#this is what I meant when I said I was cooking

[meichenxi]

languages, travel, identity, grief

Maybe some of you have heard of Xu Zhimo's Second Farewell to Cambridge (徐志摩 再別康橋 Translation: Saying Goodbye to Cambridge Again, by Xu Zhimo | East Asia Student). It's an achingly lovely poem about a Chinese scholar who studied in the UK, and how he left so gently, taking nothing with him as he went. It brought me solace over the last year.

I thought for a very long time about how I felt about having to leave China, and what it felt like to mourn for a future that was never going to mine. I cried. How am I supposed to explain why? I'm not Chinese. I've got no family there, or a childhood to look back on. I couldn't explain it even to myself.

That pain was coupled with a type of uncertainty, a discomfort at myself for feeling so strongly. This feeling was not allowed. It meant - what? Something awful, probably. I was a racist, probably. I should hate myself, probably. Fetishization is the word that gets thrown around for white people and their time spent in East Asia at one end of the spectrum - at the other end it's just seen as embarrassing and deeply, you know, cringe. It's a self-interrogation - why do I feel so sad? Why do I feel this pull so strongly anyway, to a country that's not even mine? Why should it matter so much when I leave? I didn't feel like this grief has any sort of legitimacy. But it has taken from September - eight months after leaving - for me to pick up Chinese again.

I felt, for months, hollow and unsettled and drifting from place to place. I opened my textbook, and closed it again. The memories there were too painful. I'm not going to write about why I had to leave, but it wasn't by choice. I had loved the people in the school, even if it was for a short time. When you have no internet and are training eight hours a day, the days are coloured more sharply: bright and hurtful and wonderful all at once. We had no running water. It was in an abandoned hotel. I miss the monk at the temple door opposite the school, always on time at 6am to open it for our classes. I miss the folk at the local shop who invited me to watch films on their projector; once they killed a chicken for us. I miss the woman in the woods who gave me the chestnuts she had picked. I gave the chestnuts to the cook, and we steamed them and ate them by the lake. He wanted me to marry his son; he wanted it so strongly that he brought me pork, and desserts, and gave me paper, and promised me I could have a jade bracelet, that he would buy me a house. I miss the oldest martial arts teacher, who spoke in such strong dialect I could barely understand him. When I was sad and missing home one night, he told me that I should stay after dinner. In the silence and against the cicadas, he started to play the erhu for me. Later, my friend told me that he hadn't know what to say, how to comfort me; I was a foreigner and a young woman, after all. We had very little in common. But nobody has ever played a piece of music for me like that before.

And I miss X, my best friend there and partner in snack-smuggling crime. She is 19 years old, and a janitor's daughter, and one of the wisest people I have ever met. (She also rides an excellent motorbike, and lent me her hanfu, and we sped through the city giddy with our own daring and trying not to be caught.) We got matching haircuts; she had always wanted to cut her hair like a boy, and was too scared to do it alone. When I left, I told her to stay in touch: she shook her head. She said that some people were meant to know each other for some time, and no more. I think the death of friendship by attrition, by - as Elrond said! - the slow decay of time, is one of the saddest things of all. I deleted Wechat. I don't want to read over the old messages. By having this place - her, and the chestnuts, and the cicadas - as a memory, I can tuck it away it. I can keep it close.

I wrote a poem myself on the plane. That was the last I thought about China, the last thought I let myself have, in eight months. I kept myself away from it. It felt like a wound. And against that hollowness, there was constantly the question: Why should I have any right to miss this place? Who I am there? Why does it matter? We are all different people, wherever we go, and whoever we are with; we wear different skins, large or small. In China I was [...]. She was who I was. That name, that I introduced myself to people with - she was bright and friendly and tried to translate things just so. Everybody who goes as the only foreigner to a place - or the only foreigner that speaks the language - is a little bit self-obsessed. It happens. It's unfortunate, and something to guard against. But it also gives you its own kind of identity in a way: your identity is Foreigner. Your identity is a cultural bridge. Everyone you meet, in a country as friendly and curious as China, has questions about you. You stand with your feet in both worlds, and are not really part of either of them. That identity is easy to slip into, like cool water, like trying on new clothes. It's easier that thinking: who am I outside of that? Where am I going? I don't really know. I don't think anyone really does.

And then the second thing happens. I speak Chinese well, by this point. My accent is there, but it's slight. I am short, and have dark hair, and a generally similar build to many East Asians - so the questions I have got in the last few years have changed. Sometimes people think I have been raised here. Sometimes they think I am ethnically Russian, and nationally Chinese. Sometimes I get asked if I am half Chinese. Usually they know I am a Foreigner, 100% white - but not always. There is a peculiar rush that comes from that acceptance; from feeling the relief, just for fifteen minutes, that you belong. It's not about 'passing', or race-bending, or anything twisted - it's nothing so unnerving as that. It's just the human need to belong. Everyone gets tired of being stared at, after a while. And after a while, you start to think - I wish I understood. I wish they understood. I wish this were easy.

But then the conversation keeps going. You don't know a local word, or you misunderstand. You say something in a strange way, or you make a strange gesture, and the glass shatters, and - there you are again, naked again, exhausted again, explaining yourself again. That's the other half of it. There's solace in the Foreigner identity, because that means that's all you are. You don't have to think about your parents, or whether they worry about you so far from home; of course they do. The Foreigner is good and filial and a wonderful daughter. You can craft her into any shape you like. But it also marks you out again and again, endlessly and again, as Other.

There was a paper published a while ago that showed measures of acceptance of non-natives in native-speaking communities. It highlights a strange, but familiar experience to those who have lived abroad - the people who spoke the language to a medium level felt more accepted and less lonely than those that spoke the language to a high degree. It makes sense, and mirrors what I have found with both Chinese and German. When you speak a little Chinese, you are a wonder - a curiousity! Look at the Western girl go! People are kind, and curious, and will slow down to include you in conversations. You are thrilled with what you can access - all this knowledge, that other people don't have! Look how special you are!

And then you get better. And then you realise, cut by cut, that you will never be one of them. You don't want to be Chinese, per se; but you do want to be accepted. You are happy to be British; but you miss China like a wound, an old one, festering, even when it was never yours. How do you tell your family that you are not grieving a lost romance, a beautiful girl, but a language and a life? That there are words of majesty, of playfulness, that will never be yours? You speak well enough that people no longer bother to dumb things down, or explain them; you sit with your discomfort, smile painted on, because - you know. It's not bad. You understand most of it. And on the edge of that circle, smiling uncertainly, following the vast majority of what is being said, you are not clever enough and not witty enough to keep up with the chengyu, the cultural references, the slang, and the raucous laughter around you erupts, and you don't know what you've missed, and everybody says - she's quiet, that one. Maybe all the foreigners are? And all you are doing is sitting and feeling the distance between You and Them as heavy and as stifled in your chest as an ocean of dark.

So you go back. Back to your people. But when you sit with the other foreigners, you are apart. They laugh; what are these nutters doing? The Chinese don't make any sense. The Chinese do this - they do that. You sit there, and then there is a pressure building in your chest too, a discomfort, the desire to stand up and say - well, actually.

You are responsible for everything the Chinese teachers do, and have to explain things in a way that the students understand - Confucian thought, and Buddhist philosophy, translated in pithy bite-size adages for the West. You have no qualifications for this; everything you assert, you feel unsure. Uncertain. Someone else could explain it better, more nuanced, and you need to do more reading anyway - but here you are, and here they are, and you're the only one. And you do know. Not enough, but enough that their jokes, their pains, make you uncomfortable. You feel the need to defend both parties; to be a diplomat, every second of every day. In turn, when the students come to the teachers with problems, you have to translate their grievances in a way that the Chinese teachers will be sympathetic towards. Once I got asked: why do you never join us after class? Why are you always so quiet when you're not working? As a translator, you are always working. Every time you speak, you are working; what you choose to say, and what you choose to not say, and where you choose to intervene. You are building relationships, and disappearing, and you are becoming invisible, and you're a nothing, and you're everyone and you're nobody and nobody realises you are doing anything more than translating at all.

I wanted to stay. I couldn't have stayed. I wanted to be accepted as one of them. I wanted to be accepted for who I was. That means a foreigner. I wanted to be true to myself, which means that I would always be the Foreigner, which means I would always be apart from them. It is that contrast and juxtaposition which causes the grief. And there was never an ending to it, a resolution, a chance to reconcile myself (in China) with myself (in the UK), because all at once I had to leave. The grief comes most from the second arrow - not the pain of leaving, but the bewilderment of not knowing why I was in pain at all.

It's been eight months. Slowly, as spring comes, I feel like I am on surer ground. I can look at my old books, those painstaking notes, and I could look at new ones too and I'm starting to think, because this is what I tell my students, and maybe there's some truth in it - it's okay if you're not perfect. It's okay if you didn't achieve what you wanted to, and that the language - in its wholeness, and who can ever know that? - will never, not quite, be yours. It's the struggle and the process that means that I will know and understand Chinese in a different way, in my own way, in a slanted-to-reality sort of way, that is a treasure in and of itself. There is beauty in its brokenness too.

And there is sorrow, too. The sorrow that comes with easing yourself into a different life, and it holding you gently for a while. I sat there - I spoke to them. It's not only missing a place; it's missing a person you were, a stage of your life, for a time. It's knowing that a place has reached inside your ribs and taken root there - even if you don't return, you can never fully get rid of that again. You are two people now, with feet straddling two oceans. There are parts of you that loved and suffered and hated and grew in Chinese, not English. You can't explain that. You can't even begin. Sometimes - not often - you are a stranger in your own land. The poets spoke of that. In the age of fast travel, of the weekend break, we have forgotten the ways a place can burrow itself inside you, and find its own home.

It's not the same as the grief that someone Chinese will face. But it's still grief. I have put my life into Chinese. Maybe that is all it takes to grow love.

Now, I turn back to Chinese - as a foreigner, as Melissa, as myself. It's a bittersweet thing. I know that I cannot hold all of it. It will spill out, like the sun, and there is no way I can be that without losing myself and my history and my own green woods. But I think I am ready now. I am surer, and a little steadier on my feet.

#langblr #chinese #languages #culture #china #:(((((((((((

[marvuders]

"No swearing, Mooney!" — Wolfstar

warnings: heavy food mentions word count: 3,187 characters/era: sirius black, remus lupin, baby!harry potter, mention of other marauders. au where james & lily lived.  summary: Remus is tasked with cooking breakfast for himself, his boyfriend, Sirius and their friend's baby Harry. It doesn't go quite well at first, but everything works out in the end.

-

Remus quickly glanced over his shoulder, but he couldn’t help but stop and take in the moment. His boyfriend, Sirius, was jumping around their lounge room with the largest smile on his face, his hair bouncing around with him, his baby hairs starting to stick to his forehead that was quickly becoming sweaty. Their friend’s toddler, Harry, was just as excited as Sirius was. He couldn’t call it jumping, but Harry was bouncing with Sirius’ movements, laughing as they went.

It was such a sweet moment, he wished that he had his camera nearby. Muggle cameras couldn’t do justice to this moment. It was small moments like these that made Remus fall in love with Sirius all over again.

The coldness in his hand quickly reminded him what he was actually meant to be doing, Remus caught the short end of the stick this morning and was meant to be cooking breakfast for all three. He placed the milk down on the counter, rubbing his hands together as he looked at the messy counter in front of him and the recipe he didn’t quite understand. Remus never really understood the appeal of cooking, he couldn’t do it, he didn’t enjoy it and he certainly didn’t enjoy the clean up afterwards either. His mother always said that he’d have to find a partner who could cook, or to learn how to quickly. Well, jokes on her, because he did find someone who is actually good at cooking. Which made him wonder why Sirius wasn’t cooking and playing with the baby instead.

But hearing the endless laughter of Sirius and Harry made his forthcoming battle with food a bit easier to handle. He brought the recipe to the front of the counter, skimming over the words that presented themselves as jargon.

“Okay… so that much milk,” Remus whispered to himself, “I need containers right? Right.” He flung open the cupboard door, picking one of the measuring jugs and a small bowl from the thousand of plastic containers. He measured the milk, it wasn’t exact but that’s for only him to know, then added it to his ‘mixing bowl.’ Sirius said he needed that.

“Crack two eggs into a separate bowl,” He continued reading, his eyebrows furrowing with each line. Remus got another bowl out and the eggs. Well, turns out he is worse at cracking eggs than he is cooking in general. First attempt, he hit the egg against the bowl too hard and it shattered everywhere. Second attempt saw half the shell go into the bowl. Third attempt was quite alike the first. This when he started to get frustrated.

“Bloody shit!” Remus said, upon the forth egg falling out of his hands and breaking before he could even get it near the bowl. He took a breath and stood there, with the shattered egg in front of him on the floor.

“Okay, what the actual fu-”

“HEY!”

Remus turned to find Sirius standing in the lounge room, with his hands dramatically sitting on his hips. His long black hair sitting in front of his face, certain parts sticking up from where no doubt Harry had messed it up. The toddler was sitting on the couch, thumb in mouth, excitedly looking between himself and Sirius.

“Don’t you dare swear in front of the baby!” Sirius dramatically exclaimed, tilting his head slightly as he huffed and puffed, the corner of his mouth fighting off a smile. “Lily will kill me if we give Harry back swearing and cursing, Lupin!”

Remus lifted his hands up to his chest, displaying his open palm to Sirius, proclaiming his ‘innocence.’ Sirius slowly started to smile and let out a chuckle, lowering his hands from his hips as he lowered himself next to Harry. Remus found himself smiling, feeling a bit calmer than he was a minute ago.

“No swearing, Moony,” Sirius pointed his finger in Remus’ direction. “Sorry mum,” He replied, quickly flashing a wink at his boyfriend, who had already gone back to play with Harry. The short bust of silence did not last long.

Remus grabbed a few paper towels from the roll, bending down to wipe the shattered egg off the floor, then the ones on the counter. He didn’t figure there was a point in trying to save any, they could always buy more. So all failed attempts went into the bin. After some quick cleaning, he grabbed a few more eggs out of the fridge. Remus was just about to pick up the first one, to crack against the bowl when two arms wrapped around his waist from behind and he felt Sirius pressed up against him, resting his chin on Remus’ shoulder. He could sense that he was smiling, no doubt already thinking of an insult about his egg-cracking skills. Sirius and James had made immense fun of Remus in the past about how he couldn’t cook.

“You’re putting too much pressure on them,” Sirius softly said. He proceeded to wrap his hands around Remus’, guiding them as they softly cracked the egg against the bowl, and further cracked it open to let the insides fall into the bowl. Sirius had to lean around Remus to peer into the bowl, he wasn’t quite tall enough to see over his shoulder. Of course, this time there wasn’t any shell within the bowl. Remus smiled, as Sirius quickly grabbed the other egg and cracked it into the bowl, another perfect crack.

“You can’t live without me, babe,” Sirius cockily said, as he withdrew his arms, smacking Remus on the arse as he laughed and walked back to Harry. Remus shook his head and smiled, he knew the cocky remark was coming, sooner or later.

With two eggs perfectly cracked, he looked back to the recipe, moving through the steps and attempting to clean as he went. Sirius taught him it was best to clean whilst you cook, although he never understood exactly why. He had the stovetop on, the grease in pan and bread in the egg-milk mixture. So far so good. Remus moved two pieces of bread into the pan, and luckily they didn’t stick.

A few minutes later, and it was time to flip the bread. Remus caught himself holding his breath, everything had gone good so far— other than the eggs of course, but flipping was the crucial part. Remus chucked the utensil down on the counter with a heavy thud, taking a heavy breath. Both pieces of bread were burnt. He chucked the temperature down a notch, running his hands through his hair. Remus felt rather frustrated and annoyed. Any other baby-less day, he would’ve been thinking out loud and swears would take up most of his dialogue. And he probably would’ve tried to bribe James or Sirius to step in and do it for him. Everyone knew Remus and cooking didn’t exactly mix. But himself and Sirius had been trusted to babysit, and a part of that was supplying a meal, and not cursing. He took another deep breath and continued to wait and cook the bread. Wait and flip, wait and flip, try not to curse, wait and flip.

“Okay, I’m fucking done! Why is it so fucking hard?” Remus yelled, chucking the burnt bread into the bin and turning off the stovetop. “It’s just fucking bread? Fucking bastards of things.”

He continued to chuck things all over the kitchen, the utensil just made it into the sink, the bowls got shoved to the side, making loud noises as they went. It wasn’t long before everything was even more of a mess than it was before, and Remus just stood there in the kitchen, his chest heaving up and down as he took heavy breaths. He lifted his hands up, burying his face in them.

“Hey,” Sirius whispered, slowly walking over to the kitchen with Harry lifted and sitting on his hip. “Moony, hey, babe?”

Remus lowered his hands, turning to face Sirius. He went to go speak, opening his mouth slightly, but soon closed it when no words came to fruition.

“It’s okay, we all know you can’t cook,” Sirius’ tone was light and caring but with a hint of humour. “But,” he paused, hiking Harry further up his body, “you gotta stop cursing in front of the baby.”

There was a moment of silence before Remus started to laugh which Harry quickly copied and joined in. All three boys were laughing in their disaster of a kitchen, bits of eggs, milk and burnt bread all over the place. Remus made eye-contact with Sirius, smiling softly as he mouthed ‘I’m sorry.’ Sirius quickly responded, shaking his head and walking forward a few steps to gently kiss him on the cheek.

Remus took Harry out of Sirius’ arms, wrapping one arm around his legs and bottom, whilst his other hand supported his upper back and shoulders. Harry’s hair resembled James’ hair- dark, wavy and full of volume. His bright green eye’s paralleling Lily’s, having the same level of innocence and mischievous intent behind them. Harry reached for Remus’ face, playing and prodding with his cheeks, pushing around the skin and making Remus look like an utter idiot— but it made Harry laugh.

“Pete’s gonna get us drive through and bring it over,” Sirius said, walking back into the kitchen, “to save you trying to cook again, Moony.”

“Thank you Pads,” Remus replied, removing his upper hand from Harry’s back and chucked a few utensils in the kitchen sink. Sirius started to do the same, not exactly cleaning but just general tidying. It’ll make it easier for when they did eventually get around to cleaning.

Remus didn’t quite know how Sirius could make such a trivial task comforting and relaxing. He slowly rocked Harry, whilst wiping the benches with his spare hand. Sirius cleaned up the leftover food and rinsed out the bowls whilst making small, banter comments under his breath about Remus’ lack of cooking skills, and cleaning skills. It had calmed all the previous tension he was holding from his outburst with the toast.

“I’m just saying, Moony, my mother’s hair would turn instantly grey if she even looked at the mess you left our kitchen in!” Sirius exclaimed, dramatically putting his arms out for further flair.

“Lower your voice, Black,” Remus softly said, tilting his head towards Harry, who was now almost asleep, his head resting in the crook of Remus’ neck, his little hand grasped onto a section of his top. Neither of them couldn’t help but smile. “The baby’s trying to sleep.”

“Least it isn’t swearing,”

“I hate you, sometimes,”

“If only I knew how bad a cook you were before I said yes.”

Remus squinted at his boyfriend, if there wasn’t a baby in his arms, he probably would’ve tackled him. Sirius stood there, a grin plastered on his face, his hair messy and in need of a haircut, his graphic tee had no sleeves, showing off his arms quite well. Remus had briefly forgotten about their banter, taking a minute to admire Sirius’ stature, his toned arms and how he always managed to pull off ripped skinny jeans.

“Hey!” Sirius whispered with force, “I just insulted you, idiot, don’t have anything to say?”

“You’ll make up for that later, Pads.”

“Pete’s out the front,” Sirius said, with his phone in hand. “Be back in a minute.”

Remus carefully peered down at Harry, moving incredibly slowly in an attempt to not awaken him. He was fast asleep, with a small pool of drool forming onto his top. Grabbing his blanket off the top of the couch, he slowly wrapped it around Harry before placing him in his make-do bed just beside the couch. Harry settled in nicely, his face moving ever so slightly reacting to whatever that little head was dreaming about. Sirius was back rather quickly, with food in hand.

They both sat down on the couch, their bodies leaning up against each other. Sirius reached into the takeout bags, pulling out the pancakes and fries that Pete got from them. Remus quickly went for the bag chips, or the best chips, in his opinion.

“I do love you, you know,” Sirius said, with his mouth half-full, “I love you and your crappy cooking skills.”

Remus lifted his arm, wrapping it around Sirius’ shoulder, pulling him in closer towards his own body. “I love you too, I couldn’t eat without you.” He laughed, reaching for some more fries.

It was a comfortable silence within their apartment. The two of them sitting on the couch, enjoying each other’s company and physical affection, whilst Harry slept in his make-do bed beside them. The smell of fresh takeout filling their senses. It was moments like these that Remus knew he made the right decision a few years ago. When he had the choice to keep his feelings to himself or take the gamble and potentially ruin his friendship. He was incredibly grateful that he took the risk; otherwise, he wouldn’t have one of his best friends beside him, stuffing his face with chips, with his body pressed against his own. And he certainly couldn’t call that best friend his boyfriend either.

Remus squeezed Sirius into a side-on hug, resting his head against Sirius’ hair. He couldn’t help but smile whilst they both continued to eat their not-so home-cooked breakfast. It was this that he had longed and yearned for, a sweet life that he never thought he could have, let alone deserve it.

“I really fucking love you, Sirius,” he whispered, taking another bite of food. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Sirius turned to eye-ball Remus, smiling slightly. “I really trucking love you too, Moony,” he paused, “but how many times do I have to tell you, no swearing in front of the baby!”

“He’s asleep, idiot,”

“Still! We’d never be allowed to babysit again.”

They both started to laugh, Remus moved forward, brushing their noses together. He closed his eyes as he started to close the distance between the two of them, Remus could feel Sirius smiling as he pressed his lips against his loves. Sirius kissed back as he tilted his head up, falling perfectly together. It was soft and light, Remus' chest felt light but full of emotion at the same time. His face seemed to form a smile without putting any thought into it. He couldn’t imagine any other place that he felt more happier or safer, with his lips against Sirius’, their limbs against one another.

Sirius pulled back first, giving Remus that warm smile, the type that included his eyes, where these little lines in the outer corner of each eye would appear, and his eyebrows would lift slightly. It was when Sirius was the most beautiful.

There was a specific thought that rushed through Remus’ head. He had to actively try to stop it from coming up and out of his mouth. He couldn’t ask it yet, no, not yet. Could he?

Sirius had turned back to the remainder of the food, it gave Remus a minute to think. He’d been wanting to for months, he had pondered different moments, different ways to ask it. He had even second questioned whether they were at that point in their relationship, whether he would actually say yes. Remus knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Sirius, he was convinced that Sirius was the love of his life.

Remus found himself lifting his body off the couch, his legs threatening to drop out from underneath him as he walked towards their shared bedroom. He’d brought a set of rings a few months ago now, it was an impulsive buy. Remus dug them out of the hiding spot, opening the boxes and looking over them.

His chest pounded, he felt like he was dreaming- nothing seemed real, but he couldn’t help but feel that he was making the right decision. He quickly shoved the boxes in his pyjama pockets and walked back out to the lounge room.

“Sirius?” His voice shook as he spoke, he stopped a few feet in front of his unsuspecting lover. He could feel his hands getting clammy, his mouth felt dry, his heart pounded more than he had ever felt it do so before.

“Yeah, babe?” Sirius licked his fingers of sauce, looking up at him. Here goes nothing.

Remus slowly lowered down on one knee, pulling the ring box out of his pocket as he did. “Sirius Black,” he paused, opening up the box, revealing the ring and pointing it in Sirius’ direction, “I love you more than I can even begin to describe.”

“Rem-”

“Wait,” He interrupted, “I want to finish first; I wouldn’t be where I am without you. I can’t live without you. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Remus took a breath, he continued, “Padfoot, will you marry me?”

It felt as if the next ten seconds lasted forever, just staring at Sirius, awaiting an answer. He watched as Sirius moved the food off his lap to where he sat a minute ago, and his hand started to shake out of his control as Sirius lowered himself to the floor, level with himself.

“Yes,” He whispered, his hands clasped Remus’ shaking ones. There were a few tears forming in both of their eyes, Sirius didn’t seem to mind and just let them fall down his slightly blushed cheeks. “I’ll marry you.”

A relieved chuckle escaped Remus’ mouth, he took a heavy breath. His mind kept replaying ‘yes’ over and over again. It didn’t quite seem real. They were both crying on their lounge room floor, grasping one another. Sirius leaned forward, moving one of his hands to the side of Remus’ face, running his thumb back and forth along his cheek.

“I love you too, Moony,” Sirius cried, “so, so much.”

“Sirius Lupin has a nice ring to it,” His voice was barely audible, but he could see Sirius smile.

“It does, doesn’t it?” Sirius sniffled as he pulled the ring out of the box, offering it to Remus and held his hand out. Remus chucked the box aside, slipping the gold ring onto Sirius’ finger, it matched his skin tone immensely. “It’s beautiful, Moony.”

The silence was full and warm, there weren't any words that came to either of their minds. It was truly the perfect moment.

Remus gripped onto Sirius, not wanting to let him out his arms, and he moved them both against the side of the couch. Sirius quickly settled in his lap, resting his head against his upper chest, there wasn’t a doubt that he could hear how fast and loud his heart was beating. Remus shut his eyes and lifted his hand to play with his now-fiance’s hair. Smooth as silk, like normal with a slight scent of pine. It was another one of Remus’ favourite things about his partner.

“You’re stuck with me forever now, you realise that right, Lupin?”

“Well, you’re stuck with my cooking, babe.”

#remus lupin #sirius black #wolfstar #remus john lupin #moony #sirius x lupin #sirius orion black #padfoot #the marauders #marauders fandom #james potter #jily #harry potter #hpedit #hp #hp fandom #hp fanfic #fluff #wolfstar fluff #wolfstar fic #sirius black x remus lupin

[teenytinyjimin]

snow day (k. seokjin)

summary: being snowed in isn't always the most fun, but when you're stuck with the love of your life, there's very little you can complain about.

pairing: seokjin x reader

word count: 1.7k

tags: fluff, romance, winter fic, lots of cuddles (it's cold, what else are you meant to do?), chef!seokjin (as expected), teasing (in the lighthearted and romantic way), kisses!!!!! lots of kisses!!!!!

warnings: none! enjoy some sweet fluff!

author’s note: hey guys!! finals are this week (bleh) and then i’ll be on vacation two-ish weeks from now so i won’t be posting a lot i’m afraid :( i’ll plan to have another fic out by tuesday next week and then i probably won’t post again for a week or two after that. hope yall enjoy what i make in the meantime but im sorry it won’t be a lot :(

anyway, this is dedicated to @kskskskskskskskss i hope you enjoy my love <3

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

There was no doubt that winter was your favorite season. Despite the gloom it tended to cast across your cozy town tucked into middle-of-nowhere Korea, it was always wintertime when its true beauty shone. The glimmering streetlights making the snow look like glitter falling from the sky was one of the most beautiful sights, especially on days when the sun was struggling to peek through the clouds and left the town dim.

Alas, the beauty of the snow on this particular day didn't take away the fact that it was completely snowing you in, to the point where you were afraid that opening the front door would cause a mountain of white powder to fall into the entryway of your warm abode. Actually, you were more than willing to leave the house and go enjoy the beauty of winter, it was just your boyfriend, who is too overprotective for his own good, who persuaded you into not leaving and just enjoying it from the comfort of your own home.

So here you were, peacefully obliging to your darling Seokjin's wishes to stay inside. If you were to choose between the snow outside and the love of your life, it would be him a million times over again. So at the cost of not making snow angels, you were instead sprawled across the couch, cuddled into a cozy blanket with your eyes shut as you listened to the sounds of him cooking in the kitchen. You weren't quite sure what he was making, but you knew it had to be good because nothing he ever made was anything less than perfect.

The only other thing you could have wished for in this very moment was to be in front of a crackling fireplace – that would have made this snow day beyond extraordinary. But alas the heat radiating from the furnaces spread out throughout the house would have to be good enough for now. Wishful thinking, you thought. Maybe one day we can live in a nice little home with a beautiful fireplace.

"Alright, you ready for some absolutely incredible kimchi jjigae?!" Jin called from the kitchen, his voice enthusiastic and bright. Mm. Kimchi jjigae. Your mouth was practically watering just at the thought of the delicious stew. However, your body wasn't as enthused at the thought of having to move from the comfort of the couch.

You let out a groan. "Mmh, can't move," You sighed in frustration, pulling the blanket over your head so that you could bury yourself into an even deeper state of comfort. This was followed by silence except for the sound of a few dishes clinking, before you heard a pair of footsteps come your way. "Come, dear, you need to eat,” Seokjin said softly, nudging you with a gentle hand. You refused to pull the blanket down from your face and remained silent, causing your partner to let out a deep sigh. "Alright, I'll just eat it all myself. More for me."

The last sentence set you off as you let out a desperate and breathy whine. You wanted to eat, you did, but that involved sacrificing the state of bliss you were currently in. Silence ensued yet again for a couple of minutes, to the point where you couldn't even hear your own breathing, before you were suddenly lifted off of the couch, blanket and all, and into Jin's arms. Letting out a squeal, you pulled the blanket down from your face to look up at him, his beautiful features a mere couple inches from your own as he now had you lifted up in bridal style.

Rather than wrapping your arms around his neck for support, you decided to drape yourself over him like a limp doll, causing the silliest of smiles to creep onto his face. "You know, I can carry you to the kitchen with no problem like this, but I'm not going to feed you like a baby. Even though you're cute like one." Ignoring his words, you let out a deep sigh, inhaling the scents that flooded the house. "It smells amazing in here. If I were to die right now, I'd be completely happy."

As you arrived at the kitchen, Jin pulled out one of the dining chairs with his leg and propped you onto it, giving you a soft kiss on your nose before bringing you a bowl of jjigae. "Please don't do that. I need you to clean the dishes." Letting out a gasp, you glared at your boyfriend, who appeared to be pretty proud of his last statement. "Excuse me? Is that all you take me for?" You asked, feigning offense. As he pulled the chair next to you out and sat himself in it, he grinned and shrugged. "Well, you're also a good girlfriend."

"With that attitude, you might as well call the couch your bed for tonight. And you'll be doing the dishes." As you went to go scoop up your first bite of jjigae, you were stopped by a swift hand that took the bowl away from you. You let out a shocked noise as you looked over to Jin, who had absolutely no intention of giving you the food back. "Looks like I was right about there being more for me," He said, beginning to playfully spoon at your bowl.

"Hey! No, I'm sorry," You tried to bargain with him, even going as far as to give him puppy eyes. When it came to food, you did not mess around, and you were ready to take everything you said back if it meant that you'd still be able to eat. As you watched him take a spoonful of your portion into his mouth, you let out a pleading whine. He looked over at you with confusion, pretending that he didn't hear a word you said. "Huh?" He asked. "Sorry, did you say something? I was enjoying my jjigae."

"Give me my bowl back," You insisted, no longer playing around. If this went on any longer, you'd be declaring war. Smug look on his face, he pretended to innocently tilt his head. "I'm going to need something in return…” He said, his voice trailing off towards the end as he continued to spoon at your jjigae. You knew exactly what he was asking for and unfortunately there was no way that you were going to get that food back unless you gave it to him.

Letting out a soft sigh, you reached over to caress his cheek and guide his face towards yours before planting a soft kiss to his lips. And then another. But just as you were about to pull away and kindly ask for your food back he grabbed your face and pulled you in again for a gazillion more kisses. Squealing between each one, you attempted to playfully push him away but he just kept going, kissing your lips, and then your forehead, and then your cheek, and then back to your lips again, all the while a bright red blush creeping to your cheeks.

“J… Jin! The jjigae will get cold!” You finally got out, successfully pushing him away. He let out a defeated (and quite sad) sigh as he pushed your bowl back to you and returned to his own. “I could’ve reheated it…” He muttered, but you shushed him with a firm squeeze to his knee from under the table as you both began to dig in to the delicious meal.

Following the initial playful moment that you two shared during your meal, the food was nothing short of amazing and you both thoroughly enjoyed your dinner ‘date’. After every couple of bites you never failed to compliment Seokjin on his incredible cooking, each and every time resulting in a shy giggle erupting from his throat. He never knew what to say when you complimented him – although his confidence was never bad, hearing such high words of praise coming from the love of his life never failed to make him timid and unable to react. It was the fact that he saw you as absolutely perfect that made him unable to comprehend how you could feel the same about him, because hearing such kind and honest words come from someone he’s head over heels for is like hearing the sweetest song in the world.

After you took the time to clean up the dishes your chef used to create such a fantastic meal, you found yourselves flopped down onto the couch. With two bodies plus the blanket that was previously covering you before dinner, it was simply impossible to see which limb belonged to whom because you were tangled up with one another. The only thing that mattered to you, though, was that you felt safe, loved, and extremely cozy.

"I don't think I'll be moving anytime soon," You huffed out, head on your boyfriend's chest. "I can hardly breathe with the amount of food in my stomach right now." Letting out a satisfied hum, Jin brought a hand to your head as he gently brushed through your hair with his fingers. You felt him move slightly as he turned to look out the window and you did the same, admiring the snow that continued to fall outside. "It really is pretty," You commented, taking a deep breath as you not only tried to make yourself feel slightly more comfortable but also took in your lover's scent. "Never as pretty as you." Jin hummed without skipping a beat. "Plus it's cold. You're warm. Warm is always better."

"Are you telling me you'd rather be warm than cold?" You asked. In your mind, being too warm was a lot more unbearable than being too cold. As you felt Jin wrap his arms around you and give you a tight squeeze, he sighed. "No no, being cold is better. Because that means I can warm up by cuddling with you. The best cuddler there ever was." You let out a soft giggle as you buried your face deeper into his chest and he tightened the grip he had on you. It didn't feel too tight or restrictive in any way, shape, or form – being so tightly wrapped in his arms felt more comforting than anything else in the world.

"Thank you for spending the day with me," You mumbled into his shirt as you felt his lips gently kiss the top of your head. "There's nothing else I'd rather do, my love."

#teenytinyjimin #bangtan #bts #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts fanfiction #bts fic #bts jin #bts seokjin #kim seokjin #seokjin fanfic #jin fanfic #seokjin fluff #jin fluff #jin x reader #seokjin x reader #fanfic #fluff

[crimsonhydrangeavn]

I got a question for Garrett, what would happen if MC decided pamper him

Like complimenting him daily

Telling him to rest and spend time

Reminding him he's enough and that perfection isn't always the answer and that MC fell in love because who he truly is and not the one he shows outside of Saint Anne

Instead of going out to dinner, making home cooked meals and etc.

And also help him get the proper help he really needs. That poor baby needs a hug ;-;

Oh my, this is literally the sweetest ask ever! Just the thought of you taking the time to try and heal Garret warms my heart! So much so I'll can't help but share a few little spoilers about his past. I'll make sure to mark them so you don't accidentally spoil yourself if you don't want to!

Honestly, I think Garret's initial reaction would be to happily accept the compliments, home cooked meals, and quality time chalking it up as what a "healthy" relationship should look like. That being said, he would absolutely spoil you and reciprocate all of those sweet and loving gestures.

When it comes to the positive affirmations and being told that he doesn't need to be perfect... well it'll take some time for him to fully believe your words.

At first he'd think your just being kind and saying what expected of wonderful life partner. However, once it sunk in that you were being genuine and you actually meant it... He'd have a really difficult time accepting it.

SPOILER STARTS BELOW

Garret was raised to be his parent's golden only child. That being said, nothing he did was ever enough for his parents. Straight A's? Why not straight A+'s? You won first place in a race? Why aren't you competing in the nationals? What's that? You won a national competition? Why didn't you beat the previous record? Oh you did? Well you need to focus on other extracurriculars if you want to get into the same Ivy league school your father went to. Nothing he did was ever enough for them, however he was far better than his classmates when it came to nearly everything. Grades, athletics, extracurriculars, looks, body, social acumen, etc. All of the girls in his private school wanted to be with him and all of the guys wanted to be him.

However he never saw any of them to be worthy of his time, not until you came along that is...

END SPOILER

The thought of someone like you, the object of ALL of his affections, believing that he's worthy? That he doesn't have to run several miles a day and practically starve himself to maintain his model-esque figure? That he doesn't have to spoil you in riches beyond your wildest dreams?

It'll be a lot for him to understand and accept. However, once he finally believes your sincerity, the poor guy cling onto you and will break down into heart-wrenching sobs.

Finally, finally someone accepts him. Not for the perfect mask he's been trained to wear from a young age, but actually loves and accepts him for who he is on the inside.

And it's not just anyone. It's you. The one he adores, the one he's been completely and hopelessly devoted to since he first saw you, the only one that truly matters.

He would be a completely wreck, but with your patience and kind words he might actually have a shot at healing himself and actual redemption.

Of course, that'll all depend on your actions in and outside of game. ; )

#original character #yandere #yandere visual novel #yanderes #male yandere #yandere vn #crimson hydrangea #visual novel #crimson hydrangea vn #ask #garre #garret belmont

[nav-i-nav]

“We found Basil tending to his garden, as usual! He was so confused when we whisked him away towards the forest! Just wait until he sees what we prepared for him! I bet he’s going to love it!”

📷🌻 Happy birthday, Basil! 🌻📷

Small one-shot for my AU below… thank you if you read it….!

"Hurry up, Basil!" Aubrey urged, pushing the mint-haired boy with all of her strength, her large ribbon bouncing on top of her head with each step she took. The girl huffed and puffed, almost tripping and knocking the gardener over in the process. Nevertheless, she continued, her cheerful but bossy tone echoing throughout the flower field the four friends were passing through."Or else we're not going to make it on time for your surprise birthday party! Mari would be really mad if we–”

As soon as those words left her lips, she stopped dead in her tracks, her smile turning sheepish as she rubbed the back of her neck. "Oops.…"

Next to her, a short boy with messy hair let out a loud groan, puffing his cheeks in annoyance.

"Great job, Aubrey!" He exclaimed with disdain. Next to him, Sunny narrowed his eyes and clicked his tongue in disproval. "You ruined it!"

"It was an honest accident, okay?! No need to be such a jerk over it…" The girl snapped back at him, turning around to face him and crossing her arms. "Besides, you almost spilled the beans when you dragged Basil away from his garden anyway, so don't try to act like you know how to keep a secret either, Chico!"

Aubrey then returned her attention to Basil with the same shy expression, ignoring Chico's protests as she clasped her hands together and closed her eyes. “Can you please act surprised once we get to the treehouse? Mari and Hero worked really hard to get everything ready for the party and I’d be really sad if all their hard work went to waste because of me.”

Basil simply shrugged, a small teasing smile forming on his lips as he giggled. “What party?”

The girl let out a big sigh of relief, giving him a thankful nod before she nudged him forward. “Well, let’s keep moving then! We can’t waste any more time standing around here like a couple of lost sprout moles!” As she said that, she shot Chico an accusatory glare, to which the boy  replied with an offended “What?!”

“Oh, quit playing dumb!” Aubrey tapped her foot against the ground, her brows furrowing as she pressed her lips together. “You know as well as I do that if it weren’t for you and your stupid obsession to prove you’re strong, we wouldn’t be running late!”

“It’s not stupid!” Chico argued back, placing his hands on his hips and rolling his eyes. “If we hadn’t dealt with those sprout moles who knows what might’ve happened. What if someone got hurt?”

“Since when do you care if someone gets hurt or not? All you wanted was to show off!”

“Did not!”

“You so did!”

“You’re such a liar!”

“Guys…” Basil let out an awkward laugh, stepping in between the two of them. “If you keep arguing like this, we definitely won’t make it to the treehouse in time.”

Aubrey opened her mouth, ready to protest, but she simply huffed and nodded, crossing her arms and looking away from Chico. “Fine.”

Basil waited.

Three.

Two.

On–

"But we definitely wouldn't have had to take so many twists and turns if it weren’t for Chico always fooling around. Hmph!”

There it is.

“That’s not true!”

“Yes it is!”

“Nuh-uh! Both you and Sunny kept getting distracted as well! Stop acting as if it’s all my fault!”

Basil sighed, giving up trying to get his friends to listen to him. Why did all their conversations have to end with the two of them fighting? He knew neither of them was actually upset, but still… Couldn’t they at least try to get along just once?

At least they managed to find this field of flowers after having to take so many shortcuts. All the flowers were different shades of blue and purple, their petals gently swaying in the summer breeze. Basil had made sure to take note of all the different kinds of plants he found as they made their way amongst the grass. Ah, if only they could stop for a little while so he could take in the scenery better…

Well, there was no benefit in dwelling over it. And he could always come back here another day. But the sky was so pretty… 

Slowly, Basil pulled out his camera, focusing the lens on the flowers. He held his breath, and…

Click!

The photo slowly slid down into his hand, the gardener grasping the Polaroid with care as he waited for the image to fully develop. Slowly, the colors began burning into the paper, all the hues mixing together to reveal a beautiful scenery.

The mint-haired boy smiled, satisfied, and put the photo in his pocket, he didn’t want it to be damaged until he could place it in the photo album, after all. He couldn’t wait to show everyone. Sunny would probably want to draw–

He snapped back from his thoughts, looking back at his friends. 

“Where’s Sunny?”

Aubrey and Chico stopped their bickering, the two of them turning back to Basil with confused expressions, confusion that quickly turned to shame. Basil’s smile soon vanished as he let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. That was all he needed to know. 

“He wandered off on his own, didn’t he?”

No response.

That was all he needed to know. Basil shook his head, looking around the flower field to see if he could find any trace of his best friend. Unfortunately for him, Sunny proved to be quite the sneaky one, as there were no footprints to follow. He pressed his lips together, before taking another deep breath and putting on a bright smile, his tone cheerful and calm. “Th-that’s okay! We’ll just have to look for him. I doubt he got too far away, so why don’t we split up? The field isn’t that big, anyway.”

“Good idea, Basil!” Right away, Aubrey nodded, already bouncing on her feet as she looked around. “I’ll take the left and Chico can take the right!”

“Why do I–”

“And Basil,” Aubrey continued through gritted teeth, shooting Chico another warning stare. “can go back to where we came from to see if Sunny went back.”

Before Chico could try to argue again, the gardener hummed in agreement, pressing his hands together. “Sounds like a plan! Let’s meet up here in five minutes, okay?”

His friends answered with an “Okay.” at the same time, though Chico was clearly still upset about having to follow Aubrey’s lead, grumbling under his breath as he walked away. Likewise, Aubrey’s bow kept bouncing up and down as the girl cheerfully hopped away. She reminded him of a bunny.

Once he was alone, Basil began walking back the way they came, scanning his surroundings as he tried to find any sign of his best friend. As he walked, he couldn’t help but hum a little tune to himself, his hands brushing against the forget-me-nots and lavenders’ soft petals. The flowers’ fragrance filled his nostrils, making him calm down. Despite how he tried to keep his composure, in truth, he was a little afraid. By all means, he didn’t doubt Sunny was strong enough to take care of himself, and he wasn’t one to rush into battle, but this was still an unknown place, as pretty as it was. 

Aubrey always told him he worried too much about them, but he couldn’t help it. He loved his friends more than anything, so if anything were to happen to them….

Basil always made sure his friends stayed safe. It was a bit tiring, sure, but caring for those he was closest to always filled him with a warm sense of fulfillment and peace. He did feel a little bad from time to time, constantly chasing after them and nagging them to be careful, feeling like he was being too pushy or too nosy, but they never seemed to mind. Well, except for Chico… hehe…

He kept walking until he caught a glimpse of a blue rose out of the corner of his eye. Curious, Basil crouched down, reaching his hand out towards the flower. As his fingertips traced the edges of the flower’s petals, he couldn’t help but feel mesmerized by it. He had never seen a rose such as this. What was such a rare flower doing all alone, surrounded by so many different flowers?

He had the urge to take it back with him and care for it so he could show it to his friends. Something about it was so unique and appealing that he just couldn’t leave it here and–

“Ouch!” Basil winced, taking away his hand as one of its thorns managed to pierce through his gloves and prick his finger. He could feel his eyes tearing up a little due to the pain. As he took off his glove and examined his hand, he could see a thin trail of blood slowly dripping from the tip of his ring finger. Despite the thorn’s small size, the cut stung quite a bit. 

“I guess I deserve that.” Basil chuckled, shaking his hand to get rid of the blood. Indeed, he had been selfish and didn’t consider what would happen to the rose had he tried to pluck it. Maybe there was a reason it chose to bloom surrounded by so many different flowers. He hummed, rummaging through his pockets as he looked for a bandaid for his injury. 

As he did, he couldn’t help but muse. He hadn’t changed, had he? He cared for his friends, yes, but he did so because he was afraid they would leave him if he did something wrong. He did his best to smile and be kind, but sometimes it was quite tiring to chase after Chico or to remind Sunny to take a break from drawing. Sometimes he’d even have to stop Hero from taking on another chore even if he was already very busy. 

Just now he had thought about how exhausting it was to constantly have to play peacemaker whenever Aubrey and Chico argued. But, was it so wrong to feel that way? 

Basil ran his hand through his hair as he stood up, a small, resigned sigh leaving his lips. He shouldn’t be feeling this way. He should be grateful he had such good friends! Sure, they could be a little rowdy and careless from time to time, but at the end of the day, they were still kids. And he was one too. He couldn’t act like he was more mature than them just because he wasn’t as impulsive as them, now could he?

To be honest, the gardener wished he could have some of the bravery and enthusiasm they had. Although he didn’t like exploring as much as his friends, he was always coaxed into accompanying them. It was fun, but also a bit too extreme for his taste…

Oh well…

As he heard his friends’ quick footsteps and cheerful voices growing closer, Basil took one last look at the lonely blue rose hidden in the grass. 

Maybe one day he’ll be able to do as he pleases. 

But for now, he’s more than happy simply tagging along in his friend’s adventures. 

#omori #omori game #omori fandom #omori au #chico au #omori art #omori fanart #omori fic #omori fanfic #omori basil #basil omori #Navi’s art #my art #Navi’s writing #this is what I meant when I said I was cooking #can’t believe I managed to do it all today omg….. #apologies if there’s any mistakes in the writing btw ;;;;; #I’ll upload it tomorrow on AO3 once I proof read again…. #anyway I know a lot of people aren’t familiar with my au because I barely post content about it #but I’ll do my best to upload stuff and maybe even make a blog for it ^^! yay!

[mwahkazu]

also. do you think kazhua would be ticklish

-rin

ooo ticklish kazuha? rin really out here feeding into my kazuha brainrots…don’t get me started at 12am now…but i mean if you insist—

incoming (ticklish) bf kazuha headcanons:

as for whether or not kazuha would be ticklish, my answer to that question is, yes…BUT hear me out. let me cook👀

he’s very much a words of affirmation and quality time love language kind of guy for a platonic relationship

but in a romantic setting…oh you’re definitely gonna see some physical touch in there

i feel like hands are a big thing for him like he’s always looking to be holding your hand cause he just loves the feeling

the kind to gently kiss the back of your hand, your fingers, and down to your wrist which for you is admittedly kind of ticklish

not ticklish in a way that has you laughing but the kind that just sends a fluttery feeling all throughout your body

and he of course realizes this very quickly. so what does he do?

playfully teases you w/ it of course

you’ll be in the middle of typing something away on your laptop or writing something, fully immersed in your work

meanwhile kazuha is quietly watching beside you, feeling a bit needy because…archons you’ve been at it for the past hour and haven’t fully acknowledge him since he got home aside from greeting him with a smile

he’ll then do that thing of reaching his hand under yours, stopping you in your typing or if you’re holding a pencil, he’ll replace it with his interlocking your fingers letting the pencil fall

“kazu what’s wrong—” begins to kiss your hand painfully slow (in a good way) and softly starting at your fingertips and gradually working his way down and…oh great, now you’ve lost focus

what about him though? he gets all the fun of teasing the hell out of you with those hand kisses of his

you feel it’s only fair if you did the same. so now it’s your turn

you remember trying to subtly ask him if he was ticklish anywhere playing it off as some random question a friend had asked you

but he saw right through you. laughing softly at your strange but cute behavior, “love, are you trying to ask if i’m ticklish or not?”

damn him and his high sense of awareness

guess it’s time for plan b

at random points throughout the day, you’ll attempt to attack him with tickles. when he’s washing the dishes you’ll sneak up behind him and try to tickle his sides

“hm? yes love, did you need something?” nothing.

or when he’s laying down on the couch reading a book you’ll pretend to just walk by and then try to tickle his stomach but he’ll just look at you with that cute face of his like “…?”

“AHHH THIS IS SO UNFAIR! I HATE YOU!” watches you storm out of the living room a bit dumbfounded

dw he’ll come find you later and get you to stop being grumpy with him by offering to cuddle🥹

but then…that fateful day finally came

the two of you were cuddled up in bed, arms wrapped him as he read his book while brushing your hair that was slowly lulling you to sleep

wanting a more comfortable position, you moved your head away from his chest, now nuzzling into his neck

your small warm breaths hitting his neck, the way your nose softly brushed against his skin…his hand in your hair stopped in its motions.

“hmm…why’d you stop?” you frowned, stirring yourself awake as you moved your head away to look at him and that's when you saw the way his cheeks were now dusted in pink

you’ve found his weakness

now go back to those previous failed attempts of yours and replace them with you going up to him and buying yourself into his neck using the excuse of saying you just love the way he smells when he asks what you’re doing

which was a half truth anyways. he does smell good

idk why but i always imagined his scent to be some combination of vanilla orchid with amber/musk and some jasmine to give it that floral edge (personal hc of mine dont come at me yall)

on days when you were feeling extra mischievous you’d litter his neck with feather light kisses that always has him in a blushing mess

mission success! you finally got your revenge on him >:)

but just as you're about to walk away, feeling fully satisfied with yourself, he grabs your wrist, pulling you right back to him

“you didn't think i’d just let you get away with all the teasing you’ve been doing to me, did you dove?”

OOP…sir-?😳

ahem. soo i’ll leave you all with this cute pic of smiling kazu and your imaginations while i go to sleep for the night😌

#[ ౨ৎ ] — mailbox. #[ ‹𝟹 ] — fontinalia mousse. #when i said let me cook what i actually meant was im making a whole full-course meal #my kazuha brainrots do not mess around guys this is my husband we’re talking about after all #now ​my unintentional little gift to rin🤭 #kazuha x reader #kazuha x you

[bredforloyalty]

(supersonic is a virtual oasis reunion / liam for mojo, 2005 / oasis: the band's former insiders on fame, punch-ups and not having baths)

#this is obviously not what i meant when i said i was cooking a teeny tiny bit but uhhh it's nearing 6 am! also i am unwell genuinely #so i will be going to sleep<3 #oasis #x

[crabsnpersimmons]

Y'ALL HAVE ME LIKE

I DON'T KNOW WHAT I DID

BUT Y'ALL HAVE BEEN SO SWEET

I'M SORRY IT'S TAKING ME SO LONG TO REPLY

I WANNA DRAW THINGS BACK

AND I WILL

after my exam tomorrow :')

#i am overwhelmed y'all #my heart is so full #wish me all the broken legs for tomorrow :') #this second course is MASSIVE #there's just so many terms and acts and dates and formulas to rememberrrrr #like i swear they made this course 4 TIMES BIGGER THAN THE FIRST ONE just to weed out the weak #and i am not weak #i meant what i said when i said i was speedrunning this program #we have 2 years to complete it #and i'm trying to finish it in 5 months #but like #once i'm done #i have so much to unleash #i wanna draw more art for the hairdresser AU and start working on the fic #and draw more raincoat chibi DCA and maybe do a comic of their backstory? #and there's so many memes i wanna draw #and i have a new au i've been cooking up #it will most likely be a fic that's a series of oneshots (with some art but mostly a fic) #it's another slice of life au and very self-indulgent #but i hope it'll be a treat for some of you as well #might post a few crumbs of it sometime soon #it's been on the backburner of my mind for a while now

[secondbeatsongs]

🌻

if you want to make good fried rice, you have to leave it alone.

like, sure you can use two different kinds of soy sauce if you want (double black soy sauce, for example, tastes like molasses and is delicious) but that won't make your rice taste like fried rice.

no, the secret to that is...well, inaction.

allow me to explain:

so, let's say that you've got some day-old rice. because yeah, that's the best way to make fried rice: with leftover rice!

(if you forgot to make rice the day before, you can also just make rice, spread it out on a cookie sheet, and let it dry out for a bit. maybe pop it in the fridge for an hour. will it be the same? no. but it will be better than fresh rice!)

anyway chop up an onion and some veggies or w/e, and fry them up. (I like to add the garlic last because otherwise I will burn it, and I don't want that to happen.)

when your veggies are cooked up, tip in the rice and stir it around a bit, and then pour in your soy sauce and stir it a couple times.

and then...

...just wait.

no, it'll be fine. I promise.

if your pan is seasoned enough, you'll be fine.

so just wait. for a minute or so.

just a bit longer!

okay, now! stir it or flip it whatever. use your utensil of choice on it.

is the rice crispy and a little bit brown on the bottom?

if not, that's okay! just try again, but leave it for longer this time!

(it takes a little experimenting to figure out how long to let the rice sit in the pan so that it's crispy but not burnt, so don't feel bad if you can't get this the first time! but once you do get it...just you wait...)

when your rice does look somewhat crispy, success!

now repeat that a few times, stirring and then letting it sit, until most of the rice is crispy and a little brown, and you will have achieved the real secret ingredient of fried rice: frying

next: egg. you can scramble this separately, but tbh I'm lazy, so shove your rice over to one side of the pan, crack an egg into the empty spot it left behind, and scramble it.

let the egg cook pretty much completely before using your spatula or w/e to cut it into smaller bits and mix it with the rice, or it'll get weird, and not in a fun way. you don't want it to look like a rice omelette, with the rice glued into place in the egg. no, you want the egg to be woven through the fried rice like a delicious tapestry.

once you've reached this point: congratulations! you've done it.

so when people say, "you're telling me a shrimp fried this rice?" you can tell them, "no, I did. I did it myself!" ⭐

tips & tricks:

⭐ I use vegetable oil, but you can also use peanut or sesame oil. I'm not a fan of olive oil for this because it burns easy, but if you want to take that risk, that's on you. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

⭐ frozen veggies are great for this! I get a bag of frozen mixed vegetables at walmart for cheap, and that lasts me a while! but when you cook them, make sure to let the extra liquid evaporate off before adding the rice, so you don’t get soggy rice.

⭐ at different points in my life, I have done the two-soy-sauce method, because I felt like it. but tbh, I've also just used a bunch of packets leftover from takeout, and it turned out fine. so, live your own life. be yourself.

⭐ a wok is better for this than a frying pan, but a big frying pan will still work okay. just be careful or you'll dump rice everywhere.

⭐ I'm not providing amounts here because I don't measure things when I cook. you have to open your heart and let your soul guide you. and then when your soul is wrong, you have to tell it to think about what it's done, and try again later.

#food #sbs rambles #ask meme #asks #I wrote part of this while eating fried rice #and lamenting how long it took me #to figure out how to actually fry the rice #because let's be real #online recipes can suck sometimes #when it comes to actually teaching the methods of cooking #every fried rice recipe I found a decade ago just said #''now fry the rice'' #with no instruction as to what that meant #and a lot of the pictures showed pale under-fried rice anyway #so it's not like the cooks knew themselves #but no #if you want the rice to taste fried #you have to fry it #let it have contact with the pan #so you can taste the goodness #also add a lil oyster sauce if you want #it's tasty

[thatsparadise]

sorry abt the fact i haven't posted (new) pt fanart in weeks help 💔 i feel like my fanart's getting repetitive but i don't know what else to draw plus like i've said i'm a little burnt out from making pt fanart

#i promise i will cook something new eventually #IF i figure out what to draw😭 #so if i get motivated expect more sprite redraws for now lol #those get a bit repetitive too but when i said my art's repetitive in the post i meant that as in like all of my art is noise couple #i feel like i never draw anyone or anything else just those two repeatedly #i do like drawing them yes but auuuugh i feel like i'm not a good artist if everything i post is the same but slightly different #ok ranting over sorryyyy these tags don't really contribute to the post i just felt like ranting a bit

[taxonomicons]

yeah love is stored in a grilled cheese what about it?

#being made a grilled cheese is maybe the single closest feeling I’ll have to knowing god #I never understood what people meant when they said they liked when someone else cooked x thing even if it was the same recipe #until now #now I get it #love in somewhere in between that bread #she is alive and well #smushed next to some melted cheese

[oatbugs]

i am actually terrified xoxo

#ok yk how i ended up going to sweden to a family friends house and staying in an empty w a futon in it #the family friend in question is actually a really ridiculously clever translator/linguist/author/journalist/etc #genuinely shes so smart . but also shes like . super introverted and the whole house is constantly silent i can hear someone sighing #through a closed door . and the door to my containment cube TM is in the living room and i am constanrly living in fewr #of making any noise . also forgot to take UK-EU adapter w me so i literally cpuld not study which is the entire reason #i came here . to run away from my parents constantly screaming at each other etc. anyway theyre actually lovely ppl but i am so afraid of #like . using up their food etc . that i rejected it for a while . which is dumb as fuck bc straight up rejecting to eat smns cooking #is actually rly rude in my culture . but i still feel guilty. and like im not even here w my own money (i dont have any of that left xoxo) #anyway we had a convo abt languages and i realised my persian is so shit rn its so . shameful of me. she also told me to learn german #(bc philisophy) and i told her i kind of am kind of and she said do u find it a mathematical langauge ? WHAT DOES THAT MEAN #WHAT DO U MEAN . LIKE IK ROUGHLY WHAT SHE MEANT BUT LIKE WHAT WAS THE RIGHT ANSWER #when i responded she just smiled and said nothing for 10 seconds i feel like my whole personality was being judged for that response #anyway @swedes ur consensus culture is actually so fascinating #empty cube** first tag #every moment i am living in fear . still 100x better than being home lmao #the way i didnt sleep for 3 days . xoxo #anyway linköping bitches r like lets do smth crazy and go to a pub at 7pm order 2 entire beers chat cordially and split the bill before 8pm #heart emoji everyone here js rly sweet

[zombieplaguedoc]

IDK if this is canon to my Encanto/Metal Family crossover AU, but it is an idea for it.

What if Mirabel did have a gift (or another gift), but she didn't discover it until she began living with the metal family? And that her gift is musically related, much like with the family that found her? So, I already wrote this down on Instagram, but I imagine her gift being that either she can play any instrument (even the hardest one) like a professional, despite having never picked one up, as well as playing any song, even ones she never heard before, no sheet music or tabs needed, or being able to make any instruments nearby play on their own (though I'm leaning more towards the former since someone on Instagram already has the latter); she also has a "golden voice". However, in addition to getting her gift, she actually helps Dee get his musical gift. Like, as she continues staying with the family, Dee slowly is able to learn how to play the guitar and sing, much to his amazement. Like, he's still impatient, but, he's able to slowly work past it, up to the point where he's developed his talent and is almost on the same level as his dad or Mirabel. Like, her being there helped Dee hone in on and develop his musical side.

And then it's realized that it's because the two work so well together, despite their vastly differing personalities, both musically and regularly, that Dee was able to learn and improve. (FYI, I mean all of that in a platonic way since, you know, they're siblings). It's like a duet, y'know? Since their relationship still manages to be a good one, despite all the trials and hardships that naturally come with being siblings, and they still manage to work through their differences and perform well together. Something like that.

Yeah, I'm still working on it, but that's all I got so far. Hopefully you understood all that.

#Also don't ask me what I mean by golden voice #Cause I completely forgot #I think it was the ability to make people feel good calm or relaxed when they heard her singing #Or her voice being addicting to listen to and have a siren effect on people #Like I said I don't remember #also she and Dee perform together at some point and that'll probably be how one of the Madrigals find her #okay so I finally remembered what I meant by golden voice #what I meant was that her voice had the ability to heal people #similar to her mom's cooking #except she used her voice #crossover #au #crossover au #encanto #metal family #mirabel madrigal #dee metal family #abuela alma madrigal #alma madrigal

[mrsbarnesblog]

firewood

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Lumberjack! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: When you decide to chop wood in your backyard, your hot neighbor, who happens to be a lumberjack, offers you some help.

Word count: 4.8K

Warnings: +18❗️smut, hot neighbor bucky is a fucking warning, kinda size kink, rough sex, protected sex, dirty talk, pet names

Author's note: this is one of my favorite works, so I hope everyone who hasn't read it before will like it too (it's hard to not fall for lumberjack Bucky, tbh🤷‍♀️)

“Hey, do you need help?” You stopped what you were doing. You breathed heavily, your arms ached, and you were already sweating. The man, your neighbor, whom you already saw a few times when you arrived home, was standing before you with his hands in his jeans pockets. 

He was attractive. Really handsome. Probably 6 feet tall, with broad shoulders and visibly a lot of muscles under the clothes. Yeah, that red henley left nothing for your imagination. His dark hair was put in a low bun, and he had a little stubble on his face. But you mostly noticed his bright blue eyes, which looked straight at you very attentively.

“Sorry, what?” You said as you wiped sweat from your forehead with the sleeve of your shirt. 

“I asked if you needed help. Sorry, but it seems like you have some troubles.” He smiled at you almost shyly, and you couldn’t even make yourself mad at his words. 

“Um, It’s my first time doing it.” You awkwardly smiled back, finally putting a big ax to the ground. “But I need wood for my fireplace, so I have to work with what I have.”

“I see… but don’t you have a boyfriend or a husband? I mean, it’s not really easy to do for a woman, and you seem pretty... petite for this?” It almost sounded like a question. “I wanted to say that I can help you if you allow me, because that thing might be really dangerous if you don’t know how to work with it, and I'm a lumberjack, so... it’s not a problem for me.” He awkwardly started to rub his neck. “I’m Bucky, by the way.”

“For a woman?” You playfully arched an eyebrow. “So you think that only men can do this?” You saw how his eyes widened, and you tried to hold your laughter.

“No, no! That’s not what I meant!” He lifted both hands in the air. “It’s just gonna take you forever to do, and as I said before, It’s not the safest work. And since this is my job, I could’ve helped you. As a neighbor, you know?” 

“Relax, I’m just joking.” You softly smiled at him. “Nice to finally meet you. I’m Y/N.” You reached out your hand. Bucky’s face relaxed, but then his lips curled into a mischievous smile.

“I like you.” He said, as he shook your hand. His grip was tight, and you felt that he really did a lot of physical work with his hands.

“Oh… thanks?” 

“Soo, do you need help?” He asked again.

“Um, honestly, I don’t know. I can’t just let you work for me for free. Can I pay you?”

“Doll, I have enough money, and I don’t need yours. I don’t think that you need tons of firewood, so it would be easy work for me.”

“Okay, but maybe I can give you food? Pastry? I really love to cook, and everyone said that I’m good at it.” You nervously played with your sleeve while Bucky was staring directly at you.

“Deal. I would honestly die for homemade food, ‘cause last time I ate it was at my ma’s and I really miss it. But you don’t have to do this, okay?”

“And you don’t have to help me.” You shot back.

Bucky’s smile grew wider, and he started shaking his head. “You have some temper, doll... Friday is okay?” 

“Yeah, totally, any time you’re free.” 

“Deal. I should probably go, and you better start training to cook food for me. I am really picky, and you insisted on paying me with it.” He said and started to walk back.

“Oh, shut up.” You laughed. “I know what I’m doing; don’t underestimate me!” 

“Fine. See ya, doll.” Bucky waved at you with the biggest smile on his face and finally walked away.

Well, it’s gonna be interesting. 

For the next almost two months, Bucky had been “working” for you, and you paid him with your food every single time because you couldn’t leave that man starving after he just got home from work and then willingly helped you. 

You two got closer. Bucky was a really good man; you found out it while you were sitting in your backyard looking at how his muscles were moving with every swing of the ax. He was right that it wasn't a big deal for him—the job that you would’ve been doing for several hours he did in twenty or thirty minutes. 

The conversation with Bucky was easy, he was a pretty reserved person, but he still told you everything about his job and his friends and asked you things about your life. It was hard not to fall for him. Especially when he gave you this boyish smile every time it was time to say goodbye or when you brought him your homemade food. 

Usually he comes to your house every Friday after work around 6 p.m., but today it was already 8 and he still didn’t show up. There was no light in his windows either, so you became really worried that something serious had happened. 

You were nervously sitting on the bar stool in your kitchen while your dinner was getting cold on the stove. You really had no appetite. What if he got injured from his dangerous work? Or maybe you were just overreacting and he went on a date with someone? You really had no reason to be worried that much because Bucky probably didn’t even think of you as a close friend, and you were just a too dramatic person with attachment issues. 

The light knock on the door scared you a little bit, but you still jumped out of your seat to open it. 

Bucky was standing there, visually perfectly fine and without any injuries, and you sighed with relief. 

“Bucky, oh my god, hi. Are you okay? I was really worried about you, and I don’t even have your phone number to text or call.” You mumbled as your eyes studied his face. 

“Hey, doll.” Bucky softly smiled at you, but it was obvious that he wasn’t really in the mood. “I’m fine. Just a shitty day at work. My boss went fucking crazy over nothing, and it was just a mess.” He ran a hand through his long hair. “But I have to do your firewood, so I'll go change and be back in a few minutes, ‘kay?”

He started to go back, but you caught him by his wrist. “No, Buck, wait. You don’t have to do it right now, really. I have enough wood, and you’re really exhausted. Come in; I have fresh lasagna and chocolate muffins.” 

“Um—are you sure? I mean, you don’t have to.” He mumbled. You noticed that you were still holding his wrist, but decided to leave it that way. 

“Don’t worry, I have enough food, and you look like you really need it. C’mon, don’t you want to eat something homemade and still hot after a bad day at work?” You gave him your best smile, and it was obvious in his eyes that he already agreed to your idea. 

“Okay, we can do that. Honestly, I feel like I’m able to eat a fucking elephant.” 

You both shared a laugh before you almost dragged him into your house and closed the door. Only at that moment did you realize that even though you gave Bucky a lot of food, he had never been at your place before. For some reason, you felt really excited to feed him and spend some time together. 

“Sit here while I’m heating the food.” Bucky obediently took a seat, looking with a soft smile at how you were moving around in your little kitchen.

You looked so domestic and soft in the warm yellow lights of the room in the cute pink cotton dress with little flowers all over it. The concentration was written all over your face as you tried to perfectly set plates and cutlery on the table and then put steaming lasagna on it.

“Fuck, it smells so good; you’re going to kill me, doll.” He wasn’t able to handle the amazing smell of food right in front of him. 

Your cheeks heated, and you waved your hand at him. “It’s just lasagna, Buck; don’t be dramatic.” You took a place near him, and you both started to eat your food. 

“I’m not being dramatic. I already told you that, besides my ma, you have the best food in the world. I could’ve eaten it three times a day for the rest of my life and not gotten tired of it.” He took another big bite, moaning as the taste filled his mouth. 

“You’re making me blush. No one ever told me this.”

“That’s my intention, doll. What, none of your boyfriends complemented your skills? Because I would’ve put the ring on that finger way too fast.” You looked at each other for a few seconds until you noticed that he had already finished his portion. 

“Do you want more?” Ignoring his previous words, you stood up and took his plate to give him some extra food. The dress gently flew around your thighs, drawing Bucky’s attention to your legs when you turned around. “Anyway, what happened at work? You mentioned your boss.”

“Ugh, Pierce is a fucking dipshit. Everyone there hates him, but he has too much money, so we can’t do anything. Me and Steve have really been on bad terms with him since the first day. He tries to tell us how to do our work, but his head is so far up in his ass that he can’t even listen to what we say.” You returned to your place and put a plate in front of Bucky again. The frown took place on his face while he was talking about Pierce, so you put a hand on top of his without even thinking. 

“He sounds like a total asshole. I’m sorry that you guys have to work for him.” Bucky’s face softened at your action. He flipped his hand so he could interlace your fingers, and you felt the warm feeling all over your body. 

You both definitely felt something, but you still stayed silent, enjoying the connection. It was obvious that you had feelings for each other. It was just hard to admit out loud, and, honestly, Bucky was so scared that you might think that he did all of this just to get into your pants. Which is not true. Well, he doesn’t mind, but it’s not his only intention. He wants to treat you right and ask you out on a date. 

Back then, he felt so bold and offered to help you with the firewood with the hope of getting to know you better. Steve and Sam obviously knew about his new “work” and teased him about it all day long. Unfortunately, he still didn’t find the right moment to ask you out. Those times when he came to you on Friday evenings and you were watching him work in your cute dresses or little pajamas were Bucky’s favorites. You looked so soft, cozy, and domestic that he wished to see you like this every day. 

After the last piece of a chocolate muffin disappeared in Bucky’s mouth and he let out a moan of satisfaction, he sat in your kitchen with closed eyes and a smile on his face. 

“If I had to have a shitty day just to get this type of meal at the end of the day, I’m ready for it.”

“Bucky!” You laughed at his dramatic words. “You don’t have to have a bad day. I can feed you just because.” 

“Well, you said it yourself. Now you won’t get rid of me.” You both laughed. Then he suddenly got up and started to put plates in the sink. “You sit, and I’ll wash the dishes.”

“No, Bucky, that’s not how it works!” You got up and caught him by his bicep. Really hard and big bicep. 

“Yes, it is. You’re cooking, then I’m cleaning.” He tried to get away from your grip to turn on the water, but you only held him stronger, now with both of your hands on his arms. 

“Bucky.” When he was standing so close to you, you realized your size and height difference, and it made you shiver. You turned your head up to look him in the eyes. “You are my guest; you shouldn’t do this.”

“My mother taught me to always help women because they are not our maids.” He stepped a little bit closer. “But if you’re saying this only because you want me to leave, I can do that.”

You were both looking at each other, and what you saw in his eyes made you weak in the knees. 

“No, no, I don’t want you to leave.” Your hands moved higher and fell on the sides of his neck. It was everything Bucky needed to finally kiss you.

Two large and rough hands took your face to bring your lips closer to Bucky’s height. He was gentle yet so passionate, and he slowly moved his lips against yours. It was mind-blowing how desperately you wanted him to devour you, to destroy you. While your hands were discovering his broad chest and shoulders, you felt that your body was suddenly lifted in the air and then placed on the kitchen counter.

Now that Bucky didn’t have to lean over to your height, it was easier to kiss you properly. His tongue brushed over your lips to ask for entrance, which you happily gave. Bucky felt too addicted to your taste, your smell, and the feeling of your smaller body against him. It drove him crazy.

“I've wanted to do that since the day I looked at you.” The hands on your hips tightened and moved you closer to his body. “You look so pretty, God.” Bucky’s eyes are running all over your face, trying to memorize every little thing.

“Bucky...” You dragged him closer again, desperate to connect your lips. His large hands wandered all over your body, slightly pulling up your dress and then moving higher and cupping your breasts in them. “I thought you were tired.” His large erection was obvious through his jeans, and you wanted to tease him. 

“I’m never tired for you, doll.” He mumbled against your lips. “I could’ve fucked you right on this table, but I’ll leave it for the next time. Where’s your bedroom?” You didn’t miss the promise to fuck you again, and your body felt ecstatic just because of this thought.

“Up the stairs, second door from the right.” 

Bucky didn’t say a word before your world suddenly moved, and you ended up hanging from his shoulder. Your bare ass was probably right near his face, and you couldn’t help but blush. 

He stormed up the stairs with one hand on your thigh, as if your weight on his shoulder was nothing, and then walked into your main bedroom. 

You were thrown onto your bed, and Bucky stayed in front of you for a few seconds to remember this picture. Swollen lips, eyes full of need, a short dress that pulled up and showed a glimpsing of your white underwear. Yes, you were perfect, and only for him. 

“Come here, Buck.” You raised your hands in his direction, and he obediently climbed on top of you with a smirk on his face.

He sat between your legs, moving his hands up and down the soft skin of your thighs.

“Such a pretty doll for me, in this cute lil’ dress, mm?” His body was hovering over you, and when he found a zipper on the back of your dress, you ended up lying under him only in your white lingerie set in less than a minute. 

The pair of the most beautiful blue eyes devoured your naked body as soon as the piece of clothing was removed, and you had never seen a man look at you this way. Like you were the most beautiful, delicious, and priceless thing in the world. Bucky’s hands gently touched your body from the shoulders to your legs, and you swear that you heard a moan while he was doing it.

“Sweetheart.” He mumbled and leaned to gently kiss the soft skin of your belly, moving with little kisses higher until he reached your lips. “You’re killing me, you know that?” 

“Shut up and kiss me, Barnes.” It was impossible to think straight when his pretty face was right in front of you and his muscular body pushed you deeper into the mattress of your bed. He kissed you as you asked, but it didn’t last long before he pulled away with a grin on his face. You gently brushed his brown locks out of his face and tucked them behind his ears.

“So bossy, dollface... Do I have to fuck this attitude out of you?”

“Mmm, undress, and we’ll see what you are capable of.” You shot back at him, and he just moved away with a smirk on his face. 

In a few seconds, a red henley was thrown somewhere on the floor, and you were face to face with a body that was probably made by the Greek gods. Muscles on muscles, with tanned skin and freckles from the work under the sun. Now you wanted to climb him like a fucking tree.

“Like what you see?” His smirk became wider as he saw the look on your face: slightly parted lips and darkened eyes that were looking at him up and down. Bucky's hands went straight to the belt of his pants, and with the last movement, he was standing in your almost dark bedroom completely naked. 

You almost choked on your saliva when he pulled down his pants and boxers at the same time. He was thick and long, with an angry red head. 

“No way this is gonna fit me…”

“It will, doll. I’ll take care of it. I bet this pretty little pussy will just suck me in.” 

It was over for you. You knew that. A handsome, respectful man with a perfect body and dirty mouth? Yes, he can do whatever he wants with you.

He returned to your bed, sitting in between your spread legs. He didn’t waste any more time when he reached behind your back and unbuttoned your bra. Bucky stood on his knees so perfectly that his dick landed on your covered pussy, and it made you both moan out loud. 

“Look at this, doll. ‘M gonna destroy her.” His hips slightly moved, and because your panties were soaking wet, it was so smooth and perfect. “Can you imagine that? I will stretch you out so well that I’ll ruin any other men for you. Make you–and her– mine.” He reached with one of his hands to your tits and squeezed your nipple between his fingers, while the other one was keeping your legs apart so he would be able to move his hips. 

You tried to close your legs by instinct. The tip of his cock again and again brushed right on your clit, and the slight pain from your nipple made you desperately moan and clench your bedsheets.

“Are you going to cum, pretty girl? Im not even inside of you, and you’re already a fucking mess.” Bucky’s rough voice was so sexy that it made you even wetter, if that was possible. He saw that you were close: by the way your breathing changed and how your eyes rolled back in your head. “C'mon, just let it go. Soak those panties even more.” His movements on your most sensitive parts of the body didn’t stop, and it threw you over the edge.

You were squeezing around nothing, and the most inappropriate and dirty moan escaped your mouth. It was something that you'd never experienced before, and it was so intense that you needed some time to get over it.

“Good girl.” Bucky grabbed your face and connected your lips, giving you another wet and sloppy kiss. 

Then, without hesitation, Bucky’s hands took off the last piece of your clothing, leaving you completely naked for his hungry eyes. He stared at your body up and down for a few seconds and then closed his eyes to take a deep breath and calm himself down. 

“Bucky, please, I need you so much.” You almost cried, trying to grab him and put his body on top of yours, but Bucky was much larger than you, so it was almost impossible.

Bucky finally calmed down a little bit, and he interlaced his right hand with your left, pinning it above your head. His body softly landed on you, and skin-to-skin contact sent shivers down your spine. He was now looking you right in the eyes, and judging by his facial expressions, he either wanted to fuck you lifeless or cuddle and hold you closely.

“Tell me if it’s too much, okay?” Bucky’s soft side came out again, and you slightly nodded, giving him permission to continue. The little silver square appeared in his hand out of nowhere before he ripped the package with his teeth and put a condom on. 

You honestly tried to hold back the little bit of disappointment you felt when he decided to use protection. It was smart. You weren’t longtime partners, it was a question of your safety. But the tiny voice in your head told you that you would’ve let him fuck you without it. To feel his perfect d–

Your thoughts were cut off with a deep chuckle. “You look like you’re sad that I put on a condom, doll.” You swear that his eyes darkened when you stayed silent. “If you want it later, I’ll fuck you raw, ‘kay? But now neither of us can think straight.” 

“Are you a perfect man?” You laughed.

“I don’t know, let’s find out.” Your smile faded as soon as you felt the head of his dick at your entrance.

You were still sensitive from your previous orgasm, so when Bucky started teasing you again, rubbing you up and down to cover himself in your slick, you nearly lost it. 

“Bucky, please.” You whine, grabbing the side of his torso with your free hand. “Don’t tease me, please, I can’t—” 

Your words died as Bucky finally pushed inside of you. Your head fell deeper into your soft bed, and Bucky’s body tensed on top of you, trying to hold back a deep moan. 

It was overwhelming. He stretched you out so deliciously that you felt pain and inexplicable pleasure. No one ever made you feel this way—like you were on cloud nine and the man on top of you didn’t even actually fuck you yet. 

“You’re squeezing me so hard that I might cum like a teenager—fuck!” He groaned, squeezing your hand harder. “Relax, baby, I’ll take care of you.”

You tried to relax as much as you could with a dick buried deep inside of you, and Bucky was finally able to move.

Well, if it felt good earlier, then the first movement of his hips probably sent you right to heaven. Bucky cupped your face with his left hand, locking your eyes together, when he started thrusting at a slow pace. 

“So pretty for me, doll. You feel my cock in your stomach, huh?” Bucky’s lips almost touched yours when he talked, but it felt like he was too far away from you. “Good girl, take me so well. Knew that this pussy would be my death.” 

“More... harder, please, fuck me harder.” You spoke in between moans, gazing intently at Bucky's pretty face.

He started fucking you harder. Your bed was slamming your wall, but it didn’t bother you as much as the fact that he was hitting your G-spot with every thrust. You were a fucking whining mess under him, with a slightly open mouth and a drunk-looking face.

“Suck it like a good girl you are.” His thumb slipped into your mouth, and you moaned, doing as he said. “Your pussy is already sucking the shit out of me. Are you going to cum, baby? Going to make a mess on my cock while I fuck you? Imagine if I fucked you raw and filled you up with my load. I bet you’d like that.” The finger went deeper into your mouth, making you gag. You nodded your head as much as you could at Bucky’s words because you were already ready to cum.

“Give it to me, baby.” Bucky growled, sucking on your neck. His hips slammed into yours, making the nastiest noise, but it turned you on even more. A finger slipped out of your mouth, and Bucky’s face was in front of you again. “Fuuuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“M-m, B-bucky! Don't stop, pl– ahhh!” The wave of the best orgasm of your fucking life washed over you. You swear the stars started dancing behind your closed eyes as you endlessly squeezed Bucky’s cock and his body.

The way you were moaning, how your eyes rolled back, and how your whole body trembled pushed Bucky over the edge. A few last movements in your soaking wet pussy and he came, feeling almost lifeless, as if you had sucked the whole energy out of him.

He let go of your hand, which this whole time he held above your head, and cupped your face with both of his hands, kissing away the tears you didn’t even notice.

“Y/N? Baby? Are you okay?” He whispered and moved your head a little bit so your eyes were directed at him. You looked like you were high or really drunk, but he couldn’t argue with the fact that you were the prettiest woman on earth.

“I– it’s like I don't feel my body anymore.” You lazily mumbled and closed your eyes. “No one ever fucked me like this.” 

“Glad to hear that, doll.” Bucky leaned closer and kissed your soft lips with more delicacy and tenderness. “Do you need anything? Food, water, bath?”

“No… Can you just hug me and stay here for the night?” You asked, now afraid that he would leave since he got what he wanted.

“Sure, just let me get rid of this thing, and I’ll still get you some water.” He kissed you on the forehead before carefully untangling his body from yours. You hissed at the new empty and a little bit aching feeling inside of you. “I’m sorry, baby.” 

Bucky threw a condom in the basket under your table and, putting on only his boxers, came down to the kitchen to get you a bottle of water. But when he came back, he saw that you had already fallen asleep.

You looked so cute—still naked, with a peaceful expression on your face, laying in the middle of your messy bed. He thought about whether he should disturb your sleep or not, but you asked him to stay, right? Bucky hesitated for a few seconds, but then came closer to you, placed the bottle on the nightstand, and carefully scooped you into his hands, pushing away the covers. He put you back down, and then you opened your eyes. 

“C’mere…” You mumbled, still sleepy, and grabbed his hand.

Bucky quietly chuckled and got under the cover, hugging you from the back. You happily sighed before drifting back to sleep. Bucky kissed you in the hair, hugged you harder, and fell to sleep with you in his arms.

You woke up a little bit disoriented, trying to figure out what happened last night. 

The bed beside you was empty, but the aching feeling between your legs proved that it wasn’t a dream. You, in fact, fucked your hot lumberjack neighbor. But where did he go?

You found some random oversized t-shirt and walked down the stairs. Everything was silent; your kitchen was empty but crystal clean. Did Bucky just leave? 

Wait a minute. 

Yesterday there was a mess from your cooking and dinner with Bucky.

Now the room was almost shining. 

You looked around in confusion until you noticed a piece of paper on the table. 

All of your bad thoughts disappeared as soon as you read it, and you felt butterflies go crazy in your stomach.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #marvel smut #james buchanan barnes #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #lumberjack! bucky barnes

[churchyardgrim]

i didn’t intend to spend three hours today finishing the Baby’s First Trans Terminology guide for my mom’s well-meaning liberal friends who are asking her Difficult Questions about what i’ve been doing with my life, but that’s sure what i ended up doing! 

now i’m going to cram lunch in my face and pass out until gametime <3 

#what i MEANT to be doing today was rehydrating an irresponsible amount of dried mushrooms for the weekend's cooking #and also freezing all the veggies i won't be using in said weekend's cooking #and also distributing the meat i feed to the crows into freezer containers #but u know how it is when ur properly medicated for once #ur extremely productive! just not in the direction u meant to be hghdg

[insipid-drivel]

Baby Boomers had a cinnamon challenge they won’t talk about that may be the reason why toothpick-chewers in classic movies are seen as cool

My mother is 65 and right bang in the middle of the Baby Boomer generation, but she’s very cool and does her best to be and stay woke, keep up with shifts in vernacular, and takes care to do things like make sure she’s strict with getting pronouns correct, etc. Her meme game is a little lagging, and she only just discovered the cinnamon challenge. I was surprised to see her... not surprised. If anything, she seemed a bit pleased and said, “Yep, kids are still kids.”

I stared at her for a while. “What do you mean?” I asked her. She’s seen other ancient memes like planking and never had that reaction before. Seeing the cinnamon challenge was downright satisfying to her.

She looked me dead in the face and said, “Sweetheart, I grew up in a time when you could get crystal meth over the counter at the pharmacy. They were called diet pills then.”

“Whaaaaaaat.” I knew that Nazi Germany passed meth around like candy, but that was in the 30′s and 40′s. I had just figured it had been prohibited already in America by the time my mom was growing up. “Did you have a cinnamon challenge or something in school?” I finally asked.

She half-nodded and half-shrugged and said, “Similar. You couldn’t have candy or gum in school when I was growing up. It was about 1969 in San Francisco and parents were starting to limit cigarette smoking to kids under 18, too, so a lot of my school friends were squirming all day long with nothing to at least chew on.”

“What did they do instead, mom?” I asked suspiciously, because she would not bring this subject up after I had explained to her that the cinnamon challenge was dangerous because of how horrible it is to accidentally inhale it into your airways.

“Well... Back when I was in school, you could get cinnamon extract from the pharmacy. It was just cinnamon suspended in canola oil, and you could use it for cooking or treating a skin fungus. Stuff like that,” she explained. “So the boys at my school would take toothpicks and dip them in the cinnamon extract. That’s why chewing on a toothpick was so common back then. If you were trying to quit smoking or couldn’t have chewing gum, you could carry a little bottle of flavor extract about the size of a bottle of nail polish in your pocket and dip a toothpick in it. Then you’d have something to chew on that the teachers hadn’t banned, and you could hide them in your cheek easily.”

“So what did the boys at your school get into, mother?” I asked again. We were still on the topic of ridiculous memes. This had to go somewhere.

She smirked. “Well, after a while, the boys started noticing that the cinnamon extract from the pharmacy was spicy. It burned. So it started to get to be a challenge to see how many cinnamon toothpicks you could hold in your mouth at once. It got so bad that kids would get blisters and burns on their mouths from it, and you could tell if someone had a few of them tucked in their cheek in class because their face would turn red from the neck up like a cartoon.”

“Why have I never heard about this?”

She wasn’t done. “Finally, the teachers figured out what everyone was doing and it became a pretty big deal. Cinnamon extract started getting banned or restricted to adults. Then they banned toothpicks for sale to anyone under 18, too. That’s why it was a sign of being cool, particularly among guys, to walk around with a toothpick in your mouth. It either meant you had a fake ID or that you were 18.”

I stared at her for a long time. “Mom, why didn’t they just use hot sauce? It was California. Didn’t you have peppers?”

Without missing a beat, my 65-year-old mother replied, “Honey, we were white as fuck.”

#baby boomers #classic memes #prehistoric memes #cinnamon challenge #memes #white people things