#genuinely knowing my sisters probably don’t love me since i was like seven is a fucked up feeling

[gregmarriage]

rant incoming:

i’ve known my sister doesn’t think of me as her sister or really give a shit about me since i was like seven years old. nor does my other sister, but at least she actually tried to be a sister and played dolls with me when i was little. the other one never really tried at all. she’s older, sure, but what does that matter? are you too grown up now you’re 13 to play with your little sister? now we’re all adults, it feels like we’ve lost something. maybe we never had it in the first place. my sister basically saying me and my brother are nothing to her because we’re only a half sibling. probably explains why me and my brother are closer. my sisters have always lived away from us, but that doesn’t necessarily have to affect your closeness. my brother could eventually move out and it wouldn’t change anything between us. my sisters complain i don’t talk to them. but what do i say? you don’t think of me as a real person. as your real sibling. i’m just a person you go through the motions with. you just deal with me, because we share the same dad. what do we talk about? the fact that i don’t have kids or a boyfriend? a fact i felt you always looked down on me for, long before i came out. i can’t relate to you, i can’t go out for drinks and talk about guys. i have no babies to talk about, and even if i did, you’d treat them the same, and i wouldn’t wish that on an innocent child. i can’t talk about being autistic or mentally ill or my physical health issues, because i know you don’t take me seriously. you talk about me behind my back, but you won’t say anything to my face and that’s somehow worse. if you’re going to be cruel, at least be brave about it. i have absolutely nothing in common with you and i never did. you never care to know my interests. if i actually talked about any relationships, it wouldn’t be the same, you’d probably pretend i’m talking about a boy. you think i’m confused all these years later. i can’t get pregnant ‘the natural way’ like you did, so i don’t matter. any children i do have won’t matter to you. you won’t come to my wedding, i didn’t come to yours, not because i didn’t care, but because i physically couldn’t. i couldn’t do the normal wedding things and you’d get annoyed and it’s probably better i stayed home, otherwise i’d have ruined your wedding. my dad may not be the most tolerant person in the world, but at least he’d probably make an effort. you claim to be tolerant but i really don’t think you are. you say i don’t try to talk to you? why make an effort for someone who doesn’t care? who i don’t matter to? your son is half siblings with his sisters? he’s full blood to you. your other half sister is your full blood? your half niece is more of a sister to you than me? that’s nice for her, i can’t resent her, she’s a nice girl with not very good parents. i can’t hate her for anything. it’s not her fault she’s the better me in my sister’s eyes. not gay, not disabled in any way. so totally perfect. the little sister they’ve always wanted. i wish her the best in dealing with women who’s affections change at the drop of a hat. i hope she enjoys being the me i always used to wish i was.

#feel cute might delete later #i’m on my period but i’ve been upset by this since before i got periods but my period is the reason i’m making this rant #i honestly don’t know why the fuck i bother #even if i tried harder it still wouldn’t be enough #i’d still be basically a stranger in my own sister’s house #they also treat my dad like shit so i’m also angry on his behalf because he may not be perfect but he still doesn’t deserve their bullshit #and neither do i #genuinely knowing my sisters probably don’t love me since i was like seven is a fucked up feeling #my brain has tricked me before about my parents loving me but they’ve proved they do over and over again #my sisters don’t even try but they expect me to make an huge effort #i literally want to fucking scream #honestly why i’m glad i have my brother #he knows how i feel #i could say the things in this post and he’d understand and wouldn’t call me an asshole or a horrible person for even thinking it #because he feels it too #i’m also glad i have him because if it was just me and my sisters i think i’d be so incredibly lonely #he’s annoying in that way siblings are but i love and i know he loves me back #at least i have one sibling who actually gives a shit about me #my sisters making this about blood fucks me off so bad #half or full or not sharing blood at all #family is family #but apparently that only applies to one aspect of their life #i’ve tried my best all my life #how the fuck is a seven year old kid trying to make her sisters love her not a fucked up situation??? #i have never thought less about them being half sisters #i’ve always felt the same about them as i do about my brother who’s full blood #they’re all my siblings blood has never affected anything #it’s fucked to know that it’s not the same for them #i don’t know if it’s jealousy because me and my brother were the new babies but fucking hell you can’t hold a grudge for me being born #almost twenty four years later jesus christ

[theupsidedownsrealestateagent]

Operation Croissant

Dear Mr. Hauser,

Hi it’s Robin Buckley, you know your favorite student, or well I guess you probably already knew that based on the envelope. I get it’s been awhile since we’ve spoken on account that I graduated four years ago, and I refuse to be the student that can’t let go of high school. I barely tolerated it when I was attending. 

The reason I’m writing to you is that I fulfilled my promise, I actually made three friends from good ol’ Hawkins High (bleh) and you would never guess who they are. Are you sitting down? If not you really really should before you continue reading. Okay back to what I was saying, I made three friends for Operation Croissant. 

Nancy Wheeler, Eddie Munson, and um… Steve Harrington. 

You better not be looking smug Mr. Hauser, why do I feel like you’re definitely smirking right now? So yeah, somehow against all my best efforts Steve Harrington is my soulmate. Strictly platonic soulmate. The four of us (and I got permission to reveal this information I promise) are fellow friends of Dorothy. It’s okay take your time to process that, I sure did. I have a sneaking suspicion that you may have already known about me, and Eddie insists that you must have known about him. Subtle isn’t really his style. 

There was so much stuff about high school and life I was missing, and I never cared about until our lunches. For a long time I thought I was going to live this life alone. I didn’t think that this little group was an option for someone like me, like us. I was wrong, I was so wrong. I’m dating the girl of my dreams, she’s so smart, doesn’t care that I ramble a bunch of nonsense when I’m nervous, she is the most badass, beautiful woman in the world, and I found her here in Hawkins of all places. Then there’s Eddie who I know looks like that but he genuinely is the sweetest dude ever, I really wish he could’ve been there for our chats, the kid just needed anyone to confide in, to tell him he wasn’t a freak, that he wasn’t alone either. He’s smart too, smarter than what those teachers ever gave him credit for. Now for my Stevie, yeah he was an asshole back in school, but I watched him turn into the biggest dork of the twentieth century. We became reluctant parents to seven feral children together. I’m sure you’ve been acquainted with Dustin Henderson and co, for that we are all very sorry, we are working on them. So yeah Steve and I found out we practically share braincells, trauma bonded for life, we’ve both saved each other like at least seventeen different times at this point, but legally I can’t talk about any of those (trust me you don’t even want to know) so yeah Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley, sisters for life. We aren’t even the strangest duo in our group, Eddie and Steve are literally boyfriends and it is the weirdest thing that makes the most amount of sense if you saw how they look at each other. Nancy and I on the other hand are classy about our love (this is a lie, we are probably even more disgusting then the guys. But don’t tell Nancy.) 

Whew that was a long winded paragraph, hope it wasn’t too wordy and got my point across that I love these idiots, and if it wasn’t for you I don’t think I ever would have been comfortable enough with myself to find and trust them. I hope you keep finding those kids who don’t feel like they belong. Most of all I hope you are just as happy and fulfilled as the way you helped me to be. Thanks for everything Mr. Hauser.

Eternally grateful,

Robin Buckley

#all stranger things fans should listen to the Rebel Robin podcast #stranger things #ronance #steddie #operation croissant #rebel robin

[hocusbogus]

Favourite People and Why

my irl friends may get offended if I don’t include them in this list because sometimes we are their favourite people but they may not be ours. But then again, I have my favourite people for my own personal reasons and they bring out different parts of me that makes me happy, also they’re probably the best people I know. Some of my most fav people do not even know I exist. I’m gonna code this list so you won’t be able to tell who is who unless I purposely made it super obvious.

Big Baby. This has to be number one mainly cuz we are dating, they have to be first on the list or else there is no point in dating. Having the companionship, and partner to do a lot of things with was a feeling that I never knew I needed because as the eldest child and daughter my defense mechanism has always been to be independent, hence it was nice to have someone to depend on. Also because Big Baby has a peculiar sense of humour that amuses me, their love language is act of service which is same as mine.

Seven Heaven. Literally the epitome of love, I am so glad and ecstatic that we crossed path, they influenced me in the best way possible and I genuinely believed that they shaped me in the short time frame that I knew them. They are blessed to be loved by many, but at the end of the day I wish that they also have a private love that they could experience with depth. 

Blue Butterfly. One of the very few friend that is genuinely so selfless and has the biggest heart. They’ve been there since Day 1 of my adult life literally, helped me too many times and I don’t think I would be able to repay them at all in this lifetime. I wish them the world of happiness and I only wish to even be half as good of a friend as them but I don’t think in all my flaws I could even come close. I can’t imagine a world where we didn’t cross path and I knew that we were meant to be in each other’s life forever. We can go months without talking by the way, but I love them so much and they know that.

Green Earth. My lifeline and my safe space, always. The person whom I trust my whole life with, funniest person I know too. I don’t think there are things that I wouldn’t do for them mainly because of how much we resonated with each other. We’ve been through a lot of eras together and we’ve seen each other at our best and worst and somehow still stuck by each other. 

The Sun. Literal definition of the Sun in human form, funniest and most chill person ever, always up for anything and can also have the deepest conversation with. One of the very few high school friendship that survived, and a genuine one too. Someone you can count on always, and has the biggest heart too.

Lil Dino. Such a gem of a person, showed me different types of love and level in friendships and showed me something deeper than deep; I would never be able to guess that a friendship can go as far as ours did, but it did. Also makes me laugh the most and so precious as a human being.

Sunflower Girl. Been through a lot with them as well, a sister that I never had, I never wanted a sister but she was the only one that made me feel like I actually have one. The most accepting person even though we are like worlds apart but yet so similar. Blessed to have had her in my life while I was growing into my womanhood.

#personal #journal prompt

[honeystwiggypeach]

Hi! I saw you did a Gloxinia x Giant reader and I was hoping you could make another one?? Like their relationship is similar to King x Diane in a way? Just general headcanons or a scenario I'm not really sure what I want specifically since I don't see a lot of Gloxinia x Giant reader. Thanks a bunch!

Gloxinia x Giant!Reader headcannons

Omg yesss I can!!!! Back when I was like into sds a ton I wanted to write tons of giant reader with Gloxinia!!(personally I’m not great with the conflict aspects of sds so I tend to just void the holy war so I hope you don’t mind😭) thank you so much for requesting!!!! I know when I read Gloxinia x reader they didn’t have much of that!(pls if you ever want more of Gloxinia and giant reader let me know and request again!!! I genuinely love their dynamic and that style I’m not to sure why I stoped writing for them😭😭)

If I get an idea for a scenario of Giant reader and Gloxinia I’ll definitely write it and post it though!! I’ll think and if I come up with any for sure will write it cause they’re super fun to write for!!

I’ve also never like shared just my headcannons so it may not be the best simply because I’m not sure how to phrase it!!

Headcannons-

⚠️Light trigger warning?⚠️ reader and Gloxinia raising a fairy baby but in my head they adopted! It’s in the last 3 points that have it!!

So the two of you probably met when you like stumbled near the forest or something and he just found you like super cute!

He tends to sit like in the pocket of your shirt and it makes him feel so powerful cause he can see everything!!

Like I said I don’t really love the idea of the holy war so the two of you get to live happily!!

Gloxinia probably spends a lot of his time outside of the forest after meeting you because your a bit nervous about damaging the root system of the tree so he is very quick to agree with you when you ask if he wants to go on a walk through like Feilds!!

If your friends with like Diane and King and like actually travel with the seven deadly sins I feel like Gloxinia would try for like a few seconds to convince you to stay but once he realizes your set on going he definitely is ready to retire from being king and follow you around!

He will grumble about how he doesn’t want to follow but than whenever you look at him he’s like nvm besties🥰I do want to!!

He tries to argue with a few people sometimes mainly king they get into light bickering matches and Gloxinia will like fly up to your shoulder with his arms crossed 😭

I think that he definitely will try to sleep like in both your hands put together whenever he wants a nap or something😭 like he will just like lay down(probably if your shirt doesn’t have pockets!)

I think maybe his sister takes over after he steps down from king and maybe the two of you settle down in a cute little meadow, and raise like one fairy baby!

The baby is a girl and she’s 10/10 super cute and will follow Gloxinia around chest puffed out as they do chores together😭😭

Overall it’s super cute and wholesome!!! 10/10 relationship that I will have to think about more because I haven’t even watched it in so long!!

Now on a completely unrelated note, I want to start writing for MysticMessenger so if anyone wants something specific or just headcannons from that pls let me know! I love doing requests so much!!

#giant!reader #gloxinia x reader #gloxinia #Gloxinia x giant reader #sds anime #sds x reader #sds Gloxinia #seven deadly sins

[revoutionsingingintherain]

Alec and bracelets

idk why, but i can imagine Alec wearing bracelets in his non-dominant hand all the time. Like, he never buys them. They are given to him by people who are important to him, and he chooses to wear them and never take them off.

Robert and Maryse probably won't like them at first, because "Honestly, Alec, it's a girly piece of jewelry! You're a man!" but Alec won't care, because people gave it to him because he meant something to them.

For a pre-teen or a teen Alec, he was always in the shadows of Jace, and he did get used to it, but knowing that his family or friends thought of him when they made or bought their bracelets, made young Alec feel like he mattered to someone.

His first bracelet was given to him when he was seven, by a five year old Izzy. It would be mismatched colors, but strong enough to not break unless sliced by a blade.

"Alec! I made you something!"

"What is it, Izzy?"

She took his hand and slid a mismatched colored bracelet onto his wrist. Alec stared in amazement, a little teary eyed at the thought of his five year old sister making him something.

"It's a sibling bracelet! See!"

"A - a sibling bracelet?"

"Yeah! It's a bond that means that we will never leave each other and always love each other!"

Alec wrapped his younger sister in his arms. He was not used to show a lot of physical affection to anyone. His parents had taught him that it made him look weak, and so, he avoided showing any sort of emotion. But, his sister had made him something, and he was not going to not show his sister that he appreciated it.

"Thank you, Izzy."

His second bracelet was given to him by Jace.

The boys were sitting on Izzy's bed. Isabelle had had a nightmare, and Jace and Alec had promised her to stay with her. Izzy never asked for help. She believed that it made her look like she was not strong enough. But, she knew she could always rely on her brothers.

Jace and Alec were bored. Jace had started messing around with some bands and threads that Izzy had. Alec had stayed quiet, and occasionally closed his eyes, listening to Izzy's breaths, and Jace's irritated sigh, and the creaking of the wood.

"Alec?"

Alec opened his eyes and looked at Jace. Jace avoided looking at Alec in the eye, and for the first time since Alec had met him, Jace looked shy and insecure.

"Yeah?"

"I made you something."

Jace handed him a bracelet made of black and gold threads, woven together. Alec understood that the black represented him because of his hair color, and the gold represented Jace, because of his hair color.

"I just noticed that you wear a bracelet, and Izzy told me that she made it for you when you were young. I just thought, that this could show that you will always be friend and my brother. And I hope that one day, we can be parabatai. I mean, you're the first person who doesn't eat up all the bullshit that I say and -"

"Jace. I like it. Thank you."

The smile that Jace had given Alec that night, had been the widest and most genuine smile he had ever seen on the boy's face.

Max had given him a bracelet before he left for Academy. Alec had been surprised, but forever grateful to have something that his little brother had given him.

"Alec?"

"Yeah?"

Alec was gearing up for a mission, but paused, when his brother had called for him. Wordlessly, Max handed him a bracelet made with a blue that matched their eyes, and a silver that just looked so pure with the blue.

"This is for you. I know that everyone thinks that Jace is my favorite brother, but he's not. Jace has a lot of stories to tell, and is more interesting. But, Alec, you've always been my favorite brother."

Alec had slid the bracelet along with Izzy's and Jace's, and choked out a "thank you". His brother had nodded, and then, ran out in search for his father, or maybe Izzy.

Max's words replayed in his head. You've always been my favorite brother.

It was a few weeks after Clary had come back from the Alternate Dimension, when he got his next bracelet.

"Hey, Alec?"

Alec looked up from his documents, "Yeah?"

Hesitantly, Clary moved forward, and kept a bracelet on his table. The bracelet had threads that were woven in an intricate pattern. It had six colors of thread on them, and he knew it formed the Pride Flag colors. Magnus had introduced him to the LGBTQ+ community.

"The Alec that I met in the Alternate Dimension was openly gay. And everyone around him accepted him for who he was. He was really confident and comfortable. He was happier, Alec."

Alec stared back without a word.

"He was wearing a bracelet like that. I drew it from my memory, and pulled it out, like with the Mortal Cup. I hope that one day, you'll be as happy as that Alec."

Alec stood from his chair, and wrapped Clary in an awkward hug. He had not realized how much it would mean to him to hear that there was a universe out there, where he was accepted for his sexuality and wasn't forced to change himself, until Clary told him.

"Thank you."

Clary smiled and nodded at him, before she turned and left the office. Alec stared at the bracelet for a few seconds, before he slipped it on his wrist, behind Max's and smiled softly at the colors.

Magnus had gotten him one too. It was a few months after Alec had gifted him the omamori charm, that Magnus carried with him everywhere.

Magnus had been so nervous. He did not understand why. This was Alexander! His boyfriend, Alexander!

"Alexander?"

"Hmm?"

"I got you something."

"Is it my birthday?"

"No. I just saw something and I thought of you and I bought it."

"What is it?"

"It's a bracelet. I was with a client today, and he was making these, and it just reminded me of you. So, I asked him if he would make one in Warlock blue and Shadowhunter gold."

Alec took it in his hand delicately, and stared at it.

"He said that he puts these charms or something, that was supposed to bring protection and good fate. You know, a little like the omamori charm that you gave me. And I thought that you could get a little more protection, because I mean, you kill demons for a living, and -"

Alec kissed him. He didn't know how else to shut him up, and show how much he appreciated the gesture at the same time. So, he kissed Magnus, pouring all of his emotions into it, begging Magnus wordlessly to know how thankful he was.

"So, I take it, you liked it?" Magnus asked, when they pulled back. Alec laughed.

Simon had given him a bracelet before Asmodeus took away his memories.

Alec was supporting Magnus, when Simon approached him. Asmodeus was waiting for Simon, ready to take away his memories.

Simon took off the bracelet he wore. His father had given it to him when he was a child. It had three brown threads on it, and the center thread had a silver arrow on it.

Simon handed it to Alec, and said, "My father gave it to me when I was a child. I know that I won't have any memory of any of you, but I know that I will remember that bracelet. If I ever see you guys again, at least, I'll know that I knew you, and that your family - this family - and you were someone important to me. Thank you, Alec."

Izzy and Clary were sobbing behind them. Alec was stunned. Simon and him were never close, but they had a mutual respect for each other.

Asmodeus took Simon away, and the rest of them returned to New York. Alec had added the bracelet to the collection he had on his wrist. Clary had explained to him, that Simon's father had made it for Simon at a fair, and had told him that as long as Simon wore it, his father would always be with him.

Alec had cried that night. He hated to admit it, but he missed the nerd.

It was a few years later when Alec got his next bracelet. Magnus and Alec had adopted their second son, Rafael. It had taken some time for him to warm up to Alec and Magnus.

"Daddy?"

Alec looked up from his work. Rafael was sitting on the couch beside him. He looked at Alec with wide, innocent eyes.

"Yes, Rafe?"

Rafael pulled out a bracelet from his pocket. Alec and Magnus knew what it was. It was the only thing that Rafael had from his biological family. It was a single thread, with one bead on it.

"My real daddy used to wear this. But, now, you're my daddy. So, I want you to wear it."

Alec held out his hand, and Rafael tied it around his wrist, behind all the thin bracelets he wore. When he was done, Alec ruffled his son's hair, and smiled at him. Rafael smiled back, and leaned against his father.

His younger son, Max, had made one for Alec, like Izzy, Jace, and Max had.

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!"

Alec laughed, and picked up his three year old son in his arms, throwing him in the arm. Max giggled loudly, and Magnus and Rafael followed Max to where he was greeting Alec at the door.

"Hi, Max! How was your day?"

"I made you something, Daddy!"

"Really? What is it?"

Max held a small black thread with colorful, glittery beads on them. He put it against Alec's neck, and said, "I made you a necklace, Daddy! Like, Bapak has!"

"But, Max! This is so small for my neck! Why don't you tie it around my wrist? With the other ones that I have?"

Max pouted for a moment, before nodded. Alec held out his wrist, and Max tried to tie it around his wrist. Magnus, magically, tied the thread around Alec's wrist. Max beamed at his father, who beamed back at him.

Alec put his son down, and greeted the rest of his family.

But, he won't wear all of them all the time. There were too many of them, and after he would become Consul, he would have to look professional. Eight bracelets won't make him look professional, and he knew that.

So, he would ask Magnus to charm them, that if he ever lost one of them, they would magically return to his pocket.

He would wear the bracelet that Magnus gave him all the time. The others, he would tie them together, and attach it to his set of keys or slide them on his belt, so that they were hidden by his blazer (formal jacket).

Eventually, when he would become an uncle, or a grandfather, he got more and more of them. He would tell anyone who asked how he got the bracelets he had, and who gave it to him. All the little kids would listen to him, with wide eyes and fascination.

And when Alec would die, Magnus would made sure that Alec was wearing all of his bracelets, laughing through teary eyes as he recalled the stories of how he got the ones from his siblings or from Clary, or Simon. Rafael and Max would stand with their Bapak, and would cry with him at the amount of bracelets Alec had gotten from his family, and friends, and nephews and nieces, and grandchildren.

Anyways, it was just an idea that I liked a lot! Thanks for reading this!

#alec lightwood #alexander lightwood #magnus x alec #magnus bane #jace herondale #isabelle lightwood #izzy #simon lewis #simon lovelace #clary fray #alec and clary #clary fairchild #max lightwood bane #rafael lightwood bane #max lightwood #the mortal instruments #shadowhunters #warlocks #malec #sizzy #clace

[scott-mccall-the-hot-girl]

my ultimate guide to thiam fic !!

( as a new teen wolf stan )

-

the classic post war, long ass (multi chapter) fic !!with great development that genuinely made me laugh out loud, they have the best friendship in this & i love it very much. ( like theo teaches liam to drive and i just *happy sobs* ) a fundamental in thiam fanfiction !! all stans have probably already read it but if you haven’t this is in fact a threat ,, go show this vv iconic story some love !!

Airplanes - Captainmintyfresh

Summary: After the Anuk-ite and the hunters are dealt with Liam needs a break. Cue Theo and a road trip that Liam should know better than to think will be peaceful.

Not Rated, No Archive Warnings Apply, Completed, 43/43 Chapters, Words: 236,875 (236k)

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okay okay so this one is also post 6B !! but ,, now we introduce fighting monroe & the hunters again ,, so we get the boys & a new mission !! so if you like an intresting plot 11/10 would recommend !! just to be clear this ISN’T complete ,, if that turns you off i understand but definitely give this one a read !! it litterally have theo doing crossword puzzles & fighting zombies

Vacancy Signs - LovelyLittleGrim

Summary: Theo and Liam are in Manhattan negotiating a pack allyship when the zombie apocalypse breaks out. Now, the two of them have to find their way back to Beacon Hills without getting eaten by zombies or killing one another.

Rated: Explicit, Graphic Description of Violence, Not Completed, 15/17 Chapters, Words: 89,605 (89k)

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Royalty AU !! I REPEAT ROYALTY AU !! a fantastic au where i stan their moms more than i stan them !! genuinely so good at the childhood rivals to lovers trope !! i’m genuinely obsessed with this one. has made me cry more than once ,, hurts in a good way <3 the ending is just *chefs kiss* also one of the tags is genuinely: # theo and liam make bad choices for over 130k straight !! if that doesn’t sound appealing i don’t know what does !!

Artificial Love - songbvrd

Summary: Prince Theo and Prince Liam are forced to spend every Summer together from age five onwards. They hate each other, and usually find ways to make each other miserable as much as possible in their six weeks together. But when they're reunited because of intended unions as adults, things change. They're both supposed to be married to noble women, but neither of them is as interested in anyone else as they are with their childhood rival.

Rated: Mature, No Archive Warnings Apply, Completed, Chapters: 32/32, Words: 172,935 (172k)

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so if you are in the mood for a crack fic that’s not explicitally a crack fic this is for you !! okay so i’m really hit or miss with AU’s ,, sometimes i feel like they don’t quite capture the characters right but this story have the BEST dramatic liam i have ever seen in my life !! basically they all live in the same apartment building & it’s fantastic !! i saw this one floating around a lot but the summary didn’t really unrest me until i have it a shot !! so go read it rn !! also nolan & brett are genuinely fantastic and make me wheeze ,, LIKE ACTUALLY VERBALLY LAUGHING !! all i’m gonna say is that my fav characters are scott & the beetles but that won’t make actual sense until you read it !!

The Neighbors Song - TheodoreR

Summary: “I always hear you singing on your balcony every morning, but suddenly you’ve stopped?”

Or the one where Theo annoys Liam every morning with his awful singing until he doesn’t anymore and Liam is even more annoyed. Liam hates every single thing about his mornings -the fact that they happen in the morning alone is enough. The thing Liam hates the most about his mornings though is the terrible voice of the guy who lives below him. He can’t sing for shit and Liam tried to politely let him understand that by throwing flour and water on his balcony, and also by shouting it to him, you can’t sing for shit!, and then by writing it into a note he proceeded to attach to his door, but this Raeken guy just keeps doing it, every single morning, like a fucking rooster. Liam did nothing to deserve this. He probably didn’t do anything to deserve better either to be fair, he doesn’t expect to open his window and be welcomed by some angelic voice singing him good morning, he’d just be happy with nothing. Silence. That’s something Liam can appreciate in mornings. Just some bark from his dog and the sound of his misery and that’s it. But no, god forbid the new guy lets him have that.

Rated: Explicit, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Wanrings, Completed, 8/8 Chapters, Words: 42,814 (42k)

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me: i’m not a big fan of AU’s ,, proceeds to talk about ANOTHER au… OKAY BUT THIS ONE !! it’s not complete but the author has been updating regularly ,, vv slow burn !! but in a REALLY intresting way !! i lOVE LIAM IN THIS SO MUCH ,, he is such a diaster of a person and it’s wonderful !! they have a great dynamic & i’m sucker for general puppy pack content ( and erica reyes being a badass ) !! also theo plays lacrosse in this & i really like it ahhhhh ,, also liam is just being an artic monkeys stan the whole time & theo is like *que confused repressed gay noises*

Inglorious Roommates - honeyscape

Summary: A roommate is defined as “a person with whom one shares a room.”

Theo would say a roommate was more along the lines of, “The person who's the bane of his existence. The weirdo that sleeps for days. The spaz that exercises at 3am. The guy with a revolving door of annoying friends. An insufferable human being that Theo has no control over living in his room.”

Example: Theo hates his roommate Liam.

-

okay okay i hate myself but i have another WIP for y’all !! this one is jUST FANTASTIC. i’m genuinely so upset it’s most likely not going to updated again *incoherent screaming ensues*. for this story ,, it’s very theo-centric bUT thats bc it ends right before liam becomes a concrete member of the story !! ANYWAY: basic plot = theo & acquiring not one but two children ,, so #dad theo but he is still crusty & homeless and i love him very much. it’s just so GOOD !! just read if you want to experience my fav theo coming out story & him etching high school musical

Look who's talking - Captainmintyfresh

Summary: Theo had been labeled many things in his life. Evil, failure, monster. He'd never thought Father would be one of those things but as he looked across the table to a six year old with blue smears of bubble gum icecream across her face trying to coax the first words out of her sister. Finger jabbing towards Theo's face as she repeated 'Daddy' again and again he couldn't bring himself to dispute the label.

(Theo accidentally adopts two young werewolves)

Not Rated, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings, Not Completed, Chapters: 16/?, Words: 48740 ( 48k )

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so here me out: post-canon ( poetry like angst ) summer get away !! just the boys doing cute little domestic things together whilst pining !! theo’s guilt in this is just so powerful & aGjffkgkkfkvkdlv !! i think it’s so interesting to see how they interact in this one, it’s just very heart warming !! and it features one of my favorite niche teen wolf tropes of theo being great with like seven year old girls- it’s just so good ,, very much a wonderful little one shot that just makes your heart happy.

(next time i see you you'll show me) a hundred different ways to say the same things - cherrysprite

Summary: “...You deserve good things,” Liam says eventually. He makes sure not to look at Theo even though he can feel his eyes turn on him. Somehow he can already tell that Theo doesn’t believe him.

Liam instantly makes that the goal of this summer - making Theo believe him.

Rating: Teen and Up, No Archive Warnings Apply, Chapters: 1/1, Words: 28875 ( 28k )

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okay so this next section of fic recs is a bit different !!

two of my favorite authors !! and a compilation of fics i’ve read by them both !!

for context: these two have written some genuinely gorgeous fics, like pure poetry, they explore the real gritty & scary side of our boys relationship in such a wonderful way. they’ve both used some of my favorite tropes & i love them very much !!

whenever i need something soothing but so genuinely intresting & enticing these are my go to !! ( also they both write a lot of good nolan angst & some vv good fics with hayden )

go check out:

eneiryu

as well as fallingforboys

here are some of my favorite fics by them ~

darling i want you here in my arms (kiss the pain away, i know you can) - fallingforboys

even before you touched me, i belonged to you (all you had to do was look at me) - fallingforboys

memories linger like tattoo scars (but your touch on my skin is just as permanent) - fallingforboys

skin, bones, a stolen heart, and an ugly creature lurking underneath -fallingforboys

i don't know how to breathe in the place i called home - fallingforboys

whisper your gossamer truths into the shadow, maybe you'll find the answers you're searching for - fallingforboys

between the mountains and the valley we built a monument to our regret - eneiryu

cracked the hinges of the cage and waited for you - eneiryu

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okay and finally: since i am a self centered whore

my own fic: an rendition of the # elevator scene

it’s basically my version of post canon if we did get the kiss in the elevator. we got a classic liam pov in which he is has 12/10 for extreme bi diaster energy even whilst being shot at !! so go him ig…

Fuck Off, Fuck This & Fuck It! - nefelibata_peach

Summary: Liam thought to himself heart rate climbing, they were bound to be dead by morning. So he thought with everything but his brain and he kissed him.

Where Liam Dunbar is very confused, slightly traumatized, and just a bit scared but hey, aren't they all! Bad decisions ensue as two boys fight in a war they never did sign up for.

Rating: Teen and Up, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Chapters: 1/1, Words: 3558 ( 3k )

#this took me so long #please go read these or i’ll cry #fan fiction #fan fic recs #teen wolf fic recs #thiam fanfiction #thiam fic recs #thiam #theo raeken #liam dunbar #theo x liam #teen wolf fandom #teen wolf gay #teen wolf #ao3 #fuck you fuck this & fuck it #thiam fanfic rec #thiam fanfic #thiam is endgame

[aquamarinescarlet]

The Psychology of Us

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word count: ~3.5k

Warnings: mentions of smut (nothing explicit)

Summary: It seems like you’ll never get the answers you want, but little did you know…

Author’s note: This is probably my favorite story yet. It got a little steamier than I originally planned, but I think it turned out okay. I hope the explanation makes sense, it’s something I do use in real life so I thought it’d be fun to write about. Anyhow, thank you for everyone who read, and have fun with the last part :D

Taglist: @helloalycia @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xastrydx @trikruismybitch @b0mbdotc0m @ima-gi--na-tion @cristin-rjd @arealearp @1-800-maximoff @zarriaza329

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

“I know, I know, I’ll be at your place at seven.” You said to Angie as soon as she reached you.

The hallway was packed, yet you were still able to notice her presence.

“About that,” she sounded unsure, “I came to tell you about this small gathering Pietro is doing at his place tonight, and I was wondering if you’d come with me?”

“So I can be a third wheel? No thank you.”

“He will have other friends over too, don’t worry.”

“Then why can’t you go by yourself?”

“Because I don’t know any of them and I don’t want to be there all by myself.” She reasoned.

“Just stick by Pietro and you’ll be fine.”

“Please!” She pleaded, giving you her best puppy eyes.

You weren’t opposed to the idea of going to Pietro’s house, a small gathering would be a nice change of pace from your usual Friday night parties. But your mind was in a different place right now and a party wasn’t exactly on your plans. You couldn’t say no to her though, maybe you could sneak out early, who knows.

“Fine, I’ll go.” You gave in.

She cheered, hugging you eagerly, and walked away before you could change your mind.

It was Friday again and you were still stuck on the girl and her puzzle. You’d seen her seven more times in the past two weeks. Now you had compulsively read eight books in the span of one month. Eight books all due to her, it was more than Diego reads in the same time.

Even your family was starting to question this sudden new hobby. Aalways keeping yourself locked in your room or with your nose deep down into a different book wasn’t normal.

Despite that, you were no closer to solving the mystery that was the girl from the library. She refused to give you her name when you asked her for it. She refused to explain the logic behind her recommendations. She just had fun watching you drown in frustration.

You were close to giving up, to start avoiding her until you forgot completely about the whole situation. But you enjoyed these moments. You were excited at the prospect of seeing her, not that you’d ever admit it out loud.

Of course, all this excitment died down the moment she started to mock you for nothing, with that annoying smirk painting those perfect stupid lips of hers, growing your desire to wipe it off of her.

There was something, though, that caught your attention, something about the books she recommended. You enjoyed them, you savoured every story, every plot, every character. Diego always tried to get you to read some of his favourite books and you gave up after a few pages. But not these ones, you liked them, and you had to figure out what kind of spell she used to make you like them so much.

“I think I’m going insane.” You muttered while staring at the ‘map’ you had created on your bedroom wall.

It contained post-its, notes, the title of all eight books and the answers that earned you each recommendation. A pathetic attempt to find a connection between this whole thing.

“You are getting too worked up on this, I mean, look at your wall,” Diego, who had been hanging out with you this afternoon, gestured towards it, “it looks like something right out of a detective movie.”

“It’s not that bad,” you said exasperatedly, “I just need to figure this out.”

“Okay, two things,” he put up both his index and middle finger, “first: it is that bad, it’s just a bunch of books; and second: why are you so desperate to figure this out?”

“I’m not desperate,” you argued.

“Yes, you are.” You heard him mumble.

“And aren’t you even a little bit curious?”

“Not that curious.”

“I just want to prove her wrong,” you explained.

“Because you care about what she thinks?” He seemed genuinely confused.

“No, I-”

“Look,” he interrupted, “I know you. I’ve known you for a long time. You have never been one to care about what other people think of you. So why her?”

“I-,” you were at a loss for words.

Why did you care? It bothered when she insulted you, even though you knew it wasn’t true, and you’ve never been bothered by such things before. It bothered that she knew nothing about you and still had the nerve to deem herself better than you, even though this was all the more reason to not care about her opinion at all.

Was it really a bother though? Or was that just an excuse? And if it is an excuse, then what were you excusing? Why were you still doing this? You’ve been dragging this out for a month. Why were you so keen on proving her wrong after all this time?

You don’t need to prove to her that you’re smart: you get good grades, you’re the captain of the football team, you even have a scholarship in one of the best colleges in the area. Of course she doesn’t know any of this, but that’s not enough motivation for you to spend a month trying to prove her she’s wrong about you.

For all you know that crazy scheme of hers to recommend books could be fake. She could just recommend books she likes and hide the reasons behind those questions. But then why did you enjoy those stories? And why would she put up a whole facade to recommend some books to a random stranger she met in a library?

“Do you like her?” Diego’s voice brought you out of your own thoughts.

The look you gave him was one of disbelief. You almost wanted to laugh at his words.

“Like her? How can I like someone who pisses me off so much?”

“Then why do you keep going back?”

“Why I- because- I- I’m curious.” You didn’t sound as confident as you wished. It wasn’t a lie. You were curious. But curiosity was not the only reason you kept going back, although you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was.

“I don’t believe you.”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t know how to answer. Thankfully you didn’t have to when, with a quick glance at the clock, you were able to change the subject.

“We’re late.” You simply stated.

“For what?”

“I told Angie I was going to meet her at her place at seven,” you gestured towards the time, “it’s seven thirty.”

“I didn’t agree to this.”

“C’mon, please,” you pleaded, “it’s going to be a small, like, get together or something, and I know Angie will leave me alone at some point to makeout with her boyfriend.”

“Okay fine,” he gave in and you made a little celebratory dance, dragging him out of the house.

Since this was supposed to be casual and between friends, you didn’t waste any time at Angie’s, where you’d usually spend hours getting dressed and ready.

Pietro’s place wasn’t far, which you were slightly thankful for since Angie wouldn’t stop talking about him the whole ride. He’s such a good kisser. He’s so cute. Did you know he plays soccer? He looks so hot in his uniform… You love your friend, but that’s just too much.

As always you weren’t the first one’s, and by the amount of people it was far from a “small gathering between friends”. The apartment wasn’t small, but sure felt like it with the almost fifty people crammed in there.

You were greeted by Pietro himself, who offered you each a beer before pulling Angie in for a kiss, causing you and Diego to roll your eyes. You gladly took the beer, if you had to endure this, might as well have some alcohol to help.

Two beers later and your mind was no longer fixating on the girl-from-the-library problem. Instead you were having a friendly debate with some of Pietro’s friends about which college was the best, the typical rivalry. Having only Angie to back you up was making the whole thing harder.

“Hey Piet,” a tall blonde boy called out, interrupting the conversation, “is Wanda going to join us?”

“Doubtful, you know how she is…”

“Who’s Wanda?” Angie’s voice was laced with jealousy causing the boy to laugh dramatically, which only seemed to make her madder.

“She’s my sister, don’t worry,” he reassured her. It made sense, he had mentioned he lived with his twin sister.

You watched as he pulled Angie away from the group, probably to makeout, as you had predicted, and you looked at Diego, to stop him from commenting anything, only to find his place empty.

You left the group as well to search for him, and was surprised to find him shoving his tongue down some girl’s throat. You could’ve left them alone? Yes, you could. But did you? Of course not.

“Y’know,” you tapped on his shoulder, earning his attention, “when I bring you to a party so I can have someone when Angie left me, I expect you not to leave me as well.” You teased.

“Shut up.” He tried to sound serious, but the smirk gave it away.

“You owe me one.”

Feeling a sudden need to go to the bathroom, you let them be and went in search of one. You opened a door you thought led to a bathroom, but found yourself in a corridor which had other four doors that probably led to bedrooms, at least one must lead to a bathroom.

“Pietro, I already told you, keep that door closed!” You heard someone scream from one of them.

It wasn’t just anyone though. That was a voice that had been haunting you for a whole month now. Okay, haunting was an exaggeration, but still. You quickly closed the door, muffling the music and chatter.

As you rested your back against the wall, a surge of power took over you. The new information taking over all your thoughts. You had the upper hand now on this little game of hers. It was your turn to play.

Her door was easy to identify, being the only one with light seeping through the cracks, and you made no effort to be quiet or discreet when opening it.

She was sitting in her bed, long red hair loose over her shoulders, a book in hands. Her expression was soft despite the interruption, she hadn’t looked up, so she had no idea it was you who was standing there.

“What do you want Piet?” A mischievous smirk grew on your face.

“Wanda,” you uttered as if trying it on your tongue for the first time, earning the girl’s attention.

The shock that took over her features did wonders to your confidence.

“A beautiful name,” you continued, daring to take a few steps inside her room, “I see you favourite color is red,” you referred to the endless amount of details on her walls, shelves, bedsheets, all a different shade of red.

You walked further into the room, exploring everything in sight. She followed your every move with her eyes, too stunned to say anything. Were you crossing a line? Probably. Should you be invading her personal space like that, without a warning? Probably not. But she has been invading your personal space for weeks, so you couldn’t care less.

“Ah, you play the guitar,” you grazed your fingers over the instrument sitting on the corner of the room, “I didn’t think you had any talents other than insulting me for no reason.”

You were enjoying this too much. Your eyes landed on some pictures and notes clinging to a wall.

“Sokovia,” you said after reading one of the notes, “so you are Sokovian, that’s interesting.” Your gaze fell to her desk, a pile of textbooks stacked there. “Psychology,” you laughed, not because it was funny, but because it was going to piss her off even further, “you are more likely to drive your patients crazy than to actually help them.”

“How…,” you turned towards her, “did you…,”

“Get in here? Learn your name?” You offered some suggestions since she didn’t seem capable of finishing that sentence herself. “Pietro.” You simply stated and watched as her face went from stunned to mad.

“How do you know my brother?”

Was that jealousy you were sensing? Or was she just upset that he had told you stuff about her? You decided to play with it a little bit.

“He is a sweet boy isn’t he? So hot and so nice,” you teased and she advanced towards you, making you a little frightened, but not enough to back down, “it’s hard to believe you two share the same genes.”

Your face was mere inches from hers and you suddenly felt like the air was growing thick, making it hard to breathe. A feeling of warmth taking over your chest and stomach. In spite of all the discomfort, you managed to keep your composure.

“I so want to wipe that pretentious smirk off of your face right now,” she growled. Oh, how the tables have turned.

“Why don’t you?” You challenged.

Football had given you fast reflexes (except for that particular event a few weeks ago), you were ready to catch her hand if she tried anything. Instead of her fist or her palm, you were met with her lips attacking yours furiously.

The kiss was needy, hungry, desperate even. Your hands made their way to her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. It was a battle, a fight neither of you were willing to lose. Tongues fighting for dominance, teeth biting lips, jaw, neck, hands pulling on skin in such a way it would definitely leave marks.

Clothes fell to the floor as you backed her to her bed, pushing her onto the mattress, this feeling, a necessity for her, on the pit of your stomach growing ever more.

Safe to say your plans of leaving early were postponed. At some point during the night you had managed to find Diego and let him know you wouldn’t be needing a ride back home. Your disheveled state and red marks, which were already showing up on your neck, didn’t go unnoticed by him, but he didn’t have time to comment on it. You mentally dreaded the moment he would start with the questioning.

Some shifting on the bed caught your attention. Slowly opening your eyes, you were able to catch Wanda staring at you with a soft smile. Your back was facing her, so she didn’t know you were awake, but you could see her clearly from her bedroom mirror.

And what a sight it was.

“You’re staring.” You called out, and watched her face turn three shades redder out of embarrassment from being caught.

You turned around so you’re now facing her, although she wouldn’t meet your gaze.

“What’s on your mind?” She kept quiet. “Okay, wanna know what’s on my mind?” She nodded lightly. “Well, I’m thinking that I would have never, not in a million years, pegged you as being shy.” She tried to stifle a laugh while bringing her hand up to playfully hit you on the arm. “That’s more like it,” you teased.

“I’m not shy,” she defended.

“Then why won’t you look at me?”

“Because… “ she lost it mid sentence.

“... you’re shy and sweet, just like your brother said,” you recalled from the day you spent together in the arcade.

She hit you, yet again, on the arm, slightly harder this time, but not enough to hurt.

“Tell me this then,” you finally reached the topic that has been bugging you for weeks, “what was all this for? The mystery, the games?”

She fell silent, seemingly in deep thought and you got scared you had killed the moment.

“Okay, so maybe I’m a little shy,” she admitted and you celebrated internally while your face remained unfazed, “and that makes me scared of…”

“Talking to people?” You helped out, but she covered her face with her hands in embarrassment.

“Please, don’t laugh at me, I know it’s stupid-”

“It’s not,” you interrupted, uncovering her face, “go on.”

She took a deep breath before continuing.

“I’m scared of talking to people… especially people that I like.” Although it sounded like a confession, you weren’t exactly sure what it was about.

“So you liked me?” You asked in disbelief. “From the beginning?”

Her already red face was growing darker by the second.

“I had seen you before, with Diego, in the library, always complaining, always stating how boring it was,” she shook her hands in the air for the purpose of drama, “and it was annoying, but it was also cute and- and I always wanted to talk to you, but I never found courage to do it.”

To say you were shocked at the new information was an understatement. She liked you all this time? And you just thought she hated your guts for no reason? Wow, that’s precious.

“Okay, so…” you tried to say in the stunned state you found yourself, “how- why- the- why did you do all that then?”

“Because I had like, this sudden flow of confidence, and since you had this cocky personality I thought you would like someone who was the same, so I said what I said, and I did what I did and-”

“I started to hate you.” The way you acted when you first met must’ve hurt her.

“Exactly, and I thought I had screwed up completely, until you showed up again, and my stupid brain associated that to the idea that the way I had acted worked. So I kept it up. A persona, in a sense.”

“What were you planning to do then? Keep that act up forever?” The question made her slightly frustrated.

“I don’t know, I didn’t think that far, I just enjoyed your presence, even though you still seemed to hate my guts.” You laughed and moved closer to her, wrapping your arms around her waist.

“I did,” you whispered close to her ear, “I hated your guts, but I also enjoyed it, the games, the mystery, that’s why I kept coming back.”

“So it worked,” she said excitedly.

“It sort of did.” You stared into her green eyes, for a few seconds. “There’s something else in my mind too that I’ve been meaning to ask.”

“Ask away.”

“So… about the recommendations-”

“Oh my god,” she didn’t let you finish, “you haven’t figured that out yet?!” She exclaimed in disbelief, when she opened her mouth again you knew what was coming.

“Don’t say it.” You warned.

“You really are slow.” She said it anyways, a mischievous grin painting her lips.

“Damn, I hate you,” you said jokingly, unwrapping yourself from her and making a move to leave the bed.

She stopped you short, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and pulling you back, causing you to fall on the bed laughing hysterically.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I won’t say it anymore.”

She let you go and sat up and across from you.

“Good, so are you going to explain it to me or not?” You questioned and she rolled her eyes playfully. “And don’t you dare tell me there is no logic behind it, there has to be one.”

“Yes, there is a logic,” she mocked, “it’s quite simple actually, the ‘color’ is what sets the mood for the book.”

“How so?”

“Uhm, like, we associate colors with stuff, like black is associated with death and evil and white is associated with peace and purity,” you nodded, “it also works for feelings, associating those with colors, so when a person says a color I can pick a book that has elements that are associated with that color, or that causes a feeling that we associate with that color.” She explained.

“That explains the psychology major thing.” She seemed happy you remembered, even though it was mere hours ago.

“Basically,” she agreed, “so, ‘person’ is what defines the relationships that surround the main character, so either romances, friendships, families, strangers, y’know?”

“Yeah okay,” you tried to follow along.

“And ‘place’ is to decide how far from reality the story should be, if the person says a place that’s close to their home, they tend to prefer stuff closer to their comfort zone, so no fantasy or sci-fi, and vice-versa.”

“That’s it?”

“Yep,” she beamed a smile, “simple isn’t it?”

“Does it always work?”

“No, it’s a really subjective thing, the more I know the person the better, but sometimes it just doesn’t work.” She admitted. “It worked on you like a charm though,” she teased.

“That it did,” you couldn't deny. “Okay, so if I got it right, color sets the mood, right?”

“Right.”

“Then what is red associated with?” You looked around her room, filled with several details in red.

“Anger, love, passion-,” she stopped talking when she met your eyes, a mischievous smirk on your lips.

You slowly rose from your position and crawled forward, never losing her gaze. You quirked an eyebrow suggestively as you got closer. You sat on her lap, faces inches from another.

“Well, I can show you some passion.”

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda x reader #mcu #marvel #fluff #ittle bit of angst #wanda x you

[ddarker-dreams]

FINALLY SOMEONE SAID THE TRUTH.

I admit that i enjoyed act 3 but it feels like really rushed i have so much complain with that.

The build up until act 2 was so good it give us so much premise but the final blow si meh. Sorry that i want to share thing long rant with you

1. Why the final talk is with yae, no offense to her but we need ei to explain not to mention she witness khaenriah downfall so she can give us more information, i feel like they do it for the plot armor so they can just keep dragging this

2. So many things that quite inconsistant, the shogun is show no mercy to anyone that even did a little thing outside what she think its right, how come she can still have a talk with signora, when sara is falling like that, and also there is no clarification about sara right now.

The traveler was so done at first they refuse to help thoma and ayaka at the beginning. But they seem so happy and forget everything how come they are not RAGE ( okay maybe this is to bias and personal) when this nation provide nothing about our siblings information and also why they are not mention anything about their problem in ei stroy quest. Its nonsense! She is right in front of youu, ask about your siblings, ask about khaenriah, ask about ukmown god!!. How come they can just forget like that. Also mihoyo really waste the potential about twin things i thing ei will give us so much help bcs of the sympathy that we both rn lost our twin but noooo.

3. Kokomi seem lost some brain cell, she make a very succesfull grand intro but she become meh in act 3, how come a great strategist like her let the sus sponsorship slip just bcs they are desperate, not to mention her screen time is really small and her role seem so unsignificant and it feels lile she is a plain npc.

4. The awesome world quest that we have done doesnt get any mention at all! Inazuma owe us so much with cleansing sakura, thunder sakura, tatarigami, obarashi quest. It has so much potential that yae or ei or anyone else aknowledge what traveler has been done but nooo.

cracks knuckles... i suppose it's time for my promised dissertation. interestingly enough, you touched on a lot of the main issues i had with chapter III.

i think that if i had to pin the main issue, it's a lack of overall cohesiveness? we were jumping all over the place without the chance to ever flesh things out. inazuma is a smaller cast, but i feel like we didn't get to see any of them shine. since i'm most interested in the genshin characters, i'll break down my problems by going over everyone and their (lack) of impact on the story.

was ayaka not questioned or placed under suspicion for being close to thoma before his escape? i wanted to see her broken up over her duties as they relate to the yashiro commission, paired with having someone she genuinely cares about in danger. it would've been an interesting struggle if she was forced to choose one or the other. instead she just kinda took a back seat.

speaking of thoma, i don't even have anything to say, because he just... was there? for .0001 seconds. said "lol this sucks ig" and that's about it. i know we're going to get a story for him in the future since he's a 5* but i'm not getting my hopes up 😭 then in the raiden shogun's character story, man is peachy keen! be upset with the raiden shogun! have some inner conflict! even if it's just using loaded language because he's under surveillance for going against the raiden shogun, that'd be so cool. saying something like,

"Traveler, what's with that expression? Oh please, there's nothing to worry about. We're under the Statue of the Omnipresent God's protection. Nothing bad has ever happened here." *wink*

i also don't know what to say about gorou. he was... there....... i think. what is he fighting for? what are the stakes for him? what makes him place so much trust into kokomi? i'm out of things to say about him because i don't remember anything he did or said.

kokomi... oh kokomi... i was so hyped. so excited. i thought that maybe we could see a foil to the raiden shogun. that she'd have a moment where she's forced to realize, just like her opponent, sacrifices must be made that will hurt people who will never understand why she made them. or maybe something to show her military prowess. but instead she just accepts a mysterious patron's help (?), sees her people aging like the grateful dead from JJBA, and goes oh well. that sucks. what can ya do. oh bye traveler i guess, good luck with that. ????????????? HUH... similar case to thoma where she's gonna get a character story but like. she won't be the leader of the resistance anymore. that was her whole shtick. they took her shtick away. also she forced me to interact with more NPCs whose names i've already forgotten so i'm tilted about that still.

KUJOU SARA... AN INJUSTICE. A DISGRACE. a slap to my woman loving face. the build up was there. yae miko's comments about sara probably knowing the tenryou commission is involved in shady dealings, but is choosing not to think about it. sara being forced to confront reality and challenge her adopted father with the truth. being able to blaze a new path for herself in the process. when she started running to the raiden shogun i was ultra hyped up. sara, a devotee to the shogun for so long, was about to see her god interacting with the same people who led inazuma to this awful state. how would she react? would she stay ignorant, like yae miko so coyly said, choosing to look away in favor of following her god's footsteps? or would she be forced to recognize the raiden shogun isn't as divine as she once thought, and challenge her belief system?

we open the door to see the raiden shogun. the loading screen ensues. the camera pans to the ominous room, clouded in darkness, hinting at the ominous confrontation that is to come. the music takes a serious timbre. and then...

well fuck that potential character arc i guess. (we still don't know what sara made of any of this since she poofed out of existence from the story at this point)

kazuha also was handed a similar treatment. we've been with him for a while longer now. he is our introduction into inazuma, the one who first gets us emotionally involved by regaling us with the bittersweet tale of friendship that led him to becoming a wanted criminal. a kind soul who loves nature yet was dealt a cruel hand by fate, forced to watch his home nation turn into a hostile place, where his dear friend ultimately perished as a result. we get the scene with his friend's vision lighting back up. he parries a block from the raiden shogun, in the same area where his friend was killed by her. the parallels. the drama. except this time, he wasn't too late. he protected the traveler where he "failed" to protect his friend in the past. did he feel redemption at this? or was it a bittersweet reminder of what could've been?

WELL i guess we'll never know because we didn't get to talk to him again 😭 idk who got a bait and switch worse, him or sara. jesus christ mihoyo.

then we have signora. why is the raiden shogun talking to her? does she know about the gnosis being taken, and if she doesn't, what was her plan to get it from the archon? what does she think about scaramouche? and oh, okay, we're fighting here now. good fight + god tier music. pog pog. okay, now we've beaten her up, and raiden shogun wyd— wait no not signora her lore is still on CUPS not YET raiden shogun and— ah she's dead. okay. non nerds who didn't read artifact lore are going to know nothing about her. signora has such an interesting story, and yet... well. ok.

then we get raiden shogun redemption (?) arc. i was hype for this as well, though at that point, idk why i bothered being hype. i knew they were gonna do a cute power of friendship something or another, and i'm good with that, so long as it's executed well. what i was envisioning was like seven different buffs to correspond with the seven different visions, the dreams of those whose ambitions were stolen serving as the spear to penetrate the raiden shogun's heart of stone. maybe a hydro vision giving us extra healing for a time, with the voice acting over it being like,

"Even if the rest of the world forgets us, let our will carry you through this one final time. Succeed where we couldn't, Traveler."

so on and so forth.

but instead we got— you get the idea at this point. why bother spelling it out anymore.

at that point i was surprised the raiden shogun didn't go "oopsie woopsie!! we made a fucky wucky!!!" because that was the vibe i was getting. i love ei, don't get me wrong, but i wanted to see her challenged with what she had done to inazuma in the past year. maybe meeting NPC #2345259 who lost her sister to the vision decree or something, reminding ei of the love she held for her sister... being forced to come to terms with the extent of what she's done in pursuit of eternity.

anyway. please for the love of god mihoyo hire better writers for the main story. that is all i ask. thank you.

#genshin impact spoilers #answered #Anonymous

[teyvattherapist]

Episodic

My sister and I had a long talk about how we both suffer from dissociation earlier today cause of an ask I got. And I got inspired to write a lil smth. This is based off of my experiences for the most part so anywayss.

tags: gn!doctor!reader + Kaeya, feat Diluc + Venti, dissociation, Kaeya story spoilers, Diluc story spoilers, mental health in general.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lies, so many lies, that’s all he was made up of! A liar, a cheat, a fraud, a dirty traitor. Years ago, well into his teens, he wouldn’t have cared. He didn’t give a damn whether or not the nation burned to the ground, he didn’t care if Teyvat as they knew it was ripped away from them and destroyed. But he was older now, and he cared so much. Oh too much. Torn between loyalties, his royal family who abandoned him to help them or the nation that loved and raised him. The lies stacked up, the nightly duties, the work within the shadows, the information he gave to his informants.

The lies were bearing down on him, he was being crushed, lungs screaming for air. It was almost like he was drowning except the ice above his head stopped him from surfacing for air. Kaeya Alberich could swim but he was not strong enough to shatter inches of thick ice. Every drop of water that filled his lungs, every lie that he needed to keep track of, they all froze over eventually. He was heavy, his body felt heavy, his shoulders hurt, and taking in air was a chore. He wished he’d just drown, but he kept scrambling, slamming against the ice, would anybody come-

“Are you even listening?” Diluc sighed, setting the glass down on the bar counter loud enough it shattered Kaeya’s thoughts and he lifted his head from his hand, star pupil blown as he looked around quickly. Diluc raised an eyebrow at the reaction, not expecting it from the ever composed cavalry captain he once called brother. The bar was relatively empty, Venti was asleep at a table tucked in the back. You were leaning against the wall while you did some work at the bar. Kaeya’s breathing was shaky, he realised as he tried to intake air, fill his lungs, stuff down the suffocation.

“Kaeya?” You set your quill down, concern quickly taking over your features. Diluc grabbed the glass Kaeya had been drinking from, opting to dump whatever remained. Kaeya didn’t even react to Diluc’s actions, instead he opted to look at his hands, opening and closing them, he did the action with his palms up and then repeated while looking at the back of his hands. Being a doctor for the knights, dissociation wasn’t the hardest thing for you to recognise. Approaching the situation, however, that was what became difficult.

“I don’t know how much longer I can endure this.” Kaeya’s voice was so weak, like he was testing out a tongue that didn’t belong to him. You stood immediately, Kaeya turning to you in surprise from the sudden action. You held your hands out and Kaeya looked at your waiting hands, he blinked and then looked up to you where he received a quick nod in return, a reassuring smile on your face. Kaeya put his hands into your own, his hands were surprisingly warm even through your gloves, slender fingers curling to intertwine with yours.

You gave his hands a gentle squeeze, he could feel two different sets of eyes staring at him outside of you directly in front of him. The weight of the world was so heavy and he felt himself slipping beneath the current again, it was relentless, endless, it dragged him down, the frozen lake was so dark- “Describe how my hands feel, please. What do my gloves feel like? Temperature?” You did your best to keep your voice reassuring, exceptionally kind as you crouched slightly so you could be at eye height with Kaeya who continued to sit.

The words dragged him to the surface and he struggled to remember who he was beyond all of these damn lies. There were so many lies, so much to hide, so many ties and loyalties oh how they swirled in his head. But he had to focus on the feelings of the gloves, thankful his seemed to be fingerless. “Cotton, your gloves feel like cotton.” He got a reassuring squeeze, an affirmative. Diluc snuck out from the bar, heading to the tavern door to lock it, sure an hour early, but given the circumstances.

“Okay, anything else?”

“Cold.”

“Haha, very good. Do you know your name?”

“Kaeya Ragnvindr. No, wait..” He trailed off, eyebrow furrowing. “I changed it, Alberich.” You quickly nodded, prompting him to continue. “You smell like mint and I smell like wine. Or is that the redhead? I’m not sure.”

“Both, probably.” Diluc responded casually, as if his heart didn’t just shatter hearing Kaeya say his old last name as his own once more. How long had it been since Diluc tore that family name from the navy haired captain? Diluc got closer, standing behind you, enough distance from Kaeya not to overwhelm him, but close enough he could watch.

The water still lapped at his legs, threatening, stabbing into him and trying to drag him back in. But he clawed at the sand, finding hold in the frost covered shore. “Are you back with us then, Kaeya? If not, you could try describing one of us.” You squeezed his hands again and Kaeya slowly nodded, his brain fog was lifting at least, he wasn’t entirely focused on the frozen lake anymore. When had he broken through the ice?

“Whoa, sorry- What happened there?” Kaeya pulled his hands back suddenly, gripping his head in one hand and shaking it with his signature laugh. Diluc had been frowning the entire time, and your reassuring smile vanished in an instant at his new words. “What? Don’t look at me like that, it’s embarrassing.” Kaeya smiled, turning his head to survey the rest of the empty tavern.

“You were having a dissociative episode. I’d offer a mora for your thoughts but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why.” You stood straight again and Kaeya wished you weren’t on his blind side, that way he’d be able to see without turning towards you, instead the cavalry captain eyed the sleeping Venti in the corner. “I’m not going to ask you to talk to me, but at least talk to Diluc about what’s on your mind if nobody else. It will only get worse from here.” You moved by the redhead who made no objections, and you began to gather the paperwork you had been working on.

“I promise, I’m fine. You’re worrying over nothing. And you, Diluc. I didn’t expect such concern.”

“We grew up together. Of course I’m concerned. You’re one of the few competent knights, and they need you to be on your best.” Diluc had his arms crossed over his chest, but he genuinely was trying not to seem so malicious, despite the biting words of his former brother. “How often has this been happening?” Diluc inquired, waiting for Kaeya to actually look back at them, but he never did, calloused fingers gently tapping the wooden bar countertop instead. “Okay, when did it start, then?” Diluc switched questions with a nod from you.

“A few months ago. They only lasted a minute or two, and I’d barely remember what happened. Recently the times I’ve blanked have been longer. I don’t remember what happened since coming in here.” Kaeya’s voice was quiet, low, ashamed maybe. He was so tired of it all, the lies and the burdens. He didn’t want to be a plot point or a chess piece. He just wanted to live his life, free of the whispering secrets of the dark.

“That was seven hours ago. [Name], is that normal?”

“Quite. Some dissociative episodes have been known to last years. The hours will turn to days, days into weeks. You know how it goes. I’ll bring Venti home so you two can speak.” You pulled your bag over your shoulder, heading off to grab the drunk bard from the corner. “Come on, bard. You can stay at my house.” You lifted the man easily, letting Diluc silently unlock and open the tavern door for you. The door was shut and locked once more.

“You don’t have to pretend to care, Diluc. I’m fine.” Kaeya pushed his barstool back, standing to his full height. He was exhausted, his brain fog may have been gone but his body still didn’t feel real and every step he took felt like walking on pins and needles. It didn’t help when Diluc blocked the door though, the usual bored expression replaced with something else.

“I do care, idiot. Whether or not you believe that isn’t my problem. You’re still my brother, even if we never shared any blood. Now you’re going to sit down and we’re going to talk about what happened that night, do you hear me?” Diluc lowered his arms, gaze dropping to anywhere but the captain. “Please, just talk to me. I won’t push you away this time.”

“Do you promise?”

“Obviously.”

#Kaeya x reader #not really but you're familiar with him #Genshin Impact #Genshin x reader #Kaeya #kaeya -handshake emoji- lane suffering from Stress #i've been depressed okay don't @ me for the sad posting #LET THEM BE BROTHERS AGAIN MIHOYO #Lane Writes #s/o to the person who sent the ask I will get to it

[navegandoaciegas]

no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: catholic priest!Bucky, virgin!Bucky, desecrating thoughts and actions, explicit language, smut, consensual sexual acts, mentions of loss of virginity, slight innocence and religious kinks (nothing disturbing), oral sex, fingering, masturbation, sex in a public (and sacred) place.

Summary: As punishment for your sinful behavior, your parents send you to your aunt’s house in the middle of nowhere, in hope you’ll redeem yourself. The punishment quickly backfires when you take an interest in the local (and handsome) priest, and you manage to corrupt his pure soul.

A/N: I was in a priest!Bucky mood this morning and I wrote this for @saiyanprincessswanie​ writing challenge. I chose prompt 17 and the ‘opposites attract’ trope. I hope you like this!

Filth and happy ending ‘cause I’m a sap. Take me to church by Hozier inspired this.

This is not a dark story and both reader and Bucky are consenting adults. Fyi, catholic priests can’t marry, and they change their name when they are ordained. We’ll pretend James is the name he took as priest.

You look over your shoulder to check if anyone’s around and knock on the backdoor of the church, waiting for your lover to usher you inside. The sinful secrecy of it all, the rush of excitement, your love for all that’s forbidden: you’ve never felt more alive.

Being forced to spend the summer in the middle of nowhere is not the way you expected your senior year of college to end, but not all evil comes to harm, and in this quiet little town, you’ve become quite interested in the local priest. In your defence, boredom is the root of all evil, and in your case, evil happens to make you horny and prone to making bad decisions, and Father James is young and handsome, so it was only a matter of time before he gave in the temptation of the flesh and you found yourself fucked against the altar. 

Ordained or not, he’s only a man after all.

-

The confessional is dark and suffocating; behind the wooden screen, the priest is all ears.

Muscle memory kicks in when you do the sign of the cross and begin to speak. 

“Bless me Father, for I have sinned.” you recite the formula that’s been ingrained in your mind since you were old enough to need it, “My last confession was seven years ago.”

You mentally curse your parents for still having the authority to send you to Bumfuck Nowhere, Alabama, and your aunt for forcing you to attend church and confess your sins. 

It will be good for your soul, they said, New York is corrupting you.

You suppose it’s only fair that your good catholic parents would react so drastically; they wanted to surprise you in your new apartment and drove all the way from Rhode Island to New York, only to find your piano tutor buried balls deep inside of you. Lord knows what they’d do if they knew you’ve lost your purity long before that, with one of the good catholic girls in your private boarding school. Extramarital sex, with a woman at that! They’d probably have a meltdown, drag your to a cloistered convent and lock you there for life.   

You don’t wait for the priest to acknowledge you and start talking.

“You know Father, I found a handy dandy little list of all the sins you’re supposed to confess to and I checked them. I’ll read it to you. Let’s see.” you clear your throat, “So, I use artificial birth control, I broke a couple of promises, including the one to wait for marriage, I can be kind of blasphemous sometimes, but you see, I spent six months abroad in Italy last year and the kids there taught me all sorts of ways to disrespect the Lord, they have so many, and once those things get stuck in your brain... what can you do, they just stick in there, you don’t even want to say them but they become part of your vocabulary.” you continue uninterrupted, “Anyways, my parents caught me in the act with a man, so I guess we have ‘dishonoring family’ too. Underage drinking as a kid, a lot of that. Drugs sometimes, nothing major, ya know, I don’t do coke or nothing. Gossiping, impure thoughts, God-”

He interrupts you clearing his throat.

“Sorry. See? I don’t even do it on purpose. As I was saying, I love those. Lying... not a whole lot to be honest; to my parents, mostly. Haven’t prayed in a good 10 years. Masturbation, did I mention that? Watched porn a couple of times, ‘m not a big fan if I’m being honest, but to each their own. Oh, and premarital sex, a ton of that. Had an orgy once, not too fond of those either. Too many limbs.”

There’s a lot to unpack here, so you give him a moment to ponder his thoughts. He stays silent for a while, and when he speaks his voice is not at all what you expected it to be. He’s soft spoken yet commanding, and sounds surprisingly young.

“Anything else you can remember?”

“Well of course, the cherry on top, my own first class ticket to hell.” you say, not as cheerful as before, repeating the exact words you’ve been taught for years, “God gave me free will and I used it to commit homosexual acts, Father. Multiple times.” 

You let the words hang in the stuffy air of the confessional; you don’t know what to expect from the priest, to be honest. Last time you admitted to thinking of a girl to a religious figure, Sister Theresa told you you’d never have to act on your impulses, or you’d burn in hell for it. You were 12. 

“You think that’s worse than the rest?”

“Not me, no, I don’t.”

He hums thoughtfully. “What makes you do the things you do?” he asks, and you don’t feel any of the judgment you were expecting, only genuine curiosity.

“Aren’t you gonna ask me to repent for my sins?” you reply, equally as curious.

“Is absolution what you’re seeking?”

You snort, shaking your head. “I’m not looking for forgiveness, Father, and I’m way past asking for permission.”

“Then why are you here?”

“My aunt forced me.”

It’s his turn to snort this time. “You don’t seem the type to follow orders blindly.”

You admit the guy’s got a point. “I guess… I don’t know. I felt the need to. It feels nice, talking to someone. I feel lonely a lot, and it’s easier to talk to strangers. And this is cheaper than therapy, so that’s a bonus. Really, I just need to vent.”

“Do you regret any of your choices?” he says, after a while.

“Not the ones I confessed to.” you admit, trying to discern the priest’s figure behind the screen. 

“What is it, then?”

“You know, you’re kinda chill for a priest from Alabama, I gotta give it to you.” you respond, dodging his question.

“Thanks, it’s probably because I’m from Brooklyn.”

“What the hell-” 

“Language.” 

“Sorry. Why would someone move from Brooklyn to this place?”

“Vocation.”

“I see.” 

It’s silent again, but it doesn’t feel uncomfortable.

“You should come to the parish sometimes. We have meetings, we sing, we eat together, the children play football and the young adults talk about what it means to be a Catholic in the modern world. It may ease your mind about a lot of worries and misconceptions you might have.”

You contemplate on his words: it wouldn’t hurt, would it? It’s not like you’ve got a whole lot going on here; and you might as well find yourself a devoted man or woman to pass time. 

“I might.”, you finally respond, not willing to give him the satisfaction, and stand from the chair. “I’ll see you around, Father.”

“May God give you peace, miss.”

“Amen.”

-

“What took you so long?” James asks, grunting when you pull on his hair.

“My aunt asked me to make lunch for her husband, as if he couldn’t do it his damn self.” you respond, and suck on his bottom lip, “Missed me?”

“Always.”

You coo, “My eager boy.”

He’s sitting on his office chair and you’re straddling his lap, grinding your hips on him and feeling his arousal grow. You’re burning up, panties damp and a familiar coil in your core. You don’t know what excites you the most: being responsible for the corruption of such pure soul, the forbidden aspect of fucking a Catholic priest, or the possibility of someone walking in on you. Your walls flutter when you imagine the scandal that this affair would create.

You pull him closer, tugging on his white collar, and he breaks the kiss. His eyes are black and glossed over, lips swollen, cheeks red, but there’s something like worry in eyes.

“Do you love me?” he asks quietly, in the soft voice you adore.

“Of course I do, you know that.”

You fall on your knees and fumble with the zipper of his black pants.

“Would you love me if I didn’t have this collar?” he stops your hands with his, “Would you still love me if I wasn’t this?”, he gestures to his sacred attire.

You pause your actions and search his eyes. Where is this coming from?

“Yes, I’d love you anyways, I’ll always love you.”

A small, shy smile breaks on his face. He lifts you up and makes you sit on his desk.

“I- I w-want to try something,” he begins with a stutter, “I remember hearing some kids back when I was in school talk about it.”

You cock your head to the side, observing carefully as he sits back down on the chair and parts your legs. He lowers his head and begins peppering the inner skin of your thighs with open mouthed kisses. Oh-.

“James, you don’t have to do this.” you try to tell him, but he’s already moving your panties to the side.

He stares entranced between your legs; he’s never been this bold, never watched you there. “You’re so pretty, I want to kiss you here.” 

You feel a finger tease your entrance and dip in. Every nerve ending in your body is on fire, and when he licks a strip of your dripping cunt, you feel like you could burst. He delves in your glistening folds, tongue swirling around as if he was kissing your mouth, and your hips jerk forward when he crooks a couple of fingers inside you, hitting that sweet spot that makes the coil in your belly grow tighter. 

You throw your head back and your eyes fall on the cross behind you. You are very much past forgiveness at this point, you muse, and that makes this all the more exciting.

You’re writhing under his touch, completely at his mercy. You grab the back of his neck and bring his face upward so that his mouth comes in contact with your clit.

“Suck there.” you demand in a raspy voice, rocking your hips and fucking yourself on his fingers. “Good boy.” you praise when he closes his mouth around your bud and begins sucking and lapping on it. “Yes, oh my God, fuck, faster.”

James obeys and jerks the fingers inside of you, the vibration and his tongue enough to make the knot in your core unravel and pleasure release in jolts, shooting from your center to the rest of your body; you slap a hand on your mouth to suppress wanton moans as your hips twitch involuntarily and your toes curl. He rides you though your orgasm until you’re too sensitive to handle his face on you.

When you look down, you find him, face wet in your arousal, eyes half lidded.

“Did I do well?” he asks full of hope, still clinging to your legs and nuzzling your thigh.

“You did amazing, sweet boy.”

-

“Bless me Father, for I have sinned.”

Hearing your sultry voice, he chokes on air behind the screen and clears his throat, trying to keep the same composure he always seems to loose when you’re around. 

“I got friendly with a man, you see, a man of church.” you begin in a teasing tone, “He kissed me, and I didn’t pull back. I let him roam his hands all over my body, Father, and then I corrupted him.”, You lick a couple of fingers and dip them in your mouth, then you release them with a popping sound and slowly slip them in your panties. You push a finger in your already wet core, smearing arousal around and teasing your clit, slow at first. “You should have seen how innocent he looked, Father. He said he’s never been touched like that. A virgin. I’ve never been with a virgin before.” you continue, almost moaning the last part as you slide three fingers in and out of you and tease your bud with your thumb, “He didn’t even know I could please him with my mouth, so I took him in and I sucked him off.” You’re panting, hand furiously circling your clit. You hear Bucky’s ragged breath behind the screen. “He moaned so loud, F-F-Father, he c-came so quick. And I swallowed it all, because you can’t let a single drop of seed g-go to w-waste, can you?” you whimper, feeling an orgasm build up.

You’re fueled by his suppressed grunts and the lewd sounds of him touching himself.

“I don’t come for absolution Father, because I’d do it all again.” you breathe at last, letting pleasure run through your every nerve, setting you ablaze. 

Behind the screen, Father James paints his hand and black shirt in white spurts, shame and pleasure fighting eachother in his mind.

-

You haven’t moved yet, legs parted, trying to catch your breath, and James is still clinging onto you.

You don’t know how it happened. 

It started with boredom, with a wish to fuck the pretty priest, but you’ve caught feelings now, and in three weeks you’ll have to get back to New York, where a job and a new apartment await you.

At least your aunt and your parents are happy about your redemption: you’ve been going to church everyday. They don’t need to know you’ve spent most time on your knees or on your back.  

But you don’t want to think about it now; you can’t let sadness take over and ruin these moments when James is only yours. Your love is on borrowed time, and you intend to make the most out of it.

“Do you want to fuck me, my love? You want me to come all over your pretty cock, yes? You want to fill me up with your cum?” you whisper in his ear, amused at the way he blushes.

“Please.” he whines, palming his cock through his briefs.

“Please what, sweet boy?”

“Please let me-” he interrupts himself.

“Let me what?”

He mumbles something incomprehensible.

“Can’t hear you.” you tease him, grabbing his chin and tilting his face up.

“Let me make love to you.”

You let out a chuckle and shake your head fondly. This man has had you bent over his desk, in the confessional, behind the altar, on the benches where the devoted Catholics of this town attend mass, and yet he can’t bring himself to talk crudely.

You pull on his hair so he stands, and you kiss him ravenously, letting your hands roam over his lean body, the taste of his lips permanently etched in the back of your mind. You don’t want to forget a thing, so you commit to mind each of his little noises, the way his tongue swirls around yours, the soft caresses of his hands.

Clothes discarded in a blur, the room is filled with your moan and his grunts. He pounds into you like a desperate man, clinging onto you with a bruising touch, holding you impossibly close as if you were about to slip through his fingers. And in a way, you are.

When James makes love to you the world disappears and there’s no judgement, no church. He’s not a priest, you’re not a sinner; he’s not pure, you’re not sick.

It’s just you and him, united in one body. Just a man and a woman being one in the flesh.

His thrusts become sloppier, his breathing labored. He brings a hand on your clit and presses on it. He comes inside of you, painting your walls, and the feeling of his swollen cock inside you and his cum filling you up are enough to trigger your release too, your walls clenching on him and milking every last drop.

You’re exhausted, panting in each other’s embrace. 

There’s no sin when you’re like this; you’re no longer the devil to his holy water. 

There’s only love.

-

James’ desk in his office is dark and wide, with mahogany panels on all three sides except the one he sits at. So when Ms. Lee, the adorable elderly lady that organizes the monthly fundraising events for charity, knocks on the door as you’re bouncing on James’ cock, all you have to do is crouch down and disappear under the table.

“Good evening, Father James.” She greets him cheerfully.

You hear the tapping of her heels until she plops down on the guests chair. 

“Good evening, Ms. Lee.” he responds in a strained voice, adjusting himself on the chair.

Ms. Lee speaks a lot. She’s talking James’ ear off, blabbering about the next charity event, and you think what better occasion than this one to be an indecent slut.

You slowly massage his thighs, bringing your hands from his knees to his groin, teasing him when you get close to his crotch and retracting. 

You watch as his cock swells in front of you, and you bite back a giggle. You hear him suck in a breath when you start pumping his length with both your hands.

“Are you alright, James? You’re looking a little worse for wear.” Ms. Lee asks him worriedly when she sees her priest red and sweaty.

James clears his throat and when he’s about to open his mouth, you lick a strip from base to his leaking tip, and the noise that escapes him is between a moan and a grunt.

“Y-yes, Ms. Lee, I’m fine. Just some food poisoning I think.” he manages to answer, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.  

“Poor thing.” she coos, and you take his cock in your mouth, swirling your tongue around, sucking on the frail skin of under the tip, “Anyways-” she begins again.

James tries to keep his composure, but you sense his distress, and you imagine it must be written all over his face. One hand massages his balls, the other aids your movements as you bob your head up and down, careful not to make a noise. His legs twitch under the table when you push his cock all the way down to your throat, and he makes a strangled noise.

“Sweetie, are you sure you’re fine? You really don’t look like it.” Ms. Lee interjects again, interrupting her story.

“I’m fine ma’am, don’t worry about me.”, he says through gritted teeth, jaw clenched shut so hard he might break his teeth.

You give it all you’ve got until your jaw is aching and your knees are killing you. Your effort pays off when, with one last motion on your hands, James grunts and cums in your throat, hips jerking forward and legs shaking.

He comes so hard that you choke on his release.

“Did you hear it too?” she asks in alert.

“He-hear wh-what?” he stutters, pretending to cough to hide your noises.

“A choking sound?”

“Oh, no, don’t worry about that, just my cough.” he answers, red faced and spent.

“I guess…” she doesn’t sound convinced but lets it go anyways. She could never imagine her sweet priest is getting blown by a city whore under his desk, “I’ll get going then, but please get some rest Father, your holy duties can wait.”

They can indeed, you think, as James yanks you from underneath the table and bends you over the desk, fucking you until you’re crying.

-

“What makes you do the things you do?” he’s playing with your hair as he asks the question that’s been plaguing him for months, since that first time in the confessional.

You’re in a motel somewhere, two hours away from your town, laying on a bed like two lovers. In this room, you’re not a dirty little secret.

What excited you before, suffocates you now.

You thought you may only like the forbidden, but you find yourself at peace in his arms, that peace you’ve yearned for for 22 years, that peace you could never find, because people like you are born sick, that’s what you’ve been told your whole life.

“If I tell you, will you absolve me?” you ask, basking in his affection. 

James is so sweet, so caring. You wish this moment could last forever.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, my love. I’ve sinned too much myself.”

“My bad.” you giggle.

Silence falls on you, and you hum in though, pondering your next words very carefully.

“I don’t do them for any reasons, other than they feel good. It feels good to drink, to smoke, to fuck you, to suck your cock.”, you say, and he blushes in embarrassment, “Or maybe I never got over my teenage phase and I just like doing all the things my parents always told me not to do, who knows. Trauma? Maybe. Spite? Quite possibly. I don’t even know at this point.”

He nods slowly. 

He wishes you could see yourself through his eyes, see how perfect you are. In his heart, there’s only love for you, in his mind, no more conflict.

“I do them for you.” he answers, and you smile at him, “And for myself, I guess. I thought I had found my way, but maybe I was wrong.”

You turn to look at him, and bop his nose.

“I’ll always love you, no matter what choice you make. I’ll wait for you if you ask me to.”

But his choice has been made already. 

He doesn’t deserve his collar, but hopefully he deserves you.

-

I’m curious to hear your thoughts. Please, reblog if you liked it and leave a comment. Feedback is always appreciated. 🤍

Priest bucky masterlist

#saiyanprincessswanie 500 followers challenge #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #james barnes x reader #james barnes x you #sebastian stan x reader #james barnes x y/n #priest!bucky

[bukojuiice]

rose-colored boy

ೃ pairing: (eren jaeger x fem! reader)

ೃ  tags: college/modern au, fluff, humor, love at first sight cliché, mikasa is your cute little sister, armin, sasha, jean, and connie are your besties, and eren is a himbo who works hard and has terrible friends.

ೃ warnings: strong language and mild suggestive content

ೃ part 1/??? of my (eren x reader) college au!

ೃ word count: 3000 words

ೃ  my nav  →  my mha writing masterlist 

ೃ This is my very first snk x reader fic! so i hope you bear with some errors! qwq 

i’ve been following the anime ever since it was released in 2013, and this is the first time i’m  going to be writing for it.  this month’s manga chapter really took me out so why not channel my sadness thru writing an fluff! eren fic? 🤧 i hope you enjoy either way!

ೃ  please do reblog if you enjoyed!! (feel free to add tags too because i love reading them and my heart swells with happiness when people love my work!)

ೃ  in which (Y/N) (L/N), 20, still in school, and regretfully-unregretfully-her little girl scout sister's assistant, meets eren jaeger in an embarrassing too innocent door-to-door cookie sale whilst a humiliating party was going on.

cookies, suspicious maybe-maybe-not pot brownies, meddling little sisters and friends, “oh my god they were roommates” vine on replay 24/7, homework, tears, and fairy lights bring them together.

“I’m going to enter now.”

“Ahhh yes, please!”

“Shut up, please.” Eren muttered to himself as he tossed and turned around in his bed, but still couldn’t get to sleep. “When will they ever stop doing this?” Why did Eren’s next-door roommate and his girlfriend have to do this five times a day? They had a lot of stamina for 21-year-olds who didn’t have anything better to do.

Eren’s thoughts eventually brought him to his parents.

His parents- did they even exist?

For pretty much 14 years of Eren’s life, they had been out of town or out of the country. His older brother, Zeke, blonde, bespectacled, tall, and sometimes too far up his own ass older brother who Eren is able to confide in from time to time, recently got a girlfriend whom he’s hopelessly in love with (they’re even thinking about getting married which isn’t really a problem since the girl is genuinely nice to his older brother so Eren is good with her.), so… things in the family had been a bit rough and busy to say the least.

Communication with his parents wasn’t always the best.

Eren would study late at night back when he was seven, because no one bothered to help him with homework. Along with the fact that he wasn’t the brightest kid in class, and he knew that very well, but he had ambition and he was determined to make it big in the world. He focused more on sports, particularly Soccer in middle school and high school, and tried to balance that with his studies.  After being granted a Sports Scholarship from Shigashina University, Eren decided to rent and share a flat, living with his batchmates who he met at a mixer party (before Uni started as this whole meet and get to know each other kind of thing) and whom he was so quick to call his ‘friends’, just so that he could get out of the hellhole that was his own house.

But things turned out much worse than expected.

Eren thought that the ‘College Life’ was to focus more on pursuing your future career and make a name for yourself but… it was the other way around.

He thought that after Freshmen year, everyone would take things seriously. Sure, have some drinks, get wasted after finals, or have house parties from time to time. But he was unfortunately, dragged into the wrong crowd. After attending around 5 parties in the first few months of being generalized as one of the infamous and pompous freshman archetypes present in every university, he called it a year and spent the rest of his nights doing homework, projects, playing video games, staying at the school soccer field until 10PM while his roommates were probably smoking crack and not caring about the number of units they needed to take for each of their goddamn subjects.

 He was ~living the life~ and now that he regrets most of the decisions he made in freshman year, the only option that he has left was to wait until his third year and move to a different apartment.  

 Now, here he was, Sophomore year, nearing the end of the semester, and very much eager to get the hell out of here and also study for his upcoming finals on Constitutional Law II, as his professor, Mr. Erwin Smith, was going to throw hands if one of his students score below average on the exam.

 “EREN MICK JAEGER! BROOOO!” Eren winces when he hears the shrieky and annoying voice of his flatmate Thomas Wagner, calling out to him. “Wanna go and party with us?” Eren smiles halfheartedly, shaking his head, “Ah, no thanks. I have a game tomorrow and finals coming up on Thursday.” Thomas smirked and wrapped his arm around Eren, “Oh fuck that, live the college life ya spoon.”

“No, really I have to study.”

Thomas frowned and groaned, “Oh god, you’re such a killjoy. Fine, if that’s what you want. Don’t blame us if we tell you to buy some beer down the block.”

Eren cracked an obviously fake laugh and pushed Thomas away from him, “You’re an ass. That only happened once and that was when we first met. Don’t you even dare try to ask me to buy you shit again.”

“Woah. Woah. Woaaaaaah. That was a joke Eren. Loosen up will you?” Thomas raises an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by the brunette’s sudden aggressiveness. He hums Moves like Jaeger by Maroon 5 as a way to spite Eren whilst passing by him down the staircase.

The brunette shook his head, tying his hair into a bun carelessly and sprinting into his room without uttering another word.

Eren just wanted to study. He really did.

Instead, his roommates, all of them, mind you, were all partying in the lounge and the music was too loud and Eren was too annoyed.

They did manage to bring him out and make him stay in the kitchen where he mindlessly glared at anyone who came in. He sighed and tapped his pen restlessly amongst the insane amount of books on the table.

There was a knock.

His roommate, Floch, came in the kitchen with his girlfriend who Eren couldn’t even name with all the women he has brought into the apartment. She was hanging onto his arm and giggling. Floch’s eyes were red and his speech very slow and lazy. "Eren!" he said with a sly grin.

Eren raised an eyebrow, shooting him an irritated look. "What now Floch? Are you here to tell me to take a shot again?" The ginger-haired’s girlfriend giggled once again and kissed Floch’s cheek. Floch laughed and swatted her away, though he missed by a long shot. "Someone's at the door," a thumb pointing to the den. "wouldchumind ge'in it?" another giggle. The girl nodded sloshily. "Yesss! Erenieee get 'em door, please. Be a dearrrrr."

Eren frowned and stared at them menacingly, earning no reaction from the two as they were mad drunk. "You were just in the den," Floch’s eyes widened. "My lovey wovey-we was in the den?" His girlfriend’s mouth went into an O. "Di'nt notice tha'!"

Eren sighed and stood up. He miraculously got through the throng of bodies and to the front door. "Yes?" he called out exasperated, not knowing who was outside.

"Do you want cookies?"

Eren turned and looked to see a little raven-haired girl, a girl scout no less, a blonde-haired boy pulling on a trolley who looked significantly shorter than him, wearing rimmed glasses, and an overall appearance whom his “friends” would immediately label as a nerd they had to be a few feet away from if they saw him and lastly, a girl who looked very tired and very done with life.

Beautiful (h/c)-colored hair, her eyes looked like the starry night sky, twinkling as he catches her gaze and a smile that looked forced, but warm all the same.  

A girl who was just absolutely fucking gorgeous.

Eren was captivated. His heart was beating like crazy and he could feel his ears turn red. He would make a fool of himself if he looked red as a tomato right now.

"Um," The girl peeked inside and grimaced, squeezing the hand that was her little sister's shoulder and catching Eren’s gaze. "Mikasa, I don't think these kinds of guys would want cookies."

“Unless they're pot cookies,” Eren almost said. Mikasa pouted and widened her eyes at Eren.

The older girl crouched down and frantically covered her little sister’s eyes. "Nopenopenope, Mi, don't pull that on him."

"But (Y/N)!"

(Y/N).

Her name was (Y/N).

Eren smiled sincerely (for the first time today) and leaned back inside to the drawer by the door to grab the extra cash he and his roommates put there for emergency pizza and stuff. "You know what? You're absolutely brilliant at selling cookies. I'll take one."

Mikasa smiled back at him cheekily and tugged her older sister’s hand. "See, (Y/N)?! He wants some! Go get 'em!”

The raven-haired girl then turned to the blonde teen, practically jumping up and down. “Armin look! We sold another one!"

“We did!” The boy who was apparently named Armin, clapped his hands together, then gave the little girl a high five. “You’re a natural at this Mikasa!”

(Y/N) looked at Eren, then Mikasa, and sighed. She grabbed a bag from the trolley Armin was dragging around and pulled out a box of cookies. Eren grabbed them slowly from her, their hands almost touching as he gave (Y/N) a small smile. The (h/c) girl blushed lightly, though not visible enough for the brunette to notice.

"Hope to see you again!" Eren called out when the siblings said their thank you's and bid farewell.

And, this time, even for the slightest moment, Eren’s serotonin levels were going straight through the roof. His heart was still beating loudly, almost in sync with the trash music his roommates were blaring on the speakers. and for a moment, even just for a moment. 

He felt genuine happiness that he hasn’t felt in a very long time.

 The three of you continue to walk animatedly, now that the coast was clear and the guy from earlier wasn’t within earshot, your blonde friend just had to break the silence.

 Armin smiles, pushing his glasses up to the crook of his nose. “(Y/N), you did see how he looked at you right?” The blonde chuckles softly, catching his best friend off guard.

 You blinked. “Him?” You try to stop yourself from smiling, blushing profusely. “Geez Armin, I don’t even know his name yet.”

 “I’ll bet you 100 bucks that he goes to our Uni.”

 “Even if he does, it’s not like we’ll talk to him or anything. Judging from the place he lives in and the people he was hanging out with, we’re in two completely different worlds.” You shook your head in denial, holding Mikasa’s hand, your interlocked arms swinging playfully. Armin gives you a knowing look in response.

 Mikasa continued to wave back at the boy whom they had just sold cookies too. (Y/N) looked over her shoulder and smiled. “Wasn’t he nice (Y/N)?” Mikasa asks her older sister. (Y/N) returned her sister a small smile, “He was.”

 "I hope we see him again!"

"I'm sure we will."

 The day of Eren’s dreaded finals finally arrive.

He has prepared tirelessly for this. Hours upon hours of hard work. But, before he finally gets his well-deserved sleep, he has a few more hours to cram and absorb more knowledge for his exams.

So, what better way to do so than head straight to the library as soon as it opens at 6 AM?

This time, no one was going to bother him. No annoying roommates and no distractions.

Eren heads over to a table near the coffee and snack machines. He puts down his bag on a seat next to him, and begins to study once again. Looking through the course materials and the lessons that he still didn’t quite understand. Eren was so absorbed with studying and relying on his gut feeling that no other student in this university would think of going to the library at 6 AM on the day of finals… then he’s wrong. Very wrong. 

 “Sasha, should you even be eating mashed potato this early in the morning?” Armin asks the brunette worriedly, a huge tone of concern in his voice.

“Armin! Don’t chu worry! I ate heavy breakfast! Bacon, Eggs, and Toast! Did you not see me in the kitchen!?” She reassures her blonde friend, continuing to scoop up the mashed potato on a reusable cup.

“Liar.” Connie hissed, narrowing his eyes. “I was awake since 4 AM. Not once did I see you sneak into the kitchen until (Y/N) woke you up.”

“Atatata. Can we… stop with the negative vibes for a second?” Jean tries to become the mediator by holding his hands up against his two friends who were about to start an argument. “It’s finals week. We have to keep a clear mind, body and soul-“

“Jean, you know that’s BS.” You yawn widely, still practically half-asleep.

“Oh, come on! Can’t you just let me be positive just this once!? If we fail this exam I’m going to blame you!“

The five of you continue to talk mindlessly on the way to the library. Connie pushes the glass door open, very much excited to have this huge library all to yourselves.

Until…

There was someone already there.

Your eyes immediately come into contact with Eren’s. His radiant jade eyes staring into yours, mouth practically agape, his hands holding on to wooden chopsticks as the hot air of instant ramen breezes through his face.

“Oh?” Connie blinks. “Guess we aren’t the first ones here then.” He whistles.

“(Y/N)!” Armin nudges you in the arm in an attempt to tease you. “Guess your wish came true huh? We did see him again! By himself too!”

“W-what am I supposed to do exactly?” You turn to Armin, speaking in a hushed whisper.  

“Say thank you to him! Offer him to go on a boba date or something!”

“You got the Sasha seal of approval (Y/N)! He’s hot!” Sasha motions you a thumbs up and you can’t help but feel yourself already wanting to die of embarrassment.

The four of them slightly push you towards his table. With your friends cornering you like this, there was no way of escaping this.

All you had to do was talk to him and properly thank him for buying cookies from your little sister.

That was it.

No need for any extra ad-libs or poor and bad attempts of flirtation.

Just thank him (Y/N).

You can do this.

You breathe a hefty sigh then approach his table with confidence. The brunette continues to look up at you whilst turning the page of his reviewer that he wasn’t even looking at.

“Hi again! I just wanted to thank you properly for helping my sister and I, out the other day. Mikasa really appreciated the gesture you did for her, and she couldn’t stop talking about you to our parents since we saw you. You see, none of the other girl scouts want to be paired up with my sister because they think she’s an emotionless and monotonous freak. They’re really mean to her but she really wants to continue being a girl scout so my friend and I accompany her whenever she has to sell cookies!”

“It’s N-no problem!” Eren quickly replies, running a hand through his hair. “Why would they say such horrible things to your sister like that? Judging from the way she acted in front of me, she was quite the opposite. In a positive way of course! Those kids are just assholes who are intimidated because another girl their age is seemingly better than them.”

You giggle in response. “Thank you. I’ll tell Mikasa that you said that!” 

There was short silence for a few seconds until you realized that you forgot to say something. 

“Ah! I’m (Y/N) (L/N) by the way!”

“Eren.” He smiles, reaching his hand out to you for you to shake. You grip his strong and calloused hand firmly, and Eren could feel his ears turning red again while you were about to blush as red as a tomato.

You hear your friends snickering in the background and you took this as a sign to go back to your table. “I guess, I’ll see you around campus?” You ask, tilting your head. For, you actually really wanted to see him again after this.

“Yea! I’ll be seeing you!” He grins widely, watching you leave where he was seated. His smile then envelops into a frown as soon as you went away then he goes back to studying.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” Connie whispers loudly, calling you over by waving his hand. Why was this dunce being so painfully obvious? “Ask him if he’s looking for an apartment or if he wants to live with us!”

“Already!?” You ask in disbelief, a bit shocked by what Connie had just said. He scoots to the left, as you take a seat between him and Sasha. “Guys, you’ve known him for like… 3 minutes. Only Armin and I actually interacted with him before this.”

“He has to pass the vibe check first.” Jean shrugs, sipping on an iced expresso. “But, yeah, he does seem alright from a few feet away.”

“Come on (Y/N)! Ask him!” Sasha nods approvingly. “It’s weird that he’s studying alone like this while we’re in another table trying to remain unaware that he looks lonely as hell.”

“UMmMM… maybe he wants to study alone because that’s the only way he can focus? That’s a thing that normal people do, Sasha.” You remark sarcastically, trying to think up of more reasons to not approach him again.

Armin clears his throat, “Look, (Y/N), it won’t hurt to try right? Besides, don’t you feel a tiny bit sorry for him? He does seem lonely and you do have a crush on him so… more ways to interact with him right?”

Your shoulders slump and you breathe a defeated sigh. “Okay okay fine.” You make your way to Eren’s table again but before you do, you turn to your friends. “By the way, I don’t really have a crush on him just yet. I just find him cute okay?”

“Yeah yeah.” They say in unison as you continue to walk back to the brunette’s table.

“Hi again Eren!” You wave and try your best not to fumble or look painfully obvious that you were infatuated by him. He looks up and you try your best not to smile like a weirdo.

“Hm?” He hums.

“Would you like to come over to our table and study with us?”

To be continued.

#shingeki no kyojin x reader #snk x reader #eren x reader #attack on titan x reader #eren jaeger x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #eren jaeger x you #eren jaeger x y/n #eren x you #snk #aot

[wlntrsldler]

okay hear me out the cardigan, betty, august love triagle to reader x fred x angelina i've been thinking about it since folklore came

PROMPT: based on cardigan, betty, and august by taylor swift (an installment of my taylor swift x harry potter series. to read more about it, click here) Y/N and Fred see each other after 7 years and she finally lets him know that she knew that he cheated on her with Angelina all those years ago. (fred lives au lol)

also my submission for @wand3ringr0s3‘s 1.9k follower writing challenge! 

“i knew it was too good to be true.” 

“was in love with you. was.”

WC: 1.5K+

WARNINGS: infidelity, angst

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST

-

cardigan x betty x august (f.w one shot)

“Why did you leave?” 

You froze in your spot when you heard those words come out of Fred’s lips. The party behind the two of you was still in full swing— a party where his sister and her groom were celebrating their undying love for one another; Unbeknownst to them, just a few feet away, was the dying breath of another love. 

You turned to face the man you’d fallen in love with all those years ago. You thought about the years you’ve wasted pining after Fred Weasley, dreaming of him like he was the one who put the stars in the sky. He was your safety blanket, one to cover you with a sense of comfort and belonging in a way that nobody was ever able to. He clouded your judgement until you didn’t know right from wrong anymore, and yet, not once did he take advantage of his hold on you— because he’s a good man. 

And you hated it. 

You hated how even though he was the same man who made you doubt in the power of love; even though he was the man who haunted you in your darkest hours; even though he was the man who laid beside a woman who wasn’t you, tangled in the white sheets while he was supposed to be devoted to you; you still knew he was a good man. 

“You don’t get to ask me questions,” you breathed out, shutting your eyes tightly. You couldn’t look him in the eye, not while his eyes are flaming with anger and suffering. 

“The hell I don’t!” he exclaimed, stomping over to you. His tone was harsh, but even that couldn’t mask the quivering of his words. “Why did you leave me?” 

You finally opened your eyes, after feeling his breath tickling your skin, “You left me first, Fred.” 

His eyebrows furrowed, genuine confusion evident in his features. Fred gulped, blinking a few times, not expecting that answer, “What are you on about?” 

“Angelina Johnson.” 

And just like that, Fred felt his knees grow weak. 

His face paled, all color draining from his once red cheeks. He knows exactly what you were talking about. But he wished he didn’t. 

“Y/N,” he began, his voice turning into a broken whisper, “I-I can explain.” 

“No need,” you dismissed, staring at your feet. You kicked around the grass, sending small pebbles to ripple across the garden. “It’s been years, Fred. It doesn’t matter anymore.” 

“Obviously, it does,” he insisted, stepping closer to you. He couldn’t help but shed a tear when you took a step back. 

You shyly looked at your fingers, unable to look at him in the eyes once more. It has been seven years since you found him sleeping soundly beside Angelina Johnson, right before the war. You confessed your feelings for him a few hours before that night, even going so far as kissing him under the moonlight before you went off to fight in the battle of Hogwarts the next day. You didn’t speak to him the entire time and you left without another word once the war was over. 

“Can we talk about this?” 

“No, Fred,” you hissed, not even bothering to wipe the tears that were falling from your eyes, “Do you know how many times I’ve cried while we were still at Hogwarts because people would whisper about how bloody pathetic I am for being madly in love with you? You daft git! I would’ve done anything for you, Fred. Everyone but you could see that.” 

You grimaced as you continued, “Do you know how it feels to confess your love for someone and then finding them in bed with another woman not even a day later? Do you know how it feels to lose your best friend and the one you love all in a blink of an eye?” 

“Y/N, listen-”

“No, you listen,” you exhaled. In that small moment of silence, you faintly heard the crowd chanting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” and you felt so guilty having this conversation during two of your closest friends’ magical night. You looked at Fred, “I was so happy that night, you know? We’ve been best friends for ages before that and you always told me that I was deserving of love. I never believed you until that night because Merlin, if I’m deserving of Fred Weasley then maybe I am deserving of love.” 

“You are,” he squeaked, trembling like your words were daggers stabbing him. 

You ignored him, “I felt so stupid after seeing you with Angelina because then I knew it was too good to be true. I couldn’t even bring myself to confront you about it.” 

“I-” you chuckled humorlessly, throat beginning to close up, “I wanted you, Fred. A-and obviously, you belonged to someone else and I just… I couldn’t be there anymore. I couldn’t be here anymore! How I managed to still be friends with Ginny or visit Charlie in Romania when I was there for work— knowing full well that I saw you every time I looked at them— without bursting into tears, I don’t know! But I left for me, Fred. I needed to put myself back together again.” 

“Y/N, if I had known you’re in love with me-”

“Was in love with you,” you corrected, although you didn’t know if what you were saying was the truth, “Was.” 

He flinched but continued, “-was in love with me, then I wouldn’t hav-”

“Wouldn’t have fucked her?” 

Fred faltered, your words twisting the knife that was already buried in his chest. He nodded sadly, “Yeah.” 

“Fred, you would’ve done it anyway.” 

“No, I wouldn’t!” he pleaded, rushing over to you. “I wouldn’t because I was in love with you! I’m still in love with you! Had I known you weren’t just saying that because we were going into war, I swear Y/N things would’ve been so different.” 

“Please save it,” you placed a hand on his chest, keeping him at arms distance. 

He grabbed your hand, bringing it to his lips as he peppered kisses to your knuckles. His tears touched your skin, the warmth of it making you shudder. You pulled your hand that he held closer to you, wanting to feel him near you, even just for a moment. You watched in despair as he murmured apologies into your skin. 

His eyes were closed, eyelashes touching the scar on the crease of your index finger. Fred looked at you through blurred vision, eyes red from crying and pleading. You couldn’t hear anything else but his sobs, the sounds from the wedding long forgotten. Fred whispered, not knowing if you were even listening to him anymore.

Please. Please. Please.

You stared at the boy in front of you in all his glory, vulnerable for you. Subconsciously you stroked his cheekbone with the pad of your thumb, humming as he nudged his face into your touch. Fred’s bottom lip quivered, twisting his head to kiss your palm. He whispered again.

Please. Please. Please.

“Freddie,” you finally spoke. You felt his lips twitch to a smile at the way his nickname still sounded so smooth rolling off your tongue, so sweet like honey. 

“Hm?” 

“I want to forgive you.”

“So please forgive me,” he said so softly you almost didn’t catch it.

You pulled your hand away, holding it close to your chest. You stared at each other, taking in each other’s presence for the first time in seven years. He looked more mature. The years you’ve spent apart were kind to him. He looked more handsome than ever. 

You stared at the scar on his eyebrow— the one that he got when he tried to teach you how to fly in your third year. You stared at his eyes— the same ones you used to dream about waking up next to in the morning. You stared at his lips— the ones that you had the pleasure to feel on yours on that forsaken night. 

“I want to forgive you,” you echoed, allowing yourself to bask in his presence one last time, “But I can’t, Fred.” 

Silence. 

“You-” you paused, collecting yourself before continuing. You looked up at the sky briefly, letting out a shaky breath, “You broke me. I have spent years trying to fix myself. All those years apart, all I’ve done is try to forget you but you’re everywhere, Fred. You’re the person in my dreams and in my nightmares all together. Everything reminds me of you.” 

“And I’d be lying to myself if I said I don’t love you because I do,” you confessed, now looking at him intently, “I fear that I’ll always love you. I fear that I’ll always be tied to you. I fear that you’re probably the love of my life and I hate the part of me that still hopes that you are.” 

“Because if love is supposed to feel like this— if love is supposed to hurt like this— then I’d rather not love anyone for the rest of my life,” you began to quiet down, wiping the tears on your cheeks. You started to walk back to the party, deciding that you’ve missed too much of the night already, “It was good to see you, Freddie.”

Fred watched as you retreated back to the party, a fake smile plastered on your face. He stood there in the dark, crying silently and blaming himself for the mistake he made seven years ago, as he watched the love of his life give up on him.

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tags: @rexorangecouny

#wand3ring1.9kchallenge #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #frances x taylor swift x harry potter #fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x yn #fred weasley fanfic #frances writes #frances song fics

[staticscreenwriting]

LOVE LIKE THE MOVIES // BUCKY BARNES // 7

SEVEN - SERENDIPITY

Trigger warning: Alcohol, food

Masterlist

Summary: This is a story of boy meets girl. The boy, Bucky Barnes, finds himself thrown into a world that seems so different from everything he’s ever known. The girl, (Y/N) knows entirely too much about rom-coms and is quite particular about the way she eats her popcorn. Bucky meets (Y/N) a few months after returning to NYC. He knows almost immediately that becoming her friend is inevitable. This is a story of boy meets girl. This is a story about love. (Bucky Barnes x female!Reader // a few spoilers for TFATWS)

“Okay, that’s ridiculous!” Bucky mumbles around a spoonful of fruit loops.

“What is?”

“This,” he responds and points his now empty spoon accusingly at John Cusack. “This whole fate thing. The book, sure, might happen. But the dollar bill? Never!”

(Y/N) puts her empty bowl on the couch table, turning her body towards Bucky and sitting in a criss-cross style. “You telling me you don’t believe in fate and soulmates and that some people are destined to be together.”

“No,” Bucky retorts in a tone that implies it was a silly question to even ask him. “I am 106 years old. If those things were true you'd think I would've found my destined partner by now."

"Maybe you have" (Y/N) shrugs. "Maybe it's Leah. Have you called her anyway?"

Bucky looks down sheepishly into the colorful milk swirling through his bowl. "No."

“ What? Why not? “

“Because it hasn’t — oh I don't know. It just hasn’t felt right.”

He’d been debating on giving her a call many times, never actually going through with it. At first, it was for a fear of failure, rejection. Now though, Leah doesn’t cross his mind as much as before. His thoughts, he noticed recently, are occupied by another person. And it wouldn't be fair to Leah or himself to try and build something on shaky ground at best.

“ Dude, I’m educating you on romance and you are too afraid to call this girl? “

“ Educating me? You are forcing me to watch rom coms. “

“ Forcing you? “ (Y/N) gasps and dramatically slaps her hand to her chest right above where her heart is. “ Are you saying you’re not having fun? “

There’s a smirk on her face, tiny and barely there but he notices it anyway. He’s started noticing the small things. Like how her nose scrunches up when she smiles and how she twiddles with her fingers when she’s nervous.

“ If I didn’t have fun I wouldn’t be here. “ Bucky replies and bumps his leg against her knee. Truth be told, he’d be here anyway. Even if she’d make him watch the most boring movie in the entire world he’d stay right there with her. Sometimes the world doesn't seem so rough and ruthless when she’s there beside him. Sometimes he feels like he could genuinely be happy.

“ Good, “ (Y/N) responds and places a quick kiss on his cheek that very nearly gives him a heart attack. Soft touches are something she grants him every so often and while he is getting used to it, it’s still foreign. It’s something he enjoys quite a lot though.

“Anyway, soulmates finding their way back to each other despite all odds is such a rom-com stable. Like the kiss in the rain or the airport chase or the top-of-the-stairs-moment.”

“ The what ? “

(Y/N) scoffs at him as if she’s never been asked a more ridiculous question in her life.

“ The moment when the girl gets a makeover or she dresses up in some ballgown and her love interest waits at the bottom of the stairs for her and when he sees her he’s so enamored and enchanted by her and ideally there’s some cheesy 90s love song playing in the background. And she meets him at the bottom, walking in slow motion obviously, and they don’t kiss or anything but the looks they share are enough to let the audience know what they feel for one another.”

Her words are heavy with passion and longing and magic and for a second Bucky wishes, he could be the one to give her that moment.

“ But okay, grumpy. You go on not believing in soulmates. I’ll change your mind one day, trust me.”

He doesn’t doubt it for a second.

They sink back into their blissful calm as John Cusak and Kate Beckinsale reconnect on the ice rink in front of Rockefeller Center as an ocean of Christmas lights twinkles in the background.

“ I’ve never been ice skating there. Been living here for so many years now and that’s still something I’ve never done. “ (Y/N) pipes up, a longing swinging alone with her words. “ Have you? “

“ Mmmh. Used to take a lot of girls on dates there. “

“ Oh sorry, I forgot you were a big charmer back in the day. “

“ Saw the first-ever Christmas tree getting set up in 1933. '' he continues to say. Sometimes talking about the past makes him sad. It’s a time he will never be able to go back to. A man he will never be again.

But sometimes, like today, he’s able to recall little snippets of memories and remember how he felt in that exact moment. And those are worth all the pain that thinking about the future might bring.

“ That — is weird flex but actually really cool. “

Bucky doesn’t think of himself as cool. He’s a grumpy 106-year-old who is completely disillusioned with the world around him. If (Y/N) thinks so though, he’s not gonna try to change her mind.

She snuggles back into him, body leaning against the smooth vibranium arm. A part of him he never felt really belonged to himself. Something he had been given to kill, to defend, to fight. If something so dangerous can be a place of comfort to her, Maybe, he thinks, it’s not so bad after all. Maybe sometimes you just have to let go of the part and change your perspective of things.

For a while, they get lost in the movie, in the fictional love of two strangers. He remembers the romance novels his mothers used to read. The way she would get lost in them. Maybe to escape her own life for just a second and follow along with the stories and the people that seemed so much grander than her own existence as a housewife stuck in a life that seems too small to contain her in all her wonderful glory. His mother, Bucky always knew even at a young age, deserved more than she had been given. She was smart and funny and she loved her kids as much as a heart could love another. But her days were dull and her marriage was one of convenience more than anything. She had ideas, beautiful stories swirled around her head, and she’d tell them to him and his sister before she’d tuck them into bed. And yet that is where they stayed, in her mind and in her children's memories. She was never resentful though. She took things as they came and she made them beautiful.

He wonders sometimes, what would’ve come from her ideas if she had been given the chance to tell them to a bigger audience. She could’ve put those rom-coms to shame.

A knock on the front door startles (Y/N), making her get up from the couch and follow LAdy towards the entrance. There’s a definite lack of warmth where she used to be and Bucky feels himself missing her already.

“ It’s probably Robin, she left her favorite jacket here the other — mom? “

The air fills with a chaotic mix of several voices one speaking over the other while the charm on Lady’s collar underlines it all with a jingling sound like that of a small bell.

Before he can even think about how to react, (Y/N) steps back into the living room followed by two more people. A woman who looks like an older version of her and a man. They seem lost in conversation still, talking about their travel to NYC and the fact that the man, who Bucky assumes is (Y/N)’s father, refused to ask for directions.

That’s until their eyes fall on Bucky. The woman regards him with a gentle smile on her face, polite and warm as mothers usually are. The man though. There’s something in his eyes, in his demeanor, that changed once he set sight on Bucky and it doesn’t feel good. Bucky knows what it’s like to be recognized. People see him and then they see all the bodies left in his wake, all the blood on his hands, all the pain and the suffering and the —

“ Sergeant Barnes. “

They used to call him that in Wakanda, as a sign of respect, he believes. To make him realize that they do not see him as the thread he used to be but the man he once was. Other than that it’s been a long time since people referred to him as Sergeant Barnes. It’s a title he takes pride in, something he worked hard for. It also belongs to a man he isn’t anymore. Bucky isn’t sure he still earns it. Still owns it.

“ Uh — hello. “

“Dad, “ (Y/N) says and pushes past her parents to stand next to Bucky. Her hand rests on his arm as a sign of comfort and reassurance. He appreciates it very much. “ Mom. This is Bucky. “

“ I can’t believe it. “ her father exclaims, still not taking his eyes off of Bucky.

“ Dad. “

“ I can not believe it. I can’t believe you! “

There it is. Although Bucky has always been very aware that he wasn’t nearly worth (Y/N)’s time, having it thrown in his face hurts more than he likes to admit.

“ Dad … “

“ You know James Barnes, and you tell me nothing about it? (Y/N) I’ve — I’ve spent so much time researching this man revising all the information people before me have gathered and making sure his legacy and his place in Steve Rogers' life get acknowledged and now I’d have the chance to ask him personally and you — you keep it a secret from me? “

Wait … what ?

“ Bucky, “ (Y/N) says and looks up at him with her gorgeous eyes that never seem to fail at calming him down. “These are my parents and as you can tell, my dad’s a big fan of yours. “

The next few minutes are a chaos of handshakes and nice-to-meet-yous and hugs. Her mother hugs Bucky real tightly, the way mothers do when they know someone needs a hug. And she doesn’t flinch when she feels the metal arm. She just hugs him a little tighter.

“ Why are you guys here? “ (Y/N) asks as her father throws an arm around her shoulder

“ Well, you asked us to look after Lady while you’re gone. “ her mother replies as if it’s the obvious answer.

“ Yeah, but we don’t leave until Friday afternoon. It’s Thursday. “

“ That is truuuue. But dad and I thought we’d surprise you and take you out for a nice dinner since we won’t be spending Christmas together, we thought we could at least try to make up for it. “

(Y/N) shakes her head at her mother’s words. “ I told you guys, it’s not a big deal. You go enjoy your cruise. “

“ And we will but you’re our girl and we want to take you out for dinner. Give your old parents that much, will you” her father jokes and ruffles her hair as if she was just a little girl and maybe she is in that moment, wrapped in his arms.

“ I uh — Bucky and I had plans. “

“ What plans? “ her mother asks, eyebrows raised.

“ Watching movies. “

“ Oh, those aren’t plans. Go get dressed! “

“ And James will obviously come with us, “ her dad adds “ I am not done asking him questions. “

It’s not December yet but the restaurant is already decked out in Christmas lights and tastefully placed sparkly ornaments. The soft lull of Christmas carols being played on a piano flows through the room and Bucky is thankful to discover that while so much has changed, many of those songs have stayed the same. Maybe things aren’t all different right now. Maybe the fundamental things have stayed the same. Like the feeling of being with your family sitting by the tree, singing songs that have been passed down from your parents to you.

(Y/N) sits next to him, lips painted the exact same shade of red as her slouchy knit sweater. She looks so cozy and comfortable and soft and if he’s being really honest with himself, all he wants to do is hold her tight and get lost in her warmth. But this is good, as good as it can ever get, really. Sitting next to her, across from her parents who have been nothing but kind to him. They’re eating good food, drinking delicious drinks and her parents are sharing funny and slightly embarrassing stories about (Y/N). This is the first time he’s meeting anyone’s parents as the man he is now. And even back in the 40s things weren’t this calm and easy. If you went to meet a woman’s parents you better came prepared. This feels nice. Like he gets to be part of a family for just a teeny tiny moment.

“ So, how long have you guys been together? “ her mother asks around a fork of tiramisu. While Bucky only looks at her with wide eyes, (Y/N) almost chokes on her wine.

“ Mom, we’re — not. We’re friends. “

“ Oh,” her mother replies, looking unconvinced as her eyes move back and forth between (Y/N) and Bucky “ I guess I must’ve read that wrong. Shame, you would make adorable babies. “

“ Mom!”

Bucky’s sure his cheeks are the same color as her sweater and her lips and her fingernails. A beautiful bright red. Like a Santa’s hat.

“ I know, babe. You’re an independent woman who makes her own decisions and if you decide not to have babies that’s alright with us. As long as you are happy, so are we. Lady makes for a wonderful substitute grandchild. Just sayin’ if you were to have babies with Bucky they would turn out really cute. “

“ Okay, how about we stop talking about my imaginary potential future children, huh? You go tell me more about work, dad. How about that? “

As her dad starts talking about some history classes he teaches and the students, Bucky notices the change in (Y/N)’s demeanor. Her laid-back ease is gone. She keeps fidgeting with her hair and the rings on her hand. Without really thinking about it, like his body is working on autopilot, Bucky reaches out and grabs her hand under the table. It’s still weird, touching soft skin with his metal hand without the intention of inflicting pain. It’s nice though. It’s wonderful.

She doesn’t let go for a long time.

Restrooms in restaurants are places where time is slightly altered. You’re sheltered from the noises of the main room but they’re still faintly audible through the door. The clinking of glasses and cutlery, the laughter, and the voices as they flow together like waves in an ocean.

It feels like you get a break from the real world for just a moment. To catch yourself. To take a breath. To look at yourself in the mirror and decide your next steps as the music sounds from the overhead speakers in a duller version as if someone wrapped the lyrics in thick cotton padding.

(Y/N) washes her hands while looking at her reflection. Today’s a good day. It’s not going the way she has expected it but it’s a good day nonetheless. Bucky and her parents get along like a house on fire. It’s a nice feeling but it also makes her so acutely aware of all the what-ifs floating around her head and her heart. Would it feel like this if she and Bucky were more than friends? Would it feel this — right?

Before her mind can come up with an answer to her own question, the door to the restrooms swings open letting in a sliver of the noise outside. Her mother steps in and looks at her with that signature mom smile. Like she knows you better than you know yourself. And maybe that isn’t entirely wrong.

“ Your dad and I are going to take a cab to the hotel. We’ll come over to yours tomorrow before you leave. Is that okay? Bucky said he’d walk you home.”

Of course, he’d say that. He’s a gentleman. He’s Bucky.

“ Sure that’s fine. I’m glad you guys came a day early. I missed you. “

“ We missed you too, baby,” she responds and pulls (Y/N) into a hug.

“ Now tell me something,” she says and takes (Y/N)’s face in between her hands. “ You and Bucky. There’s something there. “

(Y/N) shakes free from her mother's touch and faces the mirror, leaning both hands against the marble sink. “ Mom, can you leave it. “

“ I see the way you guys look at each other. I — you haven’t been this happy in so long. He makes you happy. “

As she lifts her head and looks into her own eyes in the mirror, (Y/N) feels a flood of emotions wash over her. Emotions she’s tried so hard to suppress and others she wasn’t even aware were there in the first place. And it’s all comes crashing down pulling her under and spitting her back out.

“ So what if he makes me happy. We’re not gonna happen. I can not lose a friend and he can’t either. It would kill us both. “

“ Oh honey, “ she goes to pull (Y/N) into another hug but she just shakes her head in response.

“ No. No, mom. It’s okay. I’m okay with it being the way it is. “

“ Are you sure? “

Is she? (Y/N) looks back at herself. You think you know yourself and what you want and how you feel and then someone asks you, truthfully asks you if you’re sure. And you can only stare and wonder. Well, are you?

And sometimes it’s way easier to lie, to both the other person and yourself, than to really face your fears and your feelings and everything you do or don’t understand about yourself.

“ Yeah. I am sure. “

It’s true. New York City never seems to fully go to sleep. There’s always a light on somewhere, guiding you through the dark, guiding you home.

It doesn’t fully go to sleep but it slows down. The air gets heavier, the noise gets quieter.

(Y/N) and Bucky slowly make their way through the familiar streets of their neighborhood as the city lights and the stars fight over who gets to shine more brightly upon them.

It’s a chilly evening, winter is truly just around the corner, and the air feels pregnant with the promise of snow and yet (Y/N) feels a warmth course through her that is unlike any other. A warmth that can only be brought on by being with your loved ones.

“ It’s a lovely night,” she says as her heels create a clip-clap sound against the pavement.

Bucky has his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his jacket and his ever-present scowl decorates his face and yet, even Bucky can’t deny that it is a lovely night. One with so much potential. For — for lovers.

“ It really is.”

“ If life was a movie, “ (Y/N) says “ this would be when we realized that we're in love"

Bucky only raises his eyebrow at her, pushing her to elaborate. And maybe it’s a bit selfish. Maybe he just wants to hear her entertain the thought of them two as something more for just a little bit longer. Even if it’s just pretend.

“ We’d get a montage of some quirky dates that we didn’t realize were dates. Then the camera would pan down on us tonight, walking underneath the stars, the city lights glowing around us. There’d be some piano music in the background to set the mood. We’d have a deep talk about our fears or messed up childhoods or the meaning of life. And then you’d make me laugh and I’d accidentally hold your hand. You’d drop me off at my door, think about kissing my lips but then end up kissing my forehead. Once you leave I’d lean against my door, sink down to my floor, and grin like a fool because that’s the moment I realize I am in love with you and the audience would sigh in relief because they knew all along. “

“ That sounds nice,” Bucky replies, eyes staring into the distance as he tries to picture it all, safe it as a mental snapshot to go back to in quiet moments.

“ Yeah, well what a shame life is not a movie and we’re not in love. What a waste of a lovely night. “

“ Guess it’s perfect for a couple, huh? “ Bucky has to agree with her.

“ Mmmh. Or at least someone not in heels, “ (Y/N) jokes looking down at her shoes.

“ You want me to find a couple? Gift our night to them ? “ Bucky asks as they continue their journey down the Brooklyn streets.

“ Absolutely not, sir! “ (Y/N) responds and links her arm with his as she pulls him along. “ I like our night. I want to keep it for ourselves. “

And so they continue their walk home. Words that want to be said, that need to be said, hang heavy in the air, and yet they both decide to stay quiet and just enjoy the silence and comfort of their lovely little night.

The door feels like mocking her as it comes into view, cutting their moment short, putting an end to this blissful night.

She doesn’t want it to end. Doesn’t want to go inside and quite literally close the door to all the possibilities this night seems to hold out to her. If she was just brave enough to reach out and grab them.

(Y/N) unlock the door and turns back around to face Bucky. Something seems to hang in the air right between them and that feeling only gets stronger as their eyes lock. For a moment all there is, is silence and an abundance of unspoken words. And a fear that comes with speaking them. Of messing something up. Of being vulnerable.

Bucky smiles at her then. She loves his smile. It’s so rare but it’s so beautiful to look at. It gives you the feeling of having done something right.

“ Thanks for today, “ he says as if there’s anything to thank her for.

“ For what? “

“ Letting me be a part of your family. Thought maybe you didn’t want your parents to know about me. Thanks for — not being ashamed of me or anything. “

“ Oh Bucky, “ she says and grabs his hand, “ You are my friend and I love you. I’d never be ashamed of you. If anything I’m a little embarrassed by the way my dad kept pestering you with questions. Uh — why are you looking at me like that. “

“ You love me? “ his voice comes out but a mere whisper and his eyes are wide in shock.

“ Yes. You’re my friend, I love you. Bucky when — when was the last time someone told you they love you? “ (Y/N) asks as her hand softly strokes the side of his face.

“ 1942 “

“ Well, guess I’ll have to keep reminding you then, make up for lost time. I love you, Bucky Barnes. “

She can’t even blink before she’s wrapped up in his arms. Despite what one would think, Bucky is always warm. Even the vibranium arm. Everything radiates warmth and comfort. She could stay here forever.

Slowly he pulls away, looks deep into her eyes, lowers his head, and places his lips against her forehead. “ I love you too. “

He smiles at her once more then leaves. And while she won't admit it to anyone, ever, (Y/N) goes inside, leans against her door, sinks to the floor, and doesn't even try to suppress the foolish smile spreading on her lips.

Robin’s laughter fills the halls of the beautiful Inn where just tomorrow she’ll say I do.

“ This was your doing! You scheming little shit.” (Y/N) grumbles from the corner of her mouth as she slides up to Robin.

“ It wasn’t, “ the red-haired girl laughs “ but I wish it was. It’s hilarious.“

Redstone Lodge is a beautiful Inn located in upstate New York. It looks out onto a lake and is surrounded by lots and lots of Christmas trees all year round. It’s made of bricks and big wooden panels. Very rustic and yet cozy and elegant. In the yard, there’s a huge tent with a wooden floor and a see-through roof. That’s where the reception will be held tomorrow.

Redstone Lodge has 35 rooms all of which have been distributed to the various guests. They’re beautiful rooms with nice decor and comfortable beds. Well — a bed. One. Singular.

“ This is like some fanfiction trope, Robin. There is only one bed? “

“ Look," Robin says and pulls (Y/N) closer “ if you want to switch, find someone to switch with. I’m sure someone is willing to. But I’m just saying that if you two are friends, shouldn’t you be able to sleep in a bed together and not make it weird? “

She has a point and she knows it and she also knows that (Y/N) knows it.

Huffing a breath of annoyance (Y/N) grumbles an “okay fine” before letting Robin be taken hostage by yet another overly excited aunt and returns to Bucky’s side as he stands on the front steps looking out into the vast area. It really is a beautiful place to get married.

“ Hey so uh — bad news is that this is the only room they have so we’ll have to share a bed. Good news is they got some movies to take up to the room and I found some really dope rom-coms. “

“It's okay, don't worry. I promise I won't hog the blanket,” Bucky says and nods his head into the direction of the lake “ wanna take a walk? “

“ Sure. Yeah, why not. “

In all honesty (Y/N) isn’t the biggest fan of walking around the woods with no particular destination in mind and yet she can’t help but feel a sense of happiness fill her as she links her arm with Bucky’s once again.

She realized a while ago that she tends to gravitate towards his left side. It isn’t a conscious decision but maybe it’s a good one nonetheless.

Maybe it’ll show him that every part of him is worth loving, even the ones he doesn’t love himself.

“ When was the last time you did something crazy? “

He doesn’t like the way those words sound tumbling from her lips. He does, however, like very much how her eyes sparkle in the light of the setting sun. Their walk had turned into a bit of a hike and by the time they’ve finally made it back to the lake, the sun is about to set. Everyone seems to have retreated back into the lodge, maybe to sit by the big cozy fireplace or up to their room with their several beds. More than one. plural.

Bucky doesn’t want to let go of their time together though. Not yet. Just a little bit longer. And if that means agreeing to one of her weird ideas, so be it.

"Uh well, I fought aliens a few months ago."

"Huh … well see that's not an answer I was prepared for I mean more like, when did you last do something stupid but fun?"

“Like dancing in the middle of a street or having a cake fight in a parking lot?”

“Yeah …. like that.”

She looks at him again with that mischief and that softness. Like a mix of all things that make you feel alive shine back at him from her eyes.

“Wanna go swimming?” (Y/N) asks and smirks at him.

“Now? It’s freezing.”

“ I know,” she replies and shrugs her shoulders “ and I know it’s silly and dumb and we’ll probably get sick but I kinda wanna do it anyway. Wait … can you get sick?”

“Huh?”

“Because of the serum.”

“You know, they didn’t exactly give me a manual when they injected it so — guess we’ll have to find out.”

“So you’re in?”

Bucky only nods his head in agreement. She doesn’t need to know that he’d agree to anything she suggests. Any little thing.

The woods around them are dark and thick and where they probably should be scary they are comforting now. They’re a shelter from the eyes of onlookers. A safe roof and walls to keep their little bubble safe and hold their moment tight and safe.

“Holy shit, it’s freezing!” (Y/N) hisses through clenched teeth as the water reaches up to her shoulders, the straps of her yellow bra the only colors shining through the dark night.

Don’t think about it. He has to tell himself. Don’t think about the fact that she’s only in her underwear. Don’t think about her soft skin and her smile and what her body feels like against yours. Don’t!

He doesn’t have to scold himself for too long before a cold splash of water hits him right in the face.

“Oh, you made a mistake” Bucky calls out to a laughing (Y/N) who tries her best to tread water and get as far away from him as possible but fails to do so, being wrapped up in his arms only seconds later.

For the next few minutes, they splash around like children at the neighborhood pool.

The cold of the night and the lake rattle their bones but neither of them seems to care as a familiar warmth wraps itself around their hearts.

It’s really fascinating how the little moments can become so meaningful. How one person can mean so much so quickly. How drastically your life can change just because of one single person and their kindness and their love.

“Oh-oh!” (Y/N) exclaims excitedly and lays little enthusiastic slaps on Bucky’s shoulder “let’s do the dirty dancing lift. You can lift me, right?”

“I have a vibranium arm…”

“Right. Yeah. Right.”

Bucky places his hands on her waist and pulls her a little closer, trying to ignore the incessant thumping of his heart that feels like it wants to break out of his chest. “Okay on 3.”

“One”

Her eyes look deep into his as if trying to search for something in them. Secrets. Hidden feelings. The truth.

“Two”

And when she smiles, almost shy, it seems for a second that she’s found whatever she’s been looking for. He hopes she likes the secret she uncovers. He hopes it doesn’t scare her off from loving him.

“Three”

In a swift motion, he lifts her up above his head, holding her strong and steady as drops of water, cold as ice, rain down on him while (Y/N) laughs and stretches out her arms.

“We did it! I’m flying, Jack!”

“What?”

“Nevermind.” She retorts and lets out another laugh. Yeah, maybe he’s freezing his ass off but to hear her laugh like that, makes it all worth it.

He doesn’t let her fall over like they do in the movie, instead, he grips her waist tighter, slowly and gently lowers her back into the water. And when she’s back right in front of him, chest against his, he should be letting go of her, but he doesn’t.

While his head keeps screaming at him to just let go, his heart tells him otherwise, makes him stay right there.

(Y/N)’s arms move across his chest and gently wrap themselves around his neck before her fingers start to delicately play with his hair.

He wonders if any person has ever felt the way he does in that moment. He wonders if maybe a poet or a writer or a musician has and if maybe they wrote a poem or a book or a song about it. Maybe that would help him understand. Maybe he could read it or listen to it and keep this moment captured in that piece of art forever. Because he fears that no memory can ever do justice to the way he feels when she moves closer.

When her hand cups his face when her nose nuzzles against his so gently as if she’s afraid he’ll pull away any second.

It’s just them and their wildly beating hearts and the woods providing them shelter and the water setting the scene and the stars shining down upon them.

It’s just them — until it isn’t.

“(Y/N), Bucky? You guys out there?” Robin's voice calls out into the night as her silhouette appears against the light coming from the porch of the Inn.

“Yes, it’s us. We’ll be right in.” (Y/N) calls back, having moved away slightly. The spell is broken and Bucky lifts his hand off of her, immediately missing the contact.

“It’s freezing, we should probably go inside.” She says and grants him a smile, though it doesn’t entirely reach her eyes and he can faintly see her shivering.

“Yeah let’s go. Get you warmed up.”

They don’t talk about their moment as they head inside and get swallowed by the group of people all hyped up with excitement for the coming day.

Bucky is sure though that as long as there are stars in the sky, he will not forget this moment however fleeting and insignificant it might seem.

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[littlemisspascal]

The Last Mandalorian

Chapter One: The Warrior in Carbonite Part 3

Fandom: The Mandalorian / Pedro Pascal

Eventual Pairing: Din x Togruta!Female!Reader

Word Count: 4,320

Rating: G

Summary: A series that is a mixture of Mandalorian, Star Wars, ATLA, and my own imagination. The Imps have seized control of the majority of the galaxy, including your homeworld Shili. You and your sister Ahsoka have developed a daily routine despite the stormtroopers keeping your village imprisoned. One morning you make a startling discovery that will change the course of your lives forever.

Warnings: I don’t know much about starship mechanics so probably nothing in this is accurate but it’s fanfiction people so cut me some slack please, reader gets a nickname 🥳, plot plot plot, discussion of loss of loved ones, worldbuilding, dialogue heavy, this is a slow burn but it’s also ridiculously self-indulgent so I’m including as many cute getting-to-know-you scenes as I can, reader is 17 and Din is 19 so I’m going to warn this as underage even though nothing sexual or even vaguely romantic happens in this chapter.

Author Note: Thank you anyone and everyone who has read even a sentence of this story! Special thanks and love to @dindja for creating this stunning, fantastic, amazing piece of fanart for me 💖💖💖 I still can’t believe how perfect it is. I mean, I’m such a sucker for pinky promises it’s not even funny and this is just beautiful 😍😍😍

Part 2

Cross-posted on AO3

For as grand and wide-reaching as the Galactic Empire has become in its ten years of existence, it had relatively small beginnings. A group of radical Force-wielders banded together under the leadership of an old, beady-eyed man named Sheev Palpatine who believed it was his divine destiny to seize control of the entire galaxy, rewriting the ancient laws to match his own beliefs. His cult, the Sith Order, gained attention by attacking Jedi temples, capital cities, places with large populations until every corner of the galaxy had heard of them. Most regarded them with fear, but over time they began garnering a startling amount of followers who were discontent with the status quo and willingly drafted themselves as soldiers in Palpatine’s fight for control.

At first everyone in your village thought Palpatine and his cult of followers weren’t worth worrying about—after all, Shili was a peaceful planet that never drew much attention to itself. But within the first year of its inception, the Sith Order captured Ryloth and the similar peaceful characteristics between the Twi’lek planet and Shili were too glaring to overlook. A seed of anxiety took root in every Togruta’s mind after that, and continued to grow with every planet seized as the years progressed.

The Decimation of Alderaan didn’t start as a tragedy, believe it or not. The Mandalorians, Jedi, and Alderaanians combined their numbers in an all-out fight against the Sith Order. It was the largest battle ever fought in the history of the galaxy, thousands of souls willing to die to defeat Palpatine’s followers. For the first three days of warfare, the fight seemed to be in favor of the allies with many noteworthy Sith members reportedly killed in the fray, such as Palpatine’s second-in-command Dooku and lethal Zabrak assassin Maul. You remember there was a sense of hope felt within your village as everyone listened to the news reports blaring across the Holonet. A belief that things were finally, finally going to return to normal after so much chaos.

But on the fourth day, the Sith Order brought their own ally onto the battlefield.

At the time there wasn’t a name for the droids that slaughtered every opponent they faced. They were described as indestructible, unharmed by blasters and the intense heat of Mandalorian flamethrowers. Not even lightsabers could damage them. The allies didn’t stand a chance, brutally murdered one by one, their dying screams echoing across the Holonet, forever haunting listeners far and wide.

The Dark Troopers were unleashed upon Mandalore afterwards and out of the ashes rose the Galactic Empire, except, in a twist nobody—not even the Sith Order—saw coming: Palpatine died before taking on the title of emperor, passing away in his sleep. A mediocre ending for the monster who permanently altered the foundations of the universe. One of his loyal followers from the cult’s early beginnings took control in his place, a vile man with a penchant for spilling blood and a deceptively bland name: Gideon.

Only seven years-old then, you didn’t understand the unbalance in the Force your aunt kept referencing. You didn’t understand the meaning of the word genocide either. But you did understand the galaxy would never be the same ever again, and the lesson was only further established as truth when the Imperials seized your village. 

There is no normalcy to return to anymore.

And as long as Emperor Gideon remains in control, there is no future to hope for either.

__

Silence reigns in the aftermath of Maar’s explanation as the long list of tragedies hangs heavy over the four occupants. There is tension in the air as you await the Mandalorian’s response to the extinction of his people, whether that be an outburst of anger or tears, and each passing minute only intensifies the nervous energy thrumming through your veins. Your leg starts to bounce restlessly, a bad habit you have had since childhood.

The Mandalorian stands eerily motionless. Your eyes keep flicking from your lap to his visor though you know it is rude to stare. His helmet hides his expression, but you don’t need to see it to know he is floundering right now, mind scrambling to piece together all the details thrown at him. From personal experience, you know the loss of a loved one hits like a tidal wave, hitting you over and over again until you must decide if you are going to stand up or surrender to drowning. Grieving the loss of your parents is the hardest experience of your lifetime to date.

But this...this is vastly different. The Mandalorian didn’t just lose his loved ones. He has lost his friends, neighbors, comrades, acquaintances, everyone all at once. This loss isn’t a tidal wave. It is a kriffing avalanche, burying him ten feet under in total darkness, and there is no one he can count on to save him. 

Finally, after the longest five minutes of your life, he shifts, resting his hands upon his belt with an unexpected air of seriousness. “I need to go.”

You frown, head tilting. That is his reaction?

“Go?” Ahsoka echoes, sounding as incredulous as you feel. “Go where?”

“To look for survivors,” he answers, blunt and harsh, the words forced through clenched teeth. 

Ahsoka is struck silent, and you feel your heart break on his behalf. Your mother’s stories about the Mandalorians had always included, one way or another, their lifelong bonds with each other. You had felt those ties when you had connected with the Mandalorian, believed for a moment as strongly as he did that his fellow warriors would come search for him, that his absence would be noticed and missed amongst them. And here he is now, still desperately clutching to them, unable—or, perhaps unwilling is more apt—to believe a stranger telling him those bonds have been cruelly severed. 

“What you need is to rest,” Maar says, gentle yet firm, letting her authority as the eldest in the room seep into her tone.

He shakes his head, not backing down. “I’ve been asleep for ten years. I don’t need any more rest.”

“Your ship, it, uh,” your shoulders hike up defensively when his visor snaps in your direction, pinning you with its blank stare. Clearing your throat, you continue with a slight grimace, “It’s going to need some repairs before it can take off. I can help you fix it.”

Ahsoka looks over at you in surprise, and then in worry. You don’t blame her, especially since the offer had slipped out without you consciously meaning it to. Once again, the Force is calling the shots and you are just along for the ride, a passenger in your own body.

He considers you for a long moment, then asks, “What do you know about the mechanics of a gunship?” 

If anyone else had asked you that same exact question, you would have bristled at their condescension and retracted your offer in the next breath. But with the Mandalorian, there isn’t even the slightest hint of patronizing courtesy. It is a serious question prompted from genuine curiosity.

You sit up straighter, smiling at him now. “Enough to confidently say I’m your best shot at getting off the ground.”

__

“What’s your plan, exactly?” Ahsoka asks you, braced against the wall with one eye on you and one on the Mandalorian across the garage, patiently waiting for you to finish assembling your tool kit. 

“Huh?” You reply distractedly, trying to decide if you should bring your carbon chisel or not. 

“You don’t have one, do you?”

Not. There are bigger concerns than a bit of carbon scoring. You move to grab your favorite screwdriver with a tapered socket, only for Ahsoka to snatch it away, holding the tool hostage.

“Hey!”

“Have you thought about what you’re doing?” Ahsoka asks slowly, staring you directly in the eyes. “Once you fix his ship, he’s gone. And he’s taking our best chance at escaping Shili with him.”

A quick glance over your shoulder shows the Mandalorian studying the scattered BB unit parts on your workbench. You are missing a few vital components needed in order to bring the little droid back to life after a stormtrooper shot a plasma bolt through it for accidentally bumping into his leg, and haven’t had any luck convincing the village traders to track them down for you when they went to the capital. 

“We can’t keep him here against his will,” you manage at last, turning back to your sister. “Otherwise we’re no better than the Imps.”

When Ahsoka doesn’t say anything, you shrug a shoulder, adding, “Besides, I think I’m supposed to fix it for him. The Force seems pretty insistent about it.”

She makes a face at that. “I liked you better when you ignored your Force instincts. You didn’t make me worry as much.”

A laugh escapes you, embarrassingly loud in the otherwise quiet space, and your cheeks immediately start burning. Ahsoka’s lip twitches like she wants to smile, but instead she schools her features into a blank expression when the Mandalorian’s head turns at the sound. Only once he diverts his attention elsewhere again does her stare lose some of its intensity, looking less like she wants to dissect him beneath a microscope. You can practically see her protective-older-sister-instincts buzzing, reacting to the warrior’s presence. 

As much as he is a chance at providing an escape, he is also first and foremost a complete and total stranger. Even worse, he is a complete and total stranger who knows how to handle weapons. 

“I’ll be fine, I promise.” You squeeze her arm reassuringly. “Shouldn’t take longer than a couple of hours. You’ll be so busy smoothing the Elders’ ruffled feathers you won’t even notice I’m gone.”

Ahsoka finally relinquishes the tool, exhaling a quiet sigh. “You shouldn’t make promises you don’t know for certain you can keep.”

__

Walking side by side with the Mandalorian in silence isn’t awkward, per se, but it definitely isn’t comfortable either. He is close enough your arm keeps accidentally grazing against his, the cold brush of metal against your skin startling you each time. You would have considered his nearness strange if you hadn’t heard Ahsoka threaten to castrate him if you wound up hurt before she sent him flying at the juni tree branch outside your window with an unnecessarily strong push of Force. 

To his credit, the warrior handled her rough treatment with the same ease he has handled everything else thrown at him. You are beginning to think Mandalorians don’t just wear beskar—they are made of it too. Other than the few glimpses of frustration earlier in Maar’s office, he keeps his cards close to his chest, impossible to read. 

He watches everything though, reacting to the slightest of movements and sounds. Constantly alert. You are certain he is watching you right now, despite the fact his helmet is facing forward, your nerves prickling in response to the sensation of eyes upon you.

To your surprise, he is the one to break the silence first. “You sneak out often.”

It is a statement, not a question. 

You suppose the dots are easy enough to connect to reach that conclusion. Still, the certainty in his voice has your heart skipping a nervous beat. He hasn’t even known you a day and yet he is privy to secrets no one outside your community is aware of. “Yeah,” you nod your head after a brief lapse of silence, “Ahsoka can’t train in the village. Not with the stormtroopers around.”

“Has your village tried to run them out? Fight back?”

It is only because you know he is just trying to understand your village’s predicament with the little bits of information he has that you don’t snap at him for being so insensitive. He has no idea what these past five years have been like for you all. No idea the amount of losses and sacrifices the community has suffered. 

Your grip on your tool kit tightens. “I was twelve when they came. The community is mostly traders and hunters, not trained fighters. The few weapons we had were nothing compared to their blaster rifles, but some of the adults tried to defend the village, including our parents. They...” You swallow, or try to, at least, your throat suddenly dry as sand. “Our aunt looked after us until last year we woke up one morning to find a note she’d left to join the rebellion. We haven’t had any contact with her since.”

The Mandalorian’s gloved hand brushes against your knuckles. This time you think it might have been on purpose.

“I lost my parents as a child, too. There was a riot and they died protecting me,” he offers his own private details with the same reluctance as one volunteering to have their teeth pulled out. “The Mandalorians took me in, raised me as one of their own.”

You say nothing about the way his breath slightly hitches when he says Mandalorians, appreciating his openness as it puts you both on somewhat equal footing with each other. 

“I owe it to them to look for survivors,” he tells you, and your montrals detect the quietest hint of a plea in his voice. 

“I understand,” you answer, keeping your tone light to preserve the fragility of this moment. This kind of situation doesn’t happen often—two strangers on the same wavelength, exposing their vulnerable underbellies, desperate to be heard and yet skittish at the same time—and it is oddly therapeutic. 

A decision is made right then and there in the span of a heartbeat. And even more significantly, it is 100% your own choice without any intervention or manipulation from the Force. 

You stop walking, causing the Mandalorian to halt as well. He scans the area for a threat, then visibly jerks when he turns back to find you have your hand held out towards him, pinky raised high, reacting as if you are pointing a weapon at him.

“I don’t understand,” he says, blunt and almost suspicious sounding. Are you just imagining it or can you actually hear him frowning? “What are you doing?”

“Haven’t you ever made a pinky promise with someone before?”

“...A what?”

You snort, ducking your head to hide your smile, and then reach for his hand. Surprisingly, he doesn’t protest your touch.

“A pinky promise,” you repeat as you make his hand form a fist, curling his fingers towards his palm, and then adjust his pinky so you can wrap yours around it. He watches the whole process wordlessly. “It’s a sacred vow shared between two people. The Elders say once it’s sworn, the promise can never be broken.”

He cocks his head, skeptical. “Never?”

“Never,” you reaffirm with a nod. Licking your lips, you look at his visor, right where you instinctively know his eyes are staring back. “I promise I’m going to help you. No matter the odds.”

And something leaks into your voice then, something resolute and binding and otherworldly. A tremor shoots down your spine, too quick for you to make sense of it.

Your sister’s words echo in the back of your mind, ‘You shouldn’t make promises you don’t know for certain you can keep.’ 

You try to pull away, self-doubt gnawing a hole in your stomach, only for the Mandalorian to wrap his pinky tighter around yours, holding you still. A gasp escapes your lips, muffled by the bleeding sincerity in his voice as he swears:

“I promise I will be there when you need me. No matter the odds.”

And although your sister could undoubtedly provide you with a long list of reasons why you shouldn’t, you believe his promise to be true.

__

The Mandalorian heaves a heavy sigh at the sight of his crashed ship. 

“I can’t do much about the landing gear,” you inform him, believing honesty to be the best policy for cases like this. “And I brought some foam-jet for the cockpit viewport, but it’s not a permanent fix. You’re going to have to find someone offworld to replace them.”

“Right,” he agrees absently without turning his eyes away. It occurs to you then that this ship is the closest thing to a home he has now. One of the few precious relics from his past he can still physically cling to. 

“Does your ship have a name?” you ask.

He looks at you, as if coming back to self-awareness, and answers, “Razor Crest.”

A good name, you think. Strong. A bit mysterious. Just like its owner.

You nod decisively. “I like it.”

His modulator crackles faintly, a quiet noise produced from a sudden exhale of air. You blink at the unexpected sound, surprised to realize you recognize it. A laugh. The Mandalorian just laughed at something you said. What is next in store for you? Are akul going to sprout wings and start flying?

He steps around you, heading for the side entry door still open from yesterday with its ramp laying on the ground, pebbles shifting noisily beneath his boots with each step. You don’t realize you are staring, oddly entranced by the swish of his cape and his purposeful strides, until he calls out your name to ask if you are coming.

You nearly drop your tool kit in your haste to follow after him into the Crest’s interior, ignoring the flaring heat radiating from your cheeks. 

For the next few hours, you and the Mandalorian work in companionable silence, engrossed in rerouting wires and welding damaged components with your trusty hand torch. The gunship is older than you initially assumed, perhaps even as old as yourself, and you idly wonder if the Mandalorian found it in a scrapyard somewhere or maybe inherited it from another Mandalorian. You notice the way he handles each piece with an experienced and respectful touch; the same kind of care someone reserves for their most cherished possessions. Anyone with eyes can see how much he loves the Crest just by watching him.

Once you have finished sealing the numerous cracks dissecting the cockpit’s viewport like a spiderweb with foam, you approach the Mandalorian to see his progress on returning power to the dashboard. He is on his back beneath the steering controls, rearranging a mess of wires, and barely acknowledges your presence when you squeeze yourself into the tight space next to him.

“The red wire goes before the white one,” you point out, noticing the mistake immediately. “Fire hazard.”

He pauses, looks at where you have gestured, and corrects his error without criticizing your intervention. You bite back a smile, pleased to be heard. Within your community, even though you have proven your skills time and time again, some of the villagers, usually men, don’t always adhere to your advice, thinking you are too young and too female to know about technology, until they inevitably make their problems worse for themselves and come back to you with their metaphorical tail between their legs. 

You help him reattach the cover plating once he has finished, screwing the bolts back into their corners, and then watch, fingers crossed, as he attempts the ignition sequence, flipping a series of switches.

None of them light up with even the faintest flicker of life.

“Dank farrik,” he growls under his breath, slamming a fist upon the console.

You take a tiny step forward, hesitant to direct his frustration your way. “Can I try?” 

He tilts his head, probably thinking he knows this ship better than anyone and if it doesn’t work for him then you aren’t going to have any luck either.

Eventually he steps back with a shrug, uttering a simple, “Sure.” 

Although you can’t remember the last time you were on a ship, it doesn’t take long to refamiliarize yourself with the various controls and screens once you take a seat in the pilot chair. When your hobby for fixing broken machines changed into a passion you wanted to pursue as a future career, you started memorizing any reading material you could find on the Holonet, including the flight manuals for different classes of starships. You flip through the stored information in your mind about gunships as you press a few buttons on the panel overhead, trying out different sequences for a response.

When your third attempt fails, you bite your lip, racking your brain for a solution. You think about Huno’s kitchen droid and how you had been on the verge of ripping off one of your head-tails trying to repair it after one of its fuses blew, causing it to malfunction. Your tools and knowledge hadn’t been able to fix it in the end. It had required a special remedy to bring it back to life.

You lay your palms flat on the console, just as you had held onto the droid’s square torso. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the Mandalorian fidget, as if he wants to come closer but is hesitant to crowd you. You ignore him, pressing your fingertips harder against the metal, visualizing in your mind the unseen gears, cables, and components stiff and powerless. You imagine the parts working properly, a current of electricity running through each wire, life ultimately returning to the entire ship, and whisper under your breath a request to the Force.

“Please work, please work, please work…”

An invisible pulse of energy burns down the length of your arms and discharges through your fingertips, strong enough you jerk backwards against the seat. Every button and screen on the dashboard lights up all at once, beeping with alarm at being so rudely resurrected.

You sit there helplessly, stunned and breathless, hands twitching in your lap. The kitchen droid hadn’t required even half as much energy to restart, barely a pinch. Now your body feels like you have been thrown against the electric fence a dozen times. Wordlessly, the Mandalorian comes to your side to help, punching buttons and turning knobs until the alarms quit blaring. A distant part of your brain thinks the Razor Crest as a whole seems strangely soothed by his presence, not quite as cold and dark, but it is hard to follow that train of thought due to the distracting pain throbbing along your temples.

“That’s quite a spark you’ve got,” he says, not unkindly or accusingly, just a statement of the obvious. He looks down at you, not outright asking for an explanation, but giving you the opportunity to open up if you wanted to.

“Yep, that’s me,” you reply, forcing a cheerful smile, praying it doesn’t resemble a grimace. “Sparks Tano at your service.”

He chuckles again, oblivious to how your heart stutters at its raspiness. “Thank you, Sparks. I appreciate it.”

“Well, we’re not done yet.” You rub at your temples under the guise of adjusting your headband. “I need to take a closer look at the engines before we attempt flying out of here. I—”

“I’ll do it,” he cuts in, already heading for the ladder. “You stay here, see if you can update the navicomputer settings.”

You know he knows that updating the navicomputer is child’s play for you. Clearly you aren’t as great at concealing your pain as you thought you were and this is his way of giving you a break. A small part of you is irritated at being treated like a porcelain doll, but you push those negative feelings aside as quickly as they develop. Your aunt always used to remind you and Ahsoka it was okay to accept help when it was offered, that needing support didn’t in any way make you weak. 

“Hey, wait a second,” you call out as you spin around in your seat, freezing him right before he disappears from view into the hull. He holds onto the ladder, waiting patiently for you to continue.

“Back at Maar’s place you didn’t introduce yourself and it’s weird just calling you Mandalorian in my head,” you say, awkwardly drumming your fingers on top of the armrests. He doesn’t answer, eliciting a sigh from your mouth after a drawn-out beat of silence. “What’s your name? You do have one, right?”

“I do, but I can’t tell you it,” he admits at last. “By Mandalorian Creed, only other Mandalorians or my riduur—my spouse,” he corrects, seeing your confusion, “are allowed to know my name and see my face. This is the Way.”

He doesn’t linger to hear your response, dropping down into the hull with a resounding thud. You slowly turn back around, staring absently out the glass. Every culture is unique, including your own, but you think there is something especially interesting about the Mandalorians’. It sounds like a lonely existence, only able to show your face while in select company. What would have happened if he had been unconscious and you had slipped the helmet off his head? What consequence would he have faced? 

And if there truly aren’t any Mandalorians left besides him, his spouse will be the only one to ever know him completely. It almost sounds like a love story, if not a little bit heart-wrenching. 

Two high-pitched dings from the console jerk you out of your thoughts with a wince. You look for the source, finding the radar lit up and actively scanning the area, and bristle when you see a pair of red dots moving across the screen. 

Not even a minute later you are sprinting out of the cave, ignoring the Mandalorian’s alarmed shout from the roof of the Razor Crest. They’re early, you think with panic, looking towards the sky where two starships with Imperial logos are heading straight for your village. Why have they come back so soon?

You push your legs to run faster, your surroundings a blur beyond the trail in front of you, but the effort is meaningless. You won’t make it back home before they land.

And when your absence is noted, bloodshed is not a possibility. 

It is a guarantee.

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[thetypedwriter]

Kingdom of the Cursed Book Review

Kingdom of the Cursed Book Review by Kerri Maniscalco 

So, I tried really hard to make my review of the first novel by Maniscalco, Kingdom of the Wicked, as spoiler free as possible. Be warned that this second review for Kingdom of the Cursed will not play by the same rules. 

I’ve got some bones to pick with this sequel. You have been warned right here and now that if you read on, there will be spoilers. 

That being said, this second novel frustrated me to no end, and not in a good way. 

There are so many things I want to fume about in regards to this book that I don’t even know where to start. I suppose the best place is simply the beginning. 

At the start of the novel, Emilia de Carlo is still on the quest to find her twin sister’s murderer and that quest has brought her within the circles of the seven demon princes of Hell, dangerously close to monsters, and confronting the truth of her own identity and upbringing. 

The first book wasn’t without its problems, but those problems were easily ignored by the sheer entertainment of the story itself. 

Unfortunately, the reverse is true for Kingdom of the Cursed. 

I was so excited to begin reading and I was especially curious about Maniscalco’s depiction of Hell. Hell has been described before many times and in many different narratives, as Maniscalco points out by making an allusion to the Aeneid. I was high with anticipation of how Maniscalco would twist Hell and make it her own. 

My excitement died after page five. 

Her version of Hell is the exact same as the human world except it’s cold and people care less about propriety. That’s it. I was expecting magical landscapes, interesting world-building, and an intricate magic system and I got none of it. 

It’s a barren, cold landscape with seven castles. Everything else seems to reflect earth, down to the fact that the demon realm has reporters and journalism apparently. 

I found Maniscalco’s version of Hell derivative, boring, and unoriginal. 

You could argue that the setting really isn’t the most important aspect and you would be right. However, the setting framed the backdrop for the story to occur and it was poorly set up from the start. 

Next, are the characters. Without a doubt, the biggest draw of this novel for me personally (and probably many others) are the seven demon princes of Hell. I wanted to get to know them all. I wanted nuanced characterization, convoluted relationships, intriguing backstories, and deep motivations. 

Once again, like the setting, I got none of it. 

The focus is on Wrath and on Wrath alone. 

Others might argue that the other demon princes play a role, but they really, really don’t. Not in any sort of significant way. I could not tell you what any of the demon princes look like except for Pride has a scar and Wrath has a massive body. That’s it. 

After hundreds of pages of reading, I personally consider this a failure on Maniscalco’s part. If I can’t even tell you one obvious characterization (other than their namesake sin), physical or personality-wise, you have failed as an author. 

That being said, I don’t think Maniscalco was trying. Her focus was on Wrath and because of that the other characters suffered tremendously. Maniscaclso had so much potential to actually do something interesting with the seven brothers. I wanted juicy alliances, antagonism, and love. 

Nope. 

All the brothers seem to hate each other and Wrath is the most powerful. That’s it. That’s the only character dynamics we get. I would tell you more, but there’s nothing more to tell. I think Maniscalco dropped the ball creating actual, genuine relationships between the brothers and instead focused on the romance between Wrath and Emilia. 

And oh boy, buckle up, people. 

Romance is this novel’s bread and butter. Maniscalco relies so heavily on romance and passion that everything else in her story falls apart. I can summarize almost every chapter with the following formula:

Emilia desires Wrath. 

Emilia tells herself that it’s bad to desire Wrath since he’s a demon prince. 

She desires him anyway and they engage romantically or sexually.

Wrath desires her back, but pretends like he’s unaffected.

Emilia remembers her dead sister and her mission.

REPEAT OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN

That encapsulates the novel. Steps 1-5 are the entirety of this whole book. 

If Maniscalco had done this once or twice while other character relationships and plot points were developing, then sure, that would be great. Slow burn forbidden romances are the height of what I love. However, when this same exact cycle literally happens EVERY chapter, it grows really old, really fast. 

Probably by the third chapter where Emilia wants Wrath, tries to remind herself why it’s a bad idea, and then doesn’t give a shit when she notices his abs or something, I had to close the book before I lost my mind. 

It’s an irritating, lazy way to write the second novel. 

I enjoyed the fact that Emilia grew more confident in her sexuality and learned to take desire for herself—that's awesome. But the journey she takes to get there is filled with denial that is constantly banal and predictable. 

So for hundreds of pages, Emilia pines after Wrath and tries to convince herself that she’s not for the duration of the entire story. That should be the summary for it on Amazon. 

That being said, the romance between them is passionate and spicy, and as a reader you want to see them give in to their urges and come together. Said scenes are actually very risque for YA. 

I was actually really shocked by the explicit sexual content of a novel that’s labeled as YA. I don’t know if the parameters have changed or if Maniscalco and James Patterson clarified that this book was for 18+, but I was downright baffled by the gratuity of the scenes. 

Don’t get me wrong, they were kind of hot, but that doesn’t dismiss the point that this is a YA novel. Children read YA novels and there were certainly scenes in this book that I wouldn't recommend for children. 

So, please be warned that if explicit sexual content is not for you, you should not read this book. I personally was really taken aback and surprised by it. 

In terms of the plot, I don’t have a lot to say. It was convoluted and illogical like the first book. I think I was able to follow the first book a little bit better, but the plot stopped mattering in Kingdom of the Cursed even though Maniscalco tries to pretend otherwise. 

Emilia is looking for clues about her sister. No one gives her answers and the answers she does get are vague and mysterious. She’s looking for some items like a mirror and a key. There's a cursed tree and a feast of debauchery. 

For reasons that don’t make any sense, Emilia is the guest of honor which means a secret or truth is ripped from her heart. None of this is explained in any way that makes sense. 

During the actual feast, there’s a really confusing hunting scene that’s also not explained well. Emilia steals a bunch of plants that are just lying around, but are apparently top secret.

Wrath decides to have sex with Emilia and somehow that counts instead of Emilia giving up her secret???? Honestly, at this point I gave up trying to understand Maniscalco’s ridiculous plot because it didn’t matter. 

Emilia and Wrath then have sexy times and then for some unfathomable reason Emilia drugs him. I really, truly don’t understand why. After, she goes off to the cursed tree. From here on out, Maniscalco tries to make some big reveals that are supposed to be shocking. 

They were only disappointing. 

First, you learn that Pride isn’t actually the devil, Wrath is! Gasp. 

Except, not really because a preschooler could have told you that. First of all, the whole idea that they’re all demon princes, but one of them is the king and the king is actually the one known as the devil is horrifically unexplained. I thought for the longest time that there was a separate devil, but I believe it’s just a title. 

So whoever is the strongest of the brothers receives the title of the devil. None of this was done well. As readers, we then learn that Wrath is actually the devil instead of Pride and that Pride is a sort of figurehead. 

We are supposed to be shocked by this, but how can we be? All Maniscalco has done the entire book is talk about Wrath while shafting the brothers. So no, it’s not shocking that he’s actually the one in charge. 

Then, Maniscalco drops the supposed bomb that Emilia’s twin sister, Vittoria, is actually alive and the mastermind behind everything????

I abhor this. 

First, if characters are dead they should stay dead. Otherwise, you’re cheapening the value of life and the consequences and emotions that the characters feel. Secondly, this was Emilia’s whole motivation and I really liked the Frozen-esque girl power determination to enact vengeance for sister’s murder. 

All of that is just thrown in the trash. 

By the end of the novel, I was unimpressed with the so-called “reveals”, bored of the romance cycle, and genuinely at a loss in terms of the plot. The book was still sort of good in a dumpster trash-fire kind of way where it’s so bad that it’s almost good. Almost. 

I know a lot of people are probably going to disagree with me on this book and that’s fine. To each their own. If you enjoyed the novel, that’s great. Feel free to leave a comment and explain why you do. If there are others like me out there who were baffled and annoyed by this novel, you are not alone. 

Recommendation:

….I wouldn’t read it. If you really just want some good sexy times then sure, go for it. I think that’s the only thing this book does well. If you’re looking for an interesting story, nuanced characters, and an intriguing world, you will most definitely have to look elsewhere. 

Score: 4/10

#kingdom of the cursed #kingdom of the wicked #kerri maniscalco #spoiler warning #4/10 #book blog #book #books #book review #favorite books #top books #popular fiction #Popular Books #Teen Romance #romance fiction #Book Recommendations #book rec #YA Book Review

[winterscaptain]

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Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: takes place after constellations and before through and through. this is just a fun little piece before i continue my descent into Ouchtown, USA with the ajf 100 arc. i am really excited to include more of these early-series ‘home scenes’ with the hotchners and reader!

an ajf fic that requires no context!

words: 2.6k warnings: language

summary: happy 3rd birthday, jack! it’s a family affair, in more ways than one. 

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed!

“So, how do you know the Hotchners?” A handsome man, probably just a little younger than Aaron (but significantly shorter), asks, filling his plate beside you.

“I work with Hotch - Aaron - Jack’s Dad - at the DoJ.” You keep your tone neutral, polite. There’s something off about him - he’s a little overeager, a little too comfortable in the Hotchner house. 

“Ah,” he says. “A profiler.” 

With a little laugh in your voice, you ask, “Are you familiar with the field?”

“Haley’s told me a little bit, but I wouldn’t call myself an expert, no.”

“I see. Do you know Haley well?”

“Yeah, my son is in Jack’s preschool class.” There’s still something he’s not telling you, but nevertheless, he sticks his hand out and you shuffle your plate to take it. “I’m Joseph. It’s nice to meet you.” 

Joseph. Not Joe. 

What happens if you call him Joe? 

Pin that for later. 

You introduce yourself and continue to make small talk for another few minutes, noting that he’s filled a second plate - you can only assume it’s for someone else. 

Let’s keep an eye on this one...

+++

“I’m so happy you all could make it.” 

You jolt back into your body after zoning out for a couple of minutes, finding yourself alone at one of the patio tables with Haley. A smile breaks across your face. “Me too.”

She snacks on a chip, delicately covering her mouth as she asks, “Is there anything exciting you’re all working on right now?”

Since when is Haley interested in cases? 

“Kind of. I head out to Colorado with Emily and Spencer tomorrow to go visit a religious cult on a compound in the mountains.” She laughs, and you follow suit. “So, it’s the little things, I guess.” 

“Very few things have changed, then?”

You nod, a knowing smile on your face. “Exactly.” 

There’s quiet for a moment and your eyes wander across the yard out of habit, taking stock of all the preschoolers running around, their parents at the perimeter. 

“Oh!” She sits forward, pulling her knee to her chest and propping her heel on the edge of her chair. 

You look back at her expectantly. 

“Did you like the book? Catch-22 is one of Aaron’s favorites. I think I wrote that in the note, but…” She gestures vaguely. “I thought it would be helpful.” 

Smacking your hand to your forehead, you laugh a little. “Oh, it was! I completely forgot to send a thank-you note, Haley, I’m sorry.” You lean forward conspiratorially. “I loved it. It was such a thoughtful birthday present. Thank you” 

Her nose scrunches up as she smiles. It’s adorable. “Good. I’m so glad.” 

+++

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Dave sidles up to you, eating a piece of cake. 

You follow his gaze, where Haley, Joseph, and their boys are kicking a soccer ball around. Haley’s full of laughter and unnecessary touches, but that’s not a new observation. 

You’ve had Joseph-not-Joe’s number since he first spoke with you. He seemed far too interested in getting to know the people close to Haley to be without ulterior motive. 

“I’m seeing something. I’m not sure what it is, yet.” You take a sip of your drink, letting your eyes wander. 

“Not for nothing,” Dave says, “and, of course, this stays between us -” 

“Of course.” 

“- But Aaron thought Haley was seeing someone before they got divorced, in the spring before you joined the team.” 

You hum. “Interesting. Do you think this is the guy?”

This is definitely the guy. 

“Well, there’s more to their relationship than ‘our kids go to preschool together,’ don’t you think?”

“Yeah, I do.” Your eyes wander to Aaron, who’s chatting with a couple of the parents, Emily at his side. He’s distracted, also focused on Haley and Joseph with the boys on the other side of the yard. “Give me a second, would you, Dave?” You absently hand him your drink as you cross over to the small cluster. 

“Hey, Hotch,” you put a hand on his shoulder with an apologetic smile to the mom you just interrupted. “I think we have a little bit of a crisis in the kitchen. Can I steal you for a minute?”

With a grateful look only you and Emily pick up on, he says, “Sure.” With a rueful smile and wave to the other parents, he leaves Emily to her own devices. Much to her (and your) relief, JJ and Will are on their way, ready to save her from the inane conversation. 

“What’s up?” Aaron asks, his brow just a little furrowed. 

Triple checking that the house is empty, you lead him into the kitchen and lean against the counter, crossing your arms. “What’s going on with you?” 

His eyes flicker around the room before settling back on you and his jaw is tight. Somehow, he’s still trying to avoid you when you’ve made it impossible. “What do you mean?” 

You level him with a Really? look. “Tell me.” 

“Fine.” He leans back and mirrors you, crossing his arms. With only a little bit of reluctance, he shares, “This is the first big event...thing since the divorce and I -” He huffs. “I don’t know how to be a divorced parent when I’m...in front of people? I don’t know.” 

You cross the kitchen and lean against the counter beside him, the heels of your hands resting on the marble. “You’re not alone. We’re here with you and nobody expects you to be perfect.” You laugh lightly. “There are at least seven divorced couples out in your yard right now. Weirdly, it’s normal.” 

He shrugs. “I guess.” His eyes wander to the window, where Haley and Joseph are still visible with some of the other parents, seated around one of the patio tables. Joseph’s arm rests casually on the back of Haley’s chair. 

That’s it. 

“What’s going on with those two?” You pointedly match his focus and Aaron sighs. 

“Did I ever tell you I thought Haley was seeing someone before we were divorced?” 

You shake your head, only a little thrilled he’s choosing to share this with you so soon after Dave read you into the secret. 

“I think that’s the guy.” 

“I was wondering about him, myself. He seemed a little…eager,” you say with a laugh. 

Aaron rolls his eyes. “He thinks he’s subtle, but I’d also imagine it’s rough to be the mistress when the ex is an FBI profiler.” 

You snort. “True.” 

Aaron’s hand covers yours and you look down, the contact shooting a spark through your arm and down your spine. 

Isn’t that the biggest cliche on the planet? 

“Thank you,” he says. “Thank you for being here.”

You look up again, meeting his eyes. “You’re welcome.” With a smile, you add, “I’ll always be here to save you from suburban moms and your ex-wife’s boyfriends.” 

The smile you get in return warms you from your scalp to your toes. 

+++

A couple of hours have passed, and Aaron settles into his role as the birthday boy’s dad. He’s been particularly demonstrative with Jack, but it’s all genuine. He chased him around the yard, threw him over his shoulder, covered him in kisses, and just generally lavished him in all the love of which he’s bereft while away on cases. 

It’s simultaneously weird and very normal to see him with that face-splitting grin. It looks at home there, and you wish you had the pleasure of seeing it more often. 

Watching father and son together is something special. The resemblance is often uncanny, even more so now as Aaron has Jack propped on his hip, chatting away, almost nose-to-nose. You’re only aware of the soft smile on your face when Jessica, Haley’s sister, plops down beside you. 

“Those two are something else, aren’t they?” She says with a little smile. 

You nod. “Two peas in a pod, for sure.” 

You’re both quiet for a moment, watching Haley jog up to the two of them, her cheeks flushed in the autumn chill. She lays a hand on Aaron’s arm as she speaks, her other hand rising to Jack’s face to rub some frosting off his cheek. 

“How’s it been on his end? Being apart?” 

You look over at Jess. “It’s been alright. He stays even later in the office, if you can believe it -”

“Is that even possible?”

“You’d be surprised,” you laugh. “I’ve been thinking about getting him a shock collar or something so I can train him to be home by eleven.” 

She snorts. “That would be a sight, wouldn’t it?”

The two of you share a raucous bout of laughter, drawing the attention of both Aaron and Haley. Their confused looks only make you laugh harder, and pretty soon you and Jess are clutching each other for dear life. 

You don’t know her well, but you imagine you’ll jump that hurdle. You’re already halfway there. 

In fact, the original thought isn’t even that funny anymore - you’re just laughing for the sake of it. It feels good.

+++

You find yourself next to Haley as the cleanup proceedings begin. She’s got a little smile on her face, and you take a moment to admire just how lovely she is. 

Haley, you think, is a bit like the sun. She’s bright, but will burn the shit out of you if you’re not careful. 

She glances up at you, blue eyes warm in the waning October sunshine. “Thank you.”

You hold up handfuls of wrapping paper and shrug. “No problem. Happy to help.”

“No,” she laughs. “I mean thank you for looking out for Aaron.” She lowers her voice and leans in toward you. “I know he’s not always cooperative.” 

You suppress a rueful smile. “Haley, I don’t -”

She lays a hand on your arm. “I know. Just…” Her eyes wander across the yard, where Aaron’s passing (a very pregnant) JJ a glass of water. “Thank you.” 

“I wish I could say it was my pleasure but...” you pull a yikes face and it makes her laugh again. 

+++

You end up spending much of your time together as she thanks guests and people start to go home. There’s a kind of camaraderie that develops between you and it feels like you’ve known each other for years. 

Her temperament tells you a lot about Aaron. They way they must have functioned together through the years. They’re so different, complementary, but you can see how things could get heated fast between them (good or bad).

She’s surprisingly affectionate by nature, her fingers glancing over your shoulder to direct you to tasks you’ve offered to help with, pressing a kiss to her sister’s temple as she passed her on the porch, holding onto Aaron’s forearm when she’s talking to him, and most notably, embracing Joseph by his car as he leaves, lingering only a little longer than she should. 

Nevertheless, you’re almost impressed by their restraint. You haven’t caught them on anything major, and it’s been close to eight hours since he arrived. You’re sure you haven’t seen the last of Joseph-not-Joe. 

Haley wears her emotions on her face. She can’t hide a thing. It’s refreshing. 

+++

You lean on the porch railing, enjoying the crispness of the early autumn evening. Dave stands beside you for a while in silence. When he’s had his fill of your tacit company, he kisses you on the cheek and bugs out with Spencer. 

Will takes JJ home a few minutes later. There’s a little smile on your face as you watch her take his arm down the front path, leaning on him. 

They’ll do well together. 

Soon, everyone else is gone, and you’re only a little concerned you’ve overstayed your welcome. Jess tells you you’re being ridiculous as you rearrange the fridge for leftovers. 

“When has my sister ever kicked anyone out of her house while they’re still of use?”

You take a moment, fighting a smile. “Thanks, Jess.” 

“As far as I’m concerned, the BAU is part of my extended family.” She bumps your shoulder. “And family is always welcome in a Brooks house.” 

+++

Even when it’s time for you to go home, it isn’t. 

Jack almost breaks down in tears when you kneel to hug him goodbye, so you’re trapped. It’s not like you can leave him, right? Not when he holds you hostage with those big brown eyes. 

Identical to Aaron’s. 

Funny enough, you can’t deny him anything either. 

Oh, that’s enough. 

Haley catches you by the forearm as Jack runs back to his dad, who gently launches him onto the couch. “You can sneak out, if you want to go home. I’ll distract Jack.” 

You raise your eyebrows. “And leave you without your buffer? Not a chance.” 

You’re rewarded with another laugh and she lets you go, shaking her head. She can’t say you’re wrong. As much as she and Aaron can fitfully coexist on their own, it’s much more comfortable with you around. 

Haley might love him, but she doesn’t always like him. You, for some reason, make it easier to like him.

She resolves to think a little more about that, for future reference. 

About twenty minutes later, you assume your role as the buffer and land between Haley and Aaron on the couch, with Jessica on her other side. Jack’s stretched out across all of you, his head in his mom’s lap and his little arm hanging off the edge. You managed to find a movie he actually wanted to watch, but you suspect he’ll be long asleep by the time it’s over.  

Aaron’s phone buzzes and he maneuvers it out of his pocket. Being nosy, you peer over him without disturbing Jack. 

Strauss.  

He answers it, quietly. “Hotchner.”

You can feel Haley’s disappointment and residual resentment without even looking at her. 

He continues to speak in hushed tones, drawing little patterns on the back of Jack’s calves as he does so. “Ma’am, I’ll take care of that when I’m back in the office...No ma’am, I’m with my family at the moment...Yes...Thank you, ma’am...You too.” Aaron takes a second and silences his phone, stretching a little to set it on the end table. 

You’re sure the rest of you are wearing matching expressions of shock. 

“It can wait.” He shrugs like it’s nothing and turns his attention back to the screen.

Turning to look at Haley, you find her staring at Aaron with a kind of soft surprise and pride in her eyes. You feel a little like an intruder, so you drop your eyes to the back of Jack’s t-shirt under your fingertips. 

In the rapidly-approaching darkness, Haley reaches for your hand and you take it, your hands landing on Jack’s little shoulder blade. You drop your head onto Aaron’s shoulder, leaning into the casual familiarity of the moment.

It’s nice to feel like family. 

“Thank you,” he says. It’s hardly a breath, let alone speech. 

You nod once. Anytime. 

If either one of them asked, you’d keep them from tearing their heads off forever. It’s not a far reach from your everyday responsibilities, you already do it for Aaron and Derek. Trading out one temper for another is almost easy. 

Aaron looks down the line when the credits start to roll, finding Jess and Haley with their eyes closed, leaning against each other. You’ve been out for a little while, now tucked under his arm where it’s stretched across the back of the couch. One of your hands still loosely holds Haley’s while the other rests on the middle of Jack’s back. His lips twitch up into a smile as he rests his head against the back of the couch. 

Maybe it will be alright.

+++

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