#But it didn't act like a chocolate eclair | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

idkwhatimdoinghere1655 · 2 months

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❤️Valentine - Charles Leclerc

'It don't matter be combative or be sweet cherry pie, it don't matter just as long as I get all you tonight'

Valentines day. The one day a year that all couples were supposed to get along, and act like they were totally, unbelievably, undeniably in love. Throwing around the balloons, teddy bears and the chocolate eclairs around like they meant nothing, because they didn't.

What really meant something was the real love. The real love that proper couples shared on a day to day basis. That was why Valentines day wasn't really for you and Charles. You loved each other whether it was the 14th of February or not.

You didn't need one specified day a year to love each other with your heart and soul. Therefore, neither of you were really a fan of Valentines. You both felt it was a cheap shot at what love was supposed to be. It wasn't all chocolates and roses, it wasn't all hearts and cupid's arrows.

But just because it wasn't that, didn't mean it wasn't a wonderful thing that was meant to be cherished. You didn't need cards with acrostic poems or sonnets to know that you loved each other, so you never really bothered with Valentines.

This year, though, you had suggested that the two of you go out for dinner. It wasn't for any special reason, you just wanted to since you hadn't been out for dinner together in a little while. Plus, restaurants tended to be a lot nicer on Valentines Day, so it was an added incentive.

Charles had agreed without a second thought, thinking it would be nine to go out for dinner with you. To be honest, he didn't really care where you were, as long as he got to spend time with you. He could take you out, or you could kill some time, stay home.

As long as you were together, he didn't care in the slightest. You had just finished putting your heels on, ready to go for your dinner reservation at seven. Both of you had agreed to get all dressed up, just for the novelty of it.

"Ready to go?" you asked, walking out of your bedroom as you shrugged your coat onto your shoulders. As per usual, Charles was looking handsome as ever in his suit, a single red rose in his hand. "That for me or your side chick?" you laughed.

"Only for you, mon amour. Although, it was a tough choice," he quipped back, tucking the rose behind your ear. "And you look absolutely breathtaking," he complimented, looking you up and down. Of course, he always thought you were the prettiest thing to ever set foot on the earth, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't like it when you put in some extra effort.

Looking at you, dinner wasn't looking so appealing right now. He wanted to skip straight to the dessert.

"And you're looking rather dapper, my love," you smiled, tugging him in by his lapels for a quick kiss before starting to walk towards your front door. That was enough for him to definitely rule going to dinner as an option for tonight.

There were others on the table, well, you were the only option on the table. It didn't have to be a table, it could've been anywhere in the house, but that wasn't the point. He wanted you, and he wanted you now. "You coming?" you asked, turning to look at him as he was rooted to the spot.

Within a split second, he has rushed up to you and pinned you against the door with his body. "No, I don't think I want to," he smirked, crashing his lips down onto yours. It was easy to feel how much he wanted to keep you at home, but you still wanted to go to dinner.

"Charles, hey, come on," you said, pulling away from the kiss. The devilish smirk that was dancing on his lips told you that you were in for it, but that had never necessarily been a bad thing.

"What?" he said innocently, as if he were completely oblivious as to where you were supposed to be going.

"Love, I want dinner, I'm hungry," you told him, batting your eyelashes at him.

"Why would I need dinner when I've got a twelve course banquet standing right in front of me?" he asked as if it were a serious question. He couldn't resist kissing you again, pushing your body harder against the door with his own.

"Please, mon amour," he whined with a pout, staring deep into your eyes. They could make you melt into a puddle of nothing on the floor with a single glance, and he was very hard to resist. He'd normally do whatever you asked of him, and the same went for you, but not tonight.

"Darling come on, let's go," you dismissed, pushing him away with a gentle nudge, before slipping out of the door.

"Do I have to get on me knees and beg you to forget about dinner? Because I will," he said, leaning against the doorframe as you walked down the corridor of your apartment complex. His statement had taken you off guard, if you were being honest.

"Don't do that, let's go," you repeated, looking at him with your arms crossed in defiance.

"I know that face. You want to cave in, but you're just doing this to prove a point. You don't have to prove anything to me, my love. Now, come back here and let me show you how much I love you," he stated, extending his hand out to you.

For a moment, you just looked at him. You hated how well he knew you, but it also made you squirm slightly. He knew he'd get you at some point in the night, but he was growing more and more impatient as the time went by.

"How much you love me, huh?" you said with a cocky smirk, trying to hide your crumbling resolve.

"Yeah, get your ass over here and I'll show you," he reiterated with a charming wink.

You took one small step towards him, and that was enough for him to grab your arm and tug you back into the apartment. "See? That wasn't so hard, was it? You can be a good girl when you want to," he snickered.

"Charles, really?" you groaned, trying to bite back an embarrassed giggle as your cheeks turned red. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you as close to him as he could before slowly walking you through the apartment and towards your bedroom.

"What, mon amour?" he grinned, softly kissing you. He loved how easy it was to make you blush, and it was honestly his favourite pastime. You were nearly red as the rose tucked behind your ear as you spoke.

"You're a dick sometimes," you rolled your eyes at him.

"But you love me," he stated, since it was a fact. Yes, you loved him, even when he tried to push your buttons. If anything, that made you love him more.

"It's a good job I do," you confirmed as your back came into contact with your bedroom door.

"And I fall more in love every day, my Valentine," he said, taking one hand off you to open the door and gently nudge you inside. "Now how about less talking and more showing?" he asked, but the question was fully rhetorical.

Closing the door behind him, Charles pushed you down onto the bed and loomed over you. "More showing sounds like a great idea," you agreed, pulling him in by his lapels again to kiss him.

"Good girl," he praised, before getting lost in the kiss. Valentines was all about expressing your love, and the two of you certainly didn't need dinner for that. Not when you had each other.

A/N - Happy valentines day my loves! Whether you're spending today with a special someone or not, I hope you've had a wonderful day and love you loads! I'm sat here, with a nice glass of rhubarb and raspberry tonic, enjoying a cozy night in with a box of chocolates my dad bought for me, what about you?

This is based off of Valentine by 5SOS, and it's such a bop. Keep a look out for Lando's Valentines Special, which is all done and ready to go in an hour or two!

|masterlist|

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dayvoidkyoto · 2 years

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stop fucking harassing Kwesi James.

i'm seeing way too many Try Guys fans commenting shit on his social media claiming that he knew about Ned and Alexandria because of the concert video, and that that makes him "just as bad as them".

no, it fucking doesn't.

let's say he knew. we don't know what he did with that information. everyone's assuming he hid it from Ariel. you don't fucking know that. he could have told her the second he knew and then have been told to stay quiet or act normal by Ariel because she didn't want the public to know before official statements could be made. none of us know what was happening behind the scenes.

the fact is, if he had gone public with it, the same people calling him a snake and an awful friend would have turned around and complained that he was "talking about things that didn't concern him" or "airing out other people's dirty laundry", and they fucking know it.

the Try Guys, their spouses, and at least part of the crew unfollowed Ned the second the statement went up. many of them unfollowed Alexandria as well. y'know who no one unfollowed? Kwesi. in fact, some people are saying the official account followed him for the first time after the statement--although i'll say to take that one with a grain of salt, as i don't know for sure that he wasn't followed in the first place. either way, no one unfollowed him (UPDATE 10/01/22: Ariel herself unfollowed Alex today. she didn’t unfollow Kwesi.). y'know why? maybe it's because she and everyone else can acknowledge that he didn't do anything wrong. you know, the actual people involved in the situation? whose opinion matters way more than the parasocial relationshipping fans on the internet that many of you are simply bandwagoning alongside with zero critical thinking skills.

i can't stress this one enough: the Try Guys had known since labor day weekend (9/5/22). this is an objective fact, they confirmed it themselves in their "what happened." video, which was posted on 10/4/22. no one is going after them, calling them snakes, or harrassing them. the crew had to have known for at least two weeks this is an objective fact. the first video Ned was cut out of was the Chocolate Eclair video, which went up exactly two weeks before the affair was confirmed (confirmed on 9/28/22, the video was uploaded 9/14/22). there's almost no way they found out, had a meeting, decided to cut him out, and then edited him out of it all in the hours of that Wednesday before they uploaded. that means they most likely knew beforehand. but, they could have done it all in a day. that still means they'd have known for two weeks. no one is saying shit to them (UPDATE 10/02/22: Rachel was apparently at the Harry Styles concert with them. her Instagram comment sections? full of love and support. not a "snake" or a "she knew" in sight). hmmmmm, i wonder why.

i'll close this out here with something many of you aren't going to want to hear: this unnecessary vilification of Kwesi is at least partially rooted in racism. you can't handle having to blame Ned alone for his actions, so you would rather harrass a Black man for no real reason to than acknowledge that your Favorite White Guy™ fucked up.

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puzzled-pegasus · 7 months

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Finches as John Mulaney quotes

Here I am again, finally gracing this fandom with my cursed sense of humor once more >:)

Here's some John Mulaney quotes which I thought fit each of the Finches! Let me know if you have any!

Edith:

"And then my mom said, 'I made a salad with Craisins! And the conversation ended."

"I am very small. And I have no money. So you can imagine the kind of stress that I am under."

Milton

"I always expected to be dead in a trunk with my hand hanging out the tail light by now!"

"Oh and what a mighty king I will be, eating dinner at 4:45 in the afternoon!"

"My lands stretch across this entire one bedroom!"

Lewis

"I'm probably gay based on the way I act and behave and…I've walked and talked for [21] years."

Dawn

"One black coffee"

"Okay so, when you get kidnapped--not if, when– "

"The bread of bread is bread…"

Gus

"You know when you're twelve, when you're like 'no one look at me or I'll kill myself!"

"Thirteen year olds are the meanest people in the world."

Gregory

"One feels like a duck splashing around in all this wet! And when one feels like a duck, one is happy!"

Kay (bonus)

"This is an on-fire garbage can….could be a nursery."

Sam

"None of us really know our fathers."

"Is he nice? NOOOO!"

"Brush your teeth! Now, BOOM, orange juice--that's life."

Calvin

"I always thought that uh, quicksand, was going to be a much bigger problem than it turned out to be."

"Tonight Is The Night, and How We Only Have Tonight."

Walter

"My vibe is more like 'hey, you could pour soup in my lap and I'll probably apologize to you!"

"Think about that for ten seconds and tell me you don't want to walk into the ocean."

"I look like I was just sitting in a room on a chair eating saltines for like, 28 years."

"I didn't drink water the ENTIRE time."

Barbara

"Do My Friends Hate Me, Or Do I Just Need To Go To Sleep?"

*wacks hookman killer in the head with the crutch* "Now I've thrown him off his rhythm!"

Molly

"McDonald's! McDonald's! McDonald's!"

"Was there ever even a ghost, mother, or was the little girl you saw just mE all along??"

"My parents loved us, they just didn't like us."

Edie

"You have the moral backbone of a chocolate eclair."

"Beat it, bozo!"

Sven

"My wife is a b**ch and I like her SO. Much."

"I just like old fashioned things."

#what remains of edith finch #wroef #characters as john mulaney quotes #also #there's a KRAKEN loose on a BOAT #lol

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fineillmakeaslasherblog · 10 months

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I'd like to request headcanons for whoever's you think would be the most interesting (+brahms) with a reader who has Pathological Demand Avoidance? It's a subtype of autism, I think it could be fun to write characters interacting with a reader like that. Suggesting brahms in particular bc he's a huge brat ❤

I'm actually going to be pedantic here, since Mun is both autistic and a neuroscience student, and based on the phrasing of this request, I'm guessing you don't experience PDA yourself lol. In the DSM-5, there are just three "types" of autism: level one, level two, and level three. PDA is a controversial topic for a variety of reasons, but the general consensus among professionals is that it's a behaviour pattern/profile, not a condition or sub-type. It does not appear in the DSM-5 at all. Not to mention the potential for pathologizing self-agency (see also: the controversy around ODD which I'm not touching with a ten foot pole). Anyway, here's an overview on the topic if you're interested. There's therefore uh. No way I can make everyone happy with this post. However, for these headcanons, I'm going to effectively treat it like a compulsion, so hopefully that's good enough.

Brahms Heelshire:

Alright, here's my hot take: you guys have the backbone of a chocolate eclair when it comes to this boy.

Look, I get it: massive man who can and will kill you tells you to do something, survival instinct can kick in. But like... at the very end of the movie, when Greta puts her foot down and doesn't act afraid of him, he listens to her.

This obviously isn't to say that constantly telling him no is ideal, but it really isn't going to go as badly as some would have you believe, especially if you can explain it to him.

To be honest, the last thing he needs in a relationship is his parents 2.0, so being able to tell him no is a really important skill to have regardless. His parents were afraid of him, which is why they gave into what he wanted. Being able to refuse him shows that you aren't afraid of him.

Bubba Sawyer:

Aaand now for the complete opposite. I don't think Bubba is capable of demanding anything if he tried. Like to a fault. So the only time I can foresee this even coming into play to begin with is with his brothers.

Honestly, though, you're probably still going to be fine. There will be some arguments, sure, but you're the one with the giant man with a chainsaw on your side.

Tbh Bubba is really your best bet here. Absolute sweetheart, has the patience of a saint, and can either support you or cheer you on, depending on what you need in that moment.

Like I'm not gonna romanticize compulsions or anything, but at the same time, if you're able to stand up to Drayton, even if you didn't want to, he'll still be watching with stars in his eyes. We all know this.

#god this is swinging at a wasps nest lol #i did my best to stay neutral on a controversial topic so no one come for me #headcanons #gn reader #bubba sawyer #brahms heelshire #the boy #texas chainsaw massacre #slasher x reader #slashers x reader

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just-some-random-blogger · 10 months

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Hey, so I’m considering starting to post fanfiction (I’m thinking mainly HotD) on a sideblog. Do you have any advice? Your stuff is really good AND consistent (I made the mistake of reading Unturned Stones on my lunch break, and that took me out for a few minutes, like the angst??? And the prose???And how you wrote Dream?? so thanks for that), so I figured you would be a good person to ask? No pressure though, and have a good day/night!

FIRST OF ALL OMG NONNIE IM SO EXCITED FOR YOU WHEN I READ THIS I WAS LIKE ASLKFHLASHFASFA YASSS PURR SLAY DO IT DO IT

That would be my advice. just start and write what you like and what feels right. write something that interests you, even if its weird and niche and caters to your very specific fandom needs. Dont do something just cuz you think other people will like.

this second one is not necessarily advice but a heads up. ive had fics where i loved writing it and worked really hard for it but people didn't interact with that much. ive also had fics that were just brain farts yet people ate them up like chocolate eclairs. im not gonna lie to you, its a bummer when the fics you really love dont do as well as those you might not have put as much thought or effort into, but thats the nature of fics. you need to find gratification in the writing itself and hopefully you will.

I'm honored you think my stuff is so good and consistent. Though with consistency BSJSBSHSHSB you mean characterization right? AHAHAHAH cos my updates are not lololol. If youre worried about not writing a character well, just act like what youre writing is canon. I feel like if you like a character, you'll know them well enough to be able to make the call of what they would and wouldn't do. if not, do research! We all do it. No shame no fuss. But also don't feel pressured to consume every little thing about them. Fics aren't assignments, its supposed to be fun.

Also its so funny to me that you're planning to write about hotd but you also like dream and used my fic of him as a reference. Actually its not funny its so great!!!!! I LOVE THAT YOU LOVE THAT TOO. Im glad it took you out, albeit at a wrong time i hope you enjoyed your lunch still. i was so scared no one would get it tbh 😭😭😭😭

I wish you nothing but the best darling. I'd love to get read your fics esp if theyre about daemon 👹👹👹👹

#ask #anon ask #my beloved anons

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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

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Shut Up!

Summary: request! Bucky and Y/N hate each other... or so they say.

Warnings: as Steve would say: Language!, but really it's just a bunch of fluff.

Word Count: 1798

a/n: Italics are thoughts in their heads!!

This request brought me so much joy to think about. Happy Birthday anon! Thank you so much for all the love!!! ❤️ 💕 💗 💖 💘

"BARNES!" You screamed, giving him the customary warning before throwing your least favorite knife at him.

He flung himself backward, catching the knife in midair.

Damn, that's hot. You shook the thought away, glaring at Bucky as he turned to look at you.

"Did you just throw a knife at me?" He asked, incredulous.

You rolled your eyes. "You deserved it. Plus, I warned you." You bit back.

"Y/N, you can't just throw knives at people." Steve sighed, tired of the two of you arguing all the time.

"I don't throw knives at people. Just Bucky." You said his name with disgusted expression. "And he deserved it!"

"What the hell did he do to deserve being impaled by a knife?" Sam chuckled, but only to keep the mood light.

"He wasn't impaled. I knew he would dodge it." You defended yourself, sneering at Bucky's smug grin.

"Not the point. What did he do?" Steve asked again, trying to clear the air despite it never working before.

You pulled the beanie you were wearing off your head, showing off your freshly bleached hair. It was nearly white, a stark platinum blonde contrasting your typical dark style.

"You know what they say, 'blondes have more fun'. I was just looking out for your social life." Bucky smirked, enjoying the rage.

She's so cute when she's angry. He thought as he stared at you.

Sam snorted, trying to hold in the laugh under your glare.

"How thoughtful." You quipped sarcastically, leaning in to threaten him. "I'm going to get you back for this." Your words were laced with venom, the anger palpable even in the vast gym.

"Looking forward to it! Thanks for the knife!" Bucky called as you stormed away, ignoring the thoughts lingering in his head. Not cute. Hot. So very hot when she's angry.

The next few days, Bucky heard nothing from you. He didn't think much of it, considering you were likely plotting. It wasn't until you started being uncharacteristically sweet to him that he grew nervous.

"Hey, Buck, Steve." You smiled as you walked up to him and Steve.

"Hi, Y/N." Steve greeted you warmly, glad to see you at least acting cordial after the stunt Bucky pulled.

"Hi..." Bucky hesitated, unsure of what you were playing at.

He's so adorable when he's nervous. You shook your head, getting back on track.

"I brought you some drinks!" You excitedly exclaimed, handing the drink carrier to Steve since Bucky seemed frozen in place. "Protein smoothie for Steve, chocolate milkshake for Bucky."

You walked away without another word, throwing a thumbs up to accept Steve's thanks.

Steve happily drank his smoothie, enjoying the energy boost. Bucky just stared at the milkshake before throwing the entire thing away.

"Buck! Don't be a jerk. She bought that for you." Steve huffed, annoyed with his friend's childish behavior.

"I can't trust anything she gives me unless I saw it being made." He shrugged as if it was obvious.

"Jerk, she's not going to poison you." Steve rolled his eyes.

"You don't know that." Bucky shook his head, walking into the kitchen. The idea of a milkshake made him hungry.

The next day, you were back with more treats. This time a cinnamon roll for Steve, something he said was his guilty pleasure, and a chocolate eclair for Bucky. You were grinning ear to ear as Steve thanked you profusely.

She's so adorable when she's this happy.

Once again, Bucky threw it away, ignoring the glare Steve shot his way.

The next days followed the same pattern. You would seek out Bucky and Steve, giving each of them some snack, dessert, or drink. Bucky threw it away every single time, not trusting your motives.

You didn't break pattern for a solid week, watching as Steve grew increasingly annoyed with Bucky throwing away all of your treats.

"I made cookies!" You walked into the living room where everyone was enjoying movie night. You handed out cookies to every member of the team, saving Bucky for last.

As you walked back into the kitchen to return the platter, you heard Steve whisper yell at Bucky.

"Just eat the cookie." Steve glared, thinking you would be upset if you saw him through it away.

"I can't! What if she did something to it?" Bucky whispered right back.

"Buck! She gave one to everyone! You really think she would purposefully keep track of one specific cookie just to get you back?" Steve rolled his eyes, completely fed up with the situation.

"Yes! I really do!" Bucky defended.

"Eat the damn cookie." Steve spoke between his teeth, elbowing him in the side.

"Fine." Bucky hesitated in bringing the cookie up to his mouth, but ultimately gave in.

As soon as he swallowed the cookie, he knew something was off. His whole body felt tingly, but there was a pleasant warmth to it.

A sudden bright flash of light had you walking back into the room, watching as Bucky turned into a cat.

"What the hell..." Sam turned, glancing between the small white kitten and Steve's shocked expression.

He's cuter as a person. You couldn't stop the thought from popping into your head, causing you to chuckle.

Steve suddenly whipped his head to you.

"Y/N. What did you do?" He sighed, exasperated but a little impressed.

A small meow followed the question, earning various "awws" from the entire room.

"I turned him into a cat." You shrugged nonchalantly, pretending this was a normal occurrence.

"Did everything you brought him this week have the power to do... that?" He gestured to Bucky, who hissed at Steve as if to say I told you so.

"Nope." You shook your head, laughing as Bucky wobbled across the couch, not used to how it felt to move as a feline. "I knew he would think I did something to them, so I didn't. Just plain old snacks."

Damn, she is so fucking smart. Bucky's thoughts came out as a purr, startling the room.

"How long is tinman stuck as a cat?" Tony laughed, enjoying the sight.

"Just a few hours. Long enough to think about why he deserves this." You gestured to your hair.

"Can we take pictures of him in cute cat outfits?" Nat questioned, always up for blackmail material.

You pulled a shopping bag out from behind you, pulling a series of Avenger themes costumes.

"I'm one step ahead of you." You grinned devilishly, swiftly scooping Bucky up from off the couch.

"You're evil." Bucky glared at you as soon as he turned back into a human.

"You deserved it. Plus, you were so cute as a little kitten." You pouted.

That pout is doing things to me. Bucky shook his head, trying to maintain the angry facade. He ran his hands through his hair, causing your own thoughts to spiral.

What I would give to run my hands through his hair when he wasn't a cat.

"You turned me into a cat!" He yelled, chasing you down the hall back to the living room.

"You died my hair platinum fucking blonde!" You screamed right back, turning on him once you made it to the end of the hallway.

"I can't stand you." Bucky spat, while simultaneously thinking if only she wanted to touch me not as a cat.

"Yeah, well newsflash! I can't stand you either." You glared right back.

The team watched on with amused expressions.

"Who wants to see pictures of kitty Barnes in cat costumes?" You turned to the room, a wide grin adorning your lips. Without waiting for an answer, you displayed your phone on the TV screen.

He is so damn cute. Cat or no cat. You laughed as you swiped through the pictures.

Bucky tried to grab the phone from you, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of enjoying this too much.

Her laugh is like music.

"Oh my god! Shut up!" Wanda suddenly stood up, pointing at the both of you. "You two pretend to hate each other so much, but your thoughts tell different stories."

Your mouth dropped open, shocked at both Wanda's volume and words.

Bucky wore a similar expression, eyes wide and heart beating fast.

"Wanda, you read my mind?" You tried to deflect the attention.

"No. You were just thinking so damn loud it involuntarily popped into my head." She grinned, trying to impersonate your voice as she quoted your thoughts

"Damn, that's hot. He's so adorable when he's nervous. He's cuter as a person. What I wouldn't give to run my hands through his hair when he wasn't a cat. He is so damn cute. Cat or no cat."

"And those are just from the past week and a half!" She yelled at you.

Bucky grinned smugly, forgetting Wanda also heard his thoughts. "Oh, doll. Why didn't you just say you cared?" He asked in fake sympathy.

You glared at him, ready to fight again when Wanda switched focus.

"Don't start with me Barnes. You think just as loudly!" Her voice took on an exaggerated depth as she impersonated Bucky, sighing dramatically between sentences.

"She's so cute when she's angry. Not cute. Hot. So very hot when she's angry. She's so adorable when she's this happy. Damn, she is so fucking smart. That pout is doing things to me. If only she wanted to touch me not as a cat. Her laugh is like music."

"I can't take it anymore! The two of you are driving me insane." She huffed, barging out of the room in an effort to hear nothing but peace and quiet.

Everyone else quickly followed, figuring the two of you could use a minute to talk.

"You think I'm hot." Bucky stated the fact. "That's embarrassing." He grinned, slowly walking closer to you.

"Not as embarrassing you thinking I'm smart." You countered, a matching grin on your face.

"You want to run your hands through my hair." He smirked, placing his hands on your waist.

"My laugh is like music to your ears." You leaned closer.

"Just kiss already!" Sam shouted from the hallway, but the two of you were in your own world.

"Do you want to get dinner with me? Tomorrow?" Bucky asked, his forehead pressed to yours.

"I'd like that." You smiled back.

The two of you moved in tandem, pressing your lips together, fighting for dominance of the kiss.

You pulled back, breathless and needing air. "I hope you know I'm not deleting the pictures of you as a cat."

"I wouldn't think so." Bucky chuckled, pressing another quick kiss to your lips.

"You know what this means?" He asked, an eyebrow raised.

You grinned conspiratorially while nodding. "We can team up on Wilson!"

"My thoughts exactly." He smiled, pulling you into another breathtaking kiss.

Permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner @jesuswasnotawhiteman

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barens x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes #wanda maximoff #avengers x reader #marvel fic #mcu fic

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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

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masterpost • main masterlist • taglist & faq

Introductory prologue. The main pairing will be established ironstrange x reader. This story will be rated explicit, have some canon-typical violence and language. The 'fuck' harvest is bountiful this time of the year. Updates - irregular so far, I'm posting it as I go.

No y/n, no "you", no name - nickname only, no reader description - race/age/body type neutral, she/her pronouns. Please leave a comment if you spot a stray 'blushing' or the likes, I write as it flows and sometimes miss those words when I proofread. I try to be inclusive of all my readers.

"Your total is twelve dollars, seventeen cents," I rattled off on autopilot, casting a glance at the cash register and plastering an automatic smile onto my face. The pleasant expression was frozen on it, stuck like glue, despite the news I had received earlier in the day. "Thank you, have a nice day," I doubted the customer actually heard my words.

One of those business-types, wearing a tailored two-piece, with a Bluetooth headset attached to their ear and brain always a mile away, our little coffee shop a mild interruption in their daily routine of making more and more money. "Hello, how can I help you?" I addressed the next customer, my eyes unseeing, gliding over their face and to the storefront where I noticed we were running low on eclairs and carrot cake.

"Hey, Starlight," the woman's voice was familiar, tone soothing, as I snapped my eyes to meet a pair of reddish-brown ones, staring at me with concern. "The usual," our city's very own superhero; Wanda Maximoff stood before me with her head curiously tilted to the side and her brother hovering behind her, examining the assortment of various cakes on display. "Long day?"

"You have no idea," I sighed, sending off the organic, single-use cups with scribbles off to Dave, our barista. Wanda's order was large, usually about ten or twelve coffees and quite a few treats, so I donned on some nitrile gloves to package the treats while Dave handled the drinks with practiced ease. I admired his stoicism. "Might be seeing a bit less of me," the woman's eyebrows rose in displeasure at my admission.

"Tony won't be happy," Wanda mumbled, side-eyeing the backdoor behind which my boss usually resided during the day. "You got fired?" The words attracted the attention of her brother. Pietro was immediately at her side, joining into the concerned staring.

"Nope," I popped the 'p', methodically shoving the food in its packaging. "The café is expanding hours and our shifts are being split now. Jeremy is dead set on me working the graveyard shift, so I'll be here six AM to two PM," I couldn't help the sigh that left my lips.

My boss, Jeremy, had opened his boulangerie little over two years ago, and as he had predicted, it set off almost immediately. The place was located almost in the heart of the dozen corporate sky-rises full of busy, wealthy people who liked their things to be both instant and luxurious. Jeremy had fit right in with the law sharks and business vultures, if you ask me, with his penchant for demanding the impossible.

I was expecting an increase in work hours, I wasn't going to lie - our little cafe was busy nearly all the time it was open - but the fact that he chose to split a day's shift came as a punch to the gut. Like most service staff, I made most of my money from the tips, and they and they only were the only reason I stayed in a place with a shrew for a boss and the worst health insurance in the area. Thankfully, the rich businessmen from local offices didn't count their money and left me more than generous tips.

The coffee machine beeped for the last time as Dave passed me the three cupholders before I carefully bagged them, arranging the treats on top. I saw Wanda lick her lips at the aromas coming from the paper bag before Pietro snatched them out of my grasp. I rattled off the total, catching Wanda's eye as she passed me several twenty dollar bills, waving off my attempt to return the change.

"Penny for your wandering thoughts?" She smiled warmly as I chuckled at the question I've grown to expect with a quiet sort of joy.

The first time she'd wandered in, soaking wet from the rain and looking as lost as a child in a mall, ten minutes before closing time, I was reading my book right at the counter as I waited for the coffee machine to clean itself. I hadn't even noticed the quiet woman until her words startled me out of the book-induced trance and I shamefully had to ask her to repeat herself, hastily shoving my book under the counter. She smiled at me, shyly, and asked me about my reading instead of rattling an order for one of the sickly sweet caffeine concoctions female customers seemed to love. And she returned in a few days, asking the same question after taking a careful look at my face.

"And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about." I took a careful moment to recall a paragraph from the book I was currently reading, Murakami's 'Kafka on the Shore'. It seemed fitting, with all that had been going on in my life recently. I was still caught in the middle of the storm, unsure if I'd make it out but hoping for it nonetheless.

"That's beautiful," Pietro smiled at me, the tips of his silver hair reflecting the lights of the cafe's baroque style chandeliers. I barely managed to smile at him as he was already speeding off, the entrance door banging shut behind a blur of white and blue. Each time he did that, I couldn't help but wonder how he managed to not spill any of the hot beverages.

"Because it's true," Wanda added with a comforting smile. I nodded in agreement, hoping some of her positive attitude would dissipate the sense of doom I'd been lugging around all day. She departed, taking the sense of comfort with her, as I caught the tail end of something shouted in Sokovian - something that sounded exactly in place, coming from one disgruntled sibling to another.

When the residents of the nearby Stark tower began frequenting my workplace, I barely had the composure to stifle my quiet fangirling to socially acceptable levels. Not long after the Scarlet Witch turned a semi-regular, she started bringing her colleagues with her - Hawkeye at first, who was a decent, normal dude; he looked like an exasperated dad and Pietro appeared every thing the rambunctious son, as the younger man peppered the older man with questions about the cakes on our display.

They all had fancy names, but at the bottom of it, a chocolate cake was a chocolate cake. That much I told them, with a snort, earning myself a lopsided grin and a generous tip as I patiently listed off the more commonly used, simplified designations for the twins as the knowledge of them being European immigrants crossed my mind.

After Hawkeye came the Black Widow, and then Captain America with a sunny smile and his moody boyfriend in tow. While Bucky Barnes' expression was generally sour, the man had a wicked sweet tooth, shoveling frosted, glazed treats at the rate of a competitive eater. Both men were extremely polite if not very chatty and tipped well.

Tony Stark himself - well, he was a special one. His sense of humour trailed on the fine line of obscene, oftentimes raising the eyebrows of nearby people standing in line. I wasn't born yesterday, either: years of customer service work left me with little-to-no surprise regarding overzealous men and I could quip back equally as sharply, just slightly south of Tony's own jokes. He never overstepped, however, and with time, I developed a quiet appreciation for our small talks.

Which did brighten up my day, if only a little. "A little birdy told me your boss is being a douchebag. Want me to clean up that muck?" Tony was, as usual, wearing a bespoke suit and sunglasses, which he'd pushed up to his forehead as he frivolously leaned on the counter after placing his order.

I sighed, remembering Wanda's words. I didn't know what to expect from the eccentric billionaire; last of all, I didn't want any handouts. I'd started a search for a second part-time job the very day I got told my pay would be essentially cut in half. "No need, Mr. Stark, I'm gonna be fine and dandy," I replied with a smile that I was sure didn't really reach my eyes. "We'll still be able to resume our nice chit-chat at brunch on Saturdays," I winked, hoping to keep up the usual light atmosphere of our banter.

"I told you to call me Tony!" He exclaimed, like always, shaking his head and glaring at the back door. "Yeah, no," the man had absolutely no chill. "I'll still sic the IRS on him," the last part was said quietly. Mr. Stark often spoke to himself.

I laughed at the rich-kid, spoilt way he was acting. A grown man with an attitude of a teenager and a sweet tooth to match one - except for his coffee. That was always the strongest, blackest one we had on hand. I hadn't even heard of a triple espresso until Mr. Stark had waltzed in, skipping the line and filling the air around him with the smells of cologne that smelled like money, motor oil, iron and soot.

The moment I opened my e-mail at home, I felt my gloomy mood worsen, Mr. Stark's words echoing in my head. I'd sent my resumes to two dozen places and only a handful even bothered to reply - all preemptive rejections, there weren't businesses needing a part-time employee with a useless degree, who could only work evenings. Except bars, but they required some sort of certificate for bartenders and lots and lots of bare skin for waitresses. I tried to steer away from that part of the industry as much as I could, saving it as a last resort option.

It had come down to browsing Craigslist as I ate my way through a carton of cheap take-out, too exhausted to cook and too anxious to go out to the nearby bodega after 9 PM. One more negative side of working late shift - making my way home in the dead of the night in NYC and hoping Spider-Man was hanging out nearby should a thug decide on me to be their next victim. The joys of big city life.

As the column of various ads stared at me with various suspicious offers to make quick money, ads for 'young, sociable women' and I stared back at them in muted disgust. The 'looking for a job' section was much more sensible with the few ads I'd clicked on out of curiosity depicting people seemingly in a similar situation as me - short on money but not desperate enough to surrender their dignity to corporate greed. The decision was momentary - I'd started typing and hit the post button before I was through with my food, slapping my old laptop shut as soon as the as posted.

Hopefully, the creeps will stay away. The next couple of days stretched out slowly as I got up at the crack of dawn to open the shop, served the early birds whilst sipping my own matcha latte and clocked out not a second later than 2PM, taking home half the usual amount of tips. My e-mail remained as silent as ever, only a few suspicious replies to my ad, texts that I didn't even bother replying to. Human trafficking and pyramid schemes, was that all that NYC had to offer?

Apparently, not. Around 6PM, my phone dinged as a notification popped up and I scrambled to read it - all too aware of the upcoming rent day, and was pleasantly surprised with the contents of the e-mail, re-reading it several times to make sure there weren't any hidden stones under the water. I replied with my phone number, not expecting it to ring within minutes of hitting the send button.

"Hello?"

"Hi, we just corresponded," the voice on the other side was feminine but slightly rough, as if it's owner spent days chain-smoking. "I would like to invite you for a small interview, if you wouldn't mind."

I chewed on my lip in contemplation. "Could I ask you some questions first?" The levels of anxiety, I thought, were reasonable in the situation. It mutely gnawed at my chest.

"Sure," the woman agreed amicably. "My name is Odette, by the way," she mentioned off-handedly, the name fitting her voice in a strange way.

"Uh, well," I stammered. "You mentioned it's a herbal medicine shop, you're not selling weed under the counter, are you?" I voiced my worries meekly, hoping for an honest answer.

The woman laughed, a sharp, terse sound. "No, dear, I do not sell or possess anything illegal. I merely offer supplies for the locals that prefer natural, alternative medicine." She sounded jovial.

"Like - um, healing crystals?" I vaguely remembered reading about them on the internet, or seeing them in a YouTube video, perhaps.

"Yes, we sell those, too," her tone grew more joyful at the mention of the shiny rocks. I didn't think that they actually cured anything, to be honest, however I was willing to give it some credit - the placebo effect was a scientific fact. Whatever floats your boat, I guess.

"Okay then," I chuckled nervously. "I'm free tomorrow after 3 PM."

"Grand. The shop is open until 10 PM, just say your name at the counter and I'll be right with you."

As soon as I hung up, relief and curiosity and trepidation blossomed within me, imagination unhelpfully supplying images of human trafficking documentaries, basements with chains and other, less horrifying but still unusual things. The pep talk over a wine glass that I had was necessary: it was a herbal shop, for fuck's sake. Worst case, I'm going to work with Karens who think the Earth is flat and quartz cures cancer. I could even get a funny story or two out of those, something to share with Bucky or Wanda in lieu of the usual book quotes I entertain them with.

The day went by smoothly, the café no more and no less busy than usual so after a brief detour back home to put on something that didn't smell like coffee grounds and yeast: comfortable pants and a soft sweater, something that would keep me warm but would not unnecessarily restrict any movement. My good luck charm, a large oval necklace with a shiny gold star in the middle, hung heavily around my neck, providing quiet comfort.

Heart thudding in my chest, I approached the old-style, inconspicuous building, double-checking the address before opening the old, heavy wooden door right at the corner of the building. It was like a movie scene, in a way - the day was overcast, meager sun rays shining through the lead curtain of clouds, the streets were clear and few honks rung out in the far end of block, sending a flock of pigeons into a lazy scatter over the slanted roof. The door creaked softly, the handle cold under my touch, instantly filling my nose with a strong smell of herbs so plentiful, I could not distinguish one from another.

Inside didn't look any less intriguing: the décor was outdated but somehow fitting and homely, high wooden shelves stocked with glass jars and wooden boxes with neatly placed labels on them. The counter was empty - save for a large, golden bell, which I timidly pressed.

The woman who emerged from behind the worn cotton curtains behind the counter most certainly was impressive. Tall and broad, with dark eyebrows and even darker eyes, she critically surveyed me for a moment, making me shiver under her gaze - and then she smiled, revealing rows of pearly white teeth and instantaneously losing the imposing aura around her.

"Um, hi- I'm-" I didn't get to finish my nervous stammering.

She interrupted me with a careless wave of her hand. "Here for the interview. Yes. Welcome, Star," her eyes briefly fell on my necklace while I struggled to swallow the unease.

I hadn't told her my nickname - to be honest, these days, I heard it more often than my given name. People quickly took notice of my love of star-patterned items and teased me relentlessly over it, losing heat only when I calmly went along with it, too used to hearing the same jokes since my early childhood.

Odette motioned me over, parting the curtains to reveal a tiny, but tastefully decorated hall with two doors on each side and a staircase at the far end of it. I followed her into the room on the left, which turned out to be a peculiar sort of office. I thought I noticed an Ouija board in there but wisely kept my mouth shut.

"I live on the floor above the shop so don't go throwing any parties while you're on the job," she remarked playfully, gesturing to a pot of tea. "It's peppermint, does wonders for calming one's demeanor," the gesture was sweet - and very telling.

I wondered if I looked as spooked as I felt. After all, it didn't seem like Odette and her business were fishy in any way, and the décor and atmosphere were quite... Appealing, in a way. Something magical, something belonging in Europe or on a high schooler's Pinterest board. I sipped my tea in-between questions, thinking how maybe, I could actually grow accustomed to this place.

The shopkeeper acted as if I'd already accepted the job and I - well, it's not like I had any other options waiting for me. The pay was more than I expected it to be, for such a small bodega and a part-time shift, and it would help me cover my bills with enough to spare. The customers were said to be mostly regular and undemanding, with a few rare exceptions, and should I need assistance, the owner was always a call and a floor away.

With a considerably lighter heart, I left to pad the damp sidewalk back towards my house. Thankfully, my new workplace was only a short walk away.

The tag list is open until the story is finished. Please use the 'taglist' Google form to request (top of the fic, clickable link).

@mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites

#bun writes #practical alchemy #ironstrange x reader #tony stark x reader x stephen strange #tony stark x reader #stephen strange x reader #tony stark fanfiction #stephen strange fanfiction

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urlocal-lgt-rep · 6 years

Text

Be my Valentine? Pt 2

Pairing- Awkward! Calum and Y/N

Guess this is going to be 3 parts...

Everyone wakes up early that morning besides you. You kept trying to fall back asleep every time you woke up because you wanted to continue your dream of an ice cream and a sunset boy, but you finally decided to get up and make a little magic in Ashton’s room.

You grabbed a bag you had hidden in Ash’s room long ago for a previous prank but forgotten about. As you lay the contents out, you knew this was going to make him pissed-but you still decided to do it. You covered all of the posters in his room, which there were a lot, with new and improved posters. That's right, Viagra and Hello Kitty posters now covered the walls of Ashton’s room.

As you walked out and acting as if nothing happened, you saw Mikey eating a pack of Oreos. Yes, that probably wasn't the best breakfast choice, but you knew you wanted them anyway.

“What? You want an Oreo? Sorry, this just so happens to be my last one, Y/N,” Michael laughed, but not for long because you ran towards him and the Oreo he has in his hand. His arm was raised so you couldn't reach it. He tried to run away but realized there was a chair behind him, yet instead of stopping, he thought it was a brilliant idea to try and flip over the chair. You heard an “Holy fuck!” from Michael as you and Luke started to cry of laughter.

As you ran over to Michael to take the Oreo- you mean, make sure he was okay- you saw him put it in his mouth before you could take it.

“Michael Clifford, you son of a-" just as you were about to curse him out, Calum’s deep, groggy voice interrupted you.

“We have another pack, Y/N,” there was no emotion in his voice, and he didn't even bother looking at you as he grabbed the Oreos for you.

“It's- it’s okay, I'll just have something else…” your voice trailed off as you wondered where this attitude was coming from. He had been awake for hours, so it couldn't have been that he wasn't a morning person.

Calum wasn't exactly sure why he was acting this way either. He had enjoyed talking to you a lot yesterday, but he couldn't bring himself to show it. He couldn't be mean to you either, so he entire manner just came across and douchey. That didn't stop him from taking glances at Y/N every now and then-something he didn't know why he wanted to do so bad, but he couldn't resist.

He saw her with an amused grin on her face as Ashton walked towards his room, and then Calum remembered that she was planning on getting him back.

Ashton opened the door to his room and screamed, “What the literal fuck Y/N!”

As the you and the rest of the boys gathered around his room, there was laughter all around. You even swore there was a slight smile from Calum as he peeked into Ash’s room, and the memory of his hearty laugh from the night before filled your mind. You knew you needed to hear it again today even if it was the last thing you did.

“Hey, losers! Wanna go to the club tonight?” you pitched the idea of drinking partly because you knew the boys would love it, but mostly because you wanted to take your mind off of Calum for a damn minute. You didn't know why he was suddenly all you could think about, and you weren't sure how much you liked it . He was your friend, after all, and nothing more.

Of course the boys agreed, but Calum decided that he wasn't going to drink. He told everyone it was because he was going to be their driver, but he knew that if he got drunk he might try to hook up with some girl, or even worse, Y/N. He did not want to explain to Ashton why he was being so handsy with Ash’s almost-sister.

It wasn't like he hadn't gotten drunk around Y/N before, but he didn't trust himself this time. He wasn't sure why, but he knew something was different. He thought about her more than usual now-not that he thought about her on a regular basis or anything….

You decided to try your best to let Calum be for the night. You weren't going to think about him or talk to him- this was your night to be free of any men hanging around your mind. The best way to start that, you decided, was to get dressed up. Feeling a bit more beautiful never hurt anyone, right? That meant that you had to go home, so you planned a time with the groaning boys who just wanted to leave now.

When you finally arrived back at the boys’ house, you were greeted by a whistle from Luke and a glare from Ashton who pulled you aside.

“What's going on Y/N? Why are you so dressed up? Guys will be staring at you all night!” he interrogated.

“And I'm trusting you to punch them when they get they do. I'm just looking for a little fun, Ash,” reassuring Ash was hard, but you knew it was important if you wanted him to leave you alone for the night.

Calum couldn't bare to look at you. He had expected you to look nice, because -well- you always did. It's not like he had a crush on you or anything, but rather that he knew when to admit that someone was attractive, which you were. But tonight you had dressed up more than usual, and Calum hadn’t been prepared. Jesus, how was he going to be able to look away from you all night? He wanted to admire you, but in a friendly way because he appreciated your friendship and liked to see how confident his friend was.

Upon arrival, everyone who was drinking took a couple shots and then split up to do their thing. Michael was being social, Luke was dancing with a girl, and you were pretty sure Ashton had a group of girls and even a guy or two around him who he was flirti- you mean, entertaining with his charms. Calum looked to be scrolling through Twitter on his phone, and even though you had planned not to talk to him, you were drunk and sober-Y/N didn't matter right now.

“Heeeey Cal! Whatcha doin’ babe?” Sober you was definitely going to regret this.

“Uh-um are you- are you okay Y/N?” Calum wasn't expecting you to come up to him. He knew you could handle your alcohol pretty well, so he had never seen you drunk before. You must've had a lot more than a couple shots.

“I'm feeling great, babe, but you need to loosen up. Stop being Mr. Grumpy-pants!” Your pouty face made Calum’s cheeks turn even redder. Why were you calling him babe? Why didn't it make him mad?

“Um- Y/N. I think- I think that you're pretty drunk right now… do you want me to bring you home?” he couldn't stop the struggle he was having to get his words out. This wasn't normal; he was a songwriter, he was supposed to know what to say.

“Home? Why would I want to go- ‘scuse me, Cal-" you broke off your sentence by running in the bathroom and throwing up in the first stall. You starting sniffling and a couple stray tears ran down your face. “Cal, cam you take me home?”

“Oh, god. Of course! Here, take my hand,” He offered his hand to you so you could steady yourself, but you still toppled over and directly into Calum’s arms.

“Guess I'll- I guess I'll just carry you then…” Calum was completely flustered by the drunk, emotional you that was in front of him, but he knew he had to suck it up for you. He picked you up bridal style as you giggled and walked you across the parking lot.

“Ash!” you cried out in worry.

“He'll be fine, Y/N. I told them to take an Uber. He's not that- he's not very drunk.” Calum couldn't help but feel something at the thought of you being absolutely hammered and still worrying about your best friend.

As Cal was driving you home, you couldn't help but ramble on and on about everything that came to mind. “Calummm! Why are you so grumpy-grumpy? You were so happy and cute yesterday!”

Calum immediately felt a tingle in his chest and heat on his cheeks. Was I just called cute by Y/N? Sure, the fans called him that sometimes, but never Y/N. It made him feel…special. God, what was he thinking?! He sounded like a schoolgirl with a crush...not that he had a crush or anything of course! Why would he have a crush on Y/N? Sure, she's funny and beautiful and cares for others and likes songwriting… But she's also Ash’s little sister! That's just weird.

“I- I don't know?” was all Calum could muster.

“What? Are you not sure? Or is the sexy Calum Hood at a loss for words?” Definitely going to regret this.

Calum was freaking out inside. Sexy? “I guess I am, Y/N. At a loss for words that is. Not sexy. I wasn't calling myself sexy or anything-that's just weird. Not that you're weird for thinking that! Many fans think that about me too. Wait, that sounds worse. I swear I'm not a narcissist!”

You started to giggle uncontrollably at his flustered ramblings. “Cal! You're so fucking adorable. God, do I have such a crush on you!”

That was it. Calum Hood was official broken. He was a mess of stuttering and blushing and thank God we just got to your house because any longer and I would've had to respond to that.

“Alright, time for you to go inside,” he said, leading you to your room. Calum got some pajamas for you, and after you got dressed he ran you a bath. While you were getting clean, Cal even put your throw-up clothes in the wash.

Then came the hard part- getting you to lay down. For someone who couldn't walk at the moment, you were surprisingly energetic. Eventually, Cal had to pick you, put you in bed, and tuck you in.

“Okay, Y/N, time for you to go to bed and for me to go home. If you need anything, just-"

“But I want you to stay!” you whined. “Please? Can you sing me that song you were singing last night? With the gold and stuff?”

“I uh- you heard that?” -you nodded- “Sure, I guess.”

"I can take you out, oh oh

We can kill some time, stay home

Throw balloons, teddy bears, and the chocolate eclairs away

Got nothing but love for you, fall more in love everyday

Valentine"

#calum 5sos #luke 5sos #5 seconds of summer #5sos funny #5sos #5sos lockscreen #5sos wallpaper #michael 5sos #michael clifford #ashton 5sos #ashton irwin #luke hemmings #5sos fic #5sos fluff #5sos fanfic #5sos fam #BmV

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