#or very delightfully enjoy the chaos that is my writing

[satiricaily]

rereading some of the jwds fics ive written and it's making me terribly ache for that person in me to resurface and just. resume writing. except everything in life (esp academics) have been draining me so much im always just too tired to do anything else especially writing

#it's so sad i rlly do miss the rush of writing and rereading wtvr i wrote and either intensely hating it #or very delightfully enjoy the chaos that is my writing #but lately nothing i've written stuck it's sad #also went thru the comments under my fics and the long ass paragraphs my friends have left is WILDDD #hard to believe my writing had once upon a time instigated such responses #but oh well #ill get back to it one day i guess #personal

[sailxrmxrs]

back in may i brainrotted with friends over some of the infinite blue boys under the mistletoe and now that the holiday season is upon us what better way to celebrate than by indulging in it once more? especially after the mistletoe thoughts in the server too my brain is WHIRRING. that being said i've only ever seen mistletoe once before and it was on a uni night out at the su so not quite the wholesome romance vibes we're going for here. expect something a tad softer for today tonight at least maybe we get spicy another day. this one's the first of multiple christmas themed hcs rattling in my brain so get ready for more snow, more presents, and even more softness. the premise for this one is infinite blue on holiday!! mc and the boys are staying in a cosy cabin out in the middle of nowhere, there's a thick layer of snow outside and perhaps a sprig of mistletoe or two fixed to the door frame. adorable scenarios ensue. enjoy!!

♡ leo ♡

It was the first night in the cabin and the holiday excitement was well under way. There was an array of decorations adorning the walls, strings of lights casting the living room in a warm golden hue to fight against the biting nip of winter's chill. The place looked so delightfully cosy, a fireplace crackling in the corner and arrays of blankets strewn over the furnishings. It was the embodiment of comfort, perfectly designed to enjoy with the others in a much-needed break from regular life. As night fast approached, everyone had begun to settle in to their rooms, some unpacking while others abandoned their things in favour of securing the comfiest seat with the best view of the tv screen. There was a particular energy that had descended upon the cabin, as though electricity was cracking from room to room, bringing with it anticipation for what was to come. You were resting in your room, tired from the arduous task of unpacking when a knock sounded at the door. Too comfortable to move, you called out for them to come in. Leo's face peered from behind the door, his hat peeking out before his face.

"The guys are ordering pizza if you're hungry?"

"Yes. But too comfy."

Leo laughed, making his way over to perch next to you. "Am I going to have to carry you there?"

"A tempting offer, but no. Pull me up though?" You held out a hand for Leo to take hold of, letting him help you onto your feet. Once you were upright again, Leo swung your arms back and forth for a moment, smiling at the raising of your eyebrow. He chuckled, one hand still holding onto yours as he made for the open door and led you down the hall. In the living room, Brooklyn and Rory were trying to write everyone's pizza orders while Tobias fought to have pineapple on at least one. It was somewhat of a pointless battle, given that he was the only one with such a strong opinion but it was still amusing regardless. Brooklyn's notes were meticulous as he checked through everyone's orders before leaving it to Rory to call up and order the food. A quiet settled over the room, Alexei reaching for the tv remote. You contemplated returning to your room for a quick nap to stave off some of the lingering tiredness until Milo spoke up.

"You two know you're stood right under some mistletoe, right?" Milo asked, leaning back in his seat to watch your faces shift in realisation. Clearly he was satisfied with what he saw, judging by the way his lips quirked into a sly smile. Chaos descended upon the room, attention on you and Leo, the food order forgotten. Tobias started chanting for the two of you to kiss while Rory begged for you to restore some peace and finally just kiss each other. Brooklyn and Alexei were beaming at it all, quietly smiling with stars in their eyes at the romance movie scene they were watching play out right before their very eyes.

You felt Leo's hand twitch in yours, a reminder that he was still holding onto you even amongst the clamour. He cleared his throat, turning to you with abject embarrassment. "Should we maybe go somewhere a little more private?"

"Yeah go make out somewhere else so you don't spoil our appetites," Tobias playfully called out. "Don't be gone too long or I'm eating your share of the food." With a roll of his eyes, Leo nodded in the direction of your rooms and walked, pointedly ignoring the calls and whistles from the others.

"Sorry about that. Seems like the vacation's got them feeling a little bolder than usual." Leo tried to laugh it off, those it was evident in his cheeks that there was something more hidden there.

You shook your head. "It's fine. All part of the festive season, right?"

"Right." Leo paused, shuffling on his feet as he tried to gather his thoughts together. "You know we don't have to. I don't want you doing anything you're not comfortable with. Don't let the others make you feel like you have to."

"I'm okay. As long as they're not watching anyway."

Leo glanced back down the hallway, turning back with a thumbs up. "Coast is clear. But really, we don't have to—"

"Are you deflecting there, Leo? It's fine if you are but I—"

"No! No! That's not it! I do want to. Kiss you, that is. God I'm making this weird, aren't I?"

Shaking your head, you took Leo's hands in yours, feeling the ever so slight tremor of nerves coming from the contact. "Not at all," you whispered against his lips, finally closing the gap. Leo responded instinctively, as though this were second nature to him. Until he pulled back abruptly.

"Wait. It's not the same without the mistletoe." He looked around frantically, spotting a loose sprig that had fallen to the floor and retrieving it. He held it over his head, grinning. "There we go." The second kiss was just as magical as the first, and all the others that followed.

♡ milo ♡

Milo is not one for tradition, rolling his eyes at the sight of the mistletoe hanging above the door frame. Of course someone had the bright idea to hang it up there. He was adamant that he wanted nothing to do with any of it which then led to days of dodging Tobias or Leo whenever they passed by him through the door, knowing they'd take any opportunity to bother him with clamours of how you can't just break the rules like that. Milo fully intended to break the rules like that. He didn't care how much the others might complain about his lack of festive cheer, just as long as he didn't have to partake. Although, that being said, Milo wouldn't have minded if it were you collaring him under the mistletoe. Not that he was going to admit it any time soon, but he didn't hate the idea quite so much when you were the subject. Still, regardless of his affections he wasn't going to rescind his comments of uninterest. There would be no end of jokes and lighthearted remarks about how Milo cared about you more than anyone else, that he was showing clear favouritism. They'd be completely accurate accusations to make, of course, but Milo wasn't planning on becoming such an easy target like that.

So he abandoned all thoughts of taking your hands in his under the mistletoe and kissing you until he was almost breathless. he definitely did not ponder the thought when he laid in bed awake that night, sleep eluding him. No matter how he twisted and turned under the sheets, Milo just couldn't drift asleep. So he dragged himself out of the warmth in search of a hot cup of tea and honey to soothe his restlessness. Whether the remedy would actually work or not, he wasn't sure, but Brooklyn seemed to swear by the late night drink so there must be some kernel of truth floating in it. He quietly padded down the hallway, careful to preserve the silence that consumed the cabin. The lights were all off, bathing the cabin in cold darkness that not even the distant pearlescent glow of the moon could illuminate. It took all of Milo's concentration to not bump into any obstacles that he could've sworn weren't there before. In his intense focus, Milo couldn't see the moving shadow that was heading in his direction until it slammed straight into him, a small gasp coming from the other victim of the collision.

Now that he was close enough, Milo could just make out the sight of your briefly scared features. You were carrying a glass of water, though most of it was now either on the floor or soaking through your shirt.

"Ah, shit sorry I can barely see in this light," Milo whispered, leaning past you to reach for a towel sitting on the kitchen counter. It was rare for you to be so close to Milo, in particular alone, and so you couldn't help the quickening pace of your heart. If anything, you were at least grateful for the low light to hide the evidence of his effect on you. He reached a hand to guide you toward him, the other blotting with the towel where the water had spilt.

A nervous laugh escaped your lips. "I can dry myself off it's fine."

"I bumped into you it's only fair I fix it, isn't it?" Milo wasn't giving you any leverage in the situation, maintaining his hold on your arm. Despite your rapid heartbeat, the gesture was rather nice. Until, at least, it dawned on you exactly which doorway the both of you were stood under. It was the exact doorway Milo had been avoiding like the plague whenever anyone else walked underneath it while he was close by.

"Why do you look like that it's only a bit of water. Ah. Right." It seemed the realisation had also dawned on Milo as he glanced up at the door frame. He sighed, returning the towel to its spot on the counter. "You know we don't have to do it, right? The others aren't watching so no one has to know if you break the rules. It's fine."

Your voice is quiet, eyes looking anywhere but at Milo. "I mean, I'm not opposed to it."

Milo's eyes widened. It was ever so rare for him to be caught off guard like this and yet here you were, managing to do just that. But even in his surprise, Milo did not wish to discard the opportunity at hand as he reached to take your face in his hands, pressing his lips to yours in what he intended to be a swift and subtle move. But one taste of your lips on his sent Milo's mind in a dizzying spiral. Was this really what he'd been missing out on in all this time of knowing you? Suddenly all his disdain and admonishing for the tradition have been thrown onto the embers of the log fire still leaving a faint warmth in the room that hugged you both. All he can bear to think of in that moment is you and how you leaned against him, deepening the kiss with each second that passed.

"Maybe mistletoe isn't quite so bad after all."

♡ rory ♡

Ever since he spotted Tobias gleefully snickering to himself as he put up an abundance of mistletoe, Rory was counting down the days until he was free. It wasn't that he hated the group excursion nor their company, but rather he didn't particularly care for certain romantic traditions that Tobias seemed more than excited to partake in. Especially given the others' insistence on making not-so-subtle hints about who Rory should kiss under the mistletoe. No matter how many times Rory insisted that he didn't want to kiss anyone, under mistletoe or otherwise, they wouldn't let up. Admittedly, a small part of him was lying when he said he didn't have any interest in the idea. After all, he was a romance reader, though he would never dare to share the fact with anyone else, and as such his mind had often wandered while thinking of all kinds of sweet festive traditions to partake in with a loved one. Whether Rory actually wanted to indulge or not wasn't important, given the fact he couldn't when there were five other people around to witness it happen. Catching a moment alone with you would be increasingly difficult as the week continued, and Rory wasn't planning to subject himself, or you for that matter, to the inevitable teasing should anyone witness it.

As it turned out, the opportunity to catch a moment alone with you came much sooner than Rory anticipated. Milo, Brooklyn, and Alexei were to go out to stock up some food for the kitchen and upon hearing of their plans, Leo and Tobias ran to join them. You declined their offer in favour of taking a little nap whilst Rory just lifted the book he'd been attempting to focus on; he'd rather underestimated his ability to read when there were six other people about the place. With just you for company, Rory knew he could relax in peace. That was, until instead of returning to your room to nap, you joined him on the sofa. You laid on the soft cushioning, feet using Rory's thighs as a rest.

"Comfortable, are we?" He asked, throwing the blanket beside him at your face. In spite of all the pushing Rory liked to do, he was soft. Especially with you. And you knew that more than anyone. Of course you'd never bring it up to him, but you were acutely aware of how much nicer Rory always seemed to be around you. He could be mid argument with someone else but would immediately find his voice going quieter and softening the moment you spoke to him. It was sweet, even if he'd never admit to it himself.

"Incredibly so. What are you reading, by the way?"

"Nothing special. Just something I found in the other room." Rory was usually never this evasive when talking about his books. Unless he had a reason to be embarrassed about them.

"Avoiding the question. Interesting. Guess I'll have to just find out myself, hm?" Before Rory could react or figure out your next move, you lunged forward to grab the book out of Rory's hands. You were careful to keep a thumb in his page so as not to anger him too much, but quickly bounded off with it in hand. Rory ran after you, knowing his calls to give it back were completely pointless. He followed you into the hallway, getting close enough to grab your wrist and cage you against the wall. The arm in his grasp was held up to the wall while the hand that still clutched his book remained free. But in the excitement of it all, you were suddenly very aware of how close Rory was, his breathing slightly laboured from the exertion of running after you. Neither of you moved, too busy staring each other down. The book in your hand fell to the floor with a resounding thud, pulling you from Rory's captivating gaze for a few short moments. It was in that time you noticed the spare mistletoe sitting atop the bookshelf next to you. Rory glanced over, quickly taking note before he looked back at your face, a thumb and forefinger catching your chin and guiding it so you had no choice but to face him again.

Rory leaned impossibly close, his nose almost brushing against yours as he whispered, "I think next to mistletoe counts under the rules, don't you?"

"It'd be remiss for us to break the rules." Then Rory captured you in a kiss. There was something urgent in the way you both reacted to one another. Each brush of his fingertips along the skin of your arm sent shivers down your spine, a tingling energy passing through every inch of your body. Rory let the hand that held your wrist against the wall fall to your neck, his touch featherlight as though you might break if he used any small amount of pressure. His other hand moved to brace himself on the wall, fearing his knees might buckle from the way you tangled your fingers in his flame red hair. Pulling back to catch your brain, you rested your forehead against Rory's. As you opened your eyes, the sight of his blushing face met yours, the flush of colour reaching even his ears.

Rory cleared his throat, taking a step back from the wall. "Yes. Well. Anyway." He walked back in the direction of the living room, the book a long-forgotten entity as it lay on the floor. by your feet. Giggling to yourself, you leaned down to pick it up, sliding it into Rory's hands with a swift kiss to his cheek as you bounded back over to the sofa, heart bursting with the magic of a dozen fairy tales.

♡ alexei ♡

When you set eyes on the mistletoe adorning the doorways, a nervous dread sunk to the pit of your stomach. You'd never really paid much mind to the tradition before but something about the whole atmosphere surrounding the group trip during winter had your senses tingling with anticipation. Those nerves were only made worse by Alexei's oblivious excitement. His eyes sparkled under the glowing christmas lights as everyone began to settle in to the cosy new living quarters for the next week. What you weren't aware of, however, was how meticulously orchestrated the decor had been. Brooklyn and Tobias had specifically requested for mistletoe to be included among all the decorations that filled each room. Both were determined for this to be the occasion where you and Alexei finally stopped skirting around the very obvious feelings you harboured for one another. Brooklyn as the group's primary lover of all things romance adjacent and Tobias as the resident agent of mischief were a recipe for chaos of the most dangerous kind. One could never truly predict what they had planned between them, and this trip was no exception.

One evening a few days after arriving, everyone had gathered to pick out a christmas movie to watch together. It was mostly just Leo debating with Milo over whether or not Elf was overrated—it had reached a point where they'd both forgotten the core argument and so now it'd devolved into an incoherent back-and-forth. The sight was rather entertaining, especially since Rory was sat between them looking as though he wanted nothing more than to be suddenly whisked away anywhere but that spot on the sofa. You were sat stop some cushions scattered about the floor, blankets strewn between, peacefully observing all that was occurring. Tobias was beside you, his back against the sofa where Alexei was sitting. Brooklyn was off in the kitchen getting himself a drink when he called out for some help. You and Alexei were the only two to get up and head toward the kitchen door, the others unable to hear him over Leo and Milo's emphatic debate. Besides Tobias, that was, who was far too comfortable to consider moving even an inch.

"Need a hand with something?" You asked, pausing in the doorway to watch Brooklyn. Alexei was quietly looking up, admiring the floral decorations that embellished the threshold. Noticing his distracted state, you followed Alexei's line of sight to the white mistletoe. Ah. Your cheeks warmed at the realisation that the both of you were stood beneath it. Brooklyn was clearly pleased with himself judging by the smirk that he tried to hide unsuccessfully behind his glass of water.

"Did you know there's all kinds of species of mistletoe? Depending on the continent there's all kinds of slight variations between them that changes the number of leaves or even their texture—wait, why are you so red? Do you have a fever?" Alexei cut his energetic ramble short upon noticing the tinge of pink that spread across your cheeks. He held the back of his hand to your forehead feeling the blossoming warmth that only grew with his physical touch. If you'd been flustered before at the sight of the mistletoe, this was a whole other level of discomposed nervousness.

"You feel pretty warm. Do you want to lay down? I can get you some water?" It was cute how much Alexei was worrying over your wellbeing, even if it was a little misguided.

"Oh my god they're not sick, Alexei," Tobias shouted from across the room. "It's the mistletoe so leave the science lesson for later and just kiss them!"

Now came the time for Alexei's cheeks to flush with warmth at Tobias' direct words. It seemed to only just dawn upon him the more socially understood meaning of mistletoe. He nervously looked over to you seeking some sort of confirmation that Tobias was right and you weren't sick at all. Upon your faint nod confirming that you were quiet because you had, in fact, been sequestered underneath the mistletoe with Alexei. The smug look shared between Brooklyn and Tobias hadn't escaped your notice, prompting a mental note to have strong words with the both of them later once Alexei was out of earshot. There was no escape for either of you, knowing that no matter what you tried there'd be some form of teasing comment poking fun at your evasiveness.

Alexei cleared his throat, eyes darting around until they finally settled on you. His fingers reached for yours, a tentative question hovering in the air like waves of electricity. "Is this okay?" He asks, his voice quiet even now that Milo and Leo's debate had died down to bear witness to the scene before them.

You nod despite the warmth that still flamed in your face as you held Alexei's gaze. If you looked anywhere near any of the others there was no doubt you'd just crumble under the attention. Judging by Alexei's own pinkish face, he was likely feeling the exact same way. Still, he did not back down and instead leaned in for a kiss almost as soft as himself. It was fleeting. Gentle. But it was all you needed in that moment. His hands toyed with yours, a fumbling mess of extremities as Tobias and Leo let out exaggerated cheers, the former playfully chastising the both of you for taking so long to make such a move. But despite the embarrassment that flooded over both you and Alexei, it could never override the intense wave of happiness that crashed against it—even if it did come at the cost of having your first kiss with Alexei in direct view of the whole group.

♡ brooklyn ♡

Brooklyn is so in love with love that the instant he sees the mistletoe he's determined to craft the most picture-perfect scene fresh from a romantic novel. There are few things in the world he adores more than you, and so he is set on creating only beautiful memories in the cabin, mistletoe traditions very much included. In fact he is so set on the moment being perfect that you grow almost concerned by the slight distance. During game nights there is always some part of him that isn't fully focused, attention drifting to the myriad of thoughts swirling in his mind's eye. Whenever you asked if he was okay, or inquired as to what he was thinking about, Brooklyn answered with his usual charming smile that he was feeling excellent. Usually when Brooklyn evaded such questions it meant he had some sort of plan slowly unfolding as he sat and pondered during his waking hours. Knowing there was little you could do to find out more, you left Brooklyn to his own devices; he always confided in you when he was ready so you knew that whatever it was occupying his thoughts would soon be revealed in some manner of speaking.

One afternoon you and Brooklyn were lounging in a private corner of the cabin, distant sounds of Leo, Alexei, and Tobias laughing together coming from down the hallway. Brooklyn had a book in hand, one that you'd bought him recently after seeing the beautiful leather volume in a small bookshop on your way home from work one evening. Your feet lay in his lap as you fought the urge to drift asleep. Brooklyn's fingers traced soothing patterns on your legs, the rhythmic feel lulling you closer to your inevitable slumber.

"Ah, ah. No sleeping yet. Otherwise you'll be awake all night, my dear," Brooklyn spoke, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you both. He gently tapped your calf, realising his absentminded ministrations were partly to blame for your sleepy state.

"Just five minutes," came your reply, the words bleeding into one another as you struggled to remain coherent.

"Five minutes will become ten, then fifteen, until suddenly you've slept for two hours. Come on, up you get." Brooklyn moved your feet from his lap, hands reaching to pull you up with him. His chuckle reverberated in the air as you let your body go limp while he carefully dragged you to your feet.

"Two hours sleep sounds great right now," you replied, rubbing at the dull ache of tiredness lingering in your eyes.

Brooklyn smiled, his hands sitting on your waist while he admired every line and crevice of your face. "But then I'd be ever so lonely without someone to talk to."

"Then you should sleep too." Stifling a yawn, you leaned into Brooklyn's chest for a few moments of bliss. You knew napping would only ruin your sleep later but the temptation was oh-so-strong. Especially when Brooklyn's company was so undeniably calming. The man could simply be breathing and it'd put you at ease no matter what—he just had that effect on people.

"I think I'll pass on that one, darling. After all, if we were to sleep now then who's to say when we'd find another opportunity to kiss under the mistletoe?"

Your eyebrows furrowed. "Hm? What mistletoe?"

"Look up there." Brooklyn nodded in the direction of the door where, lo and behold, some mistletoe decorated the door frame. "You know how much I adore traditions, especially of the romantic variety. Would you do me the honour?"

"How could I ever turn down such a request?" You both laughed in unison at the overly formal wording, something you would frequently do when speaking, much to Tobias' chagrin; whenever he overheard it Tobias would loudly proclaim how the interactions made him cringe. His complaints, however, were never as serious as he tried to make them sound nor did they deter you or Brooklyn from speaking in such a manner. If anything, his reactions only encouraged the both of you to speak as outrageously as possible.

Brooklyn's features cooled into a relaxed smile as his grip on your waist tightened ever so slightly, pulling you close against him while his other hand reached to tangle in your hair. He angled your face to mold with his perfectly as though it was made for him and him alone. Brooklyn let you set the pace, following your lead perfectly under the warm glow of the christmas lights that adorned the walls. The slow movement of his thumb against your waist was dizzying in all the best ways. His lips were delightfully soft, ever the gentleman as he paused to gaze fondly upon your face with a look of wonder decorating his features before he left another electrifying kiss to your lips. Suddenly you felt eternally grateful toward whoever had hung that mistletoe.

♡ tobias ♡

Upon decorating the cabin together for the festive season, it had been Tobias' brilliant idea to introduce mistletoe into the decor. Much to the chagrin of the others, Tobias ignored all complaints as he secured the flower above the doorway into the living room. He'd looked incredibly proud of himself as he met your gaze across the room. The man was on a mission to catch you off guard and indulge in the tradition, no matter how loud the others might object each time he lamented the lack of festive spirit. Every time you ventured to find something to eat or grab a glass of water you were met with the sight of Tobias leaning against the doorframe gazing wistfully up at the mistletoe. He'd pretend not to notice your presence, letting out a dramatic sigh before dragging his eyes over to you and offering the most poorly acted look of surprise you'd ever seen. Then would come the beckoning hand in an attempt to lure you over.

"Isn't it painfully cold today? Oh how I crave the warmth and affection of the love of my life," he would call out, waiting expectantly for you to take his hand. Every time you'd laugh and evade his grasp, revelling in his pout as he whined over the lack of attention. Tobias loved to act all confident but, in reality, he was completely and utterly soft at heart—not that he'd ever let the others see that side of him, of course. Tobias' softest moments were all the more special because they were only for you. And it only made his more daring advances all the more entertaining, knowing exactly how easily he crumbled whenever you returned his amorous teasing in the comfort of your privacy.

Tonight was no different. You were sat between Rory and Milo watching a movie while Brooklyn and Leo were attempting to cook. Alexei was off taking a little nap and Tobias was lingering beneath the mistletoe with his eyes on the tv for now, though he wasn't really watching. The night was calm and surprisingly quiet given the usual high energy that the cabin's residents brought with them. But it was nice. Calming, even, to be sat in pleasant quiet with just the sounds of food being prepared and the tv buzzing along. Though you might have liked it more with Tobias sitting at your side and sharing the blanket that kept you cosy. The man in question was still quietly leaning against the door frame, now watching on as Leo followed Brooklyn's instructions for the meal. Feeling a pang of thirst strike, you rose from your seat, already missing the warmth of your blanket.

Sensing the perfect opportunity for another romantic endeavour, Tobias straightened and moved to block the doorway, his face an exquisite artwork of teasing mischief. "Hello, you."

It was hard to even pretend to be mad at him. "Hi. Did you know you make an excellent wall?" You asked, unable to keep yourself from smiling as he leaned closer.

"No entry, I'm afraid. Can't have you disturbing the chefs. Unless you pay the toll." His face was close enough to yours that he could've easily kissed you if he wanted, but for Tobias the playful exchange built up a sense of tension that he found intoxicating. The light-hearted push-and-pull is what had made him so enamoured by you in the first place.

Nodding along, you humoured Tobias' bit. "I see. Do tell what this mysterious toll is."

"Oh, it is but a mere kiss beneath the mistletoe. It's been so terribly long since someone indulged me in the classic christmas tradition, you know?"

"Funnily enough, we did know. Since you always manage to bring it up," Rory called out from the sofa, his eyes not leaving his phone screen.

Tobias' lazy smile twisted into a frustrated pout at the interruption, now focusing his attention on the redhead. "Some of us are trying to live out their rom-com dreams here, Rory."

"Clearly. So do it. Go on, kiss them. Right now. So the rest of us can go on without hearing you whine about how much you want to kiss them."

Tobias faltered at Rory's direct callout, mouth slightly agape as he looked back at you. There was apprehension in his face, nerves suddenly flooding his system when you quirked an eyebrow inviting him to follow through on Rory's provocation. Tobias contemplates his options, knowing he might never live it down if he doesn't seize the opportunity laid out in front of him and so, puffing out his chest just a little, his face sets into one of determination.

"Fine. I will." Then Tobias' hands are cupping your cheeks, warm to the touch as he leans in ever closer. Tobias pauses, checking that this is what you want before closing that too-far gap. And suddenly you're kissing beneath the mistletoe. The world falls silent, everything and everyone reduced to nothing as Tobias consumes each and every thought trapped inside your head. His lips are soft and exploratory, eager to keep the exchange somewhat reserved given the public display you were putting on. Tobias pulled back with the gentlest of nips to your bottom lip, his hesitant shyness dissipating to reveal a raging fire in his eyes. He moves to take your lips once more before Milo groans for the two of you to 'get a room' before his appetite gets spoiled. Fuelled by sheer adoration and delight, Tobias doesn't care about the interruption, instead pulling you in close and engulfing you in his arms while his laugh chimes. His face is a beautiful shade of blush crimson as he slowly rocks you from side to story, pressing a kiss to your forehead and savouring every second of your embrace.

#infinite blue #infinite blue fanfic #infinite blue x reader #and so begins the christmas arc of my tumblr #how long will it last we shall see #yes i went back to the old brainrot from may to influence this bc past me had more braincells #i wish i remembered where all my other crumbs of brainrot are scattered bc my brain for sure does not remember 99% of it #ah well we vibe and continue on with the new brainrot #anna writes

[leogichidaa]

Where are the Evan Rosier Stan?!

Few and far between, I think, but they are around. I actually have a handful of Rosier fic recs right now, so I'll share some:

For RosierNoir (Evan/Regulus), I recommend Trials and Tribulations by @anemicc-royalty. It's a delightfully tragic story of Regulus' descent into madness and he's taking our boy Evan along with him for the ride.

Then there's The Cure by Fishielicious, which I've recced before. Instead of dying right away, Evan lingers and Regulus says a last goodbye.

And heck, I'll self-rec Mistaken for Strangers, even though Evan is dead the whole time (his presence is still very deeply felt). I'm working on a prequel rn where Evan is living and breathing and causing all sorts of chaos.

Because of this ask, I went looking and absolutely devoured this Snape/Rosier oneshot, Buried Roots by @yletylyf. It's dark and heart-breaking and oddly charming and a really interesting exploration of both characters.

He's a side character here, but I'm also really enjoying the way Evan is written in Stars Shine Darkly by @unspeakable3 (I'm only about halfway through, but all around recommend this highly)

@regulusarchieblack has also been known to ship RosierNoir and inspired my greatest piece of Rosier writing to date, Nose Goes

I must confess, while I enjoy writing for Evan and he intrigues me greatly (and I want his last name: Leo Rosier, can you imagine?), I can't even tell if I like the guy. He's kind of the worst, but so are most of my faves, so who even knows at this point.

#I hated him when I wrote MfS #stone cold hated him #but he's growing on me #and he's important to Regulus in my stories so #he's important to me by association #ask #anon ask #Evan Rosier #will the real Evan Rosier stans please stand up?

[tenshusuto]

//hey donna, resident shady shopkeeper mun who recently joined the fandom last year and has stolen my attention and love for your version of this madhatter. i love having you on my dash and you just know i've followed you on all my blogs -- at least the active ones i currently run lol. you are a breath of fresh air with this urahara guy and trust i've seen so many versions this past decade but i enjoy interacting with yours a lot because you keep that lighthearted, fun yet naughty aspect of him alive and you go out of your way to invade inboxes and troll ppl and we just love that sm xD do continue doing and maybe even up it a notch lol! and it's okay if you don't write as much. just you being around when you pop on is enough to brighten most anyone's day because your muse is most always up to no good and we enjoy that a lot. keep doing what you do and here's to more shenanigans this coming year! <33

Mims, Mims, Mims. Once again you let your chains lose to become absolute and heartwarming inbox sunshine. But sit back, I have a kind bouquet of words for you too. I noticed a recent spree of your lovely profiles lurking about and following but I gladly welcomed all of them with open arms. You're so open and friendly, and you love giving your characters revolutionary development through connections, that's what I see mostly with Starrk. It makes me evenly enjoy seeing you on my dash and participate in chaos or starting some of your own (even when Akon chose to be Kisuke's chronic pain of criticism xD and Rose with Visored lowkey roasting him with whole dating thing, I cried tbh), we all live for those foot in the mouth funny moments. I am generally looking forward to my working schedule improving, so I can write properly and make my time less content-premium. *Me, scratching chin and thinking about how to put it with explaining that I am in this fandom for quite a whiiiiiiiiile but because I am a very PRIVATE and secretive person who hardly ever reveals any Infos that including tag*

Now, then about my road with Kisuke - how should I say this ... it's complicated and longer than this blog says but I still kinda prefer to refer to it as an entirely fresh and new start simply because I liked the sound of as you say new Urahara (rather than almost a decade of trolling in my partners SLs) and to be honest this blog for Kisuke was never meant to go public. It was made for private aest. inventions, headcanons that should have served a different purpose and instead of CC attached to another platform. So, how this happened I have no ideas, something had to be in the air back then. However, I was delightfully surprised to receive a feedback echo that this atypical interpretation evoked interest to the point of actually getting interactions and an unexpecting amount of love. There's no greater joy for writer and a humble, morbid Lady — to hear that their dummy scribbles are appreciated. Thank you so much, you are loved, and may 2023 bring you a lot of happiness and joy! Happy New Year! <3

#mun stuff ; #positivity! #<333 #hangover typos 2023 ; #mun answers ; #ooc.

[tanyawritesstories]

Must Be the Whiskey | Jack Daniels x Reader

I got inspiration to write this from listening to a song of the same name. Though the lyrics had nothing to do with the idea I came up with 😂 a thank you to @scribbledghost for letting me tag them. I hope y'all enjoy! 🤠

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: fluff, dramatics, insinuations of sex, domesticity, light chaos

•••

“I cannot believe you did that!”

Jack was angry again. You had been joking but apparently he had taken it seriously.

“Hun, it’s not that big of a deal,” you said, still finding it funny, “It was just a joke.”

Jack took off his hat and tossed it on the nightstand next to your shared bed. “Well it wasn’t funny to me,” he argued. You made your way into the bathroom and began taking your makeup off. “You don’t flirt with another man while I’m sitting right next to you!”

You laughed, “Babe, I was not flirting you know that. I just wanted to try it.” You knew he wasn’t really mad, just annoyed and most likely he just wanted to fight with you.

“Well ya shouldn’t ‘ave, sugar. Now you got your old man riled up,” he replied. Jack ditched his jacket and his shoes, running his hands through his hair.

You giggled and stepped out of the bathroom, finding your fiance sitting on the end of the bed. “I can think of something to do with all that energy,” you hinted suggestively.

He pouted and looked at his lap. “I ain't in the mood.” You had to resist laughing at this grown man acting like a child over something so simple and innocent.

You kneeled in front of him and tilted his head up so his eyes met yours. "Jack, baby, it was only a drink."

"Yeah but it was the wrong drink, you should've gotten your usual, and you know it," he continued to pout. You smiled sympathetically, "I will from now on, I promise. Jim has got nothin' on you, cowboy."

Yes, Jack was angry because you had decided to get a Jim Beam instead of your usual Jack Daniels whiskey, at the bar. Ever since you met him three years ago, you hadn't drank any other whiskey except his namesake. You didn't know he would promptly flip his lid when you decided to try a different kind tonight. You were sure he was acting or playing up his anger for show. He was a very dramatic man. You realized just how much when he accused your liquid betrayal of being akin to unfaithfulness.

He sighed. "I just want you to know you hurt me, darlin'. Don't break a man's ego like that again, ya hear?" He smiled and booped your nose.

"Yes, sir," you winked. "Now, do I have to satisfy myself or do you still have all that energy?"

A devilish smirk came to his face and he hoisted you up to straddle his lap before falling backwards so you landed on his chest.

"Oof, yep, you still got the energy," you concluded. Jack kissed you like it was the last time he ever would, full of heat and passion. A kiss that was so very Jack.

"I love you, sweet pea. And I plan on showin' you just how much," he drawled. You giggled. It was going to be a long and delightfully tiring night.

~~~~

Jack woke up still feeling worn out. That's the price he paid for a good time with his lady. But it was worth it every time.

He begrudgingly lifted himself out of the comfy bed, sliding some sweatpants onto his bare body. He could hear you humming from the kitchen. Your mumbled melodies accompanied the smell of bacon and coffee, his favorites. He made his way into the kitchen, forgoing a shirt.

He found you exactly how he expected. You were standing at the stove stirring eggs in a pan, bacon was sizzling away on a different burner, and coffee was brewing on the other end of the counter. He watched you for a while, his eyes wandering up and down your body. You were wearing shorts and one of his shirts that was much too big on you. He approached quietly, wrapping his arms around your middle and resting his forehead on your shoulder.

“Morning, dear,” you greeted. You could barely hear his mumbled reply into your skin. “You hungry?” Jack nuzzled into your neck. “I don’t know, I had quite the feast last night, but I wouldn’t be opposed to a second helping,” he teased, nipping your neck and giving your ass a light squeeze. You giggled and tried to push his hands away from tickling you.

Jack loved hearing you laugh, it was one of his favorite sounds. He loved waking up to find you making him breakfast. There was something so domestic and peaceful about it. Sometimes he would sit and watch you, he found it fascinating how you could throw a few ingredients together and mold it into something completely different and delicious. He never got tired of watching you cook and bake. The only times he missed it was when you were called into work early or he left before you woke up. He smiled fondly at the memory of buying you an apron that said ‘kitchen wizard’ on it in big red letters, you always wore it when baking. Jack compared your baking to a form of art as complex and stunning as the canvas paintings you had strewn around the house.

You both worked at a reasonable time and were able to have breakfast together, chatting about the day's events and generally anything that came to mind. You and Jack parted ways with a kiss, Jack heading off to Statesman and you heading off to your day job.

~~~~

Jack got home before you and had been relaxing when he received a text from you asking him to come out into the driveway. He was confused but complied. He found you getting the groceries out of the trunk of your car.

“You need help there, sugar?” He asked.

“No. But I must prove something to you, Jack,” you said dramatically. Oh no. Jack knew that tone of voice, it was usually used to either tease him or make yourself sound like a dramatic theatre actor. In conclusion, it was never good, but always humorous, when you used that voice. “I have purchased something to prove to you how much I love you in a broad demonstration of questionable intellect,” you preached. Jack smiled and laughed. “What did you get, sweet pea. More lingerie? Because I haven’t gotten tired of the last set, ya know.”

“It’s worse,” you said. You reached into one of the bags and pulled out a bottle of Jim Beam whiskey. Holding it above your head, you took a few steps away from your car, standing not far away from Jack. “What are you doing with that?” He asked, only a little bit irked. “Allow me to demonstrate my love for you,” you announced, putting your other hand over your heart. At that, you released your grip on the bottle, sending it into the concrete with a loud smash, glass and liquor going everywhere.

Jack’s mouth dropped open. He wasn’t expecting you to do that. “Honey, what-”

“My love for you is no joke, Jack Daniels. I will love you till my dying day and will smash as many more bottles of that fowl name as I need to, should you ever doubt me.” You stood watching him, his reaction was funnier than you thought it would be, it had taken every ounce of self control in you to keep a straight face. You could feel your jeans were wet with alcohol and some bits of glass had caught in the bottom.

Jack sauntered over to you. “Darlin’, honey, sweet pea, love of my life,” he cupped your face in his hands, “Do you realize you just smashed a thirty dollar bottle of whiskey in our driveway?” You nodded, sincerity in your eyes. “Yes, I do realize. I wanted to prove to you that you are superior to anyone and everyone else, and I love you,” you beamed up at him. “You are truly somethin’ else,” he said, his smile warm and loving as he kissed your forehead. “Let’s clean this up and then have dinner.”

You helped Jack clean up the mess, sweeping the glass shards into a dustpan and washing away the liquid with a bucket of water. You made sure there was no more glass as you didn’t want any of it to get caught in the car tires. He helped you carry the groceries into the house and unpack them.

“I also got us actual drinks,” you said. Jack turned to see you holding a bottle of Jack Daniels in one hand and a bottle of Statesman in the other. “How much did you spend on whiskey tonight, angel?” He asked, amused. “Only about eighty bucks,” you answered. Jack once again took his time walking over to you, “Sometimes I think you’re worse than me.” You leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips. “You have to think about that? I thought it was obvious,” you sassed. “Well alright, little missy, do I have to teach you not to speak out of turn again tonight or are we going to have dinner,” Jack sassed right back. “As tempting as that sounds, I’m quite hungry,” you giggled. “No time to lose then, sunshine. Let’s get cookin’.”

#kingsman the golden circle #jack whiskey daniels #jack whiskey daniels x reader #pedro pascal

[gisellelx]

What are some of your favorite Carlward fics?

So there are three that you are likely to find me just idly re-reading. Where I’m working on something and I’m just like, “Nope, need to revisit that one.” I’ll go on a bit about them since there are only a handful.  Bittersweet Hurt by Minerva One

This was my first go-round at CarlWard and I love it to pieces. Even though I tread some of the same water in Patroclus Rising, it’s never not fresh. What I love about this is that she starts from the question I always feel is central: why Edward? It’s a question I’m never not trying to answer in my own work. Sometimes I’m in Carlisle’s POV, sometimes in Edward’s, currently in Bella’s, but it’s always about that to me. The saga is about that to me.  The emotion in this one is just pitch-fucking-perfect. The build is slow and hot, the inevitability that the two are going to come together and that Carlisle’s going to be the reason everything goes to pieces--it’s just amazing. It gets at the ways in which Carlisle is utterly inadequate, completely not ready for what he started, and it just strips both of them bare, figuratively and delightfully literally. It also is tight. I think a lot of fanfic benefits from being novella-length--long enough to let the writer stretch out a bit, but short enough it doesn’t leave a novice writer scrambling trying to find the next plot point. This is beautifully plotted and leaves me a little breathless each time. I actually haven’t re-read it in awhile and need to.  Intervention by AllTheOtherNamesAreUsed

Let’s take a left turn. Okay, so now here’s where people are either going to have to come along with me or throw me out, ha ha ha. I er, happen to headcanon that Carlisle, being a kind of uptight, workaholic, who feels like he has to be in control of everything all the time--six vampire children, the process of hiding his family, the lives of his patients--would seek catharsis, somewhere. He needs some way of being safe, of allowing his mind to blank with those he loves. So the fact that this fic, written for a kinkfest meme, also happens to begin with my other favorite Carlisle sex headcanon, which is that he enjoys Esme putting him into subspace, is icing on a really nice CarlWard cake. The middle of the fic (spoiler all the Cullens are poly) I can kind of take or leave--it’s an enjoyable read but I don’t love it the way I love the first and last two chapters. The final two chapters of this kinkfic are romantic, feral Edward/Carlisle. One of the things I love most about it is that she doesn’t back away from the paternal stuff. This is post-BD, and they are carefully re-aligning what it means for Edward to still very much be Carlisle’s son and yet for them to evolve that relationship a bit. There’s a line in there about Carlisle’s love giving Edward roots and Bella’s giving him wings that is just so right. 

Trouble Follows by LyricalKris

I am too much of a lover of the vamp world to enjoy AH much. To me, Twilight is indeed as a semi-viral tumblr post put it, the story of a loving adorable couple and their chaos vampire children. I literally lose track of the characters in AH fic; it’s not enjoyable for me to read. I’ve been friends with Kris for--gosh I guess over  a decade now and I forget when she told me I needed to look at Trouble but I finally did and whipped through the 2.333 books in the series in a couple days. As I wrote above, I hc Carlisle as a sub, so I wasn’t sure I could handle an AH with him as a dom. But it works. I link the second one because while erotic scenes are always fun, I find a good plot and character conflict sexier than anything else you can put down on the page. The first book is mostly sexytimes with a little growth sprinkled in, but in this, the second installment, there’s just such a lovely build of conflict around the two and between the two, and she sold me on a perfectly in-canon, non-vampire Carlisle and that’s a tall fucking order. 

These are all mutli-chaps. Three shorts I revisit with some regularity are 

Everything in its Right Place by Avioleta. Again, this is a really nice one dealing with Carlisle wrestling with his feelings for both Edward and Esme; it has some deliciously angsty parts and is brilliantly researched. 

Red Geraniums by Pastiche Pen. Also one of the few AHs I re-read. It’s actually William I like in this story. In fact, I don’t know if she ever named Carlisle’s father in it. His name is William, fight me. :) The coupling in this one is great but like Trouble, it’s the plot here that gets me. A man coming to grips with his sexuality after he’s already done some things he regrets. 

Not a Monster, My Love by dyly. I don’t even remember how I stumbled on this one. It’s less well-written than my brain will usually put up with (I try really hard not to be a writing snob, I promise but some things just pull me out of a story) but the H/C just really works in this short in a way that’s hot and beautiful at once.  So there are six. @edwardsmate4ever I suspect you’ve probably hit all of them before, but perhaps others haven’t. I am never not here for a good CarlWard rec, especially if it’s vamp, so feel free to hit my inbox with them. 

#carlisle cullen #edward cullen #carlisle x edward #carlward #fanfiction #recs #I'm wordy af and I refuse to apologize #I'm sorry I'm wordy af

[matchamorphosis]

𝑆𝑈𝑀𝑀𝐸𝑅 𝐻𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑆

𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑒𝑥𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒, 𝑖𝑓 𝑣𝑢𝑙𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑛’𝑡 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛 𝑏𝑜𝑡ℎ 𝑜𝑢𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑠?

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 || a lovely picnic on the beach is where you two lovers find yourselves although the faults and cracks of your relationship start to come to shore.

𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 || avenger!bucky barnes × [black//woc]fem!reader

𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒 || fluffy angst

𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 || 2.5K ➳ 𝑑𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡 || @firefly-graphics

𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 || 18+ sfw content; anxiety episode, depression mention, emotional and mental vulnerability, crying, unworthiness for love, this is just very angsty but I promise it does get better, minor dni

𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑠 || electric love by børns .  televised by hunny .  ease by troy sivan, broods

𝑤. 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒 || for @burninmatches 🎊🌺 happy very late birthday poppy bby! 🌺🎊 i do hope you enjoy this!

as the stressful elements of your work environment and his demanding job pull you apart throughout your relationship you two do not allow the tense faculties to disrupt your summer off.

the only summer vacation in years that you both have to yourselves.

so the blissful moments when the streams of dandelion yellow sun rays flowed through the cracks of your sheer curtains rested on your closed eyelids, you awoke blissfully.

body facing your lover fast asleep, naked bodies breathing in sync. legs twined together harmoniously, you feel the moments of happiness and peace rushing the blood through the crevices of your heart.

feeling alive and at ease in the best emotional way.

it is now that you spring up the mattress, you needed today to be magnificent— to be absolutely magical. to be memorizing yet most significant to you and Bucky and what was a more satisfying summer trip then the glorious sands and soothing turquoise waters of the beach.

waking up Bucky with your pillow hitting against his sleepy face, he awakes with a tired lazy grin. knowing he felt the vixen energy radiating your atoms the moment you raised from your spot on the bed and started to wonder when you would wake him.

so at that moment after the mini pillow war Bucky just had to start and finish you both raced to the kitchen and started your simple breakfast. by simple it had to be contrived of fluffy eggs, smoked bacon, warm toast, juicy fruit and delicious tea all while listening to the blasting rusting root coming from the mini stereo in the kitchen.

finishing the prepping and cooking, you both sat at the small kitchen table as you spoke about your beach plan as Bucky had his egg toast and you ate your fruit salad. biting bits of bacon and feeding each other, licking the buttery grease off your fingertips.

pouring your cups of herbal mint tea you both chat while Bucky read his paper and you writing in your journal. the sounds of the singing morning birds and the light classical music in the background serve well in filling the spaces of welcomed silenced.

breakfast, well mornings in general, are most significant to you and Bucky because it is where you both are in your truest soft forms.

at this time the rushing anxieties cannot keep up and the stressful expectations of reality don’t exist — because it is just you and him with your bed hair, wrinkled silk pajamas and blue porcelain cups of steaming tea.

as both of you spoke about your individual thoughts and expectations of today you both couldn’t help your eyes colliding to find each other every other minute. a smile gracing both faces and laughter reminisces with the shy and childlike nature you both hold.

both your comfortable positions find the natural comforting silence as you both finish your breakfast. underneath the table both your feet touch against each other, just finding comfort in the presence that it is just you and him.

after your simple morning meal and the cleaning up that took longer than you thought, only at the hands of Bucky blowing soap suds in your hair and you exchanging the childish act by spreading jam on his cheeks with the tips of your fingers.

the both of you rushed to the bathroom to get ready for the day ahead of you. fits of laughter and chatter bring peaceful chaos to the apartment as the two of you bath together.

afterwards you are in your pale yellow sundress smelling sweet of vanilla bean, lemon zest and the woodsy elements of Bucky’s cologne. your favorite dress of the summer in your opinion brought a strong contrast to your others that consisted of reds, pinks, blues and greens.

finally after settling on a dress, you beam at yourself in the mirror. placing your brown straw sunhat on your head, giving a quick twirl you were complete.

at the other side of the room Bucky smiles softly, you had his hair in a small bun yet the little strands of hair around his face slip out.

although you do not mind as you spring to your feet walking to his side by the doorway. pecking his mouth sweetly, Bucky can taste the watermelon gloss on your lips and it’s all a blissful dream as he feels your curves through your sundress.

a giggle escapes through the opening jaw of your white teeth and plump lips, you lightly smack his hand that’s gripping your hips you run to the kitchen. hurrying to prep all the necessities of your picnic to the beach, as well as trying to find the picnic basket which Bucky claimed was lost for good.

well, not nearly as lost as he put it if after a good five minutes of searching you found it deep in the shelves of your pantry closet. but in the rush of placing the watermelon slices and fruit cubes of cantaloupe, honey dew, orange slices in containers you were pacing to finish!

fresh rolls and baguettes of baked bread, finely sliced deli meats, creamy cheeses in brown paper bags as well as glass bottles of wine in the picnic basket. so so much to do and you nearly jump in surprise noticing what time it is!

the clocks hand rested at two and you both rushed helplessly to get what you both needed before walking out of the little cottage you two reserved for the summer to Bucky’s shiny white porsche. both laughing and hurrying as quickly as possible while stuffing your beach-things in the backseats.

“I hope you didn’t forget anything Bucky. it be such a waste of time to keep going back and forth,” you giggle smiling brightly up at him while he starts the engine, he returns the smile and laugh taking your hands in his.

“plum, with you here time can’t reach us,” a rising bashful smile blesses your face and with that he pulls the topless car to the highway like streets crowded by the green trees and clay cliffs.

the sun shining brighter and more yellow than before, the cotton clouds floating heavenly against the blue skies, a breeze flows against your face and you smile delightfully while the music from the radio makes you sing along.

stringing Bucky into your loud singing you both laugh when you forget the words and you both smile as you sing on and off key, the smell of the salty waves get closer you hold onto his hand tighter.

when you two get closer to the more secluded area of beach the excitement rises between the two of you and both of you have a right to feel overly excited, feeling free of job related restraints.

you two take your time getting your items from the cars trunk and backseat and walk hand in hand towards the lines of rippled blue water and shell scattered sand.

the beach, surprising wasn’t at all crowded as you thought, for only a few bodies (families, groups of friends and couples young and old) massing the sands you walk a decent space away from them placing your pale blue picnic blanket on the warm sand you settle the other things before situating yourselves on it.

digging into your personal bag you search for the sunscreen while Bucky worked the antennas of the mini radio, searching for a station to listen to as his eyes wash over the sparkling tide.

grabbing the little beige bottle you apply the honeycomb scented sunscreen on his face and forearms, with a tug to his mint green shirt sleeve and a unintentional pout he strips himself of the tee shirt.

smiling from that kind gesture you continue spreading the sun protection lotion on his shoulders, back, and chest while a focused compassionate expression clouds your face.

which could be mistaken with lust to any person as there is an Adonis in your presence and your head shifts to kiss his lips softly, tenderly slow as your hands hold onto his biceps as he returns the kiss back.

backing your lips quickly afterwards with a smirk, which Bucky just scoffs at you in playful rage “what do you get out of not returning my kisses, dolly?” a sense of mock hurt laced in his low voice makes you giggle.

you can’t help the wide smile that spreads “maybe… for a chance to kiss you again,” you say and Bucky can’t help but laugh along with your corny remark.

lying his back besides yours he faces you, the scent of the cool salty winds hit against both your hair. the sound of soaring birds in the skies, the radios chatter, and light washing waves against the sand is muffled within the background

the worlds universal elements and distractions may captivate your sensory devices but the present glow of love between you and Bucky, is much stronger than the universes hold on reality itself

“I love you y/n,” Bucky whispers, each breath in his voice airing in pure devotion and admiration.

but you can’t figure out how to handle that, because now the sun disappears in the cloudy blue palette. the land goes and fades into a foggy grey, and the feeling of warmth is replaced with a cold shiver.

those three remarkable words honeyed on his tongue and you wish to feel so assured- Bucky is so assured that he will forever love you.

you hate it, you hate that your heart clenches in denial, how you hate thinking you doesn’t mean it.

hate the idea that you will never truly feel loved.

eyes watering and throat gone dry, the hand that is in Bucky's hand begins to shake and you can’t look him in the eye

“what’s wrong plum?” Bucky whispers attentive, cupping your cheek your eyes leave the rushing water before aligning with his, internally wishing the tears that slip from your eyes were invisible.

you do not know what exactly is wrong with you, maybe it’s the high expectations that drag you through not fully enjoying experiences like these or maybe it’s the constant whispers in your head that make you think you don’t deserve to enjoy moments like these.

this mess of internal and external tells and instances may seem irrational to assemble or to lead to the core of the issue is impossible for people to understand, but not for Bucky.

with the knuckle of his fingers he wipes the tears that continue to fall, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck his lips brush against the shell of ear.

“y/n, I love you,” he whispers but it croaks, the little sobs you let out continue and they’re growing louder minute by minute.

getting up on his knees he glances down on you, your face hidden in the sad blue blanket; you continue to let out the small sobs and rigid whimpers.

it’s all too much, too much for your heart and mind to contain.

Bucky understands this— it’s heartbreaking but true that you both haven’t been true to yourselves and to each other when it comes to your emotional well being. the both of you figured that a healthy relationship can still persist despite the sorrow you both harness unhealthily.

the droplets of his own tears on your skin makes you look up to him, his expression equally as emotionally broken as yours, you can’t help but wrap your arms around his neck.

you don’t want to weigh your personal issues on his shoulders but what is this relationship that doesn’t consist of sharing your thousand heartbreaks and exposing your deepest scarred atrocities.

so instead of pushing him away from you, from wiping your own tears and denying this barefaced episode you clench him against you tighter.

shaking hands holding to the back of his neck and your hand in his hair as you release your world shattering tears and ground breaking sobs, Bucky does his best not to worry you, whispering his sweet words that always brings you down from the storm swirling in your head.

he is your anchor, your lover, your flesh and bone that is forever tied to you in this earth and the whole beyond.

the embrace a strong life gripping hug until Bucky lifts you up and carries you in his strong arms bridal style, walking on the sands to carry you into the pacific blue.

he looks no where else but your red watery eyes, this significant impairment is far to much for the two of you, for how could your relationship seem so simply untainted in the most harmless form yet so hurtful to the inner demons that hide in the crevices of your heart chambers that feast upon your hesitation.

Bucky hates that his tears haven’t lessen, the moments he’s walking knee deep in the cold water the realization in the drastic flaws of your relationship become so bare to him.

what is love between you two if you pretend to be okay, to pretend the hurt you two faced that still plagues and haunts you both isn’t real?

how could the two of you outrun the emotional and mental sorrow when it’s making you run away from each other?

what exactly is love if vulnerability doesn’t present itself stripped within all sentimental moralities?

“do you love me Bucky?” you both can’t recognize the voice shattered and broken, the tears are clear that they have not ceased; Bucky's jaw clenches hard to keep from screaming at the top of lungs that he does.

he doesn’t scream it for the world to hear, he doesn’t control the way his lips shake as they struggle to voice his truth, he doesn’t let you wipe his tears that cling to his lashes.

he takes a few more steps into the cold blue till he’s waist deep and your legs are wet, he captivates your peach soft face within his coarse palms, he holds you closer against him till his face is in the crook of your neck again.

he shakes against your now calm stance, it scares you more than he will ever know, it hurts when your lover cries like you.

you hold him tighter, rubbing his back trying your best to soothe him as you feel his wobbling lips against your ear while more warm tears rain down against your shoulder and the waves crash against his stature.

“I do, I do love you y/n l/n,” his voice broken yet those words are enough for him to feel whole, he crashes his lips against yours and you welcome them.

this is happiness he could be apart of.

this is love he can’t deny, this is a heaven he can believe in.

the clouds above cry with you, thundering and raining their tears the sound of the crashing waves and heavy shower soak you both to the brink but your lips do not dare separate from each other.

the tears replaces with raindrops the strong hold you two have within each other is not, you two have loved each other so hesitantly, trying your hardest to hide your broken pieces as if they were faults.

the smile that blossoms from your once pouting lips is beautifully spectacular, the tears not present anymore as well as the sniveling yet it goes hand in hand with Bucky's trembling smile and cerulean glass eyes.

a smile doesn’t cross is face easily, he clenches you closer and there you two run through the deep depth of the ocean as the rain continues pounding, with your love fueling his need to take you away from both your conflicting fiends in imaginative and ordinary incarnations.

“I LOVE YOU Y/N L/N! I LOVE YOU!” his voice emphasizing raw devotion it only harmonizes with the crashing ocean waves against their bodies and the thundering dark clouds above that sing along.

laughter bubbles against you as the shivering cold water hits against you, your soaking yellow sundress clinging onto your goosebump skin, the predicament was nowhere near expected in your affirmations of today’s outline but that in itself only makes you laugh louder.

the grey clouds crowd the heavenly blue but who needs the sunshine when you shine bright — oh so brighter than sun itself.

the waves crash against your bodies, gripping Bucky's shoulders that shake with cold and roaring laughter the tears in both your eyes aren’t riddled with sadness anymore but with compassion and vulnerable kindness.

he loves you, with all his heart he does.

#bucky barnes × reader #Bucky Barnes #poppy's birthday writing challenge! #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #marvel imagine #bucky barnes angst

[nalufever]

do you have any more nalu fic recs?

Sorry, not sorry - you’ve unleashed more than you could’ve guessed. ^^ Always happy to Recommend a List of Fics ~ And thank you for asking! Admittedly there’s a few Recs that aren’t Nalu - I got excited to share my favs. ;)

A Girl Worth Fighting For: Natsu navigates unspeakable horrors to win Lucy’s love or Natsu goes shopping, looking for the perfect white day gift. 

A Lesson: Natsu and Lucy can’t keep themselves from expressing their passions - and the results are bed breaking. Short but smutty - smexy in fact. ;P 

A Solidly Constructed Kiss: Erza strong-arms Lucy and Natsu into working the Kissing Booth to raise funds for a school trip. Lucy’s never been kissed and Natsu acts like he’s never entertained even the idea of kissing another person. Things naturally come to a head when Lucy and Natsu are given the task to build the actual booth; will they fight over construction or build themselves some kind of relationship? 

Fairy Tail Week: A collection of drabbles from tumblr prompts to celebrate Fairy Tail. Fairy, Ladies, Lads, Magic, Guild, Ultimate Team, Stronger, Mashima, Tail. Only rated teen to err on the side of caution, family friendly content featuring most of the Fairy Tail Guild! 

Feathers and Scales: Angel/Demon AU. Devils are more than they seem and Angels no less. Pitted against each other in a never-ending battle for souls, a single Angel and Devil trade mercies and fall in love. Warning: major character death(s). 

Full Moon Secret: Natsu had wanted to tell Lucy his secrets, to share his family history with the fey…it had just never been the right time. Tonight the truth was going to be revealed, one way or another. 

Okay, I could just keep hyping all of my own fics individually - but I won’t - other than to just put in a link to ALL OF THEM. ;) Fair warning, I have a few other fandoms works in all the Fairy Tail stories - from Brooklyn 99 to The Flash, Snow White with the Red Hair, RWBY, Blue Exorcist, Teen Titans and some Hakuouki. Yes, I’m a shameless self-promoter. Speaking of that - one more I need to rec!  Natsu’s Stars in Lucy’s Sky. I swear Imma finish this. 

I also have more than a few favourite authors who write for Fairy Tail (and other fandoms) ~ some have not contributed lately to Fairy Tail or chosen to concentrate on other fandoms - but I like them and their excellent writing. 

ObsessedwithNalu: One of my first fandom friends and pretty much any of her FT stories is gold. @obsessedwithnalu  

Christmas Treats: Admittedly a gift to me and very cherished for that fact - and - it’s frigging awesome. Lucy does a little holiday baking at home before Fairy Tail’s Christmas party. Natsu, as always, is there. One thing leads to another… 

Thanks, Krov: When Krov decided to relax at his favorite bar after work, he never imagined that he’d be seeing some of his old guild members, especially since he thought they had died long ago. Nalu fluff. 

Edo-Nalu love fest: Submissions for the Nalu love fest week of 2014. But instead of regular Nalu, these ones feature Edo-Nalu. Smut-tastic and delightfully mature. 

ImpracticalDemon: Another early fandom friend who’s still writing this, that and the other thing - and she’s just GREAT. Again, a link to all her works and a few that are special to me follow. XOXOX @impracticaldemon  

May the Best Man Survive: “Gray would never have in a million years thought he’d host Natsu’s bachelor party (Nalu pairing). Why is it his job to herd the bunch of rowdy mages from bar to bar, ending up at the guild where the real surprise party is? Oh yeah, the idiot had asked him to be the best man at his wedding. Hijinks, chaos and hilarity ensue.” ^^ A prompt supplied by me and I’m smirking so wide because the fic Imp came up with delivered more awesomeness than I could have hoped for! 

A Star At His Side: “Accidentally Fall Asleep Together” for Endragoneel on tumblr. Natsu and Lucy spend the day together at a festival in Magnolia. Natsu ends up watching more than just the stars when the festival is over… 

Christmas Gifts: When Erza walks Wendy home from the Guild’s Christmas Party, Wendy realizes how alone her friend and mentor is feeling. She sets out to recruit Lucy, Natsu and the rest to break Jellal out of prison for just one night, as a Christmas gift for Erza. Meanwhile, Natsu has accidentally burned some of Lucy’s writing. Will she forgive him? 

Dark Shining Light: One of the best and most welcoming writers I have ever interacted with! I’m still gobsmacked she’s a friend! She’s a legend and I don’t know what else I could add to any discourse about her writing - but the classics are classic for a reason, yeah? Here’s a few of my personal favourites of her works and just know there’s too many to list them all! AKA @ff-darkshininglight 

Mischievous Cat: Let’s just say there have been a few incidents where Happy has come in at a bad time. 

What Belongs to a Demon: Everyone knew she belonged to the great demon lord and she would prove that she deserved to stand by his side. 

The Truth Revealing Cards: Lucy should have known if there was a card that would reveal her secrets, Natsu would want it. 

Eliz1369: Got introduced to her for her Hakuoki fics but she’d dipped her toes into FT as well ~ and this is a great fic. ^^ @eliz1369 

The Light of Fairy Tail: The members of Fairy Tail may be their own brand of crazy, but their hearts are always in the right place. 

rougescribe: Shame on me for not reading more of this author’s works! @rougescribe  

Fire Sprite No 5: For him, Heaven wasn’t a place or a single moment in time. It was a feeling built on memories upon memories, past and present and a hope for future ones all tied down together. All sharing one common denominator: Her. Nalu. Tumblr Valentine’s Event. 

Fallen Ark Angel: Admittedly I only have interacted from afar with this writer. I mainly read Nalu fics but I love her take on Mira and Laxus and her next gen offspring characters. She’s got a lot to offer and it’s all superb. @fallen029

Loving Satan: Loving Satan is never easy. But when she loves you back, its twice as bad. 

Madartiste: Another one-sided love affair with someone else’s writing. And her stories are all wonderful and prolly appear on hundreds of Fic Rec Lists - but here’s one of my Favs! @madartiste  

Hoarding: Getting interrupted gets old fast. 

UranoMetria: I added her to my stable of fav authors 05-03-2014. Wow. Eons ago and even if I’m not sure she’s still active in the fandom, I salute her. Kudos. 

The Goddess Gate: With six years of partnership, Natsu and Lucy are torn apart by a mysterious visit from a secret magic council. Lucy is kidnapped and her memories suppressed. She fights her way back home to regain her life - with a startling secret revealed as she begins to remember. The lives of all Earthland hang in the balance. **Okay, this is a wicked old fic - but amazingly written and fuelled my own desires for writing. Last updated in 2018 but who knows? Some current attention may slay any demons on her back in regards to writing - and even if not - the hours of enjoyment reading this is worth giving a comment just to say, ‘thank you for writing.‘ 

Wild Rhov: Do I even need to say anything about this author? Famous, famous, famous. Excellent. Writes a lot of pairings and fleshes every relationship into something REAL. I Can’t Even. @wildrhov  

Beastly Possession: Something is murdering people in Magnolia. When Lucy is attacked, Natsu goes on a rampage to find the culprit, and everyone in Fairy Tail wants revenge. But could this bloodthirsty attacker be someone they know? Warning: High octane nightmare fuel! Do not read while eating, and beware of red eyes in the dark! 

Shell1331: Introduced via Imp. This writer is in a few fandoms and is worth reading. @shell-senji  

Juicy: Impulsivity and poorly chosen words get Natsu into more trouble than he’d expected, which is saying something for him. 

AbsentAngel: Everyone should know this writer. Been stalking her since 2014 so that says something. Tho, it’s prolly just that I’m creepy. ;) My suggested fic here is being re-written/has been? into something original and worth being purchased when it becomes available and re-read over and over. No, I am not being paid to shill but I am open to having senpai notice me. @absent-angel  

To the Flame: She stares, transfixed, as the blood runs down his fingers and begins to pool in his palm. He holds his hand up to her lips in offering, and she tears her eyes away from the blood to study his face. He is smiling softly. “Go on Luce, I didn’t cut them for nothing.” [Vamp AU] 

HawkofNavarre: Loved for awesome and delightful Gruvia content. Looks like there’s a tumblr but I can’t manage to link it. :(

You Stole the Rain: He just wanted to be friends; fine, she just needed to change his mind. Gray x Juvia 

Ricardian Scholar Clark-Weasley: Not sure I spelled that right even after checking three times! I usually short hand that to RS-CW in my head. And she’s prolific - has a tonne of fandoms and is a tower of talent. Is anyone reading all my fangirl gushing? 'Cause she follows one of my fics and comments (sorry I haven’t updated that fic in a while) and it’s a source of happiness that someone who writes so well happens to enjoy some of my content. Okay, bragging over - back to the Recs! 

Tales of Fairies: A collection of oneshots exploring different friendships, ideas, sad themes, comical scenarios, and lots and lots of pairings…but mainly Nalu. 

snogfairy: Another giant in the FT fandom. Impressive talent. @lineffability  

naughty nalus: smutty nalu oneshots B) ***Mature content!*** 

Rivendell101: Another giant in FT and other fandoms. This author would be considered required reading if I ran a fandom course in a University setting. Just sayin’ @rivendell101  

Crave: /krāv/ Verb. To feel a powerful desire for (something). They crave each other. And satiation doesn’t come easily. He growls against her again. “Beg for it,” he demands, lips ghosting against her. 

Lakerae aka @hidetheremote : Did you think I’d forgotten you? Ha! Gotcha good! You’re an inspiration to me because you’re working so hard to publish your children’s books. Kudos to you li'l sis! You’re busy but still make it a point to talk to me and I love you for that and everything.

The Gift of the Magi: A Gajevy Twist: A retelling of the classic Christmas story “The Gift of the Magi,” with your favorite Fairy Tail couple Gajeel and Levy! It’s Christmas time and Gajeel and Levy exchange gifts. They both are surprised what they receive and learn a lesson of the true meaning of Christmas. 

I could add more and more as I search my saved favs on FF.net ~ and I’m sorry to not include all of them - but this is crazy long as it is. If you read and like any of the recommended fics, please be sure to let the author know. To the authors of these and all fanfics, Thanks for everything.

#fic list #rec fic list #fan fics galore #mainly Nalu rec'd fics #sorry not sorry #asks #answered #more than poor anon bargained for

[strange-destinations]

Hey Kitty, due to your stories I've started to seek out Benny & Brax stories. So far, I've simply picked a few boxsets (Legion and New Frontiers) where I spotted the fabulous Miles Richardson on the cover. I was wondering, is there a better way to go about this? Do you have any recommendations and/or a listening order you would suggest? Thanks in advance and I hope your wrist is getting better :)

Legion is... a bit of a tricky place to start in, all things considered. It’s kind of like throwing yourself in at the deep end, because it somewhat relies on knowledge of the previous few box sets (Epoch and Road Trip) and the characters that were introduced in those. Those, in turn, follow off the end of the Collection stories, but to be honest if you just want to jump in at the box sets that’s perfectly fine - Epoch’s made to kind of be the ‘jumping-on’ point. All you have to know is that at the beginning of Epoch, the universe has been sort of ‘reset’ and Benny’s looking for her son, Peter, who was lost in the resulting chaos. The rest kind of explains itself.

Brax isn’t in Epoch or Road Trip, but Ruth is and Ruth’s a darling, and there’s some pretty good stories in both of them all things considered, so!

EDIT: OH OH GOSH PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO THIS BIT IT’S SO IMPORTANT all of the Benny stories from Epoch to Missing Persons are available for free on Spotify!!! like, completely free, no strings attached and in fact there’s a lot of Big Finish stories legally free to stream via Spotify, here’s a full list

Two alternate points to jump into the Benny stories, since you’re looking for benny-brax dynamics:

1) The Virgin books. There’s plenty of places to find these online (since the original publishers don’t get revenue from it, it’s generally considered Okay to download them, although I’m sure you can find physical copies if you searched for a while).

Benny and Brax first meet in Theatre of War, which is part of the VNA Doctor Who books (Benny’s still Seven’s companion, Ace is also there) and also is honestly a really really great book. There’s also a Big Finish adaptation of this story if you prefer that!! it’s a bit different to the book but still a really good spin on it. This one’s pretty much standalone.

Brax’s next cameo is in Happy Endings, and it’s very very brief although rather sweet. Happy Endings is the Benny Gets Married To Jason book and it’s honestly genuinely just a lot of pointless fluff.

...and then he comes back in the Benny solo books! These are a mixed bag but Dellah!Era Benny is a lot of fun and a particular favorite of mine. All you need to know (if you skipped the rest of the VNAs) is that Benny has retired as the Doctor’s companion, got a depressing divorce with Jason (f in the chat) and is now working as a Professor of Archaeology at St Oscar’s University.

Dragon’s Wrath is where they meet for the first time - good good book! Their dynamic is peak here. 

Brax does show up in a few other books but I can’t for the life of me recall a lot of them. I’ve still got to sit down and read through all of them in order some day, there’s a coherent overarching plot and everything. Where Angels Fear is definitely one where Brax shows up, uh. someone else help. it’s so late

anyway anyway Tears of the Oracle - best book. i first read it way WAY out of context and i still loved it. they’re best friends and it makes me sob every time. ‘she’s like family’

anyway yeah, Bernice Summerfield New Adventures - find a zip file of them somewhere and read them, they’re p good! and this is the era that Sepelio is set in, in case you didn’t realize this (i know at least one person didn’t)

2) The Collection-era audios (and tie-in books). Okay, I’ll be honest, I haven’t listened to this particular era in... nearly five years. And it’s a headache to get your head around, because some of the audios are closely interlinked with the books, and the books are hell to find, and there’s some Very Iffy Content for some of the stories and. I know y’all come to me for Benny Advice a lot but my memory’s so dreadful. half the time when writing i just operate on gut instinct for canon events and rely on the fact that this fandom’s so small nobody’s going to call me out on being ridiculous. Or I can also blame it on timeline shenanigans.

can... can someone jump in and give a guide to the collection-era stories and which ones to listen to/read for Plot Purposes? I know someone with knowledge is out there. it’s honestly an amazing story arc, I just wish I had the time to lay everything out properly.

The following, however, are pretty standalone and feature Brax heavily.

The Extinction Event - first audio ft. Brax. nothing especially special but it does establish some of the basework for some of his later Questionable Stuff.

The Mirror Effect - delightfully creepy, beautifully effective characterization, benny & brax & adrien & jason trapped in a creepy haunted mirror location and trying to get out. 

The Crystal of Cantus - maybe not entirely standalone BUT how can i not put this one down. very funny and very horrifying. benny and jason and brax go on a fun field trip and find out the True Meaning Of Cybermen. benny gains a fuckton of trauma.

...and then after Crystal everything gets plotty and complicated. not that it wasn’t before, but... oh well.

There’s also some books/short story anthologies in this era that are standalone/don’t require much context. Their names all escape me. Once again, help?

BONUS: Many Happy Returns - the Benny anniversary story which is more like a framing device for a fuckton of other stories set within pretty much every era. Cameos from everyone. Delightful and heartwrenching. Really really good, but maybe get some basis in various parts of canon before you check it out. Or maybe check it out and then start jumping around to find bits that interest you? I don’t know. I went through everything in painstaking chronological order from the tender age of 14 and now here I am, writing gory cannibal fanfiction about an emotionally repressed theatre professor and his disaster archaeology best friend.

...anyway, hopefully this helps at least somewhat! It’s past midnight and i’m wracking my brains as I try to remember what bits of an extremely extensive canon I enjoyed the most. let me know if there’s anything you need clarification on, I’m aware this is a bit of a disaster post.

#bernice summerfield #kitty rambles #long post #jeanniebird

[elaboratedbee]

Bigby x Reader

A/N: this is my first imagine, so let me know what you guys think and if there’s anything you guys want me to write! :)

Prompt: “What’s with the box?”

Summary: You introduce Bigby to the wonders of vinyl, and he hates it (or so he says)

Rating: Mature-ish! There’s implied sexy times but nothing actually innapropriate in this one! :)

Ship: Bigby x Reader (unspecified gender)

Word count: 2,168

A Little Quiet

“Ta-da!” You proclaim proudly, placing down a box onto Bigby’s desk. You were careful to avoid moving or covering any of the case files and scattered paperwork that littered the surface. To the casual observer, it would look like a mess of papers with no rhyme or reason, but Bigby was funny like that. His apartment was disorganised and unclean to put it lightly, but when it came to his cases, everything was just how he liked it. It all made sense to him.

At first, Bigby acknowledged you with nothing but a grunt, his brows furrowed as he continued to stare at the case file in front of him as if he thought that if he glared at it hard enough then it would start to make sense. “The whole ‘big bad wolf staring into your soul thing’ works better if whatever you’re intimidating can talk, you know that, right?” You teased him, waiting for him to finally turn his attention to you and your announcement. 

This broke through to him, and he looked up at you with tired eyes. He was always so tired, especially when he was in the middle of any kind of case. This time it was a string of B&Es that he just couldn’t seem to pin anyone for. His immediate and most obvious suspect Jack had been quickly ruled out due to his presence at the Lucky Pawn being accounted for at the time of almost every single event, so it hadn’t been the simple open and shut that you thought the wolf may have been hoping for, and with the pattern continuing, you could feel the Sheriff’s frustration mounting over the last few weeks. As much as he would pretend otherwise, you knew that the opinion of the Fables affected Bigby much more than he cared to admit, and the growing unrest amongst the citizens of the town only festered his frustration. Their eyes would be on Bigby, and Bigby’s eyes would be tired. That was the way it always seemed to be. “What’s with the box?” He inquired, even a shortage of sleep not enough to kill his curiosity. 

“It’s a record player,” you reveal, removing the box to properly show off the contraption. 

Bigby looks confused for a moment, his nose scrunching ever so slightly as he formulated his response. “Why would you want one of those?” He asks eventually, raising an eyebrow at you. 

“Bigby!” 

“What?” He leans back in his chair and makes a vague gesture with his hands, “I just don’t understand why anyone would want to come home every day and then be surrounded by more noise.” 

For such a powerful beast, Bigby really was a creature of habit. Before the two of you met, you supposed he spent all of his evenings in silence, accompanied by whiskey and cigarettes as he worked the night away. With the job that he had, which seemed to mainly involve yelling at, or getting yelled at by, other Fables on a daily basis, you could see why the man would appreciate a little quiet when he was finally alone. 

But this was different, music was something that you wanted to share with him. It was another one of the many differences that set you apart, that often prompted other Fables to give the two of you funny stares or to whisper among themselves about just how exactly the two of you managed to make it work. Bigby was comfortable in silence, used to it. You, on the other hand, thrived in chaos and colour and noise. You love music and the sprawling city below your window that was never really quiet, never truly asleep.

“You’ll see,” you promised him determinedly, before leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. It was a simple gesture, but it drew the tension that he didn’t even realise he was holding out of his shoulders, and he melted into your affections. “Come to bed,” you appeal to him quietly while you have his attention, straddling his lap with one leg either side of him. 

“I can’t,” he refuses, but his voice is strained as you run one of your hands through his hair, and begin to place slow and deliberate kisses over his jaw. 

“Come to bed, Bigby,” you repeat, your voice more firm the second time, and he wordlessly agrees, his body melting into yours in his submission. He rests a head on your shoulder and sighs. 

“Okay.” 

Effortlessly, despite his lack of sleep, he stands up and carries you with him and you wrap your legs around his waist. He places you down onto the bed and you try to tone down your smile, internally celebrating your victory. Looking all too happy with your success would only drive him back to his desk, so instead, you sit up and tug him closer by his tie. He allows you to slip the knot undone and pull it away from his body and undo his wrinkled shirt buttons one by one, sliding it off his broad shoulders. It’s an intimate act, but not a sexual one as you undress him and you follow your actions with kisses, gentle and certain. 

When he finally falls into bed next to you, pulling you close into his arms, you think to yourself that this is worth it. It doesn’t always go like this, where Bigby concedes so beautifully and with so little coercion. It’s more often a hell of a lot more difficult. And there are nights when it’s an impossible task, where you push too hard and he snaps at you. But on the nights that you lay together, breathing together, being together, you would make the trade a million times over. 

The next morning, you implement your plan. Fabletown seems content to hold off its daily disasters for a few sweet hours, so you slip out of bed early and start making breakfast for the both of you. Accompanied by the lilting tone of Frank Sinatra, you waltz about the cramped kitchen as much as possible as you mix ingredients and avidly look over frying pans. Before long, the smell of bacon lures the wolf out of your bedroom and he stops in the doorway of the kitchen, regarding you in silence for a long moment before he speaks. 

“I don’t deserve you,” Bigby says, watching you lay down bacon, scrambled eggs, pancakes and a steaming pot of coffee. It’s a sentiment that he shares a little too often for your taste. 

“You deserve better,” you argue as he makes his way over to you, wrapping his arms around you from behind and letting his headrest on your shoulder. 

He growls uncomfortably at your response and you laugh, “Now you know how stupid you sound when you say that.” You point out and the two of you sit down to eat. The vinyl player spins on unobtrusively as Bigby enjoys your offering with a smile on his face, a rare and beautiful sight for such an early hour. Still, he eats quickly and stands, dropping a kiss to your forehead and grimacing. 

“I have to go,” he states.

“I know.”

With one last to kiss to your lips, he turns around to leave, before he stops and turns to face you once more. “You know, the only thing that could have made this breakfast better would have been if you turned that damn thing off.” He gives you a sly grin and disappears out of the door before you can come up with a rebuttal.

That bastard. 

For the next couple of weeks, the record player becomes almost a form of competition between the two of you. You turn it on whenever you’re at his apartment, bringing different records over with all kinds of genres (some of which Bigby despises a lot more than others) and trying to coax him into singing or humming the lines along with you, or giving you a twirl. In return, he attempts to take the needle off whenever you look away for too long and even resorted to putting a large scratch in the absolutely deafening heavy rock record you had bought over. 

“Oops,” had been his deadpan response when you showed him the very suspiciously fingernail looking scratch on the disc. 

Occasionally, you think you have him. One night, he arrives home delightfully early and calls you to share the good news. As soon as you’re finished with your work, you go straight to his place. Arriving home before the dead of the night puts Bigby in a comparatively joyous state compared to his usual broodiness, and you put on a record as soon as you enter. It’s almost force of habit by now. He lets out a totally overdramatic groan of disapproval at your action, but you ignore him completely and take him in your arms. 

Pulling him close to you, you begin to sway lightly to the sound of Paul Anka’s rendition of Put Your Head On My Shoulder. Bigby stiffens, shaking his head a little as you wind your arms around his shoulders. “I can’t dance,” he grumbles. 

“Neither can I,” you confide, “not a fucking clue,” which pulls a small smile out of him. The two of you turn about the cramped living room with a complete lack of grace and even rhythm at times, occasionally standing on one another and muttering hurried apologies. Eventually, Bigby starts to loosen up slightly, holding you closer to him and allowing you to pull him around the room. By the end of the song, he’s even bold enough to invite you to twirl and you do so as a finishing flourish. 

The music fades, but neither of you pulls away for a long moment, staying entwined in the centre of the living space. “I like having you close. Right here, right in front of me where nothing else can interfere. Mine.” Bigby doesn’t meet your eyes as he confesses his inner thoughts, his voice deep and his words slow. He emphasises his point by tightening his grip on your waist and pressing a hard kiss to your lips. It’s not often the wolf lets slip how he feels, especially when its a somewhat primal and basal thought, but you love it.

You cup his rough jaw with one hand and kiss him back, bodies pressed close and reassure him.

“Yours.” 

It’s only after a long moment that you pull away from the kiss and Bigby murmurs more lowly in your ear, “I can think of another way I get just as close to you, without that damn machine.” He presses himself closer to you and smiles suggestively, but it’s warm love in his eyes before burning desire and you grin. You know that you’re winning. 

It’s another week before you catch him, taking him by surprise as you turn up at his place. He swings the door open with a frown already fixed into his face, sure it was going to be some Fable asking for one favour or another. The frown clears when he sees you standing on his doorstep and his eyes brighten. Without hesitating, he pulls you inside and closes the door before promptly pushing you up against it. His actions are urgent and forceful, but he waits for you to kiss him first before he allows himself to place a hand either side of your head and devour your mouth. 

His teeth, quickly sharpening, bite at your lower lip before his tongue soothes the sting away. Your own hands are soon twisted in his hair, his curls soft between your fingers as you tug on them, trying to pull him impossibly closer. When he finally allows you a moment, you grin at him. “Bad day?”

“Bad day,” he confirms, “about to get a lot better.” 

Finally able to think straight now that Bigby’s mouth wasn’t on yours, you register the sound of music floating through the apartment. An expression of pure, unadulterated joy appears on your face and the Sheriff baulks, realising his mistake as it dawns upon your face. 

“You’re listening to music!” It’s almost an accusation as you cry out victoriously and Bigby hangs his head.

“Alright, alright. I put it on when I got home. It’s kinda like a cigarette,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand shamefully, “it’s a noise that blocks out the other shit.” You notice that the usually overflowing ashtrays have depleted somewhat, an additional bonus that you had not expected.

“It grows on you, right?” You punch his shoulder lightly and he rolls his eyes and nods.

“I guess you could say that.” 

As he pulls you in for another kiss, more concerned with getting both of you out of any clothes that will prevent him from turning his day around, he keeps to himself that it wasn’t that he liked the music, and it wasn’t that he preferred it to his cigarettes.

It just reminded him of you. 

#the wolf among us #twau #the wolf among us imagine #twauimagine #bigbyxreader #bigby x reader #bigby wolf #the wolf among us fic #maybe he is soft #imagine #bigby wolf x reader #bigbywolfxreader #Bigby Wolf X Reader #bigby wolf imagine

[quidfree]

Hi! I saw that you wrote some prompts, I’m hope I’m not too late... could you do a James/Sirius prompt 11? Hope you��re not tired of writing about them I saw you got a lot of requests for that pairing

i never tire of these two x

11: i almost lost you (heavy stuff lol)

in many ways it is the first time they face him. 

sure, there had been the recruitment offer, midway through seventh year, like that was going to go anywhere; sirius' mocking laughter and the both of them staunchly unafraid, the handful of them (the year’s best and brightest, as it were) all comparing notes to lessen the slightly hysterical awareness that their last year of high school had included job offers from the dark lord himself. ignoring the fact that some of them had accepted.

that had been hogwarts, however, and though in age they are not far from that time this is markedly different. james has been in duels before, obviously; james has been in nasty ones at that, mainly with various members of slytherin house. the irony of the situation does not elude him as he ducks a sectumsempra curse. fights with the order are not the same. there is an unshakeable urgency to them, and the knowledge that all around you people are afraid, or dying, afraid of dying.

this fight is worse, too. there is a feeling of grim awareness coursing through him before he even knows why, and when he knows why it feels obvious. 

“the bastard is here!” moody had shouted, two, five, ten minutes ago, vanishing in a flurry of spells. james has lost track of him since, though he thinks he saw him crack someone’s jaw open with his wooden leg at some point. but the bastard is here, indeed, in flesh and blood, if tom riddle still has those. 

now, as he stands stock-still, wand raised, nerves singing, all of those ridiculous rumours they’d invented in school seem less implausible. 

“james potter,” lord voldemort says, coolly, advancing a little. they’re not close, but there’s an open space between them, largely unobstructed by the fights taking place around them. james spares half a look for the death eater he’d just knocked out, verifies he’s unconscious, then meets the man’s cruel, removed gaze. 

tom riddle had been handsome, in that uncanny aristocratic way that a vein of slytherin purebloods are, dark and charismatic and not all-together unfamiliar, though not the type of bloke james’d like a pint with. voldemort’s eyes are an eerie red, and his skin is reptilian, stretched tight; he looks like the sort of thing james had firmly pretended not to have nightmares about when he convinced his parents he was old enough to be read the warlock’s hairy heart. 

“tom,” james echoes, with a genial smile. “small world.”

the faint smile flickers; the man’s snake-like eyes don’t blink. “what a waste of a fine wizard. would you not be spared, potter?”

“spared a lecture, sure,” james retorts. they’re circling each other now, slowly; his pulse is thundering in his ears, throat tight. “otherwise, i’ll pass.”

“no? not even if it would spare your mudblood girl? it seems such a shame for you to lose her and your dear parents in such rapid succession.”

“she can handle herself just fine,” james says, through the throb of how dare he making him see red. his parents’ funeral was barely a month ago. “and my parents clearly raised me better than yours did.”

he just about manages to stop the killing curse very casually flung his way, quidditch reflexes rebounding it harmlessly skywards, then blocks three hexes in rapid succession, twisting sideways to launch two of his own back. voldemort stops them with ease, of course, but it gives james the time to move, pull away from the fray where anyone behind them might get hit, draw the man towards a hallway instead.

he’s a good dueller. near top of his year, even. but he’s eighteen, and six months into the order, and way out of his fucking league for an extended one on one with the dark lord himself.

it doesn’t matter. adrenaline carries him forwards, courage in his veins. he side-steps two crucios, throws out a hex voldemort has to twist to knock away, ignores the lightning-speed of his opponent for his own reflexive reactions. this is a fight like any other, at its core, wand against wand, wizard against wizard; he will kick as much ass as his magic permits, despite the sick thudding in his gut.

“very good,” voldemort calls, mocking, over the explosive sparks between them, robes flapping as he turns. “i expect you excelled at defence against the dark arts in your n.e.w.t.s.”

“i expect you failed,” james shoots back, faux-curious, then has to trip over himself to miss a curse; it gets him in the shoulder, burning like flames, and he swallows a yell to fire a quick block against the next volley, using the spare seconds to finish the curse before he has to duck and roll ahead of the next flash of green light, which catches his robes as he goes. 

from the floor he slams out several curses of his own, one particularly annoying binding spell managing to require voldemort’s full attention as he jumps to his feet. his arm is no longer on fire, but the whole shoulder area has gone fully numb, and the smug look on his opponent’s face says he knows this. 

he’s seen the same thing on too many’s people faces not to theorise. no doubt it’ll spread down his arm, loosen his grip at the worst time. 

well, fuck it. he wasn’t an excellent team captain for three years for a lack of ability. 

he tosses his wand from one hand to the other, and enjoys the momentary surprise on the dark lord’s face as he volleys a massive incendio his way. delightfully, it actually ignites the bottom of his robes. 

in the seconds where he can afford to, he listens to the sounds of the room drift in through the ringing in his ears: screams, and crying, and spells being thrown dizzyingly from all sides. mad-eye, somewhere, hollering strategies. the tell-tale cracks of apparition. 

someone is retreating. if he had the time- if he was someone else, he might have disapparated the moment he saw lord fucking voldemort had his sights set on him. for better or for worse he isn’t, though, and he might as well see this shit through until either camp leaves.

he’s not sure how long the next batch lasts. it feels like quidditch at its worst, like time is suspended and drawn out at once, a million manoeuvres going nowhere, not hoping to win so much as not to lose. he forgets everything of the outside world except the two of them, red against green, so closely knit amongst the chaos that they’re almost locked in a weird dance, pacing each other like animals.

he gets in two good hits. voldemort gets in three. 

the third comes as a direct response to his second, and really he ought to have expected that the man’s ego would respond so violently to successful mockery, but the moment his hex lands on his skin, bubbling comically if painfully under it, voldemort’s eyes flash viciously and james can tell, with the inevitability of watching the quaffle slip through the keeper’s fingers, that he’ll be seconds too slow with his next block, shifts course as best he can so he’ll be ready to heal himself-

he barrels to the floor instead, and sirius yells “motherfucker!” as his body explodes into cuts, blood bursting from him with almost comedic timing.

james manages to shield them on instinct alone, his heart pounding with misplaced adrenaline and pure visceral shock, vision locked on the red seeping from sirius’ body where they’re still half-crumpled in a heap on the floor.

he’s still seeing nothing but red when he twist, half-raises himself, and fires off three curses in such rapid succession that he is almost knocked back over by the intensity of his spells. one of them hits, maybe, based on the lack of response; he whips back around, says “sirius” with extreme conviction and no idea what he’s saying exactly, only that- shit, that-

“vulnera sanentur”, sirius grits out, finally audible, though he must have been saying it before; his voice got lost in the buzzing in james’ ears, or else he was practicing non-verbal magic. he is still bleeding. 

james pulls them both up to their feet mechanistically, shields with one arm, supports with the other, and feels the killing curse ripple through his protective spell as he looks towards voldemort, close now and smiling broadly. his heart is in his throat; for a moment he could kill. 

“enjoying the show?” sirius demands, caustic, unafraid always, even now, and james believes it wholly, because sirius is never afraid of things that could kill him, not like this. “purer blood than yours, tom.”

they are close, and it’s too late to disapparate, james registers distantly; if the fight has turned against them there’s no way out now. but does it matter, really? it’s him, and sirius, against some bully who thinks he’s all that. they have no choice but to give him hell.

voldemort spins two curses their way, and james doesn’t block; james weaves, dragging sirius after him, and sends two right back, grins violently in his direction, ignores the heavy weight of his best friend against him. voldemort doesn’t quite deflect the second in time, and he staggers back, grimacing in distaste, but then sirius is twisting urgently and throwing up a shield and there’s a second mask-less death eater nearby with a recognisably unhinged grin.

“resorting to dirty tricks, bella?” sirius snarls, which explains where he’s been all fight, really, and james just- fucking hell, he hates family reunions with the blacks.

“you’re one to talk about dirty, little sullied cousin,” bellatrix leers, and skips closer to her master, expression going exaggeratedly bashful as she twirls her wand. “my lord, i’m afraid i’ve come to curtail the fun somewhat. many of our ranks have fled before the paltry forces of the order; we are wasting time here.”

“very well,” voldemort says, unruffled, glancing towards the back of the room, where shouting is loudest. “say goodbye to your sweet cousin.”

james knows no small satisfaction in that the end of his sentence is cut short by his having to quickly deflect two hexes, but they get no further; bellatrix is spinning curses in their direction with a manic laugh before he can so much as blink, and it is only sirius’ jerky upwards motion that sends them through the ceiling instead, james following the motion with a blow of his own as he watches voldemort smile, dead eyes taunting.

"look at the state of you,” bellatrix scorns, “and not a scrape on the dark lord.” she too is unafraid, eyes wild and arrogant as their spells collide mid-way. 

“his robes look pretty stupid, though,” james retorts, watches her scowl as sirius snorts into his shoulder, itself devoid of feeling. her responding spell is more convoluted, nearly outpaces his twice before he gets a feel for it and rebounds it elsewhere. not far behind them he can hear voices again, and this time he recognises moody, back-up, safety. he is finding it hard to process through the haze, but he knows they are close to survival, so long as he stays alert.

he knows before he moves that it’ll be too much to fend off. voldemort spins green, bellatrix red, and the brute impact burns through his fading shield; the cruciatus curse skims along his leg as he shoves sirius out of the way, and it buckles, searing pain spasming through his muscles as he automatically barrels a hit back. it hurts so much he can’t think, but he throws his weight onto his functioning leg and yanks sirius behind him, watches bellatrix laugh and spin as their bodies begin to blur into nothingness, watches another two spells course through the air that reflex alone won’t be able to stop, and grits his teeth to shield jerkily even as he sinks downwards.

sirius’ free hand knocks into his, wands in perfect parallel, and the shield burns a brilliant white, parting blows collapsing harmlessly into nothingness. 

a spell hits his leg and he jolts, but the curse has stopped ravaging him; he pauses, turns.

“are you out of your fucking minds?” mad-eye roars, and james blinks, registers the quiet, registers the smoke fading, the handful of prone bodies and the exhausted disbelief on the faces around them. the many faces, he thinks. “have you ever paid attention to a word i tell you? it’s a bloody miracle you’re not both dead!”

“t’be fair, moody, was james’ fault,” sirius slurs, and that more than anything snaps james out of fight-induced focus, makes him twist to his knees to where sirius is now half-sprawled on the floor, pale and still blood-drenched and wildly, dangerously irresponsible. 

“merlin all-mighty, you fucking wanker,” james chokes out, ripping his shirt open to have at his torso, ignoring the convulsions of his leg. sirius shivers, flinches, smirks. his spell sealed many of his cuts, but there’s one jagged wound through his stomach still sputtering wetly, making james’ head spin.

“have some decency, prongs, really-”

“you absolute maniac,” james continues, conjuring dittany from frank longbottom’s bag and smearing it on with a vengeance, his hands shaking like the curse got his arms instead. “you could have just- fucking hell, you could have just shouted, or shielded, you-”

”all right, god,” sirius mutters, grimacing at the sting. “wasn’t fucking- thinking ahead, was i, would a little gratitude be too much to-”

“shut up, the both of you,” moody growls, fury in his hawkish eyes. “the order is moving out of this building. now! if you can’t walk, crawl, and if you can’t crawl, we leave you to die. ‘s what you bloody well deserve, for your antics.”

“could just say you were worried like a normal person,” sirius manages, lost in the irate clanging of wood on tile; he swats james off to drag himself upright, clicks his tongue at his leg. “idiot, what’d you go and get crucio’d for?”

“you,” james begins, suddenly impossibly overwhelmed, and thinks he might kill him, or laugh hysterically, or cry, the latter alarmingly probable, which must show on his face because sirius’ expression registers something like panic.

“prongs?”

“just-” james starts, stops, adrenaline crashing, his hands still fucking shaking. “don’t- don’t do that, don’t throw yourself into the line of fire for me, it-”

“oh, please, like you didn’t stand there and do the same for five minutes after i got a couple of paper-cuts,” sirius retorts, eyes flashing dazedly. “’s what we do, moron, ‘s what i’m here for.”

“no, it’s not,” james says. dumbly, he knows, numbly, and he knows why, actually, understands now that he’s shaking from the aftermath of shock, that when sirius went down he had the brief and violent thought that he’d died, that after his parents nothing seems invulnerable anymore, not even sirius, and he’d not known that until now, no matter how stupid that is. “you’re here to be here, you’re not...”

“oh,” sirius says, noticing his hands, maybe noticing his tone. 

he hasn’t cried once for james’ parents. not at the news, not at the funeral, not in the months since, and james knows it’s because he’s a complicated bastard who somehow thinks he can take the pain unflinchingly for his sake, even though james never asked him to, never wanted him to.

“bastard,” he says, out loud, and tries not to cry, drags himself to his feet, pulls sirius up after him, both of them shaky on their legs. they need to leave the building, and then mad eye’ll see them off, and once they’re home there will be time to heal wounds, wait for the next round.

he is so very tired, all of a sudden.

sirius stills him when they’re both standing, oddly serious now, chews on his lip and then lets go of his hand. james has barely refocused on his face through smudged lenses when he leans to kiss him on the forehead, like james does to him sometimes, like his father did, when they were younger. 

james inhales, sharp, and then starts crying. predictable, really. he’s done a lot of it the last while.

it’s all right, though, probably. they’ll be out of the building soon enough. he can walk and cry at the same time.

sirius ignores it, generously, or maybe just cautiously. when james starts walking he walks so close to him that james can smell him through the blood and dust, which makes him cry harder.

he can’t ask anything of him, is the thing. he can’t ask any of them what he wants, which is that they let him go first. parents aren’t meant to outlive their children; sirius will always die for james as long as there is a james left to die for. all he can do is protect him as best he can, in return, hope that between the two of them they cover all their bases.

he thinks of the shield, bright and powerful and effortless, and smiles wetly, rubs at his glasses. still smudged. his hands haven’t stopped shaking. if they were different he might’ve grabbed sirius’ hand.

they stop outside the doors, near last, and james gets a glimpse of the others- tired, appreciative, sympathetic- until sirius snatches his glasses off him, visibly surrenders some of his pride to lean heavily against him as he cleans them, shoves them back on with unnecessary roughness, just to be annoying. 

moody is saying something, gruffly, and the longbottoms are counting heads, and sirius says: “he’s an ugly fucker, isn’t he?” and james laughs, not shaky at all, ignores the glare moody shoots them and laces their hands together after all, pays no mind to the brief outrage on sirius’ face.

“godric, yeah. d’you reckon he took a bludger to the nose, at some point, or was i imagining the family resemblance with goyle?”

“oh, i think it’s innate,” sirius says, scoffing with unshakeable haughtiness. “looks sort of lizard-like, doesn't he, and we’ve all heard about his dubious parentage..”

“what, mrs riddle fucked a dragon?”

“dragon is generous, prongs, maybe a newt or something.”

“that feels unfair to newts,” james says, seriously, and hums. “limax, maybe. ohh, d’you think that would explain-”

“the robes?” sirius completes, eyes sparkling despite his feverish pallor. “body of a slug underneath. makes sense.”

“potter, black,” moody barks, “if you could spare us the speculation...”

they’ve lifted the mood, at least; he sees alice struggling to restrain a laugh near him as she wipes her brow, smiles winningly at their grumpy commander. 

“sir yes sir.”

tomorrow, if the urge strikes him, he’ll kick sirius in the shin to lower him. today, his leg is shaky, and sirius is the sort of steely he only gets when he’s about to collapse, so he just tugs on his hand, and sirius comes, obedient, brow furrowed in light curiosity. james kisses the side of his face, self-indulgent, squeezes his fingers unforgivingly.

“takeout tonight?”

“as long as it’s not indian again,” sirius replies, easy, and james nods feelingly and doesn’t let go of his hand for long enough that it stops being a lifeline and starts being funny.

#lmv #prompt #anon #qui ecrit #this got long as fuck lol #james #sirius #prongsfoot #feelings! #james' parents.... choices.

[internetgremlin-writes]

HI OMFG BIG FAN OMG i was wondering if you could post a book recommendation list?? i know you’ve read the night manager (which im planning to buy too now because im so whipped for tom) and idk i trust you on your taste musically so i think you also know lots about novels (and i really need i get back into reading omfg) IDK i wanted to give you a reason to post an actual list so it wont get lost in the chatroom and bcs your blog followers are probably interested too ANYWAY LOVE YOU 💕💕💕💕

This is probably a good place to pick up from post-hiatus. It’s been a while, I know, I’ll talk about it at the end of this. 

This list is by no means any kind of actual rating, this is just some of my all-time faves that I feel everyone should read at least at some point in their life 

Let’s start with the series:

- Harry Potter by JK Rowling –> this goes without saying, I literally grew up repeatedly reading these books

- The Maze Runner by James Dashner –> oh boy these are perfection and beyond. Honestly obsessed. If you want a teen dystopian novel with post-apocalyptic lord of the flies vibes, then you are in the right place. Also perf for ambiguous gay ships designed purely to rip your heart out 

- Percy Jackson and the Heroes of Olympus by Rick Riordan –> there are like 10 of these books in total and they be chunky, so if you want something to keep you quiet for a while then I highly recommend! Easy to read and have everything you could want from adventure books, including narration from an ADHD dyslexic teenage boy which makes everything so dam funny 

- Northern Lights by Phillip Paulman –> these are great for something a bit more sophisticated read, kind of complex but fascinating and a brilliant concept

 - The James Herriot books –> these might be a bit specific, but if you like animals you’ll probs enjoy them. James Herriot (pen name for Alf White) was an English Veterinary Surgeon in the 1930s, the books are anecdotal stories from his career and whilst some of them are *quite* out of date, they are heart-warming and brilliant 

And now for the individual novels:

- The Night Manager by John Le Carre –> I got into this because our beloved Tom Hiddleston was in the TV adaptation and honestly the book did not disappoint. Ngl it does help if you can picture Jonathan as Tom (hehe) but the whole novel is captivating if you can stomach slightly old hand and political writing 

- High Rise by J. G. Ballard –> oof this is a fun one! This book is my current read and again the film adaptation features our Tommy boy, which is delightfully helpful for the imagination. Imagine an adult version of lord of the flies and you’re on the right page for this 

- Lord of the Flies by William Golding –> and here we are. A widely studied novel but pls do not let you put this off, boys stranded on an island. Chaos is guaranteed and the themes are great. Probs one of my fave books of all time, and not just bc I ship Jalph. Also a nice narrative on human nature and who doesn’t love being called out?

- The Catcher in the Rye by JD Salinger –> this is a beautiful book with a mental health narrative. I can’t quite pinpoint the reason I love it so much, but it whacked me when I first read it and I’ve adored it ever since

- The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky –> kind of a modern-day Catcher in the Rye, again the focus is on mental health, love, loss, friendship and trauma. Am assuming most of you have seen the film, Charlie is a bean, you can’t help but love it

- The Rest of Us Just Live Here by Patrick Ness –> this is another one that I didn’t expect to love but did. Gay pining, characters in pain, all based in a town of superhuman kids at superhero high school. Can I get a yes, please?

- Starter for 10 by David Nicholls -> this book is very important to me because it just hit home wholly and completely. Based in 1985, it follows the story of Brian Jackson, a working class kid from Southend as he navigates his first year at university. It's funny and sweet and awkward but for me it encapsulated everything that I went through in my first year and for that it will always have a special place in my heart

That’s all I can think of atm but will add more as they come to mind!

Now, I should probably address the whole two-year absence. So, I did A-levels, and then I got a boyfriend who I spent far too much time and energy on to get treated the way I did, also had a lot of work to do with my horse coming back from an injury, then dumped said arsehole bf, went off to uni and got whacked in the face by a SHIT TON of work and I won’t lie to you guys, it was a lot harder than I expected. Also spent a lot of my downtime getting drunk because yanno, uni. Then got another boyfriend after several bad experiences and he’s very lovely. We have been together for just over a year, if you want an idea of what he’s like imagine Hugh Grant (big heart eyes). Then got (another) horse who is a total baby and needs so much work and she’s a bit of an asshole atm. Also my uni course means that my holidays are spent on placements (perks of being a vet student amirite) so I have barely even looked at my tumblr in this time gap. Anyway, now there is covid and I am back and bored. The plan is to take up writing again now that my exams are done and I have a little bit of free time so yes, all those requests I ignored will finally get done (if any of you are even here anymore, I hope you are) 

It’s nice to be back

#harry potter #the maze runner #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #northern lights #james herriot #the night manager #high rise #lord of the flies #catcher in the rye #the perks of being a wallflower #the rest of us just live here #books #book reccomendation #hi hi im back #hope y'all are good #sorry for the absence #iggyanswers

[doomonfilm]

Memories : Top 15 Films of 2020

If 2020 taught movie fans anything, it was that we shouldn’t take things for granted.  On the dollars and cents side of things, movie theaters were already facing an uphill battle to stay sustainable, but the “shelter-in-place” practice of March and beyond decimated box office returns, with many theaters yet to reopen (if they will open at all).  In terms of famous names and faces, the list of those who passed away featured numerous icons : Kobe Bryant, Kirk Douglas, Max von Sydow, Honor Blackman, Carl Reiner, Ennio Morricone, John Saxon, Wilford Brimley, Chadwick Boseman, Sean Connery, Tiny Lister Jr., Adolfo ‘Shabba Doo’ Quinones and many more transitioned to the great beyond.  Netflix, Hulu, Amazon Prime, Shudder and a number of other streaming services saw themselves step into the forefront of the entertainment provider realm, with Warner Brothers and a handful of other studios making announcements that they will be following suit for at least 2021, if not for good.

With all of this uncertainty and chaos, however, the year 2020 was a surprisingly strong one, in my opinion, when it came to cinematic output... so much so, in fact, that aside from a number of Honorable Mentions, my list of top films was expanded to 15 in order to accommodate all of my choices.  For anyone who has checked out my lists from previous years, you will know that I did not see every film released this year, but I did make my best effort to cover as wide a range of films as possible.  Enjoy the list, and be sure to support film in whatever medium you are able to moving forward so that it can thrive.

HONORABLE MENTIONS

The 40-Year-Old Version (dir. Radha Blank) A nice little personal film that spoke to my hip-hop sensibility, as well as that ever-present awareness of the inevitability of age, and how it can skew our perspective in regards to our achievements.

Ava (dir. Tate Taylor) This isn’t the action film that’s going to reinvent the wheel, but if you look at action films like wheels, this is a quality wheel.  Outside of Common, I couldn’t really find much to shoot down... this will definitely be one I consider the next time I have company and we’re looking for something fun to check out.

Bill & Ted Face The Music (dir. Dean Parisot) I honestly would have been satisfied with just two films in this franchise, but surprisingly, a third entry was created that didn’t ruin my overall enjoyment of the previous two films.  Keanu Reeves and Alex Winter jumped in without missing a beat, a healthy dose of familiar faces popped back up, and the new cast additions weren’t too jarring... it’s nice to know that a pair of my favorite childhood films are officially now part of a trilogy.

Borat Subsequent Moviefilm: Delivery of Prodigious Bribe to American Regime for Make Benefit Once Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan (dir. Jason Woliner) This was possibly the most surprising release of 2020... outside of a couple of news blips that Sacha Baron Cohen made during production, not a lot about this film was leaked prior to its release.  For such a dated character and a seemingly outdated style of humor, Borat once again exposed the simplest parts of society in an incredibly insightful (albeit cringey as all get-out) manner.

Guns Akimbo (dir. Jason Lei Howden) One of the most fun films of 2020.  Somewhere, the creative minds behind Nerve are wishing that they’d made this film instead. 

Henrietta and Her Dismal Display of Affection (dir. Jeffrey Garcia) Jeffrey Garcia is the homie, and I’ve had the pleasure of being in a number of his short films, so when he announced his intentions to write and shoot a feature film in 2020, I was completely on-board.  Miraculously, he was able to film the movie while the world was being ravaged by COVID-19, and though I cannot publicly announce details yet, this film has definitely already met (and likely succeeded) his expectations.

The Midnight Sky (dir. George Clooney) With each film that George Clooney directs, I realize more and more than he is an old soul trapped in a body idolized by the new school of film.  That being said, it’s nice to know that there are directors out there willing to embrace patient, silent and contemplative moments while simultaneously withholding from force-feeding viewers exposition.  

Tenet (dir. Christopher Nolan) This was possibly the most anticipated release of the year, considering it was the king of the IMAX release crowd in its pre-release promotion.  After a small delay due to COVID-19, it was one of the first films released in hopes of testing the movie-going waters during what was sure to be a diminished period of time, which probably hurt its numbers.  Too many, the film was confusing, and the nit-picking was fierce from the criticism contingency, but in all honesty, this was pretty impressive Nolan fare... certainly a good second movie in a Nolan double feature.

The Trial of the Chicago 7 (dir. Aaron Sorkin) I cannot tell a lie... I was hugely impressed with how Sorkin managed to reel his personality and voice back in order to let this well-known, controversial moment in time present itself.  Sorkin has a tendency to be the star of his films, be it when he is in the writer or director role, but for this film, he managed to focus the best parts of his skillset into a highly respectful, educational and inspiring tale that fit the tumultuous summer we endured.

VHYes (dir. Jack Henry Robbins) I remember seeing this trailer as 2019 was coming to a close, and it was a film high on my list of desired viewing.  Then 2020 reared its ugly, stupid head and many releases disappeared into obscurity or found themselves delayed.  Luckily, this one slipped through the cracks and found a home in the streaming world, which in all honesty, suited its presentation very well.  One of the most delightfully weird films of the year, hands down. 

Vivarium (dir. Lorcan Finnegan) Of all the films cut from my Top 15 list, this was the toughest cut to make.  I went into the film totally blind (with Jesse Eisenberg and my respect for his acting chops being the sole selling point), but this film really hit a lot of my buttons... it’s trippy as can be, there is a character that is freakishly unique and wholly unnerving, and the production design leaves a lasting impression.  Don’t let the Honorable Mention designation fool you... this one is a winner.  

Wonder Woman 1984 (dir. Patty Jenkins) The Christmas gift that the masses collectively decided that they did not want.  Much like Ava, there is one glaring aspect of this film that I could have done without, but otherwise, I found this to be an enjoyable film.  Gal Gadot was made for this role, while Kristen Wiig and Pedro Pascal stepped up to the plate and impressed.  If you’re looking to be blown away, the Wonder Woman franchise isn’t the smartest place to go, but if you’re looking for entertainment, there’s plenty of it here.   

THE TOP 15 FILMS OF 2020

15. Mignonnes (dir. Maïmouna Doucouré) This one started off the year with plenty of controversy.  What was an award-winning tale about womanhood and the difficulties surrounding coming of age in an ever-changing and evolving world quickly devolved into a campaign to ban the film (and Netflix).  Many people overlooked the film as a cautionary tale about what access to the Internet and the sexually-charged nature in which women are portrayed can do to developing girls, instead choosing to accuse the film of being fodder for malicious types seeking to exploit the sexualizing of young women.  More than anything, in my opinion, Mignonnes served as an example of our outrage-fueled culture and the way it tends to skew our perspective and/or our ability to take art at face value.

14. His House (dir. Remi Weekes) As I’ve mentioned many times over the past week or so on this blog, horror films were one of the few genres that found a benefit from the film industry’s transition to streaming services for primary access to film.  While a number of traditional horror films received notice, His House took the opportunity to not only make a pure horror film, but one that spoke on racism and the conditions that asylum-seekers and refugees face.  The film is well-acted, the production value is high quality, and it’s paced beautifully... while not the highest film on this list, it is certainly one I will encourage others to see as time goes by.

13. All Day and a Night (dir. Joe Robert Cole) When human nature reared its ugly head during COVID-19 in the form of numerous race-related killings, multitudes of businesses quickly adopted the Black Lives Matter mantra, with film distributors and streaming services taking advantage of the moment to produce and release content relevant to cultural and social awareness.  Netflix was no different, and of the many films they released in the wake of the harrowing events, All Day and a Night is the one that feels the most sincere and honest in its approach and presentation.  The streets of Oakland are presented with a vast array of characters, each with complex backgrounds and states of mind, all of which helps the viewer understand the pressure many minorities live with and process on a daily basis.

12. She Dies Tomorrow (dir. Amy Seimetz) Execution is king, even when applied to the simplest of premises, and She Dies Tomorrow is a shining example of this.  In a very John Cassavetes move, director Amy Seimetz took her payment from her appearance in Pet Sematary and used it to fund a personal project that more than likely would have been ignored by studio heads.  The result is a hypnotic, entrancing and haunting film where stillness and anticipation play antagonist, while we as viewers feel the need to transpose ourselves into the protagonists we are presented due to their stilted but emotional performances.  Hopefully this one finds some notoriety in the cult classic realm as the years pass.

11. The Vast of Night (dir. Andrew Patterson) For a debut film, The Vast of Night handles itself with a surprising amount of confidence in its vision.  The immersion is nearly instant as we are first placed in the premise of a TV show, and then a 1950′s town, but once the actors and camera get going, it’s up to us as viewers to strap in for the ride.  The story is deeply intriguing, the performances are strong enough to carry a very dialogue heavy movie, and the final act is chilling in its reveals.  I will be surprised if this one finds its way to a Best Original Screenplay nomination due to it being a debut film from a relatively unknown writer/director, but if it manages to get the nomination it will certainly be a well-deserved one.

10. Birds of Prey (and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (dir. Cathy Yan) The movie that broke the list.  If someone would have told me in 2019 that a film directly connected to Suicide Squad would be anywhere on a Top Films list I curated, I would have laughed dead in their face, and yet, here we are.  It’s like every good idea that was poorly executed in Suicide Squad found new life in Birds of Prey, which makes the film not only an entertaining watch, but a satisfying one.  Not only is Margot Robbie perfect in this film (as well as given a break on the exploitative costuming), but Mary Elizabeth Winstead arguably takes a stab at stealing the show with her performance.  Don’t let the DCEU association fool you... Birds of Prey is the real deal.    

9. Never Rarely Sometimes Always (dir. Eliza Hittman) Probably the most contemplative film on the entire list, and impressive in its nature for sure.  To my knowledge, the cast is made up of mostly unknowns (unless I’m sleeping on actors and actresses, which has been known to happen), and as a result, a tough slice of life to swallow is presented in an extremely grounded nature.  Sidney Flanigan gives a powerful performance, hopefully the first of many.

8. Possessor [Uncut] (dir. Brandon Cronenberg) Easily the most “what the f-ck” film on this list, and certainly one worthy of the Cronenberg name.  Andrea Riseborough has been on my radar since Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance) and Mandy, and seeing her in a lead role confirms her talent.  I’m a sucker for science-fiction films that don’t rely on digital effects and elaborate set pieces, and Possessor rings both of those bells with a vengeance.  I watched the uncut version, which has a couple of extremely brutal sequences that will unnerve even the most hardened viewer, but these sequences only serve to drive home the lost nature of Tasya, our protagonist.  This one isn’t for everyone, but for those who can stomach a bit off graphicness and process a narrative that doesn’t spoon-feed you answers, this one is a must see.

7. Da 5 Bloods (dir. Spike Lee) Spike Lee has always been a huge influence on me as both an aspiring filmmaker and a fan of the medium, but I’d be lying if I told you that his last decade was a memorable one.  Outside of BlacKkKlansman, Lee has found himself falling short of his vision more often than not, but Da 5 Bloods is a tonal and stylistic bullseye.  Fans of Lee will dig it, fans of Vietnam films will dig it, and anyone who had an inkling of respect or admiration for Chadwick Boseman will be moved.  If Lee continues to make films as good as this one, he may find an entirely new generation of fans as a result.

6. Soul (dir. Pete Docter) As mentioned at the top of this list, people love to try and sink films due to their own personal agendas, and Soul found itself in the crosshairs prior to its late 2020 release.  Many people were upset that a minority character would not only spend most of the movie as a blue blob, but would also seemingly serve as a tool for another character’s “salvation”.  That being said, once Soul dropped, anybody with common sense dropped those stances and realized that Pixar had not only made a stunningly beautiful film, but one that likely spoke to adults more than children.  Plain and simple, Soul is a bonafide instant classic.

5. Kajillionaire (dir. Miranda July) If Evan Rachel Wood doesn’t win an Oscar for her performance in Kajillionaire (or at least garner a nomination), Hollywood needs to collectively have their head checked.  Every year worth its salt has a weird, quirky but loveable film, and Miranda July more than succeeded in making one for 2020.  The humor, both physical and dialogue-based, is on point, and the bittersweet nature of the story is gut-wrenching as the film progresses.  This one was probably the biggest surprise for 2020 in terms of prior awareness versus post-watch admiration.

4. Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom (dir. George C. Wolfe) The final film of Chadwick Boseman’s short but prolific career is one that allowed him to exist in the wake of his reality, making his performance powerful and (seemingly) cathartic.  He is surrounded by supreme talent on all sides, as there are no weak performances in this film, and despite it essentially being a play shot for film, it feels far from limited, contained or constrained.  Not only does it speak on larger issues of the commodification of Black pain and talent, but it may serve as a vehicle for a posthumous Oscar for Boseman.

3. The Devil All The Time (dir. Antonio Campos) This was the first Netflix original that made me really and truly respect them as a film distributor.  The list of talent for The Devil All The Time is truly impressive, and Tom Holland knocked his lead role out of the park.  Robert Pattinson is great as always, and the way that the story winds back into itself keeps you locked in and connected until the credits roll.  For something that came out so many months ago, it’s respectable that it was able to hold such a high position on a list that was as fluid as any I’ve ever put together.

2. Mank (dir. David Fincher) For a time, this was the hands down film of the year on my list.  Gary Oldman has basically become a “can do no wrong” actor, and his performance was amplified by David Fincher’s ability to emulate the look, sound and feel of a bygone Hollywood era.  On top of this, the built in intrigue that comes with handling anything remotely connected to Orson Welles is present, making Mank almost feel like a companion piece to the prolific film that is Citizen Kane.  If The Devil All The Time was a victory for Netflix, then Mank was the win that put them into a true spot as contenders in the future of film distribution. 

1. I'm Thinking of Ending Things (dir. Charlie Kaufman) Where does one even begin with Charlie Kaufman?  Time and again, he proves to be one of the most truly unique voices to gain fame.  For I’m Thinking of Ending Things, Kaufman seemingly returns to his foundation of odd, offbeat love stories, only to take us on a journey of truly mind-bending and psyche-warping proportions.  Of all the movies on this list, this is the one that almost demands repeat viewings, as one must have an idea of the entire journey before they can understand the individual aspects laid out.  If dialogue isn’t your thing, then this one may not hold you, but that would be a shame, as this beautiful mystery stands head and shoulders above the rest of 2020′s stellar output.

#ChiefDoomsday #DOOMonFILM #Mignonnes #MaimounaDoucoure #HisHouse #RemiWeekes #AllDayAndANight #JoeRobertCole #SheDIesTomorrow #AmySeimetz #TheVastOfNight #AndrewPatterson #BirdsOfPreyAndTheFantabulousEmancipationOfOneHarleyQuinn #CathyYan #NeverRarelySometimesAlways #ElizaHittman #Possessor #BrandonCronenberg #Da5Bloods #SpikeLee #Soul #PeteDocter #Kajillionaire #MirandaJuly #MaRaineysBlackBottom #GerorgeCWolfe #TheDevilAllTheTime #AntonioCampos #Mank #DavidFincher

[gingerwritess]

hEY can u do a drunk reader thingie + loki where he takes her home after worrying and reader accidentally confesses?? morning aftermath as well sorry if this is too close to the drunk!loki one and if its too unoriginal kjaksjskjs

Summary: you have a little too much to drink and set your sights on a certain god, and loads of chaos and perfectly awkward situations ensue.

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff? bad words?

A/N: this is my first time besides Heat Wave writing for not-yet-dating Loki x reader, and i loved it sm, and got a little carried away. so enjoy this one shot!

also i didn’t proof-read or edit so i apologise in advance have a nice cute gif of loki’s murder strut instead

You and alcohol don’t exactly make the greatest pair.

You and alcohol and an extremely attractive god don’t exactly make the greatest trio, either.

But here you are, strutting over to Loki like you own the place; you’re only a couple drinks in and already have made up your mind that this one, this crazily beautiful god isn’t going to slip out of your grasp. You’ve been chasing after him for too long, and it’s too obvious how he’s chasing you too, right? Right?

Your ankles have decided otherwise.

The moment you shout his name and he glances over at you, you’re flat on your ass and there’s a watermelon margarita dripping down your front—and the Asgardian is laughing.

He laughs but walks over to help you up, extending a hand you too eagerly take. Oh…his hands are something out of a dream. It’s just a simple hand to help you up, but his long fingers curl around your wrist and they’re cold, wonderfully cold against your heated skin.

Good god, if you don’t want to hold that hand for the rest of eternity…

“I…I think I just fell for you,” you giggle breathlessly when he pulls you to your feet. “Get it? Cause I fell? I fell for y—”

“Yes, yes, I get it,” he laughs, steering you back to the bar and helping you into a seat. You immediately reach for a menu to order another drink, but Loki places a gentle hand on yours to stop you; your heart nearly stops. “Might you consider something non-alcoholic? Some water, perhaps?”

“No thank you, sir.” You shake your head and cross one leg over the other, trying your best to look put together. “I feel great. Another marrrr-grita please!”

“Absolutely not. We’ll have water, thank you,” he tells the bartender, catching you with a hand on your waist when you nearly fall out of your chair from whirling around to glare at the god for ordering for you. “This is for your own good, trust me.”

“M’not drunk! I only had…had…” you try to count on your fingers, furrowing your brow when you can’t seem to remember what comes after three.

“I believe the number you’re looking for is four,” Loki chuckles and hands you a glass of water, making sure your grip on it is tight before he lets go. “Drink up—no, don’t you dare dump it out—you’ll feel better after this.”

“But I feel great,” you slur and take a messy gulp of water, trying to talk with your mouth full and only dribbling water all down your chin. “I feel like I could take on the world, and—and—ooo Loki, you’re wearing a white shirt!!”

The god raises a confused eyebrow at you and nods, glancing down at the white button up he had chosen to wear to this little gathering, something different from the dark and most likely leather he generally finds himself wearing. He hadn’t thought much of the choice, but the fact that you noticed him doing something differently sends a funny feeling to the pit of his stomach—maybe he should change things up more often.

“Yes, I am, wonderful observation. Here.” He hands you a napkin to dry off your face, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “You should be getting home, don’t you th—what in sweet Valhalla are you doing?!”

You’ve just reached over to his seat and dumped your entire cup of water onto his chest. “Makin’ you sexy, that’s what,” you declare, rubbing the water around his shirt to make sure it covers every inch of his torso. “See? Now it’s see-through.”

Loki’s heart is beating a little too fast for his liking at the feeling of your curious hands all over his chest. It was completely out of the blue, what you’ve just done, and extremely inappropriate…right?

But now you’re staring, because his shirt is see-through, and things are looking incredible.

“I didn’t know you have abs, Loki!”

Yes, you’re staring shamelessly and he wants to shrink under the wonder filling your gaze as you take in his much too exposed stomach, raking your eyes from his perfect collarbone down to the little dips on his hips forming a beautiful ‘v’ and he can tell your gaze is only getting lower—

“You should take me home, big boy.”

He almost spits out his water at your blatant request, already feeling much too open to your, ah…interest than he’s used to. To take you home, in this state? Even though you had literally just asked him, and even with how…tempting you look in this elegantly disheveled state, he pushes the very thought out of his mind and shakes his head.

“No, no, that’s not a good idea,” he laughs nervously, quickly turning away from you so you can’t stare at his chest any longer. “You’re not yourself, and I couldn’t possibly take advantage of you like this.”

“But I asked!”

“Yes, but—no. You’ll only regret it, trust me.” He looks around for whoever is responsible for you, whoever let you reach this state of drunkenness and left you alone like an idiot, but he can’t find anyone.

“I just wanna go home,” you whine softly, dropping your head onto the bar top. “If you won’t take me home, can you call me an Uber?”

Loki freezes, heat rushing to his face as he realises he might have misunderstood your previous question. “Wait…you want me to take you home?”

“Yes please. I’m startin’ to get dizzy.”

“Just…just to see you home safely?”

You give him a puzzled look and hop off your barstool, wobbling slightly and grabbing his arm to steady yourself. “Yeah…? What else would you do?”

Then you see his blushing face staring at you and your drunken mind fills in the gaps.

“OH! Ew, Loki, no, I don’t want you to ‘take me home’ and like, sleep with me or somethin’.” You shake your head and burst into a fit of giggles just at the thought—nervous, drunk giggles.

Nervous? Terrified, really, because the thought of him ‘taking you home’ is definitely appealing—and you can’t imagine what you would do if he ever discovered that.

Relief floods Loki’s mind, but there’s also a hint of embarrassment and—oh god—that’s not…disappointment, is it?

If he hadn’t just signed himself up to take care of you, he‘d get himself a drink too; gods know he needs it if these are the thoughts that a drunk mortal can put in his head.

“Let’s get you home, then,” he chuckles nervously and puts a tentative hand on the small of your back to lead you to the door—you immediately tense up when his hand touches you and he feels it.

He yanks his hand away and it drops to his side, and he can’t bring himself to look you in the eye. “Let’s just get outside,” he mutters, cursing himself for even thinking to touch you. “Then I can get you to your place in seconds.”

“No! Nooo, Loki, no magic portal thingys.” You shake your head and twirl your fingers around your ears, making the god give you a strange look. “Makes me feel a little loco. I might puke if we travel through space.”

He wants to disagree and insist on using the “magic portal thingys” to get you home and away from him as fast as possible. He needs you out of his hands now, because for some horrifying reason, the way you spun your fingers around your head and stuck your tongue out to mime “crazy”…was strangely adorable.

His heart, the cursed thing, needs to stop this right now.

“That way. Quickly, now, let’s go.” He points to the door and starts to walk away from you, trusting you to follow on your own. But the first step has your head spinning and you shout his name and grab his arm, looking around wildly until the seven Lokis you were seeing become one again.

He’s reaching for you right away, giving you his arm and steadying you with his other hand on you waist. “Easy, darling, walk slowly,” he says, worried eyes meeting yours. “You may be in a worse condition than I thought.”

“Darling?” You giggle, squeezing his bicep lightly—oooh, nice—and slipping into a revoltingly awful, exaggerated royal accent. “Ah, my prince, please do escort me to thy carriage! I, your darling, have consumed too much alcohol—” you’re overcome by a fit of hysterical, breathless giggles as you hang on to Loki’s arm, hiccuping and following him out the door. “—way too much booze and…and…wow, Loki! Stand right there!”

He looks like something straight out of a dream.

Minus the confused look on his face, of course. You tug his arm to get him to stop walking, then step away from him to take in the view. Your jaw is practically on the ground, but you really don’t care; the way the moon is hitting his jawline is the most beautiful masterpiece you’ve ever seen, and his shirt is still wet and thankfully see-through.

That was a good decision, tequila brain.

“You’re so…so pretty,” you sigh dreamily, holding up your hands to frame his shocked and confused and beautiful face. “I kinda really wanna kiss you.”

Whoops.

Maybe tequila brain needs to put a lid on it.

Loki just smiles at you, almost sadly, and points to the waiting car. “No, you don’t. Now get in the car, I won’t make you go through any ‘magic portal thingys’ tonight.”

“And you’re such a gentleman, too,” you giggle and run back to him, grabbing his arm and pulling him to the car. “The whooooole package.”

This is getting ridiculous—and extremely painful for the god being pulled in the backseat of a little silver car by your much too bold and delightfully warm hands. His heart hasn’t stopped pounding since you had grabbed hold of his arm, holding onto him for dear life, as if he can protect you, as if you trust him.

Just the thought of that is terrifying.

But you sidle up next to him in the backseat as the car starts moving, because it just feels like the right thing to do, and his damp shirt and cool skin is so perfectly refreshing…you lay your head on his shoulder and scoot closer, your knees knocking together.

You’re not talking, surprisingly, and Loki can’t breathe. Your head is laying so gently against his shoulder, so close he can feel you moving with every breath, every blink. He can’t move a muscle; he needs you to stay there as long as possible. You’ve chosen him, regardless of your state of being, and he’s terrified that the slightest movement might make you lift your head and sit up.

When you reach for his hand, he almost screams. You don’t hold it, necessarily, rather you just take his hand in yours and start studying it, running a finger over the lines in his palm.

“Why’re you shaking?”

“Nervous habit,” he answers curtly. Pulling his hand away might be the best idea, because you’ve begun to place your hand against his to compare sizes and your hand is just so warm, too warm.

“Well, y’got nice hands, Loki,” you mumble, and suddenly the car is much too comfortable. Eyelids drifting shut in a matter of seconds, you barely realise that you’ve slipped your fingers between his and tightly closed them around his hand.

You seem to be quite comfortable, but for Loki, the rest of the car ride is pure agony. His hand is still wide open, palm to the ceiling and refusing to curl his fingers back around your fist—but he’s itching to. He wants to hold your hand, desperately, to run his thumb across your knuckles as you drift into a content, alcohol-induced sleep on his shoulder, but he keeps his hand flat and just lets you hold his hand.

You’re drunk, he reminds himself over and over again, you’re drunk and not thinking in any way intelligently. You won’t remember this, and you probably don’t even realise what you’re saying or doing or for that matter, who’s hand you are clinging to for dear life.

Loki breathes a chuckle, a quiet, disbelieving laugh at his own stupidity. Really? A mortal? And an inebriated one, at that?

His chest lifts with the chuckle and rouses you from your sleep, your mind just as foggy as before. You sit up and blink to clear your eyes, and Loki’s heart falls—Norns, this is getting out of control.

“Wait a minute…” you gasp and stare at your still connected hands, the many drinks from earlier making your mind fill with dreams of holding his hand and what that could possibly mean, the thought getting you waaay too excited. “Are we a thing now?! Oh my god, Loki…what are we?! Are you my boyfriend now?”

“I consider us acquaintances,” he blurts out too quickly, trying to change the subject. “Some would go far enough to say even friends.”

“What’s wrong with friends? I like being friends! Let’s be friends, Loki!” You’re beaming at him, the prospect of actually being with him obviously exciting you, and he pries his hand from your grip.

Trying to ignore the hurt confusion on your face and how you reach for his hand again, he moves away from you to lean against the car door. “I’m not particularly fond of the term.”

“Why? You don’t have friends?” You scoot closer to him and try to grab his hand, but he crosses his arms and glances out the window.

“‘Friendship’ is only something for me to lose.”

“So dramatic,” you giggle and wrap your arms around his neck, practically laying on him. “Chin up, buttercup, you look like you need a hug.”

The nonsense spilling from your mouth has another amused smile tugging painfully at his lips, one he fights along with the desire to wrap his arms around you and just hold you close. You’re already too close, with your arms around his neck and leaning against his chest, and you’re right—he would love nothing more than to hug you back.

Thankfully the Uber pulls into your driveway and Loki can finally be rid of you to clear his head of these insane…feelings. But you jump out of the car and grab his hand, pulling him out after you and begging him to come inside, and he finds it impossible to refuse.

“Just for a minute,” you promise, fumbling with your keys. “You don’t have to stay long—oh, but I’ve got ice cream! Have you tried ice cream? Let’s have ice cream—”

“Give me those.” He laughs and takes the keys from your distracted hand, putting a hand on the doorknob and it promptly clicks open. This is for the better, for your safety, he tells himself as he follows your happy skipping into your apartment.

“Chocolate or vanilla?” You yell and immediately rush to the freezer, bringing out two cartons of ice cream and grabbing a spoon. “Never mind. Both.”

Loki’s standing uncomfortably by the front door, looking around at your little home and picking at his hands. He looks a little nervous—nothing ice cream can’t fix.

“Over here,” you call and wave him over, flopping down criss-cross on the couch and digging in to the first carton of ice cream. “Hurry up,” you slur around a mouthful, “m’gonna eat it all before you get any.”

“Are you sure that is the best idea…?” He reluctantly sits down next to you, concern in his eyes as he watches you shovel down spoonful after spoonful. “You’re going to make yourself sick.”

“But it’s so good,” you practically moan, and the god’s cheeks turn bright red; the last thing he needs right now is a sound like that coming from your beautiful mouth and ingraining itself in his imagination.

“Try it.” Now you’re shoving the spoon up against his tightly pressed together lips, smearing the cold ice cream across his face. “Try it, just tryyy it, Loki. Open your mouth.”

He just stares at you, not moving, keeping his mouth firmly shut. That is your spoon, it was just in your mouth, and now you want to feed him with the same utensil? You just keep grinning and trying to slip the spoon between his lips, completely oblivious to the suggested intimacy of your actions.

It’s clear you have no intention of stopping until he eats the ice cream, so Loki takes the spoon from you with a sigh and quickly eats the ice cream off of it, trying his hardest not to think about the fact that he just shared a spoon with a mortal—and didn’t really mind.

“Yay!” You squeal and grab the spoon back out of his hands to get yourself another heaping bite. “It’s good, right?”

“Exquisite,” Loki halfheartedly agrees, his stomach churning at the sickly sweet and cold taste lingering in his mouth. His eyes are trained on your face, specifically your lips; despite all his attempts to distract himself, the only coherent thought running through his mind is how divine you must taste, with the ice cream still fresh on your lips and your tongue—

“Stop that,” he growls, ripping his gaze from your mouth.

But you don’t even hear him talking to himself, because your drunken mind is too busy with the exact same train of thought. The spoon falls limply out of your hand as you slip into a trance watching his tongue dart out over his lips, his Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows, the way his jaw tightens for a moment when he notices you staring.

Were you supposed to not kiss him? To not fling the carton of ice cream to the floor and pounce on him, knocking him onto his back and crashing your lips into his? I mean…you had to. And yes, he does taste incredible.

The only problem is that he’s not kissing you back. Even though it’s taking every ounce of self control for him to not pull you into his lap and lose himself completely in your drunken lips, and you do taste divine, so sweet, so warm…

“Stop, please stop,” he murmurs and gently pushes you away from him, resisting the urge to lick his lips just to taste you again. You pull away with a quiet gasp, your eyes still closed and lips pursed, slowly growing into the happiest smile he’s ever seen on your face. “Darling, you just kissed me.”

“Hell yeah.”

Loki laughs at that, tipping your chin up to look at him as you open your bright eyes. “No, you just kissed me. Loki.”

“Perrrrrfect,” you slur, leaning towards him again and closing your eyes. A cold finger on your lips shakes you from the trance of that first half-kiss and you open your eyes with a quiet noise of protest.

“I wouldn’t do that,” he tells you gently, a sad smile on his perfect lips. “You don’t want this. You’re drunk, you’re not thinking correctly.”

“Nuh uh. I want you,” you whisper, fumbling around in his lap for his hand. He can’t bring himself to pull his hand away when you lift it up and press your palm flat against his, placing each of your fingers to his. “I wanna kiss you forever, and hold your hand all the time, and hug you whenever I want, and—”

“That’s enough.” He puts his hands on your shoulders and shushes you, wishing you would stop talking. These ideas are just too painful to hear. “It’s me. You’re talking to me, I’m Loki. I don’t think you realise what you are saying.”

“I know that, genius,” you giggle, reaching for him. “You’re Loki and I’m me, and together we’re perrrfect.”

“No, we’re not. You don’t want any part of me, trust me.” The god can’t bear to look at you anymore, because your eyes are too enchanting and your smile is too addicting, even with these alcohol-induced lies spilling from your mouth. He gives you a reassuring smile and stands up, picking up the ice cream carton and spoon you had thrown to the side before kissing him. “I should leave soon, can you get yourself cleaned up?”

“Good idea, I wanna put my comfy sweats on! Just need to take this off…” you reach behind you to unzip your dress, your face scrunched up in concentration as you rearrange your arms to try and reach it. “I can’t—reach—Lokiiiii, help me.”

You throw your hands in the air with a groan and turn around, presenting Loki with your back, and he swallows hard at the sight. The zipper reaches from your shoulder bones all the way down to just above your ass, stopping in the curve of your spine. He can’t do this, hell no, his heart is pounding just looking at the task you asked him to do.

“Your hands are shakin’ again.”

Loki curses and the zipper slips out of his hands, which are most definitely shaking, because he’s trying so hard to get this over with but the zipper just caught on something underneath your dress.

Something black and lacy.

“Oh for the love of…” he promptly rips the zipper the rest of the way down, cursing under his breath and immediately shooting his gaze to the ceiling. This is getting out of hand, and he needs to leave you now, for your own good more than anything.

Luckily you thank him and bounce off to your room, the unzipped dress flapping open as you run. Loki runs a hand over his face with a groan, glad the worst of it is over—then you start lifting the dress over your head with the door wide open.

He flings a hand towards your door and it slams shut, only to be followed by your amazed “wow! More magic thingys!” and he drops onto the couch, head in his hands. This whole night has taken a turn for the worse, and despite his best efforts otherwise, he finds himself undeniably attracted to this weak, stupid, drunk mortal.

For the first time in his life there’s something disgustingly warm spreading through his chest as his mind wanders back to how you had kissed him, even under a layer of alcohol, how you had said so honestly that you wanted to hold his hand?

He’s overstayed his welcome. Standing near the door, he can hear you humming quietly to yourself as you shuffle around the room, reassuring him that you’re okay. He sets the dirty spoon in the sink and puts the ice cream back in your freezer, straightening the grocery list stuck to the metal door. There’s blank sheets behind the list and a pen connected to it, and Loki takes them down and writes you a quick note.

By the time he’s finished, there’s only silence coming from your room and he carefully opens the door to peek inside; you’re fast asleep, thankfully wearing pants—the hem of your t shirt has ridden up and Loki quickly tugs it down to cover your skin. You don’t exactly look comfortable, one leg bent and hanging off the side of your bed, with an arm crossed over your face as you snore.

How in all the nine realms do you still look so ethereal?

Loki can’t help but smile at you. You are, for lack of a better word, adorable, and he subconsciously brings his finger up to brush over his lip—you had felt so right against his lips and he almost wants to…no. No, no, no.

He lifts your leg onto the bed and pulls the covers over you, hanging up your discarded dress and setting his little note under the glass of water on you bedstand, refilling the cup with a wave of his hand.

“Goodnight, little mortal,” he whispers, hesitantly hovering a hand over yours. “I hope you don’t remember any of this.”

Then he gives your hand a light squeeze and is gone, leaving only a faint green glow settling around your room.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Okay…at least you wake up in bed alone, thank all that is holy.

Alone save for a million regrets and a pounding headache. Somehow you had gotten home safely last night, Tony must have called you a cab or something. Sitting up with a groan, you stretch and—wait a minute.

Loki. 

Oh my god. Flashes of last night flood your mind and there are a million scenarios that you aren’t sure really happened or were just dreamed up by your drunk mind…you’re never drinking tequila again.

Your dress is hanging neatly on the back of your closet door, and you definitely were not the one to have done that. You’re wearing your sweats and an old t shirt…oh hell no. Did Loki change you??

That was not the way you would have ever wanted him to see you half-naked for the first time. Not drunk and messy and doing god knows what, saying who knows what, but there’s no going back now…

At least he’s not laying naked in your bed.

Actually…maybe that wouldn’t be the worst thing. Wait, no, no thinking things like that!

You fall back onto the pillows, rubbing your throbbing temples and trying desperately to remember what happened. Besides the headache, you don’t feel too terrible; a little parched, maybe, and your lips feel kinda funny.

Reaching for the cup of water you keep by your bedside, you notice a piece of paper tucked underneath—the cup has been refilled as well, the water still cold. The writing on the note is frankly beautiful; small, tight loops in the lettering give it that perfect touch of messiness for added character. You check the bottom of the slip and—oh god—it’s from Loki.

“Good morning, mortal,” it reads, “don’t worry. You dressed yourself behind a closed door and I sat in a different room.”

Oh thank goodness.

You requested that I see you home safely, and we took a car (we had a third driver, neither of us were—are—fit to drive) to your home. You begged me to stay and try what you call “ice cream,” which we then sat on the couch and ate to our heart’s content.

Fantastic. You had a drunk date with a god and ate ice cream.

You thankfully fell asleep on your bed, so I left you there, made sure your doors were locked, put the ice cream away, and left. Thank you for the ice cream; that is an incredible midgardian creation and I hope someday you will show me where I can find some of my own.

I left you breakfast on the table. Take the day, rest, and I’ll be back to check on you soon. Thank you for the…entertaining night, and call for me if you need anything at all.

If there is anything you remember from last night that you wish for me to forget, say the word and I will have no memory of it.

-Loki

Anything you want him to forget?

It all comes back to you at once. The water, that disgustingly attractive white shirt, the car ride—the car ride?! For some reason, you remember just being close to him, and you rack your brain to try and remember what happened.

You held his hand. Oh no, no no no. He’s not supposed to know any of that, anything about how you might feel for him. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Loki’s note clutched tight in your hand, you drag yourself out of bed and into the kitchen. Sure enough, there’s a plate of some kind of sliced bread sitting on your counter. It smells delicious, crumbly and sweet and unlike anything you’ve ever eaten before—it must be Asgardian. You scarf all of it down without hesitation, and immediately your throbbing headache subsides, your head clears, and memories start to trickle back into your mind.

You glance around the kitchen and see a dirty spoon in the sink, and suddenly there’s the weirdest tingling sensation in your lips as your head starts spinning. Bringing a hand up to gingerly feel your lips, your heart starts pounding and it all clicks: you kissed him.

No idea what the deal is with that spoon, but oh my god, you definitely kissed Loki last night.

“If there is anything you remember from last night that you wish for me to forget…”

The thought has barely processed through your panicked mind when you hear a gentle knock on the door, rattling you from your thoughts. You rush to the door and crack it open to see the last person in the world you want to see right now standing on your porch: the god you kissed and ate ice cream with while you were drunk off your ass.

“Good morning,” he says, a little too cheerfully. And oh my god, he’s wearing another white shirt, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “May I come in?”

“Um…no.” You push the door almost completely closed, just barely peeking out at him from behind the door. Like hell he can come in, looking like that?! “Sorry, I’m like, really sick.”

Loki raises an eyebrow and puts a hand on the door. “I’m nearly certain that’s impossible. Did you eat what I left you?”

“…maybe.”

“Then it is impossible for you to be sick.” He smiles at you and your hand slips off the doorknob. “That particular grain can cure the simplest of ailments, the most common of which would be those caused by…a certain level of drunkenness.”

“Loki, I’m so sorry,” you start rambling, opening the door and stepping back to let him in. “Thank you for taking care of me, um, I’m really, really so sorry you had to deal with my drunk ass—”

“Oh, hush. I’ve dealt with worse.” He steps inside and closes the door behind him, turning around only to find you right in front of his chest, much too close. “I—sorry.”

You both immediately back away from each other, casting your gazes anywhere but at one another, and you notice Loki has a plastic bag one hand partially hidden behind his back. “Um…whatcha got there?”

Loki blinks and glances at the bag, then gives you a sheepish grin. “It’s, uh, ice cream. You seemed to enjoy it last night, and I thought it might make you feel better?”

Crap, there goes your heart again.

“Wow. Thank you, Loki, that’s-that’s super sweet.” Words don’t seem to be working very well for you right now, so you just wrap your arms around yourself and wave him inside to the kitchen, unable to bring yourself to look at him.

You kissed this guy.

He follows you as you pad into the kitchen, bare feet shuffling across the floor to drop you into a chair at the little table in the corner, and you carefully start sipping your water to try to get some moisture back in your dry throat.

Loki stands uncomfortably in the middle of the kitchen for a moment, holding the bag of ice cream and looking around in confusion. “Where would you like me to put this?”

“Break that baby out, I’m hungry,” you mumble over the rim of your cup, eyes squeezed shut in exhausted pain and you wave a hand at a top shelf in one of the cabinets. “Bowls’re up there.”

He doesn’t move and just stares at you for a bit, opening and closing his mouth as if he’s about to say something. You can only imagine what he has to say to you after last night, and you’d rather just get it out of the way. “Come on, get it out. I can handle it,” you sigh.

He’s so cute when he plays oblivious. “What?”

“We kissed, didn’t we?” You set down your cup with a bang and risk a glance at his face, only to find his face a little more flushed than usual. “Well, I kissed you, right?”

“…you did.”

“Oh my god, Loki, I’m so sorry.” You drop your face into your hands with a groan. “That’s so terrible of me to put you in a position like that, and-and you were so nice to me and took such good care of me and—why are you smiling?”

He’s just standing there, smiling softly at you, in that damned white shirt, and you swear you couldn’t possibly fall any further in love with this guy, this god.

“Maybe,” he begins thoughtfully, putting the ice cream on the counter and rifling through a drawer for two spoons. “Maybe it wasn’t all that terrible.”

He flashes your stunned face a sideways grin, waiting to see your reaction and falling silent. You’ve completely lost the ability to speak in complete sentences after that and fall silent as well, and the two of you just sit there in each other’s heavy silence, waiting to see who will cave first.

Oh, fuck it. This one isn’t getting away.

“Hey, Loki?”

The god pauses and glances down at you, an arm frozen in midair reaching for the bowls on the top shelf. “Hm?”

“…nice shirt.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

hope you enjoyed, feel free to send me ideas!

loki tags: @bluediamond007 @himitoshi @drakesfiance @destiel1597@dangertoozmanykids101 @archy3001 @jcalpha1 @yzssie @skullvieplu@forthesnakeofdragons @skulliebythesea @wegingerangelica@storiesfrommirkwood @agarwaeneth @adaliamalfoy @laurfangirl424@paradisaicsam @fitzsimmons-is-forever @ladylokimischief @katelinwrites@tarynkauai @polaristrange @loavesofmeat @canadian-ravenpuff-multishipper @lou-makes-me-strong @holyn0vak @chocolatealmondmillk @swtnrholland@kenzieam @jessiejunebug @catticas @the-republic-and-face-of-texas@doralupin01 @whitewitchdown @atomiccharmer @falconfeather23435  @babygirlicecream @avengrcs @vethrvolnir2 @bookgirlunicorn @wabisabigrl @myhealingstar @khaleesi-marvel @ei77777 @spacecrumbs

#loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki fanfiction #loki fluff #domestic!loki #drunk!reader #caring loki #loki x reader fluff #loki drabbles #loki requests #drunk!loki #loki oneshot #loki funny #flustered loki #boyfriend!loki #loki fanfic #loki odinson #loki x you #loki #loki fic #marvel loki #mcu loki #marvel fanfiction #marvel requests #marvel drabbles

[feathers-and-fisticuffs]

Listen To The Distant Thunder...

[Chapter list HERE]

Kabu strummed his guitar quietly as he watched the clouds gathering on the dark horizon, leaning back against the tree behind him.  Nanu sat with his head resting on Kabu’s shoulder, his eyes closed, just taking in the sound, heart aching.

“And if the music stops There's only the sound of the rain All the hope and glory All the sacrifice in vain,”

The first drops of rain began to fall, the two young men mostly staying dry under the leaves of the tree, the deep rumbling of thunder like a drumroll in the distance.

“And if love remains Though everything is lost We will pay the price But we will not count the cost...”

Nanu’s last night in Hoenn before going on to Alola for his new job, and it was starting to rain.  He wanted to believe, something, somewhere, had a cruel sense of irony, as drops plinked down onto the polished wood, tears that fell just like the rain.  They listened to the distant thunder as the strumming of the guitar fell away to silence.

Word had started to spread across Galar of the two young children who Rose left behind, and although Bede was used to being in the spotlight and handling paparazzi and questions and fans and chaos, Kabu was doing everything he could to keep it all away from Basil.  The damn leeches were everywhere, it was almost impossible to avoid them, and once they realized he was also housing Cyrus, a known criminal... It was only going to get worse as time went on.

Cyrus didn’t seem as bothered by them, and had scared most of them with his delightfully dark and deadpan humor that they mostly stayed away if he was out and about.  His two “friends”, as he called them, started coming around more and more as Cyrus started to heal, and once he was able to move around mostly out of his wheelchair, they began to join Basil with his lessons.

They started with simple things, basic reading, writing, arithmetic, and Cyrus couldn’t help but be impressed with how smart the kid was.

“Rose made me attend lessons.”  Was his defense, though he sounded less than thrilled by that fact.  He wasn’t thrilled with having class now, either.

Having Lincoln around helped, especially as they taught him sign language, and the more Basil absorbed, the more fun he had with it, as Lincoln was quite talkative when he wanted to be and Basil was thrilled to have someone other than Cyrus and Kabu to talk to.

Cyan mostly sat quietly in the corner, sketchbook in his lap, doodling idly and looking uncomfortable around everyone.  Basil had taken a dislike to Cyan but an interest in his sketchbook, so he’d sit as far away as he could while still being able to watch him draw, squinting nosily until Cyan would gesture for him to come over and get a better look.  Sometimes, if he was in a good mood, he’d show Basil how he drew something, or explain a little about his art, but normally he was quiet, closed off, just wanting to have alone time with Lincoln and Cyrus.

Basil, however, wanted to be anywhere but in a lesson.  He would much rather be running around, training his Pokemon and exploring, and Cyrus knew this.  He did what he could to make the lessons interesting, but he could only do so much.

“How come you don’t have any Pokemon?”

Cyrus had been ignoring the hand in the air for five minutes now, he could tell that Basil’s question did not pertain to the lesson.

“That is irrelevant.”

“Do you have pokemon? Do they not like you?  How come you never have them out?  Do your friends have Pokemon?  Can I see them?”

Cyrus groaned.  “Focus on your lesson, please.  Pokemon have nothing to do with your homework.”

Basil crossed his arms. “I can’t focus anyway so you might as well just answer the questions.”  He smarted off with a smirk.

“No, I don’t have any Pokemon.  You don’t get to keep your Pokemon after you get arrested for trying to bring an end to the world as we know it.  I don’t know if they liked me or not, that is their business and it doesn’t matter anymore anyway.  Lincoln does have Pokemon, I don’t know if he’ll let you see them that will be up to him.” He snapped bitterly.  “Can we continue with the lesson now?”

Basil frowned at that, and let Whisper out of his ball, cuddling the Meowth close.  He couldn’t imagine being separated from his pokemon.

“I’m sorry Mr. Cyrus… do you want to hold Whisper for a while?”

“No I do not want to hold Whisper for a while.  I want you to finish this equation.”

Basil dropped the cat pokemon in Cyrus’s lap anyway, before leaning over and getting back to work.

Cyrus growled, annoyed that he wasn’t being listened to, however the Meowth was very warm and very sweet, and he couldn’t help reaching over to give it a pat every so often.

If only for Basil’s sake.  He wasn’t doing it for himself, of course.

************

“You should bring an umbrella with you, there’s rain coming…”  Kabu followed Cyrus to the door.

“It’ll be fine, a little rain never hurt anyone.”  He assured the older man, leaning on his cane as he rushed off to take a walk with Cyan and Lincoln.

“Bye Kabu see you later!” Basil rushed past, almost making it by before Kabu wrapped him in a hug and pulled him back inside.  

“Now where do you think you’re going?”  He teased.

Basil squeaked and giggled. “Hop and I are going to Circhester to have a snowball fight!  Let goooo!”

He let Basil go, smirking. “Alright, just be safe.  It’s supposed to storm and I want you home before that happens!”  He called after him.  

“Okaaaaaaaaay bye!”

Basil stopped to say hello to Cyan and Lincoln before disappearing down the road.

Kabu watched them and smiled, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, taking in the scent of rain yet to come.  He was so proud of how far the two of them had come, Cyrus could move around pretty freely with the help of a mobility aid, and Basil only needed his cane on bad days.  The doctors told him they expected him to make a full recovery, though it was close, any more injuries and things could have been much worse.

He felt… at peace.  He couldn’t remember the last time things felt so right.  For once, everything was going his way.  He was happy.

“Lincoln, wait up!  I’m old, I can’t run that fast!”  Cyrus called, smiling.  Lincoln was running back and forth through the trees, chasing his Spinarak and giggling.

“He hasn’t looked this happy in months…”  Cyan mused. “You haven’t looked this happy in… well ever.”  He had his hand on Cyrus’s shoulder, an old habit, to keep him steady.

“I haven’t felt this happy in well ever.”  He responded, sounding almost surprised.  “I don’t know how to describe it.  I feel… good.”

“You look good.”  Cyan pecked his cheek.  “I’m so proud of you.”

“Bean!  Get down from there!”  Lincoln was hanging upside down from the branches of a tree, spinarak dangling beside him.  “You’re going to fall and bust your noggin!”

Cyan laughed.  “This is as good a spot to set up camp as any, hm? Are you sure you want to have our picnic out here?  We can go somewhere where you don’t have to sit on the ground…”

Cyrus waved the thought away.  “No, no, I want this.  I want to be out here with you.  And this will make Lincoln happy too.”  He groaned and tried to sit down, letting Cyan guide him down the rest of the way with a grunt.  “There. See?  I’m fine.”

Lincoln plopped down from the tree and sat beside him happily.  “Are you going to catch any Pokemon today?”  He signed excitedly.  “It’d be good for you to have a companion!”

“I don’t know, Bean… I don’t deserve a pokemon after what I did.  And besides, the old man would just take it away from me if he found it.  He doesn’t trust me further than he can throw me, and I’m pretty sure he’d throw out his back just trying to lift me.”  He smirked, and Lincoln snickered behind his hands.

“You keep saying that but that isn’t true you know.”  Cyan noted. “Like it or not he does trust you. He wouldn’t let you teach his son if he didn’t trust you, you’ve seen how protective he gets.  And he’s done wonders for your back, too.”

Cyrus couldn’t deny that.

The three of them ate in silence, just enjoying nature and happy with the company.  It was nice to have time together, just the three of them, and they didn’t want to waste the time with idle chit-chat.  Eventually, Cyrus made them pack it up.

“The wind’s getting strong, we better get back before we get blown away.”

They made quick work of packing their meal and helped Cyrus to his feet, staying much closer to him on the way back, noting how much slower he was moving.

Cyan kicked himself for not thinking to bring the wheelchair with them.

On the way back, Lincoln stopped suddenly, grabbing Cyrus’s sleeve and tugging urgently, pointing to a patch of tall grass.

“What?  What is it, Bean?”

The three of them paused then, watching as the grass quivered, something zigzagging through it haphazardly.  Finally, the mysterious creature emerged.

“Oh, Arceus…”

Standing before them, looking dizzy and confused, was the cutest, fluffiest Eevee that any of them had ever seen. It’s fur covered it’s eyes, and it shook it’s head trying to clear them, before catching sight of it’s tail and chasing it a few more round, plopping over on it’s face when it got too dizzy.

“That’s the most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen in my life…”  Cyan covered his cheeks with his hands.

Cyrus groaned and crouched down to get a better look.  “Come here cute thing…”  It started to wobble it’s way over to him.

More rustling was heard, and suddenly a second Eevee flew past the first like a zubat out of hell, knocking it over before latching onto Cyan’s boot, gnawing and growling.

“Hey!  Get offa me you little ankle biter!”  He tried to nudge it away but it was determined to make an example of the shoe, however its tiny teeth weren’t doing much of anything.

“Catch it catch it!” Lincoln signed excitedly.

“What?  No way, it’s vicious!”

Cyrus reached out to brush the fur from the fluffy Eevee’s eyes, but was met with a fingerfull of needle like teeth.  “Ow!”  He didn’t pull away, watching as it tried to suck and chew at it gently.  “Cyan, they’re just babies!  They don’t know any better they’re just hungry!”  He pulled his finger away finally, watching as the Eevee stood on it’s hind legs and spun around before losing its balance and collapsing.  “Well aren’t you a pretty little dancer!”  He cooed.  He couldn’t figure out why, but he had a sudden need, an urge to catch it.

“Come on, I’m sure they’ll leave us alone, we need to get back before the rain hits.”  Cyan huffed and started trying to walk, but the Eevee kept getting underfoot.  “Hey! I said beat it!”

Lincoln giggled.  “They like you!”  He looked to Cyrus, who was watching them with a small smile, and handed him a pokeball, pressing it into his palm.  “Go on… it’s okay.”  Lincoln smiled and squeezed his hand before stepping aside to let him work.

Cyrus whistled.  “C’mere, little dancer…”  The Eevee perked right up at that and scrambled back over.  “You want to come with me?”  It hopped back up and spun around again, making happy noises. Cyrus smiled and tossed the ball towards it.  “Alright, if you insist…”

He watched the ball shake, once, twice, three times, then the satisfying click of a pokemon well caught.

“Cyan you can’t leave his friend here.”  He scolded.

“I’m not taking it!  It’s mean!”

Cyrus and Lincoln both gave him the look.  He caught the Eevee.

They made it halfway back before the thunder started to break apart the sky and the rain started to pour, taking refuge under a bridge to wait it out with their new little friends.

************

Hop, Basil, Marnie, Milo’s brother, and the new champion all met in Circhester for the most epic snowball fight of epic snowball fights.  They had invited Bede to join as well, but he hadn’t gotten back to them. Basil promised them he’d come around to their games eventually, after all they always had fun playing when they were little, he just needed a little more time to adjust.

Bede had also told him he was going to see Rose, and Basil could only imagine what that had done to him.

He pushed the thought out of his mind while they played and laughed, he hadn’t had this much fun in a long time and he was going to enjoy every second of it.  He rolled his eyes when Hop tried and failed desperately to flirt with the Champion, and rolled them doubly when the Champion gave his attempts in return to an oblivious Hop.  It was like watching Nanu and Kabu try to dance around their relationship and it was painful to watch.

The all eventually got tired out and stopped for lunch, piling into the cozy little restaurant and chatting happily.  Basil was thrilled that they had all accepted him in as a friend, and he quickly lost track of time as they drank cocoa and gossiped about their siblings.

The snow outside was starting to pile up.  The Flying Taxi’s stopped flying over Circhester.

************

“He should be home by now…” Kabu was trying not to let himself relax too much, but Nanu’s arms were so inviting.  “Something’s not right, I told him to be home before it got bad out…”

Nanu pulled him close again, kissing his neck.  “He’s fine, Kabu.  He’s just doing what we did when we were his age.  He probably lost track of time, he’s out with friends.  They’ll keep each other safe.”

They were snuggled together on the couch, watching the rain come down through the window as the lighting blinded them yet again.

“I don’t like him being out in this weather.  The rain is one thing but Circhester?  The snow gets so bad you can’t see your hands in front of your face what if he gets lost?”

“He’s with friends! He won’t get lost.”  He turned Kabu’s eyes away from the window and towards his own.  “You’ve gotta let the kid have a little breathing room, babe.  He’ll be okay.”  He planted a kiss on Kabu’s lips, smiling at the small moan of frustration it brought and Kabu pulled him even closer.

Both of their phones started going off, startling them out of their kiss.

“What in Arceus name..?”

Kabu grabbed his first, scrambling to his feet.  “No more flying taxis.  I’m going to go get him it’s getting too dangerous out there—”  As he spoke, a crash of lightning shattered the earth and the wind tossed a large branch against the window.

Nanu pushed him back down onto the couch.  “Stay here, I’ll go look for him.  He’ll feel safer with you here if he does happen to show up.”  He tossed on his jacket.  “But he’s fine!  He’ll be fine!  Keep your phone on you!”

Kabu didn’t want to stay.  He didn’t want to sit and feel helpless, but he knew Nanu was right.  He was okay, he was with friends.  They’d keep each other safe…

************

The three strongest trainers in Galar gathered in a huddle in the lobby of the Battle Tower (Aside from the new champion, of course, but behind closed doors Leon swears his win was a stroke of luck and not a feat of skill).  Piers, Leon, and Raihan spoke in hushed whispers, just loud enough to be heard over the raging storm outside.

“What about Marnie? He’s had his eyes on Spikemuth for as long as I can remember, I won’t let him hurt Marn, I’ll kill him before he gets the chance…”

“I don’t think he wants to hurt anyone.”  Leon soothed. “I don’t think he’s going to come after anyone.  But we have to be there for Bede and Basil, because he’ll try to get in contact with them and if he does, it’ll be bad news if no one’s there to intervene if his intentions aren’t good.”

“And the Champion?”

“Your brother’s gonna be alright, Rai.  Don’t worry about it.  We just have to keep our wits about us, and—”

They looked up as the bell on the door rang, announcing the stranger’s presence.

“Excuse me sir, the battle tower is closed…”

The stranger was wrapped in a large, ill fitting coat, with a hood that covered his eyes, and a scarf that covered the rest of his face.  He unwrapped slowly, ignoring the warning.

“The battle tower is closed, you need to leave.”  Leon warned again, hand twitching near his pokeballs.

The hood came down, and the scarf came off, and the stranger had revealed himself, though he didn’t look much like himself anymore, a shadow of his former grandeur.

“Please… I need your help.”

#my precious baby basil #kabu #gym leader kabu #dad kabu #galactic leader cyrus #cyrus #pokemon oc #nanu #nanu/kabu #marnie #hop #piers #leon #raihan #ooohohoho #this was about to be the chapter that never was I was very upset #i lost everything... #pokemon sword and shield #pokemon swsh

[tarotchariot]

Affirmators! cards review + pick a card

As you may be aware, I enjoy using affirmations and sharing them. Naturally, my attention was drawn to a card deck simply for positive affirmations.

I have a fair collection of tarot and oracle cards, and haven’t gotten anything new in a while. So of course, I am very excited to share a review of these affirmation cards, pictures and insights available from them. This is simply a personal desire, and I am so bursting with excitement to share a pick a card at the end.

So why don’t we have a look together?

Factual start: the creator and writer of this deck is Suzi Barett who lives in the US.

To begin with, the outer box is very hardy, well designed with slightly embedded text. I am absolutely a sucker for the texture available on packaging or boxes - makes it feel luxurious. The title reading “Affirmators!” has a shine and reflection whenever you move the box. There are other little details I appreciate, with the gold shiny dots on the border as well as the stars with the rainbow.

On the back it is what you would expect, a few example pictures of cards, with a summary which I pictured, but will also provide text for:

“It’s been proven* that making positive statements out loud can radically improve your mood, relationships and life experiences. We’re not ones to argue with science**, so we’re giving it a shot! Forty cards offer unique daily affirmations without the self-helpy self-seriousness - plus ten bonus cards to boost you on your toughest days!”

Another thing I noticed very quickly, was text on the outer edges that were amusing, and just nice to see - adding to the experience.

Delightfully, when I had taken off the packaging to hold the box, it revealed - easily and smoothly - the way you would access the cards. I was surprised and tickled by this, and I enjoy the way you can very simply slide the inner box out from both the top, or bottom.

The colour is very bright and pleasing to the eye, and striking. The way to get hold of the cards (other than just tipping them out like I tend to) is using a black tab, as pictured. Overall the way these cards are stored is pleasant and very natural.

Inside, what I am met with is a very colourful combination, and an introduction card, as well as a side card advertising others for different spheres of life. (which was so tempting by the way)

It’s a very simple introduction, inviting you to just be yourself, be creative, do what you want with them, basically. 

The quality of these cards are ok, objectively speaking - I’ve seen better, I’ve seen worse. They are flexible, not the strongest, however they aren’t too weak. There’s nothing to complain about, but I do wonder if they will wear easily from use. The back is the same as the picture presented on the box - the unicorn, rabbit, rainbow - just a basic version without the shine. The border is a plain white.

After noticing this, this is when my pick a card reading commences!

Final thoughts:

Overall I really do appreciate the value. The text is amusing, although some might find it difficult dealing with the long text descriptions. Personally, I enjoy them and love to read all the way through. 

The card stock isn’t amazing, but it’s acceptable in my opinion. The packaging is amazing and creates a really positive experience.

The vibe, the energy, the impressions from what is written or illustrated is very positive, peaceful and amusing. I do not regret purchasing these cards at all - they are genuinely a delight. The bonus cards are text with no images, which is a little disappointing but I’m fine with it. However, at the same time, the bonus cards can be an indicator if used in readings, and I value the addition.

I recommend them, for people just wanting a bit of positivity or peace in their lives, or if readers want to incorporate them with divination techniques.

PICK A CARD READING

From left to right, please pick a card/number/gem for your affirmation. It's worth it to have a moment and be in a quiet space, and breathe deeply 3 times, asking what will help you feel/think more positively.

You can either let your intuition guide you to a card, a stone might speak to your or you might hear a number in your mind. There are many ways.

The stones from left to right are: rose quartz, amethyst, clear quartz.

STOP HERE

Have you chosen? 

...Go on then.

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CARD 1 - ROSE QUARTZ

You got a bonus card! This is so exciting!

I love how it mentions to get greedy. In reality, it’s not greedy at all to want the best for yourself, and the happiest life! But however you might feel about it - gleefully say/write/think what you want. Say it with verve, speak it with excitement because you know you definitely should have the nice things.

And it’s true! You are magic!

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CARD 2 - AMETHYST

I love this card so much! Whether romantic, platonic or business you deserve the best! Many times, we tend to lower our expectations, or find it hard to accept kind people into our lives from insecurities. Today is the day to really build yourself up! You are amazing, and who wouldn’t want to know you? There are some people missing out! My personal recommendation for you would be to do a list of 3 (or more if you’re feeling it) wonderful qualities that you have!

Take this as a wonderful indicator if you’re searching for a partnership too, that you are worthy of much more than you even imagine right now!

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CARD 3 - CLEAR QUARTZ

Group 3, this gave two cards and you may not be able to see the text clearly. I will write it out here for you, if you have trouble:

Peacefulness:

“I have a peaceful, tranquil, and untroubled heart. This is where I choose to spend my time. I can bring guests... but any person, thought or event that brings drama or chaos is not invited. My heart is special property, and I’m going to keep it that way so we can all keep enjoying it and I can get my security deposit back.”

Engagement:

“Today, I make the conscious choice to engage with the world in an active way. I’ll take a new route and talk to strangers. I will smell flowers and pet dogs, and maybe walk around barefoot for a while if I’m not inside a 7-11. At the very least, I’ll have a day that’s slightly more interesting than average. And at the most, I’ll have a startling epiphany or make a friend who will change my life forever. No pressure.”

Together, I can’t help but think these cards can mean you are feeling protective over your heart, or well being and could be finding it difficult to get out there again and trust. I feel it’s likely saying you have the wisdom and boundary setting skills available to ensure you do get out there, or socialise, and still maintain integrity, refusing to accept negativity or drama. You can still have fun!

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This turned out to be rather lengthy, and I just want to thank you for the interest, and your staying power. 

I’ve just been so excited to share this, and I hope the pick a card may have lightened you up - I know it certainly did for me!

Have an absolutely wonderful, glorious and most amazing shiny sunny day!

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