#but the comment section gets me frustrate as hell

[sugarcoated-lame]

Lost and Found | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Single Dad!Bradley x Reader

Part One of my Single dad!Bradley miniseries | part two | library blog

*all my works are 18+, minors DNI

Summary: When Bradley’s four-year old daughter goes missing during a trip to the mall, he doesn’t expect to find himself so taken with the pretty stranger who helps her find her way back to him.

WC: 3.6K

Warnings: I suck at titling my stories and summaries :), a bit of angst, mentions of pregnancy and abandonment, (briefly) missing child, mentions of anxiety/panic attack, but then so much fluff, Bradley’s kid being too cute for her own good, implied age gap, I feel like dilf Bradley needs his own warning

a/n: I wrote this months ago and I’m a bit nervous to share, but the response to the teaser was so amazing (thank you <3) and dilf Bradley lives in my head rent-free, so I’m excited about this one! Also the picture on the right just screams dad Bradley to me! Thank you for reading, as always I’d love to hear your feedback, so please leave a comment/reblog <3

• • •

Bradley directs his gaze away from the rack of little girls’ clothes he’d been perusing, injecting enthusiasm into his voice as he holds up a hanger with a small, baby pink t-shirt dress hanging on it. “Hey, Bug. What do you think of this–?” 

He cuts himself off before the end of his question when he realizes that he’s talking to no one. “Where did she…?” 

He trails off, brows furrowed. Still holding up the child-sized dress that looks especially tiny next to his large frame, Bradley spins around, perplexed. She was just here.

- - - 

Bradley’s daughter, Caroline, who’d just recently turned four— and was growing up way too fast for his liking— was set to begin preschool next week. His little girl was growing right before his eyes and she needed a new wardrobe to accommodate that. So, Bradley had taken her to the mall to buy some new clothes for school. He didn’t know the first thing about little girls’ fashion, but he was sure he could manage.

He’d spent the last hour searching through clothing rack after clothing rack in the girl’s section of a department store, Caroline at his side, lips in a pout and shaking her little head ‘no’ at all of his choices, sandy brown curls bobbing along with her every movement. Bradley could tell the four-year old was getting bored, and he was becoming frustrated.

The buzzing of his phone with a text from Maverick granted him a brief reprieve from his predicament.

“One second, honey.” Bradley sighed, affectionately patting the top of his daughter’s head before looking toward his phone to answer some question Mav had about work.

He was happy for a moment’s distraction from getting ready to tear his hair out wondering if he was going to have to send his daughter to her first day of preschool wearing a trash bag because he didn’t know what the hell kind of clothes he’s supposed to buy for a picky four-year old girl.

Bradley had been a single parent for most of his daughter’s life. He and Caroline’s mother, Amber, had only been seeing each other for the better half of a year when they found out the news that they were expecting. And even then, their relationship was never really official.

The two met not long after the Uranium Mission, while Bradley was still on North Island taking some time to relax and awaiting another assignment. He’d gone to the little diner Amber was waitressing at, he thought she was cute and they’d hit it off straight away. Bradley got her number and the rest was history.

The Navy kept Bradley busy. He was always traveling for some assignment or deployments – sometimes gone for months at a time, so they only saw each other on the rare occasions he was in town. 

They’d hang out and hook up, maybe go on a date here and there, a sort of friends-with-benefits situation. There was definitely a sense of care between Bradley and Amber, but the lack of time they were able to spend together meant it never went beyond that.

When they learned that Amber was pregnant, they both knew it wouldn’t be easy. But they thought that, together, they could make it work.

A few months after Caroline was born though, Amber admitted that she couldn’t handle things.

Bradley took to being a father so easily. From the moment their baby was born and she looked up at him with those big, honey brown eyes that matched his own, he knew that he’d do absolutely anything for her. Caroline instantly became his world.

Amber, on the other hand, really struggled. She loved her baby of course, but deep down she wasn’t sure she was ready to be a mother. If she’d ever be. 

She figured it was better if she’d gone while Caroline was still young enough that she wouldn’t remember her, and knew that their daughter would be just fine in Bradley’s loving hands. And just like that, she left the both of them.

Bradley resented Amber for a while, but in time he came to understand. Not everyone was meant to be a parent. Besides that, he knew that there was no time for resentment. 

He was on his own with a four-month old baby and he needed to put all of his energy into taking care of her. So, he requested a more permanent position at Top Gun so that he could stay in one place to raise his daughter, and it’s been just the two of them ever since.  

 - - - 

Bradley couldn’t have been turned around for more than thirty seconds before he pocketed his phone and reached back out to grab the little pink dress off the rack to show his daughter. But, when he turned back, Caroline was nowhere to be seen.

Ok, don’t panic, Bradley tells himself. She can’t have gone far.  

“Caroline?” He calls out calmly, eyes darting around the surrounding area as he spins to look in every direction.

When he doesn’t receive a response, Bradley puts down the dress he was holding and begins to walk among the sea of clothing racks, still calling out his daughter’s name.

He searches the entire girl’s section of the store without success and decides to broaden his search, his heart beginning to speed up in his chest. Ok, he’s starting to panic.

Bradley picks up his pace, maneuvering from one section of the store to another, asking the other customers and few employees that mill about if they’ve seen his daughter. 

He knows he must look crazed, practically sprinting, his sneakers squeaking as he moves across the shiny floors as his repeated calls of Caroline’s name become increasingly more frantic — panting and on the verge of tears by the time he’s finished searching the entirety of the large department store to no avail.

Bradley stands frozen in the middle of the store, tears pricking his eyes, chest rising and falling rapidly on the brink of hyperventilating. He’s at a loss for what to do. His mind racing through all of the worst scenarios. What if she’s hurt? What if someone took her? 

It’s his job to protect his little girl and make sure that she’s always safe, and he failed her. He’s all that Caroline has, and he feels like a failure of a father.

- - -

You’re walking through the busy mall with a couple of bags in hand, all finished with your shopping and ready to head home when you see her. 

A little girl — tiny really, she can’t be older than five — with curls a golden shade bordering between both blonde and brown, standing by the bottom of the escalator, alone. 

Playing with her little fingers as she looks around the crowd aimlessly with unshed tears in her big, brown eyes. The scared look on her adorable little face breaks your heart, and you know you can’t leave without making sure she’s okay.

You approach her slowly, as if she were a frightened animal that might bolt at any moment, speaking softly so as not to scare her any further. “Hey, honey. Are you alright?”

The look she gives you is a shy one, eyes widening before she looks down at her light-up sneakers and shakes her head. 

You can tell the little girl is apprehensive about talking to a stranger — smart.

Kneeling down to be at her eye-level before speaking again, and setting your shopping bags down at your sides, you tell her your name and ask for hers.

“I’m Caroline.” Her voice is sweet and shy, a near-whisper as she chances a glance up at you, eyes still shining with tears when she lifts her head.

“Are you here alone, Caroline? Are you with your mommy and daddy?” You ask her gently.

She shakes her head again, curls swaying along with the motion.  “I was with my daddy, but I lost him.”

The adorable pout on her lips might’ve made you smile, if it weren’t for the tears that follow, finally spilling from her eyes and trailing down onto her rosy cheeks.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I can help you find him!” You soothe as your thumb moves to brush her tears away. “Where did you last see him?”

Caroline sniffles and thinks for a moment before speaking, a little bit louder this time.

“We were buying me clothes for preschool in one of the big stores, and my daddy had to answer the phone so I was looking all by myself. And then I got lost and I couldn’t find him.”

You continue to wipe at Caroline’s tears as she talks in that rambling sort of way that all little kids do.

“Preschool, wow. That sounds fun!” You try to take her mind off of the scary situation for a second and she nods excitedly at that, still sniffling. “What’s your daddy’s name?”

Her tears finally begin to slow as she talks about her dad.

“His name’s Bradley, but everybody calls him Rooster! He flies planes!” Caroline explains excitedly. 

You can’t help but chuckle as you tell her that her dad has a funny nickname, and that his job sounds fun. You’re happy to see Caroline give you a small smile back.

“Do you remember what store you and your daddy were shopping in?”

She has to think for a long moment, the most adorable, pensive pout you’ve ever seen on her face as she tries to remember.

She doesn’t know the name of the store, but she is able to describe it for you, and you’re able to make a distinction from there.

Standing back to your full height, you readjust your bags on one arm and extend your free hand out towards Caroline, offering her a reassuring smile.  

“I know exactly where that is! Ready to go find him?” Caroline grins as she takes your hand with an excited nod, tears no longer visible in her big brown eyes.

The two of you walk on in search of her dad — Bradley, and Caroline talks your ear off the whole way. She is absolutely adorable, telling you more about herself and asking you questions about yourself too, and you find yourself falling more in love with her sweet disposition by the minute. 

Within five minutes, you make it to the store that Caroline had been in last, hopeful to reunite her with her father who you figure must be worried sick.

- - -

Bradley isn’t quite sure how long he’s been scouring the massive department store looking for his four-year old daughter— though it feels like forever, time seeming to move in slow motion— on the brink of a panic attack and just about ready to phone the police when he hears a familiar high-pitched shriek of, “DADDY!”

He turns around at lightning speed — and practically gives himself whiplash — to see Caroline approaching him, holding a woman’s hand. 

When she lets go and bounds right towards him, Bradley lets out a massive sigh of relief. Kneeling down to catch his little girl in his arms, he feels like he might cry all over again, overcome with a flurry of emotions now that his daughter is safe in his embrace once again.

“Caroline, baby, you scared me half to death!” Bradley can’t keep the emotion out of his voice as he lifts his daughter into his arms and stands back up to his full height, lying his head atop of hers and squeezing her tight. “You can’t just wander off like that, you could’ve gotten hurt.”

He tries his best not to sound angry — she is only four after all, and he’s just thankful that she’s okay. Caroline’s arms wrap around his neck as he holds her tight, her face burrowing into the crook of Bradley’s neck.

“Daddy, I’m fine!” She insists. “And I made a new friend!” 

It’s only then that Bradley looks up at the woman who had reunited him with his little girl, standing a few feet away and watching them with a sweet smile.

Oh. It’s only then that he realizes, you are beautiful. 

Bradley’s honestly convinced you might be an angel. Pretty, bright eyes and a glowing sweet smile that nearly takes his breath away. And, you’d been kind enough to help his daughter safely find her way back to him.

Bradley just stares for a moment, lips parted and still holding Caroline in his arms, and he hopes that you’ll chalk it up to the overwhelming nature of the situation.

“Uh– thank you so much for bringing Caroline back to me. I don’t know how I could ever repay you.” He rushes out, hand cradling the back of his baby’s hair. “I-I’m…” Fuck, why is he so nervous all of a sudden?

“…Bradley,” You finish for him. “Or, Rooster. Right?”

His brows furrow, a pensive look on his very handsome face, a look that you realize matches the one you had seen on his daughter’s face earlier. Cute.  

“How did you-” He begins to question how you know his name — and call-sign — but is promptly cut off by his four-year old practically screaming in his ear.

“I told her, Daddy!” Caroline exclaims proudly.  

For a man called ‘Rooster’, you sure were not expecting Caroline’s dad to be this good looking. But, fuck, is he hot.

Though he’s clearly got a few years on you, Bradley’s all tall and sun-kissed, tan skin. Broad shoulders and big, muscular arms on display in his fitted black t-shirt while he holds up his little girl, sandy curls a shade or two darker than hers. Whiskey-colored eyes that match his daughter’s, that you can only describe as puppy dog eyes. 

His deep, husky voice that sends tingles down your spine and beautifully shaped pink lips framed by a mustache that you’re surprised you find so attractive.

“Well, I’m glad I could be of help.” You hope that he can’t see the flush you can feel blooming on your cheeks as you speak. “And, Caroline was great company!”

You wink at the little girl who giggles against his shoulder, and when Bradley smiles at you graciously, you can’t help but smile back. God, his smile is pretty.

Up in his arms, Caroline gets distracted playing with her dad's curls. There are a few moments of silence between you, though not uncomfortable, before Bradley speaks up again.

“Well, thank you again. I–uh,” Bradley clears his throat. 

“I guess we should let you go. We’ve gotta find some clothes for this little troublemaker, otherwise she’ll have to go to school wearing a garbage bag.” Bradley jokes in a playful tone, bouncing his daughter around in his arms as she giggles, and you can’t help but laugh too at the infectious sound.

“Daddy, wait!” Caroline shouts out before you can answer him.

“What is it, little bug?” Bradley murmurs as he strokes a hand lovingly over her curls. Caroline turns in his hold, directing her next question toward you.

“Can you come with us?” Oh, her puppy dog eyes are even cuter than Bradley’s, and you imagine he probably has a hard time ever saying no to her. “Daddy has no idea what he’s doing when it comes to girl clothes.”

You can’t contain the giggle that escapes your lips as Caroline dramatically rolls her eyes and Bradley lets out an offended huff, the two of them staring at each other with matching, petulant pouts. Adorable.

“That is not true!” Bradley practically shrieks at his daughter and it only makes you laugh more.

“And, honey, she probably doesn’t want–” Bradley begins to protest before you interject.

“I’d love to.” You chime in with a coy grin and Bradley looks back at you, bewildered.

Sure, you figure he probably has a beautiful wife waiting for him at home, but what’s the harm in spending just a little more time with a handsome pilot and his adorable daughter? So far, you’re having a lot of fun.

Bradley’s brows furrow skeptically. “Are you…sure?”

You purse your lips, staring up toward the ceiling for a moment as if you really need to think about it before you grin and offer him a one-shouldered shrug. “Yeah, I’ve got nowhere to be.” 

You hope you don’t seem too eager, but the matching smiles you receive from both Bradley and Caroline tell you they don’t mind.

Bradley’s honestly a bit shocked that you— a pretty, young, complete stranger, want to stick around to hang out with him and his kid, but he isn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

So, once you assure him again that you’re happy to stay, he sets Caroline back on her feet and offers — more like insists — that he holds your shopping bags, and the three of you set off to peruse the oh-so daunting girl’s clothing section of the store once again.

Bradley watches in awe as Caroline grabs your hand, tugging you along as you help her pick out some articles of clothing.

The two of you chatter the whole time, bringing him into the conversations too, holding up articles of clothing and asking what he thinks, and Bradley is delighted to see how good you are with his daughter.

“This would look pretty on you!” Caroline holds out a little girl’s purple sweater dress in your direction. “Wouldn’t it, Daddy?” 

You’re biting back a grin as Bradley looks to you and then back to his daughter and chuckles.

“I don’t think it comes in her size, Bug.” Bradley’s gaze returns to you, mirth in his eyes when he continues, “But yeah, it would look very pretty.” 

You know he can see the obvious flush to your cheeks this time as his lips pull up into a smirk. 

Shaking your head, you look back down to Caroline with a grin. “I think it’d look even prettier on your dad.” That pulls a giggle out of both of them. 

Things go on like that as the three of you continue to shop, Bradley admiring how sweet and funny you are, how patient you are with his daughter.

The two of you discreetly sharing amused looks at some of the obscure things Caroline says that could only come out of a little kid’s mouth, banter coming easily between the three of you. 

After a short while, Caroline has an array of new outfits for school— and a new stuffed animal after some begging and very convincing puppy dog eyes from his four-year old while you stood by and tried not to giggle, and Bradley knows that he wants to get to know you more.

He hasn’t done much in the way of dating since becoming a single father. Aside from the simple lack of time, Bradley’s always been afraid that most women won’t want to stick around when they find out he has a kid.

That they might not get along with his daughter or worse, be upset when they realize that Caroline will always be his number one priority. 

Too scared to let his daughter get attached to someone only for them to leave, Caroline is his world and he’s been content with that. 

But now, after seeing the way you are with his little girl — and in such a short time, he can’t help but think that he already likes you being a part of it.

With the clothing shopping done, the sun is setting by the time you're all ready leave the mall. Bradley and Caroline walk you out to your car, and both are reluctant to say goodbye to you just yet. You can't say you’re too happy to part with them either. 

As he helps you put your bags in the trunk of your car, Bradley knows he needs to take his shot now — or as Hangman likes to tell him, he needs to get off his perch.

“Hey, could I possibly get your number?” Bradley asks, trying to sound as confident as his voice can possibly muster. “I’d love to see you again.”

Caroline pipes up from next to you, jumping up and down while she still holds your hand. “Me too!”

Is he asking you out? The breathless laugh you let out is one of shock, and you’re sure the look on your face matches as you glance between the adorable father-daughter duo.

You’re also sure that you’re blushing again.

For a moment, you can only stand frozen, lips parted, and when you realize you’ve yet to answer his question, you promptly close your mouth and attempt to school your features, quickly nodding your head.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You tell him shyly, and Bradley can’t help but smirk at the color that’s begun to paint your cheeks. 

He hands over his phone and tries not to smile too hard as you type in your number, glancing up at him and biting back your own grin while you send yourself a text so that you’d have his too.

You kneel down to squeeze Caroline into a hug, the little girl happily wrapping her arms around your neck. You leave her with a promise that you’ll see them again soon, though the way you look up at her father over her shoulder lets Bradley know that that promise is directed at the both of them. 

When you stand, Bradley gazes at you with a thoughtful smile before bringing you into a hug too.

“Have a good night, sweetheart.” The deep rumble of his voice so close to your ear, as well as the heat of his touch, leave your body feeling warm all over. That warmth never fading even as you watch Bradley and Caroline cross the parking lot, hand-in-hand, to get to their car.

Yeah, you definitely wouldn’t mind seeing him again soon. 

- - -

Thank you for reading! Leave a comment/reblog if you enjoyed, feedback is always appreciated! x

Part 2 will be up next Wednesday! <3

UPDATE: you can read part two here ! ❤️

tag list: @wkndwlff @sebsxphia @chaoticassidy @dempy @ohgodnotagainn @shanimallina87 @mavrellover91 @memoriesat30 @that-bitch-bri @classyunknownlover @hisredheadedgoddess28 @foreverrandomwritings @lt-spork @princess76179 @gigisimsonmars @kidd3ath @averyhotchner @sammyrenae68 @tv-fanatic18 @one-sweet-gubler @simonscumsock

also tagging some people who reblogged/replied to the sneak peek : @fanficfandomlove @hangmanssunnies @milestomaverick @maverick-wingman @teacupsandtopgun @katiemcrae @colourfulsuitwonderland @becks-things @bradshawsbaddie @bradshawsbitch @valhallaas @roger-that-cap @woodkiller

. . .

#bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x y/n #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #top gun fic #miles teller #dad bradley #single dad bradley #my writing

[shurisneakers]

unsolved (iii)

Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)

Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky at his little shit supreme, obnoxious reader, cryptids, graveyards

A/N: good evening. i am fighting demons (tummy ache). comments and feedback are always appreciated thank u for the love on the series so far i adore u guys sm <;33

Previous part || Series masterlist

A few days after the first video goes up, Bucky returns from his run to a SHIELD file taped to his door.  

He opens to a black and white photo of him from back in the day, and a page full of his details. Full name, blood group, previous addresses, aliases, best colours to match his undertone, favourite Gilmore Girl boyfriend. 

He flips the page to the section on his known connections, only for a sheet of paper to fall out. Sharpie sprawled haphazardly across it, in big red letters. 

NO AUNT. 

BITCH.

He bites back a grin.

The video does reasonably well. Not record breaking numbers or anything, but for once there aren’t TikToks of people counting how many times he blinks to make sure he’s an actual human. 

Always a man of his word, though he has regretted it every single time, he agrees to a second video. It follows after a disgraceful bout of bitching and even pleading, but a few hours later, he resigns himself to his fate silently. 

That is until the schedule for the next video shoot is posted to the server, and he sees it’s at night. 

The night he uses to sleep. The night.

Before he can even type out his rejection, his door receives four sharp knocks. He doesn’t even need to open it to know who it was.  

It’s like you could read his thoughts. Probably could. He doesn’t know the extent of your telekinesis. 

In your hands is a large cardboard box and on your face is a stupidly big grin. 

“Good evening,” you greet. 

“Tell me the show’s getting cancelled,” he says. 

“Nope. We–” you announce, reaching into the box and shoving something onto his chest, “--are going on a trip. Demon hunting.”

“Demon hunting?” 

“To Westley Cemetery,” you add, letting the box tumble onto the floor as you grip its contents. “To catch the Westley Cemetery Cryptid.”

“What the hell is the Westley Cemetery Cryptid?” Bucky demands.

“Creature that lives in the cemetery, watches people from the trees and runs after you if you’re there too long. No known kills, but a couple of scratches and spooks,” you list off. 

His face twists. “That’s not a real thing.”

“Uh, yes it is.” You rest a hand on your hip. “My sources told me so.”

“Who are your sources?”

“Twitter.”

Bucky stares at you without a word.

“It’s totally real. It’s got a Wikia page and everything,” you argue against his complete silence. “I believe in it.”

“That means nothing.”

“Rude.” You glare pointedly. “Anyway, point is, we’re going out tonight to the cemetery and we’re gonna catch this thing on tape.”

Bucky tracks your gaze to finally look down at what you’ve shoved into his hands. It’s a headband, with two cameras attached to it, one facing your face and the other outward. Night vision, he guesses. 

He sighs. “How long? An hour?” 

“Was Hamlet written in an hour? Was Sharknado filmed in an hour?” you exclaim. “Great art takes time. We’re staying out there as long as we need to. So help me, we will emerge victorious.”

Bucky stares at you. “Two hours.”

“Seven.”

“Thirty minutes.”

“Your will is weak and your spirit is cowardly.” You return his fixed look with equal intensity, if not more, which he didn't think was possible. “Three hours.”

“Deal.”

“Great.” You stick your hand out, and he grabs on firmly. “See you at 1am.”

“1am?!”

It is 1am, it is cold and Bucky is miserable. 

But he’s there. In the cemetery. With the stupid camera rig on his head. 

You offer him whiskey to warm him up, and he agrees. 

You then tell him you don’t actually have any because you didn’t think he’d accept.

He hates it here.

The wind whistles around the both of you. The eerie silence is only compounded by the fact that he can’t see anything beyond a certain point. The night is especially dark and there is no moonlight.

He trudges through the patchy grass, dry leaves crunching under his boots.

The camera being so close to his face along with the fact that you wouldn’t stop singing the same three fucking lines of the song over and over again, makes him want to tear his hair out.

“That thing’s not gonna get near us if you don’t shut up,” he grumbles.

“Nonsense,” you hum. “I’m a goddamn delight. He’s gonna be trippin’ over himself to get to me.”

“He doesn’t exist.”

“He definitely does, and you know what? I bet your shit vibes are gonna attract him. Moth to flame and all that. Karmic justice.” 

Bucky stares straight ahead, swerving to avoid running into cracked tombstones. 

You go back to singing, but worse this time. 

“What if we don’t get anything?” he interrupts, to protect his sanity. “No one wants to watch a bunch of people just walk around the dark for 20 minutes.”

There’s no response. 

It takes a second for Bucky to realise the singing’s stopped too.

He stops in his tracks, head swivelling to look for you.

“The fuck…” he mutters. 

In the cemetery, he is truly alone for a moment. Silent, other than wrought iron gates creaking in the far distance. 

The leaves of the tree above him rustle.

Bucky looks up, squinting against the darkness. 

Against the stillness of the night, he sees it. A figure stands tall on the branches of the tree, silhouette obscured by the leaves. 

It leers down at him, unmoving.

Bucky doesn’t even flinch.

“Very funny,” he says. “Hilarious.”

“We’ll fake it,” the figure calls from above. “If we don’t get any footage, I’ll just get on up there and fuck around and you record.”

“Get down,” he demands. “We’re not faking footage.”

If this show had to die this way, so be it.

“Bore,” you boo, lowering yourself to the ground with ease. “If I didn't know any better, I’d say you don’t want to be a part of this series.”

“I don’t.”

“Anyway,” you say obnoxiously, “we won’t have to. There is definitely a cryptid here. I can feel it in my bones.”

“We’re halfway through the graveyard and there’s nothing here,” he shoots back. “We should call it quits.”

“You’re right,” you say, to his surprise. “We need to cover more ground. Let’s split up.”

That is most definitely not what he was saying.

But you start singing again and so Bucky agrees faster than you finish the same stupid third line for the hundredth time that hour.

Bucky is a man of dignity.

Less than five minutes later, he gives up.

He takes a seat against the trunk of a tall tree, in a relatively open clearing. 

He figures if he just takes a nap then the two hours would pass by quicker. 

Bucky has no idea where you’ve gone. The lack of light doesn’t help, even with his advanced vision. 

He crosses his arms behind his head and settles back, eyes closing. 

Not even a second later, he wants to rip his hair out when the stupid song you were singing reintroduces itself in his head.

“For fuck’s sake,” he groans. 

The tree he’s leaning against shifts ever so slightly.

His eyes fly open, but he doesn’t move an inch.

Instinctually, his breathing slows and his ears tune in to pick up even the faintest sounds.

The draft whispers, and he knows for a fact that something is above him.

A branch cracks. 

“Go away,” Bucky says loudly. 

A second passes. 

And then another. 

“You’re supposed to be looking for the thing,” you shout.

“It’ll find me if it wants to.” He shifts to make himself more comfortable. “I’m givin’ him a real shot here.” 

“You didn’t even look up.”

“Didn’t have to.”

“He could have been above you.”

“But he wasn’t.” Bucky’s eyes close again. 

“You’re terrible.” It comes back muffled, and branches shift. “I’m headin’ that way. One of us has to put some effort into this.”

“Joy. Knock yourself out.”

The trunk moves under his muscles again and Bucky lets out a small exhale, settling back into the position he was in.

Until he hears you singing in the distance. Same three lines, same off-key tune.

Bucky drags his palm across his face. 

An hour passes. 

Unlike his original plan, he does not sleep.

He instead recounts every element he remembers from the periodic table. 

Replays every Dodgers game from his childhood, and then gets mad at their shift. 

Then he tries to recollect every fact he knows about you so far. Mutant, captured and experimented on, broke free several years before him. Met Nat along the way and befriended her. Telekinesis, slowed aging. Escape artist. Wedding videographer. Allegedly.

He just doesn’t get how you’re so goddamn chirpy all the time, given that he’d been through something similar and come out the way he had. 

It had taken him a month to say anything to anyone other than Steve. You went out for brunch with Sam the same weekend you showed up at the compound.

He doesn’t get you.

Speaking of which, he hasn’t actually seen you in a while. 

He checks the time on his watch. Nearly 3am.

He had a fucking workout in the morning and no lizard-man was going to be the cause for Steve outrunning him.

He pushes himself off the ground with a groan, and stretches out his sore limbs. Definitely too old for lying around a cemetery beyond midnight.

He calls out your name loudly, and then again, before waiting. 

He hears bells ringing in the distance. 

Bucky looks up.

In the shadows of the trees, he comes face to face with the same sight as before. A figure, standing on the branches.  

“There’s nothing here,” he calls out, sighing. “Can we just leave?”

The twigs creek, and for a second he thinks you’re going to fall. 

“Already told you I’m not faking footage, get down from there,” he repeats. “I’m leaving. I’ll see you at the gate.”

The leaves shuffle around before he hears branches break. 

Something you say gets obscured by your movement, but you disappear again. He thinks that maybe you were cursing him out, and deservedly so. He just couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

He rolls his eyes, but starts making his way to the entrance of the graveyard.

The walk back is faster, and he holds back a yawn as the gates start creeping up on the horizon. 

There’s no sign of you. He half thinks you ditched him here and went back to the compound. Or fell off the tree and were just laying there. 

But he decides to wait, leaning against the exposed concrete wall. 

Eyes closed, he rubs his temples and decides that if you’re not here in the next thirty seconds, he’ll just–

“Hey,” you greeet from right in front of him.

“Where the hell did you go?” he demands. 

You blink at him, before holding up a wrapper. 

“Got a sandwich. I was hungry. The diner was real nice too, I spent like half an hour talkin’ to the owner.”

He stares at you. “You just left to get a sandwich?”

“Yeah, and I got you one, too,” you reply, tossing him a paper bag. “You’re welcome. God bless that man, but those things aren’t cheap.”

“You’ve not been here for the last half hour?”  

“I mean, I spent like ten minutes looking.” You shrug, taking another bite. “All I got was a bunch of grass.”

Ten minutes. Bucky had sat under the stupid tree for an hour. 

“So you just left,” he says dryly.

“Yes,” you reply like it’s not even worth debating. “Besides, if anyone could find a cryptid it’d be you. A fellow cryptid.”

Bucky spins on his heel to leave.

“You’re welcome for dinner,” you call out, and he can hear you laugh.

He flips you the finger, and regrets it a second later when your singing resumes.

The sandwich is good. He appreciates it.

He even manages to keep pace with Steve the next morning. 

What he doesn’t appreciate is coming back to fifteen missed calls and four video calls from you.

From: co-host (TGS)

can you pick up 

From: co-host (TGS)

i know you have nothing going on in your life you are bitchless

Bucky switches off his phone for the next three hours. 

Finally, it’s a threat that you will show up at his door again and Bucky finally video calls you back that evening. 

“What,” he states.

“Took you long enough,” you huff, sitting up to adjust the camera. In the middle of the ordeal, Bucky sees your laptop open.

“What do you want?” he repeats.

“The team sent over the videos from last night,” you tell him. “At some point in the video you said ‘we’re not faking footage, get down from there.”

“Yeah.”

He hears you play the footage faintly in the background, almost to substantiate your point. He cringes at the sound of his own voice.  

“Who were you talking to?” 

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Heard you in the trees. Figured you climbed up there again.”

“Ah.” You click your tongue. “Interesting.”

“What.”

You hum. “See, that wasn’t me.”

Bucky’s eyes narrow. “Yes, it was.”

“No, it wasn’t,” you say calmly. “I’d left to get dinner way before all that.”

“Right.”

“I’m serious. Got the timestamp on my video to prove it.” You look up at him through the camera finally. “So who were you actually talking to, Barnes?”

Bucky’s nose twitches.

“Bye,” he says shortly.

“Dude,” he hears you laugh loudly through the phone. “I fuckin’ told you you’d attract these things, you–”

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing!

to keep up with updates for this fic and others, please follow @shurisneakersupdates and turn on post notifications!

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #unsolved fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

[luviemax]

karma! (begin again part 3)

a/n: last part maybe??? idk... anyway here's song inspo -> oscar piastri x female!reader, ex!carlos sainz x reader, reader doesn't have a faceclaim

warnings: for plot's sake let's just pretend the mclaren in the earlier part of the season wasn't garbage... major irl divergence ig, logan being soooo america luver, logan being a great wingman :), more plot than being a smau... be forwarned, lily erasure... i'm so sorry i love her, all pics frm pinterest

part one, part two

masterlist

"Are you sure you don't want to walk in with me?" Oscar asks you. Again. It's the weekend of the Miami Grand Prix, after the break following the Azerbaijan race. Oscar seems to be excited to get back on track, especially with you accompanying him to the race. "Oscar," you begin. "Yes?" he gives you a cheeky smile. "If you ask me one more time I think I might just smack you." "Noted." Oscar barely has time to respond before Logan is bursting through the doors of the hotel room.

"Home race baby!!!" Logan announces, plopping himself onto Oscar's unmade bed. "You seem to be..." You take a moment to find the words, "jubilant." "Hell yeah!" he smiles, "red white and blue baby!" Oscar simply gives him a brief glance with a quirked eyebrow over his shoulder. "Whatever. Let's get some lunch," Oscar grabs the keycard from the bedside table and opens the door for you, "ladies first." "What a gentleman," you tease as Logan follows closely behind you, "what're we eating?" "Burger," Logan states. There isn't any debate from you or Oscar, "but please don't tell my trainer..."

As the three of you approach the restaurant, Logan insists that you sit with Oscar, which is odd as he typically likes to sit next to you. Oscar told you that he had come clean to Logan about the whole fake-dating situation, and apparently, Logan had taken it quite well, and was completely on-board with the whole "get revenge against Carlos!!" campaign.

The three of you eat in a relative, comfortable silence. It's something that comes after so many years of friendship. "We better head to the paddock now." Oscar states, slapping his hands on his knees. "Roger that. See y'all on the paddock." Logan waves, making his way out. "Wait... how's he gonna get there? Didn't he come with us..?" You make a perplexed face at Oscar, eyebrows furrowing with concern. "Ah, it's fine," Oscar waves your concerns off, "don't worry yourself about him, love." For some reason, despite you swearing that you and Oscar's relationship was purely platonic, the pet name he'd used for you set ablaze a slow, yet surely burning flame in your stomach. Nevertheless, you just ignore your feelings, because the two of you are just friends, right?

logansargeant has posted!

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 93,194 others

logansargeant: home grand prix LET'S GOOOOOO!!!!

yourusername: good luck king -> oscarpiastri: what about me ☹️ -> yourusername: good luck oscar :) -> oscarpiastri: oh thanks!! -> logansargeant: please take this out of my comment section

user1: LOGAN WHO ARE THE PEOPLE ON THE SECOND SLIDE?? -> user2: he knows something we don't... -> user3: he knows something that we'll never know.... -> logansargeant liked a comment!

"Seriously? Are you kidding me?" your outrage is apparent from the tone in your voice. "I'm sorry ma'am. If your pass doesn't work, I can't let you in." The security guard gave you a pitiful, close lipped smile. "Okay then, that's fine." Perhaps a little too passive aggressively. Yes, you were frustrated. But then again, at least he's doing his job properly? You pulled out your phone from your bag, and dialled Oscar's number. Almost immediately, after 2 rings, he picks up the call. "Hey, what's up?" "They aren't letting me in. I think there's something wrong with the pass." You informed him, and you can hear a little shuffling from his end. "I'm on my way."

You let out a silent sigh of relief when you see Oscar's familar figure approaching the security guard. "Hey mate, I think there's been a misunderstanding. She's with me." Before the guard can even respond to Oscar, he gently grabs your hand, interlocks your fingers with yours, and taps his pass on the reader to let you into the paddock. As soon as the two of you step into the paddock, you hear the unmistakable click of cameras flashing. Fuck.

f1wagsupdates has posted!

13,345 likes

f1wagsupdates: McLaren driver, Oscar Piastri, is seen with longtime friend Y/N Y/L/N months after her split with Ferrari driver, Carlos Sainz! This is the first time we've seen Y/N on the paddock with Oscar. I suppose that the 'mystery man' in her soft launches on her instagram page is no longer a mystery!

user1: huhhh

user2: #unexpected

user3: isn't this kinda an invasion of privacy... -> yourusername liked this comment!

Carlos is fuming. He swears that he's about to combust. He was having a... decent day. He was starting at P3, which was somewhat decent. Could've been better, could've been worse. Then, he's scrolling through Instagram in his driver room, and the post he sees makes his stomach drop. How could you move on so quickly? Not only that, but shove it in his face too by coming to the paddock? It'd been short of 2 months since the two of you split. Yeah, maybe he'd moved on himself, but it wasn't the same. He'd been seeing the girl for something like 5 months now. Nevertheless, how could you have moved on so quickly? His mind was racing. It feels like salt in the wound when he sees the TV stream pane to you in the McLaren garage. Y/N Y/L/N, Oscar Piastri's partner. He feels rage churn in his stomach, how could Oscar steal what was his? But he no longer has time to muse. It's time to race.

"It's lights out and away we go at the Miami Grand Prix!" Crofty's voice filled the garage, the raw enthusiasm and passion in his voice made apparent from the volume of his voice. "Carlos Sainz gets off to a poor start!" Martin Brundle exclaims, a hint of a wince in his voice for what could've been, "Oscar Piastri, on the other hand, is absolutely flying! The rookie gets off to an excellent start, overtaking everyone, climbing to the 6th position! Ahead of him is Carlos Sainz, with the gap between them being 5 seconds."

Everything is relatively peaceful, up until lap 15. Max has worked himself up to the first position, and really, is anyone shocked? However, the gap between Carlos and Oscar becomes smaller and smaller, and truthfully, you're kind of nervous for the inevitable.

"And-" Crofty begins, "Oof!" Crofty and Brundle both wince at the same time. Audibly, there's a loud screech from Mark Webber in the background. "Oscar Piastri attempts to take the inside line but Carlos Sainz doesn't relent! And Sainz pushes Piastri into the gravel, and Piastri spins off the track into the barrier! That looks like race over for Piastri. The race stewards are now investigating the incident." "Are you ******* kidding me?" Oscar scoffs, bewilderment apparent in his voice through the radio. "What is this idiot trying to do?" Carlos yells over the radio, accent thick and upset.

Crofty's voice is drowned out by the sheer panic that you feel. Is Oscar okay? You attempt to ask the McLaren pit crew, but all of them seem too preoccupied with the recent news of the collision, and they look to be equally as preturbed as you. However, in a moment of pure relief, you see Oscar climbing out of the car, seeming unharmed. He gets into the Medical Car, presumably on the way back to the garage. A Safety Car is called to the rest of the remaining drivers. "And that is a 5 second penalty to Sainz, presumably served in the pits if Ferarri makes a good call." Brundle states, with a hint of sass in his voice. Obviously, he was quite tired of Ferarri's shennanigans.

You hold your breath as the Medical Car approaches the McLaren garage. Oscar climbs out, looking relatively unharmed. Only angry. He storms into the garage, rapidly approaching your direction. He grabs your arm and drags you into his Driver's Room.

"Oscar-" your worry is drowned out when he slams the door of his Driver's Room and presses his lips onto yours. The kiss is sudden. Rough. Angry, even. But Oscar's always been cool. Calm, even. But there's nothing cool or calm about this kiss. It's filled with fire and passion. It makes you flush and blood flows to your cheeks. When the two of you part, you're both breathing heavily, and he pulls you into his chest. His arms are warm and he swears that he was made to hold you. He drags you onto the sofa, and instinctively, you crave the warmth of his body and curl into his side, peering up at him, quite shyly.

"Hit your head too hard?" You tease, stroking his face gently with your fingers. "If anything, it only brought me to my senses," He strokes your hair, making you croon with satisfaction. The tone of the room begins to shift, "You were made for me, you know that?" You say nothing in retaliation. You're speechless, but not in a bad way. "When I spun out, I thought of you. Who takes care of Y/N if I get hurt?" Oscar muses, peering down at you lovingly. "Hmm... I think Logan wouldn't mind filling your shoes...." You tease. "Hey, I'll kick you out." Oscar retaliates, but begins talking seriously again, "Every day, I wake up, and my first thought is you." "Did you crash into Carlos as revenge for me?" You chuckle. "Hey, if anything, he crashed into me. I swear, he has a vendetta against me. But just so you know, I'd go down defending your honour." "So cheesy," you hum, running your fingers through the short strands of his hair, "If anything, I'd be mad too. You pried his girl from his hands and made her heart yours."

yourusername has posted!

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 528,103 others

yourusername: karma is the guy of my dreams coming straight home to me!!!

oscarpiastri: do you know that girl? she's so gorgeous -> yourusername: idk but that guy is really hot -> logansargeant: guys ur so gross (this is adorable i've been manifesting this since i was like 12)

landonorris: congrats on the catch oscarpiastri 😔 -> oscarpiastri: ikr

user1: HARDLAUNCCHHHHHHH

oscarpiastri has posted!

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 715,391 others

oscarpiastri: a dissapointing end to today's race, but at least i've got my girl with me &lt;3

yourusername: oscar you're too sweet 😭 -> oscarpiastri: you're the best &lt;3

logansargeant: ewwww (you guys are the most adorable couple i've ever seen) -> oscarpiastri liked this comment!

fredrickvesti: omg

logansargeant has posted!

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 412,294 others

logansargeant: guys. i was literally MADE for this day. like. anyway... here's the compilation of pictures i've collected from over the years 😇

oscarpiastri: i had no idea you took these... -> logansargeant: of course you didn't you were too busy paying attention to her

yourusername: omg these are sooo cute -> logansargeant: ikr

user1: omg couple goals 😭

user2: sleeping on the street tonight.

user3: oscar and y/n please adopt me

private chat: carlos sainz:

carlos sainz: y/n, are you fucking serious????

you: she can't come to the phone right now. she's busy.

this contact has been blocked!

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #op81 #oscar piastri smut #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #cs55 #carlos sainz smut #f1 x reader

[chrollohearttags]

i love musician eren and his influencer wife !!!!! we need more content abt eren being jealous 😜

you know what? This is too cute because spoiler alert: Mr. Jaeger is very jealous when it comes to miss (y/n). And not in a possessive, toxic way but in the most adorable, bratty way.

imagine doing a photo shoot or starring in the music video of another artist, or just in general and someone having their hands on you for any given reason…he would not be happy! I mean, a brown ass man, full blown pouting about the fact that someone held you or put a kiss on your cheek. You come home and he’s on the couch, arms folded across his chest with lip stuck out like a child. He asks you how your day went and you can tell something’s wrong but he’s trying to be cool about it! “You looked pretty today.” Or “..you looked real good in that video.” All the while, he won’t even look you in the eye. It’s so sad, it’s almost cute! So you start scrolling through other pictures and you happen to land on one with another artist hugging you. And finally, you realize what’s wrong. “Oh my gosh, baby. You’re jealoussss, that’s so cute!” Of course he denies it though and dismisses you! Waving you away when you try to kiss him and acting all bratty. “I’m not jealous, I just don’t understand why he’s all on you like that. Fuck is his problem?” He knows he can’t stop you from your grind, hell, it’s what he finds most attractive about you so he just tries to play it off. But God forbid, he scrolls the comment section and sees ball players and other rappers trying to spit game under your newest post in a bikini or some skimpy dress where you’re twerking and oh my gosh, all hell is about to break loose. “Can your man fight?” And he’s quick to respond. “Yeah and I shoot too. Don’t die behind that one.” Just out of control.

or when you decide to come home after a long day and he’s been in the house, missing you, watching your story and seeing other men in the mentions or trying to get near you..he most certainly likes to take his frustrations out. You don’t notice until things get more intense but that sex hits a little differently when he’s mad. The two of you start making out and he puts his hand around your throat, sucking on your tongue, kissing on your neck and nipples ..just trying to drive you crazy. Trying to rip you up out your clothes, forcing your legs open; he’s doing everything that you love. Ask him what’s gotten into him and he answers so aggressively. “I missed you..looking so fucking good today.” Angry about the fact that someone else was all up on his baby (y/n). So he has a little something to prove. And he doesn’t slow up. He eats you out for nearly an hour as revenge for being away from him. Barely even speaks but you hear him moaning against your mound, constantly sucking on your clit and making you come. “Babeeee, I can’t take it.” You can beg all you want but this is all his and he’ll eat until he’s satisfied. Pinning your legs back and fucking like he’s trying to have you out of commission for a few days. Tearing your shit UP. His hand on the headboard, standing up in it while he’s pounding you. Giving you the greatest dick ever. “Why are you fucking me like thissss?” Whining while you try to push at his abs but he just slaps your hands away and hisses at you. “It’s mine so I’ll do what I want..this my pussy, right? Tell me..” And he knows the answer but he needs the validation..to know that no one could ever take his place!

#black fem reader #aot x black reader #eren x black fem!reader #musician eren #musician x influencer au #musician au #black reader smut #black reader #black fanfiction #black fanfic writer #smut fanfiction #eren #eren x black reader #eren jeager smut #shingeki no kyoujin eren #eren x black y/n #eren x reader #eren aot #eren yeager x y/n #eren headcanons #eren imagines #eren jaeger imagines #eren jaeger x black fem reader #eren yeager x reader #attack on titan eren #eren yeager x black reader #eren yeager headcanons #eren jaeger headcanons #aot eren #cherry’s asks 🍒

[spatialwave]

jordan taking care of a sick marie. (can supes get a cold?? idk… anyways 🩵) word count: 819

-

autumn had hit godolkin with a vengeance, the trees were pretty and the air left a chill on exposed skin. it was beautiful. what wasn’t beautiful was a cold going around that was hitting some of the students.

they weren’t sure why it was hitting some and not others, but jordan didn’t really care about that. they managed to dodge and weave the bug going around — they were much too busy to get sick.

that wasn’t the case for marie though.

jordan had sent a text to marie earlier that morning, asking where she was. it was unlike her to not meet in the common area of the crimefighting building, it was jordan’s turn to buy them a morning coffee that saturday before they had to do some work as a t.a.

frustrated after a third missed text, jordan held onto the two coffees with a tight grip and began walking out into the open space of the campus with an intense demeanour. you would think that someone pissed them off.

that’s when they saw emma, their brown eyes widening as they called out, “emma! where the hell is marie?” they asked, lowering their voice in the last sentence as they hustled in her direction.

the blonde looked over at them, having been fully absorbed in the comment section of her most recent upload. she blinked a few times as she watched jordan walking towards her with ferocity, needing to look up just the slightest due to jordan’s height in their male form.

“hey, hey,” she raised her hands, “just because i’m her roommate doesn’t mean i have to be her messenger,” she teased, but jordan’s face reminded her that they weren’t one to mess with, “jesus, dude. she’s got that cold going around. be careful in there, it’s hazardous!” she had to call the last part out because jordan had already started walking away.

with a racing heart and clammy hands, jordan pushed their way past students until they reached the dormitories. the path to marie’s dorm room was one they memorized, taking less then a couple minutes before they were using their foot to kick a few thumps against the door.

“marie?” they called out, putting their ear to the door and giving awkward, tight lipped smiles to students walking by and looking with interest.

“it’s open.” spoke a weak voice from the other side of the door, muffled and cracking. oh god.

jordan had to handle the two coffees in one hand as they opened the door, eyes widening when they saw marie in her bed. she was laying on her side, brown eyes glazed over and a bit red. she coughed, cringing at the pain.

“fuck, marie, why didn’t you text me?” jordan asked her, using their foot to shut the door behind them. as they walked closer to her, their form switched into their female body, expression softening.

“too tired to look at my phone.” she croaked, trying to sit up, but jordan quickly shook their head.

“don’t move. just rest,” they assured her, placing the coffees on the table between the two beds. they turned their attention to her, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching out with a gentle hand so they could press the back of it to her cheeks, then her forehead, “you’re burning up.” they murmured, frowning.

"is that bad?" she asked, having grown up in a facility, she wasn't used to being sick. maybe once or twice as a teenager. she'd forgotten how awful it felt, how it made your bones ache and your throat feel like it was coated in needles.

"you'll be okay." jordan's voice was full of care as they smiled, wiping some budding sweat off of marie's forehead, "might feel like shit for a couple days, but you'll be okay. i promise." marie gave a weak smile up to jordan, already feeling better in their presence. "i don't want to get you sick."

"who cares?" they quipped back,” let me take care of you." marie didn't answer back, she only nodded.

jordan did exactly what they said they would. they took the day off from their t.a. work and ran around grabbing everything they could find after googling 'cold remedies': chicken noodle soup, orange juice, cold and flu medicine, lozenges, hot tea and a fuck ton of water bottles.

it wasn't until sunday night that marie began feeling better, able to sit up in her bed with jordan as they watched some stupid vought romcom. their hands were intertwined, jordan's hand a bit larger than her own as they held her against their side close to keep her warm.

"thank you." marie whispered, tilting her head back to look up at jordan with a tiny smile. jordan's lips cracked into a smile as they met her gaze, answering with a kiss to her forehead and a gentle squeeze of her hand.

#limoreau #jordan li x marie moreau #jordan li #marie moreau #gen v #idk why i get the ick sometimes when i clarify which form they’re in??? #i find it nice leaving it up to y’all to imagine them in your own way #but idk... i think its cute that jordan would start to be more comfortable around marie in their female form.... im crying #this may be my last post today i am actually very sick skfkdkdk #wordsbyspatial

[etheries1015]

BOOK 7 SPOILERS BELOW

I finally decided to suck it up and catch up with twst book 7, I stopped after seeing Silver cry because I'm sCARED OF BEING SAD 😭😭 anyway here's a few reactions I had to it 😭

And hearing about the update coming soon-ish to ENG servers I really need to read up

Lilia pressuring Epel like the old man he is 😭😭 I love the moments that they remind us just how old Lilia actually is and how he sees most if not all the students as if they were his children/grand children, making sure they get the most out of the party and drink...its giving "What do you mean you're not hungry? Absolutely not. Here Is at least 5 servings of whatever dish I made to help u grow big and strong."

Okay I didn't take a screen shot of it but the entire section where Lilia looked kind of guilty with Ortho about exchanging addresses because you just KNOW he probably isn't gonna check in, presumably because he doesn't want anyone to get More attached to him seeing as he is nearing the end of his life span (crying shaking throwing up)

THIS. THIS. THIS INTERACTION HE HAD WITH US. I LOVE HIM. I AM SO SILLY FOR HIM. I totally forgot I changed my in-game name from my nickname to my REAL name and when he said my name I verbally yelled "WHAT THE HELL" before giggling and kicking my feet hehehehe I'm clinically insane for him

But the fact that he acknowledged us as Malleus friend probably means we've spent a lot of time at the dorms or around Lilia for him to see how our friendship and interactions with him work, and it melts my heart hehe. Being part of the diafam fr. But honestly bro back me up, I'm tired of being called a hench-human 😭💀

I wonder just how bad we must look with everyone noticing the strange shift??? Either we REALLY made a scene (tripping over, going pale) or the twst boys are just that attentive to us and I think that is the sweetest thing ever 😭😭 Ace and Deuce is so sweet for thinking of us and trying to get us out while also being polite to the people who kindly held the party. Despite not being there long, ace and deuce is willing to skip out on free food and drinks in order to make sure you're okay and I'm just 😭😭 ANGELS. I LOVE THEM.

But also the way Lilia worries for you is so sweet 😭💜 I should write a fic of sick reader and Lilia, or reader trying to tough it out because I know for a FACT Lilia would not let that slide! (Hypocrite 😐)

I ACTUALLY DROPPED MY JAW WHEN SEBEK SAID THIS SHIT. I WAS. WHAT. WHAT THE HELL LMFAOOOOO 😭 thats fucking insane bro I actually found myself chastising him thru the phone, I would NOT let that discrimination against humans bullshit pass fr 😭 slap him right upside the head and give him a stern talking to. I like seeing Lilia get frustrated, he's so cute and UGH. Although it went in one ear out the other, Seeing Lilia mad is so hot if I'm being real with y'all rn BUAHAHA.

I didnt screen shot this either (and I can't fit anymore photos on this post smh) but Silvers nose being red and obvious he was crying but Lilia confused. DudE OF COURSE he was crying!!! You're his dad!! You raised him since he was a baby, he's just now going into adulthood and doing that WITHOUT HIS DAD who is going to a far away land! Sure, traveling is a thing , but honestly nothing beats having that support just a moments away. Silver is literally the sweetest and wants to support his dad , but who's going to support him????!?! Lilia is putting him in a position where Silver feels the need to be strong and hide his tears for Lilias sake, but of course this is hard on him, its so sudden, too! Being so close to your parent and next thing you know mere days later they are stripped away from your arms?!

I just want to give them all hugs. Lilia obviously has some issues and misconstrued ideas of love (a million people have made posts and comments on this, so I will not repeat it) and I just. Need them to all sit around and be their mediator while we go thru their emotional states.

Ugh. I was in my twst burnout stage and still low key am, but fuck does it spark so much passion in you 😭😭

#twisted wonderland #etheries rants💜✨ #Twisted wonderland book 7 #diasomnia #twst #lilia vanrouge #malleus draconia #sebek zigvolt #silver vanrouge

[t4le-4s-0ld-4s-t1m3]

So I'm on youtube, looking for reviews of Damsel because I loved it and wanted to find a comment section with like-minded people. Only I never ended up participating in any discussions. Oh there were a bunch a reviews, some of them positive. But I got distracted by the overwhelming amount of reviews made by middle-aged white men with horrible titles.

Now did I expect everyone to like it ? No, of course not, taste is subjective. Do I think the movie is perfect ? No, it's a B-movie if we're being honest, the plot is very basic and there is not a lot of depth, though I think there is more than meets the eye. It's a power fantasy movie, with all the suspension of disbelief and fun that entails. A turn your brain off, you leave feeling badass kind of movie.

All the same, the heartbreak and frustration I feel after clicking on a few of them, watching about a minute, and going through the comment sections is immeasurable. Because the commentary was always the same, "this is anti-white men" (media literacy is dead by the way, because how ? How was that a conclusion ?), "hollywood pushing the girlboss agenda", "worse movie ever", "why do all female protagonists have to be strong, why can't they be soft", "feminists and their anti-marriage propaganda". Guys, I don't know if it's just because I'm in my mid-twenties now, or because more men have become radicalised, or both. But I am so, so tired of this shit. So tired of feeling like some men want to put me in a very small box and keep me there because they feel entitled to it. And I'm by no means someone who doesn't largely fit in the mould to begin with. I'm a girly-girly with no desire to act like a man or fight like one. I appreciate book Sansa Stark so much for the symbol of soft power that she is, and I do agree that there should be more women like her in fiction. But that these men feel not only comfortable, but entitled to throw so many tantrums trying to shame and force me to never stray from the mould, and watch as they do the same to women who do not and should not have to fit into it, more and more grating. Why can't we have power fantasy movies ? Why does it make them so angry ? I've never seen their power fantasy movies get dunked on. Hell, we usely enjoy them alongside them. Why can't they do the same ? Why must everything targeted at us be something for them to ridicule ?

And do you know what the worse part is ? While watching the movie, I caught myself thinking "most of this isn't unrealistic for a fit woman with magical healing slugs, she only really survives because the dragon is sadistic and enjoys prolonging her suffering, surely the filmbros won't get too annoying". I already knew on some level what was going to happen, because it's what always happens isn't it ? I wast just too hopeful it seems.

#damsel netflix #some men exhaust me #millie bobby brown #let women have power fantasies #why we need feminism

[autumnbrambleagain]

Hey I started reading Proselitize three days ago and it's so engrossing and amazing I really have to praise it.

Caves of Qud is a game that really rewards thinking and examination of its contents, and it's so wonderful to see a story engage with that.

Also Annaface is such a wonderful character. I relate deeply to her desire to be Monstrous (I just reached the scene with the skin, and WOW). I'm a disabled trans woman, and I find myself pushing my personal style further when head out to public, because if people are gojng to stare they're going to stare on *my* terms. It's not quite the same, bit i feel a kinship in some ways, you know.

Anyway, you've made some wonderful words.

Live and Drink, water-sib.

Ah thank you thank you thank you! On an increasingly depersonalized internet comments like this are a joy to see still out there in the wild

The main reason I started writing Proselytize in the end is because Qud has so much IN it, and the gameplay only lets you engage with it SO far, and it was frustrating not getting to explore the themes it presented in excessive depth. What does it mean to be friends with the goatfolk and neutral to Mechanimists and see them assault a pilgrim in the jungle? Do you have an obligation to help? How can you even help? Are you the bad person for being friends with them? Or does the occasional stranger die nameless in the jungle, and that's how life goes?

What actually happens, narratively, emotionally, socially, personally, when you fucking slaughter an entire Templar war party and proselytize the least of their squires and take her on adventures with you? How completely fucked up is that person's life from now on? What is this actually going to do for your friendship?

What is the end game of Qud with the game still in early access? What happens to an all-powerful player-character who only has to fear getting caught flatfooted by chrome pyramids or surrounded by sludges? How do you settle down into a world built around violence and harsh faction politics? What do you DO with your infinite power to kill and alter the world? What SHOULD you do with it??

What does it mean to be Weird? Everyone in Qud is weird, radical body autonomy is one of the keywords of the game's design philosophy. I can play as a two-headed, four-armed talking fox-thing and Qud goes "hell yeah here's how that works mechanically for you" and everyone in the game looks at me and goes "yeah that's just another person really." What does it take for people in Qud to think of you as a monster? How do you DEAL with your physical appearance being a site of violence for the people around you?

I could have done a lot more with Annaface facing backlash for how she appears, but 1) this is a fanfiction and it's not my main creative focus, so I didn't want to burn myself out emotionally by going too deep in bad vibes town for it; and 2) Annaface has the special privilege of being the companion of one of the Main Characters. Which brings the other theme I wanted to get into, my favorite theme,

How Fucked Up it is for things like Main Characters to exist. How ontologically terrifying it is for a Main Character to enter the narrative, and how fucked up is it getting swept along with their narrative? What about a Qud stuck in a stalemate between several Main Characters?

We're finally at the Brambled Fae section, who is explicitly a collective of Main Characters who knows it is a Main Character. It is a universe-crossing, intentionally-and-textually-literal-self-insert-Mary-Sue-dimension-parasite that dominates even the narrative of other main characters when it's around. What happens to a fanfiction that gets infested by something like this? What happens to a person when they can save and reload and control multiple characters? What does that mean for the people around it, caught in its fiction?

And yeah wrt trans stuff, my reaction to Qud was "this game is fine" until I got to the Bey Lah questline, which introduces the keywords "trans" "deer" "taur" "lesbian" and the social exploration of basically all of those. The absolute shock that we have a game in tyool 2024 that has trans characters and themes and it's real and genuine and coming from a writer who actually knows what they're talking about and is putting it in out of a genuine desire to have that be part of the world in an earnest and organic way that doesn't feel forced or pandering or just putting the trans flag on some character's bedroom?

I mean, Qud is a game where you can go up to it and say "Hey, I actually want to play as a non-binary multiple system with 10 limbs" and Qud goes "sure, here's the mechanics for how that works, and here's other characters in the game who have the same kind of things you have going on"

For a game to take that, to take the "hey i feel weird in the real world, i want to be weird in a game" and go "yeah same buddy! here's a bunch of other weirdos, only they're basically normal in this universe, have fun"

I flirt with other games, but Morrowind has been the dominant focus for 20 years for me because it lets you just go out there and kind of live a fantasy life. But even then, Morrowind is steeped in the late 90s/early 00s cultural consciousness. It is weird, but it is a very specific kind of weird that doesn't leave a lot of room for acknowledging or being types of weird outside the weird the game wants. Vivec is nonbinary, but the game calls him a hermaphrodite (which, to be fair? in 2002? was a word without nearly as much overwhelming stigma as it has now), and he's the only one actually allowed to be enby. You're still a man or a woman in Morrowind. The weirdest you can get is a cat or a lizard, and you face actual prejudice for it and it's explored textually in plenty of ways, and it's, honestly, a very strong, realistic look at a colonized nation that itself commits acts of colonization and racial aggression and it's still very impressive! But it's intentionally a game that leaves very little space for you as a character, and forces you to carve your space out, and as time goes on I'm increasingly tired of having to fight for my space in a hostile world. The themes of Morrowind are becoming exhausting with legislation everywhere turning against transpeople, again. The themes of Morrowind wrt racism, colonization, and slavery are exhausting 20 years later where we're still seeing racial genocides and the world's reaction is "hmm, sure is a thing huh." It's exhausting being in a game that's so weird, but your weird is only accounted for Up To A Point.

Qud's weird is "yeah that's fine too" and that's just fantastic. I was really hoping there'd be more than 2 games in the past 20 years I could form an emotional connection with, but there we are, I guess! Fanfiction was inevitable at this point; Morrowind has had 20 years of modding to expand it out into something massive and make it the animal crossing with adventure game of my dreams. Qud's had less time baking in the oven at full heat? So. Fanfiction!

#autumn says things

[tatertotsafterdark]

Marking - Scott Howl x Reader

18+ MDNI. READ “CONTAINS” SECTION BEFORE READING.

|| Being a struggling college student sucks. Luckily, your werewolf boyfriend doesn't mind helping you de-stress - even if he gets a little too into it.

CONTAINS: AFAB READER, GIVING!SCOTT, RECEIVING!READER, BITING, MARKING, HICKEYS, OVER THE CLOTHES, NO AFTERCARE, MENTIONS OF MIDTERMS

Word count: 1k

Author’s note: IK I switched this fic from what was planned at the last minute but shhhhh... tried to put some characteristics of the Monster Prom writing style but I don't know how successful that was. Based mainly off the first Monster Prom game. (Ignore how the gif is monster roadtrip okay byeeee have fun reading or don't)

Midterms, midterms, midterms. Jesus fucking Christ. That’s all your life has been for the last few weeks, working on gradually revising your notes and studying for those God forsaken tests, worth a part of your grade that’s way too big. You slam your flat palms onto the desk in your small apartment, giving it a good couple of smacks. You’re frustrated, unable to grasp the topic you’re reading through. Why the hell did you have to take a math class? You hated math. Your major didn’t really use math, either. 

You groan as you hear a knock at the door, lifting yourself on to tired legs. Who visits this late at night, especially when you have a giant sign on your apartment door labeled “DON’T DEAD OPEN INSIDE?” You’d think by now people would catch on to your witty ideas of decoration and lack of availability. Maybe studying for midterms wouldn’t be so hard if you’d stop making interior design into your impromptu passion. 

Your hand quickly twists the knob, without giving much thought to check if there was some kind of evil monster or a serial killer or a Jehovah Witness outside of your door. Luckily, it’s none of those - it’s Scott! You manage a smile as his tail wags, and step aside, nonverbally inviting him inside. You can do that since he’s not a vampire. He quickly enters, wrapping his muscular arms around you.

“Dude, where have you been?!” He yells out, a large and toothy smile plastered on his face. You can practically hear his tail wagging, and you can definitely hear it hitting into his backside as it wags. 

“Studying.” You reply, returning the hug weakly and shuffling back over to the living room, lit only by a singular lamp (setting the aesthetic is an important part of studying, after all). You didn’t realize it until now, but your desk was piled with sticky notes, flashcards, notebooks, highlighters, pens in every color under the sun, and empty energy drink cans.

“Studying? Who even studies anymore?” Scott cocks his head, making that stupid-yet-so-damn-cute face at you like he always did when he was questioning your totally normal decisions. 

“I mean, c’mon, when was the last time you got some sun, bro? Your curtains are never open.” Scott says, a small pout on his lips as he looks down at you. You opt to ignore the comment about your currents, and instead huff and walk over to your desk.

“It doesn’t matter when I last left my apartment or opened the windows or anything like that. What’s important right now is that I teach myself everything my professor has been trying to teach us for the past few weeks.” Your ass hits the office chair a bit hard, which sends it backwards. The back of your chair hits Scott’s front, stopping it in its place. 

“You haven’t even showed up to the gym recently! You’re not getting any exercise.”

“I’m not interested in exercising. I want to pass these dumbass exams, Scott. Plus, there isn’t an exercise in the world that I actually like.” 

“Yes there is, bro, you know that.” 

“Great, Scott, then go ahead and tell me because you definitely know me better than I know myself.” You roll your eyes, and the action could probably be heard just off of the nasty tone you dip down into using. Swapping sleep for caffeine isn’t good for your mood, note to self. 

“Well, Polly says that sex burns calories, so therefore, it’s exercise.” 

You freeze up for a moment, thinking about the implications of the sentence that just slipped out of Scott’s lips. Was he implying that you two-? 

Before you can think much longer, one of Scott’s large hands is slowly massaging your chest, and the other is in between your thighs. He may be a bit academically challenged, but at least he wouldn’t be totally lost in an anatomy class. You can’t help but lean into the touch. It’d been ages since you’d gotten any action, even before you started obsessing over getting good grades on your midterms. Scott’s large fingers rubbing slow circles over your clit is enough to melt your brain, getting it off of finding derivatives, even if it was only for a temporary amount of time. 

“Shit- don’t stop- please.” You manage to get your voice to work in between pathetic squeaks and whimpers, and Scott simply speeds up in response to your words. You close your eyes, soaking in the much needed feeling of human contact. Two of Scott’s fingers find their way to the hard bud that’s developed under your shirt, gently twisting and pinching it as your moans get louder.

He buries his head into the crook of your neck, and before long, you feel fangs on the tender flesh. Love bites are completely welcome, of course, so you don’t complain. You run your fingers through his hair as he finishes you off, giving you much needed release without so much as undressing you.

“There, bro! Now you’ve got your daily workout in. Your studying is going to be way easier now.” Scott says with a proud smile, turning your office chair around to face him. The way his face drops, you can tell he’s totally marked up your entire neck to the point even a turtleneck wouldn’t be enough to hide it. Oh, shit. 

“Well… a workout is exactly what I needed. Thanks, bro.”

“Anytime, dude! Just, uh, make sure you have that color corrector stuff you were talking about the one time.” Scott laughs, turning on his heel and walking to your kitchen. You rub your fingers over the bite marks, and the fact that they’re indented into your skin is enough to tell you that any amount of color corrector wouldn’t be enough anyway. They trail up to just below your ear, so you’ll just have to hide away in your room and study for a few more days until they fade. 

You take a deep breath, turning away from Scott as he opens your fridge, and picking up one of your colorful pens for the umpteenth time that evening. 

#fanfic #fanfiction #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober2023 #x reader #mdni #Scott howl #monster prom #stressed student trope

[justhere4thevibez]

annual writing self-evaluation

thank you @pipergirl17 and @erythromanc3r for tagging me!

1. List of works published this year (in no particular order):

oh gosh, I've been busy-busy this year with fanfic, so here goes!

Complete works:

... And a Hellcheer New Year 

Galentines and Valentines

Hold Onto Me

Devil in the Woods

Every Time I Run, I Run to You

Eddie and Chrissy Go to a Wedding 

Knocking Me Out With Those American Thighs

Cooking Up Something Sweet

Please Don't Say You Love Me

Let Me Start Over Again

You Got Me Good

Be My Breath (Through the Deep, Deep Water)

This Old Man

Do You Wanna Touch Me

My Words Will Be Your Light

She'll See I'm Not So Tough 

She Knows What She Wants

Give Me a Taste

The Right Kind of Sinner

Release My Inner Fantasy

Hooked on a Feeling

Whiskey & Wine

The Graveyard Smash

Long Is the Road Out of Hell 

In a Sentimental Mood

Set My Soul On Fire

Burnin' Out of Control

WIPs:

Looking For Something Dumb To Do

I Can't Get Rid of You 

If You Fall, I Will Catch You 

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

hmmmmm, that's a tough one! I love them all for different reasons, but I will say I'm very proud of Long Is the Road Out of Hell because it's my longest fanfic to date (almost 60k!) and at one point I really wasn't sure if I'd be able to finish it. but I did!

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

tbh if I'm not proud of something, I won't publish it. but I think the work that frustrated me the most was Whiskey & Wine, my kinktober fic. I pushed myself too hard with too big of a goal and burnt myself out halfway through. but I did learn the importance of setting boundaries for myself (and why I need to be careful committing to challenges 😅)

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

not gonna lie, once I publish something, the words tend to leave my brain, so I don't always remember what I write lol. I should probably keep a doc of good lines from my fics so I have something to present when people ask me 😂 but here are two excerpts that I'm pretty proud of.

Devil in the Woods: He had loved her since the first time he opened his eyes to find her snuggled up on his chest. He had loved her longer, since the moment he’d held her in his arms on that endlessly rainy night. And longer still, he’d loved the little girl who played jacks with him on May Day and laughed at his wild antics.

Hooked on a Feeling: He knew he could be… a lot, as kinder people said. A goddamn nuisance, according to everyone else. He didn’t mean to be, he just tended to… latch on to things. Kind of like a bulldog (but in a nice and lovable way, thank you, Jeff). And right now he had ChrissyChrissyChrissy clamped tight between his jaws, and he hoped to god she didn’t ask him to let go.

5. Share or describe a favorite comment you received:

I have a few regular commenters who give me the longest, loveliest comments where they literally analyze each chapter section by section 😭 it makes me feel so loved. but as for one individual comment, I distinctly remember a commenter from one of my early fics commenting on a really tough scene I did re: chrissy's eating disorder. they said that they also had an eating disorder, and that chapter was very healing for them. I don't think I'll ever get another comment as powerful as that.

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

I go in and out of mild anxious/depressive episodes, mostly due to outside stressors, and that makes it really hard to write. writing is the one constant joy in my life, and when I don't even feel like doing that, I know something is very, very wrong. but luckily, they don't usually last too long!

7. A scene or character that you wrote that surprised you:

mike's redemption arc in Long Is the Road! that one was a total curveball to me, and it only came about because it was the closest place I could think of to have Chrissy walk to after her mom kicked her out. total accident, but it spawned on of my favorite sibling-ships for chrissy that I've ever written!

also writing wayne's pov! i never intended to do that, but once I started, his voice just kind of stuck in my head 😂

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

I wrote a lot. like over 300k of fanfic. and i even got back into writing some original fiction, which I'm so excited about!

I also started writing smut for the first time in 2023, which was something I never anticipated doing, let alone enjoying! but it's been super fun

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

I'd like to work more on my original fiction, maybe get a short story published. I'd also like to get better at world-building! I tend to get so focused on the characters that I forget they exist in a place I should spend some time creating lol

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

@slumped-in-the-arms-of-fiction all the way! she's been such a wonderful beta reader, cheerleader, and overall positive influence on my writing. I Can't Get Rid of You wouldn't ever have happened without her support and feedback!

11. Anything in your real life show up in your writing this year:

ooh, buddy! pieces of myself get sprinkled all over the damn place 😂 but as for specifics...

Galentines and Valentines opening scene was reminiscent of the girls' nights me and my college friends used to have (and still have sometimes)

Hooked on a Feeling had elements of my own past experiences of being laid up in a hospital (and being very annoyed about it)

This Old Man was absolutely inspired by my love of Columbo

You Got Me Good definitely included some of my own thoughts and feelings about when I get a little too high 😂

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

give your writing time.

it's so tempting when you have a new idea to jump on it and then get frustrated when it doesn't immediately turn out the way you want, but I've found that if I give myself time to think over a piece before I write it, and let it sit for a little while after I write it, I'm much happier with the end results!

13. Any new projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

finishing my three WIPs! and hopefully a little christmas fic 😂 I don't have anything else immediately in the works, thank god!

14. Tag three writers/artists whose answers you’d like to read:

@1lostsoul0fishbowl @pearlypairings @rose-n-gunses and anybody else!!!

#vibez answers #annual writing self-evaluation #fic writing #writer games #dash games

[greenerteacups]

Hello! I wanted to let you know how amazing your fic is, it seems my life now revolves around Friday mornings. I think it may be one of my favorite series ever, not just fics, your stuff is better than most published works I have read. I really could go on and on. Suffice to say, thank you x1 million for just putting this out there for us.

I had a couple curiosities! Is it ever hard to restrain yourself and just post 1 time per week? Or is that necessary for your creative process?

Also, your fic is rapidly growing in popularity, do you ever get worried about how that might change your audience?

Thank you again for the amazing thing you've written, I feel super lucky to be reading it in real time because I know this is going to be one of those legendary classics.

Thank you so much! You're wonderfully kind, I really appreciate it, and I hope I can live up to your expectations!

Weekly posting: Posting once a week is actually something I started for my own sanity — posting it regularly/serially is better for audience response, so there's a natural incentive to do it, but it also gives me more time to write ahead. And having all of a book prewritten in advance is really important for me creatively, not only so as to avoid the possibility of cliffhangers, but also to feel immune from the pressure to change the story based on what audiences want.

Growing audiences: Oof, it's been wild. I've been sort of boggled by the response to my little fic; it was entirely unexpected and the most I can do is work hard to deserve it. For the most part, an increasing audience has been a wonderful, wonderful thing, and I've been so grateful for everyone who's been offering support and praise. I'm seriously insanely lucky. My only point of frustration is that, in general, as a fic grows, readers seem to perceive increasing distance between themselves and the author. For instance, people in my comments have increasingly started to address each other instead of me, or have left comments seemingly without the expectation that I'll read them. But when someone comments on the fic, they're still sending that message directly to the author, and I think that some people might... well, they either don't know that, or they don't care. Like, the audience/author distance might be greater than it is for a fic with only 300 hits, but it's not like I'm a showrunner, or some other media production bigwig who'll probably never see 99% of the feedback generated by fans; it's still my pet project that I read basically every scrap of feedback for.

And sometimes (rarely — most of my comments are just so wonderful, and I don't want to sound ungrateful, but) people do say weird or unnecessary things. One comment for the last chapter read, "if krum dies im gonna drop this fic ngl," and that just irritated the hell out of me. Like, if that's your opinion, cool. Your reading habits are none of my business, and I sincerely encourage everyone who needs to take a break from Lionheart — or, hell, even loses interest — to go find something that sparks joy instead. Reading fic should bring you pleasure. No hard feelings, swear to God.

But my frustration with that comment, in particular, was: you do realize that you've sent that message directly to my inbox, right? You realize that was the first thing I read when I opened my comments section after a long afternoon of writing? Someone directly informing me, the author, that a narrative decision (which, either way, I already made about 4-5 months ago) will lose me a reader? And how does this person expect me to react? "Oh, no! I have to go back and rewrite 90,000 words of the story — God forbid I lose you, Single AO3 User Who Left No Other Comments! How can I live with myself if you're not here??"

It's just a bit frustrating. And, to the point — I say this politely, with respect — but if you seriously can't handle seeing characters die, then maybe don't read the fanfiction that's rewriting a series where very many characters die. Just a thought.

#someone left a similar comment after I posted Chapter 30 #which just made me roll my eyes #these clowns act like they're the author's personal muse #'unfortunately i am no longer enjoying your fic and i must stop reading' ok? have you mistaken me for your book club president? #anyway. thank you for a kind ask sorry it got salty at the end

[steviesnotebook]

Color Me Green

Steve Rogers x fem!reader

Summary—You and Steve are going out on your first date, but it’s already ruined before it even starts. It even gets a little messy!

Warnings—a little physical fighting, minor angst, major fluff

a/n—I hope someone enjoys this little fic I whipped up together. Positive comments only, and reblogs are welcomed!

The day has finally come.

You and Steve have been playing the famous game of coy and endless flirting. It started with looks across the conference tables and whenever there’s a moment of peace on missions. Then it slowly turned into interlocking fingers under the table and blushing whenever the other speaks. Y’all didn’t exactly hide it, as the whole team realized something was going on. Pretty sure the god of space and the man of metal armor made their bets.

But after months of smiles and giggles, you asked him out. You’ll never forget the way his eyebrows shot up or the way the tip of his ears turned an adorable shade of red. He stuttered over his words, but eventually, he said yes and your heart’s been soaring ever since then.

Until yesterday.

Steve’s different from the other guys. He opens doors, pulls out your chair, knows his boundaries, and does the bare minimum and beyond. But now you were starting to doubt him and his gentlemanly manners as you witnessed Sharon Carter—out of all people—plant a sweet little kiss on his cheek. He didn’t even pull away! Worst of all, he smiled.

Your throat thickens at the mere thought of it as you drag your feet through the art museum. You can’t even enjoy the pieces hung up on the wall and don’t bother paying attention to Steve’s rambling. This first date was supposed to be a dream, walking on water and head in the clouds, all of it! But every time you looked at him, you saw Sharon kissing him even more.

“Y/N, are you alright?”

You pull yourself out of your thoughts. “Hmm?”

“You seem very… distant,” he nervously chuckles. “Are you bored?”

“No, no. I’m having fun.” Yeah, right! Not with that nonchalant tone.

Steve chewed on his bottom lip, fondling the art pamphlet in his hands.

“If you want to head out, we can. Get something to eat, or—”

“Actually,” You say sharply. “That painter's section looks pretty cool. Let’s go!”

You start to walk ahead of him as he trails behind you. The anxiety rolls right off of him and onto you, and you want to feel bad. But your insecure thoughts are starting to cloud your mind, making you dizzy with doubt. What if he only said yes because he didn’t want to hurt your feelings? What if he wants Sharon and you’re just in the way? What if the last few months were nothing but a game to him?

You suck in a breath, entering a room that had massive sheets of paper covering the walls, with multiple paint buckets and paint brushes scattered across tables and floors. Mainly children fill the area, freely painting upon the walls. If you weren’t so irritated, you would enjoy the hell out of this.

A small smile appeared on Steve’s lips, and even now, your heart pulls at the sight.

“Want me to paint something for you? I can’t guarantee my painting skills are great, I’m more compatible with pencil and paper, but I’ll still try.”

God, he’s so adorable. You desperately want to relish the moment, but your frustration is set and a stubborn grudge is formed.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you force a smile that he totally sees right through.

He follows your lead to a free space of paper. Maybe if you focus on a painting then your intrusive thoughts would flitter away. But still, you wonder what he’s thinking.

Ever since y’all got here, his face’s been flushed, he stumbled over his words, and he’s always fidgeting and unable to keep still. He’s either incredibly nervous or anxious to leave you.

“What are you painting?”

Your jaw tightens. You try to think of a generic answer, like fluffy clouds. But your silence stretches and leaves a thick tension in the air. Steve clears his throat, continuing to send blue paint across the paper.

Suddenly, Steve lets out a huff. “Are you going to keep pretending that you don’t hear me?”

“Are you going to keep pretending you want to be here?”

The retort comes out sharp and sends a shock through him.

“Excuse me?”

Your grip tightens on the paintbrush, keeping your eyes trained forward on the paper. “You heard me, Rogers. We both know you would rather be with someone else.”

“If you think that, then you don’t know me, at all.”

You turn to him and your heart beats wildly in your chest, as adrenaline guides your next words.

“You’re a fucking hypocrite!” You whisper-yell, your voice coming out in a hiss. “You say you’re all about honesty and respect but then you go hook up with Sharon—”

His eyes go wide. “Sharon?! Is this what this is about?”

“Don’t play with me, Steve. I saw you two by elevator and she kissed you.”

Steve rolls his eyes and scoffs, “First of all, she kissed me on my cheek because I was comforting her about Peggy—you know, who died a year ago. Yeah, her death anniversary was yesterday. And second of all, last time I checked, ‘hooking up’ isn’t really considered kissing on the cheek!”

Fucking hell, you’re an asshole. Your face burns and all you want to do is crawl into a hole and die there. Screw jumping to conclusions, you leaped far and beyond. And the worst part is seeing the shock and rage on Steve’s face. If he wasn’t wearing a button-down shirt and instead of wearing his stealth suit, you would think he’s about to beat somebody’s ass. You try to bite down on the fact that he looked sexy as hell while mad, but even flirting won’t get you out of this mess.

Before you could apologize, he continues.

“Wasn’t aware that I was going on a date with an insecure brat.”

In a swift, impulsive motion, you swing your arm across and a blob of paint splatters across his face and onto his shirt.

Both of your jaws drop as you both stand dangerously still. A cluster of whispers spread through the room and they stare you down. Steve looks up at you from underneath his long lashes; a spark sets off in his eyes.

“Oh,” he chuckles darkly.

“I… am so so—”

SPLAT!

You gasp as a bigger glob of blue paint splatters across your neck and chin.

Your hand ends up gripping a paint bucket and Steve is slowly shaking his head.

“Don’t you dare…”

“I dare!”

Paint splash all over him, turning his white button-up shirt into a red button-up shirt.

Steve sniffs, his lips turning into a smirk. “Okay, you wanna play, huh? How about a little green since you love being jealous for no reason!”

He then splatters green paint over your head, making you squeal. People were starting to leave the area, ushering their children from the scene, although they were enjoying the show.

“Really?! Fine! How about some black, it matches your heart!”

You scoop up a handful of black paint and wipe it down his face. And with that, the real war starts. You both—ungracefully—swipe each other with paint, creating an ugly rainbow. Shrieking and spewing curse words at each other in a childish game. At some point, you sloppily tackle Steve when he slips on spilled paint.

Soon, heavy footsteps approach you two as you had Steve in a headlock with your thighs. You two look up to see a very annoyed security guard.

***

Ever heard the story of a supersoldier and a spy covered in paint in front of a security office? Nope! Because it would sound incredibly stupid. Yet, here you two were with ruined clothes and a sour expression.

You sit a seat away from Steve, while you pick paint out of your nails. The thick silence hung over you both and made y’all shift uncomfortably.

With one glance at Steve, you notice his hair sticking up in all directions. A variety of paint accompanied the blond. His shit is missing a few buttons and his face is barely recognized with the layers of paint.

A giggle escapes you and you slap a hand over your mouth. Steve side-eyes you, making you laugh harder.

But the corner of his lips starts to twitch into a smile, and soon both of you are laughing, heartily.

“We are too damn grown for this!” Steve gestures to their messed-up clothes.

You nod, still chuckling. “Too grown!”

Eventually, y’all’s laughter dies down, and the tension returns.

You sigh. “I’m sorry for your jumping conclusions. I should’ve been more honest with you.”

Steve nods, a sweet smile gracing his lips. “I’m sorry I called you an insecure brat. I… nothing I did back there was me. I was out of line and—”

“No, no. I deserved it. I was insecure and a brat. And instead of telling you what was on my mind, I ruined our date.”

Steve’s gaze softens. He takes the seat next to you and your arms brush together.

“If it makes you feel better… this is the most exciting date I’ve ever had.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

“Yes, well, Tony tends to set me up on blind dates, which actually turns out to be the women he’s slept within the past. So you can already imagine how that went.”

“Classic Tony,” you snort.

“And also,” his voice drops lower and you realize how close he is. “I definitely would not mind a second date. Preferably me cooking you dinner.”

You glance at his lips. Your noses barely touch.

You suck in a breath. “And hopefully breakfast…”

He hums and brushes his lips against yours before pressing them together. His lips are warm and soft, and even though he tastes like paint, you smile anyway.

Best date ever.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #marvel #mcu #mcu fic #x reader #captain america #captain america fic

[tojikai]

After rereading chpt.6 and reading chp.7 I now i have More Thoughts. Fuckin amazing work as always, thx for gifting us this story!! Get some rest, give urself a break and some love for a little but, we'll happily wait for ya 😚😚💕💕💕

Y/N -- chpt. 6 still has me frustrated as hell but after reading some other asks and ur responses b4 going back, her responses make a lot more sense now. She's still super hurt about everything and is just doing her best to survive it and make it through with Yui happy and healthy (although I'm still so confused about why Toji's comment about Yui was so bad, like legit could u or another anon explain?). LOVE the end of their convo in chpt.7, it didn't wrap up neatly. They both acknowledge that they need work on things and that they'll each try their best, loveitloveitloveit. Still very much a Y/N x Toji supporter 😊😊😊

Toji -- OK now I see how often he compared Y/N to his wife lols, she was totally valid, but he still has a point, she's not really thinking about his pov. Like yes, Gojo's alive and his wife is dead but that doesn't mean his feelings and reactions are any less (which she acknowledges, Y/N is so emotional aware and rational, love that for her). Ngl, seeing that they left Yui's pacifier in the house scared me so bad, felt like thos scenes in horror movies where they go back into danger💀💀💀 I honestly don't know how to feel about the future convo, but they're both decently aware of any possible consequences so I don't thinks it will be toooo bad.

Naomi -- FUCK Naomi me and my homies HATE Naomi 🦅🦅🦅📢📢📢📢

The Evil Stepmother -- how dare u make me feel and inkling of pity for her with that last section of the convo btwn her and her husband 😭😭😭😭

The Loving Father -- LMAOOOOOO NOT HIM GOING THROUGH ALMOST THE EXACT SAME THING AS GOJO PFFFFT LIKE FSTHER LIKE SON. no but fr love this man, he did not hesitate to support and love his boy fuckyefuckyeguckye

hiiii thank u so much !! and to answer your question, yn didn't like what toji said abt yui bc that's a painful memory to her, even now that she knows that satoru didn't mean it. her situation that time was one she absolutely doesn't want to remember at all. it's like toji used her weakness against her. and yepp, both toji and yn got points, considering their individual situation. and i really enjoyed writing satoru's dad, i hope that cleared up his rs w satoru's mom more!! anwww i really appreciate your thoughts<33 hope you're doing great~

#🍭—kaitalks #f: sundered

[soemthingsparkly]

🐱 Who was your first hermit?

🐰 Who is your favourite hermit?

🐵 What season did you watch first?

🐧 What is your favourite season?

(love, Rora)

Thank you for the ask, Rora! :D

This ended up being a lot longer than I thought it would be (well, no, I know what I'm like), so answers under the read more!

🐱 Who was your first hermit? Ohh! Fun fact, my first Hermit was actually Mumbo! I believe I started watching him because a friend watched him. I spent a long time only watching Mumbo, actually.

I think it wasn't until he really started to take time off at the start of season 9 that I truly began to branch out to other Hermits.

Which, to be honest, seems absolutely wild now. Granted season 9 started over 2 years ago, it seems silly that I've only really been in the wider hermit ecosystem since last season...

That being said, I have this really vague memory of stumbling across who I now think might've been Grian doing a Christmas-esque episode on some server somewhere and going 'what the hell is this? Is he roleplaying??' and then clicking off again... But, in my defence, this was back when I was coming out of the Lets Play Minecraft series from Achievement Hunter and looking for more content and it was very much NOT what I was used to hehehe.

---

🐰 Who is your favourite hermit?

This is tricky because the answer depends on various factors.

Right now, I'm kind of obsessed with Tango as a character in fanwork, but could probably take or leave his videos and streams (well, okay that's an overstatement, I get a lot of joy from his content, but the general content of his videos (such as redstone engineering) isn't what I'd typically choose to watch. So really, I watch for his personality and interactions, if that makes sense.)

I'm reluctant to say Grian, but that's mostly because I'm stubborn and hate to admit how much I love his content. Like don't get me wrong, I absolutely adore his videos, but it feels like the easy answer, ya know? I don't want to say I prefer his stuff over other hermits, but I really enjoy the vibes of his interactions, the composition of his builds and timelapses, his general pesky attitude... etc.

I think the thing I feel about Grian is that I pick up a general sense of displeasure towards his audience - and I kind of get that it's because of a small minority of audience memebers who persure parasocial relationships with him through his comment sections and interacting with him in online spaces, but from a very selfish viewer's perspective, I kind of wish he'd just not bring attention to those members of his audience. It makes it feel like his general frustration with them gets blanketed across the entirity of his viewership.

But then again, I know that that is just my rejection sensitivity playing up and that he should absolutely call out members of his audience that behave in ways he, quite reasonably, doesn't like.

So instead I'll say my favourite Hermit is Scar, because, frankly, he is.

I watch him for his personality, his builds, his interactions. He's such an incredbile entertainer and makes me feel so warm and welcomed in everything he shares online. I could not give a flying flipkick about Disney or Starwars and yet I will sit and listen to each three hour monologue, totally enraptured by his thoughts and opinions on either subject. This man knows how to be entertaining and charming and generally just such a joy to experience.

So yes, in answer to the above, my favourite hermit is Scar. Heh.

---

🐵 What season did you watch first?

(I'll try and keep these answers shorter hhehe)

My first proper season was season 7, I think! I remember watching Mumbo receieve stacks upon stacks of minecarts from Grian and, accidentally/on purpose, ignoring him. Oh, Mumbo.

---

🐧 What is your favourite season?

Honestly, I loved season 8 for so many reasons. At this point I was still primarily watching Mumbo, so I adored the Boatem crew and all of their shenanigans. I fondly remember each of the Boatem members constructing their messages to Scar in the sky - 'build here Scar!'. The Mooners bit made me laugh so much and I loved how encapsulated the season was.

These days, I'd probably be a bit disappointed to have a season so short, but back then, I adored the entire thing.

---

Thank you so much for asking! These were actually really fun to answer. I had a great time thinking about my time in the fandom and writing it all down, so thanks!

<3

#jaz talks #hermitcraft #ask game #hermitcraft ask game

[reptilian-rapscallian]

I wanted to talk about Stranger Things

More specifically, season 4 Will and Robin

Because they were done so fucking dirty and I’m really upset about it

Spoilers ahead!!

First off, Will’s feelings for Mike only being used to further Mike’s relationship with El? It shows how little genuine queer rep we’re going to get in this show. The only real, heart wrenching display of Will’s feelings were used for a straight relationship’s development, which is ridiculous. He’s such an interesting character with all of this shit to work through, but he’s used as a plot device and shoved aside. That scene really moved me with the incredible performance given by Noah Schnapp, and it just shows how much he should be focused on in s5, because he’s an amazing character performed by an amazing actor, and it’s so frustrating how little he’s being given to do.

Also the scene with Jonathan?? What the fuck was up with that??? It’s been pretty much established now that Jonathan knows about Will’s sexuality and his feelings for Mike. However, they still wrote that scene in a way that means fans who don’t want queer characters in the show (which is fucking ridiculous and if you think that way then check your fucking privilege and get off my account) can interpret it however they want, and only leads to more queer baiting from this bloody show, and me fighting for my life in comment sections where I mention the fact that that scene was both healing their relationship and Jonathan letting Will know that he’s okay with his sexuality, and how beautiful a moment it was, even if we didn’t get what we wanted.

Now, Robin.

What the hell happened with Vicky. Again, it’s pretty much confirmed by the end that Vicky also has feelings for Robin, but I genuinely expected more Vicky scenes, especially when Amybeth McNulty said she was really excited for us to meet Vicky. I wanted to see an established and beautifully developed wlw relationship, but we can’t even get that, Robin again being used as a plot device instead of a genuine, fleshed out character. While I’m glad she was given more to do than Will, we still had another queer relationship dangled in front of us and then ripped away, and I’m so done with it.

I think I’m just tired of the complete lack of positive queer rep from this show. I had so much hope when Robin came out and we got a canonical lesbian character, but s4 tore apart any hope I had for the show’s queer characters.

The duffer brothers need to listen to their fans and do better.

#stranger things #robin buckley #queerbaiting #will byers #byler #wlw #mlm love #duffers sleep with one eye open

[blossominginsanity]

Time for another bad take from me, feel free to ignore

I hate the term "rose boy", especially for myself

Like if you feel connected to it and use it for yourself, hell yeah, enjoy man, but I get frustrated when people tell me to use it for myself rather than femboy, because it feels like it's trying to sanitize my experience, and I don't like that. It also feels like it's infantilizing femininity, and labeling femboys as "soft" and "dainty" and "weak", which is great for some, but insulting to others. Femboys are just Feminine Boys, and I like the term for myself. This is mostly on TikTok to be fair, those comment sections are... a place

#meta talks #femboy #ftm femboy #roseboy #femboy discourse