#maybe he and winter will talk next time we see em

[hyperfixation-hideout]

You reblogged something once about how sometimes rwby quotes feel out of nowhere or make not a lot of sense for the character or situation. i wondered if you have a least favorite quote for any of the characters, not to like dunk on the writing or anything just like how you said sometimes they're mildly baffling. do you have a least favorite weiss quote? i feel like most of hers are good

That's a good question, thanks for the ask! Well, the dialogue exchange I'd had in mind when reblogging that (I think? It was a long time ago lol) was the end of v6

Ruby: Is it weird that I'm a little nervous?

Yang: No, I'll believe we've made it to Atlas when I see it.

Weiss: Well, believe it.

It just felt... off? Ruby asked about nervousness, not whether they'd actually get there. It feels like Yang's line was just meant to set up Weiss' rather than respond to Ruby's. (Also idk how much time passed on that airship but wow did they get to Atlas fast)

But that's a pretty inconsequential example :P If you're asking for a least favorite Weiss quote... I've got one, and oof, it's a doozy, I'm so sorry XD I can't just share the quote and leave it without explanation, cause it's all about the context, so this may get long. It's not just confusing for the timing or phrasing, but contrary to the situation, and actively (in my opinion) detracts from Weiss' character.

Now, to preface because I know how easy it is to see the beginning of something and assume the rest (especially if the topic is similar to one you've heard ad nauseam & ad hominem): this is not about whether Ruby should've lied to Ironwood. I'm neither debating that morally nor narratively (actually, I liked the initial decision to have Ruby do that; it was an interesting character moment!). This is about this specific line in this scene with these characters and how it impacts the larger message and themes in play. I love Weiss, she's one of my faves, but this particular writing choice irks me.

Ok, with that out of the way, here's my least favorite Weiss quote:

"Everyone thinks what they're doing is right. But usually, they're just looking out for themselves. And their secrets."

This was said to Winter in a scene alone together in v7ch5. She's drawing a clear line between their discovery of Ozpin's secrets and their worry about Ironwood. Which is good! The volume had been establishing the Oz parallel really well: ch 2 when Ruby lies (and Oscar's leitmotif plays during both her lies/half-truths) and glances to Oscar the exact moment he looks away from her in disappointment, and she looks hurt; ch 3 when Yang expresses discomfort with the choice but begrudgingly goes along, asking how Oscar feels about it, and we flash back to Oscar confronting Ruby by saying "doesn't that feel like what Ozpin did to us?" and Ruby looking guilty (as Oscar's motif plays over her once again); ch 4 where Ruby confesses to Qrow she can't tell if what's best is what's right, or if she's no different from Oz (I'm ignoring Qrow's response for now or this'll be way longer lol); ch 5 with this line to Winter.

The issue I have with this line isn't the first sentence, because it's by and large accurate: most people do generally think they're doing what's right. And oftentimes they're actually hiding things to do so. For example: YOU RIGHT NOW, WEISS.

Again, this isn't about whether or not I think the lies were justified. It's about how this line makes her seem like -- and I hate to say it, but it's the most accurate word -- a hypocrite. It'd be one thing if the show addressed this and had her realize that, but it never does. It doubles down in the later scene with the Winter Maiden. Winter says that Ironwood isn't keeping secrets, not from her. Weiss replies, "Can you be sure?" To demonstrate how crucial she is to Ironwood's plan and how much he trusts her, Winter entrusts Weiss with this huge secret: that she's planned to be the next Maiden. But rather than having Weiss reflect on how honest her sister is being with her while she continues to hide the very secrets they resented Ozpin for, she smiles and says they've both carved their own path :)

Eddy in the commentary for v7 said they were going to have Weiss tell Winter the truth there (I'd have to double check for the exact wording), but that "it worked better as Winter telling secrets while Weiss kept them from her." I have to disagree. It would have worked if the narrative addressed it, like if Weiss felt bad about it, or afterwards went to talk to Ruby about it. Maybe asking if she can at least tell Winter, to have Ruby respond that Winter would just tell Ironwood, and they couldn't risk that yet. Then later (and they can still do this in v9), have Ruby feel guilty when Penny gets the powers, knowing her choice to accept them was based on incomplete information, regardless of whether or not the complete info would have changed her decision. That choice is what made Cinder target her. That power is why she died. Just like Pyrrha.

I know Pyrrha had less information about Salem than Winter did at that point (correct me if I'm wrong, it's been awhile since I've watched v3), but in essence, important truths about the dangers of being a Maiden & fighting Salem were kept from them both. After Pyrrha's death and the Fall of Beacon, I'd expect the team to want to prevent anyone else from taking on that burden without knowing the price and full risks. But Weiss didn't bat an eye when told her sister was in the same position. We don't know for certain whether Weiss told her team about the plan offscreen, or what we're supposed to assume, but because it was never brought up and never reflected on, it comes across as Weiss bitterly (I say bitterly bc of the line delivery) insulting Oz and insinuating Ironwood is likely lying to Winter and may not be trustworthy, while she herself continues to remorselessly lie to her.

In one line, it shows her opinion of Oz hasn't changed, her self-justification for lying as an exception to the rule because they're actually "doing what's right" -- the irony of that line would've been so cool to explore -- her disdain of others' secrecy, and her complete lack of self-awareness that she's making accusations of things she herself is doing without a trace of regret or doubt.

It's just a frustrating line to me, because it takes a really interesting morally grey setup for the protagonists, makes it an even darker grey, and instead of challenging it, frames it as a cute sister bonding moment. All while simultaneously showing that despite making essentially the same decisions, the team (or at least Weiss, Qrow, Ruby, and Yang based on her line in the v6 finale) is still blaming and/or resenting Oz rather than reconsidering the difficult position he was in now that they're in it and following suit. Which, tbh, is where I thought that plotline was headed, but that's another conversation :P

If they'd followed it up and had the hypocrisy impact her view or lead to character growth, thus highlighting the complexity of these decisions and setting up the team's understanding of Oz (instead of a flimsy "trust is a risk"), it might have wound up as one of my favorite lines of v7. There was so much potential there, and the choice to ignore it as confirmed in the commentary is one that will forever flabbergast me.

Ok, all done! Sorry if this was too ranty, anon -- I uh. I get kinda carried away in analysis and sometimes come off as more emotional or upset than I am 😅 I just wanted to express my dislike for this line thoroughly to avoid confusion (and hopefully prevent people getting heated in the replies, especially since those often showcase they didn't actually read the whole post and/or took it in bad faith). I'm not bashing or saying you can't like this line or plot point! RWBY is a piece of media I enjoy watching, so when something like this happens that I feel is inauthentic to a character or message, I care about it strongly.

#rwby crit #crtq #rwde #<- there now you can blacklist if you don't wanna see these :) #weiss schnee critical #I suppose #more about the writing of that arc than weiss overall but y'know she's a character written by people #so I choose to Not See It (mostly :P) #quinpost #quinanswer #second least favorite weiss quote? ''I didn't forget you.'' YES YOU DID YOU LITERALLY DID #that line wasn't about leaving him to die it was about recognizing whitley as a victim just like you were #& considering how it must've felt to be alone with only their father as a kid whose siblings had (in his eyes) abandoned him w/o a thought #of course he was a little shit to you it was a wall he put up & a fawn response to trauma #you were a little shit too! He hasn't had the opportunity to meet new ppl and have experiences to change him like you did! #but instead when he asks what he should do you tell him to go to his room and forget about him until he helps you #whitley deserves better <3 #you'd better talk to him about it when you get back #need me some schneebling bonding #maybe he and winter will talk next time we see em #ah heck I'm doing a quin in the tags again

[cevansbrat0007]

Cross-Country Christmas (Teaser)

Summary: After Ari is left stranded by a surprise winter storm, you find yourself wishing for a little Christmas miracle...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Angst, Ari Being A Menace, Holiday Themes, Smut, Arguments, Spanking (mentioned), Pet Names, Cursing, More Warnings to Come Minors DNI

A/N: This is only a TEASER, the longer fic is coming soon. Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

8:30am on Christmas Day - Bell’s Creek, Texas

“I promise I’ll be fine, Beast.” Drying your tears, you crumble up your tissues in your fist before discarding them in favor of taking a sip of your coffee. “Like you just said, there’ll be other holidays. And certainly other Christmases.”

Ari was still stuck in Omaha. And while you had suspected this call was coming, you hadn’t been prepared for how much the disappointment would affect you.

By all accounts, your Bounty Hunter appeared to be in good spirits, albeit a little tired. He was still on standby, even though all flights were still grounded indefinitely. But you’d at least been happy to hear that he’d somehow managed to catch a few hours of sleep. 

Not only that, but he’d also made a new friend in some guy named Clint. They apparently had a number of things in common, with the most important being that they’d both served overseas. Ari had also alluded to his new buddy being in law enforcement as well. 

But if you were being honest, you’d been so focused on trying to sound positive that you hadn’t quite been able to focus on his words as much as you would’ve liked. Thankfully, Ari seemed keen on having a conversation – even if it felt a bit one-sided.

“The airline keeps offering to put us up for the night. Anyone who accepts will be guaranteed a spot on one of the first flights out.” Ari coughs softly before continuing. “However, if you’re willing to wait a little bit there’s talk about them sweetening the deal with some sort of voucher or somethin’, plus miles and all that shit.” 

“Oh?” Is all you can manage, forcing yourself to take another pull of your now lukewarm coffee.

“Yeah. So, Clint and I were thinking…” He trails off, briefly leaning away from the receiver to comment on something you couldn’t see.

“You two were thinking…what?” Your next sip of coffee tastes surprisingly bitter on your tongue. Maybe you would dump out the pot and brew a fresh one. 

“That we should take ‘em up on their offer and just ride this storm out. We take the points, get the voucher, and then maybe in a month or two, we go on a vacation together somewhere nice.” 

“You and Clint?!” You screech, accidentally knocking over your mug in the process. “Shit!” You scramble out of your chair to grab a dish towel and hurriedly mop up the mess. 

“Hate to break it to ya, baby, but Clint’s not really my type.” The Bounty Hunter chuckles into the phone. “I was talking about me and you, Bird. We can pick a destination and have ourselves a holiday do-over.”

A beat goes by before you respond the only way that makes any real, logical sense. Even though it seems to take every last bit of your resolve.  

“Okay.” Your voice comes out small and resigned. 

“Aw now, don’t fret. I’ll be home soon.” Ari does his best to reassure you. “And once I’m back, we will spend every waking minute making up for lost time. You have my word.”

Well, when he put it like that…

“I guess we can hold off for a little while longer.” You sniff, wishing you could just go back to bed and sleep until tomorrow. “But you had better keep your promise, Beast. Otherwise I’m gonna have to track down Santa and ask him for a new man.” 

Your half-hearted attempt at humor elicits a short bark of laughter from Ari which, in turn, makes you smile as well. It would be hard, but you could make it 

“Try it, sweet Bird, and I’m telling you right now that I’ll have you in my truck and over my knee before you make it outta the next county.” Comes his gruff response, clearly not enjoying the image of you hanging off another fella’s arm. 

You know without asking that he’s probably not kidding – so you decide to leave it alone. If he wanted to thump his chest a little, then you’d let him. 

“It was a joke.” You tell him when the line falls silent. Standing, you pad towards the fridge on bare feet, stopping once you reach the doors. Yanking one open, you survey the contents, silently wondering if you should even be bothered enough to cook today. Granted, you’d already brined the turkey so –

“Joking about my replacement isn’t funny, Bird.” Ari growls, the sound rumbling from somewhere deep in his chest. “Especially when I can’t be there in person to plead my case.”

You blow out a harsh breath at the same time as your eyes roll heavenwards. Why couldn't he understand that you needed to crack wise here and there in order to keep from crying?

END TEASER

#cevansbrat0007 Sweet Renegade Series #chris evans imagines #ari levinson imagines #chris evans fanfiction #ari levinson fanfiction #chris evans x you #ari levinson x you #chris evans x black!reader #ari levinson x black!reader #chris evans x woc!reader #ari levinson x woc!reader #chris evans x black reader #ari levinson x black reader #chris evans smut #ari levinson smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female!reader #chris evans x girlfriend!reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x female!reader #ari levinson x girlfriend!reader #chris evans x poc!reader #ari levinson x yn #chris evans x yn #ari levinson x y/n #chris evans x y/n #ari levinson girlfriend!reader #chris evans x fem!reader #ari levinson x fem!reader #ari levinson x poc!reader

[ellieluvr420]

Friends? Never. Pt.20 (Ellie Williams x reader)

MASTERLIST (and information about Palestine) Please read!

SYNOPSIS: You and Ellie had been bitter enemies for years now but before that you were best friends. You had always planned to be roommates one day but when that becomes a reality the situation isn't exactly how you both imagined it.

20 chapters of this fic that has my whole heart whoopee! Tysm for the ongoing love on this fic, you all make my days!

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧   

It was Saturday, the weekend had finally arrived, you and Ellie were looking forward to the day you had planned with Clem. You were going to take her to Joel’s for a little bit as he was always dying to see you all, maybe stop by the park and get some ice cream. It was a perfect day as the sun shone down and cast Jackson in a warm, golden hue; you’d miss summer when it left to be replaced by the cold, short days of winter. There was a certain beauty to winter in Jackson, the pillowy cover of white snow made the whole town look like a beautiful artwork but nothing could beat summer. 

You had all gotten ready and had breakfast together when there was a knock at the door. 

“Oh that can never be good.” You roll your eyes as you walk to the door. 

“Tell ‘em to fuck off whoever they are!” Ellie calls from the kitchen where she was cleaning Clem’s sticky hands from breakfast, you hear Clem’s high-pitched giggles as Ellie joins in, they were going to be the death of you but they never failed to make you laugh. You opened the door and the smile you were wearing immediately dropped as you came face-to-face with Maria whose face told you she had bad news. 

“Hi Maria, everything okay?” Ellie appeared behind you with a puzzled expression as her hand comes to rest on the small of your back. 

“Yeah everything’s fine but we need a last-minute cover on a patrol today, I’m sorry to ask because I know you’ve both been busy with training all week, but I need one of you to fill in on patrol today.” 

“I’ll go.” Ellie pipes up before you can even open your mouth.  

“Okay, thanks Ellie, be at the gates in a half an hour, you should be back by about two so it’s not a long one.” 

“Hold on a minute.” You interrupt before Maria can walk away. “Do you not think we should maybe discuss this first?” You snap at Ellie. 

“There’s no discussion, I’m going, end of.” 

“Who died and made you queen?” Maria backs away from the door slowly as your voice gets progressively angrier and she notes the scowls on each of your faces. 

“Whoever ends up going, be at the gates in half an hour!” She calls. 

“Yeah. Thanks Maria.” You call back sarcastically as you slam the door, following Ellie upstairs as she goes to retrieve her backpack.  

“Stop getting ready to leave! We haven’t even talked about this Ellie.” 

“I’m not talking about it, I’m going, what is so hard to understand about that?” 

“Why are you acting like you’re fucking in charge? We are partners Ellie, you don’t just get to make decisions for us.” 

“Why are you making such a big deal about this?!” 

“Because we have a fucking child! It’s not just us anymore Ellie, if you don’t come back I-” Tears spring in your eyes and she’s quick to rush over to you as her face softens. 

“Hey, hey, I am going to be fine. You heard Maria, I’ll be back by two. Next time, you can go but I’m going this time, okay? Have a nice day with Clem and when I’m back we can go to the pond.” She holds your cheeks and presses your foreheads together as you sniffle in defeat. 

“Please don’t break up. I need you both.” Clem’s voice that mimicked your nasally one sounded out behind you both causing you to spin and rush over to her, scooping her up in your arms and sandwiching her between you as Ellie. 

“Baby no, we’re not breaking up, we were just being silly! Mama and I aren’t going anywhere, pinkie promise.” You hold out your pinkie to her and she smiles as she interlocks hers with yours. 

“I will be back before you even notice I’m gone kiddo.” Ellie assures softly. 

“Pinkie promise?” Her little outstretched pinkie beckons Ellie’s. Pinkie promises had become very important to the three of you, especially Clem, they were her comfort and you both knew that. Ellie glances at you for a second with furrowed eyebrows before fixing a smile onto her face and pinkie promising Clem she’d be back, she genuinely meant it because there’s nothing she wouldn’t do to get back to both of you, it would be the only thought on her mind until she’s back with you. 

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧   

“There they are! How are y’all doing? Where’s Ellie? Not avoiding me again is she?” Joel’s voice masked his anxiety well as Clem giggled and smiled and jumped into his outstretched arms but you noticed it, the insecurity, the panic, the vulnerability you rarely saw from him. You cast a sympathetic smile his way as he stepped aside to beckon you into his home. 

“No Joel, not at all. Maria came by this morning and said she needed one of us to go on patrol and Ellie being Ellie put her foot down and said she was going. She was annoyed she wouldn’t get to see you but you know what she’s like.” He chuckles and you beam as you see the worry in his eyes dissipate. 

“Sounds like Ellie alright. Well thanks for coming over anyway!” 

“Are you kidding? We’ve been looking forward to this all week, Clem hasn’t stopping going on about seeing you, swear she likes you more than us.” He blushes as his looks at the sweet girl in his arms like she’s an angel. You wondered what it’s like for him, to be around a mini-version of Ellie, though from the look of childish excitement on his face, it was all he could’ve asked for.  

“Clemmy, I’ve got a little surprise for you, you like surprises kiddo?” 

“Yes! Yes! Yes! What is ittttt?” Her excitement is palpable as she squirms around in his arms. You both chuckled at her glee as you followed Joel out to the garden, your mouth dropped open as you see the wooden playset standing tall complete with swings, monkey bars, a wall that she could climb up, and a see-saw. 

“I wanted to put a slide in but I couldn’t find any material that would work oh and don’t worry I varnished it all so no splinters I swear!” Clem hugged him tightly before jumping down from his arms and bounding towards the swings, he watches with stars in his eyes at the girl’s elation. You were completely stunned as you just stared at the set and Clem struggling to decide what to try first. “Do you like it? Is it too much?” His voice sounds next to you and you snap your head to face him as you wrap him in a warm embrace. 

“Joel this is so kind of you! We’ll never be able to get her to leave at this rate, you sure that wasn’t your masterplan?” You pull back and quirk an eyebrow at him comically. 

“Oh no you got me!” He plays along and you genuinely feel so much love for him, he had always been so good to you in your parents downfalls but to see him embrace Clem so sweetly, it made you feel warm, like you were glowing.  

You chatted with Joel as Clem ran herself rampant on the playset until she tottered over with a yawn and came to sit in your lap. “Oh is someone tired?” She nods as she leans into you and rubs her eyes, in fairness to her, she had been playing non stop for at least an hour, though you imagined it was longer than that as time always went quicker when you were with her, it was like you were hypnotised by her, completely entranced by the joy she elicited. “Hm well I guess that means you’re too tired for ice cream then right?” Suddenly her head pops up, her mouth dropped open and her eyes wide as she shakes her head vigorously. 

“No, no, I’m okay, I want ice cream... Wait, what’s ice cream?” You and Joel both laugh heartily at her confusion. 

“Wanna find out?” She nods her head and you beam at her before directing your attention to Joel. “Wanna come with us?” 

“Oh no I shouldn’t, I got stuff to do around the house but you have a nice time.” You both say your goodbyes, Clem hugging Joel extra tight and thanking him over and over again for the playset before you set off into town to get some ice cream with Clem. 

You pass the park and she sprints off towards it before stopping at the gate and begging you with those puppy-dog eyes she had mastered to go in. “My goodness, aren’t you all played out?” 

“Nuh-uhhh! Pleaseee can we go in, please please please.”  

“Of course we can baby, you can do whatever you want!” She jumps up and down before bounding towards the large slide that she goes down at least five times before she shows any sign of being remotely done. You watched and joined in when she beckoned you until she grabbed your hand and led you out of the park.  

“Can we get ice cream now please?” 

“For someone that doesn’t know what ice cream is, you sure want it don’t you?” You chuckle. “Of course we can get ice cream.” Her excitement at the unknown was refreshing as you squeezed her hand and led her towards the small cafe opposite the tipsy bison that did ice cream all throughout the Summer, you remember the first time you had it as a child and you couldn’t wait to share that with Clem. You both walked along enjoying the summer sun until you saw those two snide girls you had beaten up not all that long ago, snickering and pointing at you both. You were planning on ignoring them and hoping Clem didn’t notice but when you looked down at Clem and saw her saddened eyes looking up at you, you knew she had.  

“Mommy, why are they pointing at us?” You squeeze her hand and pull her closer to you. 

“Because they think you are just sooo cute they can’t help but point it out for everyone to see, you are that cute baby.” She smiles and you hope you can just walk past them without any drama but from the hateful sneers and the way their course changed directly towards you, you knew you were being naive. 

“How are they letting you freaks have kids now?” The blonde one snarked. 

“Poor thing, having dykes for parents.” The brunette one added. You swore you wouldn’t engage, you promised yourself you’d set a good example, but they took it too far, you open your mouth to spew a series of hateful comments, refraining from killing them in front of Clem because that was not an option unfortunately, but Clem beat you to it as she crossed her arms over her chest defensively while stomping her foot. 

“You shut up! You’re both ugly and smelly and my mommies are better than both of you!” She screeched and as they went to laugh she kicked them both in the shin causing them to keel over and hiss in pain. 

“You little bitch! Guess you do deserve them.” The brunette one groaned as she spoke. 

“Fuck off.” You spit at them as you scowl. 

“Yeah, fuck off!” Clem mimics you and suddenly you understood why Ellie found it so funny when Clem swore. You scooped her up and walked off leaving the girls still on the floor as you and Clem high-five with cheeky giggles. “Do I still get ice cream? I know it’s bad to swear.” She looks guilty and you can’t help but smile. 

“Oh, you get an extra big ice cream baby. But don’t tell mama I’m rewarding this because she will never let me live it down.” She giggles and nods as you walk into the cafe. You put her down and let her run over to the counter where Grace, the older woman who always worked there since you can remember was waiting and smiling. 

“Ice cream please!” She squeals. 

“What flavour honey? Vanilla, chocolate or strawberry?” Clem looks back at you clearly unsure of her answer. 

“All three please!” You answer for her and as she’s handed the cone with the scoops piled high, she looks like she’s one the lottery. “Thanks Grace.” 

“Thank you!” You both walk off to sit in a booth in the shop as she just stares at the cone.  

“You gotta lick it honey.” She makes an O sound with her mouth before beginning to devour the ice cream, ecstasy painted all over her face as well as ice cream that was now spread all over her cheeks, she even had a little streak on her forehead somehow. You watched as she savoured every last bit until she was only left with the cone. “You can eat the cone too.” She gasped and took a bite of the cone, barely giving herself a second to breathe as she delved into the rest of it until the only traces of the ice cream left was all over her face and hands. She stuck her palms out to you with a grimace as she chuckled. 

“I’m all sticky!” 

“Yeah, it looks like your face got more of the ice cream than your mouth silly! I’ll get some napkins and we can clean you up huh?” She nodded and you slid out of the booth to grab some napkins, returning to the messy kid and doting on her like she’s an extension of you because to you, she was. You each chatted about everything and nothing until you looked at the time and realised Ellie would be back soon. “Wanna go wait for mama to get back?” 

“Yes!” You both take your leave, saying goodbye to Grace as you exited before starting a slow stroll to the gates. You arrived just as they were closing and you spotted Ellie climbing down from Shimmer in a heartbeat, she was back and she was okay. As she spotted you, she handed one of the stable hands Shimmer’s reins and rushed over to you both, scooping Clem into her arms with a small wince and pecking your lips as you hugged them both. As you looked at her up-close, you noticed the black eye she was sporting as well as a few other bruises and cuts, her eyes tired and her body a little shaky. You wordlessly communicated as you took Clem from her arms and brushed a gently hand over her cheek. “You okay babe?” 

“Better now I’m back with you.” She kissed your cheek and as you heard a small sniffle from Clem you both looked at the now crying girl in concern. “Kiddo, what’s up?” 

“Are you gonna die?” 

“What? No baby, of course not. I promise I am just fine.” 

“But you look bad.” 

“Nothing like a kid’s honesty eh?” She flashes a lop-sided smile at you before pouting a little. 

“How about we go home and you can help me make Mama all better Clemmy?” 

“Okay.” She dragged out meekly before you all set off back home, Clem holding Ellie’s hand as you wrapped an arm around her waist to support her. She was okay but she was definitely tired as she limped subtly, you’d go to the pond tomorrow, today she needed to rest. 

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧   

“Wanna help me put a band-aid on mama?” You had already cleaned Ellie’s cuts, Clem didn’t look quite so scared now as Ellie looked a lot better with the dried blood and grime gone but Clem still hid behind you slightly. You could tell Ellie was saddened by it as her eyes begged Clem to not be afraid, the whole scene was hard to watch. “Clem, why don’t you go get your markers for me hm? I’ll finish patching up Mama.” She nodded and ran off to get her markers as you squeezed Ellie’s hand. “You know it’s only because she’s worried about you right?” 

“She’s scared of me.” 

“She’s not babe. You’ll see, she just sees you’re hurt and she doesn’t like that, neither do I. I’m mad at Maria to be honest, I’m mad at Jackson, I’m getting sick of this shit.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I had a run-in with Petra and Suze again today, called us dykes in front of Clem, I feel suffocated in Jackson sometimes, I mean, this place is as close as it gets to normal these days and still there’s so much hate, just pisses me off.” 

“Sorry babe, are you okay?” 

“I’m fine, Clem kicked them both, I had to stop myself from falling over laughing.” 

“Oh my god she’s so much like me.” 

“I know, I thought the same thing.” 

“Poor you huh?” 

“I’m the luckiest girl in the world.” You press a sweet kiss to her lips as Clem walks back in the room with her markers. “Clemmy, Mama wants you to draw on her band-aids, you wanna do that?” She smiles and nods as she climbs into Ellie’s lap, cupping her cheeks with her small hands. 

“You promise you’re okay Mama?” 

“Pinkie.” They pinkie promise and Clem hugs her tightly before excitedly flicking through her coloured pens to draw on the assortment of plasters you had put on Ellie. Ellie’s face relaxes as Clem seemed back to normal around her and she smiled at you warmly as she held your hand, rubbing circles into your palm with her thumb. 

tags: @emiliabby @readbydayana @radioheadfan699 @lil-elliesgf @isitadinosaur @amberputh @maelovescashew @a-little-bit-of-everybody @moonspowder

#ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams tlou #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #tlou ellie #ellie williams smut #ellie smut #ellie williams angst #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x you

[fiction-box]

Solstice (F!Robin X Chrom)

Hello everyone, and happy @nagamas! I would like to wish a very special holiday season to my recipient, settphels, over on X. May you have a healthy 2024, and I hope you enjoy my work!

Requests are open. The story will continue under the cut.

“Lissa! Slow down!” Robin begged as the young princess dragged her through the snow.

“I wouldn’t have to go this fast if you hadn’t taken so long to get ready! Honestly, Robin, I’m surprised the sun hasn’t melted all the snow yet!”

It was the first day of the cold season that the snow stopped falling in Ferox, leaving the ground covered in a soft, clean sheet of white powder. Regardless, the tactician tugged her coat tighter to her chest with her free hand. The Feroxian cold chilled her to the bone; an idea solidified in the fact that this was the first winter she could remember.

Robin liked to think she came from somewhere nice and warm.

The women slowed to a stop a few yards from the large estate that Khan Flavia so graciously provided her champions. Frederick and Chrom were probably inside, writing up reports on their progress and deciding how next to move the Shepherds. Robin originally intended to join them, but Lissa talked her out into the snow before she even knew what was happening.

“Remind me why we’re standing out here, Lissa?” she shivered. “It’s freezing!”

“I told you, we have to make a snowman! Normally, Em would be here to help me, but since she couldn’t come with us, you get to be my assistant today,” Lissa smiled.

“A snowman…? But I don’t know how - I didn’t bring a tome with me or anything,” Robin frowned, glancing back at the estate.

The youngest princess of Ylisse giggled, “You don’t need magic, silly. I can’t believe you don’t know how to make a snowman.”

“Rubbing it in isn’t helping,” Robin muttered sheepishly.

“Here, watch.”

The blonde bent toward the snow, picking up a handful of powder and shaping it into a ball between her gloved hands.

“The trick is to apply a bit of pressure so the snow sticks together and forms a sphere. Then,” she added, setting the snowball down as she lowered herself to the ground, “you’ll keep patting more into it until it grows into a giant snowball.”

Robin watched silently, her breath forming clouds in the air as Lissa used her arms and hands to pull snow toward her. Soft crunching sounds accompanied her light taps on her creation as the original sphere tripled in size.

The princess paused, looking up as if to gauge Robin’s understanding. Or maybe just to see if she was paying attention - Robin didn’t know Lissa well enough to tell just yet.

“Okay, now it’s your turn.”

So the woman with hair the color of the winter around them knelt to the ground, scooping nearby snow into her gloves before pushing her hands together.

Upon opening her hands, flakes of white fell between her fingers and out of her palm.

Robin pursed her lips, determined to give it another try as she brushed off her hands and picked up more snow. This time, she added more pressure and held slightly less in her hand.

The result presented itself as a small, almond-shaped pile. It looked fragile even before Robin set it down, the “snowball” cleaving in half upon impact with the soft layer blanketing the grass.

A stifled snicker came from Lissa’s direction while the tactician huffed. How could anyone stick the snow together when it just brushes against the other flakes? Whenever she got enough snow onto the ball, it just crumbled to dust.

The fifth time she failed to make the snow stick together long enough, Robin simply stretched her neck to the sky and closed her eyes.

Meanwhile, Lissa appeared happy to show her support in the way she rolled on the icy ground, overtaken by a fit of giggles.

“Ah, yes. I’m glad you find my failure funny,” Robin glared, turning her head back to her companion.

“I- I’m-!” the girl gasped, “Ha! You can’t even-!

“What are you two doing out here?”

Chrom’s footfalls crunched loudly in the snow as he approached, eyeing the areas where the snow no longer looked even.

“Oh my goodness! Chrom!” Lissa managed. Her smile still went from ear to ear. “You have to see-! Robin can’t even make a snowball…”

The woman in question felt her ears going pink as blood rushed to her face, “Well I’m sorry I’ve never done this before! I don’t even really understand what it is that we’re doing!”

The prince of Ylisse simply sighed before taking a seat in the cold next to Robin.

“Don’t be so mean, Lissa. You should have been helping her instead of laughing.”

“Hmph. We were only having fun - you don’t have to lecture me.”

“Really?” Chrom teased, “What do you think Em would say?”

“Sh-she doesn’t have to know!”

He laughed, turning back to the newest Shepherd before picking up some snow of his own.

“Here, this way is easier,” his hand and palms were cupped closed, interlocking perfectly. “The way Lissa likes to do it can be a bit harder since she keeps her fingers splayed open - try keeping them close together.”

“Wow, you don’t even have gloves on. Aren’t you cold?”

The blue-haired prince shook his head, “I just came from inside, so I’m not too cold yet. Besides, using the heat from my palms tends to make it easier to make snowballs.”

“Lucky you.”

“You certainly seem like you wish you were inside,” Chrom chuckled. “You look so unacclimated.”

Robin chose to lightly ignore him, instead focusing on copying his movements exactly as she watched them performed earlier. After applying what she deemed an appropriate amount of pressure, she tilted her hand open…

…only to watch it crumble again.

Her result did not improve the next two times she tried.

Her fourth attempt for Chrom almost yielded a snowball; save for a few light angles here and there, the shape formed a ball well enough.

“There you go,” he encouraged.

Her breathing grew shallow as she turned her palm upright, removing her other hand to let it stand on its own.

Of course, Robin should have known not to expect much as she watched it split in three upon supporting its own weight in her hand.

“Agh-! Are you kidding me? I’m completely hopeless at this.”

A short exhale came from Chrom’s nose. Robin looked up quickly enough to see him fighting a smile before he cleared his throat.

“Here, let me help you.”

Easily, Chrom took one of her hands into his own. The tactician’s palm faced the sky as the prince used his other hand to lift a small pile of snow. Guiding her hand to his other one, he pressed the snow between their palms with much more force than Robin had been using to make her snowballs.

Transfixed, she watched Chrom’s hands envelope her own as the snow grew more firm upon her palm. He rotated her palm once more until it faced the sky again. Finally, he lifted his hands away and released her glove.

A perfect sphere.

“Showoff,” she smirked at him.

“I try.”

Robin returned her eyes to what they made together, admiring the ease he brought to something that stressed her out just moments ago.

Things were just easier with Chrom in general.

“You guys are so slow!” Lissa whined from behind Chrom, rolling a sizable snowball back to where she originally sat with Robin.

“Oh my-!” Robin gasped in awe. “Lissa, how did you do that?”

“What, this?” she gestured to the snowball.

Chrom put his hand on Robin’s shoulder and shifted to block her view “Gods, don’t stroke her ego. We’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Hey!” the princess interjected. “I can’t help being better at this than you two! I’m naturally gifted at this sort of thing.”

Her brother gave a quick laugh before crafting a snowball and throwing it at her. It made contact with her coat, prompting her to quickly bend over and make a snowball of her own. She threw it at Chrom, though he anticipated her attack and moved out of the way just in time.

“Ah! Hah! Cold! Cold!” Robin shivered, the snow from Lissa’s throw sliding down her neck to her chest. Reflexively, she set the snowball she and Chrom made down before tugging her coat tightly around her chest.

“Why is it so cold in Ferox?” she whined as the snow melted, drenching her undershirt.

“Now look, Lissa. You hit Robin!”

“It wouldn’t have hit her if you had just stayed still! Besides, what makes you think I’m not freezing from when you hit me?”

“You deserved it though,” Chrom raised a brow.

“Fine then,” Lissa huffed. “I’m going inside!”

“What? You’re the reason we’re out here!” Robin argued.

“I know...I’m just…I’m going to grab some things for our snowman. It needs a nose and some eyes, you know.”

“Right now?”

“Why not?” the princess stretched before turning toward the estate, “Someone has to get it eventually, I might as well go right now. Have fun taking forever to finish the snowman.”

Before either of her companions could get a word in otherwise, Lissa ran away to the warm shelter.

“Sorry about that,” Chrom sighed.

“It’s just Lissa being Lissa, you don’t need to apologize.”

“Still, I wouldn’t have moved out of the way if I knew you’d be hit by that snowball,” he frowned. “Here, let me.”

Swiftly, the prince unwrapped the scarf from his neck before putting it around Robin’s. The blue fabric went around one, two times before he left it to drape down her chest.

“If you’d like to tuck it underneath your shirt or your coat, feel free,” he remarked, suddenly enamored with the small snowball in front of them.

Robin took a few seconds to do just that before Chrom cleared his throat again.

“We should probably finish this before she comes back out though. I can hold the snowball if you’d like to pack more onto it. We’ll roll it around once it gets big enough.”

The tactician shook her head, “I think it might be better if I hold it while you do all the complicated stuff.”

“Complicated?” Chrom’s eyes found hers, a small smirk on his face.

“You saw me earlier! Besides, I’m the one wearing gloves. At least your hands get a break if you’re patting the snow.”

He nodded, handing her the snowball before he lifted more and more of the powder to press into it. Occasionally, he would grab her wrist or her arm for leverage, but the process mostly felt like a game to the woman. Chrom applied more snow, and Robin guessed where she’d have to apply resistance to the pressure.

The two finished in a matter of minutes, though Robin gave the prince most of the credit. Their creation landed on the snow beneath them as they stood to roll it around the untouched areas on the ground.

“It’s traditional to stack snowmen three layers tall back in Ylisse,” the prince remarked. “Feroxian tradition is a bit different; they use two layers. I think it has something to do with the two Khans, but Lissa knows more about it than I do.”

“They have more than enough precipitation here to make them four layers tall,” Robin speculated.

“True,” Chrom chuckled, “but it would probably start snowing again in the time it would take to make that many snowballs.”

With that, they finished rolling the ball in the snow. The pair worked together to get it back to Lissa’s snowball, lifting theirs to place atop hers.

“Gods,” Robin huffed, “definitely a group activity.”

“We aren’t finished quite yet. Lissa said she would grab the eyes and nose, but we should probably find branches for the arms and something for its mouth.”

“Hmm…” Robin looked around. A small forest of trees stood tall several yards away, so branches wouldn’t be too hard to find.

“I can go grab some rocks from the main road by the estate. Do you think those would work?”

“Oh, I didn’t think of that,” she responded. “Sure. I can head toward the forest for branches.”

Walking against the wind, Robin began to realize just how cold she had gotten from spending so much time outside. Her gloves were soaked through from handling so much snow, and although Chrom’s scarf helped, she still wore her damp, frigid undershirt.

At least the snowman only needed a few more items. Once they wrapped this up, Robin would curl up in a chair with a blanket and a book until she could feel her toes again.

As her feet trudged along the edge of the forest, she began to wonder if Lissa planned to come back outside any time soon. Surely, she would at least help decorate their new friend.

Robin glanced around the uneven forest floor. Most of the branches that fell to the ground looked too thick for a snowball - their work would probably fall apart if she tried to use anything as large as the hilt of her sword.

Out of nowhere, her foot failed to find purchase as the ground crumbled away beneath her. It seemed the snow hadn’t landed in the exact shape of the forest, thanks to the branches blocking the precipitation from earlier.

“Woah-!”

She blindly tumbled down what was either a large hill or a small cliff - Robin wasn’t sure - as the shock of the frigid snow caused her to cry out. The tiny crystals invaded her coat, gloves, pants, and boots, her fall absorbed by the powder and a mix of her shoulders, knees, and hips.

At least it was soft. Well, as soft as plummeting through a forest could be.

Her momentum abruptly halted as she reached the lower level of the woods. Covered in snow, it was all she could do to thank Naga she hadn’t slammed into a tree and passed out.

Panicked and still high on adrenaline, Robin managed to lift her head out of the powder. Her chest had slammed into the ground, and she could hardly breathe. Though the Shepherd gasped for air, she couldn’t feel it entering her lungs.

“...-bin…?”

That was Chrom, though he sounded a bit far. As much as she wanted to call back to him, she couldn’t find her voice. Hopefully he could just follow the tracks she inevitably left behind.

“...Robin! Where are you? Are you-”

Once the voice grew close enough, the tactician turned her attention to the top of the hill. Sure enough, the prince of Ylisse stared back at her.

“I heard you scream,” he commented lamely, confusion on his face after scanning over her snow-dusted form. “Hang on, I’ll be right there.”

Chrom staggered his feet on the slope, using his arm to brace himself as he steadily slid down toward her.

In the seconds it took him to approach her, Robin attempted to brush herself off as well as she could with her shivering hands before struggling to stand.

The young lord arrived on solid ground, hastening his steps to get to his tactician, “Gods, Robin, what happened to you? You fell all the way down here from up there?”

“Not my proudest moment,” her teeth chattered.

“Nevermind then,” Chrom rushed to wrap her arm around his shoulder and support her. “Let’s just get you back to the shelter so you can warm up.”

“Yeah, I think I’m done with snow for today. Maybe we can take a different route back?”

The pair circled the small cliff, looking for a hill that appeared decidedly less steep. Thankfully, there appeared to be a safer option in the western part of the wood.

“We could probably get back faster if I carried you,” Chrom offered.

Robin liked to think that, in any other scenario, she might have hesitated before politely rejecting his offer. In the moment, however, she immediately welcomed the idea of giving her body a rest.

Unwrapping her arm from his shoulder, the Ylissean turned and lowered himself just enough so that Robin could climb onto his back. He was always lightly wary of how steady she was on her feet, encouraging her to balance using his arm until he safely lifted her off the ground.

“You’re lucky I was able to find you in the snow with that white hair of yours,” he started as he continued their trip back to the estate. “Things could always be worse.”

“Could be much better, too,” she frowned.

“I won’t argue with that.”

It didn’t take Chrom as long as Robin thought it would to return to the upper level of the forest and exit the woods. She supposed her original guess was influenced both by the pain in her limbs, the cold, and how much she slowed Chrom down.

She felt him let out a soft breath of air as they finally arrived to see Lissa doing their job for them.

“About time! I was thinking you were never going to-”

Once her eyes absorbed the sight of how disheveled her brother and her friend were, the princess dropped the buttons she was adjusting on the snowman and rushed to guide the two inside.

“There are some blankets on the couch, but I should probably help Robin out of those wet clothes first. And I was hoping to surprise you with cocoa when you came inside - it’s already prepared and sitting on the coffee table.”

Once the three made it through the door, Chrom lowered the woman off his back. He offered his arm to help her stand as Lissa took off her coat and boots. The princess led her to a spare room while her brother began to take off his own outer layers.

“Gosh, Robin. You need to be more careful - it’s only a matter of time before you get in over your head.”

“It wasn’t on purpose…”

Lissa sighed, pulling her drenched friend in for a hug, “I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”

Just as quickly, the youngest princess pulled away with a shiver.

“You’re way too cold! Let’s get you into something warm so we can all stop worrying, okay?”

Once everyone was finally warm in the common room and Frederick started a fire, it became much easier to laugh about everything that happened that day. Then, after a short argument that Lissa had no intention of losing, Robin surrendered her drenched coat for the day so Lissa could put it on their snowman. After all, if it had a coat, their wintry friend would have no need for branches as its arms.

Perhaps everything turned out right in the end.

#nagamas #fire emblem #fiction #chrobin #f!robin #lissa #fe chrom #fe awakening #fire emblem awakening #fe robin #fe lissa #romance #fluff #fe13

[mii-cherry]

The Curse of Ramshackle

I try my best to hold on to the vision to try and find it again in the dark of my dreams but nothing is coming back, Frustration fills my head.

Why? Why do these visions come by with meaning to this world , only for most of them to be so useless!

Why?. . .

Why?. .

Why!

WHY

"WHY SHOW ME SOMETHING I CAN'T UNDERSTAND!?"

"MMMRRAAA WHAT? WHAT HAPPENED!?"

I'm shot up from my sleep, breathing heavily with sweat on my forehead my chest is tight with frustration I come back to seeing my room again and how bright it was through the curtains.

"What was that all about Kuro!? Did something eat our food!?" Grim asked confused from my earlier outburst.

Calming down a bit I answered Grim's question "It's nothing, I just had another one of those dreams again."

"Eh you mean the ones you had about the seven? But didn't you already go through all of em?" Grim asked confused.

"Yeah, I thought so too but this one was about a. . . Sack man and . . . Santa Clause?" I still try to wrap my head around the dream this time around.

" Uhhh what's a Santa Clause?"

Oh, right twst doesn't seem to have a Santa Clause at least that I know of.

"He's a guy that gives presents to behaving kids around winter from my world he's a holiday figure" I try to explain but I'm not gonna bet on Grim getting it right away.

"Well any important info about the dream?" Grim inquiries

"Nothing that is relevant at this moment maybe it will be useful later?." I'm not very confident with this dream it doesn't seem to have any relevancy with the seven and any of the dorms.

"Well, if It's not useful to us I will be getting my morning tuna!" Grim said excitedly hopping off the bed to head downstairs

I sigh letting my last bits of anger go, taking my phone from the night stand I look at the time.

10:34 am

Oh right Ace and Duece are coming over today, I should probably get up too.

I get up to start the morning but the last moment my dream nags at the back of my head it seems more significant more. . . Present? The hole in the wall felt real it felt like I could reach it right there.

_________________________________________

The rest of the morning goes normally and before I knew it there was a knock at the door already.

"I'm gonna get the door."

Opening the front door revealed the two Heartslabyul trouble makers Ace already waiting impatiently.

"Sup, Kuro! Didn't get bored without us did you?" Ace said in his snarky way as always.

"We brought some dessert from Trey-san!" Duece holds up a basket of pastries.

"It was only a day believe me I was fine." I replied back.

I stepped aside with Ace making himself at home right away on the couch, Duece placed the basket on the coffee table taking a seat next to Ace.

"Mra, you guys brought dessert!" Grim appeared already taking a pastry from the basket.

"Oi, don't eat everything I still want some too!" Ace scolded Grim taking one for himself as well.

The rest of the time was spent talking about everyone's week and also mostly Ace complaining about random things

_________________________________________

an hour has passed by now with Ace still going on about Riddles punishment from yesterday.

"I think it's unreasonable to have to do all these dumb rules while I have way more important tasks to do!" Ace complaint

*crack*

"Yeah, busy doing nothing you were just playing games on your phone!" Duece retorts back.

*Crack*

"You guys can't go on an hour without bickering eh" Grim said pasty in his hands

*Crack!*

There is a cracking sound echoing in the distance

Do they not hear it or am I being crazy?

I look at the hallway and the sound seems to be somewhere where the cracking of wood is blurred, I have long tunned out Ace, Duece and Grim my sight is only on the faraway noise.

*CRACK*

Whatever conversation that happened was put to a halt all four of us staring in the hallways direction.

"Uhh, what was that?" Duece asked

"Maybe It was the rats!"

"Rats? No way that was rats, that was super loud!" Ace looked at Grim confused

Getting up from my seat I start to head to the source of the noise

"Wait, Kuro you don't know what made that noise! It could be a super rat for all we know!" Grim came after me scared with Aduece duo coming fast after.

"Really? Super rat is the best you can think of?"

I follow where I think the noise came from, It seems to come from the complete back of Ramshackle the way is blocked by a door at end of the hall walls and floor is allot more dirtier and broken than in front because nobody comes here.

"Wait, wait, wait we're not going to actually go through the door, right?" Duece asked concerned about what could be found.

"What? You scared?" Ace teased

"A-Am not! If anything you'll be scared!"

I open the door, for some reason I feel drawn to the noise.

I need to know

I need to know what that is. . .

Holes and wild spider webs hang along the walls of the room the decay is all over this room, It seems to have been a study of some kind broken book shelf with withering books laying about.

"I don't think we've been here before." I say moving more inside the room to get a better look.

"Be careful guys we don't know what could be hier." Duece said to all of us.

"Yeah, yeah whatever." Ace and Grim said I unison.

Duece just rolled his eyes at their antics

I come to the middle of the room at the end of a wall is a giant decorative mirror with a green glowing gem at the top embedded in the mirror there are also big cracks in it, it seems to ooze a black goo.

"Oi, What's that gross looking stuff?" Ace looked curiously from afar at the mirror.

"Eh, it smells pretty tasty!" Grim sniffed the air for more of the scent

"Grim, please don't eat that!" Duece pleaded with him.

Approaching the mirror I watch the goo I take a good look at it and recognize it

"It's. . . Blot." I said worriedly

"You sure Kur-

*SLAM*

The door where we came from slammed itself shut we all immediately rushed toward the door

Ace tries hard to open the door again but to no avail it stays firmly shut

" Ugh! Fuck it won't open!" Frustration comes from Ace.

" Let me try!"Duece yelled determined, he placed this foot against the wall hands tightly to the door knob and pulled as hard as he could but nothing budget.

"C'mon try harder!!!" Grim started to panic

"I'M TRYING!"

*CRACK*

We look back to the mirror and it gained more cracks suddenly the blot oozing out of them more vigorously than before

"Break down the door if you have to!" I yelled toward the others.

"AhahhahAHAHAHA!!!"

A deranged laughter is heard beyond the mirror I look back to see the blot coming together to form something

"FINALY,OUT Of THAT ICKY BLOT HOLE!"

The form is now part of a formed person head and chest out with a single arm reaching out of the mirror.

"I might just split a seam with all this excitement!"

#twisted wonderland #twst #artwork #disney twisted wonderland #artists on tumblr #disney twst #digital illustration #original character #twst oc #Twst The Curse of Ramshackle AU #Twts au #ace trappola #duece spade #twst grim #disney twst yuu #This is the longest Tumblr post I ever made #pretty proud of this one #Not me spelling dueces name wrong and having to go back and fix it all🥲

[kafka-ish]

DERRY, MAINE | r.t.

richie finds out who the girl he’s been seeing is

word count: 1.1k

warnings/included: angst-ish

a/n: based off tyler the creator’s WILSHIRE. don’t know if i’m back. trying a new writing style. feedback is always nice. 

-

the sharp sound of FUCK erupts from richie’s mouth when his figure collides with another one. you’re annoyed at first, but once you see his face you’re able to keep your temper. something saccharine leaves his lips--an apology--he’s saying, Jesus dollface, if i’d known something as pretty as you were in the area, maybe i’d come here more often. now you’re blushing; wondering if you should tell him you’re not from around here. 

“god, of course not. they don’t make ‘em like you near... so where’re you from? surely a pretty face like that has a strict dad to get home to.” a lanky finger pokes the underside of your nose. if you knew richie tozier any better, you’d figure he’d be calling you a rose. but you don’t know richie. you don’t even know his name. you have to muster up the courage to ask him that, but he’s the first to cut to the chase. “what do they call a face like yours anyway? s’pose i could just call you gorgeous...sweetheart...mine” he takes extra care in saying that last one clear as day. but it’s cloudy outside--forecast calls for rain. he notices this and offers his jacket before opening the door to a record shop. 

he’s a local there; you’ve never stepped foot. he makes a bee -line for the vintage rock section and waits for you with nirvana in his hand, hendrix in the other. 

“is there something you go by?” you realize this is the first thing you’ve said other than telling him your city of residence--bangor (’shit! mom, pops, and i go down there during the winter’). you didn’t even apologize after the run -in. 

“i got the ‘rents calling me richard, but i’m richie on my off days.” 

“are you working today?” he laughs because you catch on quick.

“awh, not with you here next to me. i’d call off any day if that’s the case... hey, how ‘bout a number to go with your name?”

so you’re talking now--you and him. he asks you what things you like and if he’s on that list. he says it again, and again, and you’re at his parents’ place when he’s wondering when you guys will Just Date. 

this is the fifth time you’ve been over. the first, you watched a movie, and it would continue like that until the third. your criterion watchlist slowly deteriorates. movies are replaces for newly cultivated feelings for the person sitting next to you. he’s flipping through films like they’re playboys at the check -out lane. “i’m so tired of this french shit.” it bores him how the way intricately laced bodies don’t do it for a porn addict. “you pick.” you say okay and thirty minutes in, still no one has said anything. richie turns to you and watches your eyebrows furrow. he has that face that suggests he’ll make a move, say something. but he doesn’t. you’re the one to break the silence. 

“we don’t have to watch this.” your eyes are on his. 

“nah, baby, i want to.” but he’s still looking at you. he hasn’t checked the screen since he caught sight of the stray freckle on your cheek. you tense at this. baby was never on the list; nicknames typically vary from sweetheart or gorgeous. it’s never this intimate. there’s tension in the air that’s broken with a kiss. richie’s lips are on yours but he doesn’t go any further than this. 

“i’m seeing someone,” you say, quick. richie’s face falls for eternity. his heart was just pushed off a cliff. 

“shit, i had no idea.” 

“it’s fine. it’s not serious.” but it’s serious to him. his heart just got seriously broken in the matter of minutes. seconds. milliseconds. “i’m into you, though.” these words got him smirking. his curls bounce in a bliss. “i’m into you, too.” 

you still keep up, showing up at his place on the regular. it’s down -low and you were skeptical at first, but now it feels normal. you’re wearing his shirt and his hand holds yours. 

eddie gets on him for missing two game nights in a row. but richie doesn’t care because he’d rather be here, next to you, than here having conversations about the color of bill’s new girl’s underwear. 

denbrough’s got a new girl. it’s all he’s been talking about for the past few months. she’s great. everything about her’s got him hooked. she’s his bait. her lips are the most perfect shade of red and she kisses like she knows how to. she’s got these big eyes that look great especially when--

“yeah that’s enough. thank you.” 

stan mumbles something under his breath about how she’s probably just average and this is just the first time bill got a girl in his pants. 

none of the losers have ever met her until the next game night. ben made a comment about how he hasn’t seen richie in forever, It seems. and eddie goes on about how he’s been ditching the gang; You’re a traitor. 

“in my defense, i had a hot date.” not actual date. but they would get dinner, he would pay, and his eyes would linger on lips. his fingers itching to feel that warm graze. 

“yeah right.” / “what does she look like?” / “did you get to third base?”

richie’s friends become a crowd; asking what she looks like; is she a good kisser; do you think you’ll bring her? 

but she’s already been brought. you and bill enter together. richie’s jaw drops. 

a whistle; eddie’s mouth a circle. your dress is tight; it hugs your hips just right, and falls just above the knees leaving little for bill and his friends’ imagination. 

fuck, bill, how’d you score one like that? is what richie would’ve said if he weren’t stunned with silence and it hadn’t come out of stan’s mouth instead. and bill doesn’t know whether to be flattered or to punch the boy he calls a friend. ‘nice one’ is the line he opts for instead. 

“how ‘bout another round?” richie’s already dealing out the deck conscientiously--his strategy so he doesn’t have to make eye contacr with the girl he had his arm around last week.

“you got a sadistic streak, tozier,” says eddie confidently, who wins that round later.

it’s later when richie calls and you answer as you’ve been doing regularly: “hello?” you answer in the nonchalant voice that he loves to hear and it takes him all the restraint he can muster to stop himself from walking out that door. 

“hey.” his heart pangs and around his throat snakes an invisible chain cutting off any ability he once had to breathe. 

“richie!” you say, as if it never occurred to you why the phone was ringing in the first place, that you were bill’s date. your finger coils around the landline wire. your lips fold and bite into a smirk. richie hears your breath smiling from the other line. richie, with his sharp intuition, knows. 

the phone clicks goodbye. 

#richie tozier #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier fic

[faust-the-enjoyer]

A Moment of Joy.

Warnings: gn!reader, reader and Keegan have a kid, kid's nickname is "Charlie", the kid is 7, sfw but minors dni, domestic bliss, fluff.

You're crouched next to your child, looking at her in awe as she looks at the birdfeeder you just filled, and at the same time, Keegan's got a camera recording the both of you, talking in the background. "Charlie, what do you see?", he asks his kid, "Birds!", Charlie points at the birdfeeder, a big smile on her face, the same reflected on you and Keegan's face. The birds gather around the posted birdfeeder, their chirps filling up the ears of all three of you as Keegan turns the camera towards them, sunlight beams coming through some clouds in the sky in the background, then after, turns towards you and Charlie. "Are they happy? They sound happy.", she asks you, hearing the birds singing, and seeing them eat away on the house-shaped birdfeeder, "Yes! They're getting food, so they're no longer hungry.", you reassure her, "Are they gonna travel with their friends?", she asks you innocently, "No actually, these types of birds don't usually travel far away with their friends!", you tell her, "Do you know what type of bird they are, pumpkin?", Keegan chimes in, curious, as you and Charlie spent so much time in the backyard, so maybe the kid knows some bird names now?

"Uhm, they're red? I don't know daddy.", she laughs, you read so many animal books to her, it would be surprising if she didn't know some bird species, "No baby,", he laughs, "bird colours are different than their types, see this one is red, it's called a Cardinal.", "Oh.", Charlie says, "Yeah, these little birdies usually come to people's backyards.", you tell her, you three watched the birds come and go in your backyard through your windows, but never up this close, that's why you and Keegan installed the birdfeeder, so you can all take a better look at the birds, you were sure Charlie would love it, as she loves animals.

"I wanna draw them!", she says excitedly, "Alright, want me to get you your painting stuff?", you ask her, you two have taught her to have good manners, so what she's supposed to say is- "Yes please!", you stand up, Keegan pointing the camera at you then back at his daughter once you disappear inside the house, "Will they be cold in the winter?", she asks, pouting, she's always had a big heart for animals, asking you to help her put water for some stray cats outside during the summer heat, or having Keegan help her clean up her windows so that the birds can lay their nest on it, "Well sweetheart, as long as we keep feeding them, they'll stay warm in the winter, that's how we can help 'em.", he tells her, and you emerge from the door again, walking towards the two, a pencil case and a small sketchbook in your hands. Keegan turns the camera off, having decided he recorded enough memories for the weekend.

You handed her the book and pencil case, pointing to a wooden table with four seats for her to sit on, it's close to the birdfeeder so she can see the birds quite well from there. You all sit down, seeing her open the pencil case fast, the zipper getting stuck for a minute, making both you and Keegan laugh sweetly. She takes her pencils out and opens the sketchbook, flipping through her older animal drawings, and one cute and simple sketch of you and Keegan as stick figures, until she finds a new, clean page on her sketchbook.

You look over at Keegan as she starts drawing, smiling with content at him as he looks back at you, his hand reaching yours on the table, holding it, gently squeezing it, "What should we make for dinner tonight, Sweetie?", you ask him, "How 'bout some beef stew? Does that sound good?", you nod yes, and after a few minutes of discussing dinner, your daughter calls out to the both of you, "Done!", she shows you the picture she painted; cute, fat, round little red birds with hints of black on them, "Good job Charlie! I like the details you put.", he points at the black parts of the bird, although the shapes are quite messy, it's expected from a child. "They're so cute, Sweetheart!", you chime in, and she smiles, smiles widely, and jumps up from her chair while giggling, coming to hug the both of you.

-(divider by vase-of-lilies)!

#cod x reader #my writing #keegan p russ #cod keegan #keegan p russ x reader #keegan russ x reader #keegan russ

[moregraceful]

i dont think i sent you one yet.....jake/rusty and number 42! Just Some Guys :)

baby jake...my first love... anyway #42 is "Sun is Shining" by Axwell Ingrosso which is kind of always on the list bc it is one of my favorite songs.

Then you came my way on a winter's day Shouted loudly come out and play Can't you tell I got news for you Sun is shining and so are you

I have not been to a gay bar in umm maybe a decade lmao, but I was thinking about talahu'i saying Rusty has a Folsom mustache (lodged in my brain forever actually) so obviously we must take it in that direction. also thinking about how Jakey is so quietly and consistently good at what he does, but bc he is on a team with [gestures], he doesn't get quite as much media/fan attention? obviously not going unloved but I don't see him on the dash so much. anyway this is OBVIOUSLY a fic where Jake is on year 5 of his contract staring in the mirror going aren't you tired? don't you just want to go apeshit? about his whole entire life...like he's on year 5 of a contract! re-signing contract talks are going well! he wants to stay in Pittsburgh, he thinks! but JESUS CHRIST THE POWERPLAY. also starting to feel his age - he's 29 whole years old! all his teammates are married! some of them have kids! and he's NEVER been able to make it stick. he's had gfs but the relationships have always fizzled out.

anyway out going for a jog one evening to get his frustration out, working on a new route, runs right the FUCK into rusty coming out of a leather bar. jake does not know what a leather bar is. "bro, why are you--" he gestures at rusty in leather. rusty grimaces. the man on his arm (also in leather) does not look impressed. jake wipes his forehead with the hem of his shirt. the man on rusty's arm makes a strangled noise. jake sighs. he gets that reaction from men a lot. he's never known what to do with that but he's from the midwest so he defaults to politely not acknowledging it. "is this a sex club thing? i won't tell, but like--"

"oh he's cute?" says the man on rusty's arm. "he's so blonde. he looks like the sunshine on a cloudy day."

"I do?" says jake

"Jake--" begins Rusty.

"can we take him home?" says the man on Rusty's arm.

"He wouldn't know what to do with you," says Rusty.

"I could teach him. You could teach him. Is this that blonde thing from work you keep talking about? Because if he looks this good on the street, imagine how he'd look on my bedroom floor."

Jake blinks.

"Oh," he says. "Oh gosh."

"Well?" says the man on Rusty's arm. "what'd'ya think kid."

Jake shrugs. "Probably too gross, hah. I haven't showered yet today."

"Good," says Rusty with a deadly smile.

"We like 'em sweaty," says the man.

Jake says, "oh wow. Well, that's quite an offer. Appreciate it. You really think I'd look good on a bedroom floor? Like on my knees? Gosh. I gotta go, um, home, though. Bye. Thank you. See you tomorrow."

Runs home. Jerks off three times in the next 5 hours. Does NOT think about Rusty in a leather vest. Showers four times. Makes his favorite mac and cheese recipe for comfort. Goes to bed and has a weird formless sex dream where the details are vague but the arousal is real.

Was it his ex-girlfriends, he thinks, or was it just him.

#unfortunate birdcage fanfictions #cage replies #paintingtheice #folsom brian rust

[macverse]

What you hope you can change

---

Chris wants you back but doesn't know if he deserves you. He sees how much he's ruined everything. He wants you to be happy, but it hurts to let you go.

---

A/N: Well, I've accidentally started a mini-series. This was all supposed to be a one-shot, lol. The series started because @shipheart commented, “I wonder what the reader will do next” and then this happened.  I had a wild thought that this Chris/Reader couple could be the couple in Mi Amante and what happens in this series is what led them to start couples therapy. Some of the details are off but I like the idea that this is the back story. This series and Mi Amante are not related, it's just my headcanon within a headcanon, haha. I wrote once on something I was writing “I feel like I'm writing something much bigger than this is". I'm getting that same feeling again with these. It might be. Who knows. Special shout out to Vicky of Chris Evans fan page UK 🇬🇧 @chrisevansfanuk twitter. Since Mr. Evans had taken some time off when I started writing this, I need a secondary resource for content and research. These pages were a big help. Several 11 pm til much, much later writing well past the point of exhaustion sessions were supported by Vicky's pages. There was a very special sleepy moment where I was just blindly scrolling through your tweets cause I knew, I KNEW you had the info I needed but it was from months ago. I found it. Thank you so much.

---

“Chris?” 

I didn't mean to be here. I did come here on purpose but I didn't think it would be that easy to find her. I'd thought maybe if I saw Y/N from far away, I could make up my mind. If she seems happy, if she seems like she’s in a good place, I could turn around and walk away. I could try to move on and let her go if she was okay.

That's not how it happened. We literally almost ran right into each other. One second I was deciding to give up, thinking it was providence that I hadn't seen her and the next I was colliding with Y/N.

“What are you doing here?”, Y/N asks after we’ve both recovered. “I’m honestly not following you. I heard from a friend that they'd seen you around here,” shit that sounds like I'm stalking her. She needs to know that I didn't mean for this to happen like this. I know I don't deserve a second of her time but if I can just get a moment then maybe things can be better. I hold my hands up, my palms forward as I continue, “I just wanna talk.” Uh, stress is cruel, fame's a lie

But you're special, on every level

Success is cool, money is fine

But you're special, another level The shock of Y/N leaving LA was like getting thrown into the deep end of a pool in the middle of winter. I realized too late that I was being an idiot. I was the reason she’d been there in the first place and I ignored her. I didn’t do it on purpose. My schedule kept filling up and my free time kept disappearing. I missed her but work was work. It couldn’t be ignored.

My assistant Josh had mentioned that he was getting a feeling that Y/N wasn't having a good time or didn't have much to do. He was the one who made sure I’d get a plus one so she could accompany me to my events. He'd even put together a list of exhibits and classes that I knew that Y/N would love, places we could go, and things we could do on dates but I kept putting it off because I was busy. 

I kept thinking later, later but she left before I could get to later.

Listen

I see the men, they wanna touch ya

That's when I tell 'em, uh huh

I guess I am a jealous lover

'Cause I ain't sharin' with another lover

Stress is cruel, fame's a lie

But you're special, on every level

Success is cool, and money is fine

But you're special, another level

I was a mess after she left. I didn't have the time to be a mess but the minute there wasn't a camera in my face I would break down, the facade I kept up would crumble away and all I could feel was heartache. I muddled my way through the rest of the projects I had in LA. I can't even remember if I did work that I was happy with or not. The ache Y/N left in my chest was irrepressible. I could barely breathe sometimes. 

The hole Y/N left in my life was tangible. You don't realize how entwined someone is into the fabric of every minute of your life until it hits you in the face. 

I didn't realize how the simple touch of her hand stopped my mind from racing. I didn't realize how seeing her and my dog safely at home brought me peace.

I didn't realize how the smell of her perfume on the sheets made me feel like I was home every night.

I didn't realize how much her smile warmed me from the inside and made my heart sing in my chest.

I just didn't realize how much I loved her in my life...

Want more? Read the rest on my AO3.

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #x reader #reader insert #fan fiction #fanfiction #ff #ao3 #read on ao3 #ao3 author #valentines day #breakup #i'm so sorry #but #just hold on #spoilers #winks #song fic #justin timberlake #higher higher #men of the woods #MOTW #EITIW #writing #writers on tumblr #writers community #what you... series #part 3 of 4

[chelsea-xxx2003]

Chapter 7

Aaron POV

Did I mention the I'm acting like a complete fool. Not once have I ever frozen over like this. I force myself to answer her question.

"I'm doing good."

"That's good."

The next thing that comes out of my mouth is out my control. I wasn't thinking at all. It's like brain went into auto pilot.

"I missed you."

She gives her sweet smile.

"I missed you too."

She then goes from looking at me to behind me.

"Oh my goodness, is that MILES?"

And with that her attention shifts to Miles. I turn to them.

"Oh jeez, you have grown so much. Look at you, you're a young man now. How are doin?"

"I'm doing good actually. It's nice to see you again but how is work?"

"Ugh so busy but not anymore. I have decided to move back here in New York. I can still work here. Travelling is fun but exhausting."

Did I hear that correctly. She's moving back. Yeah, but for how long. It's like I'm intellectually linked with my nephew right now because he asks her the question I've been thinking.

"For how long?"

"Oh for good. I missed everyone here."

"Maya, have you eaten? I know you had a long flight and plane food is tasteless." Rio drags Maya to the tables filled with food and serves her a plate.

"Yooo uncle Aaron, what happened man? I thought you were gonna put your rizz game on. She had you stuttering." Miles laughs at me.

"Man hush."

People continue as they were, dancing and eating. Maya and Rio are talking their girl talk. Jeff is still barbecuing and Miles had probably ran off to his room with his other cousins.

"So Maya, what are the men around the world like?"

This hooks mine and Jeff attention. The whole place is on mute but their convo. I look at Jeff and he's facing that table too. We are close enough to hear their talk but not to be noticed.

"Gurl, I seen em all. Especially the rich ones. Let me tell you something. As a global estate agent I have seen all kinds of celebrities. Ive sold places to artists, actors, athletes, models, CEO's and top business people . Rappers especially. You know how they like to flaunt their money."

"Tell me."

"So, you know 50 cent right?"

"You met 50 cent? Do tell."

Are you kidding me right now? Freakin' 50 cent? For a winter in Brooklyn, it's getting pretty warm right now. I want to hear the story but not at the same time.

"Yeah, I sold him a villa in the Bahamas. I was showing him the place and he was being a flirt the whole time. He said he brought the place because a fine woman showed him around. He even asked me to be one of his video babes and act as his wifey in his music video."

I'm so close to walking out and gearing up in my suit and hunting the man down.

"Well what did you say?"

"I said nah."

"HUH WHY?"

"Because....... I told him that I already have a man. Chile you know rappers, they just wanna get in your pants."

There's a warm feeling in my heart when she says that. I relax back in my seat.

"Aww look at you. He's got you starstruck."

I can hear someone approach me from behind.

"You almost had her stollen from you by 50 cent, personally I don't think I would recover from that." Jeff says.

"Don't try it man."

Maya's loyalty to me was beyond my mind. I mean I would do the same by probably rejecting Beyoncé or something. She's amazing and talented and all but she just wasn't Maya. I honesty don't see what she sees in me.

The day seems to come to an end with people going home and the sun disappearing with them. The rooftop is illuminated with fairy light and many light bulbs. From where I am sitting I can see Maya yawn. Jet-lag must be catching up for her.

"I didn't see you come with any luggage. Just your handbag."

"Oh yeah about that, my stuff is in another state. The baggage handlers put everyones luggage in the wrong plane. I'll probably get it delivered tomorrow or the day after. It's really annoying, I had some presents for people."

"Are you kidding me, you making it for Christmas is a present its self especially for a certain someone."

Maybe I should stop eavesdropping on Maya and Rio's conversation.

"How could I not, after you told me about Miles and Aaron talking about me, I had to come back." She turns around her seat to look at me and wink. I swear Miles has a big mouth sometimes but at least it made her come over.

Now it’s dark and some people have left. Meanwhile Maya and Rio were in the kitchen finishing up some dishes.

"Ok, we are finished. There was a lot of stuff to wash. I guess this goodnight."

"What? Already? But it's only......1:30am."

"Exactly Rio, it's late. I'm sure Miles has passed out in his room." Jeff announces.

Speak of the devil, Miles shows up from his room. He deffo looked like he took a nap cuz he has drool and pillow marking on the side of his face.

"Are you leaving already?"

"Oh Miles don't make me laugh. It's late. I'll see you again soon ok. You can visit anytime too. You know where I’ll be. Come here give me a hug."

He walks up to her and hugs her and she returns the hug but tighter. Call me crazy but I swear he just turned his head to give me a sly smirk. This kid knows exactly what he's doing. Lucky for me I will have her to myself.

"Ok we gotta get going. I'm sure Maya could also pass out at any moment."

"Thanks for coming over Maya, it's been a while and it was nice to catch up." Jeff says.

Rio and Miles escort us to the door after Maya put on he her jacket and took her bag.

"Thanks for the invite to this Christmas party. See you soon and take care. Bye"

And with that it's finally just me and her. We walk in the nearly empty streets of Brooklyn to our place. The air is freezing to the touch and can see that she's shivering. Without a thought I wrap my arm around her and bring her closer to me.

"Your warm. I probably won't let go."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"You know I know Miles was tryna piss you off with the hug earlier. I could tell you were slightly irritated but brushed off."

"I may have told him about how you gave him all of your attention when he was a baby and how it almost made me jealous."

"You being jealous of a kid now and then is so petty. Well I'm here now."

"Yeah and you're mine. I really don't like sharing."

She stops in front of me and makes me stop. She looks up.

"Jealousy looks funny on you."

"I think it's only acceptable if it's for you."

She gives that smile again. I give her a smirk back. This makes her bite her lip and look away. Before she changes the subject, I place both my hands to each side of her side to make her look at me again. Her big brown eyes twinkle with the Christmas lights around us. Her nose and cheeks a light shade of pink from the cold.

I leaned over and both of our lips connect. It's a passionate and love filled kiss. She's stiff at the beginning because it was unexpected but she quickly relaxes into it. She lifts her arms to hold on to me as I move my hands to her waist. I lift her until her feet are off the ground for two seconds and then I put her down. We break apart from the kiss. She looks dazed and as do I.

"I was waiting to do that for so long."

She laughs and I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder. She's squealing as she hold on. We both continue until we get home. I scan the key and the door opens. We climb up the stairs. We reach the door but that's when I remember a slight flaw.

"The place is kinda not clean. I mean I didn't know you were coming. J-just wait here."

I speed walk in and do what I can. Remove pizza and Chinese takeaway boxes. Pick up a few boxers and socks. Especially hide the gadgets in a box. I was working on my suit and left it out. That needs to go. I do a mental checklist as I go back to open the door, where she's standing.

"Ron, I'm sure it's not too bad. Nothing I can't clean up."

She trots in like she wasn't away for eight years. She looks around the place and my heart start to pick up.

"Oh my God."

Oh God help me.

"You have a new car?"

Huh? What car? She jiggle some keys in my face. Oh.

"Not a car but a motorcycle."

Her eyes widen and they have a twinkle in them.

"Wha- since when?"

"Since you left. I gave away that old car."

She looks around some more. I did get the motorcycle some time after she left. It was easier for me to travel to my missions.

She takes off her jacket and hangs with my other ones. Some thing catches her eyes and I follow where she's looking.

"Oh damn. I didn't know you where into swords and stuff. It looks real."

She goes to touch it but they are very much real and very much sharp.

"Wait! Ummm did you see my punching bag."

She turns to the side and focuses on that. She starts giving it punches and kicks.

"Since when where you into boxing?"

"I used to do underground boxing remember. But now I just do it to keep in shape."

“Oh right. Almost forgot you used to fight.”

She does she eyebrow thing showing that she's impressed.

"It's like I'm getting to know you from beginning again or I'm finding out about this new side of you. Do you still do graffiti?"

"At my big age? Nah"

A/N - Yep kinda went over board with this one. Being a Christmas chapter and all. I aspire to write this much or more in the upcoming chapters. The starts ones were a bit shorter. I kinda end the chapter when I run out of ideas.

#aaron davis x oc #into the spider verse #miles morales #aaron davis #spider verse #spiderman #uncle aaron

[jacksothereye]

OC Interview Questions

So @kemendin​  tagged me for this and I’m doin’ it. Real talk I don’t know lot of tumblr people but I’m taggin’ @biiigwinged and @chibikinesis and @a-pirate and @yourblues and @smilepal and @some27-url just because I like lookin at your blogs/characters. Feel free to tag me back if you wind up doin’ it!  I was torn on whether to go Cyberpunk or Fallout for this but Bastard Classic won out so here we go!

----

Name?  Muds. Yes. Really. 

Are you single?  And happy for it. Something something that song ain’t so very far from wrong or however it goes. 

Are you happy?  I have my moments. 

Are you angry? Every damn day. 

Are your parents still married? Sorry, I don’t believe in parents.  

=NINE FACTS=

Birth place? Boston. Technically. I guess. 

Hair color? Uh. Dark. 

Eye color? Also dark. Look it’s not like I lie awake staring into them lovingly or anything. 

Birthday? Why, you gonna buy me a drink?

Mood? Gently violent. You know. Just. Gently. Softly. Benignly violent. Sit back down, you’re fine. 

Gender? Shit which one do you mean by that? It’s the one where I have a dick and I’m totally good with it. 

Summer or winter? If I gotta hide a body? Summer. If I gotta do anything else… eh, fuck it, also Summer. I like the heat. 

Morning or afternoon? *Are* we talkin’ about hiding bodies? I feel like we’re not talkin’ about hiding bodies. Because if we’re hiding bodies, really you wanna do that shit at *night*, or at least early early morning, but - that wasn’t the question. What was the question? I’m takin’ the fifth. 

=EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE=

Are you in love? Don’t be stupid.

Do you believe in love at first sight? I believe in bad decisions. 

Who ended your last relationship? God. He said it was personal. 

Have you ever broken someone’s heart? I mean it’s on them if they were that invested. 

Are you afraid of commitments? Afraid? No. Avoidant? ...Sure. 

Have you hugged someone within the last week? Oooooh pfshhhh nnnnooo. Actually I just hit 1,000 days hug free and I’m really trying to stay on the wagon this time. 

Have you ever had a secret admirer? Maybe, but the problem is I tend to shoot first and ask questions later.

Have you ever broken your own heart? I mean it’s on me if I was that invested. 

=SIX CHOICES=

Love or lust? Oh, well Lust is one of those big sins - you can’t really beat out on that. 

Lemonade or iced tea? Mix em together for science. 

Cats or dogs? Both useless. Unless it’s my dog. My dog’s better than those other dogs. 

A few best friends or many regular friends?  Many, many unapologetic criminals. 

Wild night out or romantic night in? Darlin’ if it ain’t wild either way what’s even the point?  

Day or night?  Depends on what I’m doin’ - don’t make me bring up the body thing again. 

=FOUR HAVE YOU EVERS=

Been caught sneaking out? Four. Times. And let me tell you how much that cost me. 

Fallen down/up the stairs? Definitely up, that’s how you know the Daytripper’s workin’. 

Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? Does ‘wanting something so badly I hurt someone’ count? 

Wanted to disappear? Please, if I’m doing my job right, you’ll never see me comin’ to begin with. 

=FOUR PREFERENCES=

Smile or eyes? Oh always the eyes, that’s the big tell - people who can’t lie for shit? Look at their eyes. It’ll give it away every time. 

Shorter or taller?  Short of a super mutant I don’t see anyone bein’ taller than me. Hold it, what are we even talking about here?

Intelligence or attraction? Well, nine times outta ten being attractive isn’t gonna save your ass so I’d rather whoever this is not be an idiot. 

Hook-up or relationship? Whichever one doesn’t get me shot the next morning.  

=FAMILY=

Do you and your family get along? Sure but I think it helps that we do a lot of drinking and none of us are related.

Would you say you have a “messed up life”? No I’d say it’s pretty standard fuckin’ fare for the Commonwealth. 

Have you ever run away from home? Ohhh - ohohoh yeah. Yeah. Trust me. I’m the fuckin’ *best* at runnin’ away from home. 

Have you ever gotten kicked out? I kicked myself out, it was better that way. 

=FRIENDS=

Do you secretly hate one of your friends? I mean I hate all of them a little bit. I actually hate *everyone* a little bit. I feel like if I didn’t that’d probably be a sign that there’s something wrong with them. 

Do you consider all of your friends good friends?  No I consider all of them right bastards. 

Who is your best friend?  The rightest bastard of them all. See, he was like, best-friend-orphaned back in the day, so I adopted him as my best friend, cleaned him up, made him less sad and pathetic. It took a *lottttta* work teaching him how to re-socialize, but I think we’re makin’ real progress. I can almost go out in public with him and everything. 

Who knows everything about you? Fella. if I thought anyone was even gettin’ close, they’d be dead. That in mind, I’d watch how many more questions you ask. 

#fallout 4 #fallout ocs #oc memes #character questions #I remember this original interview meme circulating around from my WoW days #I think Muds answered it back then too #And now I feel old! #Fallout:Muds

[killemwithkawaii]

L.S.S.: Alright, you ready for the next round of asks? 

Mitch(3): Uh, no? This is stupid. I don’t know why you keep wanting me ta talk to your ‘friends’....

L.S.S.: Because in another life, they’re your friends, and I’m hoping they’ll help me get through to you since you won’t listen to me. 

Mitch(3): …. Fine, whatever. I’ll answer some if it’ll get you to shut up and stop hassling me for a minute…

L.S.S.: … It’s alright, Meadow. I had a hard time saying goodbye to him, too…

Mitch(3): Ugh, you talkin’ about your exes again?

L.S.S.: I’m talking about you in the timeline I found you in before this one. He was loyal, hard-working, and nice to everybody… he cared about people. He’s my proof that you’re not really this much of a dick. Or, at least you wouldn't be, if you’d put in a little effort to be nice and let people in.

Mitch(3): … Pssh, he sounds like a little bitch to me…

L.S.S.: …Well, you’re not wrong…. but still.

Mitch(3): ....

Mitch(3): Hey, now we’re talkin! Maybe I misjudged you… Bring over whatever ya got, ‘friend’! We miiiight still have to go on a run here soon, though. Whatever booze she brings ain’t gonna last long, and we are runnin low… [barely audible] I should probably grab some cat food too. Little bastards have to be getting hungry by now...

L.S.S.: Yeah, we’re not doing that. 

Mitch(3): Huh? Tsk, fine, I’ll just go by myself…

L.S.S.: Uh, I mean- let’s, uh, do that later, maybe? Why go out when we can get it delivered…!

Mitch(3): ...Yeahhh, can’t argue with that. Going into town during the day sucks, anyway…

Mitch(3): …..

L.S.S.: …Um… I get where you’re coming from, Danu, but that’s not-

Mitch(3): Tch, I don’t need to take this shit... You don’t like me? Good. You don’t have to fuckin’ talk to me. I don’t give a shit. Same goes for you, Sal. If you don't like me, and ya wanna leave sooo bad, then just fuckin’ leave. Nobody’s stopping you.

L.S.S.: …. 

I’m not leaving, Mitchie. Don’t worry…

Mitch(3): ….. [grumbling]....

L.S.S.: Score! I am freezing…

Mitch(3): …..You weren’t complaining before… 

L.S.S.: That was when I didn’t have anything else to put on, and I was overheated, anyway... Don’t get me wrong, the stuff you gave me is fun to wear sometimes, but it’s not really practical in winter when you're sober.

Mitch(3): …You could put on your own damn clothes if you went home already…

L.S.S.: Like I said, I’m not leaving. These will be fine, and if I’m still cold, you and I can just get snuggly to warm up.

Mitch(3): ….get ’snuggly,’...?

L.S.S.: Well, yeah! We don’t always have to be having sex when we’re together, you know. We can just cuddle sometimes….. I think it would be nice, if you wanna give it a try…?

Mitch(3): ……. 

Wh…….

…No. No, just… get off me. Go cuddle your friends, if you like em so much…

L.S.S.: ….okay… maybe later then…

L.S.S.: …..

Mitch(3): Ooooh, so your buddies don’t know about you and your bro? [laughing] Why don’t ya tell em why he hasn’t been comin around lately, huh...?

L.S.S.: … Because I told him not to. 

Mitch(3): [laughing] You guys should have seen it… little Sally-cat is ice cold- ‘You’re not my brother and you never have been~! I have no family, leave me alone, why can’t I just have fun for once~?’ [laughing] His face… oh man… [laughing]

L.S.S.: … I…. wasn’t in a good place the last time I was here. I was frustrated and detached… I’d been looking for the ‘original’ Larry for so long- That was my entire motivation for being out here in the first place. I’d been through so much shit already, and seeing his other versions… it was starting to get to me. The Larry from this timeline tried to talk some sense into me when he found out what I was doing, and I lashed out at him….

It was wrong of me to say those things. It wasn’t true- even if he wasn’t the ‘original,’ he was still Larry… I understand that now, and I regret how I treated him. I really wish I could tell him I’m sorry… 

Mitch(3): …The-

L.S.S.: Yeah, yeah, ‘the door’s right there,’ I’m aware… 

Mitch(3): ….

L.S.S.: Well, I bared my soul, so I guess it’s your turn...

Mitch(3): ……. 

L.S.S.: What? You don’t want to tell them an embarrassing story about doing something you regret when you were feeling frustrated and detached…?

Mitch(3): ……. Fuck that. I don’t gotta say shit.

L.S.S.: …. Alright, I guess I’ll tell the story for you, too:

He tattooed ‘DNR’ on his chest with a sewing needle and ballpoint pen ink during a bender. Did it in the bathroom mirror. It’s crooked as hell, but at least it’s not backwards…

Mitch(3): …..

….

….

You little…. fuckin’….

….

Okay. Okay, that’s it- 

L.S.S.: Wait, what are you-

Mitch(3): I’m sick of this shit. Get out. 

L.S.S.: No, hold on a second, we can’t- I mean, I’m not-

Mitch(3): GET OUT. If you don’t want to be here, then just leave! 

L.S.S.: That’s not what I was... I'm sorry. That was uncalled for, I shouldn't have-

Mitch(3): I don’t care anymore. I don’t want you here. Just go home already….

L.S.S.: I can’t-

Mitch(3): THAT’S NOT MY PROBLEM. YOU’RE NOT MY PROBLEM. GET OUT.

L.S.S.: …I told you I’m not leaving, Mitch. I can’t-

Mitch(3): And I told you to GET. OUT. Here, I’ll help you to the door-

L.S.S.: Wait… wait, stop! STOP! LET GO-

Mitch(3): I AM-

L.S.S.: STOP IT!! SHIT, SHIT, SHIT… MITCH, STOP, YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND- NO! FUCK, FUCK, NO, NOT AGAIN—

#the staycation 🏡💙 #l.s.s. answers #dealer!mitch #danu chan #meadow chan #tw drug use #tw self harm #tw unreality #tw abuse #tw degradation #tw objectification #tw mental illness #tw violence #tw needles #meet the fishers

[yyumemika]

Ougonten: Registry of Dragons Part Two

Registry of Dragons: Part Two 

Winter

(The next day) 

Mika: Haa… It’s real cold. Even just bein’ out in the hallway makes ma skin feel like it’s hurtin’.

Ritsu: Mikarin, welcome back~  It’s still cold, isn't it? That’s why we should spend all day lazing around under the kotatsu. 

Here, get under quickly. Aren’t you cold? 

Mika: I can’t! If I fall under the spell of the kotatsu now I won't be able to do anythin’ as it is. 

This is a precious day off, so I gotta pull myself together an’ do some art’s n’ crafts or I won’t be able to face Teach as his equal. 

Ritsu: You say that, but you’re not good with the cold are you? If you don’t warm up, your body will break down, rather I think it’ll affect your ability to work~ 

Here, make an exception and get snuggly under the kotatsu while drinking some warm tea~ ♪

Mika: Uh, maybe just a lil’ bit… But, I know just a lil’ is gonna sap my life force. 

But… It’s so cold! If it really is only 5 minutes– 

Mitsuru: Hmm. Mikanii-chan under the spell of the kotatsu? It looks like he can’t resist it. 

Mika: Uwah!? Why’s Mitsuru-kun underneath the kotatsu!? 

Mitsuru: Wawah!? Mikanii-chan found me! I better dash outta here~! 

Mika: So fast!? What in tarnation…?* 

Ritsu: He came in while you were out. I wonder if he wanted to go under the kotatsu together. 

But, he ran from the clutches of the kotatsu so quickly… It’s quite the effort~

Mika: He just wanted t’ get under the kotatsu? Is that all? I had the feelin’ he wanted t’ talk to me or somethin’... 

(Another day) 

Mika: I get real emotional when I think about how I ain’t gonna be able t’ work in the club room fer much longer… 

Maybe I should try thinkin’ up a design with the theme of graduation or early spring or somethin’? Well, I guess I shouldn’t have taken my sketchbook home just yet… 

Mitsuru: Stare~...

Mika: I get the feelin’ someone’s starin’ at me from the entrance!? Who’s there! 

Mitsuru: (Gasp)...!? 

Mika: Ah, they ran away! 

Mitsuru: Dash dash! Mikanii-chan’s working hard on his design again today~! 

Mika: Ah, I ain’t able to see ‘em properly anymore. But, wasn’t that Mitsuru-kun’s voice just now? 

I get the feelin’ Mitsuru-kun’s been hangin’ round me a lot lately. What’s he up to…? 

(Yet another day) 

Mika: (I came t’ buy some more art supplies but…) 

Mitsuru: (Tiny voice) …I’m starting an investigation so Mikanii-chan doesn’t find me.

Hmm. Looks like he's on a trip today. Is he going to hang out somewhere? 

But hanging out alone is boring. Maybe just the usual shopping…? 

I’m curious either way! Looks like I’ll get all the good info on Mikanii-chan upfront♪

Mika: (Uh… It’s Mitsuru-kun after all. Why’s he chasin’ after me?) 

(I can’t calm down not knowin’ how long he's gonna chase after me for. Alright, if that’s the way it’s gonna be, I’ll ambush him round that corner… ) 

Mitsuru: Ah, I lost sight of him! I gotta hurry after– 

Mika: Mitsuru-kun! Caught ya! 

Mitsuru: Uwah!? Mikanii-chan ambushed me!? 

Mika: I noticed that ya were chasin’ after me. But, why’re ya doin’ it? 

Mitsuru: Th-That’s… 

I-Is that Oshisan-senpai over there! 

Mika: Eh!? What’s Oshisan doin’ here!? He didn’t say he was comin’ back…! 

Huh? I don’t see Oshian anywhere… 

Mitsuru: Sorry, Mikanii-chan! I’m gonna run away now, babyu~n☆

Mika: Ah, I got hoodwinked! I won’t let ya escape, he’s made it that far already…!? 

Ya wouldn’t expect any less from the track and field club… I don’t got the energy t’ chase after that… 

Mika: (In the end, Mitsuru-kun ran away, and I still don’t get the reason why he was chasin’ me around) 

(It seems like I’ve been bein’ watched by Mitsuru-kun this whole time, I can’t even get enthusiastic about arts n’ crafts…) 

Anyway, I’ll calm down if I have some tea… 

Haa, really. If I could just apologise to Mitsuru-kun fer whatever it is I’ve done.

Nagisa: …You look really troubled, Mika-kun. If you have any troubles I’ll hear you out. 

Mika: Nnah!? Ran-senpai, don’t speak so suddenly! Ya scared me. 

Nagisa: …Sorry. I’ve been in this room since earlier, but you didn’t notice. 

Mika: I didn’t? I’m sorry fer gettin’ in the way while yer relaxin’.

Nagisa: …Your apology has little meaning to it. Should I just accept that you don’t want to apologise to me? 

Mika: …Uh, pardon. Since yer a former member of “fine” I think I put maself on guard reflexively. 

Even though I understand that Ran-senpai had good intentions when ya said ya’d listen t’ ma troubles earlier… 

Nagisa: … The past where I hurt you will not change. It’s natural that Mika-kun wouldn’t take my hand so readily. 

…This is just me being meddlesome. You’re free to refuse or take my hand. Don’t worry. 

…Judging by Mika-kun’s monologue earlier, it seems Tenma-kun is also involved in your troubles. Perhaps we should hear his side of the story too. 

Mika: Eh, wait a sec! Are ya sayin’ we’re gonna talk to Mitsuru-kun right now? 

Nagisa: … I get along well with Tenma-kun. When he’s in trouble, I want to help him out. 

Mika: Nnah~ When ya put it that way, it’s real hard t’ say no. But I don’t want ya t’ do anythin’ unnecessary… 

Haa… This time I’ll ask him upfront. I wanna hear it from Mitsuru-kun too. 

The truth is, recently it’s botherin’ me that Mitsuru-kun’s been followin’ me around. 

As soon as I try askin’ him why, he runs away, I dunno what else to do. 

Nagisa: …Hmm. Even if we try to guess the reason behind his behaviour, we don’t have enough information so I can’t come up with an answer. 

…It would be faster to ask Tenma-kun directly. He should be in the book room now. 

Mika: Really? It’s kinda surprising fer Mitsuru-kun to be in the book room? 

Nagisa: …It looked like he was writing. If you want to corner him while he can’t escape, now is probably a good time. 

Mika: Corner him? Yer way of talkin’ is unsettlin’... 

*(T/N i know most jp speakers don’t like translating kansai dialect this way but mika speaking like a bumpkin really tickles me so i’m gonna keep doing it~)

#ensemble stars #enstars #mika kagehira #mitsuru tenma #ritsu sakuma #nagisa ran

[divine-mistake]

it's messy inside, let me take your coat

Summary: “I can make you a drink,” you offer, leaning against the doorframe to your bedroom with your arms crossed over your chest, staring at him, “or I can come over there and you can kiss me drunk instead, ‘cause I’m already halfway there.”

Characters: Bucky Barnes/Plus-sized (f)Reader

Warnings: 18+ (mentions of smut, female nudity), strong language, alcohol consumption, copious amounts of fluff, soft and nervous Bucky Barnes, original female character friends, one-night stand, body insecurity, anxiety

Word Count: 8723

A/N: This story was written for @eurynome827 and her 2k follower challenge with the prompt "Mimosas and Bloody Marys at brunch." Thank you for hosting and congrats again on your milestone!

main masterlist | AO3

“Cheers!”

The flutes clink together, orange juice sloshing and spilling and dripping down the glasses and onto the table as your giggles fade into the background noise of the café’s patio. You tip your head back as you drink, mimosas bubbly in your throat like your own happiness, threatening to pour out of you and dribble onto your shirt, already tipsy.

“God,” Carissa says, throwing herself back into the metal chair, “I cannot wait to have his babies.”

Beside her, Kora claps. “I can’t wait to be an aunt! I’m going to spoil them all so rotten you’re going to want to throttle me by the end of it.”

“Spoil them all you want, I’m having eight of ‘em.”

At that, you go ahead and polish off your drink, carbonation stinging your throat, and while you set the empty glass down your hand goes up in the air, signaling the waiter for another.

Sara points at you. “I’m with her.” She makes a face at Carissa. “If you have eight kids I will make like your dad and bounce.”

Kora slaps her on the knee but the four of you descend into laughter anyway, and it’s easy and light and beautiful, like always. Washington D.C. can be pretty in this way—iron-wrought fencing and fancy metal tables and red patio tiling. Good food, better mimosas, best friends. There’s a breeze in the air that’s calling for autumn, scattering cloth napkins sitting in laps and spreading the scent of fresh baked bread.

The bags at your feet carrying your new shoes for the winter wedding that’s approaching rustle. That feeling isn’t just D.C. It’s excitement and love and adoration, too.

Carissa, bride to be, catches you in her gaze. “When are you going to finally settle down, huh?” She gestures across the table at you with her half-filled mimosa. Everyone else looks at you too, waiting for your response.

You shrug. “You’re having plenty of babies, I don’t need any.”

“I don’t mean babies,” she says. “I mean a human, a connection, something that isn’t an empty apartment.”

“You need—no, you deserve—someone to take care of you!” Kora adds. “You’re always taking care of everyone. Don’t you want someone to, y’know, take care of you?”

“I have plenty of vibrators in my empty apartment.”

Sara snorts, covering her mouth. The waiter delivers another round, thank god.

“What do you want me to say?” you ask, sighing. “You’re just bothering me ‘cause it’s wedding season and you want to set me up with your weird—”

“He’s not weird,” Carissa interrupts. “He’s tall and he’s mysterious which is exactly your type.”

“She’ll find someone when the time is right,” Sara says. “Just ‘cause we’re happy with our boyfriends doesn’t mean she needs one to be happy.”

“Thank you, Sara, my one-true-best-friend-in-the-whole-wide-world.” You force your glass against hers in a loud clank, turning the heads of all the patrons on the café’s patio before taking a gulp. Your face is already getting a little hot, the alcohol hitting you. This is why you aren’t allowed to pregame before you go to brunch anymore.

“We’re not trying to force you,” Kora starts, but her mouth is pulled into a concerned frown. “We really do just want you to be as happy as we are, that’s all.”

You smile at her. “I know.”

And you do know. You understand. It’s been years now since you’ve had anything real—anything worthwhile, to be specific. At some point, the relationships slowed down. Boyfriends became friends with benefits when you were working on your masters. Friends with benefits became ignored booty calls at two in the morning when you started your dissertation, on the road to get your doctorate. Now, you’re lucky to go home with someone from the bar, and they never, ever, come home with you.

It’s okay. You aren’t lonely. The right person just hasn’t landed in your lap, and maybe that’s kind of because it’s not open, but it’s just ‘cause you’re busy. You’re busy. Passionate. Need to change the world.

Love can wait.

The next mimosa is finished and you’re feeling a little fuzzy.

“I’m happy for you,” you tell Carissa. “I’m happy for all of you, and I’m happy with my life, and I’m happy that we’re all together and we’re celebrating and I’m happy that you all care about me enough to worry but I’m perfectly fine with how things are.”

Carissa smiles, but it’s got too much teeth. “I could set you up with Kie—”

“No, no setting me up with Kieran or Harry or Josh or anyone. But especially not Kieran.”

You’d already fucked him once and it wasn’t worth the experience.

“Fine! Fine.” Carissa busies herself with her drink. “No setting you up with Kieran.”

“Good. Now let’s talk about the reception!” You pull out your phone and open the planning spreadsheet, smiling. “So I called the venue for you about the tables…”

This is easier. Planning Carissa’s wedding, helping support her, being excited for her—that’s easier than talking about your love life. If anything, this is your love life. Taking care of the people you love, your best friends, having fun and being together and romanticizing the time you spend with them. It’s not just mimosas over brunch and a green spreadsheet for wedding planning. With them, it’s the wind in your hair and the sun making your eyes sparkle and the alcohol making all your insides feel effervescent.

It’s love. It’s perfection. It’s your own brand of happiness.

And sure, maybe it’s a little defensive, but this is easier than loving someone and trying to make them love you. It’s easier.

“Whose dress are we still waiting on?” Carissa asks a little later, mouth full of avocado and bacon and looking very un-bridely.

“Mine,” Kora says, a little guiltily. “It’s at the tailor getting taken in—again.”

“I have mine,” you pipe up, wiping your mouth of jam. “And god, do I look like a full course Michelin star meal in that piece. Like, we’re talking ass for days, legs for days, tits for—”

“Excuse me, ma’am, excuse me.” A man, towering over the café table makes himself known, dressed in dark clothes and wearing a look on his visage that you can’t name.

“—days,” you finish, swallowing hard.

“Excuse me, I don’t mean to interrupt,” he says with a smile, “but I’m raising money for uh, breast cancer awareness, and I was hoping you would donate and sign up for uh, a marathon we’re doing.”

You blink. “Sorry,” you tell him, “but we don’t carry cash on us.” With a small smile, you nod at him, your eyes passing over your friends and looking around the café to see if any of the other patrons have noticed what’s going on. None of them look bothered.

“Not even for breast cancer awareness? C’mon, girl.”

“We don’t carry cash,” Sara repeats with a deadpan, but her eyes don’t meet his.

He doesn’t look at her either, content to stare at you, and your skin crawls.

“What about signing up for the marathon?”

“Fine,” you snap. Anything to get him to leave you all alone. “How do I sign up?”

“You give me your phone number and I’ll text you the details.” His grin is a little wider now, edging a little closer to where you sit at the table. You’re regretting that third mimosa. You aren’t on your game. The panic running through you is covered in a champagne haze.

You scoff. “No way.” Immediately you grab your purse, digging through it, and you slam a handful of loose change onto the table in front of him. “Here—a donation. Now please leave.”

His face twists into a scowl, but he scoops the money off the table and pockets it.

“You don’t have to be such a bitch,” he suddenly says, and anger courses through you until you shoot up from your seat, chair skidding behind you. He’s tall—much taller than your short stature. But, fuck it, the alcohol’s dimming the fear and fueling the need for you to protect your friends.

When you glance over, Carissa is already gathering the bags, eyes wide. Kora has her arms wrapped around her middle, trying to make herself smaller, ready to run. Sara’s phone is in her hand, 9-1-1 already dialed.

And still, no one in the café is doing a goddamn thing.

“Excuse me?” You glare up at the man.

“I just wanted your number, you fat bitch.” He sneers. “No wonder you’ve got an attitude, you obviously don’t get laid.”

Really, you can sit there and say it isn’t the fat comment. It’s not the insult. You’re used to that, with your overly-generous curves and your soft jawline and the fact that you’re wearing a skirt showing off the cellulite running through your thighs like a creek and a crop top that lets everyone peek at your stretch marks. You’re used to it.

And, really, you could handle this better. You certainly have before ‘cause this isn’t the first time you’ve been hustled or the first time some creep has hit on you. Old men have been slapping your ass in public since you were sixteen. You’re hot, you get it. If you saw yourself on the street you’d want a piece of your own goddamn ass, too. It comes with the territory, but it’s gross. And it’s sad but you’re used to it. So it’s not him calling you a fat bitch.

It’s the comment about getting laid. It’s sore as fuck.

You grab your would-be fourth mimosa and drench him in it, the glass slipping from your fingers and shattering upon the patio’s tiled floor in an instant.

“Slut!” The man lunges for you and you jump away, bumping into the table and losing your footing. You fall to the ground as glass comes crashing down around you, spilling sweet-smelling alcohol all over you. Ouch. Your friends scream, but you can’t take your eyes off him.

And then a gleam of black and gold blurs past you and grabs the creep by his neck, throwing him down. Now, a tall, wide body dressed in a dark hoodie is blocking you, guarding you, sheltering you.

“Try it,” Mystery Savior says.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” Carissa chants, calling your name.

Your hand is sticky when you wave her away. “Get out of here, I’m fine. Just go. I’ll meet you—meet you at Kora’s.”

“We’re not leaving you!” Sara shouts, but something, maybe adrenaline or fear or fucking champagne, is running through your blood vessels at high speed.

“Just go!” you scream back at her. “I’m not fucking kidding, go!”

Because if there is one redeemable thing about you, it’s the length you’ll go to keep the people you love safe. And Mystery Savior might have just choked a creep out for you, but he also choked a creep out for you, and that’s enough to get your heart pounding in your ears. You don’t know who the good guy is—if there even is a good guy here.

“Fuck,” the creep curses, but it comes out raspy as he grasps at his quickly bruising neck. “You’re a—” he wheezes, “—you’re a murderer!”

Mystery Savior holds up his hands, and that’s when you see it. The black and gold of a vibranium arm just peeking out of the sleeve of his hoodie.

This isn’t a murderer. Not a Mystery Savior either. This is James Bucky Barnes, the Avenger, holy shit. Definitely good guy. Probably. He’s reformed, the news talks about it.

“Caught me,” he says, voice monotone. “What are you gonna do about it?”

If you weren’t currently sprawled on the ground, covered in mimosa, and panicking wildly about whatever is unfolding right in front of you, the very buzzed part of your brain would really appreciate the smoothness of Bucky’s voice when he said that, the cool, calm, collected delivery.

You’ll file it in the back of your mind for when you go back to your empty apartment.

“That fat ass ain’t worth it,” the creep chokes out, scrambling to get up. As soon as he’s on his feet, poised to take off, Bucky moves faster than you could have imagined and grabs the guy by his shirt.

“I don’t think so, buddy.” You can’t see his face, but you think Bucky might be smiling.

A portly man, a little shorter than Bucky, pushes through the gathering crowd, eyes wide and panicked, face red, already sweating. When you glance at his golden nametag, it reads: Jason, Manager. Cool that the manager showed up this late. If Bucky hadn’t stepped in, you’d probably be in a pile of limbs on the ground by now. Also—is he going to comp your bill? ‘Cause at this point, you’re starting to think you deserve it.

Okay, not a good time to be distracted.

“Thank you for getting him, sir,” the manager says, a little breathless. “Winter Soldier, sir.”

“It’s Bucky,” he says, and then he shoves the creep toward the manager. “Not sure why you didn’t step in before he got violent.”

Exactly! Why did everyone just stand around and do nothing as some six-foot man hustled the four women sitting beside the street? You glance around again, seeing your friends have disappeared and now, both the wait staff and other café patrons, are crowded around your table. It’s a little unsettling how no one cared to even look at you until everything escalated.

As the manager grabs the creep and hauls him off toward the street to wait for the cops, Bucky Barnes relaxes his shoulders and turns toward you slowly, and it’s—well, for lack of a better word—it’s beautiful. He’s beautiful.

He looks nothing like the superhero in the pictures. Here, with the D.C. sun hitting him unabashedly, his slate eyes like glass marbles, the lines surrounding them wrinkled in concern, his tongue darting between his lips to wet the skin where his teeth bite down, a habitual sore, his short locks ruffled by the breeze or maybe the fight or maybe he just wakes up perfectly rumpled, here he looks like a man.

“You okay?” he asks, somehow nonchalant and still worried, and he holds out a calloused hand to you.

Or, well, maybe Bucky had been watching. And maybe that’s enough.

God, you don’t even know this man outside of his Avenger persona, the headlines you read on the news, the pictures you see on social media, but there’s just something about him that makes you want to trust him. Like he guarantees safety, and you know that no one, least of all an Avenger, can guarantee safety. Even if that’s their job.

Stop feeling safe around him.

But you take his hand anyway, his long, thick fingers folding over your own like he means to swallow them, and Bucky pulls you up as though you weigh nothing. In fact, he does it so easily that you crash straight into him with a yelp and his arms instantly slide around your waist to catch you as your knees go weak, buckling beneath you.

When you look up at him, your hands trying to find purchase in the material of his hoodie, he’s staring down at you with the hint of a smile.

“Thanks,” you say, quiet and a little stunned.

His lips crack a little wider. “No problem.”

For a few seconds longer than deemed socially appropriate, you stare at Bucky, captured by the changing color of his blue-gray eyes. And then, as if god is slapping you on the back of your head, you blink and remember that you are covered in alcohol and currently pressed against the chest of a superhero, and your eyes go wide as you quickly push away from him.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” you tell him. “I’m disgusting—you probably have orange juice all over you now, fuck.”

“Hey,” he says, his flesh hand wrapping around your upper arm to steady you, “it’s okay. Seriously though, are you alright?”

You open your mouth to say something and then shut it again when you realize nothing sounds like the right answer. Bucky waits patiently though, peering down at you, his grip a little more grounding than you wish it was.

“Yes?” you say, but it sounds like a question. “I mean, maybe? I’m—It’s not like I’m not used to this happening. I’ll be fine.”

Bucky frowns. “Used to it?”

You shrug. “Not all men are superheroes. Most don’t have good intentions. And I’m not even that pretty, can you imagine what other women deal with?”

It slips out before you realize it, the self-hatred you keep at bay.

“Not pretty?” Bucky’s face twists into something confused. “That guy assaulted you just to get your number. I’m not saying it’s right, but if you think you aren’t pretty, well that’s just wrong.”

Oh god, what are you supposed to say now? So stupid. If you had just kept your mouth shut, you wouldn’t have forced an Avenger—a really fucking hot Avenger—to give you an awkward compliment and now you have to scramble to figure out what to say. If you deny the compliment, you’ll look ungrateful. If you accept the compliment, that’s too egotistical. Too into yourself.

You’ve backed yourself into a corner here, and Bucky’s on the other side of the ring.

“Look,” he interrupts your inner monologuing, running a hand through his hair and glancing away, “if you don’t mind me saying it, you’re—well—you’re gorgeous. I hope you know that.”

Your mouth falls open and you stare at him, nervous energy radiating off him, and when his eyes shift back to yours he coughs.

“I mean, don’t take that the wrong way. I’m not—I’m not trying to hit on you after what just happened, I promise.” His eyes go wide, then, and he throws his hands out in front of him in a placating gesture. “That’s not to say I’m not! Not hitting on you. I mean, shit, I just think you’ve gotta be the most beautiful dame—woman, sorry—that I’ve seen in years.”

There’s something soft about it, something sweetly suffocating, like buttercream frosting in the back of your throat, about his nervousness. The gentle panic, the way his eyes go back and forth from the ground at your feet to your eyes like he’s checking to make sure he hasn’t said the wrong thing, but he just keeps putting his foot in his mouth like it’s a magnet to metal. It’s endearing. It’s real.

“Do you want to get a drink with me?” you blurt out, and Bucky blanches. “I know it’s only, like, noon but I need a drink. And I owe you. For saving me.”

He relaxes at this, another one of those small smiles easing its way onto his face, and his shoves his hands into his pockets like he wasn’t just panicking two seconds ago about calling you a dame, which if anyone else had done, you would have socked them in the mouth, but he’s like one-hundred-and-six or something and you kinda get it.

“The drinks you’re wearing ain’t enough, doll?”

A laugh breaks from your mouth and he lights up, grinning.

“Oh, that’s how it’s gonna be?” You can’t help the smile splitting your own lips. “Sure, make fun of the girl who just got hustled, easy prey.”

The way he looks at you is burning.

“I’m Bucky,” he says. “James Bucky Barnes.”

“I know,” you say with a laugh. When you give him your name, he almost looks like he wants to try it out, but he keeps it on his tongue like he’s tasting it instead.

“So, a drink?” he asks, a little cautiously.

“I’d like that.” Then, you look down and curse. “But I’m gross. I really need to go home and change.”

Bucky nods, but a look of disappointment crosses his face, there and then gone again, just enough to make your heart tighten into a painful brick weight atop your chest. Everything in your brain is saying no, don’t do it, don’t do it. But your heart hurts and it hurts for him, a man you’ve only met in news articles and awkward interviews until now, when he’s saved you from being slapped around by some creep or worse, and god, you have such a soft heart sometimes and it’s gotten you in trouble before but you can’t just ignore it.

“Do you like Bloody Marys?”

His eyes meet yours again and you’re drawn into the storm that swirls in his irises once again.

“Never had one,” he admits. “They don’t look much like a drink.”

“Well, if you’re interested, I have the stuff to make a really good one at home. And then I could change and clean up a little and still y’know, thank you for saving my life? I mean it’s not much, but—”

“Yes,” he says, his voice as sure and steady as it was earlier when he was in hero mode. “That sounds great.”

Oh, you’re fucked. You’re so fucked.

The walk back to your apartment isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s not easy. Bucky walks beside you like a forcefield, using his body to guide you through the throng of people walking along the streets without even touching you. He reminds you of a sheepdog. The thought almost makes you laugh more than a few times during your stroll.

He walks with his hands in his pockets most of the way, especially his metal one. And he isn’t much of a talker, not that you mind as long as he keeps answering the questions you’re asking him, like what kind of food he likes and what he thinks about sphynx cats and if he likes memes—of which his answers consist of anything, what the hell is that and why is it naked, and a resounding yes.

Bucky asks some of his own questions, though they are few and far between and a lot more cohesive and meaningful than your own. He asks about how long you’ve lived in Washington D.C., about what you do for a living, and about your friends.

“Why did they leave you there?” He’s staring at you when he asks, brows sharp and furrowed.

“Because I told them to,” you answer. “I didn’t want them to get hurt or anything. And I’m kind of the person that if I’m yelling, you better listen ‘cause I’m usually yelling for a good reason.”

He nods like he understands, but his lips are pressed flat. “They shouldn’t have left you.”

You shrug. “I wanted them to. I would’ve been more pissed if they hadn’t run off and gotten tangled up in the middle of everything.”

“You’re a good person,” he says, still looking at you. His face is softer, that hint of a curve in his mouth the only sign that anything’s changed.

You give him your own smile. “Maybe.”

It’s only once you get to the front door of your apartment that things shift and your stomach rolls, heavy and fluttering light all at once, a not-so-familiar-anymore anxiety chilling your skin. The keys in your hand jingle and you aren’t sure if it's because your fingers are shaking or not.

“It’s not much,” you say, beckoning him inside, “but y’know, it’s enough for me.”

Bucky steps through the door with a reverence, a caution, a carefulness that strikes you right in the heart. He looks out of place for a minute, like he’s never entered an apartment before. And then, as you kick off your shoes, losing the extra inch of height, smiling and gesturing for him to do the same, there’s something in him that snaps and bends and his shoulders fall, relaxed.

He toes off his boots, leaving them by the door, and suddenly there’s a different air in the apartment. Almost intimate. Comfortable.

Stop it. You don’t even know him.

“Make yourself at home. Can I get you anything? A glass of water or something?”

Bucky shakes his head as he follows behind you, slowly, his eyes roaming over your space. It’s really not much, you know that. A little more than a box with a bathroom and a bedroom attached, what with the living room and the kitchen being “open-concept,” a word you’re pretty sure was invented to sell tiny apartments for more money. You don’t even have a table to sit at—just a couch to plunk down on while you’re eating.

“I’m alright, doll,” he says, running a hand over the soft cushions of said couch. “You go change, I’m fine.”

As soon as you disappear into your bedroom, the door locked behind you, you lean against the wood and let out a sigh. This is awkward. What the fuck were you thinking? Asking an Avenger—Bucky Barnes—back to your apartment for a drink? A bloody mary? Who are you trying to kid?

It’s been years, literal years since you’ve invited anyone back to your apartment. In fact, you don’t think anyone besides your friends has even stepped foot inside. Maybe they haven’t even made it to the door.

Why would you invite him here?

In frustration, you strip your dirty shirt off and throw it onto the floor, shimmy-ing out of your skirt and kicking it toward the hamper just as well. You sort through your drawers, looking for something comfortable to throw on. Or maybe you should wear something nice? Something that looks similar to what you wore to brunch. But Bucky’s dressed in jeans and a hoodie. But he also looks like a modern god in just that.

Fuck. You are fucked. Why did you ask him back to your place for a drink? What did you think would happen?

You throw an old band t-shirt over your head and pull a black pair of loose shorts up over your hips, cursing when you realize they don’t even hit mid-thigh. Does that seem suggestive? Is Bucky going to think you want to fuck him if you walk out in these?

Do you want to fuck Bucky?

No. No. This is not what this is about. You invited him over because you owed him a drink and because you needed to change and because he seemed so damn sad when you said you couldn’t go out for a drink. So you asked him to come home with you. Oh, god, that’s so complicated. What have you gotten yourself into?

Stop. Just stop thinking.

But—you have to admit it to yourself—you want it. You want him.

Your friends’ earlier words repeat in your head. A human, a connection, something that isn’t an empty apartment. They aren’t wrong for thinking that it’s something you want. For most of your life, you’ve lived thinking that you shouldn’t need someone. But isn’t it okay to want someone? You’re tired of being alone. Bucky Barnes is the first man that’s been in your empty apartment since you moved in, and maybe it’s a bold move, but you know what?

You throw yourself out of your bedroom, probably looking a little too frazzled, and you quickly comb your fingers through your hair as nonchalantly as possible to fix the flyaways. Bucky’s sitting on your couch, looking lonely, his hands rigid on his spread knees.

He looks like he fits there, on your sofa, in your empty apartment.

“Look,” you say in a breath, catching his attention. When he looks at you, his eyes sweep over your body like he’s never seen a woman before; shy, timid, a little nervous, but there’s something else there. It’s the same thing that’s heating your insides right now.

“I can make you a drink,” you offer, leaning against the doorframe to your bedroom with your arms crossed over your chest, staring at him, “or I can come over there and you can kiss me drunk instead, ‘cause I’m already halfway there.”

Bucky’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second, and then a cocky grin is curling his lips up, his face brightening the entire apartment. You don’t know if your body is warm because you’re embarrassed at your own daring or because Bucky Barnes is so beautiful it’s criminal, but you know that there’s static and stretch in your limbs and desire pooling in your belly. Liquor and lust are chasing away whatever fears you had before.

“Really?” he asks, but there’s a teasing lilt to his voice that reminds you of what a fucking flirt he is, or that he can be, and you think butterflies might be taking up residence in your tummy.

“Really,” you mimic, wearing your own charmed smile. Bucky lets his head fall to the side as he looks over you, then crooks one metal finger at you, beckoning you to join him on the couch. With as much confidence as you can muster, you stride toward him, putting a little swing in your steps. Maybe you look crazy doing it, but it’s enough that his eyes flicker down to watch your hips, and it sends a thrill through you.

“This isn’t like me,” you tell him as you sink down beside him, as close as possible while still giving him space to bolt if he needs to. “I don’t invite strangers over to my house like this.”

He smiles and it’s warm and big and easy. “I’m glad you did,” he says.

God, his eyes are pretty. “Me too.”

With Bucky’s thigh pressed against yours, his hand resting dangerously close to one of your bare knees, knuckles brushing your skin every time he shifts, you’re melting into his touch and you don’t care. It’s intoxicating—not the alcohol, which you swear should be wearing off by now, but him.

“I don’t do this often,” you say again, like you need to defend your bold behavior.

“Does that mean I’m special?”

“I think so,” you murmur, only loud enough for him to hear being this close.

Kinder than you thought possible, somehow simultaneously suave but still a little nervous, and yet authentic to a fault, Bucky Barnes is a thousand and one contradictions. Nothing like you ever thought he’d be. And maybe that’s what gives you the courage, the thought that someone so hardened could be so soft. That someone who looks like him, chiseled and striking and like a charcoal sketching on stark paper, could turn red at your innuendos and your charmed quips. That there’s a chance he could be attracted to you.

This—This is the connection you’ve been waiting for. The person who makes you feel like this. Tipsy when you shouldn’t be tipsy anymore.

“I know we barely know each other, but I really, really want you, Bucky.”

Your shoulder is pressed to his shoulder, your chest nearing his chest, your chin tipped up to stare at his eyes, his nose, his parted lips. Bucky stares down at you, his Adam’s apple dipping and bobbing as he swallows hard. Your lips curl, threatening to giggle. He’s so damn cute. How can someone like him, an Avenger, a super soldier, look so cute?

But the hand at your knee finally creeps up your skin, his hot palm glossing over your bare thigh, resting a little higher than a friendly touch would go. He presses indents—not too hard, but not too soft—into your plush, silken flesh.

“You do?” he asks, tongue darting out to wet his lip and you want to follow it back into his mouth with your own.

To answer, you push closer, your hand coming up to drape across his neck, a little off-balance as you sit up on your knees.

“Mhm,” you hum, and that’s all he needs to grasp your thigh roughly and drag you over him, seating you upon his lap as a squeak of surprise flies from your lips. His hands fall to your hips as if your body was made for him to hold and suddenly you’re looking down at him and he’s looking up at you instead, and god, he’s staring at you like you’re heaven and earth and everything he ever needed to be saved.

“I want you too,” he says, exhaling as if you’ve stolen all the air in his lungs.

“Then will you finally kiss me?” Your nose brushes his and his breath ghosts over your mouth.

Bucky’s lips surge up to meet yours, swallowing the last sounds of your words like it’s the first drink of water he’s had in years, cool and refreshing and tinged with smoke, something uniquely him.

As your hands thread through his short locks, desperate to hold onto him in any way, his fingers begin to curve over your ass. You rock into him, pressing against him harder, sucking at his plush lips as his tongue skims over your top lip until you grant him entry. Bucky kisses like he’s trying to taste every single part of you and it sends waves of pleasure through your belly and to your core, where you grind down until you feel his hardening length beneath you.

Immediately, you start to strip him of his hoodie, divesting him of that layer to feel the soft shirt beneath—but only barely because it’s hell trying to pull his hands away from where they’re touching you.

And he’s touching you everywhere. His fingers roam over every generous piece of your body. The silken planes of your thighs where he’s pushed your shorts up, the wide canyons of your hips, the bumpy hills of your waist where your stomach is too big and too soft and where he slips his mismatched hands under your shirt to trace the lines of your stretch marks. It isn’t long until he brushes by the band of your bra and then he’s tugging at the hem of the shirt, pulling away from your lips long enough to rid you of it.

You take the moment to rid him of his too, and then you’re both topless, still sitting atop his lap and panting from lack of air. No words are shared between you before Bucky is capturing your mouth again. It’s only passion, frenzied and hot and wanting.

His fingers fumble with the hooks of your bra blindly as your teeth sink into his bottom lip, nipping and giggling and tangling your tongue around his. As soon as you hear the snap, you lean back and Bucky pulls it off you, flinging the offending garment somewhere else in the apartment.

Now, with your naked chest completely bared to him, you wait for it to happen. For his eyes to dart away, for the apprehension to cross his features, for the disgust to set it. The real reason that it’s been so long since you’ve invited someone into your empty apartment—into your empty life.

You’re scared.

Like you’re expecting the blow, you close your eyes and brace yourself, but you don’t cover up. You’ve learned not to cover up. You refuse to make yourself smaller, or prettier, or more tolerable for people. It’s why you don’t get entangled with one-night stands anymore, why you don’t ask strangers to come home with you, why you don’t let your girlfriends set you up with anyone. Because you refuse to make yourself something you’re not just to fit in, and that’s what always, always ends up happening.

Bucky touches you and it makes you flinch, his vibranium fingers a little chilly against the soft, warm skin of your stomach. He touches you and it’s electric, but you don’t open your eyes.

You’re too afraid to look and see the disappointment in his gorgeous blues.

His hands skim over your rib cage, sliding around the sides of your waist, his thumbs grazing the undersides of your breasts. You shiver at the contact. He continues his trail upwards, but then he lays his palms on your shoulders and caresses over your neck, his fingers finally finding the edge of your soft jaw to cradle your face. A shaky breath leaves you.

“Look at me,” he whispers, closer than you thought.

And no matter how much you’ll berate yourself over it later, there is something so safe about Bucky Barnes that your lashes flutter and your eyes open, and he’s right there, right there in front of you, staring at you with those stormy sea eyes half-lidded and glazed over with lust, his pink lips parted in awe, and you gasp at the intensity that strikes right through the center of you.

“You’re…” he trails off, swallowing nervously again. “Doll, I don’t think I know a word in English that describes you.”

Bucky presses forward, his chest brushing against your hardened nipples, stealing your breath and then sealing your lips with a kiss that isn’t like before. This kiss isn’t needy or wanting or filled with teeth and tongue and desperation. This time, his mouth moves with yours as if he’s trying to spell out a thousand words in twenty different languages to tell you how he feels, his lips leading yours in a dance that isn’t worried about an audience or the music or if you step on his toes.

When he pulls away, you wonder if your mouth is as swollen as his.

“You’re perfect,” he says with a finality in his tone that almost makes you collapse into his arms.

Then, Bucky wastes no time and captures a nipple in between those swollen lips, causing you to let out an embarrassingly loud noise in surprise. His metal hand finds your other breast, thumb stroking over the bud until you’re arching further into him. As his tongue traces patterns around one nipple, his fingers tweak and twist and pull its sister, and your hands grasp his broad shoulders in an attempt to hold on.

Finally, he presses gentle kisses over your rosy buds, all worn out by his touches, and then circles your breasts with more kitten licks and grazes of his teeth. Bucky’s hands settle at your hips again, fingers grasping your skin like he can’t get enough of the feel of you. He’s trying to imprint your body on his palms.

“I need to have you, doll,” he says all breathy as if he isn’t the one absolutely drenched right now. “Please. Please,” he asks so softly that you wonder if this is the man who even came to your rescue today, all tall and brooding. When you grind down on his lap again, feeling his hard cock beneath his jeans as he lets out a groan and tightens his grip on your waist, you realize you’re not the only one feeling the tension.

Still, there’s something cheeky left in you and you reach out to swipe your finger across his nose, effectively booping it cutely. A grin splits your lips.

“You need me?” you ask teasingly. “What if I need you instead?”

It’s like it sets something ablaze in him or something, ‘cause as soon as you go in for another kiss, Bucky stands up from the couch, his hands cradling your ass as you shriek and wrap your legs around him in reflex.

“Oh my god—”

“Now you’ve done it,” he grunts, burying his face in your neck to pepper kisses all over the stretch of skin that encompasses your shoulder, your jawline, even up into your hairline by your ear.

“Oh my god, put me down Bucky, I’m—you’re gonna drop me, I’m too heavy!”

“Heavy?” He chuckles against your throat and the vibrations almost make you shudder in pleasure. God, what is this man doing to you? “Darlin’, I don’t think you know the meaning of heavy.”

Bucky flashes you a wide, almost predatory grin, and you wonder where that soft, nervous boy went.

“If I wanted to,” he says, his voice low and steady, “I could fuck you right here, in the middle of the room, for hours.” He must feel the shiver that goes through your entire body because he’s laughing again. “But I want to fuck you into your mattress if that’s okay. Can I do that?”

Your throat feels dry when you whisper, “Yes. Please.”

He punctuates your plea with a heated kiss to your lips, his tongue tasting the citrus and bubble from your mimosas, the alcohol long since worn off. It’s all him that you feel, all him that intoxicates you, and all him around you as he walks you into your bedroom, not even straining under your weight, and dumps you onto the middle of your sheets.

There, he cages you, hovering above you to kiss down your body, already intent on tearing your shorts off.

“Bucky,” you whine. In the afternoon light streaming through the single window in your room, his eyes are a startling color you wish you could name, all clear and confident and crystal and god, god, his fingers are already exploring the slit of your core so lightly it makes you flush and want to hide, your inner thighs sticky and coated in your own slick from how hot he’s made you with such simple touches.

“You want me?” he asks as if he doesn’t know.

“Yes,” you hiss in pleasure, body writhing beneath him. Bucky leans down to kiss the shell of your ear, his tongue blazing a hot trail that makes you moan and buck your hips up to meet his, but he won’t have any of that.

“Good,” he says, “‘cause I need to have you, and I don’t plan on letting you go ‘till I’ve gotten everything you’ve got to give, doll.”

That nervous Bucky, all awkward smiles and panicked glances and sweet lines, he’s gone. In his place is this Bucky, assured and charming and suave and smooth and making your eyes roll back into your head until a scream is threatening to burst from your lips unless he swallows it with his own kiss, which he does, over and over again.

“I’m gonna ravage you, darlin’.”

You aren’t sure which one you like better—but is it greedy to say both?

As the light of a new day spreads through your apartment, you awaken easily, softly, but painfully. Someone’s pulled the blankets up to your chin and tucked them around you, and the thought leaves an empty feeling inside of you. When you stretch, every part of you burns deliciously, a memory from the hours spent in bed, on the couch, on the fucking counter after you’d eaten and he still wasn’t satisfied, and then again in bed.

And now, looking over at the space beside you, he’s gone. His clothes are gone from the floor. There’s no sound echoing in the building. He even left you tucked in, for god’s sake.

Your apartment is just as it always has been—empty.

With a groan, you kick the covers off and plant your feet on the floor, willing yourself to get up. The ache in your muscles is nothing more than a pleasant memory, an unpleasant reminder of the marks he left on you, his absence.

Stop it. You shouldn’t have even gotten attached to him in the first place. You knew what this was, and he did too, and it’s no wonder he’s gone this morning.

Get over it.

You swipe an oversized shirt from your dresser and throw it over your head as you stride out toward the kitchen, content to go pantyless for the day after the abuse you put it through last night. Yawning, your eyes screwed shut in another big stretch to warm up your overused muscles, you hear him before you see him.

“Mornin’, doll.”

Like that, your eyes snap open and he’s there, standing in your tiny kitchen in nothing but last night’s boxers, looking fucking glorious in the spotlight of the warm sun that’s streaming through the room and highlighting the counters.

“Bucky?” you ask, but it’s a little loud and a little shrieking, something you don’t intend. But all he does is smile at you, metal fingers tapping the plastic countertop, so at ease he just looks like he belongs there.

“I thought I’d make you breakfast but you have nothing in your fridge,” he jokes, leaning back against the drawers and crossing his arms over his bare chest.

You shift, embarrassed, looking anywhere but at him. “Yeah, I need to go shopping.”

A long stretch of silence fills your apartment and you’re unsure of what to say in order to break it. Bucky’s clearly watching you, drinking in the sight of your love-marked body, bruises peeking out of the hem of your shirt that barely skims past the tops of your thighs, and you remember you’re wearing nothing underneath.

And he’s here, right here, and you really aren’t sure why. It seems the two of you have almost switched places. Where Bucky was nervous and shy at first, he’s now confident and comfortable and you’re left with heated cheeks and a tongue-tied in knots. Whatever boldness that came over you all yesterday has fled.

It’s left a deep pocket of insecurity inside of you.

“Why are you still here?” you ask, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, like you don’t care, but your voice shakes a little. He’s too far away to really tell, but you think a flash of hurt passes over Bucky’s brow.

“‘Cause you still owe me a drink,” he says as if it's obvious, a small smile still sitting so prettily on his mouth.

You blink, a little confused, but shuffle closer. “Bloody Mary?”

“Yeah,” he says with a deep breath, his grin growing bigger the closer that you come toward him. “Will you still make me one?”

You nod, toes finally crossing into the kitchen, and then you and Bucky are staring at each other. There are scratches left like the bones of a graveyard on his arms, and you’re almost sure if he turned around they’d cover his neck and back just as well. Seeing those reddened marks, similar to the bruises he’s left on you, makes you relax your shoulders just a little.

“Do you need help?” he asks, eyes sweeping over your barely covered form.

“No,” you say, heading to the kitchen which is little more than a countertop, a stove, and a fridge. “But you can keep me company.”

So this is what happens in the morning after. Bucky leans against the counter next to you, watching you with a burning intensity that nearly matches last night’s, and you pull all the ingredients out and line them up next to two glasses and try not to falter under his gaze. He looks at you like you’re this fascinating thing he needs to study and it bothers you, but only in the best of ways.

“Do you always stare this hard at your dates?” A smile plays at your lips as you crack open the tomato juice.

He doesn’t look away. “No,” he says, but he sounds unsure. “Is this a date, doll?” There’s something in his voice that you can’t figure out, faintly hopeful, fairly confused. Vaguely surprised, even.

You shrug. “Maybe.” Especially after all of yesterday, you would hope he thought so.

But Bucky shakes his head. “No.”

Ow.

That hurt more than you were expecting it to. Calling yourself his date had only been a joke meant to lighten the mood, ease him up a little, cure the tension swirling in the room. You guess you should have expected it, though. You owed him a drink—he didn’t owe you a date. It wasn’t supposed to be a date, anyway.

All you had done was sleep together, for fuck’s sake. This is why you hate morning afters. This is why you would have preferred it if he had been gone when you woke.

But was that even true? Because the relief you felt when you found him waiting for you in the kitchen was immense and hard to understand.

You open the bottle of vodka a little more forcefully than you intended.

“When we go out on a real date,” he continues, and your eyes meet, “I’ll be taking you out and treating you.” A slow grin crawls over his face that reminds you of his wicked mouth and what it can do and the sight makes your heart beat and beat and beat, faster and faster, like the wings of a hummingbird, quick quick quick.

“When?”

“When,” he affirms.

“That’s bold of you,” you say, popping ice cubes from a tray into the glasses.

“Maybe,” he says, “but I know what I want now.” Bucky shifts a little closer to you, his vibranium arm brushing by the bare skin of your soft one as you try and focus on not spilling the juice, but you can smell him and he smells like cedar and bergamot and smoke and clove. A smell that consumed you whole last night, surrounded you, drowned you in it.

He’s so close you can feel him inhale.

“I’ve lived a long time not knowing—not getting to decide—what I want,” he admits, his voice low and quiet and soothing your nervous heart. “So you can call it bold, but I call it right.”

The sincerity in his voice makes your hands still and you look up at him, eyes wide. In the soft white lights of your tiny kitchen, sharing the tight space with him so close, Bucky’s eyes are thunder and rain and lightning all at once, peace and chaos both, promising release and the sweet scent of earth and oil afterward.

“You don’t even know me,” you whisper.

Bucky leans closer. “But I want to.”

He’s so close, too close, close enough that he can surely hear the rhythm of your heart, unsteady and racing just for him. You could surge forward and kiss him, stake your claim once again on those pinkened lips that have held your attention from the first time you saw them, feel the stubble of his jaw rub against the soft peach fuzz of your own, let it remind you of how it felt against the apex of your thighs as he made you cry out over and over again, breaking on his tongue over and over again.

It makes you feel dizzier than any alcohol ever could.

But Bucky reaches over, past you, and takes one of the glasses from your hand, warm fingers brushing over your cooler ones. He holds it up, toward you, gesturing for a toast. With a swallow, hardly glancing away from his slate eyes to grab the other glass, you tap your Bloody Mary against his with a soft clink.

He watches you over the rim as he takes his first sip and you think he might be smirking. Then, he darts toward you and takes your lips in his own, tasting of spice and tomato juice and perfection, all Bucky, all for you.

When he pulls away, too quickly, he rests his forehead against your and looks down at you, staring into your hazy eyes.

“Will you let me stay?” he asks, like he doesn’t know what you’ll say. The soft, nervous Bucky is peeking out from behind his confident visage once again, his voice hopeful and frightened and the hand that’s gliding beneath your shirt and over your waist more timid than it was last night.

There’s a million things you can say. You can tell him to take you out to brunch instead. You can tell him you’re too busy. You can tell him that this was a one-night stand, it was only ever meant to be a one night stand, and that it was fun but you can’t afford to get attached to him and god, you know you’re going to get attached to him if he stays and that scares the ever-living fuck out of you. You can tell him that it’s messy here, inside your empty apartment, inside your empty heart. You can tell him that he could take up residence here. You can tell him so, so many things.

“Yes,” you say instead, and Bucky laughs against your mouth when he kisses you hard once more.

#Eury2kchallenge #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #plus sized reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff #mcu #marvel #bucky barnes smut #smut #divine masterlist

[lilith-of-rivia]

Chapter 1: The Meeting

Summary: Ina of Cintra the Lioness's firstborn daughter has been a well-kept secret. her title as princess never leaving the castle walls, her abilities, abnormalities not being uttered without the blessing of the queen. She has her entire life planned and guided so she doesn't break the Crown's rules. She has been an outstanding model of good behavior, that's until she meets a certain witcher.

Word Count: 3.6K

Warnings: Blood and gore, swearing, mentions of death

I

“Ma’am…” Knock, knock, knock. I had heard whoever it was coming to wake me up before they even got to my door.

“Yes?” I heard them hold their breath, they weren’t expecting me to be awake.

“Uh-uh yes ma’am, Druk is outside. He has sent for you.”

“Yes thank you. I’m awake.” I said as I rose from my bed. Folding at the hips my fingers gazed at the floor as I yawned in a stretch. My spins cracked along with my shoulders.

“Yes of course ma’am” There were no footsteps and the heartbeat was still there outside the door.

“You may leave now.”

“Right right, yes ma’am.” Scurried light footsteps filled the empty hall as they left.

With a heavy sigh, I contemplated the day I had ahead of myself. Mornings with Druk were never different. The day was was one full day of drills, day two was one different full day of drills than to day three, four, five, then repeat next week. Druk wasn’t like other witchers I had met. He wasn’t focused on the coin or glory. Maybe it’s because he saw his brothers and mentors be slaughtered when his Keep fell.

“Knock knock.” My eyes snapped to the door of my room, dragging attention away from the gauntlet on my. My mother stood at the door. She was still in her sleep clothes, a wool robe hugged her body as she smiled softly at me from the door.

“Morning mother,” I said looking back at my gauntlet, huffing in frustration as I struggled to get them tied.

Wordlessly my mother walked across the room, grabbing my arm as she sat in the chair across from the one I was in. her fingers delicately tied the strings tightly, the gauntlets tightening around my wrists. Once finished, she softly held one of my hands, her face was cold, stoic as always. But once she looked me in the eyes I saw the fear.

“You know, don’t you…” I nodded my head. Looking out the window of my room, breaking eye contact. I stood up walking from her to the armored cabinet in my room. I grabbed my two swords from their hooks looking over them and assessing their sharpness.

“I heard you and the court talking last night. Many in this castle forget I have super hearing.” I heard her sigh heavily, shakily.

“I’m so sorry, Ina…” I turned to her. Her gaze was on the floor, her chest rising and falling fast.

“Mum...don’t cry…” I crouched down by her side, my hands going to hers squeezing them. She looked back at me, one hand cupping my face. Her thumb softly brushed over the scar on my left cheek.

“I’m so sorry I brought you into this world...Into this life...I wish I had known your life would be so painful…” I leaned into her warm hand, my eyes closing as she spoke.

“Stop blaming yourself...everything happens for a reason...and no matter what happens after the meeting today...I will always love you.” Her hand moved from my face to my neck. She pulled me into her chest, hugging me tightly.

“I’m so sorry.” Hse sobbed into my hair, rocking us back and forth. I said nothing, just kept my arms around her, holding her while she sobbed. Her tears wetting the spot she laid on my shoulder.

“Don’t be…”

II

“You know princess, I do not normally wait. You are lucky the gold and wine your mother gives is so good.” Druk’s voice was below a whisper as we snuck through the damp dark woods. My hands felt the tree bark under us as we slowly tipped around the fallen trees, as to make as little noise as possible. Funny with Druk’s big mouth.

“My mother is very worried about the meeting tonight,” I whispered back, following him as he weaved in and around the thickly wooded forest. We were hot on the trails of a stray kikimore that had been terrorizing a southern village. Druk and I were sent to take care of it.

“Are you worried?” Druk asked, pausing to look back at me.

I stopped too for a moment, thinking about his question.

My eyes searched the forest around us while we sat in silence. The forest was no longer lush and green. Late Saovine meant the world was cold, covered in ice and snow. Nothing was awake. All the animals were in hibernation, birds had flown south for the winter. The only things still awake were the monsters.

“No. I’m not. Should I be?” Druk looks away from me, his amber eyes searching the forest around us.

“Tonight is the night a pannel of witchers, mages, and the royal court you belong to decide if you go through the trials...maybe a little of fear. It would be healthy.” I smirked and rolled my eyes.

“Fear isn’t necessary for my vocabulary.” Druk laughed softly, his head nodding as he looked me in the eyes again.

“Then don’t be afraid. Fuck em all. If any woman could survive the trials it’s you.” Once finished with his small sentiment, a cheesy grin spread across his face. He nodded his head in the direction of the kikimore and we both rook off after it again.

Our feet lept, ran, jumped, and sprinted across the fallen trees and rocks throughout the forest. The snow-covered ground would cause too much noise. Druk had gone to the Witcher school of the cat. He prides himself on his ability to remain stealthy and quiet, all while being just as lethal as witchers from other schools. He taught me to only put my feet on the ground when it really mattered. You’re much easier to be tracked and killed when you travel foot to the ground. But foot to a tree to rock is a different story.

Jumping from a rock onto a tree we scaled the side till we were above the tree line. Out heads stuck up and out of the dead branches. Our chests rising and falling heavily as we looked around, noses sniffing out the location of the kikimore. The high point giving us the advantage. Druk’s yellow eyes scanned the trees below while I sniffed the wind. He had better eyes than I. his mutations to thank for that. The wind blew softly and the thick smell of iron and rotting corpses seeped into my nostrils and filled my head.

“To the east,” I said quietly. Druk adjusted his direction eyes grazing the land elbow us. A small smirk graced his lips, he found it.

“It about four hundred yards northeast. Common princess no time to waste.” We quickly scaled our way down the tree till our feet were steady on the branches. He wasn’t wrong, we were already out way longer than we were intending. Meaning we were going to be late for the meeting.

Druk took the lead. His hand holding the hilt of his silver swords. His other hand out in front of him, his fingers gleaming with a soft blue tint. Aard was spoken in elder inaudible to the average human. He was prepared to blast the kikemore to give me more time to ambush it. Druk only ever took the lead, then he’d stand back and watch. He’d teach me a new skill by charging whatever beast. Whether it was a new sign manipulation, a new combat skill, or hell even how he wields his sword. He started, I’d then follow and clean up.

“Ready Ina?” There was a soft pop and a cork fell onto the ground below us with a soft thud. His head fell back the liquid pouring down his throat. He grimaced slightly before turning to me, his eyes were black as night, now white to be seen. The veins on his neck, face, and hands were dark black and bulging. The potion was vital for witchers, giving them heightened senses, and skills. Allowing their powers to increase.

“So fucking ready,” I said, a smile gracing my lips. He returned the smile, his more sinister with the help of his eyes.

My sword was in hand. The silver catching the few rays of sun peeking through the clouds above. We both moved silently through the brush. Out feet feather-light against the snow. We moved fast, never keeping pressure on one spot too long to not break the crust of the snow. Druk made it to the clearing first. The Kikimore was alerted to us as soon as we reached its small nest.

Druk’s hand thrust out in front of himself, a huge ball of blue light smacked into the kikimore, throwing it back and hard into the tree. Druk sheathed his sword and ducked behind me. The kikimore shook its head before it made eye contact with me. I crouched lower to the ground, eyeing the beast. It slowly started to move to its left, so I mimicked it. We slowly began circling one another. The Kikimore’s large gray limbs stabbed into the ground with every step. Its gross snarly face, red beady eyes looking me over, studying my every move. The only issue was I knew where and how it would be.

The kikimore pounced, its legs kicking up dirt as it tore after me. The short distance between us was gone in no time. I lunged out of the way. Diving and rolling away from the clumsy beast. I was much smaller, giving me an advantage.

“My my what an ugly fucker you are.” I mocked. The beast turned to me again, and let out a low grumbly growl. I was moving closer to its nest. I could smell the rotting bodies even worse as I moved slowly. My eyes never leaving the kikimore.

It charged again. I slashed my sword through the air, spinning around, splicing my sword up in the air. The kikimore squealed and screamed as its leg fell from its body. Spinning on my heels my sword slashed through the air again, making contact with its neck. The sword slashed through the beast’s thick, fat neck like butter. The screams stopped, the kikimore’s body falling limp on the ground, blood-spewing, and pooling on the ground and around my boots. I sighed heavily, a smile gracing my lips again as I whipped the dark black blood from my blade before sliding back into its sheath on my back.

Clap, clap, clap. “Very well done princess!! A full-grown warrior kikimore down in two strikes, no potions or magic!” Druk had a smile ear to ear, his potion still in effect. Seeing a laughing, happy smiling witcher with pure black eyes was a sight to see.

“Only as good as my mentor my dear friend,” I said with a laugh. Crouching to the ground, my hand gathering the small tuft of hair atop the kikimore’s head and lifted it so it was eye level with me. Blood dripped from its mouth, nose, and eyes. Its dark purple tongue hung out of its mangled mouth.

“Add another one to my list.”

III

“Common hurry Druk!!” I yelled through the rain as we ran up the cobblestone road towards the castle. The kikimore’s head swung over my shoulder. “We are already late they will have my head!!” Druk ran from the stables after me, quickly catching up with me right as I neared the doors.

The two guards opened them for us as we walked through. I breathed heavily, my lips blue as my teeth chattered. Despite my many abnormal traits I still got just as cold as the average human. The rain had come out of nowhere. The two of us speed walk down the corridor, our muddy boots squeaking against the marble floors as we got closer to the royal library. A place I’d only ever been when I was being threatened by the crown’s court. The doors appeared ahead of us as we both halted before we could be close enough to be heard. The floor below us was wet as we dripped head to toe.

Glancing at Druk I gulped, now that I was about to walk into the room, I was more than terrified. The prospect of the trials was so much closer than they had ever been my entire life. Druks hand went to my shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“You’ve got this.” He whispered, before giving me a soft push towards the door. I took a deep breath before shoving the door open, swallowing the fear and placing the stoic look of my mother back on my face.

The voices in the room stopped when I walked in. my boots stopping heavily on the floor. My eyes glanced around the room, everyone there were people I have known for many years. My mother stood in the center of the room by her throne, my sister who was not supposed to be here was next to her. They looked scared.

“Sorry, I’m late, had a prior arrangement.” I heaved the beast’s head over my shoulder and threw it on the floor. It flopped down and rolled a little its tongue falling out as its cold dead eyes stared up at Gadri, a member of the Crowns Court. His face scrunched in disgusts before he kicked it away from his shoes.

“You are nearly three hours late, Ina.” I rolled my eyes my attention going back to my mother and sister.

“What is she doing here?” I asked pointing to my sister.

“We think it’s important that the future queen gets to help make choices regarding her subjects.” Hazzez, a plump fat little man with a bald shiny head and large white mustache and beard said standing from his seat.

I huffed, the corner of my lip pulling into a sly smirk as I shook my head. Water falling on the floor.

“Yes, the future queen who passes her sister even tho her sister is the senior. Yes, and my sister needs to be in control of whether I will be subjected to the trials and if I’ll die or not.” Druks witcher attitude tended to rub off on me. Witchers are trained, to be honest, overly honest. Blunt and rude is what many present them as.

“Ina. enough.” my mother said sternly, her jaw tightening. I bite my tongue nodding my head. My fingers pulled at the buttons of my jacket, throwing it on the floor in a wet pile. The room was cold, making the wet clothes on my body send shivers down my spine.

I glanced around the room, eyeing the other members of the Crown’s Court. And then the other few people who were in the room. Tissaia, a mage from Aretuza smiled at me fondly as we made eye contact.

“Hello, princess, my how you’ve grown.” Her voice filled the empty room. I smiled back at her.

“Tissaia-” I bowed my head to her softly, “yes, it’s been a while hasn’t it? What 15 years?”

“17 years.” my mother chimed in behind me.

“Whos the mystery man next to you?” I asked her, she glanced over at the witcher who was perched next to her. Druk was seated next to him.

“Well get to that in a second. Please sit down.” Hazzez said, gesturing to a lone isolated chare in the middle of the room.

It was as if I was on trial, for simply being born.

IV

“Druk how has she been doing?” My mother asked, her eyes glaring daggers at the five men who were attempting to discredit the years of work and training I had done with Druk.

Durk rose from his seat next to the other witcher, a bored look on his face. “She is exceptional. Not only her physical talents in combat and swords but her book knowledge. I’ve trained three other witchers before her, and none of them come close to the skills she posses. She is a skilled alchemist, a skilled swordsman, she is skilled in nearly every talent she tries. I would trust her in a battle to have my back any day. It has been an honor training her for 15 years, your highness.” I smiled at him, a smirk covering his lips.

“With all due respect your highness we are not interested in what the witcher from a failed school has to say. The witcher to his right has been watching her and keeping track of her success. That’s who we care about.”

Before the witcher could address them, Tissaia stood up. “What is the problem here gentlemen. On her fifth birthday, you all made this a rule. You said her abnormalities would only ever benefit her if she was trained as an assassin or a witcher. She has been trained for 17 years by a witcher, as a witcher. She has proven time and time again she doesn’t need the trials and mutations to be as skilled as a witcher.”

“Thank you, Tissaia, but need I remind you that you are only here to as a stand-in for the mage in your court who can still perform the mutations. Please sit down and be quiet.” My mother shot Tissaia a look, making her shut her mouth and sit down. The witcher next to Druk stood up.

“I have been following her and her trainer. For months now. Even just today I followed them while they killed the stray Kikimore. She killed the Kikimore with two strikes something many of my boys have struggled with as fully mutated and trained witchers. She without a doubt has a talent and a heart of the witcher.” I heard my mother’s breath catch in her throat as she held my sister’s hand. My sister was stating at me, had been since I sat down. Her face was painfully still, her throat tight as she breathed heavily. She looked scared, so did my mother.

“Tissaia, you will take Ina to Kear Morhen. Along with the mages in your court. The mutations will be done by the end of the week.” My throat ran dry. Hazzez kept talking but my brain tuned him out. None of us thought they would go through with this. The chances of me surviving the trials and the mutations were nearly impossible. Less than 20% of the boys who face the trials died. And the mutations are designed for male genetics, not females. I was never supposed to be mutated, just trained.

“Hazzez you piece of shit!!” My mother screamed as she stood from her chair. Her hand reached for the dagger she kept strapped to her thigh.

Her hand came down quickly with the shinny dagger, flying towards Hazzez face. My hands quickly caught her arms and I pushed her back. Knowing if she killed one of her court members over me I would surely be sent away and killed, no chance of survival.

“Mother mother please stop it please,” I screamed into her red, tear-stained face as she attempted to fight me off. Her chest rose and fell heavily. She hissed through her gritted teeth, she was probably breaking teeth.

“Queen Calanthe-” Hazzez spoke. I turned to look at him, my back to my mother. Her dagger is in my hand. I threw it to the floor, kicking it away. “Do not forget the sympathy the crown, and your father gave you for your bastard daughter. She should have been killed out of the womb. But your father cared too much for you. Count your blessing that you got 20 years with her, and at least she will die with a little bit of dignity.” Hazzez stood up to leave, the four men ready to follow him, they gathered their belongings.

“Gentlemen.” My mother said, her voice harsh and cold like the wind outside. Her brows set in a low glair as she looked them up and down. “I am still your queen, you do not get to control everything. It’s clear you’ve made your choice, but when it happens. That is my choice. She is my daughter. I choose when she goes with the witcher. I do not know when that will be but it will be after her sister’s betrothal. If you have an issue with that, find a new court to control.” the five men looked at her, then each other before nodding and walking out of the room silently.

My mother’s hands held my arms as she dragged me into her chest. My sister came up to us both, her hands wrapping around both my mother and me I. her head resting on my shoulder. Wrapping one arm around her and one around my mother, I let my fear fall. My fear came out in silent sobs. My shoulders shook, my eyes clouding as I stared at the wall behind my sister. The tears pooled down my face.

My mother pulled back, one hand on each of my cheeks, her fingers brushing my tears away.

“You will be the first female witcher to ever be. You will make history.” my shoulders started to shake more violently as I cried more. The impending end of my life is on the horizon. My mother’s denial was just to help her cope, but we both knew how it would end.

“Mum...we both know what will happen to me...I won’t survive it.” my voice was broken as I spoke caving as I cried. Her fingers moved faster to wipe my tears as she shushed me. My sister’s hands are on my arms and back.

“Even if that’s the case, it won’t be for at least another month. Live your life for the next month the way you want to, no regrets,-”

“No hesitations.” I interrupted her, a small smile tugging at my lips. Her eyes softened at me. She leaned in placing a soft kiss on my forehead.

“You can do this Ina. You are the Lioness Cub. If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

#henry cavill x yn #henry cavill x oc #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill imagine #geralt imagine #geralt smut #geralt x reader #geralt of rivera #witcher geralt #geralt fanart #geralt x oc #geralt of rivia #geralt fanfic #geralt of rivia x oc #geralt x Ina #Geralt of rivia #witcher jaskier #witcher yennefer #witcher fic #witcher oc #witcher Ina #queen calanthe #pavetta #Ina #Ina Of Cintra #Cintra #witcher fanfiction #witcher ciri #witcher netflix

[razorblade180]

Actor AU 3

The previous one<-

Penny:*dancing on set*

Nora:Someone seems happy.

Penny:🎶First episode I don’t have to wear props! 🎶 This is so liberating!

Nora:You read the script right?

Penny:Just let me vibe!

xxxx

Neo:*hanging off ledge*

Cinder:.....Long live queen. *pushes her off*

Ruby:Yo! Let’s add a lion king character!

Director:No!

xxxx

Ironwood,Broadcasting:.....

Everyone:.....

Ironwood:*leans it closely* You have one hour...or I poison Gotham Harbor.

Yang:Pay up Weiss! I told you he’d say it!

Weiss:Damn it!

Ruby:*laughing hysterically.

xxxx

Adam:*sips tea* Now you’re probably wondering why I’m on set for V8 when I have not scene or relevance. The answer is simple.

Neo:*hits Yang of the edge*

Blake:Yaaaaang-

*faint laughing offset*

Blake.....*snickers* You asshole, I was in the zone!

Adam:I’m just adding to the tension!

Yang:*hanging from harness* You should’ve yelled “Lionized!!!!!”

Adam:Oh that would’ve been great!

Blake:You two are the worst!

xxxx

Right after Cinder stabs Penny

Jaune:Penny!!!! H-Hold on!

Penny:J-Jaune? I don’t...I don’t feel so g-good... hehe, this...*tearing up* this really hurts...

Jaune:*crying* Don’t speak! My semblance, I’ll...I

Penny:No...don’t. No time, but....there’s still something I need you t-to do. Cinder...can’t get the power and the relics. *reaches for blade*

Jaune:W-What?! No, I....I can’t-

Penny:It’s okay Jaune. *smiles* Everything is...gonna be okay.

Jaune:*raising bl-

Director:Cut!

Jaune:Huh?

Penny:Hmm? *sits up* Oh no, did I miss a line?

Director:*points to Cinder*

They turn to see Weiss comforting the the woman with a hug while trying not to laugh at the situation.

Penny:What happened!?

Weiss:She’s crying over the scene!

Penny:What!? *runs over*

Cinder:I am so sorry I ruined take! You were doing so well. Too well! Ugh, god damnit!

Penny:Awww you know I’m fine right? Come here! *hugs her*

Weiss:Cinder fall everyone, the biggest teddy bear around. *wipping eyes*

Jaune:You’re crying too!?

Weiss:I am the second biggest teddy bear around.

xxxx

Jaune:We have to go!!!

Winter:*points at Cinder*....Sleep with one eye open.

Director:Cut! Why!?

Cinder:Hahahaha!

Winter:I couldn’t help myself.

Director:Be angry!

Bloop!

Winter:*glares* The next time I see you I swear, I’ll have your head!

Director:Less angry!

Cinder:That one actually kinda scared me. Haha geez, Winter giving chills!

Bloop!

Winter:Can I curse?

Director:We’re already at the limit before we’d have change ratings.

Winter:Dang it! I just one F bomb!

Director:We’ll put it the gag reel.

Bloop!

Jaune:We need to go!

Winter: Tsk, *points sword* You are going to pay for everything you’ve done! So watch you fucking back...

Director:Happy?

Winter:*grinning* Yeah that felt great!

xxxxx

Bomb starts sliding slowly.

Qrow:*clenches Clover’s pin*

Bomb falls off plan set

.....

Vine and Elm:.....

Harriet:Well...boom! I guess!? For the love of- *face palms*

Qrow:....Uhhh I haha, I think hahaha- hahaha! Can we maybe tilt the plan a little less!? Oh boy! I guess someone should’ve grabbed that.

Harriet:You know what, can we keep this ending!?

Robyn: Rename the whole episode haha. “Adults watch bomb slowly fall”

Vine:Okay but I like how we’re all just waiting for it to stop, and then just tips right over! The moment it started moving I knew it was going way too fast!

Elm:Mission failed everyone. We’ll get em next time.

xxxxx

Interviewer:How do you think fans will react to this finale?

Penny:Well I can’t spoil anything for obvious reasons but I hope it resonates well. It’s fun having my character be around for a finale for once, and with so many other roles she doesn’t get interact with much. It’s been really fun.

Interviewer:Oh yeah? Who’s been best to work with?

Penny:Oooo that’s tough. My cousin, Nora, she’s been fun to interact with this volume. But uhhh I think I’ll give it to Jaune. We don’t have many scenes overall together but...it’s hard explain. I feel like between my character and his, there’s this kinda mutal headspace they have for their friends. If I had to pick a person I would say Jaune would have the ability to open up Penny in a way nobody else could.

Interviewing:Interesting, well I hope you both get more interactions and that this finale debuts well.

Penny:Thank you!

xxxxx

Winter:*dragging Ironwood off*

Emerald:....Wait, I know I do illusions, but how did the Ironwood not hear or feel the wind coming from an airship several feet away? I kicked up dirt and alerted Amber in volume 3.

Director:....Do we have time to rewri- no? Okay... just don’t think about it!

xxxxx

Nora:Someone cut the signal!

Watts: *playing Galaga* Hehehe all according to plan.

Neo:Change the tab! It’s- we see it in camera! Haha!

Watts:*strokes mustache* I know. That’s how genius I am. Cracking codes and high-scores! Muhahaha!

xxxx

Ruby:Fun fact, we have two Hound costumes. One where he’s mainly doglike and the other when he’s beating up people. But I you wonder who’s playing him under all that? *takes mask off*

Cardin:Sup.

Ruby:Forever a bully, even behind the set.

Cardin:Pfft am not.

Penny:You had a laugh tossing me!

Cardin:You don’t count, you’re family!

Penny:Ah!?

xxxxxx

Yang:*holding camera* Pssst!

Ren:*sipping coffee*???

Yang:Ready for our fight in the snow?

Ren:I can’t feel my toes! I’m gonna yell at you and then walk away.

Yang:I’ll mess up so we’ll stay here longer.

Ren:Yang! We can have a real fight in the snow right now!

Yang:Heheh, kidding. Mostly.

xxxxx

Ruby:Blake have you heard of Among Us?

Blake:Wh-what?

Ruby:Among Us. You gotta do tasks without an imposter killing you. I only bring it up because we’re rebooting the power. Someone always dies in electrical.

Blake:Ruby this is real life. Besides this way more Resident Evil, but with no- Tyrant!

Hound:*busts through window*

Ruby:Wny is it always electrical!!!?

xxxxx

Ironwood:*doing shirtless pull-ups*

Ozpin:He’s getting ready for his fight scenes. Trying to look winded but a little bulkier in the moment.

Winter:*watching Ironwood*

Ozpin:*snickering* Winter is trying to get into the mindset of having to a play a character who has to go against all that. The agony of fighting someone you looked at for so long.

Winter:You can call it like it is. I’m gawking a little.

Ozpin:She’s gawking a little.

xxxxx

Hazel:*grabs Salem*

Salem:*squeezing his biceps* Its like my entire torso. You eat a bear for breakfast?

Hazel:Oh my god.

Salem:You know this isn’t the worst way to go out. I had a good run. At least you hold me, unlike Ozma! Why didn’t you hold me like this!?

Hazel:You’re so ridiculous.

xxxxx

Set crew adjusting lighting in manor. All but one stays on.

Oscar and Penny:*waltzing underneath it*

Nora:...I like how on or off camera I personally lose the dating game while another redhead wins.

Ozpin:Which pair you talking about?

Nora:Huh?

Yang and Adam:*cracking jokes*

Nora:This is nonsense! Where’s Jaune!?

Weiss:Food run with Ruby.

Nora:Aaaaaggghhh!

#rwby #actor au #jaune arc #ruby rose #weiss schnee #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #lie ren #rwby volume 8 #qrow branwen #robyn hill #nora valkyrie #cinder fall #penny polendina #rwby au #neo politan #winter schnee #james ironwood #harriet bree #adam taurus