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hotteoki · 1 year

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boyfriend skz things - happy 1k followers!

notes: this was long overdue so i rushed it a bit, but thank you everyone so so much for 1k! here’s a lil celebration that was not proofread 😭

©️ strayedstars | do not repost

chan (방찬) - flirting

despite being in a long-term relationship with him, chan will never stop complimenting you, opening doors for you, spoiling you with gifts etc. it’s so frequent to the point where the others have long given up on making fun of him, opting for a simultaneous groan whenever the both of you share any type of interaction.

just as chan was about to lean in to kiss you, jisung interrupted from beside you, “the parents are at it again!” this created a trend for everyone to follow, screaming a few “get a room!”s or “not again!”s. chan pursed his lips, “i really look forward to the day i move out.” you laughed, “you don’t mean that.” “no i really do.”

minho (민호) - sending filter videos

it was very well known that minho is an avid filter user, using sending random videos to stays on bubble and laughing about them. little did anyone know, the amount of videos or pictures minho posts online were only 1/5th of how many he sends you. without even counting them, you could confidently say that 90% of your gallery was him with some ridiculous filter.

"min, stop sending me stuff, my storage is running out because of you." minho blinked at you slowly, before turning his attention back to his phone, ironically already filming a video with him as a bumblebee, "no." you laughed, "what do you mean, no? i quite literally have more pictures of you than me on my phone-" "good."

changbin (창빈) - reminding you to drink water

knowing how much changbin cares about his health, it was safe to assume that he would care just as much about yours. before he began dedicating his time in the gym, it was always you reminding him to stay hydrated. changbin used to be the most forgetful person ever, and would always be too busy working to drink water. however, after you switched jobs, you were often too stressed to eat or drink at all. thank your lucky stars that changbin is basically a walking alarm.

a glass of water was wordlessly placed beside your laptop on the desk. "binnie, i just drank some literally 5 minutes ago," you looked up from your screen to meet his stern eyes. "no, you drank a sip of my water over an hour ago," changbin crossed his arms, staring pointedly at the clock. you knew he wasn't going to budge until you finished every last drop of that glass, so you complied, downing the water. it was only then did he smile proudly, kissing your forehead quickly before leaving to wash the glass.

hyunjin (현진) - drawing

everyone knows how much hyunjin loves art, most of the pieces he posts on instagram were of flowers, or sceneries. however, he has a notebook that is dedicated to his drawings of you. he knows how you aren't confident in yourself most of the time, but he's determined to prove you wrong. whenever you were with him, hyunjin would always have his notebook and pencil in hand, ready to sketch you.

"what are you always drawing?" "hm?" hyunjin hummed, gaze still fixating on his pages. "i mean, you're always drawing something, can i see what it is?" his cheeks turned slightly pink from your attention, "i'll show you when i'm finished." "but you work on a new piece every time?" hyunjin paused, thinking of a reply to that, "i'll show you the entire book when i'm done. i have around 11 pages left or so anyway." you nodded, satisfied with that answer. hyunjin smiled to himself before continuing his work on your eyes, he always thought they were the prettiest he'd ever seen.

jisung (지성) - petting

it started off as a subconscious movement, you were pretty certain jisung hadn’t even realised doing it until you asked him why he was stroking your arm out of nowhere. he responded with a blush, moving away before you could stop him. it was when it happened again that you told him you found it adorable, and that was also when jisung kissed you for the first time.

“i never got to ask you,” you said, nudging jisung's foot with yours, earning a hum from him. “why do you always pet me?” the hand that was caressing your thigh halted, before continuing as jisung thought of an answer, “i don’t know. i think i just got used to petting bbama, and now i pet you.” you kissed his cheek lightly, smiling against his skin, “fair enough.”

felix (용복) - baking

it was regular for felix to bake a batch of brownies for the members and staff, and usually they would all be devoured before you could even get your hands on one of them, which is why felix would always bake a smaller batch reserved just for you. sometimes they would have chocolate chips in them, or m&ms, whatever you were craving, they would probably be put in the brownies.

"yah, felix, do you have any more brownies?" minho yelled from across the room. "no, sorry, that was all!" felix called back. "what do you mean? you literally have a box of them right there?" jeongin pointed out. felix immediately reacted, extending his arm until it was out of jeongin's reach, "they're not yours." "they're mine!" you added in, walking over to felix and taking the box from him, kissing his cheek as a thank you. "ugh, not in here," minho recoiled.

seungmin (승민) - taking pictures

much like hyunjin, he's an avid believer of capturing the moment. seungmin carries a film camera with him at all times, knowing that if he used a regular camera, you would ask to see the picture and instantly ask him to delete it. by using a film camera, you wouldn't be able to see the picture, and seungmin would be able to print them out without your knowing, and pocket them in his wallet.

"when did you take this?" you indicated at the picture of you in his wallet, you swore you've never seen that picture before. "a while ago," seungmin shrugged, taking his wallet from your hands. "do you just take pictures of me out of nowhere?" you laughed. "yeah, all the time. i thought you knew that." you blinked, "i did not." "well now you do."

jeongin (정인) - letting you wear his rings

jeongin's usually very reluctant about letting other people borrow his things, but when he saw you trying on some of his rings, he knew he would let you have anything you wanted that belonged to him. it wasn't even a possessive thing, he simply thought that it warmed his heart to know that you loved him so much you would wear a reminder of him every day.

"hey, can i borrow this for tonight? it goes with my outfit." without even looking up from his phone, jeongin nodded, "sure." "innie, you're not even looking," you stated teasingly. he smiled, "i don't need to. you can keep whatever you want." you gaped, "really?" jeongin switched his phone off, beaming at you, "yeah. what's mine is yours. not my clothes though, i need them for my ootds."

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thebestofoneshots · 3 months

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Mr. Blue Sky | marauders x reader

Pairing: J.P. x R.B. x R.L x Female Hufflepuff Reader Word Count: 3 k Warnings: None Prompt: You had your entire birthday planned, it would be the perfect picnic, but... a storm has ruined it entirely and now, you can't help but feel absolutely desolated. Of course, your boys would never allow you to be sad on your birthday.

Happy Birthday my beloved Lily flower! I truly hope you have the best of days today and even if you didn't have your garden picnic in the end, know that you can still have the most brilliant day ever, after all, there's always a rainbow after the rain.

Wirtten for @starchaser-lily

You had it all ready. You had ordered the dress that you would wear. You had asked the elves in the kitchen for a proper banquet, thankfully, since you often went there, and you had helped them cook some stuff before (cakes for your boys), they were more than happy to help you with your plan. In fact, Bub, a small elf that seemed to always be around, had gotten so excited about the idea of helping you with your plan that she had started jumping all over the kitchen and looking for all the things she would need to prepare it.

You had to remind her that the event wasn’t going to be until the next Tuesday like 3 times before she stopped jumping around; she already had eggs, flour, food coloring, and sugar in her arms, and a bunch of other ingredients floating behind her when she understood what you meant. You had told her that she could work on the cake if that’s what she wanted, and that the design would be all up to her. Which made her fallen face turn into a delighted one in a second, and she walked over to the side to start sketching some things in her notebook.

You had prepared and made the invitations; it was going to be a small gathering, but you still wanted it to be perfect. One of your friends from abroad had sent you an adorable tablecloth with cute yellow details that matched your house colors, and she’d sent a birthday card along with it. Although she warned you not to touch it, let alone open it until it was officially your birthday. The red envelope was deterrent enough, but you were too curious not to try and pry, so you opened it on the side just slightly and found yet another envelope inside.

"I knew you’d try to open it, babe. Now you must be warned, if you actually open the one you’re reading now, it will blow up. I’ve used all my knowledge and even asked that Remus boy of yours to help me. He’s absolutely brilliant in charms. Love you. Ps. For the love of Merlin, leave it closed."

You had laughed at her note and placed the threatening envelope on your night table. It made you smile whenever you read it, and you were pretty excited to see what would be inside of it. But if the bright red sign that said “DO NOT OPEN TILL BIRTHDAY” hadn’t been enough, the threat of an explosion had. Especially since you knew your friend’s exceptional ability in charms, and if she really had teamed up with Remus, then the most likely scenario was that it really, really would blow up if you didn’t do as told.

Either way, the tablecloth she’d gotten you was perfect; it was even charmed so the delicate drawings on it would move and swirl around, making the yellow and gold tones distractingly beautiful. And once Madam Pomfrey saw it, she was more than happy to lend you her picnic baskets.

You had, pretty much, prepared every single detail of your small party, gathering items and making sure the food would be ready, and you were impossibly excited for the 30th.

And then, the day came… You woke up to the sound of a soft splish-splash against the window. But you were still half-asleep to really notice what was going on. And then you heard it again, a soft ticking sound, like something soft, was tapping against it. You frowned and slowly opened your eyes. It was rather dark for it to be already 8 am. You focused on the sound, and when you realized where it came from, your gaze snapped towards the window.

“No, no, no…” you whispered as you saw the small droplets of rain fall one after the other, filling the window with their soft watery trails. The rain was soft, and as you looked out and saw the grey clouds, you could only hope it would go away soon enough.

You huffed and pulled the Daily Prophet from underneath your bed and revised the weather section over and over again. You had been marking the day with red all day of the week, and while it had said it would be cloudy, not a single one of the predictions mentioned anything even remotely close to a small shower.

“Everything all right, luv?” Your roommate asked. “Oh, and Happy Birthday!” she added with a smile.

“Thanks,” you mumbled in response. “It’s just– It’s raining.”

“Lovely day, innit?” Another one of your roommates said as she looked out of the window.

You loved rainy days; you truly did. There was something about staying inside and reading a good book while you watched the raindrops crash against the window that was so romantic; you couldn’t even get enough of it.

But today?

Today you hated rainy days!

You had been planning your picnic for months, getting the right food and the right clothes and managing to get all the boys at the same time at the same place, which was hard enough because everyone was either studying or doing one of their extracurriculars and yet… you had managed.

So much for a perfect picnic, you thought as you looked up at the sky yet again. With another sigh, you got up and put on your uniform, walking down the stairs to the common room in what you tried to make it look like not a mopey attitude. Especially with all your housemates pulling you in for hugs and wishing you a happy birthday.

Even Madam Pomfrey had stopped you on your way out to give you a short hug and tell you to have an incredibly good day. You had smiled and told her that it probably would, even if on the inside, you were absolutely certain everything had been absolutely ruined.

You went to the great hall, but just on the entrance, and when you spotted the boys looking rather eager, you decided you did not need any reminders of what an awful day it was and decided to skip breakfast altogether, opting instead to walk towards the library and look for a book. Perhaps reading as you watched the raindrops fall against the window, like you loved so much doing, would put you in a better mood.

You weren’t too hopeful for it, and frankly, you didn’t really want to do it either, so when you got to the library and found a book that seemed mildly entertaining, you took it in both of your hands and went straight into one of the most hidden reading nooks available. Few people knew of it, and you didn’t expect anyone to be looking for you there either. Not on a Tuesday, not on a class day, not with the NEWTS so close and certainly not with the fact that your year had Potions with Slughorn as the first class. So you hid in the reading nook as you read the book.

And you couldn’t have made a worse pick, not because the book was bad, in fact, you had read the first and second books of the collection, and you thought they were delightful. In fact, you loved Anne; you liked her positivity and you could easily see yourself as her, except that she was awfully positive and the mood you were in at the moment was far too dreadful to even consider her positivity a good trait. The more you read, the more annoying you found her because, how was it possible that she was so happy and you were so completely and utterly miserable?

You felt silly; you had magic and you had friends that loved you and a place in this bloody delightful school, and you were moping like a little kid over a rainy day. You really had to get yourself together or else–

“So this is where you’ve been hiding?” You heard him say with a short smile as he got in through the tapestry.

You closed your eyes and winced when you realized how stupid you’d been, hiding in the place he had shown you; of course, he’d find you. It looked as if you wanted to be found by one of them. Did you? Perhaps deep in your subconscious, you sought the kind of support only they could offer.

“Reggie,” you said softly and turned to him with a forced smile. “Lovely to–”

“Don’t even try,” he responded, cutting your bullshit in an instant. “Remus told me you didn’t go for breakfast or to class.”

“Well–”

“And Jamie has been going around pestering all your roommates; they were pretty upset, they had prepared something for you at breakfast.”

You gulped and pouted at how harsh Reggie was being. Not even a “happy birthday sweetheart.”

“So?”

“So?” you responded confused.

“Why are you here, hiding from the world on your most special day?”

“It’s raining,” you responded simply, looking out at the window again. You had held onto this naive hope that the rain would go away fast and that things would still be able to do your picnic, albeit slightly wet and murky; the possibility was still there. Except that said hope had been crushed when you heard a thunder ripple through the sky, making the entire window tremble with its might. It was no longer just rain; it was pretty much a storm.

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“My birthday is ruined.”

Reggie frowned and leaned in right next to you, peering down from where he was to look at you directly in the eyes, “Because of some silly rain?”

You huffed, “Because it was a picnic, Reggie!” you spat angrily and left the room out of there before he even had the chance to follow.

“Hey, wait!” he said as you left the place and sighed after not being able to find you at all. “I was gonna wish you a happy birthday,” he added in a sad tone as he pulled a small little envelope from his pocket. Forrest green paper and a silver bow, his birthday gift for you.

You had been running so fast with your disillusionment charm, looking back to make sure that Reggie wasn’t following that you didn’t notice the moment you crashed into someone, but he did, holding you by the shoulders as he stared at you. “Dove?” he asked as he tried to see through your charm.

You frowned and shut your eyes with a sigh. You might have been able to run from Reggie, but running away from Remus would be an impossible task. First of all, he was freakishly tall; second, he was literally a werewolf and fit as hell.

“Remus,” you said awkwardly, and he pulled you into a hug. “Happy Birthday,” he whispered into your ear, and you let out something between a sob and a laugh. Reggie caught up with the two of you a few seconds later and joined Remus’ hug.

“Happy birthday, you prat!” He said as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Can’t believe you’d let Remus hug you but run away from me, your favorite boyfriend.”

“You’re not her favorite,” you heard another voice say from the side; you hadn’t seen him at all but apparently, Jamie had also been around. “That’s obviously me.”

Remus just rolled his eyes at the petty little fight they were about to start. James loved getting on Reggie’s nerves. The tension they’d build up with that would always end up satisfactorily for the two of them.

“Did you finish that?” Reggie asked, and James grinned.

“Duh,” he responded as he placed a hand on Reggie’s shoulder to be able to see your face; as much as he adored his boyfriend’s long hair, it was still way too long at the moment. In fact, a few inches and he’d basically be Sirius (but actually fuckable).

“Come on,” Remus said as you pulled away from him, finally letting the disillusionment charm go.

“Boys, you are very sweet but, I’d rather be alone for a while. You know I had this whole thing planned and–”

“Shhhh,” James said as he placed his hand on your shoulder. “Just shut up and let us guide you.”

“But I really am not in the mood for anything right now.”

“Except for moping around in a reading nook,” Regulus said with a shrug; he was walking a few steps behind the two of you.

You turned to him with a reproachful stare, and Remus just pulled you closer to him, not quite letting go of you yet in case you would try to run off and hide somewhere. Of course, they had the map, but you had found ways to cheat your way out of it since you were helping them make it impossible. But while that meant the map would be incredible, it also meant that you were among the only people who knew how to sneak away from them.

Sirius thought it was hilarious, but your boyfriends thought it was immensely annoying. “Are we going to the Ravenclaw common room?” you asked with a frown.

“Just let us take you there,” James responded with a self-assured smile. You tried not to pay attention to how handsome he looked, although the walk along with them, even if you weren’t going to admit it, had already made you feel a lot better. Especially with Regulus and James’ constant teasing of the other. So much that Reggie almost pushed James off the stairs but managed to pull him back just in time, and James pulled him in for a kiss.

“Boys, behave,” Remus huffed slightly exasperated; though there was a sly smile playing on his face, especially after he saw a similar one on yours.

By the time you had gone the entire flight of stairs, you and Rem were actually laughing along Jamie for some silly joke, and Regulus was really trying to hold back his laughter and keep a stoic face as James kept looking at him with a know-it-all smile and raised eyebrows as if daring him not to laugh.

“Oh, almost there,” James said as he walked behind you and placed his hands over your eyes.

“James, we’re still on the stairs; I can’t see shit,” you complained.

“We’ll catch you if you fall,” Reggie said casually, and you fought the blush creeping up your cheeks really hard.

You still had Rem’s hands, holding you by the waist as James helped you up the stairs, whispering in your ear whenever there was a new step and when you had to take a couple of steps up. By the time you stopped, you knew exactly where they were taking you but decided not to tell them. You didn’t want to ruin their little surprise.

“Okay,” James whispered. “Open your eyes,” he added as he slowly removed his hands from your face.

You actually gasped when you realized what had happened. Right there, in the middle of the room was your picnic cloth, the baskets Pomfrey had borrowed, and a bottle of sparkling wine along with cups and plates and a huge cake.

There were floating balloons on the ceiling, and even if the rain was storming just outside, the boys had charmed the area so the rain wouldn’t wet anything.

“How– but…”

James smiled as he walked in front of you and bowed down in an extremely exaggerated fancy waiter gesture, “that was actually Reggie’s idea,” he said as he placed his hands on Regulus’ shoulder, who almost scoffed in return. “He said you’d be upset, and we decided to make your picnic party even if it wasn’t by the lake like you had planned.” Then James pulled you towards him and planted a kiss on your lips, letting himself get carried away when you gasped and allowed him to deepen the kiss. When he pulled back, you were breathing heavily, and he had a cocky smile on his face. “Happy birthday, my love,” he added.

You let out a diverted scoff, and the boys guided you towards the picnic. You were reclined against Reggie after you’d said sorry for running away from him, and he was rubbing his hands over your arm as James started serving some of the sparkling wine.

The letter from your friend had been somewhere inside the picnic basket, and Remus was the one who pulled it open. It exploded into a bunch of confetti and then turned into a howler of your friend singing “Happy Birthday” at the top of her lungs and with a rather off-pitch, but you were so happy you could only smile as you continued to listen. Regulus was looking at you in a judging manner.

“She’s a terrible singer,” he whispered in your ear.

“Shut up, she’s lovely!”

“And you’re deaf,” he added. “And I might be too now.”

“Shut up, Regulus!” the howler said as it stopped mid-song; he turned towards it genuinely petrified. Remus’ snigger was barely audible.

So she had asked for his help after all. “Still can’t believe you’re dating a Slytherin,” she added and then continued with her song. Once it was over, the howler moved a little closer to you. “Hope you’re having the best day ever, and that the boys treat you right. If not, I’ll make sure to call Sirius and make a plan with him to make all of their lives absolutely miserable,” there was a small pause, “Love you to the moon and back, my dear flower,” she added, and then the howler turned into more confetti and some gold glitter.

“Should I be jealous?” James teased.

“Of her? Probably,” you joked then leaned onto him again.

The rest of the night was spent smiling, joking, and enjoying the delicious food Bub had worked on all night. The boys had caught her in the halls looking for you, and she had happily given them the food along with a small present for you. Reggie had gotten you a necklace with a star, Remus a stunningly bound copy of your favorite book, and James had gotten you a ring with the sun on it.

And that’s how your birthday was spent, in between tears of laughter, delicious food, and surrounded by the sun, the moon, and the star.

Want to support me? Like and reblog this post. Comments are my life fuel, so send them out if you have any.

This one might get a part two, if you guys wanna see that <3

Raead more Marauders Fiction

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kining-the-evil · 6 months

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could u do a fnaf3 william afton with an age regressed reader please <3

ty :)

Springtrap/William Afton x Little!reader

An: My first fnaf Headcanons! In Hope They turn out okay!

Warnings: fem!reader, little!reader, age regression, average Fnaf horror, sort of kidnapping, slightly manipulative William, Fnaf 3!william

This is in no way sexual, and I don’t want to see anyone making it so.

Fnaf masterlist All Masterlists

A horror attraction was the last place you wanted to work, but you desperately needed the money and this was the only place that would hire you

You didn’t know much about Freddy’s pizzeria, just that years ago some children had gone missing and someone had decided that it would make a good attraction

You bring a few things in an attempt to keep yourself calm, a small stuffy and coloring book to keep your mind off of the scary environment around you

The moment shit started you practically broke down. You struggled to keep up on everything, and soon enough found yourself on the ground below your desk, the small stuffed rabbit clutched tightly to your chest

Once William, or sprigtrap, is found and brought to the attraction he immediately sets out to to kill you, but is confused by the seemingly empty office

He moves in slightly to look around, freezing when he heard a quiet crying. He listened for a moment before taking a few more steps in, and glancing under the desk

Nothing prepared him to see you quietly sobbing to yourself

It wasn’t even in the way he’d expect. You didn’t look like someone who broke down from the stress and was afraid to die

Instead you looked like a child who woke up from a nightmare in need of comfort

As he looked around for an explanation, he saw the small stuffed animal and coloring book and he was reminded of a concept he’d seen in a few phycology books where a person would revert to a child’s mindset

At first he couldn’t believe his luck, this would just make it that much easier to kill you! It may even give him the rush he used to get from it! But…something stopped him

“Hello…” he kneeled down with a clank, causing you to jump and look up at him

“B-bunny..?”

The way your voice cracked as you spoke, your eyes filled with tears, and the way you squeezed the stuffed rabbit, it was…amusing? Maybe even…cute

He slowly pointed at your rabbit, trying not to scare you. “You have, a bunny too.”

It took that interaction for William to become fascinated with you. He didn’t get you out from under the desk that night, and the next night you hid back under it with a notebook and your bunny until he found you

“Hello love…” he spoke quietly as he sat on the ground a few feet from you. You shoved the notebook towards him, watching his reaction as he looked over the drawing of the large yellow bunny.

“Is This me?” A Small nod. “Well, it Looks beautiful dear.”

The next whole is spent with you bringing small trinkets and toys for him to see, and him praising you for it. It was odd for William, he didn’t usually feel protective over anyone and yet the thought of any of the others getting a hold of you worried him

You’d never really had a caregiver, and even though the large, rotting, rabbit should terrify you, he just…didn’t.

When he was around the others didn’t bother you, and he liked your drawings and stuffed animals, so how bad could he really be?

The day William decided you were his was when you crawled out from the desk and onto his lap with a book, asking him to read to you.

When the building ultimately burns down due to ‘faulty wiring’ William finds your home to take you with him when he disappears for a while.

He couldn’t imagine leaving you, so he packs your bag, and luckily you are willing to follow him into the night

You have literally nothing, and the closest thing you’ve ever had to a daddy wants you to be with him.

And you aren’t looking to lose that

#fnaf #fnaf william afton #fnaf 3 #william afton x reader #willam afton #springtrap #springtrap x reader #fnaf x reader #fnaf headcanons #five nights at freddy’s headcanons #five nights at freddy’s #william afton headcanons #my writing

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lets-get-kraken-boys · 2 years

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I don't mean to be mean or rude but there were these people in my class who were wearing like REALLY revealing clothes and I've gotten an idea: How would yandere class 1A react to the reader who's usually an introvert suddenly wearing really revealing clothing since she wants to be noticed and doesn't want to be viewed as an introvert anymore? Tbh, this is actually what I'm thinking rn... it's like if I want to be noticed in my college these days, that's the step I'll have to take but I don't feel comfortable wearing such revealing clothes

~#~#~#~ Just a happy reminder that everyone is allowed to wear whatever they want, whenever they want! You can wear t-shirts, sweatpants, miniskirts, high heels, platforms, formal dresses, boxers, thongs; you can even walk around naked! I wouldn't recommend being fully nude outside, but you do you. Anyways, clothes don't determine who you are or what you identify as! ~#~#~#~

Also, I know you wrote Reader in your ask as female identifying (she/her), but I am going to continue writing them as gender neutral! Let me know if you have a problem with that.

✩࿐ Let's go! ✩࿐

〈〈═════»❣❤❣«═════〉〉

So, for starters, let's talk about the school days. Since the uniforms are pretty standard, it's a little hard to spruce them up to be "skimpier". If you choose to wear the women's uniform, you could pull up the skirt further up your hips so the hem brushes the tops of your thighs. Could even doll yourself up with a few accessories in your hair, on the clothes, or even some jewelry. If you choose to wear the men's uniform, you could pull a Bakugo by not wearing the tie or unbutton the top few buttons of your uniform. Show a little cleavage (both pecs and boobs can have cleavage. I don't discriminate between cleavage; all types are delicious 🤤). Paint your nails, wear some makeup; anything you can really!

Now, since most of the class keeps a close eye on you 24/7, they're gonna notice every little thing you do to yourself. From the way you wear your hair, to the shoes you skip down the halls in, to the exact scents you use for your shampoo and body sprays; nothing is secret to them. So, when they notice for the first time that your skirt's riding a little higher than normal, or they're getting a face full of your pec cleavage, their minds are flying all over the place. Everyone is going to have their eyes unconsciously drift to you every so often, or they're on you all the time.

Izuku and Uraraka are just blushing up a storm. Deku cannot stop looking at you—or, rather, your exposed skin. He swears he doesn't mean to be a pervert! You just look...so soft. It's killing him. He just wants to nuzzle up to you and forget the school day all together. When you try to talk to him throughout the day, he's just a ball of stutters, nervous giggles, and never-ending mumbles. But as soon as you turn your back, he is writing in his notebook, scribbling outfits that show the same amount (or even more) skin you're showing now that he believes you would look ethereal in. He also cannot stop writing things along the lines of 'They look so cute.', 'I can't look at them again! It's too much!', and 'How can I tell them how I feel when seeing them like this makes me forget my words?'

Ochaco's no better. She can't stop thinking about how sweet your thighs look. And how when you sit down, your skirt rides even higher up. You're such a little tease, can you even fathom what you're doing to her?! She's losing her mind; she's practically two seconds away from getting down on one knee and proposing to you right now. She's sighing in a puppy love manor, writing her name and your name together in the last page of her notebook. She's drawing little stick figures that are supposed to be you and her kissing, holding hands, hugging, basically doing everything together. Hearts and sparkles drawn in a pink glittery gel pen are everywhere on the page of art she has dedicated to you.

Some people are a little more uptight than others COUGH COUGH Iida COUGH COUGH and are gonna hound you throughout the day. The second you walk into the class, he is all over you. Iida's stuttering something about fixing your attire, something about how you are in a professional academy and you can't walk around looking like that and blah blah blah. Everything that is coming out of his mouth is just a flimsy coverup to try and hide the rapidly spreading blush seeping across his cheeks. How can you do this to him?!?! As the class president, he is ashamed of how he can't stop his eyes from drifting all across your body, but he can't stop. He desperately tries to focus on your adorable face, but he doesn't know how much longer he can keep up the façade of being a proper gentleman.

His commotion to your attire draws the attention of the rest of your friends. The room is then split between a mixture of squeals and yelling, and dead silence.

Across the class, Todoroki is falls quieter than usual. It's unnerving, he's acting like how he was the first few weeks of class, aloof and unapproachable. On the outside, he doesn't show much (what's new), but on the inside it's simultaneously a raging typhoon and a fervent volcanic eruption all at once. He feels his body heat up to a scorchingly dangerous level, and drop to a frost-biting chill in a matter of seconds. Shoto's poor brain can't wrap around what he's seeing. His darling, his everything, is fully on display (you are nowhere near that level, you're just showing a tiny amount more of skin LOL) for his eyes to see. It's like he's reached nirvana. He feels all warm and fuzzy inside, though his outside is still a staggering contrast of temperatures.

Bakugo cannot decide whether to be angry at you or angry at his idiot classmates. As he finally breaks his gaze from you, he watches the class's faces shift into hunger and desire and he decides. Yep. He's angrier at them than he is at you. But he understands where their desire is coming from. He's in the same sinking boat. He wants to look at your forever; say 'fuck it' to the lessons that day, scoop you into his arms, and run back to the dorms to hide you away for only him to see. He feels his palms heat up and leak sweat like a faucet from both the anxiety of how gorgeous you look and from the aggression of wanting to beat everyone around him into pulps for daring to peek at what’s his. He yells at everyone to stop their clamoring, shoving his face down to stare at the desk instead of your fucking cute nervous expression.

Kirishima is slack-jawed, heart-eyed. The real life combination of these two emojis: 😳😍. He's literally dying to feel how soft your skin is as he scans your body over and over again. It's like a song on repeat in his mind, encouraging his eyes to soak up as much of you as he can, forcing him to do it all over again multiple times. He feels like a cringy and awkward middle schooler seeing the contents of a pervy magazine, or a semi-naked person, for the first time. Then, it hits him. Kirishima isn't alone in seeing this newfound expanse of your body. As soon as that registers in his mind, he flips on a 180° and wants nothing more than to pull your skirt down or button your shirt himself. He wants to protect you from the disgusting eyes gaping at you. Kirishima snaps his jaw closed and bites his lip to keep in the growl forming at the back of his throat. His mind calculates all the people witnessing your beauty. He thinks he wants this image all to himself.

Denki, Sero, and Mina are panting like freaking dogs. They are eating up how you dressed today. Denki is privately thanking whatever god influenced you to dress yourself in this way today. Mina is squealing inside and out, thinking about how she feels like she's the main character in one of those romance manga she reads and how you're dressing like that to catch her attention alone (you’re not, but her theory is what she chooses to believe). Sero can't stop grinning all day because of how sweet you are, dressing in that manor to steal his attention (again, you’re not, but oh well). The two boys might even try to sneak a picture of you, but Mina quickly shuts that behavior down and makes them delete the photos thank goodness for our girlboss.

Tsu, Momo, Jiro, and Hagakure all cannot work up the courage to say how absolutely alluring you look today. Maybe they'll say it in flippant passing, but they cannot put into words how you truly make them feel. They’re antsy and nervously giggling all day whenever you get close, so much so that you think they have a fever. They’re just flustered because you’re stunning. Please don’t take their lack of words negatively! They’re obsessed with you, and that possessiveness clouds their better judgement at times. Secretly, they’re all planning how to successfully sneak into your dorm room and steal an item of your clothes to keep. Tsu and Hagakure are not known as the leading stealth heroes of Class 1-A for nothing~.

✩࿐

At first, they all thought it was an accident. Maybe you were just a little clumsy dressing yourself this morning! Maybe you're overly stressed and didn't even notice that you're showing more of yourself than you ever have! Yeah, that has to be it.

They only get concerned when you start to dress like this outside of school as well. Don't get them wrong, you look incredible (all of them are constantly drooling at the sight of the amount of skin you are showing off. They want to stroke, caress, pinch, and even bite every bit of it.), but they are worried. Ever since they first met you, you'd been so shy and reserved, so, why are you dressing so provocatively now?

Short skirts, crop tops, low cut shirts, everything under the sun that showed a little more and more was what you suddenly exclusively wore. Again, they know you can wear whatever you want to wear, but what happened to their shy (Y/N)?

A few of the girls sit down with you one day and have a chat about your shift in attire. You explain your dilemma to them, and they resonate with your change in demeanor. It's hard being labeled as one thing, and when you try to branch out to try something different, you’re looked at strangely. The change you choose to make my not be acknowledged in a positive light. They reassure you that they all love the style you're trying out, and how you look to die for, but you do not have to completely change who you are for anyone else.

Being comfortable in your own skin correlates with the clothes you wear that make you feel the most, well, you! If dressing in thinner, smaller fabric is what you enjoy now, then go right ahead! If you find that the former isn't working for you anymore, and you wish to dress in baggier, less attention-catching clothes, rock on. Whatever you wear, they will support you the best they can.

Though, that doesn't stop them from lashing out at creeps who stare at you for a bit too long~

〈〈═════»❣❤❣«═════〉〉

WHEEW. DAMN! I hope you guys like it. To the asker, I hope I fulfilled what you were looking for! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you have a wonderful day! :)

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howlingday · 6 months

Note

turns out every member of team rwby had a massive crush on the rusted knight and wanted to date/ be railed by him and even had self insert fanfics about it. now that they know it's jaune how do they try to make their fanfics real?

"What are you drawing, Ruby?"

"A picture of me an the Rusty Knight!" Showing off her crayon portrait of the Rusted Knight, his mount, and herself standing together in a flower field, Ruby's mother cooed at the drawing.

"My, my, what a wonderful drawing!" Summer smiled. "And what are you three doing together?"

"We're on an adventure!"

"Hmhmhm!" Summer chuckled. "You must have really loved that story last night, didn't you?"

"I'mma marry him, and then we'll adventure forever!"

Summer chuckled at her daughter's daydreaming of the fictional hero. Not even six and already dreaming of marriage. She was still so innocent, and Summer hoped that would never change.

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

"Would you like a kiss for your wounds, my lady?"

"No! Because I'm a big girl! Kisses are for babies!"

"Could you kiss me then? After all, only the coolest girls can kiss the coolest dudes."

"Yang, lunch is read-"

Yang slammed her notebook shut, twirling in her seat with a red face and a squeaky voice. "DAAAAAAAAAAD! KNOCK ON MY DOOR!"

"I did knock, sweetie~!"

"NO, YOU DIDN'T!" Yang stamped her feet.

"Sorry, sorry!" Taiyang stepped away. "Lunch is downstairs when you're done doing, er, whatever."

Yang huffed as she jumped off her seat, carefully hiding her notebook under a bunch of arts and crafts material in a drawer. She stamped to the door, looking back at the drawer to make sure it was safe. Nobody could ever know her dark secret.

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

"The Rusted Knight?" Nicholas looked down at his granddaughter. "Of course I've heard of him! In fact, it was his armor that inspired my set!"

Weiss rubbed a tiny hand against the white shirt her grandfather was wearing. It was soft, and underneath was soft, too. He wasn't wearing his armor. He hardly did in his own house.

"Lügner." Weiss softly said, pressing further into his belly.

"Ach!" Nicholas shouted, placing a free hand to his abdomen. " Mein bauch!"

Nicholas fell over to the floor, holding Weiss in the air. She giggled as she stared at his bearded face. Looking at him, he reminded her of the Rusted Knight, and his statements on his modeling after the fairy tale hero would only become more and more true.

"Say, would you like me to read you that story for you?"

Weiss' eyes lit up and she nodded fervously. He chuckled as he swung himself to his feet. Walking to the library, he pulled out the book and was about to read it when a pair of eyes stared at him.

"Come on, Winter. There's enough room for all of us." The older girl hurried over, taking her seat on the other side of their opa. To this day, it remains Weiss and Winter's most cherished of their shared memories.

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

"Thank you for meeting with me, Mister and Misses Belladonna."

Blake sat between her parents, red in the face. To think it would actually come to this. Her parents were going to kill her. Or worse, take away her books.

"Is everything alright?" Mom asked with worry in her voice.

"It is, but... In a recent assignment, Blake was tasked with writing a short story about herself and a fictional character in an interview." The teacher slid the assignment forward. "If you'd like, I can tell you without your reading."

Dad took the paper and gave it a quick read. And by quick read, he shoved it into Mom's hands after reading half a paragraph. Half of him was red with embarrassment and the other green with disgust.

She took the paper and almost immediately responded with, "Oh my!"

"As I'm sure you are both aware, we always encourage creativity in our students, but this..."

"No, no, we understand." Dad said with a burp. "We'll be sure this won't happen again."

The teacher and Dad spoke furthervon the subject, moreso than Blake EVER cared for. There was a hiss at her side, and she looked to Mom. She was pointing at a word. A very bad, bad, naughty word.

"This is spelled with an i, not an e."

#rwby #ruby rose #summer rose #yang xiao long #taiyang xiao long #weiss schnee #nicholas schnee #winter schnee #blake belladonna #ghira belladonna #kali belladonna

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notmusa · 10 months

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mmmmusaa... do you like to draw on graphed paper for any particular reason? i recently bought some to doodle on because i found it helps already having something on the paper to let loose. plain sketchbook paper is too clean or expensive feeling some days to really do the same.

yaaa, i think it tricks my brain into remembering a sketchbook is a place for working out ideas, loosening up, & making mistakes, not polished/finished works. it also reminds me of doodling in lined notebooks at school, back when i drew a lot more & there was way less imaginary "pressure" to make good art. just let ur mind wander & draw whatever dumb stuff u feel like for fun

i do keep several other sketchbooks for experimenting with different mediums on different types of paper. they get used less often tho bc i am going through a lifelong lazy phase

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bunnycat4 · 3 months

Text

hobby ideas!

these are some fun ideas of things to do. I would like to do a little reminder at the beginning that if you want to start doing anything, or want to try something, that it doesn't mean you have to like it. you are allowed to try to pick up a hobby, but then decide it's not for you, and you don't want to do it anymore. then you can drop it! that's all cool! and that, it's something I often find, that if I'm not as good at something as people I see, I feel as though I don't deserve to do it- if that makes sense. [I think it's called imposter syndrome. unsure.] but that's not true! and we have to remind ourselves that something we do for fun needn't carry any pressure to it. there is no need to get to a certain level or certain achievement in anything if you don't want to. there aren't rules to enjoying anything! so, if you're bored or want something to do. I make a list of potential

the list starts with things I do, and then I will go through activities I may not actively participate in

of course the first thing I will say is beading. I love beading and if you don't get too excessive with it, it can be quite cheap. I use pony beads, and I like elastic string, but it isn't a necessity. you can get supplies at most dollar shops or art stores I would say. beading is my main interest/hobby, so if you have any questions I am. very enthusiastic and open :]]

review writing is also something you can do. I do it in a notebook or in Google Keep or the Notes app, but I think you can do that anywhere really. you can watch movies or shows or read books and review them on what you think, even analyse it a little if you want. or you can review products if you want. I think it's fun to do, and I pretend I'm telling someone or putting it in the newspaper.

you can also do other types of writing, like poetry or story writing. fanfiction is always an option. vignettes are also a pretty easy thing to do i think. fake news articles. honestly you can write about anything.

origami. im not the best at origami, i can only fold really simple things but all you'd need is paper. If you want to be fancy you can get patterned origami paper in different sizes, but otherwise you can cut anything into a square and fold stuff

fanart forever ✨ i draw a lot of fanart when i cant think of any original stuff to draw. just draw little guys a lot. i find it fun to imagine animal characters as more humanoid.

playing games, either board/card games [i am a board game and card game enthusiast, i would love to talk about them] or online games. it's a fun thing to do and you can get your friends/family involved, or not.

trying recipes is also a fun thing to do. I am notoriously a bad cook but that does not stop me :D I like to try recipes from magazines. This may be a more costly thing to do, check what you have in your cupboard. if you like your neighbours enough you can give them things you make to get on their good side

experiment with makeup. with a cheap eyeliner you can do quite a lot of funky things. try out different styles and shapes, follow tutorials, copy references, etc. if you have sensitive skin you may have to be choosy with what products you buy, and it may take a while to find something that doesn't irritate you. also, would recommend using makeup remover before you go to bed, or whenever you want to take it off

doing your nails. this is another expensive one, i think. nail polish costs a fair bit if you want to get different colours, but its a fun thing to do if your bored. im not sure if the chemicals in nail polish actually matters so i cannot advise on that, but i usually pick up a bottle from the health food store whenever im there.

paint anything. you could paint pictures or buy those things from art stores or bunnings that you can paint. I like painting coasters. you could also paint bottle caps and stick safety pins on the back to make little badges

make/decorate hair clips/pins/headbands. These things are pretty cheap i think, and you might be likely to have some lying around in your home. decorate by sticking stuff on them, like little toys or beads and other things you find

clay. im unsure about the actual price of clay. but you can do quite a few things with it. you can buy airdrying clay from department stores, it takes a couple of days to dry in my experience

loom bands. they are selling them again and they are pretty easy to do. you can spend days on end making them. there are many possibilities

knitting or crocheting. I can actually only french knit but i am learning to crochet. wool 👍 and whatever tools you need

journalling. I'm not sure if that counts as a hobby but i think its good. there are a few different types of journalling and you can find prompts. i have some journalling stuff from my therapist [you do not need to be mentally ill to journal. to clarify.] which i can share if anyone wants? but its fun to talk to yourself and feel more useful for it. just talk about anything

ah, another jewellery making thing. i should have organised this list better. I might redo it later. but you can make woven friendship bracelets by tying little knots and stuff in embroidery thread

you could also do embroidery with said embroidery thread. I dont really remember how to do it anymore but i could ask my friends. Yeah.

paper filigree. I tried this one time and never finished it. probably start by buying a kit. it looks pretty cool

customising clothes, if you have clothes you want to do that with. You could embroider on them or sew little cutouts of fabric on. tie-dye is also something you can do. unsure of how expensive that is.

making pom-poms! you can make them out of wool and a fork and scissors. also stick googly eyes on them to make lil soot sprites :33 which is cute. and hang them on your bags maybe

collaging, maybe. Cut up magazines and stuff, and glue

does going on walks count as a hobby? sometimes i do that when im bored. just walk to a park or a trainstation or anything nearby, or just in a circle. and talk to myself or listen to music or make up stuff about the houses around me, maybe talk to dogs/neighbours.

make flower crowns or clover crowns

make playlists! making playlists is really easy and you can make them for pretty much anything. i make playlists for incredibly specific situations and also for every month of every year. Its a greaaat way to keep track of your mental state as time goes on and ensure you dont get bored of your music. since you'll have loads of playlists. You can also make character playlists and oc playlists and playlists for everyone you know that you'd never show to them.

joining a club is definitely not a hobby but is something you can do for fun. and you get to talk to people which i know gives me a sense of achievement. and you can always drop out after one day 👍

make edits of characters, if that makes sense. like, play songs behind them and cover them in sparkles or something

colouring in, that's a good thing if you dont want to draw. you can buy a colouring book or download and print off of the internet. there are a lot of options in colouring in

gardening as well. you dont necessarily have to plant stuff, you could just weed your garden or pick flowers and put them on your dining table. or you could look after a succulent

do courses on random topics. again, may not be a hobby. but there are places you can do courses for free

reorganising things like your bookshelf, your furniture, your wall, your cupboards

on that topic, decorating your home is also something you can do! Stick things on your walls, line up things you collect. it has the benefit of making you feel more at home and express yourself. I find it calming

sewing stuff. I think this is also more costly if you want to buy patterns. buttt idk.

birdwatching or animal watching in general. you could list what you see or just observe, or even sketch/draw the creatures you find interesting or cool

is plantwatching a word? probably not. but you could walk around and see what little plants you see. and you could get little bits of plants you like and stick them in your journal or press them. you could even keep a plant journal.

nature photography, or photography in general. you could get fancy and use a fancy camera, or really just your phone is surely fine

you could make films maybe. I think that it wouldn't be too difficult to get supplies for that

that's all I've thought of for now! I might add more later, or feel free to add on if you have more ideas! remember that whatever you do, make sure to take breaks every now and again, drink water, eat, go to the bathroom, etc :))

tagging @sleepy-vix because she wanted to be tagged

#cookie talks #long post #I wanted to colour in all the important words but tumblr wont let me for some reason #Sorry for my terrible formatting

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the-au-thor · 29 days

Text

Babysitting Mun | Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Note: So, a lot of you asked me for more parts to the little thing I wrote for rockstar!Eddie and you know you should ask and I'll deliver. If you like this I'll add more parts into this "series" cause I kinda like the dynamic between Assistant!Reader and Rockstar!Eddie.

Part 1

W/C: 3.2k

T/W: Read here!

As you walked through Eddie's property in Hollywood Hills, you saw him opening the door in his black velvet robe with his old D&D club emblem printed on the back. He had a worried expression on his face, and his legs were nervously fidgeting.

"It's my day off, Munson," you greeted as you reached his door.

He said your least favorite six words.

"Fey, I'm in a big trouble," he announced, opening the door and letting you into the huge foyer of his house.

It was a huge mess; underwear scattered on the floor, candy wrappers, empty bottles, and frankly, you didn't want to dig through the scattered blankets that left a trail upstairs. You looked at him impatiently, trying not to scream at him because that mess wasn't your home, and he could do whatever he wanted with it.

"This looks like a quiet Friday night, Munson, like any citizen of this beautiful city would have," you mentioned ironically.

Living a few blocks away was Marilyn Manson, Eddie could really recognize your tone.

"I met this girl: Baby," he said.

You blinked slowly.

"Cute name, I think my gynecologist also uses that stage name."

Eddie ignored your sardonic comment as he walked through the trash on the floor.

"She spent the night here, and it was amazing; sexy girl, beautiful blonde with... really long legs..."

You wanted to vomit.

"Munson. I'm not just another guy in your circle of friends, that's information I don't need to know," you reminded him with a churned stomach. "Why am I even here after receiving a call from you with a catastrophe voice?" you asked as he led you to his kitchen. Before entering, he looked at you with concern. You hadn't even seen him like this when he trashed the Marriott room, and photos of that night were leaked on a very famous morning show next day "Tell me she's not floating dead from an overdose in your pool because I'm telling you right now that I quit," you announced seriously.

He pressed his lips and stretched his arm toward the kitchen door; his robe opened, and you managed to see a bit of his chest full of tattoos covering the scars he never wanted to talk about.

"Worse," he announced before opening the door.

His huge kitchen greeted you. Everything seemed in order except for the dishwasher, which had a pile of dirty dishes. You scanned it, moving your gaze across the countertop and appliances until you reached the end of the marble table adorning the center of his kitchen, where a little boy with a curious knitted hat was sitting, concentrating on drawing something on a notebook with markers.

You closed the door to shout at Eddie without scaring the child.

"There's a kid in your kitchen," you pointed out, shocked with a muffled squeal. "What's a kid doing in your house, for God's sake. This is not a place for a child; this is not even a place for me."

"I don't know!" he whispered back, ignoring your offensive comment. That's when you knew he was really worried. "I went down this morning to make myself a smoothie, and I found him in the same spot. Little brat doesn't hear anything I say."

"Yeah? Well, sometimes I wish I didn't hear all the things you say," you frowned, opening the kitchen door again and walking toward the kid.

The little one had reddish strands peeking out from the edges of his hat and seemed clean and calm despite being alone in a huge house with a stranger who couldn't take care of himself properly. Unfazed, the kid continued coloring a drawing in his notebook, and you noticed a Animaniacs backpack behind him.

"Hey," you greeted him, then saw him coloring a dark-skinned man in what seemed to be a family portrait. You introduced yourself as you sat next to him. "What's your name?"

"I shouldn't talk to strangers," the child finally muttered, revealing a sweet and calm voice.

You smiled, almost proud that an unknown child could take care of himself despite, what? Being about 5 or 6 years old?

"That's okay," you nodded. "But you shouldn't be in a stranger's house either," you murmured, trying to reason with the child.

Eddie lost patience, after pinching the bridge of his nose, he put his palms on the island's surface, making the child stop coloring and look at him, scared.

"Where's your mother?" he asked.

"Munson!" you scolded him, but he didn't seem to regret his little outburst, especially since he at least got a reaction from the kid.

"For crying out loud, Fey, I've tried asking him a hell numerous times about his mother, and he still won't answer," Eddie explained, pointing his finger at the child.

"She said she'd come for me; I don't know if she mentioned anything else while she was with you," the kid spoke seriously, and you noticed that Eddie wasn't very well-liked.

Eddie pressed his lips and pointed his index finger at him.

"Look, you little sh..."

"Oh, okay!" you stood up to intervene, taking Eddie by the shoulders. "You know, superstar? I think I can handle it from here. You go..." you looked at him closely; he was wearing mismatched socks, and his hair was a mess "go brush your teeth and... wash yourself" you started pushing him out of the kitchen.

"I need you to fix this, Fey."

You frowned and lowered your voice.

"I should let you fix it yourself, you know?" you asked. "But that kid isn't to blame if his mother prefers a man over his own safety," you spat angrily and laughed sardonically, "you sure know how to pick 'em," you murmured almost disdainfully.

You had never criticized his flings, even when the most terrible girls had done the walk of shame right in front of you, you had kept your opinions to yourself. Moreover, you also acknowledged a severe emotional problem in Eddie, something about fear of commitment, yet seeking love as long as he was safe from getting hurt. Still, you hadn't opened your mouth to comment on it. This was the limit.

"I'll find out about his parents and try to contact her," you assured him before closing the kitchen door in his face without letting him defend himself and turning to look at the child who watched the exchange you and Eddie had had.

"I hate mom's boyfriends," the child finally admitted before returning to his coloring.

You sighed somewhat sadly for him; it was clear he was more than used to being in strange houses with people he didn't know.

"I know, but the good thing is that the grumpy one over there is not her boyfriend, so don't hate him too much, okay?" you asked, although you really didn't owe Eddie anything. You sat back down next to him. "Did your mommy give you any instructions before she left?"

The boy shrugged.

"She said to be a good boy, not to bother, and that she would come to get me before the day ended."

You nodded uncertain about what the hell that could mean to that woman "before the day ended."

"Okay," you picked up your cell phone and called Florence, the housekeeper, to start cleaning up the mess Eddie left in the main room and probably in his bedroom as well. You didn't want to find out, to be honest

"I clean too, you know…when my mom is too tired to do anything," the kid said when you finished the call.

You looked at the child and squinted thoughtfully.

"How old are you?"

"I'm turning eight next month."

You raised your eyebrows.

"Great, have someone ever told you that you're very mature for a seven-year-old? It's good that you take care of your mom."

The boy looked up from his notebook and glanced at you for a few seconds.

"My name is Tobias, they call me Toby."

You smiled.

"Nice to meet you, Tobias, I already told you my name, right?"

"But he called you Fey."

You chuckled when you saw that he was referring to Eddie.

"Yeah, he kind of plays by his own rules, so don't worry, Toby," you leaned on the island and smiled at him. "Toby, this is not a place for a child, and if I take you with me, it will be difficult for your mother to find you. Is there any way I can contact someone else from your family?" you asked, hoping the kid had at least one functional adult who could help him.

The child seemed pensive.

"I have my emergency information in my backpack," he recalled, and you smiled relieved, jumping away from the island and going for his backpack.

"All right, Toby, did you eat anything?"

"Mom gave me cereal before she left," he changed markers and continued drawing carefully.

"Cereal doesn't sound enough, do you want me to make you some toast with eggs and bacon? Honestly, I'm famished and could use something to eat," you announced as you prepared the food for Toby.

When Eddie and the band weren't on tour, you made sure to fill Eddie's fridge and pantry with things that weren't preheated and frozen food. When you were hired as his assistant over a year ago, this wasn't part of your duties, but you couldn't see him get intoxicated with poorly frozen pizza again. It was easier to keep track of his diet when you were on tour with them; they spent most of their time together, and that's when he behaved the best. It was during breaks like these when he lost a bit of control and got into trouble he couldn't handle alone.

You and Toby ate, and you saved some for Eddie whenever he wanted to came down from his room, already bathed and dressed in something more than just underwear and a robe. Florence went to the kitchen to clean up the mess Eddie had left there, and you went to the living room where the housekeeper made magic. When Eddie came down from his room, he was wearing an old black-sleeved shirt and worn-out jeans. His feet, however, were bare, showing the tattoos he had gotten a few weeks ago.

"Finally," you stood up with your phone when you saw Eddie starting to walk to the sofa and looking at Toby with despair. He looked at you somewhat impatiently.

"And he's still here," he rolled his eyes slightly resigned and sighed.

"I'm sorting that out now; I need you to stay with Toby for a few minutes. His mother hasn't shown any signs of life, but I have his father's contact," you asked him with a low voice so that Toby, sitting on the sofa while trying to solve some math problems from his algebra class, wouldn't hear.

"Oh, so the little Boggle has a name," he said sarcastically.

"Behave!" you asked him with a frown and approached him to wipe shaving foam from his chin as he obediently stood still. "We left French toast and egg with bacon for you," you announced, while going to the kitchen to prepare Toby's food.

Eddie rolled his eyes slightly resigned and sighed.

"Great: he stays in my house, eats my food, and now I have to be his babysitter."

"Yeah, Munson," you nodded, "it's good for you to occasionally taste your own medicine."

"You better find that kid's father, Fey; it's been a while since I dealt with kids, and I wasn't very good at it either," he admitted.

"Yeah, yeah," you started dialing Toby's father's number and walked to the backyard so as not to have an awkward conversation in front of the kid. "Do me a favor and don't create emotional permanent scars on him, okay?"

He made a face, sticking his tongue out and hissing like a snake, earning Toby's curious look.

"What?" Eddie asked. "Have you never been a kid in your life?"

Toby settled on the sofa somewhat tense.

"Sometimes I stick my tongue out at mom when she doesn't see me," he admitted.

Eddie watched him; he was a little goblin with round glasses and somewhat chubby. Not only was he lost, but he seemed lost, and suddenly for a brief moment, Eddie saw himself in a corner of the cafeteria where his mom worked, drawing magical creatures in an old notebook while waiting for it to be midnight so his mom's shift would end and he could go home. His mom would never have left him alone in a stranger's house, of course. The kid's mother was hot, but stupid, totally stupid.

"Okay, Pip, what are you doing?" Eddie saw his notebook and closed it even to the little protest of the child. "You're not going to be doing this on a Saturday in my house; you're what? Four?"

"I'm turning eight," he said through gritted teeth.

"You and I are going to listen to music, okay? Have you ever heard music before?"

"I'm seven, not an alien," he replied, almost offended.

Eddie went to pick a record from his vinyl collection and gave you a knowing smile.

"Let's educate you, Pip."

"My name isn't Pip," the kid said tiredly, remembering what you had told him about Eddie playing by his own rules.

Eddie then put the record on his record player, and the music started playing.

Tobias's father was leaving his job at the mechanic downtown to go pick him up from Eddie's house. Having a conversation with him wasn't difficult, and he seemed genuinely concerned about his son, so at least you were getting back inside Eddie's house with the relief of returning the kid to someone who actually cared. You heard the music before stepping inside the house, Toby's laughter mixing with Eddie's and Kevin Rowland's voice. When you passed by the living room, Eddie had managed to get the kid to leave the notebook aside and had taken off his shoes to dance to the music, mimicking Eddie in his delirious spiral as he tried to play air guitar following the notes of Geno.

You watched them; Eddie's still wet hair bouncing around his face as he encouraged Toby to follow the music and listen to the bass because that's where the beat is or something like that. You leaned against the wall to watch their act for the rest of the song. Your stomach did that again; every time Eddie showed some substance beneath that tough shell of indifference.

You disappeared from there and only returned to announce that Toby's father had arrived to pick him up, finding Eddie trying to teach him a cooler way to tie his shoelaces. You smiled at the kid and guided him to his father who was waiting outside with his well-maintained Volkswagen. Toby ran to his father, and he hugged him lovingly; there was no trace of neglect.

"I really appreciate you taking care of him; I don't know how to repay you," he thanked you, still holding the boy in his arms. The man had somewhat dark skin and curly hair, like Toby's. "My ex-wife is a bit careless and thinks everyone can take care of him. I'll talk to her; I know this looks bad."

"It's not your fault," you began to deny, but Eddie took over the conversation.

"Tell her she's a very S-H-I-T-T-Y mother, and I hope she appreciates the son she has," he mentioned bluntly in a low voice so that Toby wouldn't hear.

You slightly chuckled because Eddie had at least meant well by insulting Toby's mother without him noticing.

"Eddie, I'm seven, I already know how to spell," the boy wriggled out of his father's embrace to give Eddie a furrowed brow.

Well, at least he had the intention. It didn't work, but it's the thought that counts.

"I'm Nelson, by the way," he introduced himself, shaking Eddie's hand. "I'm sorry you had to be my son's babysitter."

"I'm sorry I slept with your ex," Eddie mentioned bluntly, without mincing words, and close to the guy's ear so that Toby wouldn't hear.

"No problem," he even seemed amused by it. "Lilian is free to do what she wants."

So she has a name…

Eddie gave you a sidelong glance, and you just smiled back at Nelson because you wouldn't throw one of your witty sarcastic comments.

Finally, Toby said goodbye to Eddie, and you could see a sad gleam in his eyes, seeming like a huge difference from the way the kid had looked at him annoyed that morning in the kitchen. Eddie Munson, of course, would manage to win over the kid whose mother had put aside for a brief fling with a rocker who you were sure would end up being just a forgettable event. You hugged Toby, trying not to lose your composure, reminding yourself that the kid wasn't your responsibility, and bid them both farewell with a smile.

You and Eddie watched the car disappear behind the large fortified gates of his mansion, and then you heard him chuckle.

"She was sexier when she was Baby, not Lilian," he murmured humorously.

You raised a slight smile and laughed, crossing your arms to look at him sideways.

"And when she was just a girl with long legs and not a S-H-I-T-T-Y mother, huh?" Eddie rolled his eyes but didn't refute your comment. "You'd be a very B-A-D-A-S-S father by the way."

He frowned quickly, incredulous.

"What the hell are you talking about, Fey?"

You turned to him, trying to hide your smile.

"About you with Toby; you won him over, Mun. I think when you decide to settle down and stop doing stupid shits that I have to save you from, you'll be a very good father."

He blinked rapidly, incredulous.

"Did you find the jewelry box in my underwear drawer and smoke whatever was inside?"

You frowned.

"a) I would never go through your underwear drawer by my own will, and b) thanks for telling me where you hide your crap," you replied quickly. "I'm not joking, Munson, I mean it from the heart."

He seemed to hate that idea, although something in his gaze seemed somewhat moved, but he quickly made it disappear with a look of disgust.

"Not gonna discuss that with you, Fey. I won't be a good father 'cause I'm never gonna be a father in first place"

You frowned ready to argue about that

"But, Munson..."

"Feywild, I pay you to be my assistant, not my motivational coach; assist me."

"Fine, I already assisted you on my day off, so I think this is my cue to leave," you went for your bag into his Foyer, and when you came out, Eddie was waiting for you in the same place, in the opulent entrance of his home next to the marble pillars holding the front facade. "I hope I don't have to come because you adopted another one of your girl's babies, okay?" you asked, but you weren't really blaming him for anything.

Eddie noticed it from the way you looked at him, and you decided to do that small servile bow that, unwittingly, you always did when you said goodbye to him or accepted one of his complicated tasks. He saw you start walking out, where you surely parked your car.

"Feywild," he called you, and you turned to him. You had strands of your hair on your face, and he saw your slightly worn-out converse sneakers, which you always wore even though you had money to replace them but for some reason were emotionally attached to them.

He could tease you about it, but he wouldn't. He understood without you explaining it because there was a reason he kept his old van in his garage with the same scraped paint.

"What's up, Munson, already missing me?"

He smiled. "Thanks for saving my ass today."

You pressed your lips into a smile. "Always, Mun."

#eddie munson x female reader #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie munson x assistant!reader #rockstar eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson frenemies to lovers #corroded coffin #eddie munson #stranger things fanfic #stranger things au #edie munson au

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remusmoonbaby · 11 days

Note

hiii! it's me again! how u doing? tbh i had this idea, sirius outlining and drawing on remus' scars to 'make them look really pretty' so that remus doesn't find them ugly oh and maybe remus trying to do the same for sirius if he has any scars from his birth parents when they practically abused him and in my head remus is terrible at art but he tries his best and it makes sirius so happy this made me all mushy and sad and happy inside like help me please ⎯🐝

HI~! I’m doing good love how are you? 🥰

OMG— give me a sec I just got really soft reading this and im about to cry cause this is so cute—!!! But i got you 🐝 anon ! 🩷

It was a nice, sunny afternoon where you could find majority of the students of Hogwarts outside enjoying the much needed sun.

But not Sirius and Remus...

Remus wanted to go back to his house common room to catch up on some of the studying he had left to do.

Sirius? He of course followed behind Remus because well...it's Sirius and he loves Remus, so much so that he's willing to ditch James and his request to fly their brooms together. James is crying in the corner to Lily about that.

"Sirius, didn't James ask you if you wanted to fly your broom with him?" Remus asked his boyfriend without looking away from what he was reading.

"Yes."

"And, why aren't you outside with him?"

"Wanted to watch you study instead." Sirius said in the most obvious tone that there was, that he was honestly surprised that Remus was even asking him such a silly question.

Remus sighs and shakes his head slightly with a quiet chuckle. "I'm not surprised, but you now James will whine to you about this later."

"He'll live." Sirius said as he stretched himself against the chair he was sitting on.

Comfortable silence fell between the two of them as Remus started to write down notes of what he just read on.

Sirius found himself zoning out while looking at Remus's side profile. He couldn't help it, I mean Remus is a very handsome young man, though he doesn't seem to accept that he is, Sirius couldn't help but just admire. The way Remus's sandy brown hair fell down over his eyes, which reminds Sirius that he needs to trim his hair, to the way his lips pout slightly as he's in deep thought of what he's doing. The scars...Sirius loves admiring Remus’s scars.

Of course Sirius understood Remus’s outlook on his scars, he out of everyone understood. But that didn’t change Sirius’s mind on how he finds them absolutely fascinating on Remus. Just the way they adorn his features and skin…it’s just beautiful.

Without much thought, Sirius took hold of Remus’s quill that laid between the notebook he’s using for his quick notes. Sirius took hold of Remus’ free hand and started to lightly trace the scars that were on the back of his hand.

“What are you doing?” Remus asks as he looks down towards Sirius, curious as to what he’s trying to do.

“Shh, don’t worry about it. Just continue reading.” Sirius muttered as he started to concentrate on the fine lines he’s creating around the scars.

Not wanting to move much, Remus sets the book he’s reading down onto the table and placed his head on his free hand, and watched Sirius detail the scars on the back of his hand.

Sirius has always been good in the art department. So even the simplest thing, such as creating fine lines, in Remus eyes it was absolute perfection.

The moment Sirius finished with the hand, Remus automatically gave him the other hand for him to create the lines on the scars littered around his hand.

Once done with both of the hands, Sirius pulls away and examines the work he did. A satisfied smile dances across his face as he looked down at Remus' hands. "Perfect. You look so much prettier now...if that was even possible." Sirius mumbled before looking at Remus with the happy expression on his face.

Remus knew he had heart eyes when he looked at Sirius, and saw how happy he was for just simple line art.

To be honest, Remus doesn't know why he does it knowing that art isn't his best subject like...at all. But he gently takes hold of both his quill and Sirius hand where he knew holds the most scars.

Not wanting to say anything so Remus wouldn't get flustered and basically "run away." Sirius just admires the way Remus tries to hold his breath to calm his shaky hand as he lightly, and shakingly starts to draw, trying to draw, the same fine lines Sirius did on him.

As Remus finished, he felt his face heat up as he fully took in the sight of the jagged lines he drew on Sirius's hand. "Sorry...m'not the best." He said sheepishly.

Sirius looks down at the jagged lines that Remus created on the scars he's gotten in his younger years, and couldn't help but smile widely at Remus who looks at him with such an intense blush and shy smile, that it just made Sirius all that much more happier.

"It's perfect. Thank you Moony." Sirius said as he gave Remus a quick little kiss on the cheek.

"Now we both look even more prettier together." He whispered into Remus's ear causing the werewolf wizard to flush a deeper red and stutter on his words.

BONUS CONTENT:

"Lily...Sirius left me for Remus." James pouted to his red head girlfriend about his best friend abandoning, really flaking on his plans with James for Remus.

Lily sighs as she pats James messy head. "You know Sirius just wants alone time with Remus."

"But he was supposed to go flying with me!" James whined.

"You're acting like he's your boyfriend, hon."

"It feels like he broke up with me."

"Oh Merlin's beard."

#🐝 anon ♥.｡#Remus Lupin #Sirius black #wolfstar #marauders #marauders era #remus and sirius #marauders imagines #wolf star #wolfstar imagines #wolfstar forever

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ghostly-penumbra · 24 days

Text

Father and Sons

Ao3 FFN

Summary: Clockwork is Danny's loving, adoptive grandpa. Time is the Endless neglectful father. They are one and the same.

[Chapter One]

Chapter Two: Introduction

- - -

Danny glared at the pages of his book willing them to make sense through his mounting headache.

“C’mon, Fenton this isn’t rocket science!”

“Actually,” his book said, closing itself in his grasp and using its pages as a mouth, “I am.” It turned, showing Danny its cover with the title Rocket Science for Stressed College Ghosts by D. J. F.

“Oh, yeah, you are. Still, though,” he opened the book again, finding his childhood drawing of himself astride a rocket, “gotta keep my mind in the game.”

“Daniel Fenton.”

Danny looked up at the sound of his name and found a guy around his age who reminded him of himself in a weird, funhouse-mirror kinda way.

He was as pale as snow (no, really!) with wild white hair that defied gravity and green eyes as bright as the emerald gleaming on his chest, which was the only speck of colour in an otherwise solid white ensemble.

Before Danny could ask him if he needed anything, he realized something, “Oh, this is a Dream.” He stood up and found his sleeping body drooling all over his notebook, with several empty cups of coffee around him like a summoning circle. (One to which he wouldn’t mind being summoned to, if he was honest.)

“Would you walk with me, Daniel?” The guy asked.

With the ease of one who’s dreaming, Danny said, “I don’t really like leaving my body behind…”

“Your soul remains attached to it, it would just be your consciousness being away.”

Danny looked at his sleeping form for another half moment before nodding, “Yeah, okay.”

They left the library together, walking through the campus unperceived by those still up and about.

“I know you, right? You seem familiar.” Asked Danny at last.

“Yes, we have met before. Almost a hundred years ago for me, though I doubt it’s been so long for you. And it never actually happened, in the end.”

“You’re Clockwork’s son!” The halfa exclaimed as if it had made perfect sense. Since he was dreaming, it had. “Sorry, last time you… looked different.”

Dream of the Endless nodded, and his green eyes gave way to the visage of a starry night sky. “I was different.” He whispered, more to himself than Danny.

“I didn’t think I’d see ya again, if I’m being honest.” At the inquisitive sound Dream made, Danny elaborated, “I’ve met some of your siblings and, well, I know I’m not you guys’ favorite person, even if you don’t mess with me ‘n’ stuff…”

“Yes.” Dream nodded. “I imagine.”

After another moment of silence, the Endless spoke again.

“I came to you to ask for a favour.” Danny looked at him curiously, and Dream procured a bent, artsy-looking pocket watch from his white coat. “I’ve finally retrieved my father’s saeculum; it must be returned to him. I don’t wish to bother him again, so I believe it would be better to ask you to deliver it when next you visit him, if you are amenable.”

“Of course no problem.” Danny took the watch in his hands and turned it this way and that. “Huh, I think I’ve seen him working on this.” He said awkwardly to fill the silence.

Danny stared at Dream, his lips pursed and Dream stared back, impassive.

“I don’t mind helping you out with this, but… you could… go and visit him, that’d be cool. I think he would like that.” Danny finally said not meeting the other’s eye.

“My father has made it quite clear he doesn’t.” Dream said. “You were there, Daniel.”

“Yes! I- I know, but… if it’s a social visit, he’ll like it, I’m sure of that.” Dream looked at him hard, incredulous, and Danny sighed. “Look, I know Clockwork is not the best father he could be, and that’s on him not on you or your siblings, but… I care about him, yeah? And he’ll probably ground me for saying this, but he’s lonely! And I… just… think that if you came over just to say hi, he’d like that.”

They had stopped walking, and Danny still couldn’t look Dream in the eye, his gaze instead on his white shoes.

“I don’t need your help.” Dream said after a moment and Danny flinched, afraid he had overstepped and now Clockwork’s son would go to him himself and throw Danny’s words to his face and- “But I was curious;” the Endless continued over Danny’s internal panicking, making him halt and finally look up into starry eyes, “as I said, last time we met, I was different, other. Whatever my predecessor, the first Dream of the Endless thought of you is out of my reach, but looking at these memories… I’m curious as to what kind of person is the one my father favours so that he has adopted you as his grandson, doting on you as he doesn’t on his children.”

Danny felt himself being measured, his worth put on a scale against his grandpa’s seven children for their right to him.

He knew it wasn’t a competition because he had already won. That didn’t make him feel good.

“I see now that you love him, independently of whatever boon he granted you, but you don’t covet his attention, so he doesn’t deny it to you. You see him as other than his post so he presents himself to you that way.”

Danny didn’t know what to say, he probably didn’t understand everything that was being not said by his chosen grandpa’s son.

He couldn’t say ‘he’s not that bad, really’ without having to omit ‘to me’ and he didn’t want to lie so he just changed the topic. Or rather, he came back on topic.

“I’ll give him the sæculum next time I see him, and you won’t owe me anything, I’ll do it gladly,” he looked again at the surrealistic piece of art, wondering what was its purpose, before looking back at Dream, “but please, just think about it that’s all I ask.” He finished with a small, helpless shrug.

“I will consider it, but I can’t promise you anything.” Dream said, and Danny almost sighed in relief, but held it back. “But regardless of that…” The Endless began again, and Danny straightened, as he felt he was the one in the other’s debt, “my father has taken you in as his grandson and that makes us family.”

Danny blinked, startled, and waited for Dream to elaborate on that, but when he didn’t Danny assumed he must’ve missed some social cue and hurried to answer, “I mean, that’s- optional, y’know? With it being a symbolic adoption and all, not even legal though very real for us. You don’t have to. I wouldn’t want ya to feel some, obligation if you don’t want to be-”

“I want to.”

Danny stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the person-shaped concept facing him, speechless.

“I want to be your family, Danny. If you are amenable to it.”

“I- that’s- ah, I, I don’t- yeah! Yes.” Danny said, mind still lagging. “That, I’d like that.”

#Danny Phantom #The Sandman #Danny Fenton #Dream of the Endless #Daniel Hall #Clockwork #Father Time #ghostly-scrypts

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annadiplosis · 10 months

Photo

I’VE HAD THIS BLOG FOR 10 YEARS

Here’s to many more years of fish, vampires, aliens and bird people! To everyone who follows me and/or has praised my art, in any way, at any point, thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

I’ll be ranting about art progress and style changes under the cut, but before that, just a reminder that I’m going through a complicated time in my life and if you want to support me and my art there’s a few ways to do so.

Now back to my goofy doodles.

Maybe because I've drawn ever since I can remember, I've never felt a ton of pressure to improve my art skills. It's always been something I knew was going to happen as long as I kept drawing, and that's what I've been doing. I try not to stress too much about staying consistent with my practice or achieving any self-imposed goals. I like to discover what I'm able to do, one drawing at a time.

I also believe progress is not linear, and not every single piece is better than the last. While my 2023 art shows a higher skill level than that of 2013, I think some of my older work looks perfect the way it is. I'm drawn to expressiveness, movement, and compelling characters, and that can be achieved at any level. I've gotten better at some technical aspects, of course; my linework is far more decisive than it was before, and my endless battle with color palettes gets easier every day. I'm also capable of unwillingly drawing the crappiest, most horrendous doodle you've ever seen, just as I was in 2013. Just as we all are. I'm not sure why I find that reassuring, but I do.

When I started this blog, what really worried me was developing a distinct style. I studied other artists and stole specific elements of their work, sometimes drawing and redrawing the exact same thing until I was satisfied with the result. At some point, and I can't exactly tell you when or why, I stopped caring about that. It's not that I thought I'd found My Perfect Style, because that doesn't exist. I guess I started focusing on other stuff, and that's when my actual style started coming together. I followed my instincts, tried to strike a balance between what came naturally to me and what I was envisioning every particular piece to look like, and it worked. Any alteration my style has gone through since then has been unplanned and intuitive, and I can't see myself approaching art in any other way. I'm excited to discover what kind of artist I'll be in ten more years.

Thanks for reading this far! Warm regards from me and every notebook I've used since opening this blog (#9 to #37 in my overall archive) ♡

#artists on tumblr #art summary #art progress #art #notebooks

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thispatternismine · 2 months

Text

ATLA live action impressions part 2

Following on from last night's post, here are my impressions of eps 5-8

Still really loved it. Gonna be tarred & feathered for this but I actually like it better than the animated show

Highlights:

Ozai giving Zuko credit for finding the Avatar. There's this weird idea in the fandom that Ozai never intended to take Zuko back. Even though we saw him do exactly that at the beginning of Book 3. Yes he set an impossible task, but when Zuko (apparently) achieved it, he was like 'ok yeah cool - you have met my standards'. Sure, there's no way Zuko would have continued to meet those standards if he'd stuck around, but Ozai did actually keep his word. The fact that he does it to make sure Azula knows she's overstepped & remind her she's replaceable, is an especially nice touch

Getting to see how Azula is treated by her father. I've seen way too many people try to claim Azula was never abused because she wasn't literally set on fire like he was. Never mind that she avoided that fate only because she was able to meet his standards. And having to constantly strive to meet the standards set by someone who thinks 'find a guy who's been missing for a century' is a suitable task to set his kid is abuse.

Another annoying tendency of the fandom is to flanderise Ozai into some diabolical caricature who spends all his time thinking up new ways to torment poor Zuzu, so having that scene of him banishing Zuko was a nice touch. He genuinely believes he is being a good dad & raising his kid to be strong (note: This isn't me saying Ozai is right - I'm saying he thinks he's right.)

The 41st Division 😭

Iroh & Ozai interacting with each other

Gyatso!

I spy some female soldiers! A problem with the animated show was that it's all well & good deciding that the Fire Nation has female soldiers, but bias is a thing & 99.9% of the time if you ask someone to draw a soldier it'll be a man. Yeah sure they all stayed to guard the Fire Nation that's why we didn't see any till Book 3 suuure

"Anything you need." "It has to do with Koh." "Anything but that." DYING

Aang's whole speech to Zuko about how helpful his notebook was (let's be real Iroh probably sighed & told him it was a waste of time so this was the first time he heard 'Hey good job on the Avatar research!') & the way they bonded before he unwittingly set Zuko off

"Quit it before they think there's something wrong with you. More than there already is."

"The Firelord deems your performance... below average." OOF. Pretty sure that's the worst thing you can possibly say to Azula. She'd much rather be told she sucked outright than just 'meh'

Waterbender Yue

Non-arsehole Hahn

Using Kuruk lore from the Kyoshi books!

I like the changes to the NWT siege. Having the spirits' mortality be an occasional, temporary thing to gain an appreciation of life that occurs during a full moon when the powers of those who will protect them in that state are at their peak, makes more sense than permanent vulnerability that relies on nobody finding out. Also never made sense that a naval officer was stationed in a fucking desert & was able to just take time off to go through a spirit library, so having Zhao find his info from the Fire Sages works better IMO. I do hope we'll still get the spirit library though

Ozai's lil eyetwitch when Azula backtalked him like if you agree

Haven't mentioned yet but I love the costumes in this

Also never mentioned Momo, the Real Hero of ATLA

Sokka continues to be awesome

Lowlights:

June calling Iroh cute & fawning over him. Normally I'd think it's unfair for the live action version of a character to be held accountable for what the animated version did, but this leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Like og!Iroh's groping of June being treated like a joke has been called out many times so they fucking had to know what they were doing

Why isn't Azula's fire blue? We got like 1 second of it & that's it. Maybe consistent blue flames are a power up she'll obtain later idk

#atla #zuko #azula #ozai #aang

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clydiepie · 1 year

Note

can I request some hcs of clyde with a reader who loves to draw him? they always doodle him in their sketchbook, in the corner of their notes, etc etc. ty!

Clyde x reader who likes to draw!

Thank you so much to everyone that has sent me requests! I will try to do them as fast as I can! I really liked this one (y'all know I love my Clyde) so I hope you like it! I used she/her pronouns since you didn't specify I hope that's okay!

Clyde Donovan x reader who liked to draw (pre-existing relationship)

She/her pronouns

baby boy clyde<3

fluffy!

cw: none!

Clyde knew you loved to draw

Whenever the two of you were together you normally had your sketchbook in hand

You were always pretty private about what you drew and you never wanted him to see, even though he was so curious

Even in class you constantly doodle on the pages of your notebook not really paying a lot of attention.

Cylde would notice you constantly stealing glances at him during the lecture but he thought it was nothing

At lunch, you sat with Clyde and his friends Craig and Tweek

"Hey babe you seemed a little distracted during class, so I got Kyle to send me a copy of his notes for you." Clyde smiled shoving a forkful of food in his mouth and chewing contently

You blushed remembering what had captured your attention during class

"Oh you didn't have to do that, I appreciate it though" You smile scooting closer to him at the lunch table

Clyde just hummed in contentment as he wrapped a strong arm around your waist

After your last class was done you met Clyde by your locker where he always waited for you

You gathered your things and Clyde wrapped his arm around your shoulder as you both walked toward the front doors

But just before you could reach the door Butters came running around the corner and knocked your books out of your hands making papers fly everywhere.

Butters starts to profusely apologize rambling on about how Cartman needed him quickly for some scheme

You tell him it's no worries as you bend over to collect your things

You look down at the ground to see Clyde has already started to gather the papers that had flown every which way

You see his face turn a dark shade of red as he examines a particular piece of paper. the one you just so happened to be doodling on in class

He looks up at your embarrassed face and asks "Is this me?"

"Ha um yeah.." you explain shyly as you rub the back of your neck

He calmly stands up and folds the paper into a square and sticks it in his pocket

Before you can ask what he was doing he spoke up again

"I'm keeping this, I hope you don't mind." he smiles and hands you all the other paper he gathered

"You don't think it's weird." you laugh

"Not at all, I think it's cute you're obsessed with me." He smirks putting his hands on your waist and drawing you in close

"Don't let this go to your head." you giggle

"Too late." he mumbles before pulling you in for a kiss

I also think after his he would want to look at your art all the time

Like all of it even the stuff not about him or stuff you think is "bad"

He is without a doubt your number 1 fan for sure

I can imagine him standing in a Micheals craft sore for an hour trying to pick out a good gift for you

"Fine tip? what does that even mean?" he would mumble to himself

He also defiantly brags to all his friends about your talent

"Guys Y/N drew this sketch yesterday, isn't she so talented?' he would gush

He is definitely the type to go behind your back and swipe some pieces to put in his locker

In between classes, he liked a little reminder of you to look at (but when you found out he had stolen your art you defiantly let him have it)

One day he was at his locker with the boys and Cartman had dared to make a comment about the goofy sketch you had made for fun taped up in Clyde's locker

"Dude, what is that?" Cartman laughed pointing at the picture

"Y/N drew that for me so shut the fuck me." Clyde barked

On your anniversary Clyde tried his hardest to draw something nice for you, he tried to draw the two of you together on your first date.

"Oh it's so cute...what is it?" you sheepishly laughed

"It's us! can't you tell?" he huffed, his face as red as his coat

"Ohhhh I see it now." you smile at him, taking his hand in yours

After that, he vowed to take an art class next year so maybe one day he could draw you something not so shitty

If any of your art was ever displayed anywhere Clyde would hype you up to no end

"My girlfriend is so talented." he beamed at you with pride looking at a piece you made hung up

"Clyde it's just on your fridge." you laughed

"Hey, that's a place of honor babe."

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

I hope you liked that! I kinda got carried away but I just liked his prompt so much!!! Have a great day!!!

-M<3

#south park x reader #south park x y/n #south park clyde #clyde donovan x reader #clyde donovan

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theresawritesstuff · 5 months

Note

First of all, you are such a talented writer! Love all your work!

My prompt is as follows: Joel and Lenny meet, and Joel slowly realises how much Lenny really means to Midge.

Thank you!

Thank you so much! This was the sweetest message to receive ❤️ Sorry for the delay. Hope it's worth the wait!

It was another packed house.

Ever since she went rogue on the Gordon Ford show Midge had been drawing in crowds all over town. It seemed like every one of her sets, no matter the venue, was a guaranteed sold out show.

The Button Club was no exception.

Two weeks later and Joel still had Mrs. Moskowitz turning folks away at the door so he didn't have the fire marshall breathing down his neck.

He'd had worse problems, that was for sure.

The crowd was eating out of the palm of her hand tonight. It used to bother him but now…

Now he mostly just felt proud.

Mostly…

He looked out over the crowd from his place at the bar, watching the smiling faces watching her with wrapped attention when he noticed a man enjoying the show from the back of the room who'd managed to sneak in late.

He was about to tell him they were at capacity when the man turned for a cigarette and he was able to better to see his face.

Wait. Was that…

Holy shit it was Lenny Bruce! Lenny Bruce was in his club. The Lenny Bruce! At the Button Club! His Button Club!

Holy shit…

Joel poured himself a quick shot at the bar to drown out his nerves before rounding the bar to go talk to him.

Lenny Bruce was in his club!

He cleared his throat. "Mister Bruce? Hi. Joel Maisel. I'm the owner."

Lenny turned to acknowledge him at his elbow, cigarette dangling from his mouth. "Oh hey. Got a light I could bum?"

"''Course! Of course." Joel cleared his throat as he fumbled in his pocket for a lighter. "Thanks for joining us tonight."

"Sure."

"Are you enjoying the show?"

Lenny smiled to himself, taking a drag. "It would be hard not to. Midge is really on her game tonight. Then again, she's always sensational."

"Yeah. Yeah, she is, isn't she?"

Joel nodded along, looking off at the stage with what could surely only be described as a dopey grin.

Lenny Bruce was in his club!

Then it hit him.

"Sorry…You know Midge?" he wondered, confused.

Lenny shrugged. "I did once upon a time. It's been a while. Hope to again if she'll let me…"

"Right…"

Joel's brow furrowed as he puzzled the cryptic reply.

He didn't have long to mull it over however, as Midge made her way across the room, her set finished for the evening.

"I thought that was you I saw lurking," she teased, greeting Lenny with a warm, if somewhat surprised smile. "What are you doing here?"

Lenny chuckled. "Well I heard a rumor some cute uptown chick shanghaied Gordon Ford's air time and has been killing it in every club she goes in ever since. Seemed like something I should check out for myself."

Her smile softened as she raised a brow. "Called me cute, huh?"

The comedian shrugged almost sheepishly, holding her gaze with equal softness.

Joel cleared his throat, interrupting whatever moment was happening between the two performers.

"Well we're certainly glad you could join us," he interjected, feeling the need to remind them he was still there.

He couldn't say why, exactly. It wasn't like she and Lenny were close or anything…

Right?

Midge shook her head, her attention still on Lenny. "It's funny. That set almost didn't happen but…"

Lenny cocked a curious brow as she hesitated, looking at her shoes.

Wait, was she blushing?

"I remembered what you said that night," she confessed.

"That you're more important than God?" Lenny wondered with a smirk.

Midge rolled her eyes fondly. "Not that."

She glanced up at the comedian, then away as she pulled a little slip of paper out from where she had been keeping it tucked within the neckline of her dress. "I,um… I found it in my notebook just before. Took it on set with me for luck. It worked so…"

She shrugged lightly, folding it back over carefully in her hands.

Joel blinked, looking from her to Lenny and back again.

She'd been keeping it, whatever it was, with her for every performance since the Gordon Ford Show.

Not just with her, but in her dress!

Because of something Lenny had said to her.

Because it was from a time, a night, that they'd shared…

"Glad to see you found your spotlight," Lenny murmured.

Joel felt his hands grow clammy, his throat go tight.

He knew from the talk around the club scene that Lenny hadn't been in New York for quite a while.

How long had this been going on?

"Can I buy you a drink? Catch up?" Lenny asked her, sounding tentative but hopeful.

So hopeful.

Just what exactly was there to catch up on?

"I'm actually kind of hungry," Midge admitted. "You wanna get out of here? Get some sensationally mediocre Chinese food?"

Lenny smiled. "I know just the place. You remember our deal?"

"Yes. I'm buying," Midge laughed, turning to Joel expectantly, suddenly remembering he was there. "Think I can get my payment now instead of later? Sounds like I've got a date."

"Y-yeah. Sure…" Joel stammered, glancing between the pair.

"Great! I'll just grab my coat and we can go," Midge promised, touching Lenny's arm.

Joel watched her walk off towards the back room, looking back at Lenny utterly baffled.

Lenny shrugged, patting his shoulder as he moved to wait by the door.

"Thanks for the light. Nice place you got here."

"Y-yeah…S'cuse me."

Joel took off to follow Midge into the back, shaking his head.

He watched her a moment from the office doorway as she put on her coat.

"So. You and Lenny…"

She shrugged in reply, but her smile said it all.

Fuck…

"Were you ever planning to tell me?" he wondered.

"Nope." She picked up the envelope with her money inside from his desk, strolling out of the office. "Have a nice night, Joel. See you Wednesday with the kids."

"Later Midge," Archie greeted, popping into the office for more bar napkins. "Great set tonight."

Archie turned to him. "Hey did you see the guy who looked just like Lenny Bruce?"

He heaved out a sigh.

Midge was fucking in love with Lenny Bruce...

"I'll be at the bar."

#midge x lenny #tmmm fic #Prompt fill #People are very nice and I am very slow #midgelenny

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skiirtip · 1 month

Text

thank you very much one person who likes my random post LMAOO

another drabble, sun-focused, introducing some new lore/plot

tw sun is violent, and he's accidentally in a cult, and hes very much manipulated

not beta read i. no no wanna

cut just in case

~~~

“What are you doing?”

The voice makes you jump in surprise. You slam the drawer closed and shoot up as you straighten your back, eyes widening. You’d been caught red-handed. Sun stands in the doorway, his blue eyes narrowed and his smile thin. His upper lip twitches and it’s silent for a long moment. The heavy robes colored like sunsets drape over his shoulders and down, and when his arm moves you see the fabric sway, nearly dragging along the ground. You don’t get a chance to explain yourself before Sun steps farther into the room, polished black shoes tapping on the stone floor, and the door clicks shut behind him.

“Snooping is very against the rules, friend.” He says, his chipper voice grating on your senses. One of his hands isn’t visible as it rests behind his back. You keep the desk between you as he steps closer. “May I ask what exactly you were looking for? It must be very important if you were willing to risk your future for it.” He hisses, the venom in his voice not trying to be concealed.

“A book,” You say, partially a lie, and a shitty one at that, and you think you momentarily see Sun’s eyebrow twitch up in annoyance. Shit. “I thought maybe you had it.” “A book?” He echoes, incredulous. His face lights up, disarming you momentarily, and as he attempts to round the desk to get closer to you again, you barely skirt past him. His robes brush you and he hums, a displeased glance in your direction as his hand shoots down to unlock a drawer with his moon-shaped necklace. Your heart sinks as he pulls out exactly what you were looking for. “This, I assume? How strange! What would someone Like you need with the receipts of the month?”

Sun opens the notebook with a soft twhip of the paper, deft fingers licked as he turns the page several times. Your eyes narrow into a glare as he shifts his weight to one foot, the glint of the silver dagger strapped to his side a reminder that you are not expendable. Moon needs you for this mission- and he doesn’t know it yet, but Sun needs you too.

“We ordered from overseas, bought and sold a few horses, visited the masonry… ah, here it is,” He says, tapping the page and dragging one of his pale yellow fingers down the page. You can hear the paper rip along the perforated edge. A cheap book they used to hide records from the transcript.

A cheap book to use as a bible.

“An order for war equipment. Canons, bows, firearms… And of course, a special set of armor, just for you. The king really likes you, doesn’t he? You’re his new favorite,” Sun says it with an almost disgusted tone. To be honest, you’re disgusted at the thought of the king attempting to spoil you as well. You feel ice in your belly as his cold blue eyes meet yours. Usually, the freckles that dot across his cheeks and temples but spare his nose are cute- today, they remind you of eyes. He feigns a saddened sigh, looking back at the paper, and easily rips it and folds it in a smooth motion, handing it to you as if he were a teacher disappointed with your grade. You know better than to reach out and take it when you see his fingers twitch with their iron grip.

“He’d be very disappointed to find out you were helping the rebellion,” Sun says, tutting and shaking his head. He draws the paper back and crumples it. You know there was more on that paper than what he oh-so-graciously told you, and you hate that you’ll never know as he tosses it into the fireplace. “But he’d be very much pleased with me if I turned you in-“

“He’s lying to you,” You spit, and you watch Sun’s rays twitch for just a moment in surprise. He grits his teeth. “He’s tricking you. He’s poisoning the kingdom. Haven’t you noticed? New rules, increased guard, separated families- this is getting out of hand.”

Sun frowns deeply, and this time you don’t get a chance to move before he is dragging you closer to the table by the wrist. You feel your wrist pop and hiss as it’s twisted, forcing you against the desk. It is forced backward by the rough movement and Sun lifts his knee to the surface to avoid losing any balance. You are reminded of the glow in his eyes as he stares at you, his lips pulled taut into a saccharine smile.

“Eclipse wants what is best for us,” He says, roughly. His hand shakes with the restraint to not snap your wrist right off. “He is keeping us safe. Under control.”

“You’re blind,” You spit, and Sun’s rays shrink at the venom in your voice, eyes narrowing. You don’t usually stand up to him. “You’re either to far gone, or you’re trying to keep your ignorance for the sake of his approval. But I know you’ve seen it. When’s the last time you’ve seen Cassie? Did you even notice she was gone? Or did you just blame it on ‘the rebellion’ and move on.”

You can’t move that wrist out of his grip, but you can move your other arm. Your moves and he attempts to stop you from grabbing for his dagger- but you don’t even reach for it, clasping your hand around the moon pendant that dangles from his neck and seizing it, ripping it off. Round beads, gray and blue, clatter to the ground and shatter. Sun’s eyes widen and for just a moment, he looks genuinely distressed. You wrench your hand out of his loosened grip and snap the crescent in half between your palms. Sun lets out a strangled sound, still half across the table, eyes flashing completely white.

For only a moment, things are silent and peaceful. And then Sun is launching himself over the desk to snatch the broken halves from you, shoving you away without a second thought and anxiously smoothing his thumb over the broken pieces, glancing around for glue or tape or something- anything- that will hold the memories of his brother back.

“Sun,” Your voice lowers as he holds the pieces broken edged together, spinning around the room, searching and searching. It’s sad to watch. You raise your voice when you say his name again, watching as he knocks a lamp off of the desk and the room is devoid of light except for the orange glow of the fireplace. The yellow edges of his faceplate are visible as his head snaps to you, eyes pale in the darkness. You can only barely see where his body peeks out of the robe- head, neck, wrists, and hands. The rest of him is blacked out.

“What’s going on?” He whispers, conspiratorially. His voice is shaking. You can hear the tick, tick, tick of his rays as they shrink in and out of his head. “Eclipse said that when the necklace broke-“ “That all the memories of Moon hurting you would come back?” You ask. You almost feel sorry for him. You take a step back towards the door. The sound of his rays stop. “I just told you, he’s lying to you. Those bad memories of him aren’t real. He used Cassie to put the dreams of him in your head, and then banished her so she couldn’t tell you. Sun, you have to calm down-“

“No,” He hisses, roughly. He separates the blue pieces of the crescent in his hand and taps them back together several insistent times, his movements frantic. “No, no, no, no, no. He wouldn’t lie. Not to me. Moon is dead. He tried to kill me, and Eclipse-“ He looks back up at you. His eyes are black with small white rings in them. “Eclipse is protecting me. Protecting me from people like you.”

He shouts as he lunges. The door flies open and knocks you forward, into his chest, and there’s the sound of a dagger clattering away and a sword being drawn. You feel the soft fur on your ankles before you can push yourself up and away.

The silver edge of a sword captures Sun’s head and tilts it up. Sun’s face is deadpan. You can hear his internal systems shutting down. Moon’s cloak falls and he kneels, pushing you off of Sun, gently scooping the unconscious advisor into his arms. He stares at the crumpled heap in his arms for a moment before looking back up at you. “Go. Go make a distraction. I’ll take him back to base through the left garden.”

“Got it.” You turn automatically to dash away, only glancing back once just in time to see Moon scoop a few of the unbroken necklace beads from the floor and put them in his pocket with the broken pendant. You look forward again and run straight for the throne room as Moon throws the end of the rug into the fireplace.

You throw the doors open and the court stops as the force of the giant mahogany doors caused an armor stand to fall over. You point back just in time to see the room go up in flames.

“Fire!”

~~~~

ends like that because i plan to have fire maybe be a chapter name thats misleading, like the others are all war themed and then suddenly its like "they're (rebellion) getting somewhere and aren't being crushed by Eclipse..."

#fnaf dca #fnaf x reader #eclipse x reader #moon x reader #sun x reader #dca fandom #dca au #fnaf au #i like writing for sun this is like my third time #for this au at least #he's mean right here its kinda sloppily written beacause. no planning #but i swear he's a little menace

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lizzie-is-here · 2 years

Text

like the dawn

part vii- the apartment

“where does memory end and love begin? all i know is- she loved him before she remembered him.” - ritika jyala

summary: you and bucky are on the run when the un gets bombed and pinned on him, but a certain idiot with a shield is determined to save you.

wordcount: 5.1k

warnings: violence, cussing, brainwashing, brief disassociation, memory loss, mentions of torture, civil war fix it fic time, me being too distracted by how hot sebastian stan is to focus on grammar

taglist: @whelvedfeelingsstuff @sebsgirl71479 @rebloggingmyrecs @babyblublossom @local-mr-frog @thenyxsky @capsiclesdoll

a/n: yall this is mostly setup but it took so long so i’m sorry, 🥺. college has been wild so far istg but my math professor is gay and ranted about marshmallows for ten minutes so we stan him. anyway hope u enjoy love u lots 🤍🤍 go slay

previous part | series masterlist | next part

Being the most wanted people in the world while also not knowing who you were was no picnic.

After leaving Steve Rogers, healed but still hurting, on the banks of the Potomac, you and Bucky ran. After being forced to split up for a week while he snuck on planes and you cleared hundreds of miles by air, you reunited in London.

“This is… horrible,” you grumble, perched atop a roof as Winter, no, Bucky climbs up to join you. He nods before holding up a battered notebook.

“Next on the to-do list, we raid the base in Siberia.” You shiver, brief flashes of your time there surfacing. It was so strange relearning yourself. Your time as HYDRA’s scythe felt like a dream, like you’d really been sleeping the whole time.

Fighting away their brainwashing felt like fighting off fatigue—a losing battle.

“I know it’s not going to be fun, but there’s keys to our past there. We both remember that.” You know he’s right. And when neither of you remember much, you have to play the cards you were sure on.

Your wings flutter, tired and strained. Memories flicker in and out.

“(Y/N)?”

Who?

A hand touches your cheek and you jolt, eyes widening. The man in front of you stays steady.

“Hey, hey it’s me. It’s me, Bird.”

Bucky. Your brain catches up and a searing pain shoots through your head. He catches you as you curl in on yourself, making sure you stay quiet so as to not draw attention to the roof you’re camping on.

“Hey, hey doll, I lost you there for a second,” he murmurs. You take deep breaths, chuckling shakily.

The nickname tugs a buried memory to the surface. Countless girls he’d take on dates, the pet name eventually falling so casually from his lips when addressing you, his little habit rubbing off on Steve.

“Haven’t heard that in a while,” you quip, relaxing as the pain subsides.

He snorts. “What can I say? I’m old-fashioned.”

“Oh, shush.” You shove him, laughing freely. You’ll take every moment you can get. “Well, if we’ve got another journey ahead of us, we best get going.”

Bucky grabs his stolen backpack full of your and his notebooks, hoisting it effortlessly as he stands next to you. “Wouldn’t you rather get a car? You have to be tired from flying.” He’s right, you are. But you aren’t used to being given a choice.

He notices your hesitation. “(Y/N), you’re allowed to rest.”

You give in. “Yeah, a car would be nice.” You’ve both been reminding each other to not push your limits too far, but HYDRA’s training would be hard to break. One step at a time. “If I’m honest, if I fly much further, I think my wings will fall off.”

You both jump down from the roof, sneaking through the dimly-lit streets until you find an inconspicuous car. Bucky goes to hotwire it as you keep a watchful eye on your surroundings. He taps the hood to get your attention.

“Can you get me some light here?” Nodding, you lift a hand. You feel the energy move through your veins, tracing along them until a ball of warm light forms above your fingers. You carefully lower it to where he points, illuminating the mechanics.

“I’m glad this is of some use,” you mumble, effortlessly manipulating the light that doesn’t seem to quite obey physics. You’re still not sure whether to be amazed or repulsed by it.

Bucky, on the other hand, has his mind made up. Maybe it’s some sort of instinct or habit ingrained, but your powers offer a familiarity. A constant source of literal and metaphorical light over the past decades.

But he knows he’ll just sound like a hypocrite if he says anything (He hasn’t been particularly kind to himself or his metal prosthetic), so he finishes hotwiring the beat-up vehicle and opens your door for you.

New cars are so strange. They're sleek, streamlined. Some of them, “sports cars”, look even stranger. They have screens and buttons and heated seats, plus the seats are much better than what they were.

You climb into the backseat, lowering the passenger seat all the way, and feebly attempt to make yourself comfortable. There’s some awkward adjusting before you finally settle, but once you’re clear of the city, both of you relax.

It takes a few days of risky gas station stops and sleeping in the car before you decide to leg it, abandoning the car in favor of walking the last miles. The journey comes easily, and by the time you arrive at the base, you’re ready for whatever waits inside.

Or so you think. The door is closed, and a pin pad taunts you. But as if on autopilot, you punch in the code you don’t remember. It’s right. The door swings open.

Bucky tugs a gun from his jacket and you ready your powers.

“You ready?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he lies. “You?”

“Yeah.” You do the same. The halls are suspiciously quiet. There aren’t any wandering guards like you remember. No screams from other soldiers or bustling doctors.

It’s abandoned.

Pointing down a hallway, you and Bucky sneak around, unwilling to take risks. Especially when you’re already risking so much by coming back here for a few items. You finally make it to a storage room, and your eyes land on two boxes immediately.

They’re labeled as Sgt. James Barnes and Agent (Y/N) (L/N), to your pleasant surprise. Hurriedly snatching them up, you’re gone as quickly as you came, racing back to the car. You don’t dare view the contents. Not yet, at least.

It’s an hour later, driving along a snowy road, when you finally speak up.

“Where do we go?” You don’t even want to ask. You know what has to happen. Laying low, jumping from place to place every time you’re found out. You aren’t sure if you can live on the run, not to mention that you won’t be able to fly often, seeing how surveilled most cities are now.

“There’s a safe house in Romania,” Bucky says. ”Bucharest. It’s a good hiding spot. Plus, we could sneak you out every now and then for a fly.” You nod, watching the trees grow more and more crowded.

Even if it takes time, you know you’ll have to accept that you’re very lucky. And even if you’ll be stuck in some dingy apartment for the foreseeable future, it’ll give you time to piece your memory together.

Your history and all of your memories, contained in some cheap, leather-bound journals.

———————————————————————

That was almost a year ago. You and Bucky had set up a nice life in Bucharest.

You had a one-room apartment with a mattress, a couch, and some pots and pans. You’d even managed to get some houseplants that were thriving on the windowsill. You suspect your powers keep them healthy.

It wasn’t much. Most would look at it and scoff. But it’s undeniably and entirely yours. And that’s what matters.

You’ve spent a lot of time holed up. Your wings are too big for you to go out in the day, so you spend your time relearning old skills and putting together the pieces of your story.

In the boxes you brought back was your longbow, both of your dog tags, your original uniforms, and some pictures, plus one of your journals that you had brought along when you went awol. The items helped with your memories, providing tangible evidence of your past. You both always wear the dog tags.

Your life before HYDRA was still hazy. You remembered Steve and Bucky, their parents, your parents. Some of your time in school, though it was rather boring.

You remembered Steve constantly getting into fights and you and Bucky always saving his ass from men twice his size.

But mostly, you remember HYDRA. Years of training are stuck in your head. You know your way around every gun you can think of, you’re more proficient with a knife than a pen. Firing a bow is like breathing.

You speak over twenty languages. You can play instruments you never learned. And for some strange reason, you know how to make a mean caramel frappuccino.

After relearning how to properly clean your wings, something HYDRA did a rather shitty job of, you discovered they weren’t just black. Hints of other colors shone through in the light.

Purples, blues, greens, even some deep red. Something beautiful that had been kept from you.

True to his word, Bucky sneaks you out once every two weeks to a secluded area with no cameras, and watches you fly. He finds it absolutely amazing, even if he can’t put the words together to tell you.

What HYDRA did to him left him scarred. A gaudy prosthetic that was fused to his bones, constant radiating pain and scar tissue where metal met muscle.

But you, you were golden.

Even if you despised your enhancements some days, Bucky was in awe of them.

The way you healed his cuts when he tried cooking, how the lights would brighten and flicker when you laughed, the fact that you trusted him to carefully preen your wings when HYDRA had only treated them with carelessness.

Even if he knew what he was feeling, he shoved it down. That word wasn’t even in the question when you were in the situation you were in.

So he stays silent. He sits patiently on the couch as he waits for you to wake up. Today is grocery day. And even if you won’t get to go to the market, he doesn’t want you to wake up alone. That never ends well for either of you.

“Bird?” he asks. You used to be able to sleep through even the worst thunderstorms. The slightest of sounds wake you up now. You shuffle, yawning and lazily sitting up.

“Hey,” you mumble. The mattress creaks and groans as you stand up, peeking at the windows covered in newspaper. “You’re heading out?”

He nods. He tugs on a jacket and a baseball cap before holding his arms out. You hug him like you do every time he goes out; like it’s the last time you’ll see him.

Bucky promises to be back soon and hurries from the building before your neighbor, a nosy old woman, gets up to check her mail. Left to your own devices, you start getting ready.

A few feathers are a bit unruly, so you take a moment to preen them, carefully rearranging them and swiping away dust. There are a few you can’t reach, but you’ll ask Bucky to get them later.

You tug on some clothes that you’ve modified to work around your wings and brush your teeth. Just as you rinse the brush and go to fold your blanket, you hear a noise outside the door.

It doesn’t sound like Bucky. Silently grabbing a tactical knife hidden in the couch, you hide behind the door. Some clicking. The lock being picked.

The door swings open. Staying hidden, you watch a man beeline for one of Bucky’s journals atop the fridge. He flips through it. You don’t notice the shield at his side, too focused on, one: how this man got into your home, and two: how to get him out.

Taking the opportunity, you strike, slamming him against the wall and pushing the knife up against his throat.

It’s only when you meet his eyes that you recognize him. Still, you don’t quite let up.

“What are you doing here?” you demand. “How did you find me?”

Steve holds up his hands, slowly removing his shield and setting it on the ground. “Do you know who I am?”

Of course you know. How couldn’t you?

“Answer my question, Steve,” you spit. Both of you know that you won’t hurt him. But he’s still in your safe house, going through your shit.

“Bucky’s in danger.” That’s all he has to say before you release him.

“What?” Tucking the knife in your pocket, you begin to rummage around the room. You throw on some shoes and gather up the journals before stuffing them into an empty backpack and slinging both it and your bow over your shoulders. Meanwhile, Steve explains the situation.

The Accords, how he refused to sign. Peggy’s recent death. You had no idea she was still alive. Though you feel slightly guilty about not visiting, you aren’t sure she would have wanted to see you anyway. Not after you had participated in corrupting her organization.

Steve goes on to tell you about the bombing at a UN meeting, and how surveillance cameras caught the Winter Soldier leaving the scene.

“He didn’t do it,” you promise. The blond nods.

“Ok, but-”

“What are you doing here?” Bucky. He stands in the doorway, hands empty of groceries. When Steve fails to respond, he turns to you. “They think I bombed the UN, I don’t know what’s going on, but we need to get out of here.”

Steve shakes his head. “You won’t make it, they’ve surrounded the building.”

“I wasn’t in Vienna,” Bucky says. “I don’t do that anymore.”

“Well, the people who think you did are coming here now. And they’re not planning on taking you alive. Either of you.”

You nod. “That’s smart. Good strategy.” Your heart is racing. No matter how good you were, you wouldn’t be able to sneak out of this. Footsteps echo above you.

“Buck, (Y/N), this doesn’t have to end in a fight.” Always the optimist. It’s easy for him to say. He’s been a diplomat, a leader. You’ve been shadows and assassins.

Bucky voices what you’re thinking. “It always ends in a fight.”

“You pulled me from the river and healed me.” Steve’s getting impatient. “Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.”

Flash bombs fly through the windows. You deflect one with a blast of light, while another bounces off of Steve’s shield. You hear soldiers attempting to batter down the door while Bucky grabs the mattress and uses it to shield you both from a rain of bullets.

You fling a metal table towards the door to stall, but more soldiers break in the windows. It’s a blur as gunfire and yelling fill the small room. A punch here, a dodge there. Bucky kicks a man off the balcony before Steve stops him.

“Buck, stop!” he shouts. “You’re gonna kill someone.”

The brunet flips him, punching a hole into the floor where you stashed away the other backpack. “I’m not gonna kill anyone.” Passing it to you, he nods out the broken windows. “Идти. Придерживайтесь плана [Go. Stick to the plan].”

You leap, trusting that your wings will carry you even if you haven’t flown in a while. They ache as you stretch, but you soar to the roof of the next building nonetheless.

Bucky comes flying out from the apartment building moments later, and you pass off the backpack as you begin to run. When you glance at the ground, however, you spot a shadow.

You blast the attacker back before they even land, only to spot a man in what looked like a black… cat costume? Bucky raced to attack him, exchanging blows before he was kicked backward into an electrical box.

Alright, this guy was an issue. The bigger issue was the helicopter firing round after round at you. The man who had helped Steve, the Falcon, takes it out with little trouble, allowing you and Bucky to leap down.

You fly but stay close enough to help, grabbing his hand and diving down into a tunnel to avoid more gunfire. Cars swerve around you.

Once more you run in tandem, with you using your wings to boost your already-enhanced speed. The cat man follows, as does Steve.

Sirens wail through the tunnel while Bucky leaps over cars, never slowing down.

“Motorcycle,” you warn him. In one motion, he grabs the bike while you safely land the driver, before hopping on and speeding off. Now that he’s more mobile, you take to the air again, maneuvering expertly in the tight space.

You stay a bit behind, blasting at police cars that get too close. The light does little but distract them, slowing them down enough to put space in between you. You swerve to the side just as the cat man jumps at you, and he and Bucky begin to fight while speeding at 40 mph.

“Take the roof out!” he yells once he kicks him away. The moment he's out, you do just that, tossing an explosive onto a weak spot on the concrete. It crumbles, but the man in the cat suit is tossed forward and slashes the back tire of the motorcycle.

You’re ready to fire off a blast of light that won’t be so harmless, but he’s tackled away by Steve. You help Bucky up as police cars surround you. No exits. They’ve got the skies covered too.

A man in a silver suit descends from above. You spot heavy artillery.

“Stand down, now,” he demands. Shit.

Bucky reaches an arm out in front of you while Steve does the same for him, as if you’re back saving the latter from some bully and not definitely getting put in prison for countless felonies.

“Congratulations, Cap,” the man says. “You’re a criminal.”

The soldiers grab Bucky first, harshly pushing him onto the ground. You’re about to protest when they do the same to you, grabbing at your wings to keep you from flying off. You wince but sink to the ground anyway.

So much for a safe house.

———————————————————————

You were shoved in a glass cage, which was then shoved in an armored vehicle. Never mind the sturdy metal cuffs clamped on your wrists, ankles, and shoulders.

When they rolled you out, it was in a different building. You see a similar cage and a familiar mess of unwashed brown hair in front of you, plus a dejected-looking blond Captain to your left, and groan inwardly.

You get placed into the same room as Bucky, to your surprise. They don’t tell you what’s going on or what will happen.

After maybe five minutes, a small man walks in. He has a briefcase that seems stuffed full, but he only pulls out a few files. Psychological evaluation.

He turns to Bucky first, then you. “Your first name is James? And (Y/N)?” No response. “I’m not here to judge you. I just want to ask you a few questions. Do you know where you are, James?”

Seeing as he’s the one being accused, they’re more interested in him. And his lack of responses. “I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, James.”

“My name is Bucky.”

A sliver of a smile makes its way onto your face, even if you know the cameras caught it.

“Tell me, Bucky. You’ve seen a great deal, haven’t you?”

He only deadpans. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

You frown, but not because of his words. The doctor’s questions… he’s purposely testing you both.

“You fear that if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop. Don’t worry. We only have to talk about one.” In an instant, the lights go out.

You speak up. “What the hell is this?”

“Why don’t we discuss your home?” he says to both of you. “Not Romania. Certainly not Brooklyn, no.” Reaching into his bag, he retrieves a book you hoped was long burned.

“I mean your real home.”

It’s like watching a nightmare unfold. Because for all of the horrible things you saw in HYDRA, you never had to watch this. The trigger words.

“Желание [Longing].”

Bucky’s voice is shaking as you try to break out of the cuffs.

“No.”

“Ржавый [Rusted].”

“Shut up!” you yell, hands glowing as you try to overheat the mechanism locking you in place. But all you do is nearly burn yourself. Even if you can withstand the heat of your own powers, glowing metal isn’t in the question. Instead, you try to fire a beam at the glass. A tiny crack forms.

“Семнадцать [Seventeen].” You hear a whir. His metal arm. He’s just as desperate as you are.

“Stop,” he pleads. You shoot blast after blast, trying to shut it out once Bucky starts screaming in pure frustration and fear.

“Рассвет [Daybreak],” the doctor spits, rolling the word on his tongue. The words are clearly practiced, not known.

The metal cuffs finally snap under Bucky’s strength and he immediately begins punching the glass. The doctor never stops. “Печь [Furnace].”

Your attempts at escape are pointless. This cage is too well-designed and your strength is draining with every trigger word said. Partially because you have to watch Bucky succumb to the Winter Soldier, but also because you know it’ll be your turn next.

When the door flies from the cage next to you, and the man stands up, you recognize the Soldier instantly. “Солдат [Soldier]?”

“Я готов отвечать [Ready to comply].” The doctor nods in satisfaction and flips to a new page. He shines his flashlight towards you, frowning as it flickers wildly.

“Свет [Light],” he begins. Something inside of you awakens.

Each trigger word was chosen specifically and through testing, It took months to find just the right combination of words that destroyed your mind.

“Небо [Sky], прирост [growth], начало [dawn], восемнадцать [eighteen].” You scream as you feel your consciousness slipping. Your memory grows fuzzier with each second. The worst part may be watching the Winter Soldier’s face twist in concern. Even in this state, he knows you.

“Душа [Soul], девять [nine], испытующий [searching], один [one]...”

It hurts so badly to hold on and fight the brainwashing. And as much as you don’t want to give in, this was never a fair fight. With the last word, you let go.

“Ущелье [Ravine].”

The first thing you do is assess the area. Wherever it is you’ve been brought seems high-risk. Cameras are down, and you’re stuck in a cage.

Charging up a powerful blast with no regard to the discomfort it brings you, you burst through the cuffs restraining you and the ballistic glass. The shards cover the ground, reflecting the red lights that flash intermittently.

The man in front of you grins, tucking a book under his arm.

“Mission report. December 16, 1991.”

———————————————————————

Steve’s stomach only sinks as he passes the bodies piled in the hall. When he finally gets to the containment room, he spots two empty cages and the “doctor” on the floor.

He wrestles him to his feet, demanding answers with none of his usual diplomacy.

“Who are you? What do you want?”

The man chuckles. “To see an empire fall.”

Sam’s just entering the room when the Winter Soldier strikes, knocking out a chunk of concrete from the wall. You emerge from the shadows, grabbing the man and flinging him at the cages.

The Captain goes for the Soldier first, swinging in wide arcs. When he manages to knock him over, you step in, your hand straining as you charge up a ball of energy. The blond holds a hand out as if to calm you, but you ignore it.

You fire smaller rays all while feeling the one in your left hand grow more erratic. When he’s backed up against an elevator, you strike.

A powerful blast sends the Captain blasting through the elevator door and down the shaft. Satisfied, you go back for your partner.

You and the Winter Soldier eventually make it to a dining area of the building. Some guards swarm in, but without your memory, any qualms you had about hurting people are long gone. You don’t care who lives or dies so long as you escape.

A deafening sound rings through the air and you both wince, turning to see the source when a man flashes a disorienting light. Two could play that game. You return the favor as the Soldier grabs his gun, barely missing and being quickly disarmed. He kicks him back with little effort, and the smaller man flies into a chair.

A blonde woman rushes up next, followed by a redhead. She seems familiar, but you can’t remember where from. Either way, they’re both taken out with little effort.

And then a new man appears. He moves in a way that tells you he isn’t quite human, and when he leaps a railing to catch up to you and the Soldier, your suspicions are confirmed. They’re tumbling down the stairs before either one wins, but the Winter Soldier is gone just as quickly as you are.

Flying around walkways and crashing through glass, you reach the helipad in seconds flat. After climbing in and starting it, the Soldier emerges from another door, joining you and taking the pilot’s seat.

You don’t get ten feet off the ground before something tugs the helicopter down. The Captain, somehow relatively undamaged from his fall earlier. The Soldier presses the controls, fighting the enhanced strength of the annoyingly stubborn man.

But the blond manages to still the helicopter anyway. You and the brunet exchange a silent conversation, and you grab onto a handle just as he dives the helicopter towards the man. The whole thing crashes sideways, but the Captain still rises.

Fine. Just as he leans to peek inside, the Winter Soldier punches through the glass and locks his hand around his throat. However, due to the sudden movement, the helicopter tips backwards.

You try to grab the Soldier, but you’re thrown back and hit your head as the helicopter hits the water. Disoriented and with your wings suddenly soaked, you struggle to find your way out. The Soldier gets pulled away from you as you reach for him, and before you can react a hand reaches out to you.

As your vision goes dark, you take it.

———————————————————————

When you come to, you go into high alert. The last thing you remember, the doctor had begun reciting your trigger words, and now… Where were you?

Scanning the room, you come to the conclusion that it was a mechanic’s garage, long abandoned with some old equipment left behind. To your left, Bucky is still passed out. You aren’t surprised that you were awake first; your powers keep you from staying down for longer than an hour.

You have handcuffs on, while his metal arm is stuck between a large piece of machinery, tightly clamped. While the room you both are in is empty, you know you aren’t alone. There aren’t any cameras, yet you can tell that you’re being watched.

But when you try to stretch your wings, you’re met with a painful resistance. You’d felt the discomfort, but you assumed that it was just from the cramped cage. This is different, though. Your wings are tied.

Grunting from the pain and rope digging into the limbs, you try to relax as you take calming breaths. The rope chafes against the skin, scratching it even at the slightest of touches.

“Do you know who you are?”

You look up. Steve. And the Falcon. The latter asked the question, arms crossed over his chest as he lingers further back than the former.

“I’m (Y/N) (L/N),” you say. He and Steve exchange a glance, then he gestures for you to prove it. “I used to share an apartment with you two.” You nod to Bucky. “I had a tin of tea stashed behind your medicine, and our spare key was always under a random rock on the porch,” you chuckle. “Don’ know how no one ever broke in.”

Steve smiles. “Good to see you again, (Y/N).” You offer a weak smile, hissing in pain when you move wrong and the rope drags a bit too hard. He rushes forward immediately, kneeling next to you and untying the rope.

“Are you okay?” You nod as he drops the rope away. Your wings unfurl, healing the small scratches as you relax. As he removes the cuffs, the Falcon frowns.

“Look, not to seem rude, but we’re supposed to just trust you now? You just broke out of a government building with no reservations about dropping bodies,” he says. So that’s what happened. Standing, you ignore the creeping guilt and extend a hand to him.

“I’m not asking you to trust me,” you say. “I don’t really trust me. But I want to fix the damage I did. And if Steve trusts you to help do that, I trust you.” His gaze softens, and he reluctantly shakes your hand.

“Guess all you old people are good with speeches, huh?” You lightly laugh. He nods. “I’m Sam.”

“(Y/N).”

Steve glances at Bucky. “Could you wake him up? I think he’ll react better if it’s you.”

Holding up a hand and letting power dance on your fingertips, you nod. “I can do better than that.” You touch his forehead, focusing on mending the wound still dripping blood from his temple. He has bruises that you heal with a single thought, and the other two can’t help but gape.

“That’s something,” Sam says, watching the brunet slowly blink awake. He groans weakly as you help him sit up, gently running a hand over his back.

“Steve,” he mumbles.

The blond, as much as he wants to trust him as well, knows he has to take precautions. “Which Bucky am I talking to?”

Similar to you, he begins listing off memories the two of you pieced together in your small Bucharest apartment. “Your mom’s name was Sarah. You used to wear newspapers in your shoes.”

“Can’t read that in a museum,” Steve says. Sam shrugs, still finding it hard to believe how easily the Captain is trusting. He supposes your history together is affecting him.

Bucky sighs. “What did we do?”

“Enough.”

“We knew this would happen,” you mutter. “Everything HYDRA put inside us is still there. All that doctor had to do was say the fucking words.”

“Who was he?” Steve asks. When neither of you come up with a name, he applies some pressure. “People are dead. The bombing, the setup, the doctor did all that just to get ten minutes with you. I need you to do better than ‘I don’t know’.”

Bucky thinks for a moment. “He wanted to know about Siberia. Where we were… kept.”

He explains the other super soldiers, how skilled and organized they were. Even if you and him were HYDRA’s scythe and fist, they were their bullets. You performed assassinations. Sent messages. They took down HYDRA’s enemies for pure power.

After he finishes, you begin to free his metal arm while Sam and Steve discuss. You notice him zoning out before tapping his arm.

“Hey. We’ll fix this,” you promise.

“I don’t know if we can,” Bucky whispers.

It’s hard to argue with that. What you’ve done, the blood on your hands, it’s not the kind you atone for. “Then we make amends. All that matters is we’re together now, right?”

He nods. “Right. Now, instead of running from the government, we get to see if Steve will forgive us for 70 years of war crimes,” he snarks.

You roll your eyes. 70 years of torture and experimentation, and he was already back to sassing your best friend.

“It’s Steve. He was committing crimes long before we were.”

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