#Especially bc I NEED to use up this sketchbook bc I Hate It

[cerealmonster15]

I forgot I drew this yesterday lol……

[opiopal]

MC who hates Lucifer’s guts, yet will go into his study or the music room when overstimulated by all the noise of the HOL. Like, they’ll plant a glitter bomb in his room, and after he’s done finally cleaning up MOST of it, he walks into the music room and sees MC sleeping on the couch listening to a record all peacefully. Or just like…the brothers will randomly notice MC goes missing and is found either spaced out in their rooms or fast asleep.

uhh…basically, an MC who is usually very loud and competitive, will get overstimulated by all the sounds and general loudness of the HOL, and later be found hanging out or asleep in the most random places.

this is so long I’m so sorry-

(Like sleeping in mammons car boot/trunk)

omg YES, but this has also got to be SO hard for mc like omg,

I am imagine them absolutely getting into it with Levi or S8n or literally ANY of the brothers over small things, mc is just digging for a challenge always. “I bet I could eat this faster” “I bet I could beat you in this game” “I bet I could win more money than you” Ect. Ect. but eventually they’re social battery runs out and they can’t help but curse their own behavior, so eventually they slowly separate from the chaos they had created and go into a quiet room, and honestly luci’s room would be so perfect for that. Who in the world would willing bother him in his office? ESPECIALLY when he’s working? Well Mc would, I can imagine Luci is just so used to his brothers going from plotting against him then switching up to needing their older brother, so he doesn’t really mind most of the time. Though he does think mc can be.. a little annoying, but there’s nothing he hasn’t seen when each of his brothers are all uniquely problematic. so typically when mc comes into his office silently, carrying headphones, or a book, or a sketchbook, he just motions for them to take a seat in one of the chairs he has in there as he turns back to the paperwork he was filling out. which they both just sit in silence as mc unwinds in their own way. Though mc makes sure to make it obvious they don’t do this bc they enjoy being around him,

“you know this doesn’t mean anything. Right?”

“of course mc,”

Though he smiles a bit when they aren’t looking.

with the other brothers I could imagine it just feels like another belphie is around whenever mc needs to chill, cause despite being such a loud and obnoxious creature, mc still somehow manages to sneak around so quietly that they wouldn’t have even realized they entered the room. honestly, maybe it’s just a me thing, but I think Beel would be one of the best people to just relax against. Like, I can only assume he runs pretty warm, and no one in the world could convince me he isn’t pudgy in a lot of areas, so he’s comfortable. And he doesn’t mind in the slightest! He’s used to his brother sleeping on his arm, so why would he care about mc doing it to? And he’s very good at sitting in silence…. However the constant chewing would probably add to the overstimulation lowkey, so if Beel is mc’s chosen unwinding person for the day, they might need to bring their headphones with them. belphie may also be a very good chilling out person, I could totally imagine he’d be a great weighted blanket if that’s what mc needs in that moment, if mc is also on the chunkier side he would also very much so look forward to it. To him it’s just like laying on a pillow, so he doesn’t mind in the slightest!(though he’s such a heavy sleeper I don’t think he’d care if mc was a bit on the skinny side, honestly any discomfort will be forgotten the second he closes his eyes lol) though I’m sure he’d be asleep for way to long and mc may have to fight to be freed of him, so if mc decides they need their living weighted blanket and they have plans later.. they’ll probably have to cancel their plans cause they’ll be there till dinner.

I think the most optimal people for mc to hang around would be the older three tbh, Luci would know when mc just needs silence and he’s more then happy to give that to them as long as they reciprocate said silence. mams would probably be baffled the first time he just finds mc hanging out in his room, either drawing or taking a nap, but he makes sure mc’s peace isn’t disturbed, like he’d actually be willing to fight off his brothers at the door because he know his human needs their silent reading time. So there’s no way in the three realms he’s going to willingly let their peace be disturbed because asmo wants to go shopping or the anti Lucifer league wants to plan a prank! They can forget about it until mc is ready! And honestly, Levi would probably be the greatest, he knows what getting overwhelmed often is like so he understands that mc just needs to do their thing.. but he is absolutely honored and crying on the inside because they chose him!! So he makes SURE his room is in the perfect condition for mc to hang out in, he gets his good headphones out so then mc can’t hear his game or anime, he lets them know they have free access to his mini fridge(he totally has one guys idc if it’s canon or not, he literally lives in his room he totally has a fridge of snacks, soda, and water) and he’d probably very shyly get them a sketchbook, or a box of yarn for crotchet, or literally anything they usually do when they need to relax that’s just in their own spot in his room. though giving the other two some love, I know that asmo would absolutely do some like, calming skincare face massage stuff, basically if mc needs a silent spa day amso is absolutely willing to do such a thing with them! And though he understands that’s not what they always need, he does get a little bummed when mc doesn’t go to him for detoxing. But he gets it! Go to ur thing pookie!! and with s8n, he’ll always have a book and a spot on his bed for mc when they need it, he’s good at being quiet and obviously he wouldn’t need to fight anyone off from entering his room, since it’s the same deal as luci’s office. Unless someone has a death wish, they’ll stay out of his room, even if mc is in there.

[undeadboyfriendsupportgroup]

Throwing in some headcanons for the season 1 Archive gang

(As always, these are just silly goofy fun, not meant to invalidate anyone's characterization of the archive folks, we're in season 3 so if any of these contradict with canon, it's probably bc of that or memory failing us/personal preference sooooo, lesgo)

cw: alcohol (very lightly mentioned) and spiders

Jon:

-Jon tends to wander when drunk, it's a good idea to keep an eye on him. He's gotten lost in campus during his college days but always comes back unharmed (somehow).

-He thought his grandmother made up grass allergies to keep him from getting into dangerous places as a kid but his family has a genetic grass allergy, nothing fatal but recently cut grass does make him v itchy when it touches bare skin.

-He uses pen grips, i think he's developing arthritis so he owns some comfortable rubber ones. There are a few bite marks on em, but if you confront him he will gaslight you

-Jon's bones also crack very easily, when he gets up you can hear it. It gets worse throughout the seasons

-Jon uses transparent nail polish. He started doing it to avoid nail biting but started the habit of chipping it off. In college he wore colored nail polish but he ditched bc he doesn't consider it v professional on himself.

-He's a responsible sunscreen user, he applies it whenever he needs to be outside but he uses a regular drugstore one since i don't think he believes in skincare being a thing. IN THE SAME VEIN: he doesn't think that body wash works, he only believes in soap.

-He had a bowlcut as a kid.

-He gets shorter by 1 inch per season.

-Jon, even though very good with tech, prefers to do things on paper because he likes the feeling. He prefers pencils over pens, but uses pens because they are more professional

-Jon would love smash burgers, i'm not giving more context.

Sasha:

-Sash started training a couple years ago to improve her posture (she tended to go shrimp while doing deskwork) and now she could crush a lemon with a single hand. She and Tim go to the gym sometimes and she can lift way more than him

-To counteract the smash burger hc above, she would love Shake Shack.

-She's scored pretty high on IQ tests every time she has to take them but she doesn't believe in their validity.

-She used to go spelunking on internet forums a lot.

-I think she would have enjoyed well planned ARGs and things that involved solving mysteries before it became her full-time job to deal with horrors.

-Sasha owns comfy shoes she wears in the office. Wearing heels during a whole workday isn't worth it and she knows this.

-Shes a bit of a stationary fan, she would have all of the really nice highlighters and notebooks

-She chews her lips pretty often, especially when she wears nice chap sticks

-She likes furbies.

Tim:

-He hates furbies and dolls, truth be told it is more fear than hatred.

-He's been on commercials as a kid at least once. Somewhere on youtube there's a bubblegum commercial with a preteen Tim on it and Jon found it while looking for background info about nearly everyone in the archives in season 2.

-Tim has a small collection of fucked up Rubik cubes. He has a knack for solving them, the more alien-looking, the better. He finds solving puzzles stimulating but also gets fed up with them easily. Having something to do with his hands helps him think.

-He's an excellent draftsman, took an art course pre college and he indulges in it every now and then. He has no issues with people looking through his sketchbooks and all of the building facade sketches he has there. He's the kinda guy to sketch random people he sees in public and all of the archives gang has been drawn by him before

-He would love cockatiels, but he doesn't own any animals. He birdwatches quite a bit and has books/a special sketchbook just for birds/landscapes. He also purple columbine flowers, even though he is really bad with plants. He's foraged before but he ended up in emergency care bc he fucked with something he shouldn't have XD

-Tim got his tongue pierced some time ago, it suits him well.

-Will absolutely WRECK you in karaoke and then act like he isn't that good after (he was a theater kid)

-He's the most seasoned traveler among everyone in the archives. Tim's ideal vacay would be going around the world

-He would have enjoyed streaming games as a hobby (am i bringing up Mike LeBeau? probably. In a different world we would have Tim playing The Sims 2 with all of the mods on Twitch). He's also had pink hair before!!

Martin:

-He's a bit of a polyglot to me (so far The Eye makes you understand other languages but it doesn't give you proficency over them! That's all his own talent)

-Mart's worked at a blu-ray rental before the Institute. He came out of that job decently well-versed in 80's-90's movies. He's the opposite of a film snob and probably loves The Princess Bride and other bangers

-Martin's the kind of person that would cut an apple for you but he'd eat a tangerine with the rind on without hesitating. After you have a fight with him he brings you cut fruits and crackers

-He also writes prose and has finished nanowrimo during company time.

-Martin wears graphic tees under shirts under sweaters at work, but for very nerdy and obscure things

-Martin does the little dinosaur hand things often when he is walking, heh

-He's kept house spiders in glass jars with little holes and fed them bugs. Many of those spiders gave birth inside those jars. He's moved places a couple times as a kid so he's probably responsible of scaring a landlord or two by greeting them with a roomful of spider jars (and it was deserved).

-Martin owns tea pets!! He shares a cuppa with them every now n then

[mxdotpng]

what is an oc if not traits of yourself thrown into a blender and turned up on max speed

[iraprince]

this might not be something you personally have difficulty with, but i was recently diagnosed with severe adhd and i was wondering if you had any tips regarding just like….drawing?? i have such a hard time getting started even though i usually end up feeling pretty stoked and happy with my work if i manage to get something down. i used to draw constantly as a kid to help me focus in class, but in my adult life i just feel like there are so many invisible barriers between myself and putting pencil to paper. i’m sure there are a lot of perfectionism issues involved as well, so i guess just any sort of advice in any of those areas would be greatly appreciated! your work is fantastic and i’m really grateful that you share adhd stuff as well!! have a great day! :o)

i actually have a LOT of difficulty with this -- i have more difficulty than i have advice, probably! but my advice always ends up boiling down to the same thing lately, and it sounds really hokey but i mean it as literally as possible bc it's the only thing that consistently works for me: be fucking nice to yourself!

for a long time the only solution i had to being Inexplicably Unable To Do Something was to yell at myself, bully myself, assume that i wasn't trying hard enough, and end up a miserable little ball of confusion and frustration. it was def worse before i was diagnosed, but it's definitely not gone (sometimes "i don't know why i can't just do it!" just gets replaced with "well, i know what the problem is, so why can't i find a way around it?!"). and after many many years of experience with the bullying reaction vs a much shorter time comparing this reaction to other, kinder approaches, i can say with a lot of confidence that handling it with internal yelling and shaming doesn't work, straight up. it's not helpful, and most of the time it makes things worse -- even if you manage to force yourself to complete a task once or twice like this, it's too exhausting and demoralizing to be sustainable. so, while you haven't mentioned frustration in your question, that's still where my mind goes as a first step: if you're experiencing distress or anger or embarrassment over running into those barriers over and over again, the first step is practicing being calm and forgiving, not immediately trying to find a way around it. once you hit the wall and you find you can calmly go "oh, okay! this isn't working. let's figure out why" instead of immediately launching into "what the fuck is WRONG with me????", finding solutions is a lot easier.

the times i've surprised myself by having things just suddenly Flow after a long period of struggling are usually brought about by a ton of excitement and enthusiasm! i get really into a rarepair and i'm gripped with the need to make my own content, or i make a new oc who i really love, or i get back into a piece of media i haven't touched in a while and get all charged up with excitement. you gotta feed the tank to make stuff, so setting time aside to consume stuff that inspires and excites you is just as important as setting the time aside to actually sit down and try to draw.

another thing that has helped me is trying to be really purposeful abt reminding myself WHY i draw; sometimes, especially since it's my job, the images i'm supposed to be making just turn into this big featureless stack of Tasks instead of me really thinking about + appreciating what i do and why i love it. when i'm in a rut with commissions, for example, sometimes before i even try to start working (or if i HAVE tried to start and it's just not happening), i stop and sit down with the wips and really LOOK at them. i go through them one at a time and point out things i like about them or what i'm looking forward to doing: "the pose came out so good on the first try and i want to see what it'll look like finished," or "detailing all this hair is going to be so fun and relaxing." when you get so caught up in the constant repeated thought of "i just want to DO something, i want to DRAW," especially when it's been days or weeks or months where you can't, i think you can unconsciously start replacing "i want to draw because it's fun and i like what i make" with "i want to draw because i keep failing to and i just want to prove i can still do it," and for me the latter thought is usually way more distressing than it is motivating.

and finally, a failsafe: sometimes, when i can remember to do it, my secret weapon is counting down at myself for the tiniest steps possible. like i'll literally say out loud, "on the count of five, i'm going to stand up and go get my sketchbook. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5...." it has to be out loud and i think the reason it works is because like. if you say it out loud, reach five, and you don't do it, you feel astronomically goofy??? and then i just go from there: "on the count of 5, i'm going to find an empty page." "on the count of 5, i'm going to start sketching a head." it kind of forces through the executive dysfunction in a way i haven't really been able to replicate with anything else. it doesn't always work in a super meaningful way -- like, plenty of times i do like three steps and then i'm like "i hate this and i don't want to and i'm not gonna make anything good like this so i give up!" and then i just take the L for the afternoon. but when the "frozen in place, literally cannot stop just staring at the page" thing is the main issue, it might be enough of a push to get going!

as always here's me going "oh oop no i dont have a lot sorry" and then rambling for paragraphs and paragraphs but by now we should be used to that. good luck, and remember 2 be patient + nice :D

[neurodiversebones]

noo I'm so sorry to hear that I've not had a great week either

how do u think everyone in the lab copes with people having bad days and things? like are there certain things people do to help and things?

hope u feel better soon :))))

i hope your week gets better as well !!! my day certainly got easier when i got home tysm :'-) i like this ask a lot !!!

brennan is obviously not . the queen of healthy coping mechanisms but she is getting Better- she is learning to accept that sometimes when things are bad she just needs to Rest, and everyone is perfectly okay with that because it means that she isn't overworking herself to the point of burnout anymore . girlie can straight up sleep for 10+ hours and absolutely nobody is going to stop her .

booth is also not ,,, a Winner when it comes to coping (he is an addict obvi- gambling used to be his go-to) but he is also getting better at it !!! his favourite way to feel better is doing things for others- acts of service is his love language and it makes him feel much more grounded after a rough day to cook for his loved ones, run an errand for someone who's stressed, buy a gift for one of his friends . making people happy makes him happy !!

art is of course angela's go to coping mechanism- during hard times, she goes through like . a million sketchbooks . everyone can tell when she's not doing well based on her art- when she's happy, it's brighter and freer. when she's doing poorly, her art is more restrained, it looks colder . her friends are very good at taking care of her when she's doing badly though, as she's bad for forgetting to eat and sleep .

hodgins as we know . has issues with anger- but he is getting better at Talking about his feelings . he doesn't quite know how to describe or explain his feelings yet, but he's learning, and his loved ones (especially angela) are always happy to listen to him bc tbh thats . all he needs .

cam needs Comfort but hates asking for it, so people have gotten fairly good at telling when she needs it . arastoo especially- whenever she's extra stressed, long cuddle sessions, a warm bath, and lots of sweet words and just general Softness are his forte . being taken care of is something that she Needs but avoids- a manifestation of her control issues ofc </3

[chrisevansgoodgirl]

killing peggy carter

summary: you want revenge bc steve’s a bitch. (happy times, save for steve’s disappearance. everyone’s alive tho)

warnings: a darker steve. rough smut, a little questionable at times. a lot of angst bc i was in a mood.

pairing: steve rogers x reader, peggy carter x reader for a sec, and some steve x peggy ( 🤢 )

word count: about 9,800

a/n: not tagging anyone bc no one asked for this, i literally just wrote it like forever ago and decided to post it bc i haven’t posted in forever. also, if you go back far enough on my blog, you will see that i watch riverdale and honestly, i came up with this title before jughead wrote his emo story in the finale.

When Steve left, it was nothing short of devastating.

Your world had stopped. How could it not? You had been under the impression that someone was in love with you as much as you were in love with them. And god, you were so damn in love with Steve Rogers.

It had been a year and it still hurt just like it had that first day. You were better at hiding it now, using that as the only entertainment in your life. Being an Avenger wasn’t the same as it used to be. The world was good, you weren’t needed. Especially not while all these feelings of anger and resentment were growing inside you.

When Steve left, he took a lot. He took your heart, your soul, your fucking will to love and let yourself be loved, and he took your ability to be a hero. No hero had the darkness you had. No hero stayed out most nights dancing in sweaty and noisy clubs, being groped by strangers she couldn’t even take home because she was the definition of damaged. You had trust issues for days, and they weren’t going anywhere any time soon, if ever.

Bucky tried to help and sometimes, you had the energy to fake it. It always made him so happy to see you smiling or just talking to other men who clearly were attracted to you. But nothing would come of it. You couldn’t believe a word that any one of them said.

Steve used to look at you, tell you he loved you, tell he needed you, that he couldn’t do any of this without you. Then he had the chance to go back to Peggy Carter and he took it in a second, no hesitation. He didn’t even say goodbye.

You stayed out on the lake for three months, figuring he’d just gotten tied up. He would come back, you told yourself that every night. What finally broke you was when Nat and Bucky sat you down and told you it wasn’t going to happen. You’d always known but with confirmation from the two people that knew him best, you had to face reality. He’d left you and he wasn’t coming back.

It was a huge hit to your self-esteem. Maybe if you had been prettier. Smarter. Stronger. Better. But you were just you. Petty, small, aching. Ironically, that was how he had found you as well. The Avengers liked to bring in team members who had already been through too much. You hadn’t realized how vulnerable your past trauma made you to their type of coercion. You would do anything any of them asked. With Steve, it was different. More. And he had always known.

There was this pain in your chest that never went away. Sometimes you woke up gasping in the middle of the night, usually after a nightmare. It was as if there had been a hand around your neck. But there wasn’t because you were as alone as anyone could possibly be.

You didn’t mind it anymore. Hell, it was the only thing that you still had left of Steve. You burned everything else and not even that made you feel better. This was all much to Bucky’s dismay.

You would never tell a soul that you couldn’t part with his sketchbooks, that you had them hidden in a box underneath your bed. It was no one’s right to know. This pain was your own, the only thing you still had possession of.

You hadn’t been touched in his absence, even by yourself. It reminded you of all those times he would kiss along your skin and sing praises to your beauty. Sometimes, you wished you were ugly. Sometimes, you wished you could just get so ugly that no one would even want to look at you.

But that was not the case. You were that beautiful, strong, and caring woman Steve had fallen in love with, so they claimed. You were their responsibility. Their project. They would get you through this if it was the last thing they did. Nat, Bucky, and Sam tried merely out of their loyalty to Steve. Tony followed that lead and that meant Peter tried as well as he could. Wanda, still consumed by her own lost love, attempted, but she was probably the only person who could see you for what you were.

Thrown out trash. Abandoned, sharp pieces that could and would cut anyone who tried to help. You hated all the rest of them for not seeing it. You hated all the rest of them because in their eyes, you were still Steve’s girl.

You no longer had a boyfriend, a family, or friends. He took all of that away from you. And one day, when you were so sick of having nothing to do but feel sorry for yourself, you decided that you were going to return that favor.

Steve Rogers deserved to be just as heartbroken and empty as you. It drove you crazy. He had been the one to pursue you. He had been the one to insist that you were his, even said you were the best thing to ever happen to him.

Talking Bruce into helping was laughably easy. You claimed to need closure. You claimed you just wanted to know that Steve was happy. You wanted to tell him you forgave him. Bruce hadn’t seen you look this happy in a long while so he did what anyone would and said yes.

You wanted to wait. Steve was always so sentimental, the anniversary of the day he met Peggy was probably a day of extreme affection in their house. He probably made her breakfast, bought her some piece of jewelry that she wouldn’t even like, and spent all day telling her how much he loved her. You wanted to crash the party.

Part of you wished there was another way to do this, but there just wasn’t. Killing Peggy was the only way to take anything from him, and you had these dark fantasies that he would then kill you in retaliation. What a beautiful way to go, you hoped he would strangle you. You hoped he would set you on his lap one final time, wrap his hands around your neck, and stare into your eyes until you were gone.

Peggy was a great person, that much you felt bad about. But hadn’t Steve practically murdered you? And you were a great person before all of this. An eye for an eye. Did he think you were just going to disappear? No, he wasn’t going to get away with this any longer. He wasn’t going to get his happiness after he had ruined your whole life.

You wanted some years on them, you told Bruce ten years. Steve would be just shy of 50. You wondered what he’d look like. When he left, he had just started to get some gray hairs. You could remember that morning vividly. You wouldn’t have noticed if the sun hadn’t been shining in through the blinds perfectly onto his blonde hair. He blushed about 7 shades of red, but you promised him you didn’t mind. Because you loved him. He said he loved you back. Like an idiot, you believed him.

You arrived in his time with little care to how you looked. You weren’t here for anyone but him. You didn’t mind that everyone was staring at you oddly because instead of some huge, ugly dress, you were wearing black pants, a low-cut t-shirt, and a leather jacket.

You did need a weapon, however. Guns were cowardly. Poison could be fun. A knife, though. A knife would certainly get the point across. You tucked it into your boot and then you were on your way.

You found Peggy’s house easily. Bruce had made sure you knew where you were going and what to do if they had moved or anything like that. You’d known they would be in the same place. You’d known Steve would want to live in this domestic, pathetic lie.

There was a window that looked into the living room. It was mid-day, you figured Peggy was at work. What did Steve even do? Was there a specific activity he liked pairing with all the pure nothingness he was doing while his best friend suffered in Hydra’s hands?

You saw him sitting in a recliner in what you assumed was the living room. His hair was almost all gray, he’d cut it much shorter. Like how he used to have it, before everything with Tony and Bucky. Like how he had it when you met him. His beard was just as light and he had a few prominent wrinkles on his forehead and around his mouth. But that was as far as his aging went. His arms were still huge, his shoulders so broad, and you had the strongest feeling that that ass had held up.

You were about to go in, make your presence known when you realized he was reading a book. Your favorite book. He must have taken it with him because that looked distinctly like one of your many copies you hadn’t seen for quite some time.

You were furious, shaking and seeing red. No matter how hard you tried to breathe, you just couldn’t. You were going to cut Peggy’s heart about and show it to him. You were going to cover that ugly house with her blood. You were going to wreck him just as much as he wrecked you.

You watched Steve for three months and came to the harrowing conclusion that he was severely unhappy. Peggy would come home and they wouldn’t speak. They would sit down for dinner and say maybe five sentences to one another. They went to bed together, sometimes they had sex. You never stuck around for that because not only was that a major violation of her privacy, but damn, they were fucking boring.

When she woke up in the morning, he wouldn’t get up until she was gone. Then he would go for his run, you followed a couple of times as best you could to see if there was a piece of this puzzle you were missing. When he returned home, he would read or watch television, he went for a second run a few hours later, and returned home to do absolutely nothing but await her return.

Should this have made you happy? It didn’t. He would rather be unhappy with her than happy with you. But that was for one reason: his pride. He didn’t want to crawl back to you and admit that he made a mistake.

Your goals changed. You wanted to make him admit it. Not with words, he would never do that. But Steve was a faithful man. If you got him to stray, it would be indisputable.

You waited one morning until he was out on his run, then snuck into the house. You went through their kitchen, sometimes you moved things just to be a bitch. You went through their bedroom and discovered that Peggy had a terrible contraption that had the audacity to call itself a sex toy. That would be nice to throw in Steve’s face.

You tossed it onto the bed and got undressed as you made your way to the shower. Steve wouldn’t be gone much longer. And he would know something was very wrong when he saw your clothes.

You washed your hair, used Peggy’s soap, and only had to wait a couple of minutes after that. You heard him call out her name a few times. But then he got to the bedroom and you heard his steps hesitating.

“Peggy?”

He wouldn’t say your name, not ever. Because he could be wrong, he could be delusional. And to admit that he was still thinking about you after all this time, that was his idea of a loss.

You didn’t grab a towel as you pulled the shower curtain back and shut off the water. Dripping wet, you carefully padded across the tile floor and then out to the bedroom.

His eyes widened and he dropped to his knees. “What...what are you doing here?”

You shrugged, glancing around. “Thought I deserved a vacation.”

“Y/N, I am so—”

“Pathetic? Weak? Yeah, don’t worry, I know.” You moved closer to him, eyeing him pitifully. You were glad that you hadn’t crumbled. Months ago, you would have given anything just to hear his voice, just to see his fucking eyes. God, you hated him now.

“You’re angry, I understand.”

“Angry?” you scoffed. “Add dumb to the list.”

“I’m sorry that I hurt you—”

“You didn’t hurt me, you piece of shit. You destroyed me, you ruined my life. For all intents and purposes, you killed me. And I’m here to get my revenge.”

His eyebrows pulled together. “Revenge?”

You reached out to touch his face, trailed your fingers along his bottom lip. “Yeah, payback. I’m going to make sure I make you feel what you made me feel.”

He glared up at you. “Are you threatening me?”

“Yes.”

He finally stood, towering over you.

“Mmm, how I’ve missed this body.” You pressed yourself against him and as much as he acted like he didn’t like it, he never pulled away or tried to push you back. You were getting him wet and his shirt was starting to cling to his abs. You let your hands wander for a moment before they dropped down to his pants.

“Stop,” he said quietly.

And you did because you were never going to allow him to lie. Your turned up to him and stepped back.

He looked torn apart, confused. “Why are you here?”

You shrugged. “Why not?”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Well, it’s all you’re getting. You don’t need any other answer.”

“So, what’s the plan? How are you going to get your revenge?”

“I know you, Steve, I know that you believe in being a good and faithful man. I just want you to fuck me. That’s all.”

“Well, you know that’s not going to happen. You know I would never—”

“Cheat? So, then you’ve never fucked Peggy?”

“What?”

“You never left me, you never told me we were done. You, like the coward you are, just didn’t come back. Every time you’ve been with her is a lie, a cheat. You are a cheater.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?! You keep acting like there was just one thing! There were a million things, Steve. You ruined everything that we were building. And you can apologize all you want, but until I return at least half of it, I’m stuck here with you.”

“I won’t fuck you.”

“Yet,” you pointed out. “Well, I should be going.”

He grabbed your arm. “Go home.”

“I am home, baby. You’re here and you’re my home.”

He frowned.

You yanked yourself out of his hold, bending over to grab your clothing all over the room. He wasn’t going to fuck you but that did not mean he wasn’t going to look at you. So, you gave him quite the show, just like you had in the past upon his request.

You disappeared into the bathroom as if it was so natural, as if it was your own. He made no moves to follow and said nothing. As you dried yourself off, you decided now was as good a time as any. “See that terrible thing on your bed?”

You heard him step a few times, then nothing.

You scoffed. “Maybe it has to do with your age.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Still. Pretty creepy you came back to a much younger Peggy.”

“I came back to the one I left.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself.” You sauntered out and sent him one last smile before exiting the bedroom.

Peggy and Steve had a fight, so Peggy ducked out to some small diner. If you couldn’t get to him, you decided you were going to get to her. Peggy was sweet from the second you began speaking to her, feigning concern for her situation.

The first night you guys went out together, you wanted her to talk shit about Steve. She didn’t, she just got drunk and tried to get you much the same. You were taking her home because you truly were fearful of what would become of her without your help. And she kissed you. At first, you were startled, you pulled away out of fear and shock. She wasn’t Steve. In all your life since you’d met him, you never thought someone else was going to kiss you.

But then she looked terrified. Had she been reading you wrong? Had she messed everything up? Nah, you were adaptable. You kissed her back, explained you’d been hurt by some loser and it had been a while. She understood, or said she did, and then she was disappearing inside.

You were left wondering if Steve heard you, but not many lights in the house were on. He probably wasn’t home. Confirmed by your unlocked hotel door when you returned home just a couple of hours before sunrise.

Knowing it was him didn’t mean you weren’t going to pull your gun as you entered. He was sitting in one of the chairs at the tiny table near the tiny kitchen.

He arched an eyebrow. “That necessary?”

“I should have shot you the second I got here.” But you still tossed it onto the bed. “You know...this paints quite a scene, doesn’t it? You’re here, angry at me for being out late.” You let your purse fall to the floor, then your hideous cardigan. You had only shown up with one outfit, so shopping was necessary to keep up appearances. You didn’t know a lot about the 40s, but you didn’t want them to start burning women at the stake again because of you.

You made your way to him, straddling his lap as you took his face in your hands. “Are you upset that I broke curfew, daddy?”

He didn’t even bat an eye, but you knew that would get to him. “Where were you?”

“Out with your future wife.” One of many kickers, they had yet to get married. Peggy said it was because she wanted to wait. “Thought she would be willing to talk shit about you...thought it would make me feel better.”

“And? Did she give you anything you can use against me in the future?”

“Nah. She didn’t want to talk about you at all.”

He glared. “When are you going home?”

She shrugged. “Whenever I feel like it.” Your eyes moved over his face as you felt the deeply etched lines on his skin. “You don’t look 50 but I never thought... You remember when I found your gray hair?”

“Yeah... Thought you would leave me...that you’d want someone your age.”

“I like you like this, you know. Twice my age.”

“Have there been others?”

And just like that, the end of your friendly conversation. You pulled your hands away from him but stayed on top of him. “Others?”

“People...men you’ve let close.”

You scoffed. “Why would I do that?”

“I wanted...I thought you would move on.”

“People lie,” you pointed out. “You told me you loved me every day and then you just left. I can’t adequately explain to you how tired I am. I can’t do it again, I can’t even let myself try. I can’t get close to people the way I was close to you. I can’t move on. I can’t love someone else. I can’t do anything but hate you as much as I loved you.”

“I wasn’t lying—”

“You left. If you loved me as much as you said you did, you wouldn’t have been able to.”

“I do love you—”

You immediately pulled off him, rushing to get your feet back on the floor. No, no fucking way, he was not going to lie to you again. He was simply not allowed to anymore. You would not tolerate it.

“Y/N—”

“Get out of my hotel!” You pointed to the door. “Now, Steve, or I swear I will shoot you.”

He scoffed. “For what? Loving you?”

“You piece of shit.” You didn’t wait for him to say anything else. You stormed to the bathroom and locked the door before he could intrude yet again.

He knew you wouldn’t come back out, not while he was still there. All he could do was leave. For safe measure, he at least unloaded your gun and set it on the bedside table. Maybe if you had to find it and load again, you would lose some of your anger and not ended up taking a shot at him.

How dare he? He had no right to say that to you, no right to use that word. It meant nothing coming from him because there was the implied ‘but’ along with it. Before, he just loved you. Period. Now? He loved you. But what? He loved Peggy more? He loved this time more?

You thought you had been angry before. Even though the time you were spending with Peggy was diffusing that somewhat. Still, you never lost sight of what you wanted. Needed. The idea of Steve’s heartbreak was the only thing that could get you up in the morning.

He threw you off for a few days. Every time you tried to leave the hotel room just to do something a tad evil, you would end up in bed crying. Steve thankfully didn’t try to come back, you hated the thought of him seeing you like this, letting him know that he could still do this to you.

Peggy called. You gave her the number, just in case, and she used it to express her concern for you. It wasn’t like you not to want to hang out or to just be around and bump into her “randomly”. She invited you out for breakfast the first day, then lunch the next. You said you weren’t feeling well.

An excuse she stopped taking the third night. She wanted to go dancing with you, all while her asshole boyfriend stayed at home. How could you say no? You shouldn’t, this was the entire reason you were here.

You would kill her tonight. This time was a drag and you wanted to get home. To a place where you could wear pants or a t-shirt. A place where there weren’t so many preppy men in pastels or college sweaters.

Peggy picked you up, she wouldn’t stop staring. Had it been any other day, you might have even questioned why. But you weren’t going to enjoy this as much as you thought you would. It sucked, and honestly, it made you hate Steve even more. He was your downfall, he was also her downfall, but at least he would soon be utterly alone.

It had been hours. You were just trying to dance and let the music fill your mind, but this music was shit. If you had to hear one more man sing about wanting to hold a woman’s hand… Truly, you missed the filth of your time.

Peggy was the one that wanted to leave. Peggy was the one that wanted to walk away from all the noise of the city. Peggy was the one that took you to some sleazy motel, where she gave you the briefest of looks when she’d stopped you both on the sidewalk. She was also the one that kissed you when you didn’t say anything because what did you have to actually say?

Nothing. Not one thing. You had no idea how this plan had spiraled so terribly. You were meant to come here, kill her, throw it in Steve’s face, then bolt back home like none of it ever happened.

But you couldn’t kill her, not anymore, not after seeing what a miserable life she had with Steve. You hoped she would leave him, and not just to hurt him, but to help herself. You remembered the life she had in your world, the one she had created with your husband. It was so much better than the hell she was living in here.

So, you let her take you to a room. You let her kiss you, you let her tear your dress off, push you onto the bed, and crawl on top of you. Her lips moved everywhere over your legs, arms, and stomach, and they felt like fire because they belonged to someone who wasn’t Steve.

You hated how guilty you felt. You hated that your mind was seriously considering this a betrayal, cheating. But you were trying to be kinder to yourself. It wasn’t your fault that you had fallen so hard for someone and that you had made plans because someone had promised you forever.

She knew you were thinking about him. Not Steve, of course, but the someone you had once mentioned. She didn’t mind, she just promised she would try to make you forget. You forced yourself to be present, you turned off your mind when you could. She didn’t ask a lot of you, in reality.

She wanted to be on top, she wanted you to say her name and wouldn’t let you come until you asked nicely. It was probably around the third orgasm that you stopped feeling so awful, that all of those familiar sensations weren’t triggering memories and bitter resentment. That was what she gave you with her mouth alone and didn’t move until it was evident that your thoughts had simply melted away.

When she crawled back up to kiss you, she buried her fingers inside you. At that point, who the hell even was Steve Rogers? A distant, dull pain. Peggy was here, on top of you, biting your lip, telling you to come one more time, because she knew you had it in you.

She told you that you were beautiful, that she’d never seen a body like yours. She told you that you made her feel things Steve couldn’t, that you were fun and warm and kind, and she loved spending time with you.

You were covered in sweat, your skin painted with her lipstick and bites and other marks she left all over your skin. She hadn’t come yet and refused any offers you made her, she claimed she just wanted to focus on you for a moment.

When she finally pressed her soaking center against yours, you were in an odd amount of pain. You longed for something, so much, but you had no idea what. She pulled your hair, began kissing your neck, and rolled her hips hard. You pulled her hair back, pressed your hips up when she pressed down, whimpered her name, and told her she felt so good. It was when she started fucking you harder and faster, and you were getting really close once again, that you got the sick idea to rake your nails down her back. Hard enough to leave marks.

After her finish, she collapsed onto her side next to you. The way she looked at you was kind of scary, like you were worth a lot more than you knew you were. She also looked satisfied and you hadn’t seen that look since you’d shown up. And what a fucking crime that was. Yes, Steve was a dick, but fuck, that man could seriously fuck. Why was he denying her that?

You shoved her onto her back and sat on her face because you didn’t want to be thinking about him. She kept you there until you were shaking and so fuzzy you couldn’t even sit up on your own. A tad haphazardly, you insisted on getting your mouth on her. After some convincing on your part and a few pitying laughs from her as you nearly fell over the edge of the mattress because you were still dizzy, your tongue was sliding against her skin and her hands were locked in your hair.

She needed to get home, back to her boyfriend before he started to worry. You stuck around for a bit, reluctant to return to your apartment. Maybe this was it, maybe this was all you needed. Maybe it was just time to fucking go home.

You truly worried about all of the Bucky lectures you were going to get, all of those Natasha looks, those small ‘tsk’ sounds when Thor was not only upset but disappointed in you, the judgmental eyebrows Tony would be sending your way, and those puppy dog eyes from Peter. Goodness, you were sure Peter missed you. Bruce would never trust you again, no surprise there, you had lied to him. You hadn’t thought about the consequences of your actions when you first did this. You hated, at the time, that you didn’t care if you hurt anyone.

Game over. You weren’t going home not without having scored some points, but to win, you would just end up losing more. More, you now understood that you had taken all of it for granted. Yes, your friends were constant reminders of Steve and they had been acting like you were some mission they needed to complete, but at least they loved you. That was more than a lot of people had and you would let them know about all these epiphanies if they didn’t kill you as soon as you returned.

When you made it back to your apartment, it was only to get the necklace Wanda had given you a few years back for your birthday. It was this huge stone you never remembered the name of, something you rarely took off regardless of that.

The last thing you expected was to find Steve. He looked furious and maybe, just maybe, you were going to get the satisfaction of seeing that you hurt him before you left. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He was at the table again, jaw set, glaring at the wall straight ahead of him. You were trying to think if you’d ever seen him this angry, if you’d ever even heard stories of it. Probably not. He liked to act like you were so damn delicate. Though, maybe he had been onto something.

“Hey,” you snapped after receiving no response, “Why the fuck are you in my hotel room?”

Finally, he turned to you and for the first time ever, you were scared of him.

You kept your distance, you even began moving toward your bedside table where you had your gun stashed.

“I hope you’re not looking for this.” He reached down for a moment then tossed it onto the table noisily.

Shit. “Steve…”

“You fucked her.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He stood quickly, storming over to you. For a moment, you had been stunned, and it was enough for him to get several upper hands. It wasn’t as if he needed them to begin with, but with your delayed scattering back, he was able to grab you and pin you to the wall. You were completely defenseless in stupid, impractical heels and an ugly, impractical dress.

“Tell me you didn’t fuck her.”

You said nothing.

He scoffed harshly. “I fucking smelled you all over her…and now I smell her on you. You left those scratches on her back because you wanted me to know.”

“Honestly, I thought I would be gone by the time you found out or by the time you decided to confront me. In fact, if you leave now, I’ll be gone and you’ll never have to see me again.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“What? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

He didn’t say anything, instead, he grabbed the neckline of your dress and tore it open. He paid no mind to your startled shoving at his chest. His eyes moved over your skin quickly, you could tell he was getting angrier with every bruise he found.

You were going to play this off, bat away at his feelings just long enough for you to escape. “Steve, I—”

He grabbed your jaw and you immediately shut up. “Go take a shower.”

Your eyebrows pulled together.

“Now.”

“No, you fucking—”

“You can do it on your own or I can do it for you. But to be clear, I will not ask again, and I’m gonna count to ten before I really lose my patience. One, two, three—”

“Steve,” you tried softly. He was still holding you there, so tight that the idea of moving was laughable.

“Four, five—”

“Steve,” you were a tad more frantic, pushing at his forearm.

“Six, seven.” He finally pulled away from you and you bolted to the bathroom without a second thought. He told you to leave the door open and you listened because you no longer had the desire to push him.

You came out in a towel several minutes later. Most of your shower was spent just trying to calm down, the rest was using any product you had to try to get rid of her scent. You didn’t want to risk further angering him with any lingering mentions of Peggy.

He was just feet away from the door when you stepped out and once again, he showed no hesitation in ripping away what covered your body. He looked you over again, briefer this time, obviously displeased with what he saw. He’d hoped most of it was just the lipstick Peggy always wore.

“Are you wet?”

“What?”

“Your pussy. Are you wet?” He was condescendingly slow with every single word and your hand suddenly itched with the need to smack him.

“No.”

“Well, you’re a liar, so I don’t believe you,” he countered. “Check.”

“What?”

“Check,” he repeated. “Now. And if I have to keep repeating myself, you’re not going to like the way this night plays out.”

You averted your gaze as you brought your hand to your center. Your breath caught audibly as you ran your fingers through. Yes, he was an ass, but your body would never stop craving his touch.

“Show me.”

Begrudgingly, you brought your hand back to him.

“Wow, how did I know you were lying? Touch yourself. Keep touching yourself until you come.”

You snorted. “Eww, no—”

He slammed his hand against the wall behind you and you fell silent again. “The same rules apply. Do it or I will do it for you.”

He had never spoken to you like this. Sure, there were the bad missions. There were the times when he just needed to fuck you to forget all the shit he had to deal with. But there was never a moment where you wondered if he would lose control, if he would hurt you unintentionally. Right now, maybe it wasn’t so much that you thought he would. You had known him long enough, loved him long enough, that you knew exactly what kind of man he was. Maybe, right now, it was that you wanted him to hurt you.

Nothing could be worse than when he left you. Nothing he did was going to hurt more than when you went back home and you were, once more, without him. Meaning that you wanted to take everything that you possibly could from this moment. All the pain, all the bruises, all those emotional scars that would add to the ones from before that you had idiotically convinced yourself you could ever get rid of.

He knew you were considering your next move and arched an eyebrow at your continuing silence.

You shook your head. “No.”

One of his hands shot up to wrap around your neck, the other hand went to your cunt where he slid two fingers into you with embarrassing ease.

You brought your hands up to his forearm and dug your nails into his skin. The harder you scratched him, the harder he would choke you—it was something established early on in your relationship. And if he was choking you, you couldn’t moan or whine like he wanted you to.

For a moment, you both stayed still. For an entire second, it wasn’t that he had left you, that you had to track him down, that you fucked his girlfriend and he was fucking furious about it. For a second, it was just you and him, like it was all the times before.

The problem was pride. It wasn’t like before and neither one of you wanted to let the other pretend. He hurt you. You hurt him. Before no longer mattered. So, you shut your eyes and turned your face away from him.

He thrust his fingers just slightly harder than you would have liked, slightly harder than he would have liked. It would sting in the morning, but you wouldn’t hate it. Crescent-shaped cuts would be found everywhere on his skin and he would mourn that they were healing too fast. Both of you knew that this was it. The end.

You were wet, that obscene sound drowning out your choked noises. He absolutely loved this, loved you. He had thought being with Peggy again would make him feel like he was finally home. It took him so long to figure out that he was wrong, to realize that you were one of the few people that actually felt like home. You and Bucky, Nat, Sam, Tony, Wanda, Thor. Not Peggy.

And he could no longer pretend when he felt you tighten around his fingers. He was fucked up and he ruined things a lot of the time. It was just in his DNA, even the fucking serum couldn’t fix that. But prior to leaving, he’d never ruined anything with you. He hadn’t realized how much he missed fucking you because he always did that right.

“Open your eyes,” he ordered.

Instead, you pushed harder at his arm and turned further away from him. Your hips started to buck against his hand, and he knew you wanted this, but he knew you were not going to give in without some fight.

“Open your fucking eyes, Y/N.”

You were not going to. After all the hell he’d put you through? Fuck that, fuck him. You were never going to give him anything he wanted ever again.

He yanked his hand away from your pussy and grabbed your jaw to turn your face to him. He knew that wouldn’t work alone and in a move of desperation, kissed you. A move to get you to let your guard down—a weak move that would not work. As his knee came up to your cunt and you began grinding against it, he started biting your lip.

You buried one hand in his hair and started pulling harder than you should have. He released your jaw to do the same to you. This was much different than how he usually touched you. He’d always been rough, but this hurt, actually hurt.

You rode his thigh with no assistance from him. He let your face go and dropped your hair in search of another tactic. You were no longer kissing, you instead rested your head on his shoulder, eyes still squeezed shut. Even when he grabbed your ass painfully, and when he smacked you after all you did was scream. Even when he grabbed your breasts and pulled on your nipples.

You kept your eyes shut the entire time and he was growing furious. He wasn’t going to let you feel anything even resembling pleasure if you weren’t going to give into him. He pulled away and grabbed your hips.

You opened your eyes then, concerned about what he was doing to you next. He grabbed your shoulder and shoved you onto the bed before you could say a word. You were on your stomach, facing away from him, busy lamenting the loss of your finish. You heard him undressing as you attempted to regain your breath and composure.

He was on top of you before that happened, yanking your legs open before he crawled up, hands stopping on either side of your head. He wasn’t going to tease, he was going to fuck you like the brat you were—hard, mean, unforgiving. He lowered his hips until his cock was lined up with your entrance and then thrust in.

Your scream must have scared the hell out of the neighbors. You wouldn’t be surprised if the cops were being called right then. It wasn’t a pleasurable scream, you certainly liked that he was inside you, but that was just your body. Your heart ached in a way that it never had. You’d thought you were never going to feel him again, but it wasn’t some beautiful feeling of reconnection. You were at square one, you would have to crave his body all over again once this was over. You would go through those same agonizing withdrawals that had truly destroyed you those first few months.

Steve grabbed your hair again and shoved your face into the mattress. He didn’t care about taking it slow, making sure that you, his precious, sweet girlfriend, were okay. He felt just as torn up as you and he couldn’t afford emotional consideration when he was so fucked up. He only knew what he wanted, for you to look at him like you used to. He would do whatever he had to do to get it. Part of him didn’t care how low he would have to go. He wasn’t Captain America here, he didn’t have to live up to the same standards.

You blindly reached back to try to catch his arm, but your attempts never even touched him. He didn’t seem to care about what you were attempting, he just fucked you. He held you down as his hips slammed against your ass and he moaned loudly, shamelessly, selfishly. You finally caught a hold of his arm and used the heel of your palm to push, but since you were out of breath and had been for quite some time, you doubted that there was any real force behind it.

“Can’t breathe, baby?” he wondered, hips still snapping, the head of his cock reaching that delicious spot inside you.

You dug your nails into his skin even though it was an uncomfortable stretch and your muscles were screaming. You were screaming, too, despite everything, despite the lack of strategy in that, but this felt too good not to. You hadn’t been fucked like this in so long, this was what you knew you would never get from someone else. This deep, soul-level connection was a one-time deal. No one else was ever going to be able to give you this.

“If I let you up, you better fucking look at me. I’m not kidding, Y/N. I’ll fucking hold you down again until I fucking come.”

Once his hand lifted from your head, you turned up and gasped for air. It was a short-lived relief as soon as his hand pressed into your neck and angled your head back. It wasn’t that you were scared, and you should have been because you wholeheartedly believed his threat, it was that you were happy to have an excuse to give in. He was stronger than you, right? No one could blame you for giving in, hell, you were just trying to save yourself. Right?

Your eyes met his and his hips stuttered. A ragged breath fell from his lips, you felt it on your hair. That hard look in his eyes softened, he looked a lot like that man that had promised you he would come back to you.

“I love you,” he breathed.

Your eyes instantly filled with tears and you clamped your mouth shut. Both hands were buried in the bedsheets because you needed something to hold, something to tear at, something to destroy to cope with the burning anger that was consuming you.

“I’m sorry, I love you.” His body moved erratically against yours, desperate for all the things he’d longed for since he’d left you. The two of you were sick together, desperate, twisted people that proved it in bed. Peggy wasn’t like that and he was drowning trying to act like he was normal, like he was that same man that she had been with what felt like centuries ago.

He collapsed, chin pressing into the bend of your neck, and you felt his cum spilling into you. His arms wrapped around you, holding you tight as he rode out his finish. He didn’t stop, however, now he wanted to get you off. He wanted to feel those same pathetic, proud things he experienced whenever he played your body like an instrument.

You didn’t resist, what would be the point? You fucking deserved an orgasm, at the very least. You were ashamed to admit that you wanted it, needed it. You hadn’t honestly felt alive since he left you, but this reminded you what that was like.

He groaned when he felt you tightening around him, his hand wedging between you and the mattress to get to your clit. When he did, it was over and you crashed like a wave against the shore, and you saw stars, and you felt all those things you felt when you were happily in love with a man you thought loved you back.

So, in conclusion, you felt lies.

If he thought he could fuck reality out of your mind, he was sadly mistaken. You were coming down when your hand started sliding across the mattress. Your gun was not the only precaution you took—you’d known Natasha for years and she would strangle you if that was your only form of protection.

He was kissing down your spine when you located your knife, and he had just started to speak when you turned back and just stabbed. You had a general awareness of where he was, you knew you weren’t going to kill him, and you didn’t want to. You just needed to get away, before he started talking, apologizing, making more promises.

You didn’t wait to see where you stabbed, you simply clawed away from him until you could jump from the bed. He cried out and you heard him grabbing for you, but you couldn’t stop for anything. On your bedstand was the necklace you had shown up for, you grabbed it, along with your long coat and then you were on your way out the door.

Running around completely naked in the 40s, clutching a trench coat you knew you weren’t going to leave without, shoeless, dripping sweat and cum—you’d never thought your beautiful life with Steve Rogers would take you here.

A Bucky Barnes lecture was the last thing you wanted, but it was the only thing you would be receiving for probably several months. Well, when he was done with his silent treatment. He was furious when you returned, he didn’t say a word to you. Everyone else had completely fawned over you. They hugged you, pet your hair, told you how proud they were that you came home.

Bucky just stared at you and when they all parted so he could speak to you, he simply stormed out of Bruce’s lab. But yes, Bruce was a tad betrayed, your expectation on that had been correct. You apologized profusely and brought him coffee every day, several times a day until he stopped looking at you like a kicked baby animal.

Tony was disappointed, but not to Bucky’s extent. He simply could not fathom the hold Steve had on you still, told you as much. You admitted that you were wrong, and well, with Tony, that was really all he needed. He wanted to be right and he wanted you to tell him that you learned your lesson. To the untrained eye, he would look like a narcissist. But you knew him better, you knew he was just scared of losing you. Again. He merely wanted to know that you were sticking around and that was what you conveyed when you told him you had made a mistake going in the first place. He dropped it, like it never happened.

Natasha didn’t let you out of her sight for almost two complete weeks. She watched you and you felt her watching you, but she wasn’t going to pry. She was angry, but she was still handling you with gloves on. She wasn’t going to push you emotionally no matter how badly she wanted to. She also wasn’t going to ask questions, scared that prying would move you further away. You told her you saw Steve and that you got what you needed, she nodded, and that was the end of it. She still watched you, but she was slyer about it. She made sure you were in your room when she woke up and went to bed, but she took up Tony’s pretending routine as well.

Wanda didn’t need to ask anything; she knew because she read your thoughts. She knew because she had been outraged that you left without a goodbye, so she felt entitled to those thoughts. Not because she needed to know what happened but because she needed to know if you were going to try anything else again. She stopped being mad at you one day when you were making Bruce coffee. You hadn’t heard her, you were there in the kitchen, stuck in your own thoughts. She hugged you tight, didn’t say a word, but just like that, it was over.

Almost everyone had gotten over it in record time. You knew you were an asshole and you apologized, and you meant it, but even if you hadn’t, it wasn’t like they were ever going to hold it against you. Sometimes, knowing that, it made you feel worse because these people loved you and just like Steve had done to you, you hurt them. In the exact same way. You left.

Sam was in a much more difficult position. He felt a duty to you as one of Steve’s closest friends, but he also felt for Bucky. You’d really hurt Bucky and Sam could forgive you for being reckless, psychotic almost, even selfish. But the look on Bucky’s face when they discovered that you were gone was a hard thing to shake.

He stopped ignoring you after a couple of days, but the conversations were short, shallow. He didn’t ask about your time there and he didn’t ask about your feelings after. It was all small talk and polite conversation, it seemed like you barely knew each other at all. But sometimes, you would catch him watching you, like he was looking for signs of something that he couldn’t ask you. He wanted to know if you were still torn up by this Steve thing.

You were. You cried a lot, as if it happened all over again. Technically, in a way, it did. But you didn’t show them that, it was no longer their burden to bear. You had caused them pain when they tried to take yours away. You waited until you were alone or out of the tower, you cried quietly and quickly. You did not allow yourself those days where you would just hole up in your room. You were always awake early, asleep late, and you took care of yourself because you owed them all at least that.

You knew when Bucky was less angry, but you weren’t going to approach him. You were totally fine just waiting for him to let you know when he wanted to speak to you, which was one random morning after you’d finished sparring with Nat.

He was waiting outside the gym, muttered that he wanted to speak to you, and even Natasha had the good sense to get lost. It wasn’t going to be pretty, that much was clear. It was in his tone, his eyes, his tense posture.

He took you back to your room and ordered you to sit on the foot of your bed. He paced for a long time and you didn’t say a word or make a sound. When he finally looked at you, you seriously worried he might kill you. He was angry all over again, had worked himself up with his thoughts but you weren’t sure why entirely.

“Did you see him?”

You nodded.

“You talked to him.”

“About…everything? Um, no, not really.” There hadn’t been that conversation. Any attempts on Steve’s part were expertly diverted by you, with all your ill intentions and knowledge of how to get under Steve’s skin.

He nodded curtly. “So, this was for nothing then? You put me through all of this shit for nothing?”

“Bucky, I’m really so—”

He was storming out of the room before you finished your sentence.

You didn’t see him for two days, and when you did, it was clear again, you would be getting more silence. You told yourself you couldn’t be that hurt. You’d hurt him first, that meant he had the right to express his feelings even if that resulted in him not speaking to you.

Several days later, Bucky dropped his Winter Solider persona and became a worried, bitter mother hen. You were sick, it wasn’t something that you thought was a big deal. He’d come to speak to you again and with his enhanced hearing, heard you puking in the bathroom.

When you were done, he forced you back into bed and got Bruce. Bruce did the usual, it wasn’t as if anyone was worried, he was just too scared not to indulge Bucky. Speaking of, he was off in the corner of the room, claiming that you’d probably gotten some kind of time-traveling bug. He was being dramatic, and you became aware of what exactly had drawn him and Steve together all those years ago. Extra bitches.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Bruce assured. “Her temperature is fine.”

“Take her blood, test it for time-traveling bugs.”

You rolled your eyes, and because Bruce had heard of the Winter Soldier, he did as was directed. Even though you were pretty sure that Bucky wasn’t serious. Not completely. Once Bruce had the excuse of focusing on your blood, that left you and Bucky alone.

“Why did you even go?”

This was not going to go over well. “Um…I had a plan…”

“A plan,” he repeated. “To do what?”

“I was sort of…kind of, just a little bit, going to kill Peggy.”

His mouth dropped.

You rolled your eyes. “I know that was stupid—”

“You’re insane!”

You glared. “Bucky.”

“You didn’t do it, right?!”

“No,” you huffed. “I should have, would have been putting her out of her misery. He’s such a fucking tool.”

He dragged his hand down his face, holding his jaw as he leaned over in his chair and pressed his elbows to the tops of his thighs. He was silent for a very long time before saying, “Yeah…he is. Did he hurt you?”

The bruises had been painfully obvious, there was no way to hide them, and you knew they could all guess what they came from. You felt your skin getting hot as you shook your head. “No. He wouldn’t do that, Bucky.”

He scoffed. “I thought that…but he did leave you and I never thought he could do that.”

“He’s…not different,” you claimed. “Just…”

“A fucking tool.” He nodded. “I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“No, I’m really sorry, Bucky. I’m not just sorry for leaving and upsetting you. I’m sorry for everything, I’m sorry that you wasted months trying to make me feel better and then I just left. I’m sorry that I took you guys for granted, I’m sorry that I didn’t know how fortunate I was to have people who love me as much as you guys do. I know I betrayed your trust so it’s not going to mean much, but I will never do anything like that again.”

His eyes flit up from the floor to your face. “I do love you. So fucking much. You’re my only connection to him. And you left and I didn’t have that, I didn’t have you and I didn’t have him, and I was just…lost.”

You felt those familiar pricks in the back of your eyes, but you told yourself not to cry, you didn’t have the right. But just as soon as his eyes filled with tears, you couldn’t hold back your own anymore. He practically flung himself off the chair to rush to you, arms wrapping tightly around your shoulders.

You weren’t sure how long you both stayed there, just clinging to each other. This felt like the end of all the tension, though. This felt like a fresh start and you and Bucky were just going to have to move on without Steve. You pondered that for a while. You would have to try to find him a girlfriend or a boyfriend so he wouldn’t try to find you someone. It was going to be a little give and take, probably a major power-struggle every now and then, but it was going to be good.

The only reason you two pulled away was because both a frantic Bruce and Natasha ran into the room. They’d made all the noise two people could possibly make as they did so, crashing into each other because the doorway wasn’t big enough for the both of them.

They were wide-eyed, out of breath, both looking like they had just seen a ghost. But a much different ghost since they both regarded one another with a look of confusion.

“What is it?” Bucky demanded. “Wait, she doesn’t really have a time-traveling bug, does she?”

“Oh!” Bruce scoffed awkwardly, “I’d say so!”

You narrowed your eyes. “What the hell does that mean?”

“That can wait!” Natasha declared.

“No, it certainly cannot!” Bruce insisted.

These were two people who were normally soft-spoken, not because they were meek or soft in any general sense—hello, Black Widow and the Hulk—but in that they didn’t like drawing so much attention to themselves.

As they both started hissing arguments back at each other, Bucky sighed.

You glanced at him and he shrugged at you in response. Things were all better one second, but the very next, the world was ending.

Both Bruce and Natasha turned back to you with resolute looks on their faces. Natasha only spoke loudly this time because she was hoping to yell over Bruce, “Steve is back!” And Bruce yelled in a completely indelicate manner because he was shocked, horrified, extremely concerned, “You’re pregnant!”

Oh, shit.

Natasha and Bruce took a second to process what the other said and then gasped, turning to one another to share a look. They faced you again and decided to repeat the news only, Bruce screamed about Steve being back and Natasha more so framed it as a shrieking question you’re pregnant?!

You glanced at Bucky.

His jaw was set, his eyes narrowed just slightly. He merely nodded once then stood, throwing his hands up in the air. “Well, I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

Yep, the world was most certainly ending.

[stayevildarling]

What I imagine it would be like to be in a relationship with Wilhemina Venable:

-I feel like you two would have to meet at the office, either you being her assistant the cliché or you also working at Kineros Robotics and having eyes for each other for a long time

-You would have noticed her a long time ago, working in a different department at first but seeing her get into work or leave work or linger in the halls of your department sometimes. People would always talk about the purple dragon lady and her temper or the countless assistants she has fired so far

-Wilhemina knows everyone there even from different departments because she‘s HR Bitch. Even though you don‘t think Miss Venable would even know about your existence or even care for that matter she does. Of course she noticed the way you would always look at her from across your desk, checking her out but pretending to not do anything. And of course she has seen the request of you changing departments to work with her on her desk

-Usually you work in the offices, doing orders, answering emails or phone calls. One day Wilhemina waltzed into your office with your request and you internally freaked out and checked if your hair looks okay when you heard her approach „Miss Y/L/N I have reviewed your request, the only available position is as my assistant, you can think about it , if you want the job be in my office tomorrow at 7 am sharp“ and she left with those words. You didn‘t have to think about it much and you packed your things and showed up at 6:30am the next morning just to make sure

-Wilhemina has a history with assistants but you were different, doing more than you have to and is in your job description. Bringing her coffees in the morning, just how she likes it and with little notes „Have a good morning Miss Venable“ you figured that the only way you could make it as her assistant would be to do more and satisfy her with doing good work, thinking ahead and that‘s exactly what Wilhemina started to appreciate about you

-She fell in love with the simple things about you, your adorable smile, your innocence and every single polite „Good morning Miss Venable“ or „Of course I already took care of that Miss Venable“ and so it didn‘t take long for her to show you her appreciation too. Smiling, nodding in approval and eventually asking if you want to get coffee. Your heart almost stopped but of course you agreed and you two got some coffee in your lunch break and dinner within the following week

-I feel like Wilhemina would ask you to be hers. She would be very awkward at first and need a few days because she has a hard time believing that anyone could love her but you showed her clear signs especially after the few dates. „Are you dating anyone?“ she asked and you shook your head „Not yet“ you joked and Wilhemina absolutely loves your sarcasm and the smirk on your face so she just had to kiss you

-Ever since then Wilhemina would do a lot to show you her appreciation and how much she is in love with you. She calls you her little one , she loves you so much and will actually treat you like you are her little one, protecting you and she would quite literally die or kill for you. She holds your hand in public not caring about what people think, she stays professional at work and keeping her distance but between closed doors she shares glances, kisses and holding hands

-She is very jealous and overprotective. You don‘t give her a reason to be jealous but she still hates whenever someone is too close to you, smiling with you, putting a hand on your shoulder - oh boy she will be outraged and you would have to calm her down and reassure her that you are hers and hers only

-Routines: although the weeks are always busy, she developed silent routines with you. Getting up and ready in the morning together to go to work, sitting down together in your lunch breaks, going home together, her waiting by the car until you finish , having dinner together. Sitting on the sofa in the evening, Mina reading while you watch some tv and her pulling you closer and cuddling you

-She totally loves whenever you call her Mina or Babe although she doesn‘t admit it to anyone, she feels butterflies in her stomach whenever she hears you say that

-Sex: With her it‘s very interesting, the first time was very passionate because you both wanted each other so much. You only later on discovered some of her kinks and things she likes and she did too after finding one of your „sketchbooks“ where you wrote and drew some of your fantasies and oh boy Mina made sure to do exactly what you fantasied about. She loves when you call her mommy or mistress and she loves using toys

-Purple: You adore how much she loves purple and that it‘s her signature color. It got to the point where you can‘t stand purple on anyone and the whole of Kineros Robotics knows by the way not to wear purple bc it‘s her color. Also she loves whenever you wear purple especially underwear. She also finds it adorable when she somtimes finds you in one of her sweaters or cardigans

-Little things you love about her: You love when you catch her watching the history channel and when you call her out she will get all defensive about it. „No I was just channel surfing“ she will say. You also adore her nose scrunching whenever you say something too adorable or sweet and how she can‘t handle it „You mean everything to me“ you would randomly say and she would just blush and be an awkward mess around you for a while

-You can‘t convince me otherwise: Wilhemina is cold and stern on the outside but with you she lets her walls down and she is honest about her insecurities (letting you help her with her back and being open about her pains). She has a huge soft spot for you and will be the sweetest and spoiling you to death, making your dream of being with her come true and even better

[little-cereal-draws]

Hi feel free to respond to this privately but Hi, i love your animated videos, especially the shadows ones! What program(s) do you use if you don’t mind me asking and do u have any tips? I would love to start doing animatics but idk how/where to start. Thanks in advance! ^^

Hello! I'm so glad that you enjoyed my videos! My software is not fancy at all and might be a bit of a letdown tbh lol

For drawing I used to use Paint tool sai (which i think is what a lot of ppl use) but it wasn't working right on my computer, it wouldn't let me save my images. I got it off of some Japanese website and it was $19 (USD). Now I use the app that came with my computer. I have a Windows computer. It's called Sketchbook (oOoOh, so fancy lol) and it is limited in terms of brushes and pen pressure but I like it. Very easy to figure out. I also have Krita which I think I had to pay for. I don't remember how much tho, I want to say $15 (USD)?? Maybe? It is much more complex and lets you do things like animate but I don't use it bc I'm too lazy to figure it out lol I know there's a lot of great tutorials online tho. I also know a lot of ppl use Procreate which is much better especially in terms of brushes but it's not compatible w my computer :( Procreate costs $10 (USD) I think.

As for editing, I use Shotcut. It's a free software that I downloaded from somewhere, I don't remember. It is definitely limited in terms of filters, camera angles, and what you can put in it but hey, it's free! The one thing I hate the most abt it is you can't pan. It drives me insane. But it has zoom, text, filters, etc. I used to use Filmora which is also free but is even more limited and I think it puts a watermark on your videos.

Now for tips!

Uhh, I guess the most obvious is practice. I started doing animatics four years ago and I can't watch any of my old ones now, they're so bad lol

Another thing is vary your shot type. If you have a couple ppl doing smth together, do close ups, medium shots, and wide shots. Try different camera angles. It's ok to do the same type of shot a couple times in a row but after a while it can get boring.

An extension of the last point, if a character does smth like knock a thing over or move it or whatever, show the object moving and then their reaction. Reaction shots are very important for character's emotions. Wide shots to establish a setting.

As an extension of that point, watch your favorite show/movie and watch how they film it, when they zoom in, how they frame the characters etc. I've spent so much time doing that lol (WWDITS might not be the best example bc it's a documentary but it should still work pretty well)

In terms of moving characters/making it smooth, layers are going to be ur best friend lol I end up with so many layers when I make a video. It's partially because I'm scared to delete layers in case I need them later but it's also helpful to see a character's last position. If they're on the left and need to move to the right, draw them on the left, copy the layer, and move the new layer a little bit using the original one as a reference point. Continue until they've made it. Same thing if they're moving their hand up or whatever. Use old layers as reference points to avoid jumpiness.

Because animating/drawing in general is hard and time consuming and I'm lazy I try to reuse shots/poses as much as I can. Again if you have a character going from left to right and then later in the video going right to left, save the left to right layers. You can just flip them to make it look like they're going right to left and now you don't have to draw it again! This can be tricky tho bc you don't want your video to get repetitive like I said before. So do it but do it sparingly lol

THUMBNAIL FIRST! This is very helpful. Just make a bunch of little boxes with stick figures mapping out what's going to happen in ur video. It doesn't have to look good at all, it's just so you don't forget what's going to happen/get lost. This is mine for the video of Laszlo and Nadja dancing:

I put notes on this one so I remember what the actions and camera angles are. Since I was copying an already choregraphed dance here, I did that in black and then put in more interesting camera angles in blue on a different layer so it wasn't two minutes of the same full body shot

And uh yeah I think that's it! Hopefully this is helpful!

[bibbykins]

the brunch event is here I’m excited!!! @ all MCs, what’s the sweetest fluffiest thing the guys have done for you / you’ve done with the guys? (craving some fluff today, hope you don’t mind!)

(Holy shit, this was longer than I intended but I hope you like it!) (Also this is long and I'm on mobile so I'm sorry for no read later thing here pls dont be mean to me)

Warnings: crying, PTSD, phantom pains/touches

The girls all smile at the question and decide the order they'll go in before Leopard takes a sip of her mimosa and speaks, "One day, Jin said he was taking me to go look at some clothes for an event we'd have to go to," She relaxes in her seat, fingers curling around the champagne glass gracefully, as if she's proudly told this story a million times, "Then, we pull up to a storage place and I'm like 'okay, so you're murdering me?'" She laughs in spite of knowing he's capable of murder, "He takes my hand and then takes me into a unit and in there are sketchbooks upon props and prototypes that I had ever made." She grinned at the thought, "I had started doing stage design and writing when I was 16 and my family never took home my props or anything, so I thought they were just... gone, and then here they all were." She sighed dreamily, "It just... made me feel like someone was proud of that 16 year old hurting herself on nail guns trying to build, or that 18 year old who took an hour to control a sander, it made me feel so exalted for my hard work."

Princess and Dove are already tearing up despite having heard the story before and Leopard holds their hands until they calm down, knowing they will absolutely cry when everyone is done telling their stories.

"Ah, it's my turn!" Sunshine gleams, "I'm pretty easy to make happy, like ordering my favorite food is groundbreaking to me no matter how often you do it." The girls giggle and nod at this, "But, there was one time we on our way to do our engagement photo shoot at the restaurant we had our first date, but then he pulls over and tell me he wants to show me something." She can't contain her growing smile, "And I'm confused, becuase we stop at this beautiful lake and he hates the outdoors." She chuckles at this, "But then he leads us into a beautiful field with wild flowers and a camera with a tripod." Princess has already let tears fall at this point, "And he tells me this is our engagement photoshoot, something just for us." Sunshine takes a bite of her crepe, "It was just so sweet and grounding since everything something happens with us, it's publicized, which is fine for the most part, but for him to set something up that's just for us to have, especially in nature, so sweet." The girls all giggle and coo at Sunshine.

"Oh, no! I know what story Sweet Pea is gonna say and I'm totally gonna break!" Odette grips Sunshine as the woman in question giggles.

"It's okay, I cried like a baby too." Sweet Pea giggles and she begins cutting Princess's pancakes for her like she always does, "So he was taking me to a gallery, didn't tell me for who for some reason, but you know me, I love a good exhibition." She snickered, "When we get there, I realize it's for my favorite enameler, or art jewler. He uses this beautiful etching technique and makes some stunning intaglio pieces I absolutely adore." The girls all mentally prep their tear ducts for the next part, "And so he has me meet the artist, and I'm freaking out the whole time and trying to hide it, until the artist tells me he has a piece he want to show me." She has excitement on her face just thinking about it, "And he takes me to a piece I haven't seen before and isn't with the new collection. It's an aquamarine pendant with a beautiful silver chain that had parts of a see through material interwoven. The gem was held in place with a beautiful silver trim that looks light and airy, like clouds almost, and in the pendant is this beautiful etching of a familiar skyline." Odette wipes a tear away at the speed of light, "And then Namjoon tells me it's the skyline from where we first met on that forsaken sky bridge and the silver with glass represents the steps that lead me to him." The girls coo at Sweet Pea tearing up for a moment.

"Ah, it's my turn!" Odette wipes away tears frantically, "Mine is quite simple, but it meant a lot to me." She smiles gleefully, "For background, before I majored in journalism, I was a dance major, contemporary, but I had an injury and was out of commission for too long by the time it healed. I didn't even tell Jimin until we had been dating for a couple months, I feel weird talking about it sometimes." She shrugged simply, "So I beacame his practice partner after that, which was fun, and one time we soent ages practicing thus one choreo bc he claimed he didn't want to practice with his actual partner, ever the drama queen." She giggled, "Then, the day of the showcase comes and he reveals that the dance was choreographed for me and him and it's our showcase." She held a toothy grin, "He gave me the feeling of being a dancer again, and it just felt like the closure I needed that I never got from my dancing career."

"It was a beautiful showcase." Angel nodded in agreement and Odette beamed at her praise while the other girls nod.

Dove hums as she chews her food before speaking, "So I do hand stitching, right? I don't think I'm very good..." All the women scowl at her, "But, they and Taehyung think I'm great at it and it calms me down so I make them a lot of hand stitched art or monogrammed clothing or I do commissions for their family." She smiles shyly, "So one day, Tae-Tae says he's taking me to Sweet Pea's gallery, but when we get there, it's all of my pieces up there. And the whole time people are greeting me and telling me how talented I am, asking what pieces they can buy and offering crazy prices, not that these guys would let go of my pieces." She snickered and the girls nodded proudly, "My name was in articles the next day, and he made me feel like I was someone to show off, like I was the impressive one, or impressive at all."

"Because you are impressive, hello?" Sunshine teased.

Princess has mascara streaks on her cheeks and Sweet Pea begins digging through her bag for makeuo wipes, "Uh, I'm not really good at storytelling and I'm a mess, so I'll make it quite short." She sniffled, "inhave this horrible habit of making clothes I hate and then donating them and Kook is always so dramatic when I do, like he has any business with a spring dress that would rip under his bicep." She giggles for a moment as Leopard begins wiping her cheeks, "And then he takes me to fashion week and...and..." She starts crying again and Odette coos at her, "My work, he had me on there as an up and coming designer and people were so nice to me and everytime I got overwhelmed, he took the reigns and it... my childhood dreams came true." She laid her head in Angel's lap, knowing it was her turn. The woman in question strokes the younger's hair soothingly.

Before Angel can even speak, all the girls are holding her hand or holding her and she rolls her eyes playfully, smilimg at the affection, "This why I'm going last." She giggled, "They get like this everytime I tell this story, even Leopard cries."

"Shush." Leopard, who is standing behind Angel's chair and stroking her hair quips, embarrassed, "We just care about you." She huffs.

"Well, it was a year after... the incident." Dove begins braiding Angel's hair to hide her incoming tears, "And I tried to go to work, but my body was not having it, so he stayed home with me and did everything the therapist said to grounding techniques and all, and stuff I could've done on my own, but he insisted." She smiled, "When dinner came around, I began feeling... phantom touches, pains. Like, my cheek ached and my tongue felt like it was burning, everything." Her smile was a bit sad, "It's normal with PTSD, but it doesn't make it any less frightening and none of the other grounding techniques were working, so he sits me on the counter, plays my favorite music, and begins 'treating' my wounds." Princess has her head in Angel's lap, but everyone can tell she's crying, "So for hours, he's there and showing me the clean gauze after treating my phantom wounds so delicately, and it really brought me back into the moment, that this is the man who loves me and this is where I am now." She smiles despite all the other girls being teary-eyed messes.

[defiantsuggestions]

hi, anon who sent the privacy invasion ask:

i did think about ur suggesting and yeah, you're right, that wasn't appropriate language to use for that particular situation, or at all really.

everything else still stands tho, and i think it hurt more bc she usually didnt snoop around like that to my knowledge. horrible as she was, she never took my stuff without asking, and was generally fine with leaving my personal stuff alone.

so when she did that it was a huge breach of trust, especially since i had felt that she would never do that.

another story, similar cw's apply here:

recently, a while after i escaped her house to go to my paternal grandmother, i went to visit my maternal grandmother for the weekend.

it was 2 am, and i was trying to go to sleep, and i left my sketchbook out on the table bc i had been doodling a little.

she walked over to me to tell me to go to bed, when she noticed my sketchbook. just when i had closed my eyes, i heard paper rustling, and i snapped awake immediately.

she was sitting at my feet, looking through my personal, PRIVATE sketchbook, without asking.

i immediately remembered my mom, and i told her to stop and put it down.

she ignored me.

i said it again. same thing.

i told her to stop 5 times and she did not listen.

i tore the sketchbook out of her hands but by that point she had already seen everything.

i felt naked, violated, and wrong.

i told her she couldnt look through my stuff without asking first, and that it was wrong of her to do that.

she looked at me, and with a patronizing tone of voice, said "good luck in the real world."

i saw red.

immediately i smacked her (uninjured) shoulder in hopes that it would jostle her head out of her anus but no dice.

she got mad bc i slapped her shoulder (gently) after she snooped through the equivalent of my diary without asking and refused to stop when politely asked.

she complained to my aunt about how id smacked her and apparently gave no other context bc my aunt came to me the next day to ask what happened.

i told my aunt and she started pulling excuses like "well she really loves your art, her father was a painter so your art is her pride and joy," etc.

i could not give 2 shits. i told her no and she did not listen. she crossed multiple boundaries and laughed in my face when i got upset.

secondly, my art is not something you get to advertise like its your own. you dont get to piggyback off of my hobby for clout, ESPECIALLY not after what you pulled. my art is personal, and the fact that you bragged about it without my knowledge, likely sharing pictures as well, is revolting.

and then my grandmother came around and said (in a tone clearly meant to guilt-trip me into apologising, oh did i mention she does that a lot) that she'd never touch anything of mine again.

i said "good."

she took me home, and i couldn't pick up my sketchbook at all after that bc every time, all i could think about was how she saw everything inside and suddenly i didnt want to draw anymore.

she called me everyday after that to ask when i would be coming back over as if nothing happened.

it has been over a week and i havent seen her since.

i really dont want to see her. forever, preferably.

but my cousin has a birthday coming up in 2 days where she will, unfortunately, be there.

and knowing her, she's already shared her side and will get everyone to antagonize me about it, as usual.

wish me luck and pray i dont commit homicide in the middle of a 3 year old's birthday party.

this family is a goddamn nightmare.

(Thank you, I appreciate that. And everything else you said absolutely still stands, 100%.)

That sounds absolutely awful, anon. Privacy is a right, it is important, it needs to be respected.

A artist's sketchbook is their private property. It's nosy, rude and entitled to look through it without permission. And to keep looking through it when that person tells you to stop is just horrible. She has no right, it's your art and your property, not hers.

I absolutely hated it when my parents looked through anything of mine, it made me jumpy and secretive and less willing to show them anything.

And, her laughing you off? With """good luck in the real world?""" Firstly, excusing her shitty behavior with 'oh this isn't the real world you're so coddled' is bullshit manipulation and it doesn't make what she did okay. Second; if she did that out in public with a stranger, that would be harassment and theft.

Like, is she trying to imply that out there in the big scary "real world" people are going to nose through your stuff on the regular? Because that sounds like what she was trying to imply, and she is wrong. No one would accept that kind of behavior from her. What she did was wrong.

I'm so sorry you have to see her again. That entire situation is bull and you deserve so much more respect than what you're being given. Your privacy is important.

Please stay safe. Good luck at the party. I suggest you avoid taking anything personal, she's libel to try and guilt you into getting into it. Just get through the day and try to avoid her as much as possible after. Like with your mother; she ruined the relationship. Not you.

[straight-into-the-animus]

<3 Thank you! (sorry this took so long @pandoravidal​)

I’m gonna do a few ships and little headcanons/imagines since it’s been a while (EzioLeo, Arno/Elise, Alexios/Thaletas)

If you want any headcanons or imagines for random chars/ships/Assassin’s Creed AUs let me know!!

Ezio/Leo

-They’ve been bffs since Leonardo moved back in middle school

-Ezio’s like, smooth, but when he’s around Leo he’s basically Bambi on ice (bumps into tables, stumbles over some of his words)

-Especially when Leo looks at him with such genuine interest, not just mindless flirting like he’s used to

-Rosa threatens him (vaguely) that if he doesn’t do something about it then she will

-He starts leaving little origami birds all around for Leo (taped to his locker, in his backpack, once even gently placed in his sketchbook), they’re not all that good but that’s besides the point

-Leonardo loves them but after a while of this he kind of droops and Ezio’s REALLY worried until he learns that the artist loves them but worries that the person sending doesn’t like him enough to come forward

-Ezio cannot have that and admits it, hesitantly, softly

-Leo blinks and watches him for a while as Ezio rambles on about his feelings but then Ezio tries to apologize and offers to take them back but THEN Leonardo gets pissed like “don’t fucking think about it” and laUNCHES himself at the dark haired boy for a kiss (or several)

-Ezio loves to listen to Leonardo ramble endlessly, always there for him, a willing model for any sketches even. (he’s also batshit crazy with jealousy and the minute Salai decides to come around? all bets are off. Leonardo acts disapproving and mostly does but is secretly very into it)

Arno/Elise

-Arno’s always had a crush on Elise

-Elise, unfortunately, runs with a different crowd, though she’s always been his friend since they pretty much grew up down the street from each other

-His friends aren’t “unsupportive” but they’re a little like “dude why” and he’s like “bc??? I love her” but he thinks for a while it’s not reciprocated

-It actually very much is but her friends kinda keep giving her the side-eye like “you like that depressed one over there?”

-Valentine’s Day comes around and Arno comes to what he believes is a wonderful idea after getting absolutely smashed on a bottle of red wine; he makes a huge balloon bouquet attached to a basket

-He then wakes up and is beyond horrified at the blue and yellow and red creation and kind of wants to pop it and forget it ever happened, but at this point he’s over it and kinda hates himself so he works through his headache and writes her a note to put in the basket with some good candies and treats, basically pouring out how he feels and that if she doesn’t feel the same way it’s okay, they don’t have to talk ever again; he leave sit on her front door and runs away

-He gets a call later that night from Elise demanding he come over “right now” and he does so reluctantly; her parents aren’t home and he’s a little confused on why but once he steps in she immediately goes for the kiss

-Not much else changes after that but they become pretty much one of the most sickening couples at the school and both of their friend groups begrudgingly put up with it

Alexios/Thaletas

-Kyra and Kassandra so hook them up

-Thaletas is very much into sports, esp lacrosse

-Alexios works out for bod but doesn’t do the “teams” thing, but he does enjoy watching the guys

-He’s also very much a hopeless romantic and Kassandra gets really tired of seeing him laying around the house watching The Bachelor, so she calls up her girlfriend and they formulate a plan

-Kyra and Thaletas used to date and split off amicably and now she needs him to get a grip; he’s a good guy but he needs a life other than sports

-Kassandra and Kyra take Alexios and Thaletas respectively to a small coffeeshop downtown

-Alexios? Smitten for the guy with the funky braid. Thaletas? He’s kind of just watching, unsure what to make of things but definitely has noticed 

-Kass and Kyra get up from the table about ten minutes later to “go to the bathroom” and book it, taking the boy’s rides. They don’t realize for another twenty minutes, and by the time they do it’s much too late bc they’ve already kinda fallen for each other

-They share their first kiss a week after the coffeeshop after Thaletas’ team wins in the middle of a rainstorm with mud kicked up all over the shorter man, but neither one cares as they hold onto each other

-Thaletas starts bringing Alexios around a lot more to lacrosse games and practices, and Alexios is always willing to go around and follow him

-Kass and Kyra are very smug but very happy as well that they’re happy together

[ironcrwned-archive]

hi friends ! it’s me ur resident clown, bonnie, & i’m stoked to be in this rp with all of you ! i’m 20, located in the est, and i use she/her pronouns ! i’m currently procrastinating all my school work so ! there’s that. below the cut are my babies’ intros, so like this and i’ll hit u up for plotting ! i got out of hand and this is super long so if this is overwhelming, there’s a tl;dr at the bottom !

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 : 𝒙𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓 𝒆𝒖𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒕𝒛𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒕 –– THE ARTIST

alex fitzalan. twenty-three. cismale. he/him. one sib. ––– hey , there’s XAVIER FITZHERBERT from AURADON walking past the castle. they’re the OLDEST child of RAPUNZEL AND EUGENE ‘FLYNN’ FITZHERBERT , isn’t that cool ? talk says they can be pretty - NAIVE , but don’t let that worry you – they can be + BENEVOLENT too. say , don’t you think they remind you of DANCING WITH YOUR FRIENDS UNTIL YOU CAN’T BREATHE, WARM HUGS FROM THE PEOPLE THAT LOVE YOU, NOT WANTING TO GROW UP JUST YET & BOYISH SMILES, or is that just me ? 

𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒔 

the oldest child born to rapunzel & flynn, and it is obvious that he took after rapunzel with his temperament

a soft soul, his smiles always reach his eyes, dimples and cheekbones are his trademarks honestly

growing up, he was always outside, playing with his mother & father & sister ( though he is more of a momma’s boy tbh )

probably made ( and currently makes ) flower crowns for himself and friends

and his strong connection to rapunzel , it’s obvious young xavier got his artistic talent from her

he constantly has paint on his fingers and hands, a sketchbook in his bag with pastels and paints and oils from all over the place

most likely has drawn everyone he’s ever met in his sketchbook and then given it to them for their birthday and/or a holiday

his parents both loved him very very much growing up, and it’s obvious in how he acts. he never hesitated to come to them if there were problems or issues with anything in his life ( friends, relationships, schooling )

xavier is ~kind of~ a partier in the sense he is ALWAYS down to go out and have fun and dance with his friends , but he rarely ever gets out of control due to substances or anything

is currently having a Crisis about his sexuality because he’s really only ever been with females but now he’s just like ... seeing a cute guy and is like wait a min.. 

he hopes to become some type of royal painter or something one day because art is truly his passion 

𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚 

okay so obviously, this boy is a big old softie 

he will ALWAYS drop everything he is doing to help someone out, it never matters with him

can be a little ( a lot ) on the awkward side & tries really really hard to not be but it really is just how he is and sometimes it’s endearing and sometimes it’s...like watching aladdin ( 2019 ) scene where aladdin meets jasmine the first time as prince ali .. it’s pretty bad

he is ESPECIALLY cringey when he is talking to someone attractive ( and they’re male/nb and he’s having a Crisis ) and they’re flirting with him...phew just kno that his ears ? are as red as merida’s hair

most likely will never know if someone’s taking advantage of him/using him

𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 

hi i just like making playlists for my characters so ppl know the Vibe™️

i. talk too much // coin – ii. supercut // lorde. – iii. boy’s dont cry // the cure. – iv. made of light // mikky ekko – v. chicago // sufjan stevens – vi. eyes shut // years & years

𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒑𝒍𝒐𝒕𝒔

u can check out his tag right here ! so if u see anything u fancy, just lmk !!

but also!! friends!! probably people that he grew up around a lot bc of who his parents were

mayb someone who is the opposite of him ( maybe a villain kid ) who he tries to like ... encourage idk , i just rly like unlikely friendships !

someone who watches out for him , esp because he’s always taking care of others and most likely forgets to take care of himself ( taken by: giselle desroches )

maybe some exes?? most likely females for rn bc he’s discovering his sexuality but these were probably like ... friendly break ups

literally anything i’m pretty easy going !

okay now onto my trash child

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 : 𝒄𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒓𝒂 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆 𝒆𝒗𝒂𝒏𝒔 –– THE SPITFIRE

olivia holt. twenty-two. cisfemale. she/her. two sibs. ––– hey , there’s CASSANDRA ‘CASSIE’ EVANS from THE ISLE walking past the castle. they’re the YOUNGEST child of CLAYTON , isn’t that cool ? talk says they can be pretty - MANIPULATIVE , but don’t let that worry you – they can be + RESOURCEFUL too. say , don’t you think they remind you of HAIR TIED INTO PONYTAILS WITH RIBBONS, KNOWING YOU CAN DO NO WRONG IN YOUR FATHER’S EYES, AN ARROGANT SMILE AFTER YOU GOT YOUR WAY, & THE FEELING OF BARE FEET IN THE SAND , or is that just me ?  

𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒔 

the youngest child of clayton ( the bad guy from tarzan )

and when i tell you she is SPOILED omg

growing up she knew she was cute , mostly because clayton was SURE to tell her that and spoil his little girl ( xavier is a momma’s boy & cassie is for sure daddy’s little girl yikes )

so from a young age, she had a little mischievous side to her. 

it started with lil pranks on her siblings and then her dad and most of them weren’t harmful , just annoying but eventually as she went to school at the isle...she became a monster

she knew she had the innocent face so her friends ( !! wanted plot btw ) would pull pranks on other students and even some teachers

and whenever the other students would try to tell the teachers, cassie would put on a little smile and flip the narrative so she looked good and the other person didn’t. i literally can’t stand her

now in auradon, u know she’s gonna be making sh*t hit the fan whenever she gets the chance

big big disaster Bi that flirts with everyone with NO shame

𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚 

so obviously cassie is somewhat of a lil monster ( not somewhat, she is a big one )

can be pretty darn manipulative depending on the situation and whether or not she will benefit from it or not

but ! she does have some redeeming qualities ! 

she is super resourceful meaning that her mind is super quick to find the easiest and most time efficient solution to a problem 

and she’s a pretty good smooth talker in bad situations, she’s known to get her friends out of a lot of sticky situations before

very very flirty okay but hates commitment lol

is pretty adventurous as well, loves the outdoors and hiking and swimming especially

 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 

i. dead weight // pvris. – ii. bad memory // k. flay. – iii. simmer // hayley williams – iv. west coast // lana del rey – v. teach me how to pray // spelles. – vi. don’t hurt yourself // beyonce. 

𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒑𝒍𝒐𝒕𝒔

u can look in her tag right here ! same thing with xavier , if u see something u wanna do just let me know !!

girl squad !!! probably from the isle too and probably f*cked sh*t up over there and now? they’ll most likely do the same thing over in auradon 

probably has lotsssss of exes because she tends to self-sabotage and leave before things get serious. we love some angst in this household 

people that genuinely dislike her lmao 

people she probably flirts with on the daily basis lol 

𝚝𝚕 ; 𝚍𝚛 ( seriously i need to chill )

ik this was A LOT so i’m just gonna summarize them below lol

xavier fitzherbert : son of rapunzel & flynn, art heaux, discovering his sexuality, a whole awkward mess but just wants to help people!

cassandra ‘cassie’ evans : youngest daughter of clayton from tarzan, a little spitfire that manipulates mostly everyone, disaster bi afraid of commitment, and causes too much trouble all the time 

[affectionatealien]

Your Heart is a Garden

Summary: Habit’s had something on his mind, and tries to do a little gardening to distract himself. It’s a bit obvious though he can’t quite focus on anything else like he wants to.

Warnings: None

A/N: Another fic of my flower protag/ insert and habit! This time it’s long sappy confession junk bc I’ve been dying to write this out ;v; 

Mountain air seemed to be so refreshing in the morning like this. It seeped in through the windows Boris opened while he busied himself in the kitchen, and crept into the living room while I usually tried to prepare to be awake for the day.

 However, it took me awhile of laying on the futon to realize there was no mountain air, or kitchen bustle to wake up to. I hadn't woken up that late had I? No, a glance at the clock assured me it was still early. Still trying to rub the sleep out of my eyes I got up, peeked into Boris's room since he'd left the door open. Not there either. Odd, especially for him. 

I had to catch myself as worry threatened to bubble up- Boris was probably just down in the garden, or, somewhere else in what was left of the habitat. Of course. Besides, it was silly to worry about him not being here just one morning... Perhaps a little time to myself could be a good thing, after all! 

Making breakfast was easy enough with something simple like toast and cereal, and now my mind could wander to what I'd spend the rest of the day doing. Maybe I could watch that one movie I'd been waiting to check out... Ah, no, I wanted to save it for me and Boris to watch. Games? No, I'd already beaten most of what I had and just liked doing two player stuff with Boris when he was in the mood for it. Art? Now that could work... Ever since I'd come to stay here, my inspiration had spiked like I hadn't seen in years. It was refreshing to make something I didn't hate as soon as I was done with it...

Flopping back onto the couch, I fished out the sketchbook that was always hidden away under it or in a crevice somewhere, depending on how tired I was when I stashed it. Opening it, I was met with what I was last working on... A page full of sketches of different blossoms, ones found in the garden me and Boris had been tending to so carefully. Among them, was a single sketch of the tall russian man himself- carefully cutting a rose blossom from a bush. I'd almost forgotten about it, about watching him look so tender and focused and the urge to capture it that was impossible to ignore. And something about it feels so embarrassing and... Alien about it, I close the sketchbook again, any previous ideas gone. Damn.

Perhaps it wasn't a bad idea to go down to the garden anyways. I just needed some fresh air and sunshine maybe, certainly that would clear my head, help me pass the time. And if Boris was down there I could check on him. Maybe even work in the garden with him a little. It'd be much better than being so listless up here. I just had to actually finish getting ready for the day first...

Coming down from the apartment through the boiler room, I found myself in the courtyard, now repurposed into a garden and fully in bloom. It was something Boris had truly put his heart and soul into since he closed the Habitat for good, and it had really shown in even just the past couple of months I'd been here.

 Blossoms of all shapes and colors and sizes made a meandering maze, one I'd learned to navigate by memory at this point. The only hard part would be finding Boris- he was prone to attending to the plants in a somewhat flighty manner, never too still before finding another plant that needed his love and affection (and maybe some fertilizer). 

With that in mind, it was pretty surprising when I found him sitting in one of the nooks formed by a gathering of hydrangea bushes, a single potted flower in his lap. He didn't seem to being so much gardening as he was letting himself get lost in thought. 

"Boris?" I called out, moving carefully past some recently planted bushes. His head snapped up upon hearing his name, and that surpised look lingers a little too long, like he's in a daze. But it quickly disappeared, giving way to a soft smile upon recognizing it was just me. But, there was more to it... The way his smile is just a little too tired for this time of the morning. Almost forlorn...

"Ah! Finn... I didnn't expect you to come down. Did you need som-thing...?" He asked. I shook my head, instead opting to take a seat in the cool grass next to him.

"Just wanted to check on ya. Not used to seeing you down here this early I guess..." I explained. And in the moment I want to tell him how lonely mornings without him feel, but it'd be too much. So instead I lingered, waited for him to say something so I could forget about it.

"I see... Sorry, I didn't mean to worrie you. I just needed some time to think I suppose... The garden seams to be a good place for that." His gaze had returned to the flowering plant in front of him, like looking into it would help him eventually have some grand epiphany about whatever seemed to bother him.

  "Yeah, I get what you mean... And, y'know you can talk to me too. It's what friends are for right?" He didn't answer right away- leaving an uncomfortable pause hanging in the air.

"Yeah... Of course." Even as plainly as he tried to say it, there's still a tinge of pain to it. It wasn't a tone I'd heard from him in awhile, which was particularly worrying. He'd never had issues talking to me about what was on his mind in the past, why start now? Was it me, something I'd done? 

We continued to sit in silence, nerves wracked as I desperately wanted anything else to replace the silence that soured the fresh morning air. Anything that could change the mood, or subject... 

My eye was drawn to what looked like a flower bush Boris had been planning to plant. A hole already dug for it, it just needed to be reburied and whatever other tending it needed. "U-uh... I noticed that bush it looks like you were gonna replant. Did you want any help with that? Or, really, anything else out here? ... Since I'm out here and all!" I asked. Still staring into the flower, he shook his head. 

"I appreciate it, but I think it will be fine for now." He sighed, placing the flower in his lap to the side. "...I'm really not doing anything out heer. I should probably go back inside." Boris stood, dusting his coat off- only to freeze again as my hand darted to the hem of it, like my body was on autopilot. He stared down at me, expression somewhere between startled and anticipation. I had to say something now, I couldn't just let him go without saying anything-

"Boris. Please tell me what's wrong. If it's something I did we can talk about it... You're my friend, I need to know if I messed up, or if I can fix it-" His face furrowed into a pained expression as he continued to stand, frozen, looking like he can't even sort out his own words. This continued until he sighed, resigned, and knelt back into the grass beside me.

"You didn't do anything. I promis. It's just how... Exactly that. You're my closest friend, and it means a lot to b here with you, through everything... But... Is it, ah... Is it wrong to want... More?" He asked. His question brought back plenty of thoughts- almost all of them about how he's always so close, how he lets me sit in his lap when we play games together, or how his comforting hugs never seem to last long enough no matter how long we sit there. The way I'll hope and wish a late night movie marathon will put him to sleep so we have an excuse to wake up the next morning together. But that was just Boris being... Boris isn't it? Of course he'd be close with his first real friend like this. I'm reading into it too much. Even with him, in front of me, staring at me with nothing but longing in his eyes. It was too scary, too exhilarating to think it could be anything else, it had to be. 

"I-I'm sorree. This is selfish. I shouldn't- you shouldn't have to answer that. We can just-" He shifted again to get up, only to freeze when I spoke up.

"Boris... I-It's not. It's okay. Especially when people... Mean so much. But it can be.... scary you know?" He nodded, understandingly. His gaze had lifted from the spot on the ground in front of him, attention on me. 

"Do you think it's worth it? Even if it's scarey?" He asked. Now it was my turn for my stare to wander to the grass beneath me, unsure what the correct answer was. 

"I don't... know, really. Guess you just have to find out sometimes." I said. It wasn't much of an answer, but it was all I had. "Boris... Could I... Kiss you? I want to know." At first he didn't, perhaps couldn't say anything- and slowly, he gave a very deliberate nod. He fumbled across the grass, side to side with me, and even sitting down towered over me. It certainly wasn't intimidating though, not with how he squeezed his eyes shut, leaned forward, tense. Not quite sure what to do with his body. Waiting. I leaned up to him, careful as lips met- god his face was so warm. And for a moment, I'm the only one leaned into the kiss, as he remained still, like he wasn't sure how he felt. Enough to have made me waver too, close to pulling away and apologizing. What a stupid idea. But at the last moment it was like he'd come to life, pressing feverishly into the kiss. And for a moment I know what it feels like to be a flower in bloom, face to face with the sunlight it needs so much.

It was dizzying how fast he went from frozen in place to practically fumbling into my lap, hands grasped over my shoulders, nudging his way further into the kiss. It was nervous, inexperienced, and downright heavenly the way his mouth clumsily pressed into mine. My hands buried into the soft fuzzy collar of his coat as I matched his fevered passion, and it only drove me further on as he whined into the kiss at even the hint of my touch. Time was slow, or maybe just didn't mean anything for the longest time as he melts into the kiss, unsure frozen hands slowly moving to pull me flush against him, a warm embrace so much like all the ones he'd given me before but.... more this time, one that didn't leave me feeling like I was still missing something. 

Boris was the first to break the kiss- his hands didn't move, and he's still staring at me, like the rest of him is still catching up with what was happening. He wasn't quite panting- but he drew these deep, long breaths, clutched to me like I'd fall into nothing if he dared let go. 

"Still... Scar-ed?" He asked. I shook my head and chuckled, which made a warm smile ease onto his face. 

"No.... This is good. It's, uh. Wow. Kinda exhilarating, I think." His smile turned wide at that, showing off that characteristic, cute crooked row of pearly whites of his- and now it was my turn to be the flustery one out of the two of us. 

"Are u shure? Maybie... We should do it again so we're doublie sure..." Boris hinted. It only took a short nod for him to lean back in, hands cupped on either side of my face. He pulled me up, ever so gently into another kiss, but not as pushy or urgent- this time it was deep, slow. He was still a bit hesitant about what to do with his mouth, but god it didn't matter, not with how soft and deliberate he was while I clung to him. Surrounded by the garden we'd poured our hearts into, and now pouring into each other, it almost felt unreal, the only thing that kept me grounded was Boris's thumb stroking gentle circles against my cheek, and every other little sensation of him against me. 

Boris pulled away again, giving a satisfied hum as he did- he looked like he was in as dreamy of a daze as I had been in. His clawed hand pushed a strand of hair from my face ever so carefully, eyes fixated on me. 

"Boris..." I started. A pause. I knew what I wanted to say but it felt stuck in my throat, awkward to say. So instead I opted to bury my face in his coat collar, soaking in his scent, thinking those words again, and again, and again. "... I love you." His arms squeezed around me, tight, warm, unyielding. I felt him rest his head on top of mine, face nuzzled into my hair. 

"Ah, flower..... I lov you, too. I love you a lott..." And I can hear it in his voice- after all the hard work he's poured into making the garden around him flourish and bloom, his heart has done the same, alongside mine. 

His embrace loosened, prompting me to look up at him. That goofy smile of his was still there- for someone who fretted about his teeth so much previously, it was amazing how gorgeous it was. So handsome. So very, well, him. 

And I couldn't help the laughter that bubbles up next, but it didn't matter, not with how it spread so quickly to Boris too, just as relieved and giddy as I was, and perhaps still wandering if this was a dream like I had been. 

"Ah, if onlee you had said somthing sooner... There were som lovelie lillies in bloom I daydreamed about giv-ing you, you knowe." He confessed. I smiled, and patted his arm reassuringly. 

"Oh, Boris- don't worry, they'll have time to bloom again. And I'll be here, still." I promised. And the smile he gave me was perhaps the sweetest I'd ever seen on him.

[comicteaparty]

January 15th-January 21st, 2020 Reader Favorites Archive

The archive for the Reader Favorites chat that occurred from January 15th, 2020 to January 21st, 2020.  The chat focused on the following question:

What sort of merchandise are you most likely to buy for webcomics you read and why?

carcarchu

does a physical copy of the book count as merch? nothing compares to the feel of a real book in your hands and watching my collection grow is so satisfying. i like having a tangible way to show my support. after that is small prints. i rarely see acrylic charms of webcomic characters but those are nice too

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

I know I'm particularly weak for enamel pins - which happen to be the first major merch I made for my first time tabling at a con. They're definitely the most common thing for me to consider purchasing from others. I also like small prints and stickers! And if a particularly cute character is somehow made into a plush... I'd be all over that, too.

Cronaj

For me, I love physical comics. So if a webcomic creator made a physical print version of their comic, that would be the best way to entice me to buy something. Comics almost always look better on paper in my opinion, and I'm a weirdo when it comes to book smell I sniff new books like an absolute degenerate. The other thing I would buy is art prints or art books. I have a huuuuge collection of art prints from creators I admire. So keep 'em comin'! I mean, I'll buy any merch that calls to me, but usually if I can't put it on a shelf, hang it on the wall, or wear it, I probably have no use for it.

Capitania do Azar

I'm a big fan of physical copies and charms of all kinds! I also appreciate stickers and small prints (big prints are nice, but take up a lot of space). Zines with side stories or related/concept art are also a good choice

keii4ii

Storage is a big issue for me, so I tend to not buy physical books unless like... it's a comic I would love to read but can't do so online easily (e.g. if the website doesn't function properly on my computer) I really like prints that have qualities/features that can't be replicated digitally -- e.g. foil, holo coating, VERY special paper texture, etc. (I've even seen one artist offer lenticular prints which I thought was awesome -- just wasn't into the characters that were on the art) Small to medium sized prints are fairly easy to store, so that's also a big plus for me! Also, clear plastic folders? I've never bought them admittedly, but those can look SO nice with the right type of art (some artworks look so special when printed on that clear material). I wish more people offered them so I could actually buy these, but I understand they can be costly to print.

Tired Programmer

I would buy physical copies as well. About the storage issue... Well, when I understand, that there are too many of them for my humble bookcase, I just sell or give old ones away. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ And also stickers. Stickers rock. (edited)

SAWHAND

I agree! If I really like the comic I like to have a physical copy! It feels special since I think a lot of times they're limited printing. I also really like stickers since they can just get put on something I already have and thus not take up extra space. I generally don't get prints because wall space is at a premium and I feel silly not having them hung up, but that's just a personal preference. Other than that it would have to be something really cool or something with function, like a notebook or...I don't know, an apron, or maaaybe a t-shirt.

mariah (rainy day dreams)

Printed comics are definitely my go to fav especially if it's a webcomic I've been really wanting to read but haven't had the time to do it online. Sitting down with a book is a lot easier for me that sitting with my phone or pulling my laptop out. I do also like stickers a lot. I've really gotten into covering the inside covers of my sketchbooks with them the last few years X)

kayotics

I usually go for printed books, pins, or plushies. If there’s a Kickstarter happening I’ll usually splurge for a pin tier if it exists. I don’t use stickers that much but I know a lot of people love them? But it’s not my thing.(edited)

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Usually printed books and phone charms. I will always buy webcomics that go to print and I collect charms. Other things like stickers and pins are nice, but often too pricey. I will go for them when they're bundled into KS tiers with printed books, though.

varethane

Printed books for me! Sometimes stickers, and sometimes enamel pina

Pins

I dont tend to get prints because I wont really do anything with them

(But my prints tend to sell decently, so there is a market for them out there...)

keii4ii

I just like collecting prints! I don't even put them on my wall, I just stick them in a binder kind of like my own custom-curated artbook

I really like seeing the combination of certain artworks and certain paper textures!

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

omg Kei...why have I not thought of that ?? I will now do that for all the print i've collected gosh!! and I agree with Vare, books are top tier merch I go for (zines included) Prints are a second for me, with charms and pins being the thing i least go for bc of space (though I am seeing pin boards come into fashion and I'm def into doing that as well!)

mariah (rainy day dreams)

I do really love pins too, I'm just really bad at remembering to wear them. I probably should get myself one of those clear back packs con goers wear.

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

oh yes ita bags!

varethane

The problem with me wearing pins is that I normally bike everywhere, while wearing a backpack

So if I put them on a jacket, the straps of the bag will rub on most of the good pin locations

And if they fall off while I'm riding my bike they are lost forever

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I tried putting pins on my backpack for a while.... only to come home and realise they fell off at some point during the day.

varethane

Yeah :(

mariah (rainy day dreams)

Ita bag! Yes! Lol I'm always super scared that my pins will just break and I'll loose them X') so when I do remember to wear one I'm constantly checking to make sure it's still on me

varethane

I have one jacket that I've been putting most of my pins on, which I wear to conventions

And it did pretty well except my rice boy pin fell off somewhere in the Seattle airport and is now lost forever :(

Betrayal......

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

i have def...super glued pins to my backpack before and the rubber backings are so bad for pins too bc they never hold

mariah (rainy day dreams)

Oh, patches are another thing, like pins, that I love but usually have to stop myself from getting. I need to find a good patch jacket, because I really love a patch. I've been wanting to make one for my own comic merch for a while too.

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

ohhh yes same-- i stll have patches that i havent done anything yet with bc i haven't found The Right Jacket

mariah (rainy day dreams)

Same TuT

Eightfish

I've got the Property of Hate tarot postcards up on my wall right now. Also partial to a good enamel pin. What I'd love to see in merch is a well designed, stylish shirt, but haven't really found that so far. I find webcomic shirts tend to be too detailed and illustration-y to look good as shirts, and would prefer something more graphic.

Q @CecilieQMT making WAYFINDERS

I'd love to design shirts! Just haven't figured out how to get them printed properly... ^^'

RebelVampire

For me, it's digital copies. So PDFs and eBooks. Unlike many people here, I can't stand print copies for a myriad of reasons. XD But digital copies I can get behind cause it supports the artist, has some nice bonus stuff sometimes, and generally collects everything nicely so some website hiccups aren't a problem. While this has never come up because it's rare, I would also buy plushies. Cause one can never have enough plushies. But alas, I don't think the market is there for that XD

kayotics

Plushies are just really hard to produce and store, same with T-shirts

Well, T-shirts aren’t that hard to produce, but they’re hard to store and keep a good amount of sizes

Mei

I tend to buy books/physical copies of webcomics I like! I really enjoy the physical reading experience! I also really like buying enamel or non-enamel pins. I enjoy collecting them, but going off what people have already said, I also have an innate fear of losing them :(

AntiBunny

If it has a cute character, and the price is in my budget, plushies are awesome. Unfortunately that's a difficult one to do, because small batches of plush that are build by hand are going to be expensive, and a comic has to be very popular to warrant more economical large runs. And I'll also say physical books.

Mei

plushies ARE awesome

I got the coyote plushie from Tom, the guy who does Gunnerkrigg Court

I just really love it

and also I couldn't decide which of the MANY volumes of comics to buy

(i didn't and still don't have space to stock up on a lot of books so I must be prudent sometimes)

((but my bed always has space for plushies))

[professional-anti]

Chapter Eleven: Magnus Bane

Okay, kiddos. Let’s go.

Jace and Clary leave the Brotherhood HQ, and Jace calls the cab driver a “brain-dead moron”. You know what, here’s the full quote:

Jace leaned forward and banged his hand against the partition separating them from the cab driver. “Turn left! Left! I said to take Broadway, you brain-dead moron!”

Oh, man, I’m so hot for Jace you guys. He’s so evil and cruel. I’m fanning myself. And the reason he wants to take Broadway? He wants breakfast. That’s it. It’s not a life-or-death situation. He wants fucking breakfast.

I like the idea of the diner they go to. A place where magical ppl can get together for some spaghetti. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this, but I LOVE the idea of a secret (or not-so-secret) magical Manhattan. It’s just so unfortunate that Clare’s is so bad.

Clarinet asks Jack-Jack about Magnus Bane. Jack-Jack explains that he’s a warlock. Alec shows up. Clare is the foreshadowing master.

Clary freaks out about a guy in front of the store who looks like a demon. Clary. Girl. Come on. You know about this stuff already. It’s been like two days. Calm down. Apparently he’s a bouncer (for a diner) and is the warlock equivalent of a squib.

Honesty, I love this diner. They have blood on tap!!!! That’s so cool!!!!!! Plus, the people eating there sound way more interesting than our MCs.

[A] boy with spiky blue dreads was sitting next to a beautiful Indian girl with long black hair and gauzelike golden wings sprouting from her back.

Gotta love how the only people of color are basically set-dressing, though. At least Simon is Jewish, even with the messed up antisemitic crosses-burned-into-him dream thing. Clare’s Jewish, though, so of course she represents only herself and leaves everyone else out in the cold.

Alec shows up:

There was a kinetic, almost feverish energy to [Alec] that hadn’t been there before. Something about Jace sharpened him, brought him into focus. If she were going to draw them together, she thought, she would make Jace a little blurry, while Alec stood out, all sharp, clear planes and angles.

Oh, here it is. The “poor gay boy only comes to life in front of hopelessly straight crush” trope. Bc Alec has nothing better to do than obsess over Jace, a boy who is currently being rude to the waitress. Does Clare honestly not know how annoying rude boys are?

Isabelle and Simon show up. Apparently, even Isabelle’s perfume is evil:

Isabelle’s hair tickled [Clary’s] face, smelling of some kind of vanilla perfume. Clary fought the urge to sneeze. She hated vanilla perfume. She’d never understood why some girls felt the need to smell like dessert.

Haven’t I mentioned? Clary is the best girl to ever girl. Isabelle can’t even order right. Instead of getting something reasonable, like a large order of coconut pancakes (gross, Clary), “Isabelle fastidiously order[s] a fruit smoothie”.

Jace goes off to flirt with the waitress. Clary is confused bc the waitress is a Downworlder and aren’t they, like, totally evil? Isabelle and Alec assure her that the only kill the bad Downworlders. The rest they let live.

“Like letting spiders live because they eat mosquitoes, Clary thought.” Uh, not really. The Downworlders aren’t spiders. They’re just people, living their lives.

“So they’re good enough to let live, good enough to let live, good enough to make your food for you, good enough to flirt with—but not really good enough? I mean, not as good as people.” Isabelle and Alec looked at her as if she were speaking Urdu. “Different from people,” said Alec finally.

This doesn’t really seem like such a difficult question? Isabelle and Alec are just trying to cover up their bullshit.

“Better than mundanes?” said Simon. “No,” Isabelle said decidedly. “You could turn a mundane into a Shadowhunter. But you could never turn a Downworlder into one of the Clave. They can’t withstand the runes.”

So Shadowhunters judge others based on their ability to become Shadowhunters? Seems not at all racist. I’m so glad we had this chat. Jace comes back and explains that there’s just a shit-ton of hostility between Shadowhunters and Downworlders, so it’s not really racism.

Miracle of miracles, Isabelle reveals that Magnus Bane has invited the magical community of New York to his house for a party. God, I love parties.

There’s a whole day before the party, so Simon and Isabelle decide to go for a walk in Central Park. For some reason, this makes Clary feel a “murderous rage”. These emotions are seriously not healthy.

Back at the Institute, Clary goes exploring in the library and finds a photo of her mom and other Order of the Pheonix members-cum-Deatheaters Shadowhunters. Evil Giles shows up and points out Valentine, Luke, the Lightwoods, Jace’s mom, and himself in the picture. Clary mentions that Jace doesn’t look anything like his father. What could this possibly mean?

Honestly, the concept of a book about the children of villains isn’t terrible. It really just the complete ripping-off of Harry Potter that annoys me.

Oh, God. Clary gets back to her room (armed with a sleeping potion from Hodge) to see Jace looking at her sketchbook. I’m not even good at drawing, and my sketchbooks are still deeply personal. You can’t just look in someone’s sketchbook! It’s like a diary! WTF, Jace!

In fact, Clary tells Jace that it’s  basically a diary and that he shouldn’t look at it. This should be obvious.

Wait, I’m laughing:

“You could try not being charming all the time,” Clary said. “It might be a relief for everyone.”

BITCH, WHERE???

Jace offers to tell Clary a bedtime story. It’s the famous falcon story, the one that Clare used in her Harry Potter fanfiction. You know, where Jace’s father gives him a falcon to train, and when Jace loves it, his father kills it. Proof that Jace is Draco.

Somehow, Clary makes the connection that this story is about Jace only as she falls asleep. Whatever.

Isabelle wakes up Clary. Again, a famous moment:

[Isabelle] looked like a moon goddess. Clary hated her.

Bitch, Isabelle is a moon goddess, and I love her.

Yes, we have a makeover scene!! My secret weakness. I’m sorry, fellow patriarchy fighters. Makeover scenes are just so good.

Isabelle continues to be the coolest person in this book:

Her room looked as if a disco ball had exploded inside it. The walls were black and shimmered with swirls of sponged-on golden paint. Clothes were strewn everywhere: on chairs, spilling out of the closet and the tall wardrobe propped against one wall. Her vanity table, its mirror rimmed with spangled pink fur, was covered in glitter, sequins, and pots of blush and powder.

I want this room!

Clary gets a slinky black dress, fishnets, and boots. I want this outfit, too. When Isabelle does Clary’s makeup, Clary asks if Alec is gay. For some reason, this causes an intense shock in Isabelle:

Isabelle’s wrist jerked. The eyeliner skidded, inking a long line of black from the corner of Clary’s eye to her hairline. “Oh, hell,” Isabelle said, putting the pen down. “It’s all right,” Clary began, putting her hand up to her eye. “No, it isn’t.” Isabelle sounded near tears as she scrabbled around among the piles of junk on top of the vanity . . . She sat down on the edge of the bed, ankle bracelets jingling, and looked at Clary through her hair. “How did you guess?” she said finally. “I—” “You absolutely can’t tell anyone,” said Isabelle. “Not even  Jace?” “Especially not Jace!” “All right.” Clary heard the stiffness in her own voice. “I guess I didn’t realize it was such a  big deal.” “It would be to my parents,” said Isabelle quietly. “They would disown him and throw him out of the Clave—” “What, you can’t be gay and a Shadowhunter?” “There’s no official rule about it, But people don’t like it. I mean, less with people our age—I think,” she added, uncertainly, and Clary remembered how few other people her age Isabelle had ever really met. “But the older generation, no. If it happens, you don’t talk about it.”

Okay. So. I’m trying to judge this for when it was written. But, like. Is the homophobia necessary? It’s kind of like the ridiculous sexism in ACOTA/R. It’s a choice the author is making, for, like, no good reason. This is a case of a straight author needlessly torturing her gay character. But since this was published in 2007, I feel like this has been talked out, so let’s move on.

IT TURNS OUT THAT ISABELLE’S ANKLETS ARE WEAPONS. I LOVE HER. WE ARE GETTING MARRIED. WEDDING INVITATIONS TO FOLLOW.

Ugh, Simon short-circuits bc Clary is wearing a short skirt. Please calm down, sweetie. You’re embarrassing me. Wait, what is even going on here? Jace gives Clary a dagger, and, uh, this happens:

“I could give you a thigh sheath to put that in,” Isabelle offered. “I’ve got tons.” “ABSOLUTELY NOT,” said Simon.

I’m actually laughing. Lol for real. What does this even mean? Is a thigh sheath too sexy or something? Simon, can you chill for .2 seconds? This isn’t your body. Let’s all take deep breaths.

Clary puts the dagger in the outside pocket of her backpack because there’s no way having to unzip a backpack to get to the dagger could bit her in the ass during a fight. Then Jace reaches over and undoes her hair bc, uh, shipping moment.

I’m so grossed out by the fact that in a short while, they will think they’re siblings.