#maybe inviting less disaster into my post

[ganondoodle]

so, doing this as an extra post bc i dont want to spam op nor invite more disaster into their post (sorry)

(i get annoyed, i get frustrated, but i rarely get pissed off, so if this sounds aggressive to you, it is; i have had enough of arguing with people -even if most of that arguing has happened on twitter-)

someone had replied (and later apparently deleted) something along the lines of "well zelda wanted to restore hyrule at the end of botw and what is so bad about ganondorf always being the bad guy in the way that he is?"

so first off, while i know hyrule and KINGDOM of hyrule is often used as an equally interchangeable word to refer to the world there, i dont think she meant the kingdom or its or its monarchy when she said that (does she? i dont have the end in my head rn and pretty sure its a lil different than english anyway) and much more the LAND of hyrule, its still in shambles even if people have found ways to live with it- that is an interpretation of me mostly, you can think what you want in that regard idc

secondly .... im not gonna get into that rant bc you cannot be seriosuly asking what is bad about how ganondorf is presented, treated in the games (espeically in totk) and his role and "writing" (oh geez i dont know maybe all the racism and stereotypes?? also, frankly boring ass writing, if your villain can be replaced by a cloud of toxic goo incapable of speech and nothing would change except saving money for voice actors that dont fit the role that is not a great look- hes never gotten much but totk is a new low)

then theres this reply

astro-shark3113 replied: "You're kidding right? If she cared about reinstating the monarchy then why is the castle still in disrepair after five years? Why does she become a teacher and live in a cottage with her boyfriend instead of taking on duties as princess? She clearly wants to help people and be a leader but she can do that without wanting to be a Queen. Please be real"

i am not kidding and i AM being real, i think you need to look at the game without your rose tinted glasses for a second; the castle is still in ruin? what the hell do you expect, theres no soldiers and very few servants left, repairing anything is quite impossible in that time and frankly not a priority (not proof of her not caring lol) also there is a plan for it at the very least given the camps with the hyrule crest all over it in the ruins of castle town- we dont SEE her as a teacher, or living a "normal" life, that happens in between the game, its flavor text, what HAPPENS in the game is her being taught a lessson on who she needs to be and what hyrule needs to be (pretty in your face too, she gets sent to paradise past of the "first" king that is some supposedly godly thing from the HEAVENS and watches him and his queen die at the hands of the eviiil guy, the last scene in the game mimics perfectly the scene where everyone that god king got under his rule swears undying loyalty to her ffs); she does live in that house, but what other option is there, set up camp in the collapsing throne room all alone?? nigh everyone from that time is long dead and the only one she actually knows is link who happens to have a house (bc impa doesnt care i guess idk), with her ""boyfriend"" is also interesting, a "boyfriend" that apparently is locked in the basement, lives in the woods or straight up dematerlializes when theres no big bad in need of stabbing bc why the hell does no one fucking know him in hateno??? not even the kids that come to the house EVERY SINGLE DAY?? and taking on duties as a princess, she very much does? just bc she doesnt get physically carried around in a castle doesnt mean she isnt doing royal stuff (also, again, that happens BETWEEN the games, not actually in totk), she still sees herself as the princess, everyone calls her that, she herself calls herself that (if the memorial stones are anything to go by) and everyone listens to the most overtly stupid and nonsensical stuff that zelda puppet says (even her friends follow that order without even asking back???) after over 100 years of there not being a kingdom as such its pretty weird how everyone immediately, even the ones not alive for the calamity event, snaps into blindly following her orders

"she can still lead without being a queen", did we play the same game?? totk? TEARS of the KINGDOM?? (its zeldas tears, she IS the kingdom) that game?? the game couldnt be more directly telling you that its whole point is that royal family holy and good and how much everyone has to sacrifice to uphold the holy kingdom bc its the only thing that keeps evil man from overtaking it!! including turnign herself into a farmable, glorified stone pedestal for the entirety of the actual game and then that sacrifice not meanign shit bc she just gets deus ex machina'd back (i didnt need her to stay a dragon, though it would have been the better choice if she still didnt get an active part in the game i would kill for her to have been a capable companion instead of the stupid ghost sages, and you dont even get to actually do anything for it, it just happens), not even the nuclear pebble is lost, how great! she and everyone else that is a leader of their people has a nuclear pebble now!! they will not let a bad evil man be a threat ever again!! like the point to bring her back in that utterly unsatisfying way is that otherwise the royal line wouldnt exist anymore, its a blessing of her ancient ancestors!! woohooo!!

and the thing is, i LIKE botw zelda, i liked her character, that she wasnt the typically maiden princessy type, her struggle (even if i find the way she unlocked her powers lame), i do NOT like totk zelda, after the intro of the game she is a princessy maiden standing prettily at the side of the god king that rules the only thing keeping evil at bay, the level of how much totk disrespects her makes me mad on her behalf but i have ranted about that alone enough as well

and with this i am DONE talking about this game, i have ranted so much about it, made my points carefully clear over and over, said that i dont have the nerves left to be nice anymore about it given how much shit alone on twitter i had to live through just bc i dared mildly critisizing the damn game, if you comment some snarky "be real" thing again im just gonna go straight to blockign people bc i am done with this

#ganondoodles talks #ganondoodles rants #zelda #totk critical #taggign with that #maybe inviting less disaster into my post #didnt think id encounter this kind of stuff on here #tumblrs been so much better than twitter my god

[andreafmn]

Speak - Chapter 3

Word Count: 3K

Story Description: Bella Swan was a disaster when Edward had left. Deciding she needed a little help, Charlie Swan receives with open arms his younger daughter (Y/N) Swan. She helps Bella during her depression and becomes inseparable from her long-lost friend Jacob. What she didn’t expect was falling for a hotheaded short-tempered silver wolf.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Twilight, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Stephanie Meyer and Summit Entertainment. The only thing I own is Swan Reader insert, any upcoming characters, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ storyline.

Chapter: 3/?

A/N: oh oh, Paul seems to be sneaking into (Y/N)'s thoughts... Also changed up the story to third person POV, cause I couldn't continue in first. 😅

If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories. You can request at any time any story or one-shot you desire. Hope you enjoy, and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Chapter 3

For the past couple of days, a smile had been plastered on (Y/N)’s face. The nightly phone calls with Jake had started growing longer, even though they didn’t have much more to talk about. But his voice was a comforting embrace during Bella’s tortured screams. As time passed, the girl just seemed to get worse.

As Christmas day finally approached, Charlie and (Y/N) thought she’d be happier. At least just a bit better. It had always been a cheery holiday regardless of their familial situation. Renée made sure that the girls woke up to presents under the tree and spare cookies “Santa” had left behind. Even if Bella never said she liked the theatrics of it all, (Y/N) could tell she enjoyed the thought that went into it. Those were moments the younger Swan was sure would overshadow whatever black cloud that was hanging over her.

Granted, she had no way of knowing how deeply in love Bella was with this Edward character. In less than a year, he was able to cause more damage than their parent’s separation had ever been able to, and she had been devastated – for a bit.

“Hey, Bells,” (Y/N) tiptoed into her room. Much like every other day, she sat on her office chair staring into the endlessness of the woods behind our house. “I was gonna wrap up some presents for tomorrow. Mind if I do it in here for a bit of company?”

A grunt of agreement.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes as she placed everything on the bed, unloading the unnecessary amount of presents in her arms. “You know, Uncle Billy invited us over to spend Christmas with him and Jake. Dad is gonna try to put on a barbecue in this snow,” she chuckled, and she could have sworn she had heard the skin on her cheeks creak up into a smile. “I still remember when we were little, and he tried so hard to light the barbecue during a blizzard. And the wind just kept blowing the flame off. He was so pissed and packed the steaks away.

But, yeah, I’ve never understood why they like meat so much. I mean we’re in freezing weather and he still wants to do a cookout.”

“Just be thankful there’s something he can cook,” she croaked out. (Y/N) almost leaped off the bed when she heard the sound. But treating her like a wild animal was the best route – no sudden sounds or movements. “And that you eat meat.”

“Right, the vegetarian thing. I mean, I can make you anything, so you don’t feel left out.” (Y/N) softly prodded around the situation, maybe she could catch her sister in a moment where she’d finally agree to leave her bedroom. “I’m sure everyone would be more than delighted if you were there.”

“I’m not going, (Y/N),” Bella whispered. Her shoulders slumped once more and all the liveliness that (Y/N) could have sworn had returned to her body, dissipated in a breath.

“Come on, Bella,” she complained. “You need to leave the house for another place other than school and the Newton’s store. You were broken up with, you’re not dead.”

Bella’s body morphed back into the statue-like position she rested in most of her days. Her sights were once again frozen on the window, searching for something – someone – that simply was not there. (Y/N) had joked to their dad that they should throw the chair away while she was at school, but as each day passed it seemed like more of a possibility.

“Fine, Bells,” she sighed and gathered all her things. “You know, this guy must have been heaven on earth, cause no one’s worth this much pain.”

It’s difficult to pull someone from a hole they created for themselves. Bella was stuck deep in this hole, but she was making no effort to get out of it, regardless of how many people were trying to help her. (Y/N) found it almost baffling how many people cared for her sister, but she only cared for the one guy that left her to rot.

The girl finished wrapping the rest of the presents in her room before starting a quick dinner for her father and herself, knowing Bella would most likely not eat anything, like every other night. (Y/N) knew her irritation was visible. She loved her sister, but her behavior was starting to become unbearable. A couple of more months of this and she was sure she’d go insane. It had been four months and, as time passed, she seemed to be getting worse rather than better. It was exhausting.

After finishing up a pot of spaghetti and meat sauce, (Y/N) left a plate served inside the microwave and a note on the fridge for her dad. She was far too exhausted to clean up and left all the dirty dishes in the sink. Dad could clean it, she thought. Instead, she went up the stairs and plopped onto her bed, allowing the warm comforter and the pillow to pull her into a deep sleep.

But before she could truly succumb to slumber, her phone rang. Jacob’s name lit up the screen, and under the words, “come outside” were displayed. Instantly, a smile spread across the girl’s face. If there was anyone that could put her out of my sour mood, it would be him.

Running out the door, she put on her boots and wrapped a jacket around her body. She was met with the visual of Jacob in his truck wearing a devilish grin on his face. He reached over and opened the passenger door for (Y/N) and beaconed her inside. Trying to avoid spending more time in the cold she jumped into the truck, sighing contentedly as warmth engulfed her.

“Hey,” he smiled. Jacob leaned over the center console, placing one hand on her cheek and pulling her toward him before placing a kiss on her lips. “Couldn’t wait until tomorrow to see you.” 

“I noticed,” she chuckled shyly. There was no reason for her to still be nervous around him, but she simply couldn’t help the butterflies in her stomach. What she didn’t know at the time was that the butterflies were a warning. “I’m glad you couldn’t wait.”

“Were you able to convince Bella to come?” 

“I tried,” she sighed. “There’s just no getting through to her right now.”

“Man, that Cullen bastard really did a number on her.” She could see the anger coming from Jacob. It was like a burning aura that surrounded him. His teeth were gritted, and his hands had closed into a tight fist. “Where does he get off abandoning her like that? If I were him, I would have never let her go. She doesn’t deserve that.”

That had stung. (Y/N) knew he was probably not over his silly crush on Bella, but to mention being with her while being with (Y/N), hurt. But she knew she couldn’t bring that up without causing a fight. “Can we please not talk about that,” the girl said instead. “I feel like my life has become Bella Swan’s Days of our Lives.”

“Yeah, sorry,” he laughed awkwardly. “You know, something weird happened the other day.” 

“What happened?” 

“You remember that guy that was staring at you at the bonfire a couple of days ago?” 

“Paul something?”

“Lahote, yeah,” he corrected. “He came over and told me I should stay away from you. Did something happen there?” 

He was... jealous? The question came out of nowhere. (Y/N) thought she had been clear that she had never met him before seeing him that night, and that she wanted nothing to do with him. Although ever since that night she could not get his addictive stare out of her head. When she closed her eyes at night, even if she started by thinking of Jake, her brain couldn’t help but dissolve into his piercing brown gaze. Her head would not shake the image of the boy from it.

“Jake, I already told you that you have nothing to worry about there,” she smiled at him in an attempt to subdue his anger. “I don’t know who this Paul guy thinks he is, but I am not interested in him in the slightest.” 

“It’s just, the gall this guy has to think he has some kind of claim over you. As if he doesn’t know who you are to me.” 

“What am I to you exactly?” she teased. They had yet to have any conversation about where this relationship was headed. It had been such a short amount of time, but they had known each other for a lifetime. "I would like to know." 

“Well, I’m hoping you’d like to be my girlfriend,” he grinned, any sign of anger disappearing. “What do you say?” 

 “I don’t know,” (Y/N) giggled coyly. “Maybe I should keep my options open just in case Paul decides to ask me out. Wouldn’t want to close out the market.” 

“You’re funny.” 

He leaned in once more for a kiss, but this one was different. Jake scooched closer to (Y/N), doing his best to deepen it. She ran her fingers through his long hair as his hands rested on the sides of her face. This was desperate and passionate, just the thing to push Paul Lahote out of her mind.

As the windows started fogging and their hands started traveling south, a knock on the window startled the teenagers apart.

“I really hope that’s not you, Jacob Black, with my daughter,”  Charlie spoke through the fogged-up window, flashlight in hand.

Jake flashed her an apologetic smile before rolling down the window on his side. "Hey, sheriff. How’s your night been?” 

“Well, it was a very uneventful one at first,” he grumbled. “Until I came home, and I saw your truck with misty windows and my daughter in the passenger seat. Hi, (Y/N).”

“He~ey, dad.” She gave him a small wave and covered her reddened face with her hands. “We were just talking.”

“Last time I checked talking doesn’t fog up windows, honey,” her father countered. “Let’s go, (Y/N). Jacob, get home.”

She jumped out of the truck after squeezing Jake’s hand as reassurance and joined her father’s side. Promptly, he pushed her behind him, acting as a barrier between Jacob and the girl.

“We’ll see you tomorrow, Jacob.”

“Alright, Mr. Swan,” he responded. She could tell he was swallowing the laughter that had bubbled in his throat and was threatening to spill. “Bye, (Y/N).”

“See you, Jake.”

“Get in the house, (Y/N).”

Her father’s reaction was perplexing. He’d always liked Jake. He even joked when they were little that they would make a cute couple. Now, he was acting as if he’d caught her with a dangerous stranger. She wondered if he’d reacted this way when Bella first brought Edward around.

“What was that spectacle outside, (Y/N)?” Charlie finally broke the silence, fuming. “What exactly did you think you were doing?”

“Um, I was kissing my boyfriend,” she responded matter-of-factly. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

“Boyfriend? Since when is Jacob Black your boyfriend?”

“As of five minutes ago, roughly?” She was trying to liven the mood adding a tone of comedy, but she could tell her father was having none of it. “I don’t get why you’re so upset, dad. You’ve always loved Jake.”

“I’ve already got one heartbroken daughter,” he sighed. Charlie rubbed his temples, hiding the fear in his face. “I don’t know what I would do if both of you were. Jake’s a good kid but I could never forgive him if he hurt you, honey.”

“Let’s not get ahead of this, dad,” she chuckled dryly. (Y/N) had faith in her relationship, but she couldn’t help the doubt that crept into her head when her dad mentioned Jake breaking her heart. “We literally just became official. You’re ending us before we’ve even started. One thing I can tell you is that I won’t be like Bella.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t know that. I just don’t want to see you in the same pain your sister is going through.”

“Dad, I understand you’re worried,” she smiled at her father. To calm him, (Y/N) grabbed his calloused hands and gave them a squeeze. “But I am not Bella, and Jacob is not Edward. Have a little faith in me, yeah?”

“I can’t help it, (Y/N),” Charlie said. “It kills me to see Bella like this. I don’t want you to go through that.”

“I know, and I promise you that you will never have to go through this again with me,” she said. “Now, why don’t you go eat and go to bed? We have a long day tomorrow.”

“Alright, darling,” he responded defeated. “Good night.”

“Good night, dad.”

(Y/N) disappeared up the stairs, passing by her sister’s room. She mumbled a good night to her stoic sister before finally getting into her bed to hopefully sleep this time. She wanted to rest. Yet, when she closed her eyes the same ones that had been haunting her dreams stared back.

Something about him called to her. She only knew his name and still, he took possession of her thoughts. Deep inside her, something begged her to get closer to him. There was no reason for him to be in her head, much less in her dreams.

She was standing in a clearing, looking over a still river. Her body was clothed in a white flowing dress and her feet were bare. (Y/N) turned, taking in the scenery and breathing the fresh air. The sun felt warm against her skin, beckoning a smile to her face.

“You look beautiful, darling,” a voice spoke. “Absolutely radiant.”

“Thank you, Paul. And you look as handsome as ever,” she giggled. “Come here.”

He walked slowly to her, a playful grin propped on his face. His arms circled her waist and wrapped her in a tight hug, lifting her from the ground and spinning her around. As he slid her back to the ground, he placed a hand on her cheek, his thumb running through her cheek. (Y/N) closed her eyes and enjoyed the touch, his warmth feeling better than the one the sun provided.  

She felt different with him. Unlike with Jake, Paul didn’t make her feel butterflies. He made her feel calm, at peace. There was a homely feeling to being in his arms. Like she had found the right place to be in. She fit perfectly between them like she was made to be there.

(Y/N) allowed him to pull her toward the water, sinking into the comfortable river. She gave him a smile and shrieked happily as the coldness seeped through her bones. Her white dress quickly soaked and his denim shorts darkened.

“This water is freezing, Paul,” she whispered to him. He kept her close, his arms wrapped around her. “Don’t you dare let go.”

“I would never, beautiful,” he grinned. (Y/N) could feel his breath tickling her face, cooling the droplets of water that had splashed on it “I’ve got you now, and I’m never planning on letting you go.”

“Is that a threat?” she joked, copying the smile on his face.

“It’s a promise, darling,” Paul said. “It’s a promise.”

He closed the space between them and pressed their lips together. (Y/N) felt sparks running through her body, the feeling of belonging washing over her. This is where she was meant to be. He was who she was meant to be with.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you more, Paul.”

(Y/N) woke up with a startle, her breathing uneven and heavy. Her whole body was overheated. Her blanket felt too warm. She didn’t understand what that dream meant. More importantly, why it felt so real. She knew she loved Jake, and she didn’t even know Paul. What pull did he have on her that she kept dreaming of him? 

She got up from her bed, going downstairs to get a cup of water. She was startled when she found her sister staring at the sink, the faucet running, and an overfilled glass under it. (Y/N) ran to the sink, turning off the water and putting a rag on her sister’s hand to soak up the water that had run down her arm.

“What’re you doing, Bells?” (Y/N) muttered.

“S-sorry,” Bella stammered finally realizing what she had done. “I didn’t realize.”

“It’s okay,” she sighed. “Why don’t you sit and drink that water? Have you had anything to eat? I can make you a quick sandwich.”

“Uh, sure,” the girl breathed out. “I, uh, overheard you and Charlie.”

“Oh?”

“You two are together?” Bella questioned. (Y/N) was surprised that her sister seemed interested in her life. Rarely was the time she inquired in (Y/N)’s life. “I didn’t know you liked him.”

“You’ve never asked,” she chuckled dryly. “But we’ve just been talking these past few days. Most we’ve done is kiss a few times. Tonight, he asked me to be his girlfriend.”

“Well, that’s nice.” (Y/N) placed a cheese sandwich before her, and Bella started picking at it and placing small bites into her mouth. “I always thought… never mind.”

“What, Bells? What did you always think?” She knew what her sister was thinking. Bella had always known Jake liked him. If she didn’t, she at least had to have an inkling. “That he liked you?”

“I thought so…”

“Well, maybe he did,” she sighed. “But that’s neither here nor there. He’s with me now, and that’s that.”

(Y/N) got up from the dinner table, leaving Bella by herself. She had no idea where that conversation was going, and she didn’t want to see where it would go. Her whole life she’d been second to Bella. To their parents, their friends – though, they wouldn’t notice – to Jake. This was the first time she felt she was being put first, and Bella wasn’t going to take it from her. Not this time. As much as she loved her sister, it was time to put herself first.  

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[flowercrown-bard]

the results are in! this choose your own adventure-esque fic is going to be a somewhat lighthearted Geraskier fic set at a masquerade

For some reason I can’t add the poll to this post, so at the end of the chapter, there will be a link to the poll. sorry for making this more complicated than probably necessary

wc: 1429

AO3

'Choose wisely', said the fool (part 1)

“This is unbelievable!” Jaskier snatched the parchment out of Geralt’s hands, skimming its contents, though he already knew what they were. The wax seal showing an intricate rose design had revealed it all. “How did you do it?”

“Hm?” Geralt folded his arms and lifted an eyebrow in amusement, as he watched Jaskier fret over the letter.

“Oh, don’t you hmm me,” Jaskier said petulantly, though his heart skipped a beat at the little smile Geralt quirked. Even after years of friendship, he still couldn’t get enough of Geralt’s teasing tone and the easy familiarity with which the witcher had started treating him once he had gotten used to the idea that Jaskier genuinely wanted to be his friend. And it was true. Jaskier did love being friends with him, travelling beside him, sharing drinks and laughs as friends were wont to do. There was just the tiny detail that a not-so-secret part of him wanted to have something else with Geralt as well. As much as Jaskier told himself he was satisfied with sharing a bed with Geralt out of convenience, he found himself wishing that he were allowed to sling an arm around Geralt’s waist and pull him closer, so he could press his head between his shoulder blades and fall asleep listening to his slow heartbeat or wake him up with a kiss. Gods, how he wanted to kiss him.

He coughed, shaking those thoughts off. He could deal with them later. Or never. That would also be acceptable. For now, he had other priorities. Namely -

“How, by the mighty clap of Melitele’s arsecheeks, did you manage to get invited to Duchess Ruta’s betrothal feast? And I - the Continent’s greatest and most famous bard - did not?”

Geralt’s lips twitched.

“Maybe your infamy for sleeping with engaged people isn’t very helpful.”

“Well, neither should your infamy for claiming the law of surprise at Pavetta’s betrothal feast be. And yet…” He smacked the invitation with one hand, creating a satisfyingly dramatic sound. “Maybe she hadn’t heard about that.”

Jaskier let out a disbelieving huff. He couldn’t fathom the idea of any noble who was worth their salt - which, admittedly, weren’t a lot- hadn’t heard about the disaster that had happened in Cintra. Not least of all, because it had made for a fantastic story. A cursed knight, a witcher sparing a monster and therefore ensuring that love won out in the end? Really, what was not to love? Jaskier just had to put that in a ballad and the song had spread across the Continent like a wildfire.

“Unbelievable,” Jaskier said again, mostly in hopes of seeing Geralt grin once more. As much as he acted like a slighted lover, Jaskier was proud of his friend. The Geralt from a couple of years ago would have never been even considered as a guest to a noble’s feast. The only thing less likely than that was the possibility of Geralt actually accepting.

“If you’re so mad about it, I take it you’re not coming?” Geralt asked nonchalantly and turned to his bags to pull out his alchemy set, clinking the bottles together.

“I repeat myself.” Jaskier waved the parchment through the air, despite Geralt not looking at him. “I wasn’t lucky enough to be invited.”

“Read the last line.”

With a frown, Jaskier did as he was bid. “Please be aware that you may bring no more than one additional guest with you, if you so wish.” His mouth dropped open. “Geralt, are you saying what I think you’re saying? Because if you’re not, I shall write a heartbreaking ballad about the cruelty of one Geralt of Rivia for toying with my hope.”

Geralt snorted and rolled his eyes at Jaskier’s dramatics.

“I wouldn’t ever hear the end of it if I didn't take you."

"You won't hear the end of it if you take me either,” Jaskier warned. “You know I'll make a song out of it, right?"

"I know." Geralt lowered his head as he sorted through his bottles, making his hair fall down and obscure his features. Still, Jaskier was sure he could see the hint of a smile. "It sounded like the sort of thing you'd like."

Jaskier's heart fluttered like a humming bird's wings.

"And exactly like the sort of thing you hate." He dropped the pretence of being affronted. Softly, he added, "You'd go there for me?"

Geralt shrugged. "Rich people have the best alcohol and food. Also, it's a masquerade. People won't bother me if they don't recognize me." He titled his head just enough that Jaskier could see the mischievous glint in his eyes. "And if they don't recognize you, then I don't have to look out for any cuckolds seeking revenge."

Jaskier bit his lip to stop himself from making a quip about how his face wasn't the only recognizable part of him. He didn't need to challenge his luck that much. Who knew when Geralt would offer to take him to a ball again?

"I'd love to go with you."

"Hmm." Geralt sounded pleased and for some reason relieved, as if there had ever been a chance that Jaskier wouldn't accept the invitation. "You better buy a mask then."

Jaskier lit up. He bounced on his heels.

"What are you going as? Oh! We could match!"

Geralt snorted. "How about we don't tell each other and see if we still recognize each other at the ball?"

Jaskier lifted his brows and let his eyes roam pointedly over the bulk of Geralt's shoulders and his very recognisable white hair.

"Sure," he said, drawing out the word. "Say, that's not just an excuse because you don't have a mask yet, is it?"

"Of course not."

"Liar." Jaskier grinned. "But fine. Challenge accepted. I could recognise you by your horse-smell alone. Speaking of which," he wrinkled his nose. "I'll leave you to your stinky alchemy. I don't need to watch you crush drowner brains again."

"Pity," Geralt said drily. "Whatever should i do without you to distract me."

"Oh, I'm distracting you?" Jaskier teased. "Did you just admit you think I'm pretty?"

Geralt grunted, but didn't deny it.

Jaskier very much didn't flee from the room so that Geralt wouldn't hear his heart picking up speed. He simply was eager to find a suitable mask to wear to the ball.

As he made his way to the heart of the town, he was already coming up with ideas. Granted, none of them would do any good at hiding his identity from Geralt, but he was well aware that that would be impossible anyway, what with Geralt being able to pick out the sound of his heartbeat in a crowd. No, Jaskier had a different goal in mind with his mask.

The first idea he had was perhaps the most obvious one. If he got a mask that looked like a wolf, he would be matching Geralt, even if Geralt had a differently themed mask. Everyone would know that he was the White Wolf’s companion. The idea of wearing something that undeniably marked him as belonging to Geralt made his heart beat faster and his cheeks heat up.

Then again, there were other options. It was a silly idea, of course, but… what if Jaskier went all out and got a really good disguise? He was sure that the troupe of actors he had chatted with earlier that day would let him borrow some of their costumes and props. Some cheap charm to change his eye colour to look more yellow, two prop swords, some light armour, maybe a wig… It wouldn't take much to make him look like a witcher. Geralt would be so annoyed but it would be so much fun, if only to see his reaction. Jaskier had to giggle just imagining it: following Geralt around with an exaggerated frown and artificially deep voice to imitate him. It would be hilarious!

But maybe annoying Geralt wasn't the right thing to do. After all, he had been kind enough to invite Jaskier along. Jaskier shouldn't punish him for that by teasing him. Maybe he should instead strive to make Geralt smile. And there was one thing that without fail would always make him smile: Horses. Jaskier would look absolutely terrible in a horse mask, but a little public humiliation would be worth it if it meant seeing Geralt light up at the sight of him and maybe even laugh a little, if Jaskier was lucky.  

The more he thought about it, the harder the choice became.

make the choice for Jaskier here

tagging: @fingons-rad-harp @claracaboozle @thequeeninyellowlace @

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #witcher #fic #fanfic #my writing #choose wisely said the fool

[roachleakage]

Spoilers for Dragon Quest Builders 2: the evolution of the Builder's facial expression

So, a lot of people in the fandom have pointed out that for a good chunk of Dragon Quest Builders 2, the Builder is described as having a "dopey smile". Which is very much true, characters comment on it all the time. But most of the posts I've seen on this say that the character loses their smile during the Moonbrooke arc, and based on my recent playthrough, it actually happens a bit sooner: on Skelcatraz Island.

Now, this isn't full on Sad Builder yet. That phase does in fact not start until Moonbrooke. But no one on Skelcatraz mentions the Builder smiling - rather, they describe the Builder's expression as, more or less, brainless. No thoughts head empty, but otherwise neutral. And while this could, out of context, just be the Skelcatraz guards being rude, it takes no time at all for someone in Moonbrooke to describe them the same way.

What this suggests is that, sometime between the end of Khrumbul-Dun and the start of their stay at Skelcatraz, Builder had already encountered something bad enough to make them stop smiling.

So what caused it? Well, let's look at the available evidence. This is the worst setback the Builder's had so far, but is that likely to be the reason? They've already made it through the Deitree being destroyed and rebuilt, which proves if nothing else that they have an irrationally deep wellspring of optimism when it comes to facing adversity. Could it be because their island recruits insisted on devoting the biggest plot of buildable land on the Isle of Awakening to a gigantic fuckoff pyramid? Probably not. That's just me who's cranky about that.

But let's take a look at what's been happening up to this point. First off, the Builder invited disaster to their island when they decided to let the Children of Hargon missionaries stick around. For the first time in the game's plotline, their friendly and optimistic nature made things unequivocally worse.

Another major cause of worry is all the headaches Malroth has been having, and the increasingly worrying statements he's been making about himself. While the Builder doesn't seem to know that Malroth has been hearing voices, they definitely would have noticed that his headaches have been getting worse. And while Malroth's most worrying comments don't come until after Skelcatraz, he's already said and done plenty of things to warrant concern - for his well-being if nothing else. And once they manage to escape from Skelcatraz, those symptoms, and with them Builder's cause to worry, only get worse.

So it seems to me that at least one of these reasons, if not both, is responsible for the loss of the Builder's smile. It's also making me think about what's going to happen in Moonbrooke (I got that spoiled for me ages ago, DW, it's cool), and whether these are really the actions of a Builder who mindlessly, cheerfully does whatever they're told, or if they're the actions of a Builder who has started to doubt themselves. Maybe they've started reconsidering whether trusting others without reservation is really the right thing to do; they're almost certainly worried about Malroth's sudden comments suggesting that he may be at risk of doing something terrible in the near future.

Obviously that's just my interpretation of what I've seen so far, and goodness knows I am nothing if not dedicated to reading ridiculous amounts of depth into things that were never meant to support it. But it's interesting to me, so I thought I'd throw it out there. And of course, we'll see how this all plays out in Moonbrooke.

#dragon quest builders 2 #dqb2 #dqb2 builder #spoilers #dqb2 spoilers

[drwcn]

follow up to [post] exploring the crack au if lwj was a girl 

〒▽〒 ps im not trying to erase canon lwj representation, not at all, wangxian is mm in all my other fics, this is just stupid fun

in a ceteris paribus situation aka all other things staying equal: 

1) Lan Wangji 100% still has a resting bitch face, which probably would get her a couple of “Lan-er-guniang 美若天仙 (beautiful as an immortal/goddess) but would benefit from smiling more” comments but nobody is that desperate to die yet so, she’s spared. But damn... imagine the sheer number of thirsty boys who’d try to secure a marriage with LWJ. None of them is good enough for Wangji as far as Lan Xichen is concerned. Okay - maybe in Lan Xichen’s opinion, Nie Mingjue is good enough, but he couldn’t be less interested. I see her as I see Huaisang, Xichen please. 

2) Everything interaction between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian in Wei Wuxian’s first life is now 500% more scandalous. 

Exhibit A) Their first meeting at the gates; Jiang Cheng immediately felt his spidey senses tingling.  —“You’d sooner have immortals flying out of your ass than get with someone like her. The second jade of Gusu? The pearl in old man Lan’s eyes? C’mon.”  —“Shut up, A-Cheng.” —“Uh-huh.”  —“Also, she’s not that pretty. Her brother Zewu-jun is much better. There’s a reason he’s ranked first.” WWX is still a disaster bi.  — “LMAO, you? Zewu-jun? Please.” 

Exhibit B) Just because LWJ is a girl does not mean WWX grew more brain cells. 

WWX, straight up to Lan Qiren’s face, “Lan-meimei and I - we’re zhiji.” (he means it like we’re kindred spirits, peas of a pod, etc)  LWJ: *does not deny* Lan Xichen: ⚆_⚆ Lan Qiren: ಠ╭╮ಠ

Exhibit C) Lan Wangji getting drunk the first time. Wei Wuxian knew he crossed a line the minute he invited Lan-er-guniang for a drink. Really, WWX, even for you, this is inappropriate. When Lan Wangji fell face first onto the table, Wei Wuxian knew, he fucked up. “Hey....hey...Lan....Lan...-er-guniang,” He poked her. “Don’t...don’t sleep here! You can’t sleep here! If your Uncle finds out or if Jiang-shushu finds out...they’ll skin me alive and then...and then they’ll make me marry you! I don’t want to marry you; you don’t talk and I’m too young!” 

WWX, being a dipshit, “Hey Lan Zhan, call me Wei-gege.”  LWJ, drunk as fuck, “Wei..gege.”  WWX *((( heart )))* ??? 

Exhibit D) The Cold Pond. Okay, so I don’t think Zewu-jun would sabotage his sister’s virtue by sending a stupid teenage boy her way while she’s bathing, but doesn’t mean Su She is above all that. Wei “I didn’t see anything I swear!” Wuxian. Lan “I will gouge out your eyes.” Wangji. Somehow they still end up in the cave. Maybe WWX got in the water after LWJ got out and got sucked into the vortex and LWJ heard the commotion, turned around, saw WWX had disappeared. “Wei Ying?!” A panicked LWJ jumps back into the pond, “Stop fooling around, come out!” 

Jiang Cheng and Wen Qing 👀👀 when LWJ and WWX fall out of the cave together. Also the fact that Lan-er-guniang and Wei-gongzi went missing, together, for two days. Who knows what could’ve happened. I mean anything really. I mean... that’s gotta stir the pot a little were it not for the Yin Iron stealing everyone’s attention away from this bit of juicy scandal. 

Oh the whole story... so much to work with, so little time. 

3) Because Lan Wangji is a girl, now suddenly there’s a high ranking member of the Lan Clan who can host the girls at Cloud Recesses. I mean, Mianmian, Jiang Yanli, Wen Qing, Lan Wangji - SISTERLY FRIENDSHIP. Other than Mianmian, none of the girls are really talkers which suits Lan Wangji perfectly. Even Mianmian’s chatter is endearing.

4) Lan Wangji is absolutely still a powerhouse during the Sunshot Campaign. The inherent aesthetics of fem!lwj telling the Wen goons to “kneel” - no one will deprive me of this.  Also she will still cut off your arm if you cross her - Xue Yang and Jin Guangyao ya better watch out still. 

I am TORN between two options: Lan Wangji tol and kickass or Lan Wangji smol and kickass. On one hand, the aesthetics of willowy elf-like LWJ, on the other hand, 5′2′’ of whoop ass who can and will throw an unconscious wwx over her shoulder firewoman-style and toll him to safety.  

And amongst other things: 

A) Lan Wangji still becomes Chief Cultivator, because excuse me who else is left to clean up this mess? Jiang “Short-fuse” Wanyin? Nie “I won’t do what I’m not intended to do” Huaisang? Jin “13 year-old” Ling? Or Sect Leader Yao?  Technically, being a woman means that she was never Lan Xichen’s heir, but at the end of it, it’s not like Gusu Lan is left with a lot of choices.  Just the poetic justice of Gusu Lan pleading for Lan Wangji to come back when she fully intends to 隐居山野 (retreat into the mountains) with the resurrected WWX.

Lan Wangji being Chief Cultivator would echo Lan Yi’s tenure and rectify the fact that Gusu Lan’s only female head of family “failed”. Lan Yi had to face a mountain of prejudice because she was woman; someone has to say “up yours” to that. A woman as not only the sect master of Gusu Lan but the Chief Cultivator? Love that for Gusu Lans. (⌐■_■) ☞ ☞

B) Because of ~ sexism ~ I wonder if Lan Wangji would get titled “Hanguang” at all even after the Sunshot Campaign. Even Lan Yi, the SL Lan of her time didn’t have a title. Chances are LWJ won’t either. (Note: Violet Spider is not a title, it’s a moniker). So — say after the way Lan Wangji is still just “Lan-er-guniang”, and she does not obtain the title “Han Guang” until after she leaves Cloud Recesses and become rogue. (srsly how did they come up with these titles in canon, did gusu lan just look at 21 year old lwj and be like yah he’s lord light bearer *cue trevor noah stand up joke* why do you call yourself “great” britain? isn’t that a bit presumptuous? shouldn’t you go around doing good things and then let other people come to the conclusion: oh britain look how great you are? same logic with lwj.) 

Lan Wangji, a Jade of Gusu or a nameless rogue, still goes where trouble is, helping those who need it. After laying low for a year or two to heal, Lan Wangji began night hunting. Donned neck to ankle in white silk and tulle, and a weimao (wide brimmed veil hat) obscuring her face, she became known to the people as Hanguang Sanren, the lightbearing wanderer. Gusu’s highest power probably has some idea who she is - or at least they can guess - but the vast majority of people don’t. 

C) Lan Sizhui raised by rogue Lan Wangji as his mum would be different. Still cultured, respectful, but definitely with an air of keeping others at arm’s length. 

For instance, grown-up Sizhui running interference and saving a cohort of gentry disciples on joint hunts.

Jingyi: 这人谁呀？Who is this guy? Zizhen: 多谢兄台搭救之恩，小可看您眼生，敢问兄台尊姓大名，何门何派，改日当登门拜访. Many thanks for saving us. I don’t believe we’ve met, pray tell what is your name and sect, so we may visit at a later time to thank you for tonight. Sizhui: 在下无门无姓 ，单名思追 。举手之劳不足挂齿 ，怎敢劳烦各位名门子弟答谢。My name is Sizhui, belonging to no family and to no sect. As for tonight - I only did what anyone would; it bears no mentioning and requires no thanks. Jin Ling: 你这人，看你工力不凡，想和你交个朋友，可你怎么遮遮掩掩的。Hey you, we see you’re a talented cultivator and want to make your acquaintance. Why are you so dodge-y? Zizhen：金陵 — Jing Ling - Sizhui: 若是有缘，还会相见。告辞。If it’s fated, we will meet again. Farewell.  

Later:  Jingyi: 思。追。 思追谁？Si. Zhui. To recollect and long for whom?  Sizhui: 母亲的一位故人. Someone from Mother’s past.  Jingyi: 你父亲？...Your father?  Sizhui: 我不知。I don’t know. 

I thought about how cute it would be if sizhui and jin ling knew each other but guys...Jiang Cheng literally thinks he killed Sizhui’s biological father. Like he literally thinks he orphaned Sizhui before Sizhui is even born. And Lan Wangji would never accept anything from Jiang Wanyin, not that it would stop Jiang Wanyin from trying. 

A package of books here, a new robe for Sizhui there. Lan Wangji doesn’t know how Jiang Cheng keeps finding her. She and Sizhui are nomadic.  

D) The inevitable conversation after wwx is revived. 

You know what would be funnier than Jiang Cheng thinking Sizhui is a wangxian baby is if Lan Qiren thinks Sizhui is a wangxian baby. 

#cql #the untamed #wangxian #lan wangji #wei wuxian #lmao what is this #cql ficlet #corie fics #lwj fic #f!lwj

[venusiangguk]

may we see the fight tae oc scene pls pls please!!! u can delete later🤔🤔🤔🤔😳😳😳😳 i’m really curious. i mean ofc u don’t have to. still 😧🙃

idealizations concerning real life relations: deleted scene

>>pairing: jungkook x reader / icrlr!couple

>>genre: fwb, angst, rated PG

>>word count: 2.5k

>>warnings: alcohol, implied smut

>>notes: this is a deleted scene from icrlr, that i omitted simply because of the length of the final fic!! feel free to skip or ignore, it doesn't change anything, but since u guys are curious about it, i'll post it as a lil ty for helping me hit that milestone <3 it takes place after the tattoo party scene, and before the lecture scene.

this does NOT provide an alternative ending.

>>summary: taehyung tries to make you see things for what they really are, but it's hard to see through the rose colored glasses.

Winter break has been long awaited and it is finally, finally here. The snow has coated the ground thick, making the town look like a winter wonderland. The air is sharp and cold but not to a miserable extent. Just chilly enough to bundle up, to hold a hand a little tighter and soak up their warmth.

Your favorite season is fall, but the later months are a close second. You love seeing the way everyone’s faces get red when snow flurries come down to kiss their nose and cheeks. Love the way pom poms bounce atop little hats as children play and have snowball fights. Winter is surprisingly one of the warmest, sweetest times of the year. Like the hot coco Jeongguk has been swapping your regular macchiato with lately.

There’s a greatly anticipated party tonight- a mashup of Taehyung’s birthday and New Year’s Eve. Anticipated for the simple fact that said birthday boy has steadily been ignoring you for weeks, and tonight was a night where he couldn’t evade your attempts of reconciliation. He hasn’t returned a single call or even sent a text back. You can’t even be mad at him really, you know it’s justified. You know you fucked up. The coffee date you had with Yoongi last week let you know what you did.

Over an iced coffee, you learned that you had unintentionally skipped out on your best friend's Winter Showcase. The important one that he mentioned multiple times. The one you promised to attend no matter what.

It wasn’t on purpose; you wanted to go, to support him. But you just got caught up. In life, in school, in Jeongguk. It happens.

When Yoongi asked you why you had missed it, when he told you how hurt Taehyung was by your absence, your heart dropped, sank deep within your chest as your mouth fell open before closing, a small pursed frown on your lips. You didn’t have a good excuse. You went to get tattoos with Jeongguk and then to a party where you fucked him, and then home after that? You were too tired to make it? You just simply forgot? Those excuses weren’t good enough for you and you knew they wouldn’t be good enough for Taehyung.

Whereas Yoongi was okay with distance, long periods in between hanging out and talking, Taehyung wasn’t. He was the kind of friend that needed support, reassurance that you cared. He liked quality time and hangs outs that were planned ahead so he could look forward to them. He was looking forward to you being at his showcase.

The party is packed, even more so than usual. Students, drop-outs, alumni, and randoms alike, all congregate to bring in the new year, to celebrate the end of finals, and a certain art majors birthday. Bodies are on bodies, music is loud and deafening. Cups, bottles, and small baggies litter the floor and the smell of weed is nauseating.

Jeongguk’s hand in yours is sweet, though. Enough to ebb the distaste in your mouth as you watch the stereotypical disaster that is a college party.

“I’m going to go find the drinks, okay?” you lie, squeezing Jeongguk’s hand lightly.

He squeezes back, kisses the side of your head as he says, “Bring me one back too?”

You nod, and slip out of his view. Scanning the crowd until you see a familiar face.

Jimin is laughing, red cup in his hand, eyes curled and happy. He’s sitting on the arm of a couch, legs swinging as he laughs with a group of people. He takes a drink from his cup and let’s his eyes roam the room like he’s looking for someone.

The way his face changes when he sees you approaching is like a punch in the gut. It goes from happy, and carefree to stony- only a small, irritated, close-lipped smile on his face. Eyes harsh and cold, no longer holding the mirth they were just seconds ago. He says nothing when you step in front of him, he just looks you over like he’s bored and waiting for you to get on with it so he can be done with it.

You shift on your feet under his scrutiny. “Where’s Tae?” you ask.

Jimin narrows his eyes at you and tilts his head. “Now you want to know where he is? Haven’t been concerned with his whereabouts for months. Definitely weren’t worried about it last week.”

You wince but carry on swiftly. “Listen, I know I fucked up. I’m here to apologize.” You look at him expectantly, but he holds his ground. When he doesn’t falter, you resort to begging, “Please, Jimin. He’s my best friend… I miss him.”

You must look pitiful, because Jimin’s indifferent facade fades, and he clicks his tongue like he’s annoyed at himself for giving into you. “He’s getting us drinks in the kitchen.”

A smile takes over your face as you rush out a ‘thank you’, quickly turning on your heel to head in the opposite direction, before Jimin calls after you.

“Yeah?” you ask, looking over your shoulder at him.

“If he’s your best friend, maybe treat him like it, yeah?”

You continue to the kitchen without replying, and you can’t help the little simmer of annoyance that bubbles in your chest. Taehyung has been your best friend for years. And even though Jimin had a point, who was he to tell you anything about yours and Taehyung’s friendship?

Before the thought can fester, however, you see the boy you came looking for, two bottles of vodka in his hand like he’s trying to decide which to use. You see the little party hat atop his shaggy hair before anything else and your heart aches a little. You really did miss him. He lets out a small annoyed sound, and knowing him, he’s probably trying to figure out which has the highest alcohol percentage. You come up next to him, and say his name gently. He jumps, but when he realizes it’s you, the ghost of a smile curls on his lips like he’s happy to see you.

Until it’s replaced with resentment just as quickly. His sharp eyes squint at you before turning back to the bottles in his hands, scowl still in place.

“So you decided you could pencil me in between getting your heart toyed with and your back blown out?” He gives you a side glance and sees how your jaw drops in surprise. He carries on, unbothered. “Or did this just work out because it coincides with New Year’s and because he was invited? Only because he’s Jimin’s friend might I add.”

“Tae-” you try, doing your best to keep the hurt whine out of your tone.

“Save it, __. I don’t want to hear the excuses you have. Just-” he looks at you again, and you think that maybe he softens when he sees your crestfallen features. He sighs like he’s tired. “Just leave me alone. Just for a bit, okay? I’ll get over it eventually,” he finishes, finally deciding on the vodka he wants.

You know his request isn't unreasonable. But it’s already been so long that the distance in your friendship has been eating away at it, that you’re scared ‘eventually’ might take too long and by the time he comes around, there won’t be much of a friendship left. That the damage done, will be irreparable.

“Tae… It’s already been months, can’t we-”

Like night and day, the softness that you were able to pull out of him is immediately replaced with that resentment and anger you were met with when you first stepped into the kitchen.

“Yeah,” he seethes, strong brows furrowed. “And whose fault is that?”

His words are sharp and the sting from them makes you take a step back. That is, until you feel anger of your own creep up your throat like venom. “You’re one to talk, Taehyung. You could have reached out to me, too. You’re no better than me when you’re in a relationship.”

He groans, gives an exasperated laugh before shrugging. “You know what? Maybe I am just as bad as you, but at least I’m actually in a relationship,” he spits, “You’re just fucking someone that doesn’t give a fuck about you.”

You know he’s hurt because of the distance. That he doesn’t intend to be so mean. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less, and it doesn’t stop the angry tears from pooling in your eyes.

And although you’re angry, almost shaking with rage at the feeling of being cornered and blamed, your heart aches at hearing his words.

Jimin, who started seeing Taehyung after you started seeing Jeongguk, had already made your friend official. Had given him the title, the commitment, the relationship that you had been patiently and understandingly waiting for with Jeongguk. The bitterness that bleeds into your heart makes you feel gross and ugly.

You know what they say; that labels are superficial and don’t mean that much. But when you don’t have them? It makes you wonder. If a label really isn’t that important, like everyone says, why is Jeongguk so reluctant to give one to you?

“Jimin’s your boyfriend?” you whisper.

Taehyung gives you a short nod. “Month and half ago. You would’ve known if you got your head out of Jeongguk’s ass.”

Almost like he was summoned, the topic of debate waltz into the room, coming up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He nuzzles into your neck.

It’s instinctual now, the way your body responds to him. The way you melt into his chest like second-nature, how your hands settle over his like they are keeping them in place. How immediately in his presence you feel calmer; the panicky, hurt feeling you were experiencing moments ago vanishing as if it were just a fleeting thought and not something that’s always in the back of your head.

Not in a possessive, ‘I need him to be mine’ kind of way, though.

More like, ‘Why won’t he be mine?’

“Hi,” he murmurs into your neck.

“Hi, baby,” you respond softly, out of habit. The room shirks around you whenever he’s near. Makes you feel like you’re in your own bubble with him.

Jeongguk’s about to reply, ask where the drinks are, but then he hears an annoyed scoff sound in front of you both. Jeongguk bristles as he looks up and sees Taehyung taking a big swig from his cup.

“Uh- am I interrupting? Should I go?” he asks hesitantly, looking between you and your friend.

“No-” you say at the same time that Taehyung says, “Yes.”

You cringe, and turn in Jeongguk’s arms, hands resting on his chest. “Just give me a couple more minutes okay? I’ll bring the drinks.”

Jeongguk searches your eyes, before looking at Taehyung one last time before giving you a stern nod and a quick kiss.

You turn back to Taehyung, ready to apologize for Jeongguk’s interruption, when he talks over you.

“You’re pathetic,” he starts, and you roll your eyes with an irritated sigh before he continues, “but I know you love him. And that you can’t help it,” he shrugs. “But as your friend, I have to tell you that it’s not going to end well. You probably don’t even need me to tell you that. You probably already know and are choosing to ignore it for the sake of the delusions you’ve made up in your ‘pretty little head’.”

You pout at him quoting you, and your brows furrow. “He cares about me. And he’s Jimin’s best friend. He’s a good person, you don’t even know him,” you argue defensively. Though you know your arguments make little sense and are flimsy at best.

Taehyung frowns. Pauses like he’s thinking.

“I didn’t say he was a bad person, and maybe he does care about you in his own messed up way. But he doesn’t care about you in the way that you want him to.” His lips are still down turned when he speaks again.

“And the difference between him with you and him with Jimin is astronomical; it shouldn’t even be a comparison, but I will humor you,” he rubs a hand up and down his face like he’s tired. “The dynamic is completely different, for obvious reasons. For one, Jimin is a safe relationship. You are not. Jimin isn’t in love with him, Jimin isn’t sucking his dick, and Jimin doesn’t want things from Jeongguk that Jeongguk cannot give, or does not want to give,” he says with a raised brow as he takes a sip of his drink.

It seems that the anger has died down some between you both, a semi-civil conversation finally being had. You wrinkle your brows in confusion at him. “What are you talking about?”

He rolls his eyes. “Cmon __. Why do you think he hasn’t made you his girlfriend? Why do you think he literally has not been in a serious relationship since high school? Why do you think he never agrees to anything more than 2 months out?” He waits for you to answer but you just purse your lips stubbornly. “He’s scared. Dare I say terrified of commitment, and that’s exactly what you want from him right?”

You stay headstrong and quiet for a moment longer, ignoring his question in favor of asking one of your own when you finally do speak up. “If I’m so scary, why hasn’t he left?”

Taehyung shrugs. “Fuck if I know? Maybe he does care about you like you say he does. I don’t think so, but hey,” He raises his hands in mock surrender, like he is throwing in the figurative towel. “Maybe you’re right and maybe I‘m wrong. Or maybe there’s some fucked up codependency fermenting between you both when you copulate. I genuinely have no clue, and frankly, I don’t care to find out. Don’t text me until you come to your senses. And don’t get mad when I tell you ‘I told you so’.”

And with that, he turns and leaves you to make your own drinks. You hope the smile you give Jeongguk when you find him is believable.

That night when you go back to his place, you voice your concerns to him in between sweet, heated kisses that taste like hot cider. You tell him hesitantly how Taehyung voiced his concerns about Jeongguk not caring about you and Jeongguk got a little irritated, a little miffed as he unlatched his lips from your neck. He asked what Taehyung knew, how he even came to that conclusion when he’s not around you both.

He assured you with gentle touches and tender words that of course he cares about you. He reminded you that he always makes time for you, he always answers your calls and your texts, he takes you out every now and then, too. He asks you what you think and when you contemplate your answer, going over what he said, you can’t really argue with him. Even if an uneasy, dismal feeling settles in the pit of your tummy.

~~~

hellooo!! again, this is just a scene and part of the plot that i chose not to use because i felt like the fic was already so long. i wish that i had ended up including it tho, so i hope you enjoyed even though its nothing special <3 feel free to do the things if you liked it: like, comment, reblog, send an ask~~ love u, ty again for helping me reach that milestone <3

#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook #jungkook fic #bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook x oc #jungkook x you #jungkook fic recs #btswritingcafe #thebtswritersclub #networkbangtan #bangtansorciere #btsgoldnet #heartsforbts #btscreatorscorner #kwritersworldnet #bangtanarmynet #jungkook oneshot #bts jungkook #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook smut #jeongguk x reader

[honestlyfrance]

SAMBUCKY BOOKMARKS

it’s fic yeah friday over at @fuckyeahsambucky​​​ so i wanna do a lil something something for the fandom :) check out my #fic rec tag for more! 

enjoy the more than 50 fics listed here :) be careful of the tags!

I Am Trying to Break Your Heart by Lunar_Pull

Today is the day that Steve received an invitation to the love of his life’s wedding.

Philopatry by Areiton

"I want to be safe," he says. "But I'm not." "Then why come here? Why put me at risk?" Something flickers in his eyes, little boy lost and utterly cold, and it makes Sam want to give the dude a hug and also pull his sidearm. "I have no reason to hurt you," Winter says. "I don't want to hurt you," Bucky adds, earnestly.

farmhouse by Tazmaster

"You know, I think I'd want a farmhouse."

"A what?" Sam turns to look at him, slightly annoyed. This was the first thing Bucky has said in the past hour and a half they've been cramped in this god forsaken car. He had a knack for impulsively voicing his dumb thoughts at the worst times, but whenever you wanted to know what was actually going on in that head of his, he'd never say.

They were staking out the front gate of a large mansion, very much not a farmhouse. It was mind numbingly boring, being stuck in a beetle with absolutely nothing else to do than stare at the gaudy gates of some rich asshole.

"A farmhouse," Bucky repeats nonchalantly, "If we ever get out of this business, or you know, live long enough to retire maybe--- I want a farmhouse. With a lot of animals."

---

Bucky keeps talking about a farmhouse and it drives Sam crazy, that is until he finally asks why.

Employee Discount by bopeep for queenmab_scherzo

Sam Wilson doesn't love working in a store that makes him wear vanity-sized polos and breathe in clouds of men's cologne like the worst kind of GQ aromatherapy, but the view from his cash register across the mall to the Hot Topic and the sullen Dark Prince of Wallet Chains he loves to hate may just beat the minimum wage blues.

In warm water, swimming down by targaryen_melodrama

“Why are you hiding?””Tired.”Bucky raises an eyebrow. “So you decided to swim.”“So I decided to be alone.”Bucky’s quiet for a moment. “I can go, if you want.”It’s the last thing Sam wants.

I figured out what the slashes mean by Teaismycoffee

Sam, Steve and Bucky are all living together in a safe house. Bucky and Sam discover fan fiction written about them. Steve doesn't approve. Sam and Bucky are really into secretly reading fan fiction together, or maybe it isn't the fan fiction part they are really into.

Chicken Soup for the Soul by bioloyg

“S’not my bed time,” Sam says as he buries his face in Bucky’s upper arm. Bucky laughs. “Tough. You’re sick.” Sam lets out a loan groan and says, “But my bed is cold. I was so warm, why’d you move me?” “Because your neck would’ve hated you if I didn’t.” He tries not to be so amused by how fussy Sam is when he’s both sick and half-asleep. It’s cute. ~ A fic wherein Bucky takes care of a sick Sam.

two nights in L.A. by CapnWinghead

Bucky kindly volunteered Sam to be a groomsman for Scott’s upcoming wedding. Of course, that meant Sam and Bucky had to go to the bachelor party.

at the end of the war (what's mine is yours) by notcaycepollard

They don't talk about it: that's how it works.

I'd Like That by honestlydarkprincess

Sam has been up for over 24 hours and has been dreaming about his Coffee Caramel Fudge non-dairy ice cream since about the 18-hour mark. When he gets to the store, there's only one carton of it left and, unfortunately for the guy innocently holding said carton, Sam's not leaving without it.

Or, the one where Sam is sleep deprived, yells at a cute guy, and gets both ice cream and a phone number out of it.

Ready, Set, Date! by bioloyg

Bucky wants to sleep, Natasha wants to find him a date for Steve's wedding (so he'll leave her alone), and Sam is the best thing about this whole speed dating disaster. But, Sam's not in the speed date rotations - he's at a different table weathering through dates just like Bucky is. ~ "Three dates in, Bucky decides he has made one of the worst decisions in all of his life by coming here. His first date had been an attractive enough man by the name of Greg. He introduces himself as “The Big G,” to which Sam laughs at in the middle of introducing himself to his own date. Greg likes to talk about cars a lot, which is fine. Bucky also likes cars. The only problem is that Greg’s love for cars borders on… erotic."

We'll rise up free and easy by Sarsaparilla, woofgender

Steve and Natasha are away on a mission when Sam receives intel about the Winter Soldier’s location. When he follows the lead, Sam finds something unexpected—but despite his initial impression, it’s certainly not all bad. (Post-CATWS, not AOU- or CACW-compliant.)

__________ "'Jesus Christ,' Sam said, 'Are you planning on fighting an entire army?'

Barnes looked up from examining the sights of a sniper rifle. '...no,' he said, a little guiltily, and adjusted one of the--five? Six? guns he’d already strapped to himself."

love is in the air (i smell coffee) by Flora_K, hermionesmydawg

Sam Wilson - graduate student, part-time barista, part-time salesman, and full-time father - doesn't have time to sleep, much less date. At least, that's what he tells himself.

Up at Night by bioloyg for lunaaltare

With Halloween nearing, Sam is feeling more in the mood for a scary movie than usual. He'd never watch one on his own though, so he invites his roommate to pick one out and join in on movie night. or Prompt fill for Samtember ~ "It’s quiet for a while after that. Like always, the two of them start on opposite sides of the queen sized bed with at least a foot of space between them. And, like always, they drift closer to one another as time passes, though whether it’s habitual or instinctual Sam would never dare delve into."

flowers in darkness, the moon above the sea by 27dis

Sam enjoyed his job, really.

But, not when a certain person came in.

A quick detour and a sudden arrival by iwillnotbecaged for heuradys

He found Wilson shivering in the snow, left for dead. Sloppy.

You couldn’t trust the elements to do your job for you. They were rarely so obliging.

A mission gone awry, unexpected help, and close quarters makes for an interesting couple of days.

Don't lock the door on me by TuskFM

Sam’s desperately trying to sleep when he gets a visit from the Winter Soldier at three a.m., bleeding and asking for help. Sam’s not the kind of guy who let someone bleed out on his front door, even if the said someone threw him off an helicarrier and stole his wheel.

and i run, further than before by hermionesmydawg

"What do they call you?" Bucky carefully pulls out an equal amount of caramel and cheese kernels of popcorn and pops them into his mouth. "Birdman?"

"No."

"Captain Canary?"

"Hell no."

"The Winged Avenger?"

"Falcon, dammit, and I am not an Avenger," Sam snaps, and now he's kinda pissed because yes, it's a bird name. He didn't sign up for this kind of ridicule from an amnesiac assassin.

***

Basically, the 5 times Sam actually found Bucky and the 1 time he tried to hide from him. Don't tell Steve.

Exquisite Flavor by enchantedlightningwrites for honestlyfrance

W&M's Grand Corner's growing to be one of the popular restaurants in New York, where Sam Wilson works as a chef for his sister. A wedding's in a few weeks and he has no idea on what to do about it. Notorious for his picky taste and blunt reviews, Bucky 'Winter Wolf' Barnes pays a visit. Little did he know, food could really win one's heart and lands on his stomach.

He's a Beta, You Hear That? by 27dis

Reasons why Sam didn’t realize Bucky was courting him this entire time: 1. He is a beta 2. He is oblivious 3. He thought Bucky is way out of his league 4. He is a beta for fuck’s sake

See? It’s hardly his fault for not noticing it. Why was Bucky flirting with him anyw—

Oh. Oh.

Or; Bucky swore flirting with someone was never this hard before.

stay where we belong by glittercake

He doesn't know what the hell he's doing when he turns around and shouts, "Yo! You know what—" and Barnes turns on his heel in a flash, "It's getting late, man. Looks like rain."

Sam motions to the grey sky above, and Barnes follows his eyes beyond the hanging Willow branches. "Yeah? What are you saying?"

He's got that terribly smug look on his face, the one Sam can't stand but kind of misses when it's not irritating him. But mostly, he can't stand it, "Nothing! Forget about it!"

Arms Spread Out Wide, Turn Falling Into Flight by irisesandlilies

It was easy, nothing has ever been easy for Bucky. Except this, and that terrifies him.

Years in the making by glittercake

Bucky and Sam meet as two young soldiers, but the time is never quite right to make it anything more. Until it eventually is.

or

Sam refuses to let himself fall in love while he's deployed. Bucky pines endlessly for years about the prettiest bird he’s ever seen. Sam’s no better.

If At First You Don't Succeed by SonnyD

Bucky finally gains the courage to tell Sam about his feelings. He comes up with a list of methods to woo him that were bound to succeed. He didn't account for each and every one of them failing in unexpected ways. The five times that Bucky attempts to woo Sam and the one time that Sam returns the favour.

if i could take us back, if i could just do that... by safelikespringtime

Bucky laughed, cheeks flushing red, “I’m glad you didn't. Don't know what I’d do without my wingman.” Sam groaned, poking Bucky’s side, “That was awful.” Bucky laughed. “You couldn’t survive without me. We both know it.”

How right he was.

***

Sam dies. Bucky mourns.

Strawberries and Cigarettes always taste like you by winterscaptsam

There’s a sweet agonizing simplicity in leaving behind your safe haven, like the thrill of adrenaline, reaching the top of Everest, allowed to admire its beautiful icy view but with the everlasting fear of not making it back down. Maybe that's why it was a natural instinct for Bucky to reach out for the closest thing that felt like home, slowly then all at once falling for the sweet warmth of mahogany eyes, what soon became his safe haven.

Baked With Love by Siancore

Bucky Barnes’ family owns a bakery in a small town. High school has long been over, and Bucky is dying to move to the city to pursue a musical career with his band. And his future looks promising, if he can just persuade his father to let him leave his job behind at their struggling family bakery.

It is no secret that Bucky used to love baking with his father, but things change. He just can’t fathom wasting his life away watching rising dough and hot ovens. With his mind made up to leave, Bucky convinces his father to advertise for a replacement. While interviewing candidates to fill the position he has vacated, Bucky meets Sam Wilson: An easy-going guy who is as eager about baking as Bucky is about leaving. They bond over baking and become close. Love looks like it is ready to bloom between them if Bucky, in his haste to escape, does not ruin it.

Beneath this Crown by winterscaptsam

Sam traces his fingers from James’ hairline, down to his jaw, resting the pad of his thumb on James lips. He will let himself relish in this feeling. Not even the sculptors, painters or poets could carve their words and materials to accurately describe this.

“Do you think the history books will remember us?” Sam had once asked. And James’ words were made of the purest of golds, “my love, we will be legends for the children yet to come.”

Or

Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes' love story, one a prince and the other a knight.

make my body come alive (i've got a right to hurt inside) by notcaycepollard

The body is weak. The body is hungry and soft and human. He looks at himself in the mirror, the bones of his shoulders, his cheeks hollowed out from hunger, and he thinks, gentle, you didn’t deserve this.

safe like spring time by quidhitch

“I already told you it looks good. What more is there?”

“I don’t know, man, you’re gonna live here. I just wish I knew a little bit more about how that’s sitting with you.”

Sam knows Bucky feels fine. What Sam’s probably actually after is how he feels about the fact neither of them have anywhere else to go, not with Natasha dead and Steve wrinkly. Therapists. Even the good ones, always so circular.

“I like the terrace,” Bucky offers, mostly to appease him.

Airy Laundry by AmarieMelody

Sam watches what happens when Bucky buys a clothesline.

lucky by CapnWinghead

In retrospect, it took Bucky an embarrassingly long time to realize that everyone and Scott's mom thought he and Sam were dating.

not an end, but (the start of all things) by notcaycepollard

They keep driving, for lack of anything better to do. A mission, Sam had said, and maybe that's true; maybe wherever they're headed is the way out, the way up.

So You Run On Gasoline by 343EnderSpark, ABitNotGoodieBag, OriginalCeenote

Bucky may have bitten off more than he could chew with this job, he thinks, as he ambles along the sidewalk to the cafe after leaving campus. He is running off the fumes of exhaustion and hasn’t had more than 3 hours of uninterrupted sleep in the past week. Between his students and his thesis, he knows that it’s foolish to try so hard to hang on to his barista gig, but DC isn’t a cheap place to live and Bucky can’t live with other people.

Bucky is just trying his best, despite being a human disaster.

we could jump the state lines (we only get the one life) by notcaycepollard

It starts in Paris.

“You can’t steal things just because you like them,” Sam tells Bucky, feeling innately that this is a losing battle, and Bucky cocks his head to the side, considers Sam very thoughtfully.

“Really,” he says. “I’m stealing you, aren’t I?”

we were a fire with no smoke by notcaycepollard

Sam can’t help but roll his eyes. Take the boys out of New York but they’re still Brooklyn Catholics, that’s clear enough. Bucky catches the gesture, smirks hard enough Sam can see his eye teeth. It should be dangerous but he’s beautiful, pale and charming and recklessly easy.

“You wanna come in?” Sam asks, ignoring the noise Steve makes, and Bucky’s smile gets wider.

“Yeah,” he says. Steps up close to Sam. “I do.”

Peace Begins with a Smile by Siancore

Bucky just likes the way Sam smiles.

They're Good Drones, Brent by chase_acow

When Redwing becomes infected with an alien A.I., Sam has to balance the needs of the team with his own curiosity about his new partner. Redwing isn’t the only one acting strange, he also needs to get to the bottom of Bucky’s weirdness. It takes a training exercise gone wrong that Redwing and Sam might not survive for their secrets to be exposed.

Wet Asphalt (This Is What Love Is) by ObviouslyOtter

Soft words in the dark tell us all we need to know about love. Better when they come from the person you need to hear it from most. It's crueler when you don't realize it till afterward.

Or

Sam and Bucky go out shopping for candles.

i'm gone by bi_marvel

After infiltrating a Hydra base, Sam and Bucky are sent to a safe house, and there's only one bed. Oh, golly, I wonder what will happen!

Covert Coffee & Flirtation Special by glittercake

The reporter says "—for Captain America to—"

And Bucky rolls his eyes. "Oh, here we go."

Sam looks at him then tips his head sideways, got a weird grin on his face. "Not a fan?"

"Not that. Just… the guy seems too good to be true, right? Wings and a shield? Come on."

"Uh, is that why your eyes are like glued to the screen whenever he's on?" Kate says. "Is that why you call him Captain Tight Ass?"

"He's a goddamn show-off, and you know it. Tight ass or not."

Just then Sam snorts, real loud, grabs his coffee and suffers a horribly controlled laugh on his way out the door.

The Starting Line by birdlight

A Series

Lone and Level Sands by quantum_consciousness

The almost-smile disappears off Sam’s face and he takes a step deeper into the water, and he starts unbuttoning his shirt as he wades further. One look over his shoulder and he chucks the shirt to shore, and Sam dives into the water. The ache in Bucky’s chest deepens as Sam swims. He supposes, Sam has lost a lot more, he supposes, sometimes Sam feels as lonely as he used to.

in which love doesn’t ruin us by joesnick

“Idiot,” Bucky said, so natural and deliberate that she couldn’t hear well but it was there. Relief and happiness under a small light. “Don’t do that to me again.”

“Hey, I’m here,” Sam said, before getting closer and pressing his forehead against Bucky’s. “I’m here.” They ran out of words. They didn’t need them, not at that moment. Their steadying breaths and their tenderness, saved only for each other and fed by each other, was all they needed.

Ride of Shared Melodies by enchantedlightningwrites for honestlyfrance

Two strangers, Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson meet in an unexpected encounter in the airplane. Over the course of the ride, they discover their mutual love for music and connect.

Let's Fly Away by Unclesteeb

"If I could fly, I could go anywhere. I could do anything.”

Sam’s mom gives his shoulder a gentle pat. “You can in your own way.”

“How?”

“Sammy, all you have to do to be as free as a bird is to just do the right thing.”

Sam furrows his brow. “What does that mean?”

“Well,” Sam's mom starts. “The right thing is doing nice things for people. It's treating everyone how you would want to be treated. It's going out of your way to help people and love them, even if they're not nice to you at first or at all. People deserve love, and I know you have plenty to give.” She leans down to give his cheek a kiss. “All you have to do to find your wings and fly free is to just do what you feel is right. You have a beautiful heart, Sam. I know you'll use it the right way. Then you'll fly.”

Been one of those days (can I lean on you?) by hazel_eyed_bi

Sam and Bucky wrap up an exhausting, weeks-long mission, only to go back to their mutual pining while forced to share a bed at a crappy motel. Also, Nat knows what's up.

Find your love and fight for it by winterscaptsam

Sam learns to love again, quiet and composed. Love letters stay in between walls and stolen kisses don’t leave his apartment. It's not that it's a secret, loving Bucky the way he does, lord knows he’d scream it from the rooftops, travel all the way to space to let any living life form know it as well. But that’s the problem, he just doesn’t know how and it aches him to his core to keep Bucky like a secret, like this love is something to be ashamed of.

Or

Sam decides it's about time to come out.

Kings of Everything by glittercake

Twenty-five years after the events at a popular New York Bistro, Timothy DumDum Dugan tells the true story of infamous mobster Jimmy Buchanan and the man he gave it all up for.

arson we commit by winterscaptsam

Bucky seeks adventure, reaches out for an adrenaline rush whenever he can get it and he reckons this fellow will be the one to give it to him. All sweet smiled and dolled up figure showing off his attributes. Like he’s daring anyone to take the rush.

So, Bucky goes and gets what he wants.

“What’s your damage, doll?”

Or

Bucky is the hitman and Sam is the target.

The Boys of Summer by Siancore for avintagekiss24

Sam Wilson returns home to the small town he grew up in to complete his med school residency. He hasn’t been back for an extended amount of time since he left for college. While he only consistently kept in touch with childhood friend, Steve Rogers, he was keen to see the people he had grown up with. With the exception of Bucky Barnes. They had a falling out the summer before Sam left for college. What happened between them? Can they move past it now that they’re adults?

Sam's Plan by OhHelloFandoms123

“I have a plan,” Sam said smugly, hands on his hips. “I have a three-step plan for you to marry me.” At first, he thought he was joking. Then, he saw Sam’s genuine smile.

Bucky groaned, “there is no way in HELL that I’m marrying YOU, Wilson.”

Wreck In the West by OhHelloFandoms123 for honestlyfrance

There’s just something about leaning on his chest as the sun goes down and the smell of tea whilst into the air feels so amazing. And he was a wreck because of it, it tore him apart and put himself back together because it was so blissful, he almost couldn’t breathe at first.

OR

Gay cowboy proposal.

Belonging Season by OhHelloFandoms123

Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes have lived their most happy, married life for 70 years. Death won’t stop them today for living an eternity.

neverending; by glittercake

Sam passes away after a long and happy life with Bucky, but Bucky never ages and life keeps introducing him to Sam's reincarnates for the next 156 years.

Lighthouse by glittercake

This guy’s trouble. Bucky knows that in his bones. It’s not bad trouble, is the problem, it’s good. Sam is so goddamn inherently good and if Bucky even touches that with a ten foot pole—fuck if he even looks at it—it’ll turn to shit.

He can’t afford another move to yet another city because his colleagues started recognizing Brock’s fist prints on his face.

But Sam is a ridiculously bright glowing light, a beacon, and Bucky goes toward it like that idiotic moth to the flame.

masterlist | ko-fi | patreon

#onlysambucky #sambucky #fysbfriday #fysambuckyweek #winterfalcon #sam wilson #bucky barnes #france: fic rec #fic rec #sam x bucky #sam wilson x bucky barnes

[thestarsanctuary]

BNHA CHARACTERS SEEING YOU DRESSED UP FOR THE FIRST TIME

definitly a random post but whatever.

Gender Neutral reader. Let me know if there are any pronouns or indicators that aren’t that!

BAKUGOU -

Bakugo was waiting for you at the formal party that UA waa having for the end of the year and in all honesty, he wanted to leave. Bad.

It wasn’t you, it could never be you, but it was all these people, and the awful music and dancing, it was too much for him without you there, and he looked like an idiot because he was just standing there making him want to leave even more. But then you came.

And wow did everything that he hated on before become so irrelevant so fast. Record time honestly, but he couldn’t help it. Here you are in this gorgeous dress, and wait...makeup? Seriously? Score, Bakugou thought of this as an absolute score. He couldn’t even respond properly when you said hi but quickly covered it with annoyance.

“I’ve been waiting for 15 minutes why’d it take you so long? And why couldn’t I come get you so I wouldn’t have to wait in this disaster.” He spat, avoiding your eyes just slightly.

“Ah, sorry Katsuki! My hair wasn’t really cooperating so it took longer than I expected...but I’m here now!” You grinned, and he couldn’t even find it in him to argue more.

You just looked so good.

“Yeah yeah alright, lets go extra the others are waiting over there.”

“Why didn’t you go over there before I came then?”

“I didn’t want to go without you.” He didn’t want to go at all at this point, he just wanted to be with you and you only.

As you two reached most of class 1-A you could see everybody so dressed up, it was a bit of a spectrum honestly, all the girls were talking amongst each other but quickly stopped when they saw that you had come and you were bombarded with compliments.

“Ahh you look so good!”

“Where did you get that dress from?! God?!”

“Literally how do you look like this and you get with Bakugou?”

“HEY EXTRA SHUT YOUR TRAP.”

“truth is truth.”

Conviniently enough one song that you absolutely adored came on and interrupted the entertaining banter going on as you dragged Katsuki onto the dance floor. Although he didn’t really move at first he slowly began to try his best and attempt to dance. Only for you would he do something so ridiculous.

You two had been dancing for who knows how long, maybe 10-20 minutes but it felt like two the way you had been smiling so wide, and been so happy to be there. It made Katsuki feel so lucky to have somebody who enjoys him as much as he does them.

After Katsuki had said he got tired and left, he saw you had went to dance with the girls and you looked so confident and happy, it made him feel so infatuated with you. If anything. Obviously he liked you, he wouldn’t date you if he didn’t, but he had never seen you look this good and act like this, it was almost tol good to be true. But it quickly ended because he was getting a bit jealous of how close the others were.

“Hey extra, let’s go sit down before you whine and complain because your feet hurt.”

“How did you even know-

“Shut up and just come with me, they have drinks.” Quickly, off you two went.

The rest of the night was plenty calm, with the exception of Denki or Mineta being their usual selves and getting caught by Aizawa numerous times.

“Katuski~” you whispered, as he looked to you with a side glare.

“What do you want.”

“Nothin’ but just wanted to say thank you for coming tonight, I loved being with you.” You had NEVER seen him this red before. People actually could’ve thought he was dying by the aggressive tone of red.

“I- thank you. I love you.” He whispered back, a bit embarrassed to say it in his usual tone, he was okay saying these things to you because he knew you felt the same. And that’s all it is.

“I love you.” You smiled and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek as he held you hand, rubbing the back of your palm.

“....can we go to your house and watch movies or somethin’ this is incredibly annoying now. All these lights and this trashy music, your house is at least a little less trashier than this.” He said louder this time, and once you had stood up he immediately led you outside only to kiss you softly.

“I love you a lot. Don’t forget it.”

TODOROKI -

You and Todoroki had agreed to meet up at the zoo for your first date, as you adored animals and Todoroki...tolerated them.

Shoto arrived first, mostly because he was a good 5 minutes early. He liked to be on time, everytime. It showed that he cared, and it also gave him time to think about how he wanted to talk and approach you, because honestly, he had no clue what he was supposed to do. He quickly texted Midoriya (like he should have done before) to help him calm himself down but right after he sent the text he looked up and saw you walking towards him and.....you looked stunning.

“Hi! How long were you waiting for me?” You asked with a hint of playfulness.

“Um, not long, maybe 5 minutes, really nothing long.” He stumbled a bit with his words, and his cheeks were kind of red, but he still managed to make you feel shy. “I like your outfit, the skirt is really nice” he said, and you laughed and did a tiny spin.

“You think? I don’t wear skirts that often to be honest with you. I only really wear the one at school.” You said and he didn’t react but simply nodded.

“You should more often. I think you look pretty in them.” Yup, there it was, and now the roles have reversed.

“Okay okay, enough of that, let’s go!” You grabbed his hand and inside you went.

Todoroki had been walking around basically just listening to you talk the whole time, and when you didn’t speak it was a comfortable silence. You hadn’t released his hand either. Not that he minded, if anything he held it a bit tighter.

However, there was one thing Todoroki was constantly doing. Looking at you. There wasn’t even a hint of embarrassment. When you two left the zoo to go get lunch whenever you looked up he was looking at you. He seemed a bit more well....affectionate? Not that he was all over you with hugs and kisses, but he insisted on holding your hand, and when driving you back home he kept complimenting you. The whole time.

“I like your hair today, it looks really good.”

“I like your shoes, where did you get them from?”

“Those socks are cool, why are they so long?” At this point you weren’t sure if he was trying to create conversation or he was generally interested but either way it was so cute to you. He even asked to take photos with you, and offered to send them to you. As if he was just going to keep them for himself.

Once you had finally reached your house he thought you were going to simply leave but you invited him inside, and obviously he wasn’t going to decline, so he went inside.

You had made him and yourself some drinks and carried them back to the living room.

“So...is there a reason you’ve been all lovey-dovey on this date? Not that I mind, I’m just curious, is this your hidden persona?” You question, giving him an adorable grin.

“Ah...no- I, I thought you looked really pretty. And you still do, you always do, but I wanted to reassure you so I thought being more affectionate would help you know that I liked you.” He stated and he looked so serious but his cheeks were so red, it was probably the cutest thing you had seen and heard from Shoto yet. So you did what any sane person would do with Shoto Todoroki in front of them. You kissed him.

It was quick, nothing extensive and definitely nothing heated, but it was effective. Because now you had Todoroki wrapped around your finger. He just looked at you, mouth agape with shock, but he wouldn’t look away. Was he even blinking?

“Sho, would you like to stay over tonight? We can watch movies and y’know, just get to know each other more.”

“Yes. Yeah I- I would like that.” Whatever you had said Shoto would probably say yes to anyways. He swore it was you and the skirt.

It was simply just you.

MIDORIYA -

Midoriya is a simple guy. Whoever he likes is going to know. So when he found out you were going to ask him out to go to the formal on Friday from Mina, he was basically panicking. What is he supposed to do? Should he wait for you or keep on with his day? When are you confessing? Should he do it first? There were too many questions in his mind. He didn’t know what to do or how to respond when you actually asked him out either.

“So, did you want to go out with me?” You had asked after school, which definitely caught Midoriya off guard because you were not off school grounds and you were definitely not in private. You were literally still in the classroom for God’s sake he could see Uraraka shaking Iida from here.

“I- um, I’m not exactly sure why you’re going with me but yeah! That would be awesome!” He said, trying to play it cool. If he thought of you like a friend he could talk to you better but he couldn’t deny his obvious feelings for you.

“I think you’re cute, and I like you anyways so I’d rather go with you. How about you pick me up at 6 on Friday yeah?” Midoriya has officially died. Inside of his head but that’s basically the same thing as the literal meaning.

“Oh yeah! I can do that! I’ll uh, see you there!” You smiled at his immediate response and kissed his cheek before giving him a quick ‘great’ and walking off with your group of squealing girls and whining boys. (Denki really tried to make a bet that you would wuss out.)

Midoriya was definitely in over his head for this.

He was basically panicking because he wasn’t sure if you even liked him the way you said you did or if you were just pranking him. It was common for that to be a thing in UA, with so many people and their superior-complexes they were bound to use it to entertain themselves. But he pushed those thoughts away because he never wanted to think of you like that again. You were too cool and too nice to be that way. At least, that’s what he hoped.

As he arrived at your house he quickly sent you a text but you opened the door a few seconds after he had sent it. And oh...OH. You looked...amazing. Midoriya is definitely blushing by now, and this is exactly what he was hoping. He finally got you, the most attractive person he’d ever seen to look his way, and thank god he had because the way you were looking had him hoping nobody could outdo him.

You were wearing a suit. But it wasn’t like Midoriya’s suit, not a simple tuxedo, but it was with this sort of, silk top and the pants were long and fit. But instead of a blazer or something you had on this long sort of coat but you looked straight out of a magazine. Especially with the heels.

There was something electric happening in this car. Whether it was Midoriya and how much he was looking at you every two seconds, or the way everytime he did you were already looking at him. You made him feel a bit incompetent with the way confidence was radiating off you.

“You look good Izu. I like the tuxedo. Sorry if what I’m wearing wasn’t what you we’re hoping for.” You had said this calmly but you weren’t looking at him, as if you were scared of his response.

“Oh!! Thank you, I actually enjoy your outfit a lot more, you look really good! So good I don’t even know why you look so good jeez...sorry!! Rambling” he said before he got to into it. He had finally pulled up to the school.

“It’s fine. Your rambling is very cute~” you said, giving him a grin. He blushed a tiny bit and took the initiative of grabbing your hand and you had strolled inside.

As you had walked up to your friend group you were surrounded by your fellow friends as they complimented you almost excessively.

“Okay okay thank you guys. Please let me get back to my date huh?” You said smoothly and the cheering began all over again, so you quickly grabbed Midoriya and left to the drink bar.

“You do look really good today though, the compliments were, very well deserved.” Izuku said as he got you both punch.

“Well I could say the same about you. Along with a bit more.” You teased as he laughed.

The night was ecstatic. You and Midoriya had danced the whole time, and there was almost no time when the two of you weren’t together, and that was only because you had promised Mina a dance as a joke and she took it very seriously. The only other time was you yelling at Bakugou for saying Izuku’s suit was ugly. You didn’t even say anything bad you just said,

“IF HIS IS UGLY THEN YOURS IS ACTUALLY HIDEOUS, SO WHAT NOW.” And apparently yelling isnt exactly accepted so you and Bakugou both had to get a tiny scolding from Aizawa but he was so bored of how stupid the conversation was and let you both go with a warning instead. So you two stayed away from each other but glares were definitely shared.

As quickly as the night began it was over. And you were back in Midoriya’s car. Except this time you were kissing. A lot.

“You looked so good today~ it was hard to not kiss you on the spot.” You mumbled on his lips.

“Same here, everybody was looking at you and I felt...kind of jealous actually.” He whispered blushing.

“Well if it’s any comfort I could only look at you. You do know that I like you right?”

“Yeah yeah I know!” Why did he sound so excited?!

“So do you like me then? I never exactly got an answer.” You said leaning back into your seat. He however, basically jumped in the car and hit his head.

“Ow! Yes yes I really do like you, I thought you could tell and that’s why you asked me?” He said and you giggled.

“Well I mean I could tell but I asked you because I liked you first. That should’ve been more obvious.” You had said with another laugh as he also laughed.

“Yeah yeah that makes a lot more since huh? Well then...are we dating then? Or do there need to be y’know dates because I understand that we should probably get to know each other more but- another kiss planted right on his lips.

“I’d like that a lot Midoriya. You really don’t have to question yourself this much, I do genuinely like you.”

“I-I know! I genuinely like you too, a lot.”

“Well then stop worrying and just kiss me again.”

Who would’ve known this is how his night would go? Well...he was not complaining. Now he had to all to himself. What a win!

El FIN

to be honest i have no clue what this is pls, but where it says heels in Midoriya’s section that can be any shoe i just find heels powerful beings.

Alright hope y’all enjoy this mess lol

-SS

#bakugo x black reader #bakugo katuski x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #izuku midoriya imagine #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #midoriya x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x poc!reader #bnha imagines #bnha #mha x poc!reader #mha x reader

[milkbaer]

love to hate you | Part 1

“The prince of Prussia asks the princess of Bavaria for a dance; both absolutely hate it.”

💐 | masterlist | next

• Pairing: Prince Friedrich x Reader (Princess of Bavaria) • Word count: 2.8k • Warnings: none, except for spelling and grammar mistakes, and historical inaccuracy ✨ we alter history to make it fit the narrative ✨ • A/N: @netflixton on made me write it! Well, somehow. But I really have to thank both her and @onlymexsarah because they did not only bring me much joy with their stories but also lots of inspiration. Thank you so much! Really 🥺💖 I hope reading it brings you as much joy as I had writing it. Oh, and I had planned to post another Friedrich story first, but this one was faster. Ah and btw, I’m not Bavarian, sorry my dear Bavarian friends if I fuck up :’) • Small dictionary: Griaß di – informal, like Hello! or Greetings! Pfiad de – informal, goodbye Eure Hoheit – Your Highness Kruzifix – usually a plastic of Jesus hanging at the cross, but it’s also used as a way of cursing. Here it’s a curse.

Berlin, Prussia, 1812

To celebrate the birthday of her son Friedrich, Princess Frederica hosted a big soirée, a ball like usual. Her son might not be heir to the throne, well he was in line somewhere, but he needed a celebration worth a member of the royal family. If he was the son of the king this ball would be bigger and even more marvellous. For her son Frederica would do anything. So, she has had the ballroom decorated with his favourite flowers, colours and had adorned at least every window with candles. She had gotten the best Prussian musicians for him, and even the loveliest voices of Hanover.

Only the best for her son’s birthday.

With his constant travels to the British Isles Frederica often didn’t see him for at least a month. And she knew that he’d soon sail away again, maybe this time it would be Scotland or Ireland. She didn’t know exactly. But she knew that she wanted to see her son happy. When Friedrich was happy, Frederica was happy too. But she feared that if he’d marry an English lady, she’d see him even less.

Maybe she’d have to settle for England too …

 Friedrich loved his mother and not only because she was the only parent left to him. He loved her dearly. It sounded cheesy but she was the best mother he could’ve ever wished for. He was thankful for the party; he knew how much work his mother has put in it. But this evening was delaying his departure for England by two days.

He loved his mother, really, he did. But instead of dancing with debutantes, daughters of family friends, and cousins, he wished to feel the rocky movement of a ship under his feet. Instead Friedrich had to be careful so that no feet would land on or under his.

After he had danced with three of his cousins, he was in desperate need of a break. Especially after having danced with his cousin Charlotte, who was a very passionate and fiery dancer. Instead of leading her, it felt like she was the one who swept him across the ballroom.

But as a prince, and birthday boy, it wasn’t easy to reach the plate filled with lemonade. Everyone needed to talk to him, and Friedrich was too polite to reject them. So, when he gulped down a glass of lemonade it felt like heaven trickling down his throat. He reached for another one, the glasses were far too tiny, when they announced the arrival of another “important” guest.

“Prince Karl of Bavaria and Princess Marie of Bavaria!” they announced when the couple entered the ballroom. Friedrich groaned, not because of them, but because of what, or better who, had to follow.

“And their daughter, Princess Y/N of Bavaria!”

The devil’s spawn.

Grunting in frustration Friedrich grabbed his glass and sprinted off, vanishing in the crowd. He needed to flee, before one of them saw him and decided to talk to him. Talking to the prince would be okay, but he wasn’t too keen on it either.

He needed to get away them – no, from you, as far and soon as possible.

Of course, his mother had invited them. They were her friends. But couldn’t they have left their daughter at home, far, far away in Bavaria?

Hiding amongst other men silently nipping at his drink, Friedrich hoped that he was invisible. He had avoided the middle of the room and the most obvious corners and pretended talking to other gentlemen. In his mind he was unable to be found.

“Griaß di Friedrich! We haven’t seen each other in ages.” Horrified Friedrich spit out his lemonade. Immediately apologizing to the gentleman, who’s coat he just had stained with the sugary drink.

How the hell did you find him?!

He could hear you laughing, maliciously laughing at him.

Your high, gleeful laughter made his skin prickle with anger, and yes, embarrassment. Only by the sound of your voice he could perfectly imagine how you must look like right now. And when he turned around, gritting teeth, he was absolutely right. You wore the same sly grin and superior face as usual.

Of course, he could tell by your sound how you looked like.

You always looked like this.

Looked at him like that when you met.

Usually Friedrich wasn’t petty when people didn’t follow the etiquette. He preferred not to be addressed as your Highness or Eure Hoheit actually. But he hated that you never addressed him correctly. Since he could remember you called him by his Christian name, always.

He hated how you said his name Friedrich, lightly pronounced with your Bavarian accent and hint of mockery. Especially the way how you rolled the first R made him furious. And it appeared to him, that you knew that and only did that to bother him.

“Eure Hoheit, good to see you,” Friedrich lied through gritted teeth. He never understood why he couldn’t bring himself to call you by your baptized name. According to court, he also bowed to you, but only lightly. He would never fully bow down or worse, kneel for you.

“Hm, the pleasure is all mine,” you replied, but your voice said the opposite. You weren’t pleased to be here, he knew that. But he wouldn’t be pleased to be in Bavaria to face you either.

Oh, and you never curtsied for him. You curtsied for his mother and everyone else but not for him.

“The ball looks lovely,” you said and didn’t sound malicious at all. To his surprise you sounded like you meant it. But he wouldn’t trust you, he wouldn’t do that mistake again. Deep inside he knew that this wasn’t all you had to say. You always had something to add.

Always.

Wary he nodded. “Indeed.”

“It’s good to see that one of you has taste,” you said, examining the decorations with a smile. Frederica made an amazing choice with adorning the windows with candles and adding flowers to the room that matched its colours. You really liked it. Friedrich knew that he was meant by your words. To you he had no taste at all.

His frustration slowly grew to anger. Silently raging with gritted teeth, a strong grip on his glass and a forced smile on his face, he asked you. “What do you want?”

“Nothing.”

Why couldn’t he believe you?

“Just formal greetings. And now my deed is done. So, pfiad de Friedrich!” You bid him goodbye in a singsong with wiggling fingers..

Before Friedrich could say anything in return, you walked off to god knows where. Gulping down his drink, again, in anger he watched you waddle off, until you merged with the crowd. Friedrich sighed in relief; he hadn’t even realized that he was holding his breath. Frustrated he rubbed his free hand slowly down his face.

Why was interacting with you always so exhausting?

 Friedrich wished to enjoy his birthday; he did. Not only for him but also for his mother, Frederica put so much effort in this evening and she was bursting with joy. But with Y/N of Bavaria attending he couldn’t relax. Even now, standing beside his mother, it was impossible for him to loosen up. Somewhere in the back of his mind was you, cackling like the witch you were, constantly reminding him that he did not want to encounter you again.

“I know you wanted to depart for England today,” Frederica suddenly said. “I’m sorry.”

Her apology took him by surprise. She doesn’t need to, sure he had had different plans, but he was enjoying his feast in the presence of his mother.

“For what?”

She smiled sadly at him, looking up at her taller son. “For keeping you here when you could be in England instead.”

Frederica warmed his heart, she always did. He clasped his mother’s hands in his. “Mother, I love it. England will still be there in two days or a week. It can wait but my mother cannot, you’re more important to me.”

Giggling she slapped his arm in a friendly, loving manner. “Oh, you. – I see you’re becoming a real charmer.”

Friedrich laughed at that. He didn’t know if he was that charming.

Princess Frederica looked proudly at her son, a warm smile tugged at her face. His father hadn’t been the best and their marriage a disaster, but she was proud of what Friedrich has become. He was so different than him. She just hoped that Friedrich didn’t end up like them and found love, and happiness in marriage.

 The party was going on for hours, and the prince slowly grew tired. His unwanted meeting with Y/N and the fiery dances with his cousin Charlotte, after the second dance she accused him of being a bad dancer, tired him out. Tonight, Friedrich had talked a lot, danced a lot, bowed and kissed hands a lot. He was tired and hoped to retire soon. Maybe if he talked to his mother …

But to his resentment she had a different plan in mind.

“Do me a favour,” Frederica said and pushed his arm towards the crowd. “And please ask Y/N to dance, will you? – She didn’t get to dance a lot, I can’t let the poor thing leave like that.”

Her son snorted, rolling his eyes. You were everything but definitely not poor.

The last person he wished to see was you, but he was too tired to protest so he marched unenthusiastically to the crowd. It took him some time to find you, to be fair, Friedrich didn’t do his best to find you. His subconscious led him the wrong ways, so he wouldn’t have to dance with you.

But there you were, standing beside your mother and looking almost as tired as he felt. He had no idea if you had arrived this day or yesterday at Prussia, and he didn’t care, but it sure must have been tiring. Sluggishly he approached you and greeted both you and your mother with a friendly fake smile. By the look of your eyes he could see that you were surprised to see him, and as uninterested as he was.

He took your hand, no, he had to grab it and hold it firmly for pretending to kiss it. The day his lips would touch your hands, or any other part of your body, would be the end of the world. Some sort of apocalyptic scenario. As soon as he had taken your hands in his, he had felt a small tug from your arm. You had wanted to pull your hand away, and still wanted to do so. But to your dismay, his grip was too tight.

Annoyed you pressed your lips together, which delighted Friedrich. Most of the time he despised you, but he loved it when he managed to irritate you. Oh, he’d surely frame this picture in his mind and put it to his gallery of ‘Y/N vexed faces’.

“I’d be more than honoured if you’d dance with me,” he lied, and you knew.

“No.” was all you said. And for a second, he taught that it was done, and he could retire to his mother. But your mother, Marie of Bavaria had other plans.

“She’d loved to, more than anything else.” She shot you, her daughter, a chiding look and shoved you right into his arms. Which mother would let the opportunity slide for her daughter to dance with a prince, even if she was a princess herself?

 Both young adults groaned but didn’t object. Friedrich rolled his eyes in annoyance when he dragged you to the dance floor. And yes, he really had to drag you. You put much effort in not entering the dance floor.

To both of your dismay the following dance was a waltz.

Grunting he put himself into the right position, squeezing your hands in his and tugging it with him. His grip was a bit too strong for your liking, but you showed no signs of it. You didn’t even wince. You’d would rather chop of your hand than give him the satisfaction of having power. So, you returned his action, and gave his hand a tight squeeze.

“We don’t have to dance,” you said a bit glum.

Friedrich shared the same excitement, but he had – more or less – made a promise to his mother. It was more of a silent promise.

“Yes, we do,” he grunted. “I gave my word to my mother.”

So, this was all Princess Frederica’s fault? You huffed in annoyance. You liked that woman but maybe not so much anymore. But how could you fool? You’d never despise his mother, for that Frederica was way too nice, unlike her son.

“I forgot that you’re a good son,” you mocked him with a perfectly surprised voice. As if he’d usually disappoint his mother. He’d never.

Following the music and other dancers twirled Friedrich you around, savouring that one second of freedom. But far too soon where you back in his arms and the fight for the strongest grip continued. Friedrich knew that he was squeezing hard, even a bit too hard. But your face showed no signs, not even a flinch. You seemed unbothered by it. And he hated it.

So, he changed his grip, squeezed your hand a tad different and harder. You gasped, not able to contain yourself any longer.

Damn Prussian.

“Pardon me, your Highness. I fear my grip was too strong.” Friedrich apologized smoothly with a charming grin. You gritted your teeth; you knew that it wasn’t an accident. He smiled, enjoying his small moment of triumph.

“You did this on purpose,” you snarled. All your dance partner did was feigning his innocence.

“I would never.”

Friedrich twirled you around again. Your mother might have partnered you together but none of you bothered to pretend enjoying this. You only did it because of them.

You two followed the flow of music, the sound and rhythm, which didn’t reflect your emotions. The tune was elegant and yet cheerful, switching from strong and louds chords to gentle and hush. Waltzing to the song would’ve been lotsof fun if you were only dancing with the right man.

Friedrich flinched slightly, pressing his lips together, when you suddenly trod on his toes. Usually his boots would protect him of the stomps of a light, delicate lady. But you tod on his feet with force, with all your power.

“My mother said you were a good dancer,” he said, ignoring his slightly throbbing toes.

Your foot accidentally hit his leg.

He tried not to flinch.

“I never thought of her as a liar, but maybe she did exaggerate your dancing skills.”

Your foot flew against his other shin.

“Oh, I am,” you assured him with an innocent smile, which he knew wasn’t innocent at all. “I think it might be my partner. A dancer is only as good as the one who leads. – Ow!”

“Kruzifix!” you cursed under your breath.

Now it was Friedrich turn to tod on your foot. Thanks to his boots and physiques, and your shoes, he needn’t much to coax out a reaction from you. He sighed theatrical. “I think you might be right.”

And looked at you with a certain grin, you wished to wipe from his face, stepping on your other toes. You glared at him. If eyes could kill, he would’ve been stabbed a dozen times by now.

“It is me who is the bad dancer. But as you said.” Following the tune, he pulled you towards him, making you gasp in surprise, your chests almost touching. You knew that this move was coming but his movements were so abrupt it surprised you. “It is the leader who has the other in their hands.”

According to the rhythm you had to break of, bring some air between you, only to come together again. This time it was you who stepped on the other’s foot again. Your dance was more of a fight and continued until the end. There was a lot of treading, kicking, and squeezing involved but neither of you thought of surrender. Surely several parts of your body would be bruised blue tomorrow.

 When the music grew silent, prince and princess were glad that the dance was over. Except for a formal farewell they said nothing to each other. Worn out did Prince Friedrich returned to his mother and Princess Y/N shuffled grimly to hers. The prince was more than relieved that this farce was over.

In two days, he’d be off to England and Y/N would be stuck far, far away in Bavaria. You and your spite would be far away from him. Friedrich probably had to encounter you next year, at his birthday, again but he’d make sure to never dance with you ever again.

#bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #prince friedrich imagines #prince friedrich x reader #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton fanfiction #prince friedrich fanfiction #own fanfic #lmao I'm nervous :'D #love to hate you

[treasureswordsgirl55]

Red Lipstick

Character: James "Bucky" Barnes

Pairing: James Bucky Barnes x Profesor Fem!Reader.

Inspired by: Ojos Negros - Ricardo Montaner

Warnings: First Meetings. Rainy day. Storms. Fluff! So Fluff. Funny. Bucky!White Wolf. Mentions of New Avengers. Post!TFATWS. Post!Endgame.

Author's Note: Hello everyone. I hope you're doing well. I just pass here to post this fic in thanks for all the replies, all the mentions in a lot of recs fics, and this is 'cause you likes my writing.

So thanks you! It means so so much.

I'm not having a good days and I need to clear my mind and stop thinking because otherwise I will continue crying ... Your replies always makes me smile. Is a caress from my broken heart in this moment.

I hope from the bottom of my heart that this fic likes you and thanks you for all the replies. Thank you. 💖

XOXO 😘

🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹

Ojos negros en el cielo de una noche fría, labios rojos que me hablaban y yo no la oía. ¿Tienes cuántos años? Pregunte, de repente con una excusa le invite un café....

- Damn storm! - I quickly stop under a small awning of one of the few shops that are open at 9:30 on a Saturday and I see how on the other side of the window, the clerk looks at me with a pout as if I were a hindrance to your local. I beckoned her to the pouring rain outside the awning, but all she does is ask me "delicately" with her hands to leave. I let out a sigh as I look for a place to take refuge without being kicked out and I remember the small coffee shop that is a block from here, so I manage to put the little black patent leather bag on my head and go for it. With each step I take, the rain seems to get stronger, and I notice it in my red jacket, which begins to be seen from the water that comes into contact with it. When I feel a kind of bump against my head, I give up, took the bag off my head knowing that it is already a disaster that will be accompanied by frizz in less than an hour and I walk the last stretch until he pushed the small door of glass of the place, feeling sure that God is not trying to drown me with so much water on my head.

My burning throat and my lungs that thank me for not running, calm my heartbeat that seems about to indicate that I am going to have a damn cardiac arrest. I approach the bar while I look for where the bathroom is and when I see my reflection against one of the windows of the small bar, I feel that my soul falls to the floor: the only makeup I'm wearing, which is mascara and eyeliner, are running down my cheeks as if I were the weeping woman coming out of the TV of an abandoned house. There is hardly any trace of my waves and my lipstick is barely smudged, apparently it is the only "waterproof" thing that sticks to its work.

Once I locate the bathroom, as soon as a waiter approaches, I ask him politely if I can come in, but he shakes his head as he sees me somewhat scared.

- Sorry, but only clients can use the bathroom.

Sure, of course. Did the rain make you an idiot?

- Of course, a cup of tea will be fine. Thanks.

The man in his 70s walks away muttering a Chuck Berry song that plays through the small speakers as I reach for my wallet to pay for my drink, but can't find it in my pocket. Maybe I dropped it when I ran here? Just thinking about it feels like the blood escapes from my body.

I open the backpack quickly while I feel that someone is watching me from my side, and as soon as I look up from the bag to see who it is, I do not find any curious attentive to my actions. I go back to my search and when I don't see the little white wallet on the black background, I release a curse.

What I was missing .... I remembered the last moments before leaving home and I remember that Alanis was practically inside my bag, looking for something to entertain her and I only have a second before seeing that the screen of my cell phone lights up and a Rose's message confirms that Alanis has my wallet.

It is impossible to curse a 3-year-old girl.

Before the waiter comes over with the drink, I peek around one corner of the bar and wipe off the rest of my makeup with a napkin so I don't look scared again.

- Sorry to bother you, but I won't have that tea. I hope you did not prepare - He barely smiled as I feel the heat begin to invade my cheeks. Suddenly I feel like everyone is looking at me even though they aren't, yet I mutter under my breath - I've forgotten my wallet.

The man just nods and I turn around while I wait for God to have mercy on me and I dispatch a taxi as quickly as possible to prevent me from getting any more water-soaked to college and for Cameron to be there to pay for it for me.

I will be the laughingstock of my students.

I quickly arrange things in the bag, I looked at me for a second in the reflection of the bar and when I feel that I do not look scary enough, I let out a long sigh, but instantly I feel a noise in front of me as I see that a small cup of white color with hot tea is in front of where I am leaning.

- I told you I can't afford it, sir.

- And I don't say that you have to do it - The man smiles at me as he indicates to the other side of the bar - The young man who is there invites you to tea.

I look in the direction the man is pointing and there are more than four men at the bar, all too old to be young. Before I even asked him who it was that took pity on me, I realize the meaning of the cup and run to the bathroom.

As soon as he entered and I see the mirror, I take off the rest of my makeup, try to erase the traces of the disaster that the rain caused with a little foundation and put the glasses back on while I feel like a person again. I do what I can with my hair and go out to have that drink quickly, but I realize that it is from a stranger.

What if someone is trying to poison me? Or kidnap me?

- This doesn't have poison, does it?

The man next to me, of the same age as the waiter, laughs before turns at my side and gives me a light tap on the arm - Stay calm, dear. Here if we want to get a woman we do not use those methods.

The blush rose again and I shook my head as I pushed the mug to the other side of the bar.

- If you say so, but I'm still late.

- I would not say no to the young man.

- Is he some kind of gangster? - He murmured in a knowing tone while the man only let out a laugh.

- No, he's a good man with a job ... Something particular. But he is a good man.

He smiled as I took a drink of the tea and let out a sigh at the feel of the herbs and the warmth of it. Is incredible. I drink the rest of it in one go and notice that in the distance, a man is watching me intently behind his coffee cup, a man I did not notice on my previous inspection. I cannot utter a word but I cannot deny that he is attractive, very attractive although with an aura of fear or perhaps pain. And with blue eyes that I think are capable of making anyone forget words.

I finish the tea with a smile and I thank the man next to me, who murmurs to me that I am good to him, for the young man with blue eyes, I imagine, because he is somewhat "rusty" regarding women.

I walk away from the bar and as soon as I get to the side of the man in question, he turns to me, frowning as if he hadn't been looking at me for the last five minutes.

- Thanks, you shouldn't have bothered.

- About what? - His voice makes a chill run through my body and I nervously finger the strip of my bag.

- The tea.

He shakes his head while he leaves some bills on the bar to the waiter and he smiles at him, as if they were accomplices of something. - You'll thank me later, Wolf.

- If you say so, Grant

Wolf? The stranger is completely turn himself until we are face to face, and at the same height.

- Why do you think it was me?

- Because you did not stop looking at me as if I was going to fall round at the first sip of tea.

The "blue-eyed prince" as my mind calls him from this moment on he begins to laugh at the same time as he drops his head, with a hint of shyness.

- I heard you needed to go to the bathroom, and that you lost your wallet.

- You are very attentive to conversations.

- Unfortunately I have a very developed hearing.

This time we both laugh as he stands and I mentally reprimand myself when my mind reminds me of my weakness for tall men. He is wearing a leather jacket with a blue t-shirt and I notice that one of his hands is wearing gloves. Gloves in the middle of summer? Who knows ...

- Really thanks. I did not want to be forced to present myself in front of my students as if I were La Llorona.

He frowns at the mention of the movie as if he doesn't know it.

- La llorona is from a horror movie. Haven't you seen it?

He shakes his head as he takes a few steps away from me and he starts to walk towards the door with me, but he gets close enough to take the little doorknob and open the door for me.

Oh god ... This has to be a joke. A man with gentlemanly manners?

The torrential rain makes an appearance and I pray that a taxi will show up before I return to join the water, but the stranger next to me sees me and touches my shoulder as he shows me a blue umbrella.

- You haven't brought an umbrella from what I see.

- That happens to me for not paying attention to my cousin. She had warned me about the rain ... I thought it was a joke.

I admit as I see the blue-eyed man extend the umbrella towards me and I shake my head, walking away as if it were hot iron.

- Take it, you need it more than I do.

- No, no. I can not accept it.

- Come on, at least have it until you get a taxi - I shake my head and I see that his gaze becomes opaque, I would even say slightly annoyed by my answer - Please. I can wait here.

- Why are you doing this? I don't know you and you don't know me.

- I simply wanted to help the beautiful young woman with red lips - I feel the air escape me and I forget for a minute about the class that I am already late for, that there is rain outside and that I am talking to a stranger who he might as well be a psychopath - I shouldn't have said that.

- What's your name? I am Emily.

Against all odds, and against my mind, I stop thinking and take a little leap into the void.

- James - He extends his hand to me and I take it without hesitation. A kind of electricity jumps between us that makes us laugh as soon as we separate, and I see that the rain begins to subside, as if some of this had been the key to stop it - But everyone who knows me calls me Bucky.

- Well, thanks, Bucky. Seriously, you saved this woman from being the laughingstock of college.

- I don't think you can be ...

- My students are difficult. Very difficult. More than 20-year-olds look like 13-year-olds.

He laughs again as soon as we see a taxi peek around the corner and I rushed to try to get out, but Bucky goes ahead and stops him for me. He walks over to where I am and places the umbrella over my head. He walks with me silently to the door of the taxi, which he gently opens and I turn to him before entering.

- I don't know how to thank you for what you did for me.

- It's nothing, doll. Lately, I am very good at helping people.

He downplays it and my cell phone starts ringing. I see the screen light up and Cameron's name invades it.

- I have to go. Duty calls me - I smile at him as I approach him and in a small impulse of courage, I give him a kiss on the cheek to hurry into the car.

- Bye Bucky.

- Bye. Hope to see you again, doll.

"Me too" I murmured as soon as the taxi got away from that little cafe.

🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹

- What do you have with rainy days? - I listen to Cameron through the earpiece as I approach one of the huge windows of a building that serve as a mirror to put on my red lipstick.

- They're special.

She just laughs and I hear footsteps behind me. I know who is it. He looked away from my reflection in the mirrored glass to see how he's leaning against one of the stoplight posts, watching my movements intently.

- I'll leave you, Cam. Let's talk tomorrow?

- Of course, you leave me for an Avenger. For that alone I allow it. Enjoy it for me - I laugh as he cuts the call and ditch the earpiece without paying attention to him.

- I'll never get tired of seeing you do that. You know?

He smirks as I watch him move closer until I turn around and wrap his arms around me. I feel his lips against my hair and I focus on the here and now. I feel the little raindrops falling down his jacket onto my face and I enjoy them.

- I'll never get tired of seeing you - He tightens his grip around me even more and only pulls away to rest his lips against mine in a soft kiss.

- You and your weakness with seeing women put on makeup.

- Only you - I separate from him and take him by the hands while I pull him towards the light drizzle towards the small coffee shop where we met - Will you invite me a coffee once and for all?

- Just because I want to show off about you - I scoff and hear him laugh behind my back - I really like to show off that my boyfriend is part of the Avengers.

- Is that just why you love me?

- For many other things, but it would be very scandalous to say them aloud in the middle of the street - He laughs at my tone of complicity and lets himself be carried away by my somewhat accelerated steps - We do not want that you lose the image of authority that you have, Sergeant.

- Tell me again, Sergeant, and I promise you that I wouldn't mind losing my authority here in the middle of the street.

The change in his voice makes a chill run through my body and I know that he will not have the slightest compunction in fulfilling his promise.

- Maybe, if you hurry, we'll talk about it later.

- Don't play with me, doll.

- Never, White Wolf.

#marvel cinematic universe #fanfic writer #marvel #tfatws #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fluff #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x oc #james bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x original female character #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes blurb #tfatws fanfiction #the falcon and the winter soldier #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #the avengers fanfiction #new avengers #i write for myself but you can read it too

[feather-dancer]

Tales of Arcadia Fanfic Recommendations - Part 6

I do admittedly have things left to read in my tabs I’d normally prefer to clear out before posting one of these but when you sail past the 30 mark I think it’s about time to get it out my drafts, yeah? Most importantly means this will be out before Rise of the Titans comes and emotionally destroys us all.

Needless to say soon as this is posted I give it 24 hours before 7 starts, we’ve got some amazing writers in this fandom and there’s a couple I juuust want one more chapter before I feel I can recommend it. Hope you find something you enjoy :)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

If at all interested in my own writing you can find it here!

General Trollhunters

Romeo, Question Mark - Jim is figuring himself out and has a question for Toby though nervous of how he might react. Honestly the support Aromantic’s need when they’re either questioning or coming out, Toby is a gem.

By The Book - After his dad left changing his world Jim had moments in his life where he needed to wrangle things in a way he could understand them with some moral support along the way that wasn’t there to do it for him, just give a light nudge the right direction. Comes with light Jilaire fluff.

That I Could Fear a Door - Jim was pulled from the Darklands whole but you cannot escape the trauma of your experiences quite so easily. It will take a little time, a lot of patience and perhaps the right ear to listen but with it can come hope.

Lest Back the Awful Door Should Spring - Sequel to the above, Jim’s capture to be sentenced by the tribunal echoes his experiences in the Darklands a little too closely sending all his careful progress hurtling back in one fell swoop. Is it any wonder he chose a false freedom that Unkar offered?

Façade - The confirmation that Mr. Strickler is not the man you thought he was probably was not going to be an easy one, Jim’s thoughts sit ill after that dinner.

Fashion - All changelings take root somewhere in a human life before their changeling one succeeds it and Nomura is no different. She felt love she could not understand and the ache of loss will follow for as she meanders through this world by the Whisper Man’s orders and her own volition of needing to belong somewhere. She will try her hand with the humans and the trolls, paint the road with blood as much as indulging herself with the arts and even risking her heart until everything leads her to Arcadia’s doorstep.

In Deep Trouble - What happened in the Deep during Season 2?

Aftermath - Just after the finale of Season 2 the Market trolls are forced to run leaving their homes behind and follow the Trollhunter they had dismissed so many times into the great unknown before them.

Don’t think - Jim weighs up his options and attempts to settle his thoughts before making the final decision whether or not to go through with using Merlin’s potion.

Nocturne for a Trollhunter - Jim learns a new hobby that gives him another way to relax that doesn’t involve cooking, one that follows him beyond Arcadia.

The Asteroid - A rare 3Below fic for my lists if centered on a certain hedge witch and Wizard. The end of the world is coming but not by Morgana’s hand and Merlin certainly never warned Douxie about it so if this truly is the end then it’s the best time to bring your loved ones close so you won’t be going out alone. Yes it’s Zouxie.

A bright future so it seemed (but that light grew a little less bright) - Claire’s parents (Or more specifically Ophelia) set her on the perfectionist’s path early, even a little slip can feel like the end of the world

Rest, Master Jim - You might be able to escape the Darklands but you cannot escape the consequences of being trapped there for so long as easily.

General Wizards

Not Found - So why did neither Douxie or Archie find the two remaining changelings in Arcadia or bring back the sole Akiridion when Merlin asked?

Place of Power - A lovely bit of shameless Zouxie fluff in that brief period the gang was at Hex Tech before the plot came to get them.

Bitter Water - Only two of the old team remain in Arcadia and those were Jim and Krel, the rest having left to pursue educational pursuits and in one particular case kept away for Nari’s safety. For the Akiridion he is still here with reminders of his heritage and what it took to have this life on earth chasing him all the way. It’s always good to have friends with a listening ear and hot chocolate.

Together, Dearest - The very act of resting is a potential invitation for nightmares and Nari is no different but when once more in the waking world you will find you’re not alone, there are hugs available.

The Night Belongs To Us - Lovingly described Skraelroc fluff during their long hunt for Merlin and the strangeness that can be observed on clearer nights.

Nineteen Plus Nine Hundred, Give Or Take - 900 years is a long time by anyone’s standards but perhaps during that Douxie can figure out how to truly live.

Twelfth Century Wizard, Twenty-First Century Witch - The follow up to the above, when you’ve lived a long and interesting life things can still pop up in odd ways... Even if you haven’t quite mastered the sacred art of texting yet.

ERAS TÚ (It was you). | Tales of Arcadia One-Shot - Would you want to live forever if it meant leaving everyone behind? Jilaire.

the only way for us to go - From his rescue from the streets of Camelot to the eventual guardian of this realm, Douxie has come a very, very long way. Through the frustrations of trying to learn magic, the belittling of others, the faith of Morgana and the power of music his experiences throughout 900 years truly make him what he is.

lay down your head - Even the mightiest can be plagued with the not so humble migraine. Skraelroc fluff.

Stricklake

Merry Christmas, Doctor Lake - Some Christmas gifts are worth going all out for and getting your friends and family to help out to make it extra special.

Grocery Run - After the incident where Merlin dismissed Strickler for being a changeling it is time for an excuse to get out the house for a bit and have a frank discussion about their relationship, the future beyond the incoming battle and lingering insecurities of two worlds colliding.

Alternate Universe

Fashionista, How Do You Look? - An AU that very much takes the term very literally here where everyone is human, Skrael, Bellroc and Nari are fashion designers plus many other ToA characters we know and love are either in the industry in some way themselves or on the fringes because of their jobs/who they know. Sometimes you work with catty bitches and want to kick back and watch the fireworks you know? Contains friends to almost to enemies to friends to maybe we’ll get our shit together this time but the odds aren’t great Skraelroc. There’s also a Zouxie oneshot in this collection that was a gift for meee because of the corner I dug in the AU.

Atlas, Fallen - When a star falls from the sky it is a punishment so when Atlas suddenly finds himself amongst the humans he had observed from above for countless ages in a flesh body like theirs he fears his Mother is punishing him and unable understand what he did wrong. While trying to find his way back home he gets a crash course in what it’s like to be human making friends along the way. Slow burn Jilaire.

she once was a true love of mine - I put this under the AU section even though it wavers between that and not, a mixture of classical Arthurian mythos and the glimpses of the Camelot in Tales of Arcadia where one kingdom collapses from war another strengthens by taking their princess as queen. While Arthur might have turned her head once it is the sibling that seems to be catching Gwen’s eye of late as much as her thoughts. Morgwen but in the department of pining.

Pulled From The Ocean - AU doesn’t quite fit this one but it feels a bit more fitting than general. A little oneshot snapshot of Jim living with deafness and the contrast of one world that falls easily into supporting that whereas the other tries their best but it makes the slip ups sting even more.

you are a stranger here, why have you come? - Fate is a funny old thing, something happens a little bit differently such as a father not leaving alone and everything can change so drastically. Nari’s fondness for children strikes again and this time it involves a 5-year old Jim Lake Jr. ending in the Order’s care and their foray into found family. Somehow Jim is even more of a disaster and as likely surmised from the fact I write this trope myself I am very weak for it.

go into your local forest and you will find a friend and a boy - Toby was unlucky in the friend department and by the time he is ten he still feels miserable and lonely having to endure Steve’s increasing bullying all the while. This is of course until he finds a blue half-troll hiding out the daylight hours munching cans in the local woods...

#trollhunters #3below #Wizards #ToAWizards #Tales of Arcadia

[hookingminor]

three lessons (final) - mat barzal

a/n: here is part 3 and the last installment of the series! I know it’s short but it kinda felt weird titling it “three lessons” and making it more than 3 parts so I'm just ending it here lmao please lmk your thoughts and comments I hope u all enjoyed this

word count: 4k

warnings (18+): loss of virginity, smut

PART ONE / PART TWO

-

Mat didn’t call or text you for two weeks. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. He did text you, but it was only to brush you off and make excuses every time regarding why he couldn’t see you.

In hindsight, Mat knew it was a terrible idea. Even now, intrinsically, he knew it was a terrible idea. But men were not known to be logical, and Mat was no exception.

So, he did the only thing he could think of: he ignored you altogether. Complete radio silence for two weeks.

The thing with ignoring you was that it gave him all the time in the world to think. He tried formulating ideas in his mind about how to ask you out, but every one seemed corny.

He contemplated just asking you out, but the threat of rejection scared him too much from pursuing that. He wondered if he should talk to your brother first, but Mat didn’t know how he was going to explain to his captain that he’d secretly been sleeping with his younger sister and now wanted to ask her on a date. That seemed like a recipe for disaster and a sure way to get his ass kicked. And lastly, he also considered just lying to you about your sexual skills just so he’d have a reason to keep seeing you. That one, however, risked offending you, and the last thing he wanted was to make you feel insecure or embarrassed.

Along with pondering about how to hang out with you outside the context of sex, he also thought about being with you within it.

Mat thought long and hard about what he wanted to do during your last time together if he was only given one more opportunity. Many of his thoughts included your hot, wet mouth wrapped around him, a fantasy that he had gotten himself off to more than he’d like to admit. Other thoughts included him taking you from behind, maybe pressed against his wall, or even bent over his couch.

Frankly, there were just too many things Mat wanted to do to you, but he knew he didn’t have much time left. And that was why he was relying on his own charm to win you over so he didn’t have to choose what he wanted to do.

This internal debate raged on inside his head for two weeks, and Mat still didn’t have a clue about how to carry on. On one side, if he came off too strong, he risked you pulling away and breaking things off. On the other side, if he strung you along, he feared you’d only see him as a casual hookup. The last one he was able to bounce off of, but he didn’t want to hide his feelings.

Mat liked to be straightforward with the people he slept with, and sleeping with you while also hoping for more wasn’t straightforward.

And it’s not like he could go to anyone for advice, which he desperately needed right now.

You contacted him a few times to follow up and see when he’d next be available, but it was clear he was either very busy outside of hockey or he didn’t want to see you. Your heart dropped a little when you thought about the latter because you really thought you had a good time together. But maybe that was all in your head and he experienced something completely different.

You hadn’t expected your first time having sex would be phenomenal to him, but you at least thought it would be tolerable. See? This is why you needed the help. You were never going to get good at sex if you didn’t even have someone to have sex with.

After his last rejection, this time saying his family was coming into town, you decided to drop the subject. You weren’t going to beg him for sex, and if he didn’t want to see you, he didn’t want to see you.

So why were you upset at the fact he was ignoring you?

You tried your hardest to push the negative thoughts to the back of your mind. He’d served his purpose and could move on with his life for all you cared. You could be mature about this. You could let it go and continue with business as usual.

But, you also felt the need to pick yourself up a little bit, which is why you decided on a girl’s night out. If Mat wouldn’t sleep with you anymore, you would find someone who would. You just hoped the alcohol would make up for the fact that you didn’t know what you were doing.

Was it a smart choice? No, but you stopped making smart decisions when you asked Mat to help you. What was one more bad choice?

You dragged your roommate from her studying to force her out with you. It was out of character for you to be so excited for a night out, but even though she was skeptical, she didn’t question your intentions.

Dressing yourself to the nines, you perfected every aspect of your look. Even if nothing happened from tonight, you wanted to make it count. After taking a few selfies, making sure to post them to your story, you ordered a car to take you to the club.

“Are you going to tell me what this is all about?” Your roommate asked as you adjusted your boobs in your dress.

“Do you really want to know?” You questioned back, knowing well she wasn’t one to talk about feelings.

“Not really. I don’t feel like playing therapist tonight, but it’s my roomie duty to ask at least,” she shrugged, slipping on a pair of boots.

“Then don’t worry about it. Let’s just focus on getting drunk,” you replied with a wide smile. She gave you an eye roll back but didn’t argue.

-

The second Mat stepped into the club, he knew something was off. He wasn’t sure, but the air around him felt charged with something… he just didn’t know what.

Less than ten minutes later, he figured out what it was. It was you.

He spotted you on the dance floor from his booth dancing seductively with your friend. Mat did a double-take, not actually sure if it was you or if the two weeks without you was finally playing tricks on his mind. He blinked once, twice, three times before he registered it was you.

“Already got your eye on someone, Barzy?” His friend asked with a chuckle, nudging Mat’s side with his elbow. Mat tore his gaze away from you quickly, not realizing he had been staring for so long.

Mat was thankful he was out with some friends rather than his teammates because he would’ve been seared on sight if someone saw him ogling you. Still, he didn’t want to take the chance any of them would recognize you.

“Nah, just looking around,” he said, laughing off the awkwardness.

Mat didn’t dare look back at the dance floor despite how badly he really wanted to. The last thing he needed was his friends chirping him about a woman this early on in the night, especially when that woman was you.

He waited about five minutes and for the drinks to arrive, the guys's attention focused on the beers instead of Mat, before he glanced back.

He found you instantly, but the lustful shock he felt initially was replaced with jealousy and resentment when he saw you were no longer dancing alone. His eyes focused on the pair of hands that were gripping your hips, only a few centimeters from your ass.

Mat tried to suppress the roiling feeling in his stomach when he saw you laugh at something the stranger whispered in your ear. His grip around the beer bottle tightened and he took a long swig, forcing himself to turn his attention back towards the table before it got suspicious.

His friends were talking about the latest Knicks game, but every word they said was going in one ear and out the other. The only thing Mat could think about was how you were less than twenty-five feet away dancing with someone that wasn’t him, how you were laughing with someone that wasn’t him, how you were letting someone touch you that wasn’t him.

He risked another look but regretted it instantly when he saw the same guy was still there.

“Alright, what’s up with you, Barz?” Someone called from the table. He whipped his head back to see who addressed him, finding all of his friends staring at him expectantly.

“Nothing. Just thought I saw someone I knew,” he brushed off casually, “What were we talking about?”

“We were talking about the game,” his friend said, putting emphasis on the ‘we,’ “You were staring at that little thing over there in the tight jeans. So who is she?”

“Just someone I know,” he muttered, taking another sip of his beer.

“You wanna go talk to her? Should we invite her over here?” His friend offered.

“No,” Mat said a little too quickly He closed his eyes in defeat, realizing he’d just given his friends exactly what they wanted.

“Is the infamous Mat Barzal jealous?” A crowd of ‘ooh’s sounded around the table. Mat flattened them all with a glare, but the smirks didn’t fall.

“Just go get her, Mat,” one of the guys said after a moment, “You’re no use to us being pissy all night.” The other guys nodded their agreement, gesturing for him to leave.

“Fine. You’re all assholes anyway,” Mat grumbled reluctantly. He set his nearly empty beer back on the table before pushing himself out of the booth, a chorus of whoops following him as he threaded his way through the crowded dance floor over to you.

Mat found you easily as he hadn’t taken his eyes off you the entire night. He walked up next to the guy who you were currently gyrating against and put a strong hand on his shoulder.

“Show’s over, buddy. Get moving,” Mat yelled over the music, nudging his head towards the door. The stranger turned to give him a funny look, but he quickly backed down when he saw how much space Mat took up. Mat wasn’t in the mood to play games right now, and the guy easily picked up on that.

You turned your head around when you felt the body you’d been dancing with for the past twenty minutes move. Your waist wasn’t unoccupied for long, a pair of hands quickly replacing the ones you’d lost.

“Mat?” You asked in confusion, stopping your dancing to fully face him. Mat kept your body close, though, hands dropping to rest on your ass.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, bending down to say it into your ear.

“I was having a good time,” you replied, annoyed at the way he just cock blocked you.

“With that guy? No you weren’t,” he said confidently.

“I was, actually. I have to talk to someone since you’ve clearly been ignoring me,” you said with an eye roll. He ignored the jab you threw at him.

“It didn’t look like you were doing a lot of talking.”

“I’m surprised you even know what talking is considering how little of it you do,” you snapped, pulling out of his hold.

Mat didn’t let you slip out of his reach, though, hand grabbing your wrist before you could get too far. He knew you were about two seconds from walking away from him, probably for good.

“Then how about we go back to my apartment and talk,” he said impulsively, almost on the verge of begging.

“Now you want to talk?” You retorted, crossing your arms.

“Or we can not talk?” He suggested, hoping the smirk he gave conveyed more than what he said.

“Final lesson?” You propositioned, raising a brow. Mat’s features fell quickly as his heart rate picked up. He didn’t plan on a final lesson, at least not right now, but he knew if you left tonight the odds he saw you again were slim.

“I didn’t really have anything planned yet,” he recovered quickly, “but tonight can be a free pass…”

“So not a lesson?” You countered.

“Oh, it’s a lesson,” he explained, “Just not our last one.”

“You’re playing with fire here...,” you trailed off, faking contemplation as you considered his offer. You knew the second he asked, you were going to say yes. Despite the irritation at the fact he was acting like nothing was wrong, your libido had a mind of its own as it remembered the last time his tongue was on you.

“Trust me, I know,” Mat chuckled, bringing your body into his once again.

“Take me home then, Barzal.”

Mat was already leading you towards the entrance before you finished your sentence.

-

You were pushing Mat backwards towards the couch when you stumbled through his front door. Your hands flew up to push the jean jacket off his shoulders as you both kicked off your shoes in the doorway. He never broke the kiss as the back of his calves hit the couch.

Mat plopped down on the cushions, hands guiding you to straddle his lap. Your fingers gripped the back of his neck as you deepened the kiss and entangled your tongue with his. You gently rocked your hips against his, feeling him harden beneath you. His hand squeezed your ass through your jeans as he audibly groaned into your mouth.

“How much have you had to drink tonight?” Mat breathed out when you pulled back and began pressing kisses against his neck.

“I stopped drinking like two hours ago,” you said into his ear, nipping at the skin.

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure before…” he said, ending the sentence in a groan when you sucked harshly at his throat.

“Before what?” You asked, pulling back to look him in the eyes.

Mat’s eyes darkened as he bit his lip contemplatively, bringing his hand up to drag his thumb over your bottom lip.

“Get on your knees,” he stated, moving his hand to cup your cheek.

Your eyes lit up at his order, a sly smirk appearing on your lips. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t looking forward to eventually getting him in your mouth, and the day had finally come.

Eagerly, you shimmied your body off his, lowering yourself onto your knees in front of him. Mat sat forward a little bit and reached down to grab the hem of your shirt. He lifted it over your body with ease, tossing it somewhere off to the side. You looked up at him with doe eyes, an innocent look on your face as you awaited further instructions.

“Fuck, don’t give me that look or this will be a very short lesson,” Mat cursed.

You didn’t change your features as you asked your next question.

“What do I do first?”

“Take my pants off,” he commanded.

You did as he said, moving your hands to unbuckle his belt and unzipping his jeans. Mat lifted his hips up slightly to help you tug his pants down, bringing his boxers along with them. You pulled them over his feet and tossed them to join your shirt. His cock sprung out at full length, resting against his abdomen. You leaned back on your heels after you freed him, pausing a moment to take it all in.

“Just a disclaimer, but I’m probably not going to be good at this,” you said with a light laugh, hoping your nervousness wasn’t showing.

“I promise just about anything you do will feel good,” Mat chuckled darkly, “And I’ll guide you through it.”

Mat could tell what he said did little to calm your nerves, so he leaned forward and brought your face closer to his. He gave you a sweet kiss on the lips and brought a hand to run through your hair to make you feel more comfortable.

“Just start slow, okay?” He reassured, pulling back to tug his shirt off. You nodded your head and tentatively brought your hand to grasp his dick.

Slowly, you squeezed your hand gently, twisting up and down as you familiarized yourself with him. Mat’s hands reached out to the back cushions, tightly gripping the fabric as you ran your thumb over his tip. You spread the precum over the head of his dick, bringing your thumb to your lips and sucking it into your mouth.

“Jesus, please do something,” Mat groaned, eyes dark as he watched you lick your thumb. He felt two seconds away from combusting and you hadn’t even put your mouth on him yet.

Taking him back in your hand, you held eye contact as you pressed light kisses on his thighs, slowly moving upwards. When you reached his base, you leaned in and licked a long stripe along the underside of his cock all the way to his tip. Mat’s jaw fell slack, but you didn’t give him time to recover as you closed your lips over the head.

You hollowed your cheeks against him, sucking lightly. His hand darted out to tangle in your hair when you sucked him and a deep moan escaped his lips. Mat’s fingers fisted your hair to softly encourage your timid movements.

“Move your hands with it,” he said breathlessly. You listened to his advice and moved your hand in tandem with your mouth.

Mat pressed your head down a little further, careful to not overwhelm you. You took a couple more inches easily, squeezing what you couldn’t reach at his base. When you drew back around his tip, you sucked your lips together tightly and Mat threw his head back against the couch.

“Holy shit,” Mat stammered, his hips instinctively thrusting up, “I’m close.”

You weren’t confident enough you could swallow your first time, so you didn’t take any chances. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin the moment by trying to be bold. Withdrawing your mouth from his length, you finished jerking him off with your hand until Mat’s abs were tensing in front of you. A few seconds later he was coming, coating your chest as his eyes shut and mouth fell open in a silent gasp.

“Fuck, baby,” Mat moaned when he opened his eyes, taking in your swollen lips and freshly fucked face, “I can’t even express how hot you look right now.” Reaching down and picking you up by your waist, he pulled you back onto his lap as he kissed you deeply.

Not caring about the mess between you, Mat hitched your legs around his waist and carried you to the bedroom.

Tossing you on the bed, Mat rushed to the bathroom to grab a washcloth, lobbing it over to you to clean yourself off. He didn’t wait another second before nestling himself between your legs.

“My turn,” he smirked, attaching his lips to your dripping cunt.

-

Mat woke up the next morning to the sun filtering in through his curtains and the sound of your soft snores. He blinked his eyes open, gaze immediately falling down to the sight of you curled into his side and your head resting on his chest.

He brushed the few strands of your hair that had flown up into his face out of the way. Careful not to wake you, he very gently slid out from your grip and used his hand to place your head on the pillow.

Since he’d completely fucked up every plan he originally had by bringing you home last night, he had to think of a new plan.

Mat threw on a pair of sweatpants quickly and silently left his bedroom, making his way towards the kitchen. He figured he didn’t have much time before you woke up and noticed he was gone, so he had to work fast.

-

You woke up to the smell of something burning. Sitting up swiftly, you panicked, thinking the apartment was somehow on fire before you heard the clang of a pan in the kitchen followed by a loud “Shit!”

Confusion etching across your features, you rolled yourself out of bed and slipped on one of Mat’s shirts before padding out into the hallway.

The sight before you was one of chaos. You turned the corner and walked into a war zone. Mat was hunched over the sink, rinsing out a pan that had steam rising furiously into the air.

“What the hell did you do?” You asked with wide eyes, glancing at the amount of dishes that cluttered the counters. Mat jumped back in surprise, pan falling out of his hand and crashing into the sink.

“You weren’t supposed to be up yet,” he said hurriedly, turning his attention to the pan on the stove that has now started to smoke up.

“Were you trying to make breakfast?” You wondered, laughing at his disheveled state.

“Yes,” he replied, “I’m not very good at cooking.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” you chuckled, “Why were you making breakfast?”

“I was trying to impress you, but I can’t cook to save my life,” he explained, turning off the stove.

“Why were you trying to impress me?” Shit, he hadn’t even realized the slip-up.

“Uh, I was meaning to talk to you about that over breakfast,” he said awkwardly, turning to face you.

“Well, since you burned breakfast why don’t you just talk to me now?” You suggested, taking a seat at the counter.

Mat slowly walked his way over to you, stopping when he was standing across from you, only the counter separating you. His eyes focused on the granite as he cleared his throat.

“I was, uh, I was going to ask you if you maybe wanted to go on a date with me some time?” He asked sheepishly.

“Oh,” you replied, both in confusion and surprise.

“Oh?” He repeated, finally lifting his eyes to meet yours.

“I didn’t expect that, is all,” you stated, a blush rising to your cheeks.

“I know we said no strings, but I really want to take you out and, you know, hang out with you without the sex,” he explained. You raised your eyebrows at him.

“Not that the sex is bad,” he rambled quickly, “The sex is great, fantastic actually, I just think you’re cool and want to get to know you better.”

“Why me?” You asked, reiterating the same question he had when you asked him for his help.

“I don’t know,” he sighed, “There’s just something about you, and I want to figure out what that is. I wanted to ask you out after our last, uh, get together, but I didn’t know how to ask you.”

“Is that why you ignored me?”

“I swear I wasn’t intentionally ignoring you,” he said, “I just wanted a game plan before I saw you again, but then I saw you last night and... yeah.”

Your lips twisted up at his last statement as you reveled in Mat’s sudden shyness. You hadn’t expected him to ever be interested in you like this, but it was a pleasant surprise nonetheless.

Mat watched the smile spread across your face, but he wasn’t quite sure how to take it. It didn’t look like you were about to reject him, but he couldn’t be positive.

“You want to ask me on a date?” You gushed, hopping off your seat and walking towards him.

“Yeah, I do,” he smiled down at you, pulling you closer by your hips.

“How does breakfast right sound?” You offered, reaching up to wrap your hands around his neck.

“Right now sounds perfect,” he answered, leaning down to kiss your lips. You must’ve misread the situation because what Mat wanted to be a sweet peck soon turned heated as you deepened the kiss.

Mat moaned lightly when you pulled back, head leaning forward to chase your lips.

“Wait, we still have to figure out one thing,” you chuckled, turning your face so his lips met your cheek instead.

“What’s that?” He muttered.

“We have to tell my brother,” you giggled.

Mat’s head fell against your shoulder as he let out a disgruntled groan.

“Maybe we can wait a little bit until then?” He teased.

You laughed loudly at the way his brown eyes widened to give you what you assumed was his attempt at a puppy-dog look.

“Yeah, we can wait a while.”

#mat barzal #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nhl smut #hockey smut #mat barzal imagine #nhl fic #my writing

[lilyrachelcassidy]

Summer Nights (2)

A/N: Is that... is that...? The unbridled enthusiasm I’m hearing? Or are you trying to reach me with torches and pitchforks for being so untrustworthy? Assuming the first option.

Anyway -- Yes, as I promised, this is the second part of the Summer Nights which you would hopefully enjoy. Waiting for your feedback. It’s the INDEX if you need a refresher.

ALSO, I give a lot of credit to @drawlfoy and @bored-and-botheredwho helped me with editing this chapter and steamed off my emotional breakdown related to my writing (lmao). I love you so much gals and a big THANK U once more!!!

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: coarse language; alcohol; Narcissa turning into a shitty-mother (lol)

Tags: @war-sword @paradigmax @winnsmills @idkatee@bforbroadway @okaydraco

The next thing Draco knew, he was being woken up with a massive hangover in the snuggly, way-too-comfortable bed by the high-pitched squeal of his mother.

"You, darling, made a lot of trouble for yourself yesterday," Narcissa admonished her son, a glacial cool look on her face. Entering Draco's hotel apartment, she walked over to the window and opened the drapes with one swift movement, splashing an annoyed Draco with light. He groaned, not yet daring to complain due to his mother's livid mood, to say the least.

"You have no idea of what happened yesterday, do you?"

"Yyy-" was the only sound he could make. God, where to the fuck was he? He hadn't been this plastered in forever.

"Of course you don't." Narcissa shook her head and laughed nervously, although she made it plainly obvious there was nothing humorous about the situation. "You blacked out so hard in that sleazy bar there is no way you can recall anything from yesterday. Look at you -- you are squinting at me like I'm the sun!"

Draco nervously ran his finders through his disheveled hair. He was definitely not in the right mind to provoke the conflict. "I left you the note at the reception," he informed her, trying to slickly get out of the unenviable conversation. "Told the receptionist to hand it over."

Contrary to his mother's accusatory ascertainment, he actually had some glimpses of the previous night (or should he say an all-night rave?). There were for sure drinks -- a lot of drinks; a variety of kinds he didn't recognize from the magical world but still guzzled delightfully. The second recollection was dancing --which wasn't his intention, but with some luck of his -- got invited by some hot-looking chicks from across the table. And yes, he definitely remembers the swaying and the rhythmical moving of the hips along with some cheesy muggle vibes mixed with the smell of booze and weed. Maybe he even hooked up with one of the girls? The last thing he recollects before passing out, almost like through a haze, was seeing Narcissa's furious face screaming something incoherent at him. Overall, that's his all night wrapped in one.

"Do you think the mere note 'I will be fine' was going to calm down my shattered nerves? Draco Lucius Malfoy, I swear to our dear ancestors, I did not raise you to act so irresponsibly." She waved the finger at him warningly. “We come from rich history. You are the descendant from a line of successful forefathers who put their effort into building up our reputation. Do you think Lucius would approve of such unrestrained behavior? I’ve been already hearing of letting you be too careless. Is tha-"

"Mother, could we skip the lecture?" Draco snapped angrily, try as he might to suppress it. "I've heard it too many times. All I’m trying to have is a peaceful life. Without the prying eyes of the media and the meddling of my family..."

"And all I’m trying to have is an integrated, happy family to offer you support and love.” Draco opened his mouth to cut her in, but she shushed him with a wave, clearly suggesting 'Don’t even get me started’ meaning. “I’ve been- been trying  to get a job, going through the infelicitous job interviews and looking for a solution to help our household through the post-war crisis. Have you shown any interest in that? Any?"

"But mo-"

"The last thing I want to have on my mind is dealing with your ignorant, boyish transitional stages, and let me tell you -- you do not make it any easier for me," she said without taking a breath. She exhaled slowly and continued, this time forcing a softer tone. "I ask you one thing for this summer. Let it be an enjoyable time without unnecessary conflicts. We have come to the beautiful country as France. Let's make a good thing out of it."

Draco, who was already wide awake by the buzz of adrenaline, looked at her with a serious expression. Scanning her face made him suddenly realize how hard must it have been for her to bear everything, and seeing the bags of tiredness under her beautiful, hazel eyes stopped him from retorting. "Mother, no matter what happens, I'll always support you. Remember that."

Narcissa smiled. “Oh. I know, honey, I know.” This time she lowered her voice by two octaves, slowly sitting at the edge of the bed. “It’s just… people have been gossiping behind our backs lately, partly throwing the blame at us. All I’m trying to do is protect us from those tormentors. But your binge drinking is not making the deadlock any better, and it drives me mad.” She chortled a little bit and patted Draco’s palm. “So, until the rumors die down, all we can do is raise our chins high.” Narcissa ended, her voice encouraging yet plaintive.

The last thing Draco liked is seeing his mother on the verge of emotional exhaustion, like in this moment. He felt an instant surge of sympathy, so he quickly found himself locking Narcissa in the supportive embrace. She responded to the gesture by wrapping her arms around her son’s neck and stroking his cheek delicately with the back of her hand, just like in the old times. Both of them yearningly wished to come back to those years of frivolity.

"I promise I'll try to be better," Draco said with certainty. Seeing Narcissa’s eyes light up in gratefulness and the smiley dimples form on her features, he assured himself it was the right thing to say at that mother-son moment.

“How could I be so lucky to have such a wise boy,” she muttered proudly, kissing Draco at the top of his head. “But perhaps you should not restrain yourself too much during the holiday. I give you the partial alibi per se. Just keep it under control.”

Smiling, Narcissa got up, straightening up her impeccable posture as in the habit of the high-status woman. For the first time in that day, Draco noticed how elegantly she was dressed up: the black, partly lacy dress stopping at the level of her knees; the shiny-white pearl jewelry perfectly matching her entire outfit; dark yet not defiant high-heels; andhair fixed up in the tight bun. In Draco’s opinion, she looked too prim...even for herself.

"Mother, are you heading somewhere?" he asked curiously.

“Well…” she started, blushing. “I’m going to see my old friend in the coffee shop. I haven’t been there for ages, so it’s one of the chances to meet up with them. Hopefully, you are going to take care of yourself for a few days.” 

"Days?" he asked, shocked.

“You didn’t expect me to travel from town to town, did you?” she laughed lightly. “Bordeaux is quite a route to overcome. So I might be settling there for a few nights. Do you mind it, darling?”

Was he positive about the information? Did he mind? Partly yes. He didn’t imagine the prospect of wandering around the alleys of France on his own, especially on the first day of being there. But from the other side, seeing the joy painted on his mother’s face as she told him about the planned get-together made him feel less skeptical. Plus, getting rid of the extreme supervision for a few days wouldn’t be such a disaster as well.

As he calculated now, the ratio about the idea was 90% pro and 10% against.

"Of course not," he said simply, smiling at his mother.

"I knew you would understand." The crease of uncertainty on her forehead disappeared, and she let out a sigh of relief. "Meanwhile... I have already booked you the brunch downstairs but seeing as you are not in the wholesome state, I might order a delive-"

"Don't..." Draco opposed, rising from the bed and throwing the nearest shirt he could find over his head. "I'll come down. Some fresh air may be a cure for a hangover. Oh, and speaking of hangovers -- do you happen to have an anti-hangover potion?"

Narcissa let out a quiet chuckle and clapped her hands, seemingly satisfied with herself. Her tranquil gaze landed on the cupboard. "As a matter of self-preservation, yes, I do. Try searching inside the bedside cabinet."

He thanked her and then they talked with each other a little bit longer until Narcissa took the pocket watch out of her handy purse, noted the time ("Merlin's Beard, I am so tardy! I'm going to be alone on the platform if I stay here a minute longer!), and –a little startled with her inadvertency – hurriedly declared she should get going ("I really should get going Draco!”). Pecking her son twice on the cheeks as a farewell, she rushed towards the door and, for the last time, turned around to blow a brief motherly goodbye kiss. She left in such a hurry that the only sign indicating her presence in the room a few seconds ago was her familiar perfume lingering about in the air.

Draco gathered his clothes, and after half an hour of very difficult preparations while dealing with the consequences of yesterday's actions -- because the potion finally hits after two to three hours -- he found himself in front of the hotel's restaurant. As he walked in, he had to admit the room enchanted him with its lovely atmosphere, which brought back the memories of his first Hogwart's magical feast as an eleven-year-old boy.

With the large windows allowing plenty of light in, the entire space was in the classical style. The whole floor was clad with marble tiles in the white-like color; the walls were purely white and, apparently, someone must have put a lot of effort not to let a single dust spot appear in there; the ceiling was created in the concept of the sky resemblance making an impression of the real clouds hovering over heads. Three enormous chandeliers made a very good fit with carved wooden tables and similarly-looking chairs.

"Sir, would you like to make an order?" The decently looking waitress walked over to his table, with a white apron around her waist and green, deep eyes staring at him. "I'm Laura, by the way. I'll be serving you today."

He nodded, not really paying much attention to her primitive attempts of having a chit-chat. Cursorily glancing at the menu, he decided on having a french bagel with melted cheese and a coffee which was a specialty of the house as was written in the recommendations. The waitress scribbled something sloppily in her notes, smiled briefly, and then strode away.

The restaurant was almost fully emptied, and the only things heard in the background were a heated discussion of the couple beside the table and a composition of french, old songs prepared specifically for the guests.

Draco let out a small sigh of boredom, thinking yet again about the scenery of today. The only ideas that crossed his mind were either lounging in his stuffy hotel room or finding another hang-out spot to drown his sorrows.

After the War, he had found out it was pretty easier not to give in to any of the memories, blurring them out with the support of Scotch as a coping mechanism. Pansy and Daphne, his childhood friends, had tried to talk him out of it, kindly offering some tenderness and a chance for a conversation. But he had eventually stopped caring about any of that bullshit anymore.

That's why perhaps he'd just--

"Hi!" said a cheerful voice behind him, making him jump slightly at his seat with surprise. At first, he thought it was a mistake; that he must have been deemed as someone else considering he didn't know anyone around, so was in the opposite way. Turning around, however, made him realize it wasn't entirely the truth. "Do you remember me?"

"Hello." Of course, he remembered her. It was the receptionist from the previous day, whose name he didn't bother to memorize. Although he planned on avoiding potential candidates for a talk today, he said truthfully, "Yes, I do. You work here, right?"

"Yeah," she confirmed, smiling. "Can I join?"

For a moment, his sluggish brain did not process what she was asking about, and that made him frown. The girl probably comprehended what it was about because she explained, reading his confused expression. "...the table".

"Oh," he said, feeling more than embarrassed for his dumb reaction. "Yeah, help yourself."

"Thanks," she mumbled, pulling out the chair to make some room for herself. "Tough night, huh?"

The inquiry made him suddenly realize she must have witnessed the whole scene yesterday -- him asking her for a favor, Narcissa drilling her out for any clues about his disappearance, his arrogant attitude, and scurrility as he spoke to her. For sure, if she were smart enough, she would deduce what the situation was about.

He couldn't help it, but a wave of shame pierced through his body, and his stomach rolled slightly.

"A little," he answered minimizing a dimension of the spree, almost like a lie, and then he shook his head. "Listen, sorry about yesterday. I might have been...rude."

A small smile of courtesy formed on her lips. "I presumed you were a little off. Happens..." she said tentatively, gripping both of her hands together. "Oh, and about yesterday -- you lost this at the lobby." She took his wand out, and Draco's stomach made a second roll, the heartbeat hastening like a speed of light. He quickly tried to bring his face to the natural expression, but the girl had noticed that, and curiosity filled her eyes. "I thought I should give that back. In case it was valuable or something."

Fucking great... How was he supposed to elucidate that?

His throat felt so dry he couldn't let out a word of excuse. The moment was so mortifying to him he just reached for the familiar wand and nodded politely in gratefulness.

"Mhm..." Draco hummed, barely audible and momentarily deflated. "It's just... Something I've been training with..."

What the fuck is that supposed to mean, dolt?!

"Oh," the girl unconsciously flipped her hair off the shoulders, probably trying to make sense of the information. Furrowing her brows, she put her hand under the chin. "Are you a magician?"

"Kind of..." he agreed, not happy about the reputation he had just created for himself, but at the same time satisfied he didn't have to make up more explanations.

Luckily for Draco, the uncomfortable pause was rescued by the arrival of the food -- thank Merlin -- and even though he hadn't been hungry at all, now he felt an unexpected appetite to eat up the awkwardness. The girl probably caught a hint it was about time to end an encounter because she grunted.

"Listen," the girl started, clearing her throat yet again. "I better get going. But..."

The next thing Draco knew was that she was reaching to her pocket again, this time taking out something similar to a quill, only without ink. He assumed it must some kind of muggle invention, only a mechanical-like version. The girl uncorked it and suggestively drew out her hand, clearly signifying he should bring his hand closer as well. He obediently did.

"France is a big city," she said, glancing at him and sounding serious. "If you ever needed someone to show you around, let me know."

Without any preamble, her soft, delicate fingers grasped his forearm (he made sure to give her the right one), and with a few scrawls on his skin, she looked at him merrily, blushing slightly, and then left a table.

He stared after her for a while, looking at her curls bouncing behind her back as she walked away at a slow, monotonic pace. After a few seconds, she disappeared out of his sight, letting him finally peek at the note she had left:

'Call me, Y/N,' and a nine-digit number attached.

XOXOXO

A/N: I know this part might have contained too little Draco x Reader momento, but I promise it’ll get better as a plot develops. Also -- is it only my impression, or is Narcissa as changeable as the weather in Germany lol.

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco x you #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fanfic #summer nights #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco Malfoy x oc #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #draco Malfoy x you #Harry potter imagine #draco Malfoy fanfic #hp #draco malfoy x muggle #my writing #draco x oc #draco

[twoidiotwriters1]

Iron 7 (Peter Parker x F!Oc)

Words: 2, 323

Masterlist

Chapter 6

Post-credits scene (Iron man 1) / Chapter 8

2010

"It's unfair that I can't go," Lily complains, walking into the living room.

"You should get used to it," Jess says without taking her eyes off the television where they’re playing the replay of the grand opening of Stark Expo. "No one else can find out who your father is.”

Lily leans against the back of the chair where Jessica is.

“It’s unfair. My dad hasn't even said anything about going, lots of kids have fun there,” She sighs.

The screen highlights the dance of some women in small red shorts and tops, referring to the armor. And to Tony with a huge smile showing his great achievement.

"Even he has more fun than me,” She grimaces. "Although, I think he’s more cocky now than before…”

“Big word,” says Jess. "Stop complaining. Maybe one day, I can take you.”

"Seriously?"

"If your father lets us visit him for free, of course,” She turns to see her and smiles. “Now finish your homework.”

“Fine."

Lily returns to the table with all the homework that her math teacher left her after her private class. She expected to go to school like a normal girl, but Pepper and Tony insisted on hiring several teachers to visit her during the week. "We can't risk it," They said, much less when reporters and practically the whole world follows Tony in every move since he broke the news about the Iron Man.

She can’t complain, some subjects are fun and she advances very fast, if she were in a school, she wouldn't be able to do it. In addition to the private lessons she has some with Happy, she appreciates that too. It's fun to see Happy struggling to learn the subjects with her.

"Hey, Lily. You have to see this,” Jess says from the living room. Lily returns and this time sits on the couch to see her father in the Senate or the military committee. Obviously, television doesn't show everything, but enough to see that her father just makes fun of everyone, especially that businessman Justin Hammer.

"Very cocky.”

Both girls nod.

***

"And I also learned about worldwar-two, but Professor Edwards said it would take us longer to do our research because there is so much information," Lily informs walking next to Pepper.

"I'm glad you're enjoying your classes, honey," She says with a smile, but then sneezes.

"Are you sure you shouldn't be resting?" The worried girl asks.

"I'm fine, don’t worry.”

They both go down the stairs until they reach Tony's workshop. Pepper puts the combination and they enter. Lily, seeing Tony for the first time in a few weeks, runs towards him. Tony gets up from the chair and receives her with a hug, bending down to her height.

"You should also greet me this way, Pepper," Tony teases. Pepper rolls her eyes, but she can't help a smile at the cute image.

"Why didn't you wake me up when you arrived?" Lily asks as they part. She crosses her arms.

"I could hear your snoring outside,” He jokes. “No nightmares?"

"Didn’t have any this week.”

“Good, and enough waiting for me on the couch, last time you complained about back pain. Those complaints are not allowed until you’re fifty years old... or thirty, it depends,” He nods, ruffling the girl's hair making her laugh.

The moment ends when Pepper remembers why she was upset with Tony. Now they both walk around the workshop discussing things. Lily listens to them as she sits in the chair where Tony was. She frowns when she sees a brown box, but Pepper's comment distracts her.

"The Expo is a gigantic waste of time.”

“There’s nothing more important to me than the Expo,” answers Tony. “It’s my primary point of concern.”

"Hey!" Lily complains. “What about me? I’m your daughter! And you haven't taken me to Stark Expo yet, so unfair…” She says with a pout.

"What?" Tony says from the other side. “I'm sorry, kid. Grown ups talking here!" He answers by pretending not to have heard her.

Lily makes a face.

"The Expo is your ego gone crazy,” follows Pepper.

Lily stopped listening. Photos of boring cars on Tony's computers are more interesting than Pepper scolding her father. She only lifts her head when they return to the entrance. Tony trades a painting for an Iron Man painting. Then, suddenly, Tony appoints Pepper CEO of Stark Industries.

"Trying to figure out who a worthy successor would be,” says Tony over a few glasses of champagne, "and then I realized, well since she's only eight, she can't run a company,” He points out to the girl.

"Yet!" She yells from her place.

"It’s you. It's always been you.”

***

"I think I'm ready for that training," says Lily pulling the ropes of the ring in the middle of the room.

"Not yet, Smarty," Happy replies.

"But I'm eight now and I can outrun you.”

"Anyone can outrun Happy, kid," adds Tony.

"So why did you tell me to come if you won't let me train?"

“Watch us and learn.”

Lily makes a face. She’s getting tired of everyone forbidding her so many things.

It doesn't take long for Pepper to walk in asking Tony for a signature. Lily walks over to the white chair near Pepper. She sighs, she's about to complain to her, but the presence of another redhead interrupts her. She had never seen that woman and apparently she also distracts the two men.

"What’s your name, lady?" Tony asks

"Rushman. Natalie Rushman,” She introduces herself.

“Hi," greets Lily. Natalie looks at her with a smile.

"Wait, I thought no one should know about Stark Jr.'s existence,” Tony points out.

“She’s already signed a confidentiality contract. Don’t worry.”

Tony shrugs and invites Natalie into the ring. She obeys. Pepper sits on the couch next to Lily and Tony pulls her aside to sit on the same couch.

"Now she’ll be your assistant?" Lily asks. Pepper nods. “Wow, you used to be Tony's assistant, now you have one. I wish I had one,” She says.

"I want one of those too," says Tony. And with that, they argue again. Lily rolls her eyes, but something else interrupts her thoughts and the discussion.

Apparently Natalie is more than capable and better trained than Happy since she manages to throw him to the floor in one movement. The three of them get up from the couch.

"Happy," Pepper squeals.

Lily goes back up to the edge of the ring and smiles seeing how Happy gets up with difficulty. She raises her head to see Natalie.

"Cool! Can you teach me to do that?"

“Sure."

"Definitely not," Pepper and Nat say at the same time.

"Why not?" Lily frowns and steps out of the ring

The second redhead clears her throat, she puts on her shoes and talks to Tony about some documents. In the end, they finally finish the paperwork for Pepper to become CEO. Natalie leaves. Tony and Pepper start talking about a trip to Monaco.

"What? Are you going to travel again? You just arrived,” The girl complains, drawing their attention.

“It'll only be a couple of days, Lily," replies Pepper.

"That's what you always say.”

“Hey." says Tony. "It's a business trip, kid.”

"That too you always say,” She rolls her eyes. Pepper looks surprised, that's not how she used to act before. "Can I go this time? I can do my homework there.”

“Sorry, but no. Remember that you’re still a ghost." says Tony

She frowns.

"That's not fair. You always leave me here, I can't even go to a park and you don't let me accompany you, you’re hardly home anymore,” She says, raising her voice and causing a certain tingling to appear in her hands.

"Watch your tone, Lily,” says Tony starting to get annoyed. He looks down at the girl's clenched hands. "Turn that off, now.”

"Just this once, I promise to be good. If you want, I'll stay at the hotel,” She insists with a frustrated sigh. She opens her hands to avoid making a mess.

"I said no, young lady.”

"But-"

"Lily Stark, I said no,” Tony ends with a firm voice.

The little girl clenches her teeth and runs out of the place before they can see her cry from anger.

"Huh, it brought out your moody side too, Tony," Happy says from across the room.

Stark sighs.

"I'll talk to her when we get back.”

Pepper feels guilty. Maybe they’d been more absent since Tony announced the identity of Iron Man and now it’ll be worse because of the new job. She wants to follow her, but she knows better to leave her alone for a moment.

***

"Hey, you broke your record," Jess says, handing a bottle to the girl, who gasps. She takes it and sits on the chair next to the girl.

It's been a couple of hours since Lily started running through the gated area of the Stark property.

"Can we do something else?" Lily asks.

Jess takes out the notebook where the itinerary is written.

"I suppose we can rest for a while," Jess replies, taking off her sunglasses.

"You didn't do anything, what are you going to rest from?" Lily says with a smile.

"I can't be in the sun that long, I want to be tanned, not burned.”

"If you say so.”

After the break, Lily continued with her task, finishing earlier that she is used to. The rest of the day, they both decided to just relax with some masks that Jess had brought.

"Why do they smell funny?" Lily asks feeling the texture of her mask.

"That's coconut, you'll get used to it,” answers Jess. “Afterwards we’ll paint our nails, we’ll watch romantic movies while we eat ice cream. It’ll be fun.”

"Why are we doing this?"

"It's what some girls are used to doing when they are alone or with their friends.”

Lily nods. "Why?"

Jess laughs. At this point she’s already used to the onslaught of questions that she sometimes receives.

“It's fun, it's also girls quality time, you know, they talk about handsome people, the boys they like from school. It’s a distraction that sometimes we need, even from parents.”

Lily frowns.

"Do you need a distraction from your parents?"

“Okay,” Jess gets comfortable on the bed to sit in front of the girl. “Many times, especially when you’re a teenager, you argue with your parents and it’s normal. That’s why it’s good to have friends with whom you can vent. Trust me, if I didn't have my friends, my relationship with my mother would be a disaster. But it's not a bad thing,” She clarifies when she sees Lily's grimace. "Parents also need to get away from their children a bit.”

"Is that why Tony travels a lot?"

"I don’t think so. He’s an important businessman and he just wants to take care of you, that's why you should stay here.”

"It's not fair,” She crosses her arms.

“Yes, you should get used to that too. When you’re older it’ll be a little easier.”

Lily's head fills with more questions.

“Jess."

"Yeah?"

“We're friends?”

"Of course.”

"Can I vent to you about my dad?" Jess laughs.

"Tell me everything.”

They both talk about many things and do girlish stuff. Lily learns a few things as Jess tells her about her life as a student and everything she does when she’s not taking care of her. At one point, she wishes she had that life, but, even if she could go to normal school, she couldn't have all of that, at least not like Jess.

Night comes, Jess sleeps in the guest room leaving Lily in her room. The great Stark mansion is completely silent, the nightmares that had not tormented the girl for several months return and this time, they’re worse.

She’s on the floor of an empty room, the four walls are completely white. She doesn't see anyone else, but she knows someone is watching her. She wants to ask for help, she wants to scream, but no matter how much she opens her mouth, nothing comes out of her. Her torso and arms are trapped with a straitjacket. She tries to get out of it, but everything is useless.

The tickling starts in her hands, but this time she’s not in control and quickly spreads throughout her body. She wants to burn the straitjacket, but in the dream it’s not possible.

"Lily!"

The girl suddenly wakes up sitting on the mattress. She looks everywhere, but her mind is still in that empty room. She falls off her bed, but keeps moving until a wall stops her.

“Lily, it's okay! Quiet! You have to breathe…” Jess says in the dark.

“Don't!" screams Lily. Her chest rises and falls rapidly. "Please don't hurt me!” She sobs. “Please, please…”

"Lily, it's me!” The girl approaches the girl and touches her arm, but she removes it immediately when she feels the high temperature. Jess screams in fright, causing Lily to jump in place of her. "J.A.R.V.I.S, turn on the lights!” She orders and the AI obeys.

Lily blinks trying to focus her vision, when it happens, what she sees is another fear: Jess is in front of her looking at the blisters on her hand.

She had done that. Lily burned Jess.

Memories of when this happened with her mother come to her mind, causing her panic to escalate.

She doesn't hesitate twice to leave the room, ignoring Jessica's calls. She runs through the house, down the stairs and to the workshop. J.A.R.V.I.S lets her in and sets the code so that no one else could enter. Finally, Lily goes to one of Tony's cars and hides underneath it. She bends her legs and hugs them to her chest. The only thing that can be heard in the workshop are the uncontrollable sobs of the girl.

Taglist

If your username is crossed out it’s because Tumblr didn’t let me tag you, sorry. If you want to be removed from the taglist, you can tell us, we also make mistakes, lol

@stardusthigh​   @silenthappyplace​ @yourbonesareinmybody​​  @aylauwuuniverse @tyb1​ @skittles-skittles​ @hufflepuffzutara​​   @poetryislife0715 @21bruhs​​  

@just-here-to-escape-from-reality​​

@heavenlymistakes @lauramacch​  @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual

#Iron #peter parker fanfiction #Peter Parker #Peter Parker x Oc #Peter Parker x reader #Avengers #Avengers fanfic #Marvel #Marvel fanfic #Tony Stark #Lily Stark #Star! reader #Pepper Potts #James Rhodes #Iron Man 2 #Spider man #Iron man

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

Alas, Poor Geralt

Inspired by this post by @flyingshy

I did 23 productions in high school and spent two summers at a ‘prestigious’ (expensive but overall average) Shakespeare acting camp so theatre is MY SHIT.

---

“What the fuck do you mean we don’t have any more blue gels!?” Geralt groaned, running his hand over his face. The long-suffering head tech for the lighting department was more than exhausted. Tech week had been a disaster (which in theatre tradition promised a good opening night) and it was slowly pushing him into an early grave.

“We’re out of blue gels. We only have red and yellow left in storage,” Lambert explained. “I can order more.”

“Do it before you leave today or they won’t get here in time for the first show,” Geralt requested. “Thanks, Lambert.”

“You got it, boss.”

---

“The trouble with schools is They always try to teach the wrong lesson. Believe me, I've been kicked out Of enough of them to know!”

The kid playing Fiyero in this particular touring production had a great set of pipes. Geralt wasn’t above admitting that to anyone except Jaskier himself. Whenever the energetic young actor came bouncing up to the light booth to see if anyone wanted a coffee, Geralt seemed to shut right down. 

It wasn’t a crush. It wasn’t.

Now though, from the safety of his boothy domain, Geralt could observe comfortably as Jaskier sang his heart out and danced along with Ciri. The company had been extremely lucky to book the slender blonde prodigy, who was lending her voice to the role of Galinda for two whole seasons. Yennefer, one of his best friends in the industry and a powerful alto, was playing the pseudo-titular role of Elphaba. 

“They want you to become less callow, less shallow; But I say why invite stress in? Stop studying strife And learn to live the unexamined life...”

He swung around a lamp-post and landed gracefully. He jigged around Galinda like he had a thousand times before, looking adorable in a pair of grey joggers and a bright pink t-shirt that read “The King and I is problematic” across the front in plain black font.  “Dancing through life, skimming the surface, Gliding where turf is smooth... Life's more painless for the brainless. Why think too hard when it's so soothing?”

Geralt followed his own cues just as faithfully, turning the stage from white to green to yellow and then back to green for the scenes at the Ozdust. This show was elaborate and complicated; his favorite kind. It was a challenge and life was boring without challenges. 

The song continued on as normal until one particular line, when Jaskier looked straight into the lighting booth and winked: “Life is fraught-less when you're thoughtless; those who don't try never look foolish.”

The teasing brunette held his hand up to his ear in mimicry of a phone before turning back to the stage and resuming his choreography as normal. He’d certainly hear about it from the director later, but for now Geralt tried to focus on keeping with his cues as his heart hammered erratically in his chest.

Okay. Maybe it was more than a crush.

#geraskier aus anyone? #geraskier theatre au #light booth au #geraskier ficlet #geraskier theatre ficlet #wicked #dancing through life is jaskier's fuckin jam #geraskier fic #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #i am a theatre gay and this is my domain #this was so much fun

[scribble-blog]

Soulmate AU part 3!!

First • Previous • Here • Next

Side note, I’m a grandma in a 22 year old body who doesn’t understand technology. If somebody can teach me how to get readmores to work on tumblr mobile, and possibly how to start linking the posts together, I’d appreciate it!

Also, the taglist is now full! Though if people want, I could try doing a supplemental taglist? Either in a reblogged or in a separate post to notify you? Let me know in the replies!

Damian Wayne, as it turns out, is almost very certainly the son of Bruce Wayne, who sponsored their entire trip to Gotham. There are only two official pictures of him that are clear enough to truly check against, but Marinette sees the eyes and she nods. “That’s him.”

Trixx, Pollen, Kaalki, and Plagg are scattered about the bed, napping and lounging. Adrien also lounges, catlike and crosswise with the bed, entirely over the pillows at their back. Chloé holds the laptop that Marinette is hovering over, even from her seated position with her much smaller stature.

“It would be you,” Chloé snorts. “Oh, let’s just traipse over to America for a quick class visit! Oops, my soulmate is the incredibly handsome son of the incredibly wealthy man who invited us here!”

“Still more believable than you, Miss ‘My soulmate and I have literally been standing two feet from each other for weeks because not only do we have the exact same friends, but we’re part of the same superhero group and never realized until Ladybug allowed us to learn each other’s secret identities.’” Adrien doesn’t move as he calls her out, lazily curled into the warmth of his two friends and the pillows cocooning him.

“I don’t think any of us can speak,” Marinette groans. “I’m living a cheap rom com, Chloé’s got all the plot elements of a high budget Shakespearian drama, and Mr. ‘Didn’t know I wasn’t straight until my soulmate mark was a guys name” is straight out of a b movie comedy.”

“At least I got my act together pretty quickly once it occurred to me that I could like guys too,” Adrien points out. “And now Jon and I talk all the time, and he even comes to Paris sometimes to see me, or we’ll meet up for my occasional business trips in America. Which reminds me,” he pulled out his phone, sending off a quick text, “he wants to come meet you guys. Next week, while we’re all actually on the same continent.”

“Kudos to you for shaking off whatever Gabe tried to stuff your head full of,” Chloé says. “Took me ages to admit that I was gay, and that was even WITH my soulmark and both Marinette and Ladybug constantly in front of me.”

“Feeling pretty objectified,” Marinette protests.

“Oh shut it, I know for a fact that you’ve basically been the gay awakening crush of every not straight girl in our class. And several outside of it. And that’s not even counting all the dudes that fall in love with you.”

“I still object,” Marinette pouts at Chloé.

“Objection overruled.” Adrien sits up. “Marinette. You’re like, the perfect crush. They have a warning about you in the introductory packet for Mme. Bustier’s class.”

“They do not,” Marinette gasps, outraged. “I wrote that packet!”

“And then the class unanimously decided you were too dangerous to be walking around without a warning sign,” Chloé pinched her cheek. “If it makes you feel any better, it’s still in the packet despite Lila’s best efforts to get it thrown out.”

That does make Marinette feel better.

“Damian Wayne resurfaces after year of being believed dead,” Adrien reads from his phone. “Gotham’s Newest Wayne: The True Son! These all read like tabloids but as far as I can tell the Wayne’s don’t tolerate stuff like that. So I guess it’s true?”

“I’m tired of looking him up,” Marinette groans. “Can we just leave it be?”

“Nope,” Chloé pops the P. “Congrats, Dupain-Cheng, this is what friends are for.”

“I wish I could talk to Tikki about it,” Marinette sighs. “Especially because I have literally never heard anyone talk about that- electric feeling when we touched. Is it a Ladybug thing?”

Plagg opens one big green eye. “Cool it, Spots. It’s definitely a Ladybug thing. You’re literally the reason these marks exist.”

Marinette sticks her tongue out at the mini god. “I just miss her.”

“Join the club,” he grumbles, closing his eye and going back to napping.

“Good news,” Chloé says, bringing her attention back to the laptop. “Searching your name very easily leads to you, and our class, and the fact that we won the contest. So, unless he decides he’s not ready to meet you, you’ll have the chance to find him at the gala. Or at Wayne Enterprises. Or at any of the places the Wayne’s own, which is two-thirds of our trip destinations.”

“Oh god,” Marinette says. “What if he didn’t want to find me?”

Adrien, Chloé, and four Kwamis hit her at the same time, shoving her back into the bed.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mari,” Adrien scolds her from his position atop the newly formed cuddle pile. “I saw his face too. If the boy isn’t already in love with you, he’ll be hunting you down just for the chance to fall.”

Trixx nuzzled into her side. “I may not be Tikki but all of us Kwamis know how incredible you are, Marinette.”

She sighed. “Alright guys, get off.”

———

Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Tim already knew who the girl was, because he’d been curious when his favorite artist had started talking about the source of his newest looks.

But having Damian demand his help in searching for everything he could find on her, and then only asking for the bare minimum of information about her trip itinerary- Tim wasn’t an idiot.

“So. She’s your soulmate.” Tim takes a sip of the coffee he’d been working on, making a face and instantly setting it back down when he realized it had gone cold.

Damian carefully did not change his expression, but it wasn’t fooling anyone. “And so what if she is?”

Tim looked back at the monitor. “So nothing. Congrats, Demon Spawn. I’m happy for you.”

He barely caught the edge of the scowl the younger Wayne tried to hide.

“Hey, no.” Tim spun his chair to face Damian. “Look, we’ve had our differences and disagreements-“

“You had me on the superhero equivalent of a terrorism watch list,” Damian interrupted.

“And you literally tried to kill me within the first day of meeting me.”

“A byproduct of my indoctrination from birth into a murder cult,” His brother kept his face still but the tone was wry.

“You kept trying to kill me.”

“I wasn’t trying to kill you!” Damian finally exclaimed, losing his collected demeanor. “Just-“

“Point being,” Tim stressed, “even if we haven’t always gotten along- haven’t ever, really- I’m still happy for you. Soulmates are a special thing. We all kind of thought you might not have one, with the way you always acted when Dick tried to ask.”

Damian forced down the immediate retort and looked at Tim. “I thought that maybe my dying would have prevented my name from showing up for them. And my teachings-“ he said the word with the inflection that meant he was discussing Assassin Upbringing rather than here- “were as such that most connections, be they familial, friendly, or romantic, were- unnecessary and even dangerous.” It felt tantamount to a betrayal of his younger self to confide anything in Drake like this, but... Damian really was, in many ways, a better and more mature person than the spoiled, aggressive, near sociopathic brat he’d arrived as seven years ago. He still kept the veneer of it up, but he was no longer the boy who needed to fight Drake to prove his worth as Bruce’s son.

Now he just waited for Drake to embarrass himself by passing out after staying up for far too long surviving on caffeine and energy drinks. Much easier.

And Drake didn’t ever seem as eager to blackmail and fight as Damian ever had, so he figured a small amount of vulnerability was a proper thank you for his discretion in finding Marinette.

Tim just took another grimacing sip of the cold coffee. “Man. In that case, even happier for you that you’re shrugging off yet another of the Child Assassin School’s upsetting and frankly terrible rules. Though as for the dying thing, I’m pretty sure it doesn’t matter as long as you don’t actively die now that you have the mark.”

Damian shrugged. “Irrelevant now, as I will not be dying anytime soon, and neither will she. And she clearly knows that we’re soulmates.”

“Still confused about that,” Tim frowned, looking back at him. “You said there was an electric current between you? Or it felt like that?”

Damian couldn’t stop his hand from twitching, the memory of it clear enough to feel. “Yes. I don’t understand it myself either.”

“I’ll search around. See if anything comes up.” Tim handed him a pile of papers. “Here, the info you wanted on her itinerary, plus things I thought would be pertinent without going over whatever line you seem to have drawn.”

Damian took them, and very begrudgingly said, “Thank you,” before ducking out of the room.

He waited until he was back in his own room before flicking through them, finding the trip schedule and the hotel rooms listed, the names of her class and teachers, and finally a list of her accomplishments and a copy of the paper that had won her class the trip, authored by her.

He read through it, noting the names of her classmates and their own community efforts, and the way her own section in the paper was minuscule compared to both each other persons section and the list of accomplishments Drake had drafted.

One classmate had, if no less written than than any other person, a distinctly different tone to what Marinette had written, and most of her community building and service events were merely echoes or assisting what another person had done. Damian shrugged it off, as there were sometimes people who simply tagged along, and never put their own effort out there. Followers, and not leaders.

All in all, he found himself more intrigued than ever about her.

TAGLIST:

@the-fusionist @rebecarojas07 @lowandco @kotaleartzu @resignedcatservant @alenee13 @mystery-5-5 @ladybug-182 @actual-disaster-human @loysydark @rumbelle18 @magic-miraculous @vixen-uchiha @athena452 @mochegato @ash-amg @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @thestressmademedoit @sassakitty @doriebell @jessigurl-design @emotionalsupportginger @kceedraws @kuroko26 @moonystars14 @toodaloo-kangaroo @myazael @theatreandcomicfreak @mer-mel @dahjokester @northernbluetongue @area51qt @renscorpio @redscarlet95 @razzledazzle247 @rosep16 @tired-butterfly @catthhay @shamefullove @imanerddealwith @chaosace @captainmac6 @bigpicklebananatree @abrx2002 @cici-schnee @multplelifes @shreky-boi @purple-people-eaters-productions @crazylittlemunchkin @weird-pale-blonde-person

#maribat #daminette #daminette soulmates #soulmate au #fanfic