#me: he never did anything wrong in his life ever

[saerins]

ᯓ ᝰ RIGHT HERE .ᐟ — touya todoroki

touya x female reader. content tags modern au, childhood sweetheart!touya, both are working adults, making out, mentions of infidelity/murder, he’s a tease. word count 1.7k

ᯓ notes .ᐟ haha can you tell i love touya too much rn ? just getting back into writing so have some of my touya :) thanks to any of you who read this <3

“touya, you’re gonna make me late for work tomorrow,” you whine, pouting as he wins you in yet another round of super smash bros. (and hence you’d have to stay up and continue playing at his behest.)

beside you, touya smirks, rows of pearly white visible while he clearly enjoys tormenting you. “weren’t you the one who said you needed a distraction?”

you grumble as you take the couch pillow and hold it over your face, groaning in frustration. touya’s right; you’d called him right after dinner, practically forced him to come after you figured out that you’re actually not as strong you thought and you’re actually still really upset that your ex cheated on you.

it’s only pathetic because it’s already been a couple of months and you’re still wallowing over it somehow.

“you know, i bet all that frustration will go away if you just let me kill that fucker,” touya tells you, flicking your forehead as leans forward, yanking the cushion off your face.

unamused, you deadpan at him. “yeah? then what am i gonna do when you’re in jail, huh?”

touya snickers, “aww, what? can’t handle being without me?”

in a strange way, your honest answer is definitely not. you’ve known touya forever. ever since you were five and your families connected at a preschool event. ever since your friend fuyumi introduced you to her brother. ever since touya confided in you how much he hated his father.

fast forward more than a decade later and you’re both sitting in your apartment, in a different state than either of your families, still as close as you were when you were kids.

you glare at touya, rolling your eyes before scrunching your nose and smirking at him. “actually, go ahead, i’ll go find myself a better guy while you rot in the cell.”

your best friend scoffs, cocking a brow and looking like he’s offended. “i off someone for you and you don’t marry me immediately? the fuck is wrong with you?”

the shit-eating grin that dawns on his face immediately after makes your heart skip a beat. yeah, you’ve always found him attractive, maybe even had a crush on him back in high school, but he’d always had girls after girls, and somewhere along the way you learned to stuff those flimsy emotions back down.

until you remember that he’s been single for a while now, and the fact that you’re both working adults with all the freedom in the world.

fuck, you really shouldn’t go back there.

“haha, funny,” you try to wave it off sarcastically. “says the one who told his ex that he just sees me as a little sister.”

he laughs, leaning back against the couch, a hand behind his head, abs sticking out from the edge of his shirt. it takes you a second to rein yourself in, not wanting to get teased relentlessly by him if you get caught staring.

“hey, she was getting jealous of me spending so much time with you! what was i supposed to say?”

yes, you’re aware. most of them were. most of the time you never told touya about any of that; of how his girlfriends were coming up to you, all insecure about your friendship and asking if you could back off. that was the most common thing among all his relationships: the girls’ pleas for you to keep a distance.

you did… the first few times.

and after his fifth relationship, you realised that touya would always pull you back close. would always end up breaking up with them if your friendship is causing them too much worry.

“you didn’t have to say anything, maybe you should’ve just kept your distance, you know? since most of them seemed to have a problem with it,” you comment, trying to act as nonchalant as possible, though even you don’t believe yourself.

a life without touya is unimaginable for you. even if you can’t really say the same for him.

touya sighs, shifting in his position before ultimately putting an arm around you, pulling you close. he smells like your soap and his hair against your face tickles.

he’s always like this; always touchy, always close. recently he’s been more than usual, coming over and sleeping the night (you never did anything physical!), chasing other guys away at the club because they’re not good enough for you.

and when he’s like that, you think maybe there’s no harm in letting those long-lost feelings flow back.

it’s dangerous.

he’s always like this. always way too much for you to handle. and yet you can’t live without him.

and then he does something he’s never done before.

you feel his lips on your temple, and you hear the chuckle reverberating from his throat. his left arm around you holds you tight, not that you’re running anywhere—you’re pretty sure you’re frozen stiff from the shock.

did that really happen?

“how can i do that when you’re the only one i want?”

you’re sure that’s his voice. it can’t be anyone else’s. but you’re not sure if you believe him. is he really saying what you think he’s saying?

slowly, you turn to face him, expecting him to wear that smug grin and tease you for being so gullible but it never comes. instead, you’re greeted with his half-lidded eyes, blue pupils staring at your lips like he’s hypnotised, his thumb caressing your lower lip from left to right like he’s trying to memorise all the grooves.

it’s so soft that you barely recognise your own voice when it comes, “touya, kiss me.”

and maybe he’s always wanted to, because he doesn’t miss a beat. the second you open your mouth, he’s giving you what you asked for, his tongue prying your lips open and he tastes just like the warm in winter mornings, like the comfort people always dream about.

mint. you can taste the sweet from when he ate it right before he beat you in the game. you can feel the cold on the tip of your nose from when you brush against the piercings on his nostrils. you can feel him carry you onto his lap, feel his hands wrapping around your waist. you can feel his heartbeat under his chest, under your palm, almost as erratic as your own.

were you really just upset over someone else?

every relationship you’d been sad over suddenly didn’t seem to make sense anymore. not when touya’s right here, lips locked with yours and telling you more with his kiss than you’ve ever heard from his words.

by the time you pull away, both of you are breathless, his hand on your cheek, lips softly brushing over your own like he can’t bear to be away even for just a second. you can’t bring yourself to open your eyes, half overwhelmed and half confused.

“fuck, did we really just—”

“shh,” you hush him, putting a finger on his lips, suddenly embarrassed. your foreheads are still pressed together, and you can’t see it but he’s admiring your face, holding himself back from just kissing you even more.

touya moves your finger away. he whispers your name in the most gentle tone you’ve ever heard, “does that mean you feel the same?”

you swallow the lump in your throat, tongue-tied and still straddling your best friend on the couch. you’re just a single impulsive action away from going all the way.

dangerous.

pulling back even further, you’re about to make a break for your bedroom when touya pulls you back, making sure you face him.

“no running this time,” he tells you, voice raspy and his eyes flicking from your eyes to your nose and your lips but mostly your lips. “i want you,” he whispers, and the minute you lock gazes, the answer has never been more clear to you.

“i want you too, touya,” you answer, both excited and afraid but he never lets you harp on things too much because he’s already kissing you silly, barely letting you breathe—you don’t have to guess with him; he wants you so desperately you can feel it in his actions.

“touya, we should stop,” you whine, knowing that this might be going way too quick yet you want it all the same.

touya shakes his head, big hands slipping under your shirt and squeezing your waist. “no, don’t wanna stop,” he whispers into your mouth.

he’s about to pull your shirt over your head when the loud shrill of his phone interrupts. he would’ve tossed it to the side if you hadn’t taken it and insisted he should take it. it’s from shoto, after all. (he doesn’t call often, it’s a complicated relationship.)

grumbling, touya leans back, keeping your thighs in place so you can’t move away. he’s smirking at you as he answers, “shoto, what is it?”

you can’t hear his brother over the phone. you can only guess snippets of the conversation from touya’s end.

“huh.”

“what for?”

“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever.”

when he finally puts it down, he pulls you close by the chin, a glint of mischief in his grin. “get ready, doll.”

“huh? for what?”

touya gives you a peck on the lips. “family’s visiting, a surprise or whatever. they’re already in the city.”

you blink, praying he’s not being serious and wishing it’s not what you’re thinking. “okay, have fun!”

“and where do you think you’re going?” touya laughs, pulling you back down after you barely got back up.

“go spend some time with them, it’ll be fun.”

“oh i’m sure it’ll be fun,” he smirks, typing something into his phone and sending the message before you can sneak a peek.

you’re almost too scared to ask. but you do. “and why’s that?”

touya chuckles, thinking you’re way too stubborn, playing dumb even if it’ll kill you. but he guesses it’s fine if he has to spell it out for you. “because i wanna re-introduce you.”

“wait, what do you mean?”

with a gentle smile and a poke on your forehead, he looks you in the eyes. “i’m gonna introduce them to my future wife.”

[berryz-writes]

Not yet

Azriel x reader

Summary: Your not ready to tell Azriel's family your mates in fear of them not liking you

note: It's just Az being the standard and the cutest shit ever. Also its pretty short im sorry lovelies <3

"I don't want to. Not yet" I murmured to Azriel, snuggling closer to his warmth. His hands ran up and down my back, sending small shivers down my spine.

"And why is that, sweetheart?" He replied, his voice slightly hoarse from having just woken up, pressing small kisses to my face. I opened my eyes and tried to get used to the light in the room. It was a Saturday, one of the days Azriel was content to just lie in bed with me with no commitments for the rest of the day.

"I just...I don't think they'll like me. I know it's stupid but I don't know them well enough. What if they think I'm using you or don't actually love you? What if they convince you that I'm not good enough?" I waited for him to say something. I didn't usually have anything bad to say against his family but I was never comfortable around new people. Especially if they were such important figures in our court. A slight sigh left his lips "Y/n. Do you really think I'd stop loving you if one of them told me to?...not that they would"

I sat up and tucked my hair behind my ear, his heat suddenly too much. "No but it's not just that. Imagine I say something wrong. I know their your family but their also high lord and lady. What if I say something...I don't know politically wrong? They'll laugh at me and think how in the world are us two mates."

Azriel moved his arm around my waist and pulled me back to lay down on the bed, his hand moving through my hair in a soothing motion. "They will think nothing of the sort because you are perfect. But if it makes you feel better we can wait for as long as you want. Feyre was talking about inviting the wonderful florist tomorrow. Accept her offer and get to know everyone a bit"

I thought about it and slowly nodded my head. "Fine."

Azriel was right because Feyre did invite me the next day.

"Y/n! Oh these are gorgeous! You've outdone yourself" Feyre said admiring the bouquet I had prepared

I smiled and handed her the card with all my business details "Thank you high lady. If anyone asks where you got them from please give them this."

"Feyre, please. No formalities between us"

I nodded my head "Feyre it is then"

She turned her attention to the rest of the shop looking around the flower filled store "You have such a peaceful life. Living amongst flowers and smelling like roses all the time"

I let out a small laugh. Very peaceful. Sometimes a little too peaceful. "I suppose. Although it get's boring at times"

Feyre's eyes lit up in excitement "You should come to dinner tonight! It'll be something different for you and we can get to know each other more"

I thought about what me and Azriel had discussed earlier. Now was the perfect opportunity, to meet his family. "Oh...I don't want to intrude. I don't know-"

She shook her head "Nonsense. Your coming tonight. Everyone will be scrambling over each other to get to know you"

I looked around the store, hoping for a sign as to what I should do. The only sign I could see however was the open sign on the front door.

"Fine. I'll come. Thank you the for the invite high- Feyre"

She beamed and gave me a quick hug, slightly surprising me before walking out with her bouquet of flowers. I sighed. Well I suppose I better go home and change so I looked slightly decent at least.

*Dinner, a few hours later*

Azriel cleared his throat slightly before continuing "Did you want something lov- y/n?"

I paused and clenched my jaw at the slip up. The chatter at the table was luckily loud enough for no one to quiet hear what he was saying. This was the first time I had been happy for Cassian's loud voice. I shook my head "I'll get it myself, thank you" I reached over and picked up the dish, adding a few potatoes to my plate, trying not to gather attention towards us two. Really. Azriel wasn't very good at following instructions. If someone had heard that I don't know what I would have done.

Probably jumped out a window or something.

"Everything alright?" Rhys asked looking over at me first, then Azriel and then me again. I nodded my head quickly and gave him a smile "Fine, everything's fine" Azriel didn't reply merely nodding in agreement too.

I let out a sigh of relief when he turned away and took a sip of his wine. Luckily dinner passed with no other accidents happening. I watched as everyone took their seats in the living room, Feyre and Rhys cuddled up on the couch while the others sprawled here and there, Elain having gone up because of a headache.

Azriel stood half hidden by his shadows in the door way, I could sense him even though I couldn't see him without squinting my eyes.

Come to the kitchen. It's important

His voice echoed in my mind, his deep and low voice making me miss him even though he was just inches away. I got up making an excuse of needing water and walked over to the kitchen, past the dining room where we had just sat. Before I could process what was happening I was against a wall and Azriel's lips were on mine, his shadows cocooning us in a dark and peaceful bubble. He kissed me like he was starving and he couldn't get enough.

We finally pulled apart my hands resting on his chest "Azriel" I warned him, the lust filled look in his eyes ready to devour me. His hands ran up and down my body, my waist, my hips warming each part of me.

"I want to tell them. I want to tell them about my perfect and beautiful mate." He whispered his eyes dark and his hair falling forward onto his forehead. I pushed a strand away "I can't right now. I'm not ready"

I knew even if I shook my head once Azriel would understand. His hopeful expression dropped slightly but his lips remained in a small smile "Let me take you home now, sweetheart. I can't live without having you close to me"

I rolled my eyes but smiled all the same "Don't be so dramatic"

He didn't reply, instead tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear. "We're going" He said finally and winnowed us on the spot. I didn't even get to say goodbye to anyone but all thoughts left me as Azriel looked at me with his devilishly handsome grin.

MASTERLIST

[firewasabeast]

(I made this little headcanon then had to write a fic for it. Here's 2k words of the 118 being obsessed with Tommy ft. Bobby being a dad, of course. Enjoy here or on ao3!)

The Problem

Buck has a problem.

He knows it shouldn't be a problem. Knows he should be grateful. He's never had anything like this before. Never felt so secure in his life. Work is good, home is good, friends are good, family's good, and his boyfriend... well, he's really good.

Buck is in love, like really and truly in love, for the first time ever. Yes, he's said it before, and maybe he meant it, but not like this. He's never had this much stability, and care, and comfort, and security. Buck doesn't just love Tommy, he feels loved by Tommy. Since the moment the words I love you slipped out of Tommy's mouth, there has never been a doubt in his mind that Tommy means it. And he knows that Tommy feels the same way about him too.

But none of that is the problem.

The problem is he's not the only one who loves Tommy.

All of his coworkers love Tommy.

A lot.

Apparently he is a very popular guy with the 118. Buck always knew Tommy was a cool guy, even when he first tried and failed to discredit the claim, but he didn't realize that every single one of his coworkers would also think Tommy was the coolest guy to ever walk the planet.

Okay, maybe they didn't actually think that, but it was obvious that they liked him and they wanted to be around him.

All. The. Time.

At first it was cute. Buck was thrilled that everyone liked the person he was dating. He was overjoyed that they always had something positive to say about Tommy, that they had him included in group chats, and invited him to hangout with the team after a shift.

Then it became... a lot to manage.

Chimney and Tommy had a long history, so it was to be expected that they would hang out on occasion. They both loved to watch classic movies and, while Buck didn't mind one every once in a while, he wasn't a huge fan of black and white so he let them have their time with that. He just didn't expect Chimney to add the Old Classics Movie Network to his cable subscription so there was always another movie being recorded that they needed to watch and analyze.

Tommy and Eddie were already friends, and Buck and Eddie were best friends, so it was easy for the three of them to hang out. Buck could get into wrestling, he liked karaoke trivia, and he was a big fan of learning Muay Thai. But that's where Eddie had a problem.

“Every time you come to Muay Thai,” Eddie whined, “you and Tommy end up going one round, get all horned up, and leave early.”

“All horned up?” Buck repeated with a glare. “What are we, fifteen?”

“You're banned from Muay Thai,” he declared, holding up a finger to silence Buck's incoming protests, “at least once a week.”

Then there was Hen, who Buck thought would care the least of them all.

He was wrong.

She became convinced that she was the reason he and Tommy ever got together, not Chimney.

“Chimney may have been the one to contact Tommy, but it was me who planted the seed in his head,” she'd say, “so I was actually the one who connected you two.”

It turns out Tommy and Karen also had a lot of similar interests, so one double date turned into regular double dates. Often, Karen was texting or calling Tommy to set up the next double date before Buck even knew a thing about it.

Hen also enjoyed Tommy's dry humor. They could battle back and forth for hours in sarcasm wars, and often enjoyed hating on the same things.

Even Ravi wedged his way into Tommy's life. He actually wanted flying lessons for other purposes than staring at Tommy for hours at a time while he rambled on about what each button did.

And Tommy was so kind, so insanely, annoyingly, kind that he always made time for everybody. Buck had no idea how he did it, but he did. He even always had time for Buck too, Buck just wanted more of it.

He knew it was selfish. He knew Tommy deserved to have all the friends and found family in the world, which is why he'd never say anything to him about it.

But, he could talk to Bobby. Ask Bobby to talk to the rest of the team, because he'd tried and they wouldn't listen to him. Or, maybe Bobby could just schedule him off a day where everyone else worked? Give Buck and Tommy a day where distractions weren't possible, because all of the distractions were busy at the station. Surely he could do something.

He should've known better.

The second he tapped on Bobby's office door, Bobby excitedly waved him in.

“It came in the mail today,” he declared, as if Buck was supposed to know what that meant.

“Wh- What came in the mail?” Buck asked cautiously as he sat down.

“The murder mystery game Tommy and I talked about last time you guys came over. I had no clue he was so into puzzles and mysteries. I already talked to Tommy, and you two are coming over for dinner tonight.”

“We are?” Buck asked. This was a lot of information to be thrown his way so quickly.

“Yes. Well, he actually said he'd ask you about it and then confirm, but you already said you didn't have plans earlier, so...”

He should've known that question was a trap. Bobby had asked what everyone's plans were while they were on the way to a call earlier in the day. Buck had answered that he and Tommy didn't have any, which was risky, but his mind went blank in the moment. His actual plans involved a lot of nudity, mind blowing sex, and hopefully some whipped cream, but he was trying to not be so blatant about his sex life anymore.

But now Bobby was looking at him with wide, excited eyes, and he did remember Tommy talking about that game, and Bobby's food was always so good, so it wasn't like he could say no.

“Yeah, of course it's fine.”

Which led them to now, having just enough time to shower and change before driving over to Bobby and Athena's place.

“I know we haven't had as much us time lately,” Tommy said as they reached the door. Of course he did. Of course he noticed everything. “So we'll stay for dinner, and do this game, and we'll go by nine.”

Buck tried to play it cool. “No rush.”

“Evan,” Tommy replied knowingly, dropping a kiss on his temple, “we'll go by nine.”

Who was Buck to argue? “Yeah... Yeah, okay.”

Dinner went smoothly, as if there was another option. Tommy was always great at keeping up conversation, and he and Bobby knew tons of people to reminisce about and catch up on. Tommy had a long history with Athena as well, and a lot of mutual respect between the two, so the conversation never stalled.

It wasn't like Buck was ever left out either. Bobby and Athena were his family; more of his parents than his actual parents. Bobby cared for him, loved him, watched over him in ways his father never did. Athena was a dose of reality when he needed it. She was stern, expected the best from him, and didn't whitewash anything. He felt more comfortable in their home than he ever did in the house he grew up in.

And Tommy always had a hand on his leg, or his back, including him in the conversation or bragging on whatever he did at work that week. When Buck talked, Tommy looked at him like nothing else existed in the world. He listened, hung on to every word.

He made Buck feel special.

Which is why Buck wanted to take him home, rip off all of his clothes, and adore every inch of his body.

He couldn't do that yet though, because it was only seven-thirty and they still had to play the murder mystery game.

It started innocently enough. It was a fun game with pictures, paperwork, some evidence, and background on all the suspects. Buck figured they'd read through the material, follow along, and they'd be led to the murderer in no time.

Then Bobby rolled out the cork board and began pinning suspect photographs and pictures from the “crime scene”.

Things devolved from there.

Athena gave up before nine. “I solve murders all day long, I don't want to do it all night too.”

Buck still held out hope they'd leave on time.

Another mistake.

“Hon, it's getting late,” Buck said a little after nine, gently patting Tommy's back. They were sitting beside one another at the dining room table. Buck had been half paying attention, half going through a Wikipedia rabbit hole that started with active US serial killers and had somehow ended up on the origins of duct tape. “Maybe we should let them get some rest.”

“Buck, we haven't solved the murder yet,” Bobby replied, lifting both of his hands to show all the paperwork. “Cassie's ex-boyfriend is a prime suspect, but I have no physical evidence to prove he did it.”

“I think we should look more into the circus clown,” Tommy replied, handing Bobby yet another piece of fictional paperwork. “I learned a long time ago that you never trust a clown.”

“We already cleared the clown. He had an alibi.”

“Did he though? His best friend, the balloon artist, was his alibi. The clown could've paid him off.”

That's when Buck decided he'd be better off slipping away and joining Athena in the living room.

“Would you like some leftover pie?” Athena asked, eyebrow raised knowingly, as she lifted up her own slice.

Buck nodded. “I got it.”

He returned a moment later, pie in hand, extra whipped cream. He sat down on the couch, across from where Athena was curled up on the loveseat.

“There's not much on right now,” Athena said, staring at the TV, “but these home improvement shows always find a way to reel me in.”

“As long as it's not a murder mystery, I'll enjoy it.”

Athena let out a laugh. “They're in it deep, aren't they?”

“I'm not sure an actual murder would take them away from that game.”

Athena shook her head, peering into the dining room. “Our boys are something else, aren't they?”

Buck smiled. He couldn't help the butterflies in his stomach. The night may not be going as planned, but there was something so sweet, so domestic, about it all.

Everything felt... right.

“Yeah,” he replied, “they're something.”

Two more shows started and ended, and Tommy and Bobby could still be heard in the other room, arguing about whether it was the clown or the ex.

“You know, I looked up that game a while ago,” Athena whispered into the darkness of the living room, the only light from flashes on the TV, “and it wasn't the clown or the ex.”

Buck sighed sleepily. “I think we'll be spending the night tonight,” he mumbled, his eyes slowly closing where he laid on the couch.

“Already made up the guest bedroom,” Athena replied, taking another sip of her drink. “New toothbrushes in the bathroom too.”

It'd be another two hours before Tommy would come and gently wake up Buck and lead him to the guest bedroom. They'd brush their teeth, and change into some of Bobby's pajama pants before snuggling in bed.

And then, before the sun rose, Tommy would be popping up from a dead sleep to exclaim, “It was the candlemaker!” before running out of the room, and apparently right into Bobby who- from the sounds of their mumbled laughter and high fives- had the same epiphany.

Yeah, Buck had a problem. And he hoped he had it for the rest of his life.

[rambleonwaywardson]

I'll Keep You Warm

A Clegan one-shot

Summary: Another sleepless night. Sometimes Gale worries he'll never feel warm again, but then there's Bucky. Everything about Bucky is warm. Everything about Bucky is safe.

Word Count: 1988

Author's Note: A sort of alternative direction for the Sleepless one-shot. Some sweet hurt/comfort and Gale being vulnerable.

…

Sometimes it’s the quietest nights that end up bearing the most pain. Maybe the brain just runs out of stimuli, finds ways to fill the gaps. Maybe the world is just a little cruel that way. 

John Egan knows that, already. He knows it too well. He knows he’s too young to have seen so much cruelty first-hand, but at least he made it out. He used to wonder if staying alive was the better alternative after all; wouldn’t it be so much easier just to slip away? Did he do something right to earn the rest of his life, or did he do something wrong, forced to grit his teeth and act like the war didn’t change him?

He’s doing a little better now. He’s come to terms with the way his mind sticks him right back in that Hell now and again. He’s come to terms with the war creeping over his brain, the monster in the night.

He just wishes it would leave Gale alone. 

He’d take it all himself, if he could. He’d carry the weight of the aftermath on his shoulders until it drove him into the ground, if he could only let Gale take an unburdened breath. War is not kind to men or women or children. War is not kind to love. War wages itself on anything it touches. It does not discriminate. And it never, ever leaves you. 

Bucky lays silently in their bed, shrouded in darkness, trying to decide if he should wake Gale, who is fussing in his sleep beside him, his breathing uneven. This is what Bucky woke up to about five minutes ago, and it hasn’t subsided. On one hand, he could leave Gale be. Is a moderately tormented sleep better than no sleep at all? Especially when sleepless nights are a lingering, silent plague in their home. Maybe it will pass at any moment, and his breathing will return to normal and he’ll huff softly in his sleep and all will be well. On the other hand, Bucky could gently shake him awake. Save Gale from the grief robbing him of much needed rest. But sometimes waking up from a nightmare is worse than seeing it through. 

And then Gale starts trembling, his entire body shaking, teeth near chattering. He whines softly in his sleep and pulls his arms into his chest, curling into himself on his side so he’s facing Bucky. So Bucky turns onto his side, too, and presses their foreheads together. He feels the sweat on Gale’s forehead, making his hair damp. 

“It’s okay,” Bucky whispers. He tentatively reaches one hand up to rest on Gale’s shoulder and rubs his skin with gentle fingers. “You’re safe.”

On a better night, Gale might smile in his sleep when he hears Bucky’s voice. That particular habit always makes Bucky’s heart melt, reminds him of the fact that yes, he did something very, very right surviving to see this day. Sometimes, he still wishes he could forget everything he ever saw in the war, and nothing will ever make the pain worth it. But sometimes, he swears he’d do everything over again if he had to, if he knew he’d end up with Gale in his arms. 

Tonight is not a better night, though. Bucky doesn’t care; he’ll hold onto Gale through it all, good or bad, until his last breath. Even when it hurts.

Gale’s eyes pop open, and he stares uncomprehendingly at Bucky through the darkness, nothing but the moonlight to see by. “John?” His voice cracks, gravelly and hoarse from sleep, and he draws burning breaths in through his nose. 

“I’m here,” Bucky reassures him. But even awake, Gale is still shivering uncontrollably. 

“John,” he says again, his tone pleading. A raw fear that no one else will ever see from Buck Cleven. No one but Bucky. “It’s gonna kill me.”

“You’re safe, Buck,” Bucky tries to reassure him again, lifting his hand to brush the damp hair back away from Gale’s eyes. 

Gale shakes his head violently and crosses his arms, his hands gripping his biceps too tight as he huddles against his pillow. “G-gonna die in this fuckin’ cold.” He looks at Bucky, and Bucky almost wishes it were darker in here, so he wouldn’t have to see the pain in his eyes. “John, I’m so cold.” 

They’re in their bed at home. It’s autumn. The war is over. It’s 60 degrees outside even in the middle of the night, and Bucky is nearly sweating underneath their covers. 

But Gale is shaking so badly, and Bucky thinks there may be tears threatening to spill at the corners of his eyes, and seeing Gale like this, so vulnerable and scared and begging him for safety, might be worse than his own nightmares that sometimes still keep him awake at night. How do you save someone from a threat that’s no longer there?

Why does war get to sink its teeth into your soul and never let go?

They’re used to it, though. They’re used to having to protect each other, from both the real and the imaginary. They’ve been doing it for too long. 

“It’s okay,” Bucky whispers. He wriggles closer to Gale and wraps his arms around his upper body. He takes a moment to marvel at how small Gale feels in his arms, how fragile. “I’ve got you. Just take a deep breath. I’m here.”

The war didn’t break you, and I won’t let it break you now. I’ll hold the pieces of you together, even when my hands aren’t big enough to keep you from crumbling. I’ll shoulder the pain. I’ll keep you safe. 

He rubs his hands up and down Gale’s back, trying to convince his mind and body that he doesn’t need to be afraid anymore. But it isn’t working. No matter what Bucky does, Gale won’t stop shivering, and he’s crying John’s name. “I’m sorry,” he keeps saying. “John, I’m so sorry. I can’t- I’m too-“ He sounds helpless, and Bucky knows he’d hate anyone hearing him like this. But in this room, in each other’s arms, none of it matters. The only place in the world that they can be defenseless. “John, I’m cold.”

“Okay, okay angel,” Bucky nods. His heart is breaking, but he can’t let it shatter. He has to be the strong one tonight. He pushes back the covers and begins to pull away, but Gale’s hand darts out to grab onto his arm. 

“No.” Don’t leave.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere,” Bucky soothes. He tugs at Gale’s hand, urging him out of bed. He doesn’t even know what time it is, but he leads Gale down the hall to the bathroom. Gale stands in the bright fluorescent lights, hunched and shivering with his arms crossed protectively over his chest, a thin tee shirt hanging off his narrow frame. He’s perfectly healthy. He’s put on weight since they made it home, almost back to the way he looked before the Stalag. But sometimes Bucky still worries. Gale watches quietly as Bucky starts to run a bath. 

As they wait for the tub to fill, Bucky turns to face Gale again and steps closer, so they’re nose to nose. His hands rub gently up and down Gale’s arms, then his sides. “Come here, let’s get these clothes off.” 

Once they’ve both stripped, Bucky lowers himself into the water, pressing himself to the back of the tub, and motions for Gale to join him. Gale squints at him hesitantly, but he’s so cold. He climbs in, the water sloshing around him and splashing to the floor as he sits down in front of Bucky. It’s a tight squeeze, and not exactly comfortable in their cheap tub, but it’ll do. Bucky wraps his arms around Gale’s middle and carefully eases him back, so he’s leaning against Bucky’s chest. 

“There we go,” Bucky murmurs, resting his head on top of Gale’s and holding him tight. “See? It’s like we’re in the Florida Keys in the summer. Never have to worry about the cold again.”

He made the water so warm he himself almost can’t stand it, but it doesn’t matter. He’ll take it. It’s quite literally the least he could do to take some of Gale’s anxiety away. “We’re far away from that place,” he promises him. He presses his lips to the top of Gale’s head, nuzzles his nose in his soft hair. “I’ll make sure you never feel that cold again, okay? I’ll make sure of it.”

And he means it with every fiber of his being. The deadly cold is one of the things that Gale’s brain has latched onto since escaping from the Stalag. One of the things that just won’t release its iron grip, like it’s lodged deep in his very being. He sees them in his sleep, the frostbitten bodies of dead men collapsed on the side of the road, nameless and forgotten. He can still feel the crystals of ice clinging to his eyelashes, burning his cheeks, as they marched through winter winds. His fingers stiff and useless no matter how deeply he shoved them into his coat pockets. 

Sometimes Gale is worried that he’ll never feel warm again. 

But then there’s always Bucky. Bucky holding him close, rubbing warmth back into his tired muscles, blowing hot breath onto his neck when he tucks Gale against his chest. His eyes soft and filled with warmth, his heart beating and so alive. The world sent John Egan back to him even when he thought he’d never see him again. A spark in the cold, dark world in which they were determined to survive. Everything about Bucky is warm, and Gale craves it like a drug. 

He lets his eyes drift closed as the hot water rises up his body, steam drifting upwards to warm his face. He lets himself surrender his full weight into Bucky’s embrace. His hand fumbles at one of Bucky’s, and Bucky loosens his grip on him just enough to entwine their fingers. 

Slowly, Gale’s body stops trembling. He lets the warmth overtake him. Focus on the rise and fall of Bucky’s chest against his back, the beating of his heart. Focus on the heat of the water and the way their skin slides against one another, wet and warm instead of frostbitten and dry. Focus on Bucky’s nose nuzzling his hair, puffs of breath tickling his scalp, and the way Bucky’s calloused hand engulfs his own. Focus on the feeling of safe. 

They’re far, far away from the Stalag. 

Gale wants to cry for everything he’s lost. All the good men who never made it home. He wants to cry for the innocent boy he once was, for the little pieces of dignity and sanity that were stripped painfully away, healed over with scar tissue that’s still tight and raw. He wants to cry for all of it. But he won’t. He draws in shaky breaths, wills his body to let go of the tension wracking his bones. 

“There we go,” Bucky is murmuring. “Good. I’ve got you. We’re okay.”

We’re okay. 

Two words that they have to remind themselves of daily. Like maybe if they say them enough, they’ll start to believe it. The war is over, but it doesn’t give up easily. It doesn’t let go. It doesn’t forgive. 

A little chipped, a little burned. They’re a little worse for wear, but they are unbreakable.

Gale huffs and focuses on the wet fingers carding through his hair, pulling it back away from his face in soothing strokes that never fail to calm him down. “We’re okay,” he repeats. If he can’t believe it right here, right now, wrapped up tight in Bucky’s arms in water so warm it feels like a sauna, then when can he believe it?

He has to believe it. 

Bucky hums and squeezes his hand. He says again, “yeah, we’re okay.”

[meanbossart]

Ask Compilation: Advice, influences and Misc.

Apologies for taking so long on some of these, admittedly I'm much more likely to entirely forget about asks that are about me and my interests 💃 Thank you for all the questions regardless! And thank you specially to everyone who just drops nice messages into my inbox out of kindness.

I'm brazillian and a native portuguese speaker!

I'll probably return to twitter eventually, but a) I hate that place and b) It didn't make much sense to me to turn it into a BG3 account out of the blue. I am considering making an Instagram or a new twitter just to have more places where people can follow in case they don't care for tumblr, but it's just been a very busy year so far and so that's kind of low on the list of priorities. If I ever do that I'll be sure to announce it here. Have a nice day yourself!

Sorry to hear that! I've gotten a few messages before about this issue, and the problem is that since I am myself not from the US, my options are also limited :( a lot of patreon alternatives don't work for me because they either don't go through paypal, take insane currency conversion fees, or just straight up block me from signing up.

Speak for yourself, I just assume everyone I speak to online has committed some sort of atrocious crime until proven otherwise. Except for me - of course. I have never done anything bad in my life.

I still have a lot to learn! But I will basically use whatever works for me at the moment, as well as make a sincere effort to learn about musculature and anatomy so I can understand those components and how they move, instead of only knowing what they look like when still - that's how you get better at drawing from memory. Volume mostly comes from coloring and understanding light, which is it's own beast but can very much be learned from similar reference materials and observing it IRL!

My favorite places to get reference are medical diagrams, weird pictures I take of myself, 3D software (often Virt-a-mate) and questionably phrased image google searches.

My favorite artists are Jason Shawn Alexander and Sean Murphy, but I'm not sure how much of it reflects in my art nowadays! I generally seek to pick up techniques from artists rather than to emulate style.

Honestly I love that you guys generally do the thing he would hate the most: take him very non-seriously LOL

I've been in a real Chelsea Wolfe and Amyl And The Sniffers kick lately! But usually you'll also find me listening to stuff like Boy Harsher, Swans, FWF, JK Flesh Lingua Ignota, Nick Cave, David Bowie, and so on. Music for the weird gays, basically.

I went insane and wrote a 23-chapter-long-and-still-ongoing fic in like four months. But also - I'm not that good, I'm just shamelessly pretentious LOL

Hm. That's a good question, but I'm not really sure. Sincerely not trying to be a edgier-than-thou here (in fact, this has made me a little self conscious at one time or another) but a lot of art that I don't mean to be horror-y in nature at all has been associated with the genre. So perhaps I don't know what I'm doing either, LOL.

I think just leaning on making things look slightly "wrong" or "ugly" on purpose is the way, but I also find that if you just seek to depict people as they are instead of idealized versions of themselves, you will arrive at that either way.

Thank you for reading! Honestly, I'm guilty of having not read much at all since I was in my late teens, and the style I'm employing for ANE is very different from the things I would call "influential" for me, or even that I used to enjoy reading at all before. I read a lot of Chuck Palahniuk as a youth (and, no slight to people who do like him still, but nowadays I'm not sure why I ever did. His stories don't speak to me at all anymore) as well a lot of weird experimental lit that I didn't even care to remember the name of. My last book stint from one or two years ago was composed solely of historical and medical literature, and last year I got really into Cormac Mcarthy thanks to the internet.

So, all in all, I'm absolutely all over the place LOL if you put a gun to my head and told me to list my favorite books, I'd say The Indifferent Stars Above and Blood Meridian.

(Consider the reading portion of the question to have been answered above) I really really liked Beau is Afraid and think it's a really great "horror" movie. Sue me.

[lingeringdesires505]

a pleasant birthday surprise

nagi x reader

fluff

nagi was absolutely wracking his brain for ideas on what to do for you on your birthday. should he get you a present? no, that just wouldnt work. he spoils you with presents all the time, it wouldnt be very special. what if he brought you out on a date? no, you guys went on dates all the time…

nagi wanted to do something himself to show you how much he appreciated you and just how lucky he felt being able to be your boyfriend. he wanted to get you something one of a kind, something that you could never get anywhere else. 

that’s when he came up with the brilliant idea to bake a cake as a birthday surprise for you. sure, you could get a cake anywhere and everywhere, but surely you cant get a cake baked by the nagi seishiro anywhere, right?

excited by the aspect of surprising you with something homemade, he quickly fished out his phone from the pocket of his jacket to search up recipes on how to make ( favourite flavour ) cake. 

the white haired man had never baked a single cake in his life, let alone baked anything. despite nagi being an extremely lazy individual, he would do anything for you to show how much he loved you, even if it meant doing something he did not like, and in this case, it was learning a new skill. 

anyways, baking couldnt be that hard, right?

nagi was wrong. so wrong. 

on the morning of your birthday, nagi had managed to wake himself up early and resisted the urge to go back and sleep. ( could probably be counted as the first surprise on your birthday ) the man was standing in the kitchen, shirt and arms covered in flour and other ingredients, fully engrossed in trying to follow and understand the instructions of the recipe. although his current batter didnt seem like it had the same consistency as what the recipe described, he shrugged it off, thinking that it would still be the same after he had put it in the oven. 

not even halfway through the process, he already started to regret choosing to bake a cake for you. his arms already felt tired and sore from mixing the batter and he couldnt help but start feeling drowsy from waking up so early. despite being tired, nagi persevered, thinking about how happy you would be to see the end product. 

after the cake was finished baking and was cooled, nagi decided to spread ( favourite colour ) frosting over it, covering the entire cake with it. due to nagi having poor control over the icing spatula, the frosting was incredibly uneven. no matter how much he tried to smooth it out, he would fail, ultimately giving up and just leaving it as it is. 

for the finishing touch, nagi had messily piped a “happy bday, love you ♡” with red icing on the top of the cake.

nagi looked at the finished product, proud of himself for being able to perform such an “incredible” feat. he then popped the cake into the fridge and sleepily walked back to your shared bedroom, slipping back under the comfy blanket, facing you, trying as hard as he could to not fall asleep while waiting for you to wake up. 

as soon as you awoke, the white haired man quickly jumped out of the bed, running towards the kitchen, wanting to show you the cake he made you. 

you groggily rubbed your eyes, what could this man possibly be trying to do, and since when was he so alert in the morning? 

before you could think of more reasons on why nagi was acting so weirdly, he marched back into the room, cake in hand with a couple of lit candles on it. 

as he steadily approached you, he smiled and started singing a happy birthday song for you. 

you couldnt help but feel extremely touched by his actions, had the laziest man youve ever met learn how to bake, just for you? a red tint formed on your cheeks as you couldnt help yourself from smiling too. 

when he was finished singing, he brought the cake closer to you so you could blow out the candles. that was when you took notice of the words he had messily piped on top. even though it took you a few seconds to process the messy handwriting, you soon understood what he had written, and you couldnt help but feel your heart melt even more. it was as if you had fallen for him all over again. 

as the both of you sat on the dining table, nagi hurriedly cut out a slice for you, excited for you to try the cake he had put so much effort in. 

as you placed a small piece of cake into your mouth, nagi was eagerly looking into your eyes, trying to see what reaction you would give. did the cake he made taste good? 

surprisingly, the cake actually tasted decent. seeing that he was obviously itching to know what you thought about the cake, you quickly swallowed the cake before giving your critique. 

“so how is it? it’s my first time, sorry if it didnt taste good…”

“no, nagi, this tastes quite good, especially since it’s your first time. this might just be one of the best birthday surprises ive ever had. i love you so much baby,” you said before you gave him a quick peck on the lips. 

nagi couldnt help but feel his heart pounding faster at your words, sending a rush of heat to his cheeks, making him giddy with delight from how you praised him. 

after the two of you had placed the remainder of the cake in the fridge, he handed you a beautiful bouquet of your favourite flowers and told you to get ready as he was bringing you out for a date. 

how much better could this day possibly get? you felt so lucky to have nagi as your boyfriend, to have a man that loved you so much he would step out of his comfort zone just to make you happy and content.

———————————————————————————

thank you for reading!

word count: 1k

feel free to request!

please dont steal

@lingeringdesires505 2024

[jupitermelichios]

so you've probably seen the news that riverdale ended with the main 4 in an actual, canonical, poly relationship

and that's amazing for a bunch of reasons, including the fact that the number of canon poly relationships on tv are miniscule and also it brings the number of canonically straight main cast members down to 1. Ethel is legitimately the show's token straight representation. love that for her

but to get the full impact of that news, you really also need to know that in order for the polycule to form:

Jughead's transdimensional angel girlfriend has to destroy multiple other timelines to create a new stable timeline for the polycule to live in. timelines destroyed include the one where jughead is immortal and trapped forever in a bunker underneath riverdale, and one where tony and fangs's magical timetravelling gay baby is fighting an evil wizard for control of a train full of evil ghosts

Jughead's magical transdimensional angel girlfriend then returns to the newly created main timeline, and restores the main cast's memories of all the other timelines, which she does by forcing them to watch the show riverdale. That is not a joke or a metaphor she even goes to the trouble to bring a colour tv back to the 1950s so they can watch in colour, except for Clay and Julian, because they did not exist in any of the previous timelines and they're sad about it and refuse to watch a show they're not in.

(Well, Julian technically did exist in the original timeline, but only as a ghost possessing a haunted doll, which doesn't really count)

(Also for some reason as well as the main cast, she makes dilton doily watch it, despite his only contributions to the show being a) dying as a human sacrifice in the og timeline, b) trying to blow up the planet and then dying because of it in the rivervale timeline, and c) gay kevin telling people he has the biggest dick in the 1950s tlmeline, and honestly, I feel like it would be kinder to just not show him any of that)

(ethel does not get to watch riverdale, because she did the only sensible thing any riverdale character has ever done and fucked off to a normal town to have an actual life, because as well as being the token straight character, she's also the token sane one)

After watching Riverdale, all of the main cast except Jughead and Betty decide it sucks and they hate it, and ask tabby to rewipe their memories and only give them the cute bits and not all the serial killers and shit, because the writers have run out of time for subtle metaphors and they weren't sure the audience had fully grasped that the entirely last season of the show is a weird metacommentary on the criticisms people have of the show riverdale so they're just straight up going to have archie andrews look straight to camera and say that the show should have been more like the comics

also I have no idea how only showing them the happy bits works, because that removes 90% of the entire plot so I assume they just have a bunch of completely out of context sex scenes and meals at the diner and nothing else. possibly also some musical numbers, idk if I'd count those as happy memories personally

Betty and Jug chose to keep their memories of the Gargoyle King and Betty's 2 long-lost secret gay serial killer brothers because they're edgy (and also because the writers are annoyed at all the people who say the show should be more like the comics, so they have the smartest characters say they liked the actually and everyone else is being a wimp about all the serial killers, because again, we have run out of time for subtlety)

Having had his memories restored, Jug's like "oh hi tabitha, my secret transdimensional angel girlfriend, I haven't seen you for months, I've really missed you. I'm so glad you're you're back. i love you so much"

And she responds by telling him that she'd chosen to write herself out of the timeline when she fixed in, and she has to return to the great big diner in the sky (not a joke, heaven is a diner in the riverdale universe and, it is heavily implied, also in our universe, so that's something to look forward to), so she freezes time halfway through kissing him and just nopes out of time and space. which is also how I would handle all break ups if I had angel powers tbh

since jug is now single, and all 4 of them just got multiple timeline's worth of fucking one another mainlined straight into their brains, the main 4 decide to all start dating

(they are probably inspired to do this in part by betty's sister, who in the new timeline is a burlesque performer who's stage name is Polly Amorous)

As far as I can tell from the last episode, they tell gay kevin about this and literally no one else, for reasons known only to themselves

also genuinely can't tell if this was the writers wanting a poly relationship for them, or if they just couldn't be bothered with the internet slap fights that would have followed them picking individual monogomous ships to be endgame

they also, hilariously, refuse to say that archie and jug are dating, I assume due to network restrictions, despite archie being canonically bi at this point, so betty's just like 'well sometimes I go to veronica's and we fuck, and the boys do... something we're not going to talk about'

the final episode of the show is a flash forward where as a now old betty is dying, jughead's ghost shows her memories of their teens, in which it's reveal that she has just straight up forgotten about being in a poly relationship

literally she looks at her teen self and is like "wow, I seem weirdly close to veroica jughead and archie" and Jug's ghost has to be like "because we were dating. how do you not remember that we were dating? what the hell? did I mean nothing to you?!"

also old betty specifically seeks out reggie and is like "hey you know how me and you dated, and you and veronica were together for years in multiple timelines, and you archie keep declaring your undying love for one another and nearly fucking, well we're all dating and we specifically decided not to invite you, sucks to be you" and walks away and I have no idea why she did it. justice for reggie

anyway RIP to the greatest television show ever made, it was so gay and so deranged and so meta, and there really will never be anything quite like it again

[magicicephoenix]

i need to go pound joey drew into a pulp RIGHT NOW

[rosicheeks]

Unfortunately relatable. I grew up in the church and have a lot of Christian trauma from that. I show up for special occasions for my parents… sometimes. But it’s uncomfortable from the moment I step through the door. Bigoted pastor, the self-righteousness disguising the prejudice, the political comments from the altar. Shots at young people left right and center as if the hell on earth wasn’t caused by the same older generation 90% of the congregation belongs to..

I miss being young in the choir and the youth groups and not struggling with it. It’s wild to look back at the younger version of me who was unshakeable in his faith and honestly just saddening.

I was texting my sister today about it and she said

“I 100% think ALL of us have a ton of religious trauma and everyone else in the family just doesn’t realize it cause they’re still drinking the kool-aid.”

I ran out of tag room and didn’t want to delete any 😭 seriously not lying I could write a book about all my thoughts and experiences

[pastel-rights]

And then I finally end it off with some doodles of them… they make me feel things.

[themthistles]

one of these days i'm actually gonna write meta on squall and how while he's definitely a terrible person, a lot of his villainous side is just an act he's putting on that has a million cracks in it and completely falls apart in moments when he's caught unprepared. ezra the boy peaking through the mask of squall the monster

[verdantrivers]

Why do you defend such an obvious villain like JGY?

i'm a horror movie fan, it kind of comes with the territory

[teddybeirin]

the closer i get to having to lay down in bed the worse and worse my mental state gets </3 even though i would love being asleep and resting were it not for the horrors.

[x-birdsong-x]

@lockandkeyhyena said it first. Halloween Ends is.. something.

Spoilers in tags

[faggotslime]

One of many things that drives me crazy about my childhood is lack of accountability.

Even after I was kicked out of my home, I was always told and attempted to be taught to leave stuff in the past.

'that happened a while ago, just let it go! It doesn't matter anymore! It's in the past!'

Curious how those words only crossed their lips when it regarded something I cared about or something that affected me.

But any time I messed up, stepped on toes, or was too neurodivergent, things from the past were always thrown in my face— the last time I saw my father, which was Dec 15 2023, he had a fullblown conniption and once again brought up my mom 'abandoning' me [ while she's actively in my life rn lol ], brought up how 'it was always ME who took care of you!!' and 'i gave you food water and clothes how dare you!!'. 'i did everything for you growing up, how dare you have feelings I don't agree with.'

I thought your mantra was leaving distasteful things in the past.

I've realized your mantra is actually not giving a shit about me as a person, just only as a concept that gives you a sense of superiority and control.

[ribbed-vault-heart]

🦇 fagnsfangs Follow

i dont want to start anything but @castlecrypttt has had the same familiar for 20 years and i dont think she ever intends to turn it...

🧛‍♀️ castlecrypttt Follow

"i dont want to start anything" then why did you @ me you braindead fuck?? willie has been with my family for so long because its his choice. he doesnt even want to be a vampire he enjoys being a familiar. and we take care of him, we give him as many flies and spiders and rats as his little heart desires. all you snobbish vampires who look down on having familiars dont seem to realize that its not a one way relationship. he helps us with our vampire needs and in return we protect him and give him lives. he's going to live far longer than whatever his normal human lifespan wouldve been, 20 years is nothing. and hes part of the family. keep out of our business you clearly dont understand

🩸 bloody-bloody-marie Follow

oh my g*d i cant believe there are still vampires on this site defending keeping familiars.

🧛‍♂️ fresh-blood Follow

genuine question, whats wrong with having a familiar?

🩸 bloody-bloody-marie Follow

are you seriously asking me about the ethics of keeping an enthralled servant that you force into doing your bidding...

🦇 fagnsfangs Follow

op here, i think youre seriously misunderstanding the concept of familiars. a lot of humans would love to have the opportunity to become vampires in exchange for a few years of servitude. the issue lies in when the familiar is promised vampirism and yet never gets it. and no, vampires shouldnt be using thralls to get their familiar to do its job.

🕷 blood-is-the-life Follow

familiar here, and no. i dont really care about becoming a vampire. that was never in the deal i had with my master. but yeah, do agree thralls shouldnt be used unless the familiar is okay with it

🧛‍♂️ vampire-guy-steve Follow

if you dont want to become a vampire then whats the point of being a familiar?

🕷 blood-is-the-life Follow

well for me its a sex thing.