#and this will seem normal to you
YOUR M’BENGA GIVES ME LIFE!!!!! I love that man sm we needed more of him in TOS!!! Im just imagining him poking his head through sickbay and like… seeing the craziness happening and just quietly noping out of the way hahahaah!! As always, amazing art 😍😍
LITERALLY you know m'benga is bones' one friend who is so much cooler than all of his other friends. like, bones is mortified whenever m'benga- very calm, normal man- catches him helping Jim and Spock detangle themselves from whatever newest embarrassingly stupid injury they got. bones is just like "please theyre not as stupid as they seem i promise" and m'benga is watching jim eat another plant hes certainly allergic to like "i'll take your word for it"
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Random domestic headcanons: Bakugou Katsuki
After moving in with him you watched him go through a ridiculous amount of toothbrushes. So eventually you bought him an electric toothbrush that beeps when he puts too put pressure on his gums and he hates it.
Katsuki is not a morning person, he is simply strict with his routine and refuses to stray from it. He is especially sensitive in the mornings, everything seems much louder than normal.
Katsuki suffers with sensory overload, which can explain some of his sudden outbursts. His home was always loud growing up so he appreciates that you make an effort to keep his new home with you a relaxing space for him.
You know the phrase “happy wife happy life”? Yeah, in this case Katsuki is the wife.
After patrol he has stiff shoulders because of the strength of his explosions so he goes to physio once a week. In UA when he was creating new moves there were actually a few occasions that his shoulder dislocated from the force of it. Absolutely melts when you massage them for him.
You were baffled when you learnt that Katsuki has perfect skin when all he does is wash his face with cool water before bed. Now though he enjoys joining you during your night time routine before bed, always scrunches his nose up at your products telling you “you don’t need any of this shit” but then holds back any stray hairs as you apply it to yourself.
He denies it in interviews but he does own his friends hero merch. He mostly likes to buy the comfortable stuff, like their hoodies or pyjama pants to wear at home away from the public eye. Pretty loyal and supportive of his old classmates, keeps an eye on all their rankings and never forgets to congratulate them in his own way if they move up. “It was inevitable that you would overtake that shithead”
He’s very particular about how and where the plates and cutlery are placed in the cupboards. Will appreciate it if you memorise where he likes things to be kept, if you don’t it does get under his skin a little but he won’t yell he’ll just huff and correct it.
Preps vegetables as soon as he buys them. same day he gets them he will wash and cut them up and put them into labelled glass jars to cut down cooking time when he’s rushing.
Don’t even try to enter the kitchen when this man is in there, he hates it and no he does not want you to help him with cooking. The kitchen is where he decompresses and if someone is in there at the same time as him he kind of feels like a cat with its back arched and hair standing on end. You can watch him from the doorway and tell him how hot he looks when he’s cooking for you, and he might call you in sometimes to taste something, but that is it.
Forget meal plans, this man is all about outfit plans. Stands at his wardrobe every Sunday evening and thinks about what he wants to wear each day of the coming week especially if he’s going to be in his civvies. Katsuki absolutely loves to coordinate your outfits together, too, and you’ve been voted best dressed couple multiple times.
Despite his nagging and grumpiness this man loves taking care of you. He loves cutting fruit up for you into little slices and hand feeding you. Loves washing and drying your hair for you. Takes your bag from you and carries it despite your protests. Holds doors open for you. Checks your seatbelt buckle when you’re in the car before he turns on the engine.
Breakfast in bed on birthdays or anniversaries or whatever, just does not exist in the bakugou household. Crumbs in the sheets? Do you have a death wish?
You have a routine with him in which you massage aloe gel into his hands and forearms after every patrol because his hands are tender from using his quirk through the day.
He has a set day every month for deep cleaning the entire apartment and you are not allowed to get out of helping.
Speaking of being hygienic, he always wipes down a surface right after he has used it. Always washes a plate or a mug after he’s finished with it. The sentence “I’ll let it soak for a while” doesn’t exist to this man. If you dare to place a cup on his coffee table without a coaster - I hope you know where the fire exit is.
Katsuki hates socks and underwear, he thinks they feel suffocating. Once he’s home he’s bare foot and commando in loose fitted clothing. He also sleeps naked most nights.
He loves skinship and he loves holding you, finds the weight of you laid on top of him to be incredibly comforting. But when it’s time to sleep you have to vacate to your side of the bed.
Subtitles on everything he watches. It’s a habit from when he was young, he always loved consuming western media (hero documentaries etc) so now he just leaves them on all the time even for Japanese shows.
When he’s in a particularly good mood you’ll know because he’s probably humming a song out loud somewhere in the apartment. Wraps his arms around you from behind and sways you side to side in time with the beat.
Is play fighting a love language? Because play fights happen a lot. Even if he’s in a bad mood and warns you to stop poking him he will suddenly grab your hands and roll you off the sofa with his body weight. You end up in a pile with your thighs around his neck in an attempted ‘choke hold’ but he easily pulls your legs open, laughing unabashedly. He has never hurt you and is always exercising restraint, he knows this isn’t sparring, he just finds it so cute and amusing when you try to kick him off. Has never and will never let you win.
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the first time you made me laugh
Jumin X reader. For @goddess-shattering-star 💕
You sit on the pristine leather couch in the middle of the spacious, sunlit room and consider the sound of your own voice: stiff and strange, too loud and too sharp and—as far as you can tell—horribly out of place.
Your bare feet are tucked up under your body and your hands are clasped in your lap. You’re a funny little pretzel, you think: all tied up in knots (and tongue-tied, too—twisted and turned inside out). You can’t seem to remember how it is that you normally use your limbs.
He watches you with an unreadable look in his eyes and you wonder if he feels the same way.
“So,” he says. He’s perched on a chair opposite you with his legs crossed in front of him—like he, too, isn’t sure how he’s supposed to act.
“So,” you say back. Over the phone, speaking to him felt as natural as falling into bed at the end of a long day—but now you are in his home, and you’re looking into his fathomless eyes, and you’re suddenly aware that you hardly know him at all.
“I’ll order food for us,” he says slowly, rising from his chair (and you suspect it’s because he wants to give himself a task). “Anything you’d like.”
You watch him instead of answering. He crosses the living room with a sort of purposeful stride, and it’s easy to imagine the way crowds must part for him when he’s out in the world. The air around him vibrates; he’s got presence and power—and yet you get the sense that he’s a man who never feels comfortable (not even in his own home).
“What do you like to eat?” he asks—and it’s such an innocuous question, but it only serves to heighten the strangeness. Just this morning, you’d listened to his voice over the phone as you’d made your coffee and thought that you knew him better than anyone; now, he’s standing before you, and the gaps in your knowledge of one another are glaringly obvious.
“Oh,” you tell him. “Anything.”
The truth is that you can’t even begin to think about food. He’s on the edge of the living room and kitchen now, his phone in his hand; you look at him and feel as if he’s in another world entirely. There’s a sort of solidness in the air between you; you wonder what would happen if you tried to break it.
“Anything?” He looks up at you, his eyes sharp. “You don’t need to be so agreeable when you’re with me.”
Ah, and this reminds you of the way he spoke to you on the phone: sweet and low, like he was whispering in your ear. You feel a fleeting and irrepressible urge to reach out and touch him.
But you haven’t touched yet. Not even once.
“I don’t think I’m being agreeable,” you say. You unfurl yourself from the couch and go to his side, leaning on the counter next to him. His eyes widen just a fraction; he probably thinks you don’t see it, but you do.
You can’t help but see him.
You look him up and down, smiling when you notice that his tie is just the tiniest bit crooked. This is unlike him, you think—but nothing today has been ordinary.
It would be so easy, you think, just to reach out and—
He opens his mouth to speak but closes it again when he sees your fingers inching toward him (and now that he’s noticed, it’s too late to stop). You grit your teeth and look into his startled face and push the knot of his tie straight with your fingertips.
His breath hitches and pins and needles shoot up your spine.
It’s a ghost of a touch, but it’s something.
“What are you doing?” he mutters. You’ve already pulled back, but you can still feel your fingers tingling.
“Your tie was crooked,” you say. “But why are you wearing a tie?”
Jumin looks at you like he doesn’t understand.
“I always wear a tie.”
“But you’re…” You gesture vaguely at the living room but find you can’t finish the sentence. You’re at home, you want to say—but you don’t really think there’s anything homey about his sparsely furnished, professionally decorated living room.
Jumin shakes his magnificent head, his expression unreadable.
“If I don’t wear a tie,” he says, “then how will I know who I am?”
You look at him: perfect and neat in his cleanly-pressed suited. You look at the single empty cup that someone—probably one of his staff—has left on the counter to make the room appear more lived-in. You look directly into his dark eyes and then you see it.
“Jumin,” you say. “You’re—”
You press a hand to your mouth to stifle your laughter. In spite of his serious expression, there’s a twinkle in his eyes, and you watch as the corners of his lips twitch upward.
Something breaks, then.
You feel it shattering around you: the strange solidness in the air and the silence that fills his cold, empty home. He chuckles, and his voice is warm.
“Oh my god,” you gasp through your laughter. “Take off the stupid tie.”
Jumin undoes the tie in a single motion and tosses it aside.
“Satisfied?” he asks. You grin and cross your arms and take him in.
“Who are you again?”
Jumin holds the loose tie to his collar and raises his eyebrows. He’s still smiling.
“Oh,” you say, poorly feigning surprise. “Han Jumin. It’s a pleasure to meet finally meet you.”
“Likewise,” Jumin says.
And then he lifts a hand and brushes your hair off your forehead like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And it feels natural, in spite of everything—as if this is the sort of intimacy that’s existed between you all along.
“You’re funny,” you tell him (your voice trembling because his hand has drifted to your elbow). “Has anyone ever told you that before?”
Jumin shakes his head.
“No,” he says. He means it (and for some reason that makes you want to cry).
He’s real, you think: this strange, powerful man who parts crowds and wears a suit in his own home. But the person who called you late at night when he was a little bit drunk and whispered in your ear is real, too—and he’s lonely, and tender, and desperate to be held.
And you get it. He has been waiting—all this time—to be known.
“Jumin,” you say. “I know what I want.”
He reaches for his phone, and his automatic assumption that the moment has broken makes you inexplicably sad.
“I’m not talking about food,” you tell him quietly. “I’m talking about you.”
“You know what you want…of me?” Jumin hesitates, one hand on his phone.
“Yes,” you say. “Would it be alright if I hugged you?”
Jumin—tie-less and lost in the middle of his too-big home—looks right at you, and you think in that moment that he looks very small.
“Please,” he says.
So you do it. You open your arms and wrap them around his waist—and he’s taller than you and it’s your head that’s resting on his chest but you still feel certain that you are the one doing the holding.
His shirt is clean and stiff against your cheek, but you can hear his heart. It’s fast—ragged—soft.
Here he is, you think, curling your hands in the fabric (rumpling it—rumpling him). I’ve found him.
He doesn’t feel anything like a stranger after all.
Banner and dividers by the love of my life @luxielle!
@mirathemummy @sonaapareeya @dis-gorl-does-stuff @firelordtsuki @enbyluciel @zenitsuswife-porcoswife @sxturn-stars @quirky-and-kind @promisetoloveme @kumaronoa @erilovesanime @monumentalhero @amborii @agent-bee @my-love-is-eternal @caitlynnstrashhole @evirosey @zennysgirlfriend @hawke606 @hazmad @sarahdoge
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Hello Author, I have a question.
Is there supposed to be a stat menu or did you decide to remove it because if there's supposed to be one, I can't seem to find it 😅
I don't usually play on itch.io, so maybe it's normal, but the "profile" and "relationship" disappeared after load my saved game 🤔
any saves from before the face lift/ui update I released in June will have the profile and relationship pages disappear due to some changes I had to make in the code! the only way to bring them back is to start a new game, I'm afraid 😔
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...It seems like almost no one is ever polite to Gandalf. Like, they all speak about him very respectfully when he’s not there! But when people are talking to him, whether it’s because they hate him (Grima, Saruman, Denethor), love him like family (the hobbits and Aragorn), or just find him really incredibly annoying in the moment (basically everyone else)... people are rude to Gandalf a LOT. Consistently. Which is hilarious.
(And of course, in their defense, Gandalf is himself almost never polite to anyone.)
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How about former demon King! Toranosuke (Good Demon kings can retire too)
being the grandfather Kiyotaka deserves like:
that dude is just chilling in Hell being proud of is son since he's such a good King and also being proud of his grandson since he graduated (with honours) from demon school much earlier than the normal. But then a servant told him that his son allowed his grandson to go to earth. (Needless to say he isn't impressed)
So Toranosuke being Toranosuke be buys a house near the Hope's Peak dorm and waits for his grandson to walk past his house.
Like imagine how suprised Taka is when they see each other:
Taka and Mondo: *chilling outside of the campus*
Toranosuke: *going for a walk seeing Taka and calling him*
Taka: Hello Grandfather, nice to see you here. Excuse me if this question seems to be a bit rude, but can I help you?
Toranosuke: No but thank you Taka, but why didn't you tell me earlier that my new house is near your campus? If i just knew earlier... But well how about you and your new friend just come with me now.
Well let's say Taka and Mondo had a pretty good day, Toranosuke ships ishimondo, and Toranosuke makes them promise that they'll come to meet him more often.
(Oh hey look! For once Toranosuke isn’t a bastard who ruin Ishimaru’s family name!)
Before all of this happened, I imagine Toranosuke visits his son (Takaaki) first and asked him if his grandchild is indeed currently on earth and what the hell did he do up there.
“Oh you know how he is. Too curious about the surface’s education stuff. Boy’s invited himself to a human school and lived with them for a solid three months now.”
“He w h a t?”
Then Toranosuke protest on why wasn’t he informed about this before. Takaaki stated that Kiyotaka specifically asked him to not tell about any of this to Toranosuke. Cause both of them can predict what would happen next if he knew. And their prediction is correct.
Old man’s gonna buy a whole house next to Hope’s Peak to meet his grandchild, duh.
Their first meeting is more of a shocking-awkward situation than anything. Cause Taka wasn’t aware with the possibility of meeting his freaking grandfather here on earth. He didn’t know how to feel about it. Sure he’s happy to meet his grandpa after a long time, but on the other hand he’s afraid that Toranosuke would somehow uncover their identity. Cause there’s no way he had an experience to act like a normal human before. And the way he’s just standing on other side of the road staring at them for 30 seconds before calling Taka’s name just proves it.
Perhaps it went like :
Mondo, squinting his eyes : Hey there’s this bastard creep that keep starin at us from the other side of the road. Want me to get rid of ‘im?
Taka, finally noticing the figure : *gasp* GRANDFATHER?!
Mondo : Shit that’s yer granpa—?! Fuck i’m so sorry—
Toranosuke, finally approaching them : Hello Kiyotaka, my boy! What a nice surprise! Why didn’t you tell me your school is right across my newly bought house?
Taka, whispering : I apologize if it came out rude, but what are you doing here? Did father told you?!
Toranosuke, whispering back : No matter how hard you try, you can’t hide anything from your grandfather. Surely you don’t mind me living here for quite some time right? I, too, am curious about this world that got you so entranced. Is he one of the humans? If so you’ve got such a taste for men.
Mondo, who can hear them loud and clear :
Toranosuke : Anyway, care to pay your old man a visit? It’s been so long since the last time I talked to my grandson. And perhaps you could introduce me to your new friend here as well!
The entire evening felt like a fever dream to Mondo. Not to mention Toranosuke promised to meet them more often in the future.
(And yes. Toranosuke is 100% approved to their closeness)
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(for the headcanon discussion) thinking about how intimidating getō seems, but really he’s just a very good ‘nd soft cat dad with too many plants + books around his apartment
Hello I love this so much 😩💕
Just picturing Geto wearing a black or pastel purple / green colored sweater, sweatpants with turtle shell￼ glasses perched on his nose, a book in hand when he opens his front door, a look of surprise on his face when he sees you with his fluffy little white cat lying cosey in your arms, casually waving his tail.
This is the first time you actually talk to Geto. Normally you see him in passing when you’re leaving your apartment and he’s walking in. There’s usually a nod of acknowledgment coupled with a small smile from you, who eyes are glued to the floor as you walk past him. You’re shy and he’s just so tall and intimating.
But the butterflies quiet down when Geto smiles. You melt like butter on the spot. He has the warmest eye smile that has your heart skipping a beat; and the soft curve of his lips, so kind and inviting has struggling to remember why you avoided avoided him in the first place.
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so i May or May Not be poking around in kung lao's mkx files and i May or May Not have found Some Stuff
1) based on THE VERY LIMITED modding experience i've acquired in the past couple of days it looks like it might be impossible to give revenant Lao his braid back since, looking at the parameters in his char file, his model doesn't seem to have a hair mesh, not even a hidden one.
2) That said, I could try to cut the skin paints from the revenant lao files and paste em into the tournament lao files............ i still havent decompressed the tournament lao char file tho so shrug emoji
3) sPEAKING OF REVENANT LAO TEXTURES i have made a Great discovery. The abs under his chestplate's titty window are actually painted on, which means you can actually make it bigger without editing the model itself (though ima have to look up how to fix the normals because i have No Idea how to work with em with regular painting software. i wish i knew how to rip these models so i could plug everything into Substance sobs)
4) also whoever painted the metal textures?? i hope they got a raise. They're so good
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Did moving to NY seem like a mistake when you were struggling? I’m about to move to a new country, on my own, and to be completely honest I’m really struggling to find any joy in it at the moment because I’m just so sad and scared. I don’t know whether it’s just normal, unfounded fear or like a gut instinct I’m going to be sad I didn’t listen to
it actually never did! in moments maybe, but not big picture. i was really homesick though so i had to power through it hardcore (and talk to my mama on the phone 150 times a day, which i still do and which helps a lot$
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i see a lot of ya’ll self-depreciating over how much you cry and like...generally speaking, crying is a very healthy process. it’s an important means of
expressing & processing strong emotions
moving on to a recovery period
this mindset that people just need to train themselves out of crying...that really worries me. bc the alternative is to repress those feelings instead of expressing them...and from firsthand experience i can tell you it is very much not worth doing that. i’ve been there, i’ve done it, i’ve bought into that mindset. i thought it would make me stronger and less vulnerable. instead i fell so out of touch with myself, it took years of therapy for me to learn to identify my own emotions again. i literally forgot how to tell when i’m upset or sad, bc my body had been trained out of expressing it. that’s an extreme scenario but it’s not uncommon, and if you spend too much time criticizing yourself over your own emotions, it can creep up on you.
i like to think we all know how harmful it is to tell children to just “stop crying, dammit.” turns out, the same is true for adults.
just. please change the mindset that being visibly upset is somehow shameful. if you find yourself crying a lot, that probably means something in your external and internal experiences needs to change: you don’t deserve to feel angry, frustrated, frightened, sad, or upset so frequently that it distresses you. those are only supposed to be sometime emotions.
but telling yourself to just. stop crying, or to stop feeling what you’re feeling? that’s harmful, and it doesn’t work. no one controls their emotions out of sheer will--at best we shut them down, and then pay heavily for it later. if we want our minds to feel better, we need to give them assistance, not threats. threatening or bullying our bodies and minds to behave the way we want them to will always backfire.
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thanks @cryptozo for the help on the shirt and for being my moral compass
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the amount of posts i see which condemn nora for the whole ‘they never say ily’ thing is quite alarming. i mean you are free to headcanon andreil any way you like i guess, but ultimately what i hear when i read those posts is ‘you are allowed to experience a relationship only one certain conventional way. if you don’t say certain words or engage in certain social rituals it means your relationship is not valid and you are not normal’.
and taking into account that nora is aro/ace and has probably written some of her own experiences into andreil, it seems that people mistake the representation she created for the aro/ace community for her claiming that ‘andreil will never heal enough to be able to say ily’.
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all the good things
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
summary: bucky's been more than a little happy recently. sam thinks it has something to do with the pretty girl on the team.
author's note: based on a prompt and idea sent in by a lovely anon of mine, "i haven't seen him smile like that in ages." hope u like it x
It was a stupid lie.
One that Sam thought would be funny and harmless and okay, maybe a little cruel, but harmless regardless.
It was supposed to be harmless.
Because Bucky never smiled like that. Never looked so happy.
And Sam noticed it.
He noticed it the morning they had to leave for Germany.
“Plane’s all loaded. Tony said he’ll meet us in Berlin. Everyone ready?”
Clint groaned, “We’ve been ready since your five a.m. wake up call, Rogers.”
“Why was that necessary again?” Natasha asked.
Steve narrowed his eyes, “You know why.”
“We’re not always late, Steve. Cut us some slack and Clint - Clint don’t you dare take my spot. This is like Moscow all over again —“
Sam zoned them out because he noticed Bucky standing there. Right by the door with his hands twitching and he knew something was up.
Something that involved a really pretty girl, dragging herself in all late with heavy, sleepy eyes. You looked like you hadn’t slept all night and something about it made Sam want to laugh.
He didn’t though.
Not when you dropped your head on Bucky’s chest like that.
Sam watched as his hands stopped twitching.
“‘m so tired.”
“Yeah? Maybe you shouldn’t have stayed up so late watching those reruns,” Bucky pointed out.
You grumbled something and Bucky laughed.
“I got her bag, man.” Sam interrupted.
Bucky looked over at him and nodded.
“I got her,” he quickly said, without thinking. “Got you, right, Y/N?”
“Mhm. Got me, Buck.”
Bucky smiled and Sam noticed that smile didn’t move from his face for a long time. A good twenty minutes. He didn’t know why he was paying attention to them so much. Maybe because he knew something was there. Something good was there between them and Sam liked when his friends had good things.
Even if those good things came during a ten hour plane ride.
“Alright, so Fury set us up in this hotel across the club. Tony said it gets pretty crazy around there, so going undercover will be no problem. However, we do need to watch out for these guys,” Steve handed out some profiles. “Ex-assassins. Pretty intense. Last Fury heard of ‘em they were in Chicago doing some high intel work for —“
You walked in, yawning and took a seat right next to Bucky. To everyone else, it seemed normal. You always sat next to Bucky and you always looked like that when you did. All bright-eyed and happy. Sam just didn’t know if the team knew what that was because they were too focused on Steve.
Sam focused on you though.
Focused on the way your head fell on Bucky’s shoulder and focused on the way Bucky moved his hand so you could look at the profiles together.
“Sleep well?” Bucky murmured.
“Yeah, yeah. Missed you though.”
Sam acted like he couldn’t hear them.
Like he hadn’t heard them.
But he had and he did and he needed to talk to Steve about it because he couldn’t be the only one noticing them, right? Everyone had eyes just like he did so they must have noticed.
They must have.
At least Steve would’ve.
“There’s something going on between them,” Sam tried explaining to Steve in the middle of the market. They were in some farmers market in the middle of Berlin. “I’m telling you, man, you —“
“Yeah, Bucky’s —“ Steve sighed. “He’s tryna figure it out. Doesn’t think he deserves her.”
Sam took a sip of his coffee.
“And you haven’t tried convincing him that he does? Just - just look at em’” he nudged his head over to you.
You were walking around the market with Bucky beside you. It looked like you were trying to keep an eye out, get a good glimpse of the area surrounding the club, but really couldn’t when one of the workers stopped you. Stopped to talk about some fruit he was serving and Bucky stopped too. Wrapped his arm around you from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder.
Sam knew he had to do something when you reached out and instinctively tangled your hand in Bucky’s hair. The worker said something that made you two laugh and Bucky turned his face into your neck to stop from laughing too much. From smiling too much.
“I haven’t seen him smile like that in ages.”
“Me too,” Steve agreed.
So Sam had to do something. He had too and alright, maybe he hadn’t gone about it the right way, but it got him where he wanted and that’s all that really mattered.
Sam swore he’d never seen Bucky so pissed off before though.
“Is she getting it?” Bucky asked.
They were at that stupid club. The one that was about to get ransacked by those ex-assassin assholes if they didn’t move fast enough. Bucky was at one end of the bar while you were at the other, trying to get some code from some German guy. Sam passed by to make sure things were going smoothly.
“Yeah, she’s trying too. He won’t stop flirting with her though.”
Sam watched as Bucky’s gaze fell.
“Is she flirting back?”
“Think so. Think she’s trying to get his number and code in one go. Pretty impressive if you ask me.”
Bucky’s fist clenched and Sam mentally praised himself. He shouldn’t have because yeah, he lied, but it was harmless, okay? And just because you weren’t flirting with stupid German guy didn’t mean he couldn’t lie about it because stupid American guy wasn’t making any moves either. So, getting him a little pissed wasn’t going to hurt anybody.
Except maybe the ex-assassin assholes who walked through the door. Sam believed Bucky knocked all five of them out in less than ten minutes.
Steve didn’t even have to come in and Clint and Natasha stayed on the roof. Tony too.
No one got hurt the entire night.
Except maybe Bucky.
And you because the next morning on the plane Bucky wouldn’t speak with you.
“Hey, Buck,” you greeted. “Someone didn’t come to my room last night to watch our reruns.”
Bucky didn’t respond.
You looked at him.
“Hey, Buck, I’m talking to you.”
You tugged on his sleeve and he didn’t budge.
“Grumpy,” you teased. “Grumpy, hey, we don’t take off for another 10 minutes so why don’t stop staring out the window and look at me? Hm?”
“Don’t you have some German guy to text?’ Bucky shot back. “Real shame if he didn’t hear from you before you left the country.”
Bucky wanted to scoff. He wanted to scoff so bad.
“German guy? What German guy? Buck I —“
“Can’t even reply to my text when we’re one floor apart, but you’d do long-distance with him?”
“Long-distance? Who said anything about long distance and what German guy?”
You waited for him to say something and he didn’t.
“What German guy, Buck? And would you stop grumbling things under your breath and just look at me? Please.”
Your hand went to his jaw and you turned it to face you.
Bucky removed your hand from his skin.
You sighed and a part of you wanted to be irritated, it really did, but he was just upset. He looked really upset and you didn’t want to make him more upset, so you didn’t push. Not too much anyway but there was still a misunderstanding and you needed to fix it.
Now. You needed to fix it now.
So you got up and took a seat on his lap. Right on his thigh and rested your back on the window.
“That isn’t safe.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck, “Pretty sure I’m safer here than there. Don’t ya think?”
Bucky didn’t say anything.
You held back a grin.
“Now how about you tell me what’s got you all grumpy? Hm? I can see that little crinkle on your forehead and you know —“ you smoothed it out with your thumb. “You know how much I don’t like that.”
“I can’t fix it if you don’t talk to me, Buck. Communication, remember?”
“You could’ve told me you wanted to…see other people. I know we aren’t together and I know it’s stupid that I’m being like this and if you want to be with German guy than —“
“What German guy?”
Bucky looked away from you.
“What German guy, Buck? There was…is no German guy. There’s no one but —“
“That guy from the club. The one you were flirting with.”
You were taken aback for a moment and stayed quiet. Really, you didn’t know why you stayed as quiet as you did for as long as you did, but Bucky must’ve thought that he was right when you did. That your silence was an I caught you moment because he started moving you off his lap. Started unwrapping your arms from around his neck but you stayed put.
“I wasn’t flirting with him. I would never —“
And you’d be mad, you really would, but he was just hurt. He was hurt so you leaned forward and nudged your nose against his cheek. Against his stubble.
“Hey, grumpy, don’t do that. You know I’d only flirt with you.”
“Sam said —“
“And Sam jokes a lot. What makes you think he wasn't joking?”
Bucky didn’t say anything.
“You really think I’d do that to you?”
Bucky sighed, “No, no I know you wouldn’t. I guess it just —”
Sam cleared his throat and Bucky’s head shot to him. There was a smug grin on his face and Bucky immediately went, “I’m gonna kill him.”
“No you’re not.”
“I am. I can’t believe he would...you really...“
And he didn’t have to continue for you to know what he wanted to say. You really didn’t flirt with him? You really didn’t want him? It was written all over his face and all you had to do was tighten your arms around his neck. Card your fingers through the back of his hair for him to get the message.
His head fell on your chest.
“Am crazy about you, darlin’,” he looked up at you. “Just thought I lost you before I could make you mine.”
You stopped breathing.
“You wanna be mine, right?”
You blinked for a few seconds then pushed him back into the seat, kissing him a little too hard. Yeah, grumpy, I wanna be yours, you squeaked out because you were that excited. That giddy and Bucky laughed against your lips. Laughed and pressed his lips against that beautiful smile of yours even harder because he’d only been dreaming about kissing you like this for months. You even wanted to add that you’ve wanted to be his, well, since the first time you caught him watching reruns of that stupid baking show you always turned off.
Because to you it was too intense and fast and your life was already like that. Already too chaotic, but to Bucky it was calming. He found it calming so you started watching it with him.
She didn’t even leave it in the freezer long enough. How did she expect it to hold itself together? It’s chocolate, not glue, you’d always say. Always go on some tangent and Bucky really liked it. Found you funny and comforting and it really could've just been your voice. Your voice was sweet and smooth, but it wasn’t just that. It was you and all of you and he fell in love with all of it.
All of you.
Just like you fell in love with him when he rested his head on your shoulder and fell asleep right between you one night.
“Got me, Y/N?”
“Got you, Buck.”
So, the kiss felt like that. Like sleepy nights and baking shows and home and just everything good.
Sam could tell.
After all, he liked when his friends had good things.
Even if he had to make a few harmless lies to get them.
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limerence [childe x gn!reader]
prompt: limerence - noun - the state of being infatuated or obsessed with another person, typically experienced involuntarily and characterized by a strong desire for reciprocation of one's feelings
pairings: childe x gn!reader
word count: 2.6k
warnings: check tags for tws, but overall sfw. neither angst nor fluff.
a/n: best read going in blind! :) but TWs are in tags if you’re worried. absolutely nobody requested this and this was a completely self-indulgent fic simply due to my desire to write a full scenario for childe.
the russet-haired harbinger spots you that morning, like every tuesday morning, in liyue harbor. your back is turned to him, but he can recognize your figure anywhere. he watches your shoulders and hair move with every articulated word and as the distance closes between the two of you, he can hear your frustrated words. every tuesday, you come to the market for your groceries and, every tuesday, you haggle with the shopkeeper over the price of potatoes in a rather aggressive manner.
to those unfamiliar with your antics, you and the shopkeeper are wordsmiths, crafting your weapons and going to war against each other. petty insults are thrown, ones that have no weight, a complete display of unprofessionalism on both you and the shopkeeper’s behalf. nonetheless, everyone near the two of you continues on their merry way, ignoring the spectacle unfolding before them. because, childe knows, the two of you do this every week. there’s no need for childe to intervene. not only does he know this is just friendly banter with a shopkeeper you’ve known your whole life, but, when it comes to verbal conviction, your words can sway nearly anyone. it’s just… not quite as effective on those who have known you for a majority of your life.
childe rounds the corner, two of his northland bank underlings trailing behind him. his presence unsettles the shopkeepers nearby, but you pay him no mind. now able to view you from the side, childe takes advantage of the several-meter distance between the two of you to get a good look at you. a wooden lattice basket rests in the crook of your elbows, shaking ever so slightly as you gesticulate widely, determined to win your squabble. the shopkeeper, having noticed childe’s presence from afar, blanches for a brief second, but the derisive, wide grin that crosses childe’s face at the sight notifies him that the harbinger has not yet arrived to collect his debts.
you, on the other hand, take no notice of the ginger, your eyebrows furrowing even further upon realizing something had distracted the shopkeeper. childe stifles a laugh upon seeing you snap your fingers at the man, redirecting his attention. even if you weren’t as captivating to everyone else in the way you were to childe, you still knew how to demand attention from those around you. tartaglia wishes nothing more than to wrap his arms around your waist and surprise you while you’re hard at work, mastering the art of haggling, but unfortunately for the both of you, duty called for childe as well.
harbingers had very little time to rest, but he desired to spend every free moment he has with you.
the harbinger pads softly into your room, his socks muffling the noise of any footsteps. it had once been a challenge for him to do such an action as your bedroom door had been quite squeaky but after fixing it once you had gone to work one day, childe was now able to join you in bed without disrupting your sleep. for the harbinger, this had been important as he knew how little sleep you got and his odd work hours would often lead to him disturbing what precious little shuteye you managed to obtain.
childe had no desire to focus on issues of the past, rather desiring to focus on you, who laid asleep and vulnerable in front of him. he lays down on the other side of your bed, making sure to shift his weight in a soft manner, not wanting this action to wake you up either. he inhales sharply upon seeing you shift in your sleep, electing to hold his breath until you settle back down. fortunately for him, it didn’t take very long and the shift in your breathing pattern let him know that you were once again deep within the forests of dreamland.
he smiles softly at you, propping his head on his hand to look at you while laying on his side. moonlight filters in, weaving through the gaps of your curtains, to softly illuminate your face -- just enough light to give tartaglia a good view of of your face and he admires the way the shadows fall upon your cheeks, the oh-so-faint shadow your eyelashes cast upon your undereyes, and the disappearance of the usual worries that plagued your face.
childe always wonders why such lines form on your face, why your brows furrow with a faint sadness and anger whenever you get lost in thought, unaware anyone is watching. he’s not sure what you have to worry about when he’s always there for you. what better protection than a fatui harbinger, especially one as skilled in battle as he?
but for now, he’s content with the peaceful expression that graces your face and elects to softly brush a loose strand of your hair away from your face. while it was amusing to watch it shift with each breath you took, childe figured you’d be more comfortable if there were no hindrances to your sleep. Nonetheless, he traces a finger from the back of your ear and down your jawline, admiring the feel of your skin under his featherlight touch. i’ve been considerate enough with your sleep, he thinks. please forgive me for letting me indulge myself with you this once.
he leans over, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. tartaglia’s heart swells as he sees your lips subtly twitch in response to his gesture of love. if he can bring you happiness even within your dreams, then his duty is fulfilled. while his body is sworn to the will of the tsaritsa and his brain sworn to the protection of his family, his heart is bound to yours in an unbreakable oath, for you have locked it within your grasp and thrown away the key.
despite you whisking away all hope for the harbinger to fall in love with someone else, tartaglia wouldn’t change it for a thing, for you were the one he truly desired. he had always been bad at telling you such things during the day, but when the night coated the two of you in her blanket of darkness, tartaglia would feel the words spill from his mouth in murmured poems, trying to accurately describe how he felt about you. he was happy with such events, as the two of you communicated best within the comforting familiarity of the night’s shadows.
tartaglia watches, hidden in the shadows of your hallway, as you dance around the kitchen, cooking yourself some saturday morning pancakes for breakfast. you’re singing to yourself, sliding around the slick floor in your socks as you pretend you’re a world-famous idol. in your fantasies the world is your oyster, but, more importantly, the spatula in your hands is your microphone. you’re belting out the words to a song childe recognizes to be your favorite.
he doesn’t enter the kitchen, afraid of causing you to be mortified that he caught you doing such a thing, and instead leans against the wall, appreciating your singing. these vulnerable states is when childe realizes he truly loves you. the way your eyes sparkle with delight at the thought of entertaining massive audiences, yet your goofy grin still remaining as you pause your chaotic set of songs to flip the pancakes, is a sight the harbinger wouldn’t trade for the world.
however, this vulnerability worries childe. he’s not always around to protect you and he knows how irresistible you are in his eyes, so the harbinger can’t help but worry what misfortune would fall upon you if someone nefarious set their sights upon you. the tsaritsa won’t always have him stationed in liyue, so if you are in danger, it will take longer for him to come rescue you. such thoughts cloud his mind easily, but in moments like these, tartaglia also embraces his love for you, for he knows that if you were not remarkable, these thoughts would not plague his mind. you are like a small animal, precious to those who see the value in you, but fresh meat for those wanting to slaughter.
as you dance within the confines of your abode, childe secludes himself from your vision, wishing to allow you to explore your reveries in peace. he wishes not to taint the innocent moments he wishes he could still have and instead chooses to stand watch over you, protecting from the shadows of the hallway as you glide around in the radiant, warm sunlight, for he is your knight and you are the royalty in the tower he must defend until his last breath.
tuesday rolls around again and the harbor is bustling more than it was last week. childe watches as you weave through the crowd, empty basket in tow, ready to begin your weekly tuesday morning routine of bartering with your favorite quarrelsome shopkeeper. the shopkeeper quickly notices you and the two of you exchange friendly greetings, before immediately launching into this week’s point of contention: tomato prices.
however, it’s different for childe this week. today, he is not bound by the will of the tsaritsa, a rare lull in his usually ceaseless obligations to the throne. for today, the harbinger has a day off and he wishes to spend it with the person he loves most. a nervousness swells in his chest. tartaglia had not told you that he had been granted with spare time and he feared your reaction upon learning this news. would delivering the news end in rejection and you being angered that he’s intruding upon your free time, not having notified you of such an event earlier on? no, he chastises himself. i know you, you would never do such a thing.
he navigates through the crowd with ease, noting how those who are aware of his reputation within the town easily make way for him to get through. but today, he arrives not as a harbinger, but as the man who loves you most. he sneaks up behind you as you barter, relishing in the fact that you remain blissfully unaware to his presence.
“i think you should lower the price of each tomato by 10 mora!” you insist. the shopkeeper opens his mouth to reply, but closes his mouth and gives a nervous smile, noticing the man that stood behind you. tartaglia smiles sardonically at the man as you stare at the shopkeeper, confused by the sudden mellowing of his attitude.
“how much are tomatoes going for?” childe asks, interrupting the conversation. your eyes widen upon realizing someone else is perusing the same stall and you turn to look at the man that towers over you.
“one-hundred and twenty mora each,” the shopkeeper responds, doing his best to keep his voice level in the presence of the fatui harbinger.
“ah,” childe responds, lifting an arm up to scratch the back of his head. “no wonder you’re being haggled with! do you think you could drop the price to 50 mora for my companion here?” the words exit his mouth as a question, but one laced with a firm resolve that only demanded for the shopkeeper to comply with his words.
“y’know, i’m feeling pretty gracious today,” the shopkeeper stammers, eyes flitting between you and the man behind you as you watch the interaction, bewildered by the shopkeeper’s change in tune when it came to pricing. “how about i sell the tomatoes to you, forty mora each?”
you stare at the shopkeeper, mouth falling open in shock. “r... really?” you squeak with a hint of excitement to your voice, before pausing to think about the situation. “that’s quite generous of you, are you sure you can handle such pricing?”
the shopkeeper’s eyes dart to childe and the harbinger crosses his arms and nods at the shopkeeper with a pressed smile, narrowed eyebrows, and folded arms while nodding his head slowly up and down. in return, the shopkeeper nods his head quickly.
“of course! think of it as a reward for being a frequent customer!” the shopkeeper insists, all while you’re oblivious to his sweating of bullets at childe’s presence. he hurriedly hands you the tomatoes you desired. “thank you for being a fantastic customer!”
“oh!” you state, shocked, but taking the tomatoes and placing them in your basket.
childe drops the malicious expression and instead beams a toothy grin at the shopkeeper, his intimidating aura all but dropped. “thank you for cooperating, sir! i’ll be quite sure to take note of such generous deeds!”
the shopkeeper, seemingly understanding that he’s been reprieved of having to deal with childe’s presence, lets out a long exhale of relief before turning to sell to another customer. as you situate the produce you purchased in your basket, you realize that your produce pricing hero is about to turn away and you can’t let him escape without thanking him!
“w... wait!” you say, tugging on childe’s sleeve. he turns back and looks at you with a mischievous, knowing smirk.
“oh?” he asks coyly.
“thank you!” you state, briefly clasping your hands around one of his as a gesture of appreciation. “that was amazing! i’ve never been able to purchase tomatoes for such an inexpensive price before!”
childe revels in your kind words and praise. he shouldn’t take pride in such a frivolous thing, but the way you stare at him, eyes blown wide with adoration and awe, causes his heart to skip a few beats faster. as your sworn protector, such actions should only be routine for him, but seeing you bat your eyelashes at him and ignite his skin as you brush your fingertips over it makes him want to evoke any and all forms of praise about him that he can get out of your mouth.
however, his daydreams and desires come to a screeching halt after you utter your next few words.
“i have to ask, what’s your name? i’ve never seen you around here before?” you say excitedly, eager to get to know the harbinger.
his cheerful mood falters for a brief moment as he’s forced to face reality. despite all of the nights he’s spent with you, all of the favors he’s done for you, all of the times he’s watched over you, the two of you had never truly spoken. as a cool oceanic breeze brushes over the two of you, childe holds back a shiver of discomfort as he’s faced with the reality that he loves you far more than you love him, that he knows far more of you than you know of him, for the knight protecting the tower is always a stranger to the royalty sheltered within.
despite the fact that you bring him to his knees, you have no idea of the effect you have on the harbinger, for the two of you have never exchanged words until this moment. all of childe’s declarations of love to you have been one-sided, whether it be words or actions. his resolve is shaken to the core, but, in a split second, he steels himself and returns the smile to his face, for what good is a knight who gives up when faced with reality?
“i’m tartaglia, but you can call me childe, if you prefer,” he croons, extending a hand out to you for a handshake.
as you grasp his hand firmly and shake in return, childe isn’t sure if he ever wants to let you go.
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hear me out, drunk confessions from haikyuu boys; things they’d only say to you while their drunk.
HAIKYUU BOYS DRUNK CONFESSIONS
characters — timeskip!sakusa kiyoomi, miya atsumu, suna rintarō, iwaizumi hajime, miya osamu
a/n — warnings ⚠️ alcohol use, a little vomit in atsumu’s. this is just real mushy stuff and i may have shed a few tears writing it. i can’t do this today.
☾ SAKUSA you smile at him as stumbles into the passenger seat with a huff, flushed cheeks and eyes a little glazed and you know he’s drunk, probably his teammates doing, but he’s quiet. you’re already half way home before you decide to speak, noticing how kiyoomi’s gaze seems locked on the world outside the passenger window. “you okay, omi?” “y-yeah.” quiet, followed by a sniffle from the man beside you “are you s—“ “sometimes.. i just feel overwhelmed that you exist.. and that you’re mine, sweetheart.” you notice the shake in his hands as they grip at his thighs but the warmth in your chest feels familiar. “how many shots did atsumu give you?” it’s lighthearted your reply, just like the giggle that sounds from him when he finally turns to face you “s-shutup.” eyes a little redder than normal alongside a wobbly smile that serves as a silent thank you for pulling him back, you were always good at that. his hand reaches for yours, intertwining it with his own before he brings it up to place a kiss against your skin, and you squeeze his hands after as a silent confession of i’m glad you exist too.
☾ ATSUMU you hear a whine from the man below you, running your hand through the messy bleached hair on his head while he wraps himself around the toilet bowl, tear stained cheeks as he turns to blink up at you, a handsome smirk on his lips despite the facts he’s been vomiting for the past ten minutes. his features soften as his hand reaches for yours, fingers intertwining tightly with your own as he turns to face the toilet bowl again “don’t leave, angel. please” “i won’t, tsumu.” “p-promise?” he inhales a breath, a new set of tears trailing down his cheeks and you don’t know if it’s the burning in his throat or the warmth in his heart that caused them this time, but he speaks again, quieter this time. “am sorry for keepin’ ya awake with me, baby. y-ya love me anyway, right? yer just so good, a don’t deserve ya, a—“ “tsumu, i’ll always love you. promise.” he turns to blink up at you again, cheeks still flushed and his smiles softer this time, sighing when he feels your hands push back his hair “a don’t deserve ya, but if ya let me, al prove a can give ya the world anyway.” “you are my world, tsumu.” “does that mean a get a kiss?” “ew no.” “babyyy, al brush ma teeth.”
☾ SUNA you try to stifle a laugh when as you guide your 6’3 boyfriend into the bedroom, feeling him stumble behind you as he mumbles a curse under his breath every few seconds before he stops dead in the middle of the room, arms snaking around your waist to pull you against his chest even though he stumbles slightly at the impact “rin, you have to sleep.” “sososo pretty, pretty baby.” his palms are warm when they come to rest against your cheeks, squishing them slightly as he gazes down at you, lips upturning slightly when you roll your eyes at him “okay, time for bed.” he huffs before grabbing your waist, spinning and pulling you down on the bed behind you both, rolling you underneath him just so he can flop on top of you after. “you’re squishing me rin, get off.” “comfy. goodnight, ugly.” you scoff before giggling, feeling his arms around you waist tighten at the sound as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his eyes finally fluttering closed because it truly did sound like his forever.
☾ IWAIZUMI you snort when you hear him stumble in the bedroom door, probably tripping over his own feet as he tries to navigate in the dark, hissing a curse under his breath. “doll, you up?” “you okay, haji?” you look up at him as you reach over to flick on the bedside lamp, hearing him groan at the light as he holds a tattered mcdonald’s bag close to his chest “i missed you tonight. i brought you this, shittykawa tried to steal it but i kicked his ass.” you try to stifle a giggle as he hands you some soggy fries and half of his own burger, blinking down at you with parted lips and flushed cheeks “let me take care of you.” as he shakily feeds you a fry while you bat away his hand, causing him to frown as his lips jut out to form a pout “i’ll eat tomorrow, thank you though. come to bed, okay?” he grunts, stumbling into bed beside you before immediately pulling you against his chest, placing a few sloppy kisses to your face “you take such good care of me doll, shit i love you.” his grip softening as he snores quietly into the crook of your neck.
☾ OSAMU you giggle when you see him come through the living room door, returning from his night with his old teammates at school. “there ya are, sweetheart.” his cheeks are flushed, smile a little brighter but wobblier than usual, probably the alcohol in his system you note as he stumbles towards you, arms immediately wrapping around your waist while he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. he was always a little clingier when he was drunk but he was sleepier too, which now ended up with you trying to support his weight when he got too comfy around you “samu, let’s go to bed.” “angel, y-ya know yer the best thing that’s ever happened ta me right?” you grin as you try to inch yourself down the hall, hearing him speak again “tonight, when people were askin’ me what a was most proud of, ya know a said you, cos shit it’ll always be you.” his words became more slurred at he dozed off in your neck, causing your steps to falter slightly before you finally reached the bed, setting him down while he blinks up at you “ya make it all worth it, sweetheart, ‘ts all for ya.” before he finally falls asleep.
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You're animals always seem to be going to the vet and it worries me so much😭 Are they doing ok? Are you doing ok?
I mean, I honestly think my experiences are pretty normal!
with Pangur her last couple things were weird greasy fur (turns it was caused by dry skin, from sleeping in front of the heating vent all winter) and a clicking knee (she tore her cartilage by jumping from something a little too high)
it may be that I'm just more sensitive to changes in health/behaviour than other folk who don't spend as much time with their animals, or who don't get as anxious over mild abnormalities
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Ranboo just getting thrown into VC trying to figure out how to rp talking someone out of suicide
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ok so like, i'm not tryna d*e any time soon, but i fell down a rabbit hole and:
who gave eco friendly coffins the right to be so cute?? like, you are not simply being put into the ground, no no. you are being given to the earth like a present in a little wicker basket. love it.
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Jubilant Autumn // Part 1
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my “miscellaneous hoard of various shiny things, trinkets, and rocks that I pick up off the ground” is growing... there’s almost not any space for new rocks lol
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