is very cute if you once again ignore the fact that he keeps FALLLING IN LAVA with all his vauables. y'all are never getting anywhere in this game.

Leviathan

levi is, hands down, the best person to play minecraft with. you don't have to teach him a thing-- in fact, he's probably the one that brought it up to you!

he's very pleased that you'd indulge in one of his hobbies like this, regardless of whether you actually play video games or not. just the thought of you there, sitting next to him, hanging out with him because you want to be around a shut-in otaku like him... the thought gives him butterflies.

... y'all can't actually share a house by the way. he gets too flustered. make a joke about putting your minecraft beds together and he's blushing. it does not matter how long you've been together, his reaction will always be the same.

he's one of the only ones that you can progress through the game with. bashful levi is amazing in the mines. he's got a system down pat that'll help you guys find your way back to the entry point, where he's set up a base camp with chests and resources so you won't have to resurface until you're done. smart, right?

y'all actually go to the nether and the end. he's very quick to pick up the game's mechanics and use his luck to to help you guys progress. every victory is shared; what's the fun of winning if you're not winning together?

levi will play with you basically any time you ask. he loves when you refer to it as "our minecraft world". better yet, praise him for all his hard work in making your world and watch him melt. he's just a sucker for your love, and the fact that he's actually good at this activity makes him all the more happy to do it with you.

Satan

satan doesn't really know much about this game that you're describing, but he's willing to play it with you if you're really that interested. he's always ready to learn more about things from the human world; when you tell him this is one of the most popular games up on earth, he wants to try it at least once.

satan is not the best in general at video games, but he's quick-witted and resourceful, so the two of you get by just fine. the problem mostly lies in the fact that satan's audacity gets you into trouble sometimes. there is no little voice in his head telling him not to do something potentially dangerous and stupid, especially if there's some reward to gain on the other side. he is fully convinced he can take on an iron golem with a stone sword and no armor, just you watch--

be carefully with letting him run around freely. there's lots of ways to die in this game, and each failure pokes at the embers of wrath below his cool exterior.

this intelligent lil guy figures out redstone pretty damn quick. he'll use this knowledge to create lots of little creations meant to make your camp better. whether or not this actually helps is an entirely different story... but look! a gate! aren't you so proud of him? (please praise him, he needs it so bad)

and you wouldn't be playing with satan if all progress didn't come to a stop the moment he spots an ocelot. when you tell him you can befriend them, he's overjoyed. look at how cute they are! one ocelot turns into two, then three, then four... suddenly there's a small army of ocelots in your house that he's caring for. y'all better make room in your joint minecraft bed or satan will feel like a bad cat dad. he's so ridiculous and i love him

Asmodeus

this man plays minecraft with his priorities straight-- he spends way too long creating a cute character skin to play with, then builds a cute house and decorates it to the nines, then focuses on finding himself the cutest armor and weapons... all before doing literally anything productive, btw.

do not expect asmodeus to be much help. he's mostly there for moral support. he cannot do things "for survival" like gathering food and resources or building a starter home. everything must be perfect, or it doesn't get done. asmo did not craft himself a bed until he was able to dye the wool pink and have a cute pink bed. he cannot bring himself to live in an ugly house, so you either need to help him or listen to him whine about getting rained on or attacked by monsters until he's done.

this is not to imply that playing with asmo is not fun!!

asmo is not a monster hunter, a miner, or any good at gathering resources. however, his experience with makeup makes him insanely creative. while you might not have a house for several days, the end result even gives barbatos' house a run for its money. his decor is always very cute and clean, soft even in the blocky 2D world. he'll make your whole base camp aesthetically pleasing if you let him (please let him-- his smile is worth it).

asmo often finds himself a damsel in distress. he'll fall in holes and get very confused, scream when he gets attacked, and generally need you to protect him at every turn. succeed, though, and he'll hail you as one of the most amazing people he's ever met. the game will be discarded as he throws his arms around you, kissing you all over the face and showering you in praises, all for saving his house from a stray creeper.

oh, and he'll definitely put your beds next to each other and smirk at you. what did you expect from the avatar of lust? cornball

Beelzebub

sweet, beloved baby beel. he's ready and willing to play with you whenever. if you want to make some actual progress, prepare lots of snacks and set a cozy atmosphere to keep him full and content. playing with the avatar of gluttony does require a little prep in that regard.

this (metaphorical) angel really has a hard time killing any of the livestock. he apologizes aloud anytime he has to slay one and explains to the poor creature why he's killing them. sorry, little sheep guy, but you two need to make beds. the cows make him feel especially bad because they remind him of belphie.

he's really big on making sure you guys have a secure, safe home to hide away in. sometimes, things get really overwhelming in the game, so he wants you to have a space where you feel safe and protected enough to calm down. this bunker is definitely a bit ugly, but we can't win them all.

play with him long enough and all the food will start looking really tasty to him. that bread looks a little too real, doesn't it, mc? and that cake is so life-like... redirect him to his snack horde, stat.

he also wants to do all of your tasks together. when he's there with you, he can make sure you're safe or offer you help when your struggling to complete a task on your own. he want to make sure you're having fun! let him help you, please, it makes him feel loved. he likes spending time with you.

definitely doesn't get the "putting your minecraft beds together" joke. you can either explain the to him and watch him blush, or let him live with the assumption that it's for extra cuddle room.

Belphegor

you've got to coax belphie into playing with you for a few days, because honestly? that sounds like a lot of work. not only does he have to participate, but he's also got to learn, too? he's already yawning just talking about it all.

he'll eventually snuggle in with his back against your chest and your arms clumsily holding the controller in front of him. he doesn't particularly care that this position makes gaming difficult for you, not when you're cuddling him like this. it's really a win-win situation in his eyes: he'll play the little block game if you shower him in unconditional affection any time he wants. what a deal! his youngest child energy really shows in times like these.

belphie is heartless when it comes to raiding villages and collecting resources. what's that? you feel bad? they're not real, mc. they don't have feelings. they don't care that you're stealing from them. if it really makes you feel bad he'll stop, but he will complain about how much easier things could have been if you'd just robbed a village or two.

somehow, some way, he's also super lucky?? he'll stumble upon rare resources with little to no effort and snicker about how you're still scrambling for supplies. don't worry, he'll share. only if you beg, though. go on. he wants to hear it. maybe, maybe he'll be willing to give you the diamonds he found if you convince him. (what a fucking menace!)

he will, eventually, fall asleep while playing. the music is too soft and your arms around him are too warm for him to not drift off. that's okay. carefully take the controller away from him, save the game, shut down the system, and settle in for the night. he'll cuddle closer in his sleep, unconsciously touched by the gesture, and drag you into dreamland with him.

[ot3]

what do you think changed between atla and lok to make lok so bad in almost every way? im currently watching atla for the first time bc i got inspired by your blog and the quality between the two shows is so stark... its like they were made by entirely different people.

Streaming and the writers strike. Atla began airing in 2005. Lok began airing in 2012. A ton happened in the media industry in those two years. Avatar: the last Airbender got three seasons of 20 full length episodes (21 for the final season actually) to a tell a continuous story, which is essentially unheard of in the modern cartoon landscape. We have to remember that working on TV has pretty much just gotten worse and thankless since then.

As I was an elementary school child when that was all going down I don't have any particular knowledge about avatars development process, so I don't know how it compares to the contemporary landscape of western cartoons. But right now I know a lot of people who work in animation and read up on the industry a lot and it just completely plagued with pipeline issues and executive interference that seem to make creating a functional and impactful work of art as difficult as possible.

their pacing is the biggest issue. Despite lok having an entire extra season on atla it is still nine episodes shorter and it tries to tell four complete story arcs with large casts in that time. Whether that was the decision of the writers or the execs I don't know, but that's really where the main root of their problem is.

[deliciousangelfestival]

Tears In His Ferrari || Chp 3 - Bucky

Character: Bucky Barnes x Farmer!Reader

Words Count: 1,810

Summary: Bucky Barnes, used to a life of luxury, takes on farm challenges in a bet with his father. Mud-stained Ferraris and a rustic farmhouse lead to unexpected personal growth, guided by the stern mentorship of Y/N, a farmer making his city-boy life difficult.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

Chapters: Chp 1, Chp 2, Chp 3 , Chp 4 , Chp 5 , Chp 6 , Chp 7 , Chp 8 , Chp 9 ,-

Bucky woke with a sore body, the stiffness a stark reminder of the physical toil from the previous day. Accustomed to the luxury of a comfortable bed, high-quality pillows, and a butler ready to attend to his every need, the reality of his new surroundings hit him like a jolt.

Groggily rubbing his eyes, Bucky surveyed the unfamiliar room. The rustic charm of the farmhouse was a far cry from the sleek, modern aesthetic he was accustomed to. The absence of a butler waiting at the ready only added to his disoriented state.

"I miss my old life," Bucky muttered, his voice tinged with a grumpy edge. The absence of the usual pampering he received back home left him feeling out of sorts. His gaze lingered on the simple furnishings, a stark contrast to the opulence he was used to.

As Bucky reluctantly swung his legs over the edge of the bed, he winced at the soreness in his muscles. "What was I thinking?" he mumbled, questioning the wisdom of his impulsive decision to take on the challenges of farm life.

The realization struck him as he stepped onto the cold, creaky floor – no butler, no high-end breakfast awaiting him. In this new chapter of his life, Bucky Barnes was on his own, starting with the most mundane task: preparing breakfast.

Bucky turned on his phone, half-expecting a call from his father. No calls. A sigh of both relief and disappointment escaped his lips. The absence of his father's voice on the other end left a void that forced him to confront the reality of his situation.

Bucky stepped outside with his phone in hand, cradling a warm coffee cup. The aroma wafting from the beverage provided a momentary solace, a small comfort amid the unfamiliarity surrounding him.

Grateful for his ability to make his coffee and his father's provision of a regular coffee maker, Bucky took a sip, savoring the rich flavor that greeted his taste buds.

Intent on enjoying the morning view, Bucky ventured further into the surroundings. The tranquil beauty of the farm at dawn, a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of city life, began to work its magic on him.

However, his peaceful contemplation was interrupted by an unexpected sight – the familiar farm tractor from the previous day was in motion, navigating the plot he had been tasked with.

Bucky narrowed his eyes, attempting to process the scene. To his surprise, it was Y/N at the wheel, diligently working on planting barley seeds. A grumble escaped Bucky as he checked his watch. "It's still 7 a.m," he remarked, realizing the early hour. Approaching the tractor, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance.

Y/N halted her work upon spotting him and wasted no time in delivering her verdict. "You're late," she declared, her tone laced with irritation and amusement.

Bucky, taken aback by the unexpected accusation, retorted, "This is the earliest hour I wake up." His attempt at justification fell on deaf ears as Y/N remained unimpressed, making it clear that Bucky was running on a different schedule in the world of farming.

Y/N hopped off the tractor, her boots landing on the soft earth as she faced Bucky. "I've planted some of the barley seeds, and now it's your turn. Show me what you've learned yesterday," she instructed, a no-nonsense tone underscoring her words.

Bucky, feigning surprise, questioned, "You did? Why did you help me?" A playful smirk danced on his lips, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

"So it's quicker for you to go back," Y/N deadpanned, her response devoid of sentiment.

Putting on an exaggerated expression of disappointment, Bucky remarked, "And here I thought you could become my new best friend." His attempt at humor earned a half-hearted eye roll from Y/N.

Seated in the tractor again, Bucky took a deep breath, gearing up for the challenge. As he began driving, Y/N kept a close watch, her gaze assessing his every move.

Bucky, still grappling with the intricacies of the tractor, found himself navigating the field with a mix of uncertainty and determination.

After a few moments of awkward maneuvering, Bucky couldn't suppress his curiosity. "Am I doing it right?" he asked Y/N, seeking validation.

Y/N, maintaining her stern expression, nodded. "Not bad for a beginner," conceded. "But remember, the key is steady hands and focus. Precision is everything in farming."

Bucky, trying to absorb the newfound knowledge, muttered to himself, "Steady hands, focus, precision."

Bucky spent the entire day toiling under the sun, planting the barley seeds row by row until the sun dipped below the horizon. Exhausted but satisfied with his progress, he parked the tractor and surveyed the vast field he had cultivated. Y/N, recognizing that Bucky had successfully handled the task independently, decided to visit him.

To Bucky's surprise, Y/N approached riding a horse, showcasing a side of farm life he hadn't encountered in the city. As she dismounted, Bucky couldn't help but express his awe, "Your horse is cool. Why didn't you tell me you have a horse?"

Y/N, brushing her horse gently, Y/N explained, "This baby is afraid of cars and could kick with her strong legs. Do you want her to destroy your precious Ferrari?"

Realizing the potential danger to his luxury car, Bucky quickly responded, "No, thank you."

Y/N chuckled at his reaction and then pulled something from her bag, handing it to Bucky. "Here, my mother made this for your dinner."

At the mention of 'dinner,' Bucky's stomach betrayed him with a loud growl. He blushed, hoping Y/N hadn't heard it, but she seemed unfazed, pretending not to notice. With a smile and a friendly goodbye, Y/N left Bucky to enjoy the homemade dinner. 

Bucky, feeling rejuvenated after a satisfying dinner and a hot shower, was grateful for the delicious meal Y/N had provided. The exhaustion from the day's farm work seemed to dissipate, replaced by a newfound energy. His phone rang as he changed into fresh clothes, contemplating the slower pace of life in the countryside.

Seeing his best friend Steve's name on the screen, Bucky casually answered, "Hey, Rogers."

With a chuckle, Steve asked Bucky if he had managed to survive his first day. Bucky responded with a dry, "Haha, very funny," acknowledging the stark contrast between his city life and the challenges of farm living.

The conversation between friends continued, with Steve genuinely curious about Bucky's experiences. As they talked, the topic shifted to the practicalities of earning money quickly in the rural setting. Knowing that farming took months and years before yielding profits, Bucky sought advice from Steve.

In response, Steve suggested an unconventional idea. "Why not try live streaming or making a vlog about your daily farm life?" Steve proposed. "You've already got a bunch of followers on social media. It could be a unique angle, and who knows, it might kickstart something."

Bucky's eyes lit up at the suggestion. "That's a good idea! I've got the audience, and people love a good lifestyle change story," he remarked. The prospect of sharing his journey on social media seemed like an exciting venture and a way to leverage his existing platform for financial gain.

As Bucky considered the potential of this new endeavor, he couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of purpose. 

Feeling refreshed on the second day, Bucky decided to up his game for the vlog. He brushed his hair and wore stylish yet comfortable clothes that reflected his city-boy flair adapting to farm life. Armed with the camera, he began recording, using the natural light that enhanced the aesthetic appeal.

A small box caught his attention as he opened the front door to start his vlog. Intrigued, Bucky leaned down and discovered a tiny puppy inside.

The little creature opened its eyes, emitting a soft bark that immediately melted Bucky's heart. He couldn't resist picking up the puppy, cooing at its cuteness while wondering how it ended up in his house.

Picking the puppy gently, Bucky wondered aloud, "How did you end up in my house?" The unexpected gift had melted his heart, and he couldn't fathom who might have left such a cute puppy for him.

Y/N, having just arrived, witnessed the adorable scene. Still holding the puppy, Bucky showed it to her and inquired if she knew anyone in the neighborhood with a dog. Y/N after some contemplation, Y/N glanced at the box and seemingly deduced something.

"If the owner doesn't show up, I'll tell you who it is," Y/N declared.

Bucky, curious, nodded, recognizing that Y/N might have some insights into the matter. However, his attention was diverted when he realized his phone's camera was still rolling. Lifted in his hand, he casually mentioned, "Oh, I'm making a vlog."

Y/N's demeanor tensed visibly, catching Bucky's attention. She sighed, warning as she spoke, "If my face ever gets into the shot, delete it. If not, I'll destroy your phone." 

With that, she left Bucky, who quickly protected his phone. "Geez, what's her deal?" he wondered aloud. Meanwhile, the puppy continued to squirm in his arms, its innocence distracting from the day's farm work.

Bucky gently stroked the soft fur of the puppy, making comforting sounds as he held the small creature close. "Shhh, I will protect you," he whispered soothingly. The puppy, seemingly reassured by Bucky's gentle touch, nestled in his arms, its tiny frame a bundle of warmth and vulnerability.

As Bucky cradled the puppy, he couldn't help but marvel at the unexpected addition to his day. The mystery of the puppy's origin lingered in his thoughts, but for now, he was content to enjoy this newfound companionship. The bond between man and puppy began to form, a silent promise of care and protection exchanged in those quiet moments.

Bucky looked down at the puppy's innocent eyes and chuckled, "Well, looks like it's you and me against the farm adventures, huh?" The puppy responded with a playful wag of its tail, blissfully unaware of the challenges that awaited them.

With the camera still in hand, Bucky contemplated whether to include the puppy in his vlog. He didn't want to upset Y/N, considering her aversion to being on camera, but the irresistibly cute puppy might add a charming touch to his content.

Deciding to tread carefully, Bucky adjusted the camera angle to focus solely on the puppy, ensuring Y/N's face remained out of the shot. He continued to speak to his audience, introducing the unexpected farm companion and sharing the heartwarming story of how the puppy came into his life.

Chapters: Chp 1, Chp 2, Chp 3 , Chp 4 , Chp 5 , Chp 6 , Chp 7 , -

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