#Maybe it's what you get after you hit a certain number of following. Idk. Or maybe it's divine punishment for the crimes I've committed

[randomsufff]

Ok fuck it- I keep seeing the Great Gatsby pop up (thanks Gravity Falls lmao) and recently saw The Great Gatsby on Broadway and I need to spill out my thoughts on this musical

I’ll hold off my grips with it compared to the book till the very end- since I know a lot of argument around this musical is that it’s an adaptation and the adaptors are liable for taking creative liberties. Which- yeah! That’s valid! But I’d argue that in order to adapt something successfully, if you’re gonna make huge (and I mean HUGE) changes to the source material, it’s gotta somewhat follow some reason that makes sense for the characters and/or adds some layer or depth to the story or else you get something like HBOs Velma. But more on that in either an entirely other post or later depending on how long this gets

Read bellow if you want a really fucking long, detailed description of the show and what I think it did right and very, very wrong.

I will say- as a TLDR rn- I thought the show was just…ok. Like- “yeah that show sure was a musical.” kind of ok. The good songs and amazing spectacle of a few of the numbers kinda cancel out the bad pacing and really questionable narrative choices the show made. Also- hearing Eva Noblezada sing live changed my life.

OK- so I’ll start out by saying- I believe we had basically all the original current cast except for Jordan Baker was played by Traci Elaine Lee (who was absolutely phenomenal so I’m not too sad about missing Samantha Pauly)

I really thought the show was ok. Like I don’t hate it vehemently but I don’t love it either. I feel like the only reason it’s so famous is because of its two powerhouse leads (Hot take? Maybe.) Anyways, I don’t know how to go about this so we’ll go list form

1) PACING WAS ATROCIOUS

Again, not even comparing it to the novel- the pacing felt really off and didn’t even make much sense story wise. Like we would rush past certain information and then linger on scenes that didn’t really need to be lingered on? At least to me, I felt like there was other stuff the show should have prioritized showing- CAUSE THATS THE THING WITH THIS SHOW- is that they TELL not SHOW a LOT of information- so it kinda just feels like you’re being tossed plot without experiencing it.

For example, literally as soon as the show starts, Nick and party goers just throw all the information about Gatsbys party and being mysterious at the beginning by telling us and not showing, like he never shown to be cryptically hanging around in the first like 20 minutes of the show (at least that I remember- there was a lot happening in the opening number 😭) . Which sucks because they did this REALLY COOL thing right before the show started where Gatsby was standing there and was immediately gone as soon as a screen passed. LIKE YOU COULDN’T HAVE THAT HAPPEN AGAIN WHEN THEYRE ACTUALLY TALKING ABOUT HIM???

(Also- recently saw a rehearsal (?) video where Gatsby like actually opened the opening song “Roaring On”, and that would have been great if they kept that! Because looking back, I felt like Gatsby had the least amount of stage time. Which probably I sn’t actually true, but it really felt like it. Like where is the main guy??? His first appearance (after his little disappearing act) is like, 20 minutes into the show. Idk for something that’s called “The Great Gatsby” he sure wasn’t on stage a lot. )

Then a couple scene later, Gatsby reveals to Nick- a man he JUST MET FACE TO FACE- that he’s in deep love with his married cousin and asks him TO HIS FACE that he wants him to set up a meeting with her. And then they move on. Like???

If you watched the show, maybe this’ll make sence to you, maybe this won’t, but it feel like they rushed past everything in the original source material, and only expanded and talked at length the aspects they wrote in.

Also the ending was so. Incredibly. Rushed. Like we don’t even get to see Daisys reaction to killing/hitting Myrtle. As soon as the fight at the Plaza ends everything else happens in like 15 minutes. Are you kidding me. WE DONT GET TO SEE DAISY ACTUALLY HIT MYRTLE. They did the ol’ “Bright lights get shined at the audience as character pretends to get hit” but that’s it! Literally THE REASON why Gatsby is killed and we don’t get to see it or their reactions in the moment. They just… tell us what happened instead of showing it to us. (“Daisy tried to swerve to the next lane but there was a car coming- and then… she just peeled off. She’s packing now…” YOU COULDN’T SHOW THIS TO US???) No idea of how Daisy or Gatsby reacted immediately after, only the next day. No rambled and frightened dialogue of their game plan, no glimpse into Daisys psyche where it’s shown she’s not going to choose Gatsby after all. Nothing.

Oh! And guess how long Gatsbys funeral was? Like a minute long. Just Nick sitting next to a casket in the background while party goers, Jordan and Wolfsheim dismiss Gatsby with a throwaway line. Like bro… that’s your main lead character… shouldn’t you give him, idk , at least more than a minute on stage when he dies? And like yeah I get that that’s the point that he’s forgotten, but I thought it was going to be more prominent than that! Give me Nick standing solemnly next to a casket thats dead center on a completely empty stage while he narrates how no one showed up. How despite the riches and infamy, no one, not even Jays own father (cause literally no one was by the casket on stage but Nick) showed up for his funeral. Instead of weirdly dismissing it like it’s not important?

2) NICK AND JORDENS “RELATIONSHIP”

Nah this actually pisses me off because there’s literally no point in this being so highlighted when it literally goes fucking nowhere.

So their relationship arc goes like this: Jorden says relationships sucks because she wants to be an independent woman in the 20s. Nicks like, I am not looking for a relationship but if we were in one I’d let you do all those things. They flirt, almost kiss, flirt more, do kiss, Nick says “let’s get married /j” Jorden says “yeah let’s get married /srs”, they get ENGAGED, they fight after discussing if they inadvertently caused Myrtle’s death (Jorden intentionally let Myrtle know where they were going that night), break up, and never speak to each other the rest of the show.

HELLO? What the actual fuck was the point of this then? If you wanted to expand Jorden to be the independent, feminist, girlboss *cough lesbian cough* that she is, just let her stay single?? She doesn’t need to be with Nick if you want her to be a part of the main cast.

The main problem I have with this is that the musical put wayyyy too much emphasis on it. And it’s so funny because there’s this big, dramatic, movie-esc pause Nick does after he says “I don’t want to marry you”, and sorry to the people who genuinely gasped, but be fr, are we surprised??? Jordan has been saying from literally her first line that men/marriage sucks, and that she would never do that willingly- then when she get married to a guy she knows for, at most? 1-2 weeks (idk how long the musical take place over), I’m supposed to take that relationship seriously????

In fact, I felt like their relationship often overshadowed Gatsby and Daisys, which shouldn’t happen, because the whole fucking shows about Gatsby.

For example, they steamrolled Gatsby and Daisys reunion with a budding Jordan and Nick plotline, for some reason??? Like they literally show Gatsby and Daisy seeing each other, have them say a few sentences wistfully reminiscing their first meeting, then have them go inside the house while their silhouettes are shown talking while the audience stays with Nick and Jorden OUTSIDE as they joke and almost kiss each other. HUH??? How are you going to literally push your years-long, slow burn yearning MAIN ROMANCE reunion to the side for a budding relationship that came out of nowhere and frankly dosent need to exist? And since we’re not going book accurate, you can actually SHOW how Gatsby and Daisy fall back into each others orbit, how their conversation went. But no.

It got so bad that I honestly can’t tell if one of the themes of this musical is something about marriage because of how much they pushed the “married/ people in a relationship” dynamic. Like what are you trying to tell me? All marriages are doomed??? I don’t even know (mayhaps just me being aroace)

What grips me the most is that they don’t even get any closure. Like they literally never speak to each other after that night Myrtle is killed. (Mostly cause the show ends literally 5 minutes later). The whole show they put these two together, build up their romance, show them having cute and funny moments together… all for what? For nothing?

AND I DID LIKE THEM. They were a cute couple, and their chemistry and jokes together were funny and charming. Their dynamic was interesting too, with Jordan wearing the pants, so to speak, and insisting she maintain her freedom while in marriage/ a relationship which wasn’t heard of in the 20s. But for all that to end because Jorden didn’t want to tell the cops Gatsby and Daisy possible ran her over/they’re partially responsible??? Like they INVESTED. SO. MUCH. in this relationship (to the point where they got ENGAGED???) that it feels so stupid and dumb for it to end like “wow you’re heartless :c I don’t want to marry you anymore :ccc” “well too bad, L, you’re guilty too asshole. Bye.”

AND what really grinds my gears is that if they cut this whole shit out, or at least made it more in the background, it would give more time to flesh out the few other problems I have with this show

3) SONG… EFFICIENCY (?)

Ok last point that’s not as much of a complaint as the others, but it was still something that bothered me. Some of the songs just say nothing/ repeat stuff we already know. Mainly thinking of (and sorry to people who like these songs- I’m not saying they’re bad! They’re just not a lot of info there) “For Her”, “Go”, or “Shady”

Like “For Her”, he’s just saying “I did [list of things involved with his fame/money] for her” for 4 minutes and you don’t even know who “her” is until like, the last line. Like this could have been a perfect opportunity to deep dive into Gastbys upbringing/ past, but the most the musical goes into Gatsby’s past is that he was in the war. Like you don’t get the sense that this man worked his way literally from the ground up for this woman. It’s just so repetitive that, even though it was Jeremy Jordon, I was getting bored halfway through.

AGAIN, this is not slandering Jeremy Jordan (JJ stans please spare me), you could have the most amazing Broadway singer sing with the best technique, but if it’s a dull, repetitive song, PERSONALLY, I’d be bored. They could have just combined this with another song, or as I suggested, add more purpose to the song and maybe put it later in the musical.

Similarly, “Go” (and, AGAIN, love Jeremy and Eva) was super repetitive and could have just been reduced to dialogue.

And “Shady”, though also a really good song, frankly could have been cut out. For some reason the musical really wanted Wolfsheim to be a main antagonist/prominent character and gave him this song- but there’s nothing in it that wasn’t already implied in the first Act and it really has nothing to do with any of the other characters, other then a vague “Jay and Daisy” gotta keep their affair secret (which… yeah I think we know that, but also to compare that to… hiding dead bodies and minding your own business- it’s???? Idk what they were going for)

(Tbh- I conversed with my dad who also mainly wanted to see the show for Jermey Jordan and Eva Noblezada and he said that none of JJ songs were that memorable, which I kinda agree with. He’s a great singer, a very talented man, but the songs he was made to sing in this show were not it. Just nothing of substance or catchiness. Which SUCKS. Because how are you going to get someone like Jeremy Jordan and not have him sing an absolute banger? But weirdly, none of his songs (maybe except “Only Tea” which I really liked) stood out which I’m so disappointed about.)

—————————

Ok that’s all just as it’s own thing (mostly) NOW MY FUCKING PROBLEMS WITH IT COMPARED TO THE BOOK

1.B) NICK AND GATSBY’S FRIENDSHIP

THIS IS THE BIGGEST ONE- Nick and Gatsby friendship is so fucking integral to the original, and it feels like it didn’t even exist in the musical.

Like regardless on whether you ship them or see them as friends- Nick was Jays only fucking friend. He was the ONLY ONE who truly cared about him and went to his funeral when no one else did. In the book, Nick did So. Much. just because he wanted to for Gatsby. Gatsby had to ask Jorden to ask Nick to set up his tea meeting, he attempts to charm and lavish him in trips, and even tries to pay the man to get him to agree. But Nick refuses and is even offended that Gatsby would pay him money for such a thing and immediately accepts the night he finds out. And they actually hung out! Like a lot! At least before Jay asks him for the tea request. And though it could been because he wanted to make it easier for Nick to say yes, they were friendly with each other, and felt like actual pals. Nick genuinely was worried about Gatsby at the end, and even tried to warn him about what he was attempting to do multiple times.

In the musical that bond is just… not there. They rush past meeting each other, they never hang out one on one, and any interaction between them seemed slightly aggressive or politely concerned, like one would be to a stranger, which they technically are!!! The only reason he agrees to Gatsbys plan is basically petty revenge against Tom for punching Myrtle and being an asshole to Daisy/ in general. (Which- I feel like a move thats so out of character for Book!Nick cause he also dislikes Daisy.) Like Nick never learns Gatsbys backstory here (I don’t think he ever tells it, not even to the audience).

The “ you can’t repeat the past” line seemed more aggressively exasperated in delivery then the more soft concern for a close friend I initially read it as. And the “you’re worth more then whole rotten crowd put together” line didn’t really hit as hard because they don’t feel like close friends and nowhere in the show has Nick expresses this pedestal he puts Gatsby on like in the book.

Literally the only times they’re together alone is their initial meeting, and setting up for tea at Nicks. Every other time either Gatsby is with Daisy or Nicks with Jorden. They could have at least put together a cool ass montage of them hanging together, using those moving panels, going through diffrent activities as Jay introduces himself with his Oxford and army line, instead of dumping it all on him on their literal first meeting in his study.

(Also noted that they made it so Gastby owns the property Nick lives on and is renting it out for the man. Idk why they did this- to make it so Nick is indebted to Gatsby??? Also Gatsby vaguely threatens/ says something with a condescending/threatening aura (???) before Nick leaves after Jay ASKS A MAN .5 SECONDS AFTER MEETING HIM FOR THE FIRST TIME FACE TO FACE for the tea set up. Like there was a moment where he held onto Nicks hand as they shake goodbye, held his eye and said a line (I forgor) and kinda stood there staring him down before Nick awkwardly left. LIKE WHAT WAS THAT???? WHO ARE YOU???? WHY??? Literally doing everything to make sure no one can ship them)

2.B) THEY STRAIGHT-IFIED MY BOY.

NICK WHAT DID THEY DO TO YOU. It felt like they wanted to take away any whiff of an implication that this man is gay. Like literally no build up to Jay and Nicks friendship, no meaningful scenes between the two, going head first and completely committing to Jordan, AND THE MR MCKEE SCENE BEING LIKE THAT.

AND MR MCKEE, IM SO, SO SORRY WHAT THEY’VE DONE TO YOU. They made him to be some predator who harasses Nick the whole party scene. And this could have been so. easy. to fit into the queer lens if the actor who plays Nick (Noah J Ricketts, fucking what a talented man) acted interested in Mr.McKee but was actively restraining himself and trying not to engage in order to save face in front of Tom and Co. (Please, please, please- making a prayer circle and manifesting that one of the later actors does this down the line) But noooooo, Nick is shown to be mildly uncomfortable while McKee follows him around (in an unfortunately a banger of a song) EVEN THOUGH IN THE BOOK NICK ACTIVELY ENGAGES WITH HIM IN HOMOEROTIC DIALOGUE AND EVEN GOES TO BED WITHBNANJSBSJB

3.B) Jordan’s Purpose

Already touch this before but what the hell was the point of Jordan here. I love the “cool independent woman in the 20s” angle they were going for, but then why the hell would you immediately shackle her to a romantic relationship with Nick when that goes against literally everything she stands for. And I’m not saying she can’t get in relationships, but the speed in which SHE of ALL PEOPLE, was like “Yes I want to get married to you for real” make me…

Sure it was said in the novel that Nick and Jorden were together, but he was always flighty about her; saying he was attracted to her but also hated some of her qualities (dishonesty and heartlessness). It wasn’t the main focus like it was here (I can’t even remember much of their relationship in the book tbh) and they didn’t invest so much in it as they did in the musical that it didn’t feel out of nowhere or too much of a big deal when they broke up. Like it fr felt like the musical held up a “Gasp Now” sign when Nick said he doesn’t want to get married to her cause they wanted that moment to hit so hard for some reason???

AND. There was an ACTUAL PURPOSE to Jordan relationship with Nick in the book (a representation of the wealth he was attracted to then repulsed by [*cough* also contributing the “Nick is Queer” lens *cough*]) they… kinda? did it in the musical? And it would have been boosted by Nicks new naivety in the musical, but it falls short because they never speak again, or really explain Jordan’s value on wealth and herself is why it went wrong other then a “you’re heartless” line that feels out of nowhere. (Idk maybe I was too focused on how pointless that relationship felt that I failed to noticed if Nick had a Big RevelationTM here on Wealth and Jordan)

4.B) Character Differences

Some of them are great, like there’s more dimensions to some, but some character choices, I’m like- that goes against everything they’re supposed to represent in the book.

Like I found it so weird how willing Daisy was to run away with Gatsby in the musical when in the book it was more obvious, at least I read it so, that she was holding back a bit and was never going to run with Gatsby that far. Like wdym Gatsby could have had it all if he just ran with Daisy then, WDYM HE SAID NO BECAUSE OF HIS PRIDE???? HUH? WHERE did this priority of PRIDE come from???? When Daisy’s RIGHT. THERE. Like she was sobbing, begging him to run with her. In what universe would Gatsby turn that down???

Like many people say, this seems like it’s supposed to be a love story between Gatsby and Daisy, but in the book it’s pretty obvious how Daisy isn’t as committed to Gatsby then she is Tom cause of their Old vs New money.

And Myrtle? Why did she suddenly turn back to George? I felt like the only reason why that happened is cause the creators wanted shock and tragedy factor. Like ��aw she finally found peace in where she is but oops now she’s dead”

And it would have been good if they actually showed why she thought this beyond the 3 minute song, cause that’s not enough time for someone who only chased after money to do a 180. Like, sure she figured Tom would just move on from her (YES EVERYONE CHEERED, GREAT CHARACTER MOMENT) but George isn’t shown to be that great either in his last moments with her. I mean he locked her in the house? Bathroom? and was pretty violent towards her. Sure we learn earlier that he’s doing a lot for her but we never SEE it. He sings to US the audience about his dream to move them out and live a nice life but not to HER which could have been a cute point of connection but nooooooo.

They also made Nick like, kinda naive. Like he really likes Daisy and Jorden and I guess Gastby (though it’s not shown) compared to his counterpart who know how money corrupts and kinda hates everyone (even Gatsby at points). Any I feel like they could have done well with making him naive to that fact, to really make this a tragedy (like Hadestown esc) but they fell short somehow. I think it’s cause the ending was so rushed. Like there wasn’t enough time to show the consequences of everyone’s actions and how hurt and changed he is. It all flys by in like 7 minutes.

—————————

Ok now we’re done being cynical- here are the good things I liked

1.C) The woman are 3-Dimensional yay/ Nicks also here

Myrtle’s song (Second-Hand Suit) is phenomenal. Great way to introduce more character and backstory to someone who originally had none.

Also, again, loved Jordan’s independence angle (if only they WENT SOMEWHERE WITH IT) and I lowkey loved the “well Tom cheats why can’t you” line and Daisy’s whole attitude as she one ups Tom in the dinner table scene. Also Daisy was already kinda complex in the book, but it really shows how turmoiled she is here and that’s interesting,

And despite how I kinda ragged on it, I really did like Nicks personality throughout the musical. He was sooo humorous in a way he wasn’t in the book. Also, thinking about it, his nativity is an interesting spin on his character that I really would have liked if it was executed properly.

2.C) The songs fucking slap

I can’t lie, most of these songs are bangers. I have half of the songs on loop. Not to mention the actors who sing them are absolutely incredible. I won’t lie, I was mostly interested in this musical cause of Jeremey and Eva; and Eva, holy shit, is an absolute powerhouse to witness live. I was So. Surprised by how effortlessly she sang notes and how clear and crisp they were (“Absolute Rose” was… idk what it was about that song, but I’m obsessed with how she sang that song, [except the “open” part? Idk it grates me for some reason???] even though it’s not my favorite song) Like she truly embodies Daisy Fay and it was incredible to see that in person.

However, the rest of the cast was so incredible too, ESPECIALLY MYRTLE (Chilina Kennedy). Holy Fuck is that woman amazing at singing. Her two songs she sang absolutely ate, like I’m obsessed with her voice. Wolfsheim (Eric Anderson) and George (Paul Whitty) also had amazing voices.

Also NICK??! Holy shit, I’m so sorry you’re not in like any promotional stuff cause you fucking killed it. The way I’m obsessed with how he sings “If only I’d knew then, that I would never be the same” in “Roaring On” and how he sings “The Met” is amazing

3.C) Visuals- kinda

Some of the visuals were ok tbh- kinda boring- but the ones that went big, WENT BIG. Of course “New Money”, “Roaring On” and “The Met” are the ones that stand out the most in my mind. “New Money” and “Roaring On” are exactly what you probably think it is, big dance numbers with sparks and huge lights. But I loved “The Met” cause the furniture slid around and literally moved around Nick while people drifted in and out of the room. It was just great to watch visually.

4.C) THE ENDING NUMBER HOLY SHIT

I. Love. Love. LOVE. How they brought back the opening number, and the theme of party goers going on from party to party to show how unimportant Gatsby was to the world, and how everyone moved on.

Like, Nick stood in the center of the stage, reciting the end of the book, in tears and voice cracking, as the ensemble in the back slowly get revealed and are just having a grand ol time looking for the next party. Just- chills. It was amazing conceptually and they pulled it off so well.

If the musical got nothing else in terms of structure going for it- at least they got the last minute right cause omg, I love when media has opposing moods in the same scene, and they did so well here.

—————————

Overall, yeah. Not horrible but I don’t love it. The lack in plot and nonsense relationships and complete disregard of the book didn’t totally ruin the musical cause I had a good time and liked the songs and such but I would not go back and re watch it.

I think of you know nothing about the book or anything about The Great Gatsby other then there’s a guy named Gatsby and he’s great and you just want a nice sounding show, you’ll probably like this, but people who are burdened by the knowledge of the book will be hung up on a lot of things I mentioned here.

Always, long ass post, congrats to anyone who actually read this real informal review. I haven’t gone into how this is a pretty bad adaptation, but I’ll have to do that in another post (if people want to see that) and another time cause this took my literal hours to type out.

(Tbh I might just do the adaptation essay anyways, cause I’ve written at least 4 papers on adaptation in media [and how Groundhog Day the musicals the best Movie to Musicals adaptation] and I love that shit)

[canonical-transformation]

Let's just assume that v5.2 is giving us a highly desirable 5★ Pyro character who is at least Raiden levels of versatile, and maybe Furina or Nahida levels of "changes what teams are viable". (I'll be using female pronouns but let's also assume it's not a Himeko expy. Expectation management etc.) Let's also assume no new reactions / buffs, etc. Worst of all, let's assume the "Pyro is passion damage" truism holds.

4 potential Pyro kits that I hope we don't get (and 2 I'm okay with)

1: On-field Pyro DPS

(Why I don't like it: power creep.)

You know the drill. Big numbers, Pyro infusion, low enough ICD (or fast enough attacks) for reasonable XQ+YL reverse vape setups.

Less shield-dependent than HT+Arle, less poise-dependent than Yoimiya and Lyney, faster than Yanfei and Diluc, and, idk, stupidly high multipliers. ATK buff that scales on ATK because why not.

Example:

Press E to enter the Fiery Fire state, gaining a Pyro infusion increasing ATK by 50% of her current ATK.

Talent: after dealing a certain amount of DMG, deal a blast of AoE DMG.

Talent: when in the party in the overworld, if playing on mobile, all enemies move at 50% speed

2: Off-field Pyro DPS

(Why I don't like it: power creep.)

Example:

Press E to summon a Pyronado (20s duration 10s cooldown).

Press Q for a few hits of burst damage (Miko but 2× speed and homing), which simultaneously count as NA CA Skill and Burst DMG.

Talent: Elegy of the End

Talent: Alley Hunter

No ICD on anything.

When crafting Character Talent Materials, 50% chance to receive double the

3: fast weak off-field Pyro application

(Why I don't like it:) Burgeon is a niche, Thoma. I love and respect you but it's a very specific niche.

Example:

Press E to summon the Salon Des Dragons[...], which deals frequent Pyro damage and also coordinated attacks.

Talent: Burning can stack up to 3× damage and remains even after the Pyro or Dendro aura leaves. The Salon's attacks do not deplete Hydro aura. Overloaded pulls enemies in.

When crafting Character Ascension Gemstones, 50% chance to refund a portion of the materials used.

4: ATK buffer

(I.e. power creep)

You know, Pyro!Bennett. Less circle impact and more Navia's deal (or a Nahida sized circle). Swap the healing for damage prevention, perhaps, or follow Furina's footsteps and throw in some all-Element DMG% or Crit DMG% buff.

Green eyes optional.

5: Debuff (Pyro!Mona, Pyro!Lisa)

If Pyro is the "more damage" element and we don't want a Bennett 2.0, how about shredding RES better that Zhongli, or a less front-loaded Mona, or... all of the above?

Apply a debuff however we see fit. Nahida (E), Arlecchino (E), Mona (Q), Hu Tao (Q or E+CA), all have reasonable debuff triggers, as is a passive off-field effect. For wave clearing specifically(*), Yoimiya's target-jumping burst aura would also be pretty reasonable.

(*) after 4.1 (Peaks and Troughs) and 4.4 (Triumphant Frenzy) I think an endurance wave-clearing mode might be a viable endgame mode direction, RIP Nahida.

As for the debuffs, RES shred and/or DEF shred seem fine (the former being a nice boon for transformative reactions). Status curse that lowers enemy level if you want to be fancy :P

6: Off-field chip damage support

Consider our favourite leyline disorders, Smoldering Flames and Tracking Fire Ball, I guess this would... work? Arle+HT already do a little bit in the "DoT" niche but that's not their main deal.

E: Grant party a Curtain of Smolder. While under this effect, gain a Morning Star every 0.8s. If there are 4+ Morning Stars, consume them and launch a fireball at a nearby enemy (prioritising high HP) for stupid amounts of AoE damage. Whenever a party member under the Curtain of Smolder uses a Burst, gain a Morning Star. Whenever a party member deals DMG (max once per character per 1s), gain a Morning Star.

Q: oh yeah also all the enemies are taking ATK scaling Pyro DoT. Yeah it ignores defence. Yeah not removable.

Talent: While in the Curtain of Smolder state, the active character's attacks deal additional poise damage if they're not a Claymore user, additional fixed DMG if they're not a Bow/Catalyst User, and have increased ATK SPD if they're not a Sword/Polearm user.

When forging Mystic Enhancement Ore, 50% chance to receive 1 Primogem

[itskatastrophe-x]

Finally Home (c!Sapnap x Reader)

I let my twitter followers decide who I wrote a oneshot for, and they wanted c!Sapnap, so here it is :) Written in the span of like... Idk 2 hours?? It’s a soulmate AU where you can feel everything your soulmate feels when you get in a certain distance of them and it gets stronger the closer you get to them. I hope yall like it!!

Word count :  2,701

^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^

There it was again. That burning sensation on the palms of your hands. You didn’t understand where it came from or why it was happening, but it hurt like hell. You wondered if it would ever stop, but you doubted it would. You knew the stories all too well but figured it would never happen to you, and slowly your fears confirmed it as all of your friends got theirs and eventually found their person. A soulmate. The way they talked about how they could feel what their soulmate felt on a physical level. They would feel light brushes against their arms or bumps when the other person would be somewhere busy. All of your friends had found their other halves years ago, explaining that when it happened there was a jolt like electricity in their bodies. After all of your friends had abandoned you, you had given up hope in ever finding your person. So you travelled. For miles and miles and miles, seeing every country, village, and kingdom your empty heart desired. You had lost everyone you loved and couldn’t even find your soulmate. 

Then it happened all too suddenly. If you had to guess, it happened when you got within range of the person, so you kept up your pace and travelled. It was an unpleasant sensation. It felt like fire all over your body. At first it was a small stinging, then the farther you travelled, the closer you got to this person, it grew. You would wake up in the middle of the night screaming because of cuts and wounds your other half would experience. You wished it was something as simple as the things your friends had gone through, but this was a nightmare. You wished you could meet this person once and for all just so you could give them a strong right hook to the jaw, then changed your mind as you remembered that you would also feel it. 

You knew by the things you were going through that this person was crazy and potentially dangerous with the amount of wounds this person was accumulating through the weeks of you travelling, so you did your best to be delicate. Whenever you would feel a new pain, you would prepare healing potions and drink them in hopes that the other person would also feel the effects. Either that or, if it didn’t feel like a gash or deep cut, you would trace your fingers over the spot gently to sooth the other person to let them know you would comfort them. What you couldn’t stand, though, was the feeling of fire dancing around your fingers. You eventually learned to tune it out and numb yourself to it, so it wasn’t nearly as bad as it was when it started, but it was still painful and annoying.

Then it stopped as suddenly as it started. For three whole days. Three. Days. After the first couple hours of the first day you started to worry. It was rare that you got a single second of rest from this crazy asshole, but three days? Part of you hoped he wasn’t dead, but the other part was happy you didn’t have to deal with scratches, bruises, and burning. But you missed it so much that you wished the burning in your palms returned. Nothing stopped you from continuing on though, even though you had no idea if you were going the right way anymore or not. You used the pain as a guide for weeks to lead you closer, but when it stopped, you lost your physical compass. Something in your heart told you that you were still heading towards them though, so you kept on, this time faster and without much sleep. You wanted to make sure this person was ok, and fast. You watched all of your friends leave you, you couldn’t have your literal soulmate leave you as well. 

When the third day ended and you were about to fall asleep, you felt it. The smallest little touch to your cheek you had ever felt. It was out of the blue and you had never felt such a touch come from the other person, so it woke you up instantly. You laid there for a moment, the stroking on your cheek so soft and faint that you wondered if it was even the person at all. Slowly, you lifted your hand to your other cheek and caressed it. The feeling on your other cheek stopped, but the feeling of a hand still stayed there. That’s when you knew it was them. They knew you would feel it, but probably weren’t expecting you to return the feeling to them. The stroking started again, so you stroked your other cheek for them as well. Then it hit you. Why had you never thought of it before? After weeks of knowing you had a soulmate out there, it just now hit you. You sat up from your bed in the little hotel you were staying at and tapped your leg. The feeling on your cheek stopped then you felt the same tap on your leg again. You smiled and pressed your hand down for a second and felt more pressure a couple seconds later. 

Then you started. At first it was a smiley face, then letters one at a time to write to the person. You asked their age first. Then you felt the pressure of the person writing back. “20”. You drew yours back, then they drew a smile to confirm they got it. You asked their name. “Nick” they wrote back. Then you wrote yours. You got as much information as you could from this small communication as possible so you could find him easier. After your small exchange, you got up, got dressed, packed your things and headed towards a location called “Dream SMP”. You had seen it on maps before, but it was so far away that you thought you would never get there. You had already crossed oceans, rivers, and mountains for this man, but now you had a new fire to feel. A fire burning so deep in you that it ignited in your eyes. You used all the money and resources you had to get there. You bought boats and horses for the days leading up to your arrival.

After over a month of travelling, you finally made it to the outside borders of what was known as the DreamSMP. The streets were full and bustling with life. Most people smiled and greeted you as a new member, fully accepting you the second you set foot on the land, others scowled or threw hateful words your way, possibly thinking you wouldn’t hear, or maybe they hoped you would so you would leave. You asked around about this person “Nick” and got an overwhelming response of happy chatter and protests of anger, so you left as politely as you could to search on your own. 

You felt like it would take forever to find this other person if all of the streets and businesses would be this crowded and overwhelming, until you came across one man standing at the edge of a river with his eyes closed and a smile on his face. His fluffy brown hair flipped up in the front and slightly waved in the breeze, the colors he wore matching his vibe completely. You approached him cautiously at first, but felt comforted by the aura he gave off. You cleared your throat quietly, so as not to startle him, and he opened his eyes slowly to greet you, the lightest shade of blue you had ever seen. He gave you a soft smile and waved you over, so you complied. 

For a second, you wondered if this was him, but you took note of his soft, clear looking skin and the lack of electricity as you neared him. When you got next to him, he pointed across the river to a very ornate village sitting on the hills surrounded by flower forests. “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?” You stared in awe at the mushroom buildings and statue and smiled at him. “I’ve travelled a long way to get here and passed hundreds of kingdoms, but this tops them all,” you replied. He made a noise of agreement and smiled, content with your answer. “Well, tell me, new face, how did you make your way to Kinoko Kingdom, and why are you here?” There was no malice in his voice as he asked and you could tell he was being friendly so you knew you wasn’t being standoffish. “I came to meet my soulmate,” you answered. His eyes went wide and met yours, a look of shock on his face. “Th-that’s you?!” You looked at him, furrowing your brows. How did he know? As if to read your mind, he continued. “I knew he was expecting someone, but, wow… I mean… He’s gonna want to meet you now. He literally hasn’t shut up for weeks about you.” You stammered for a second as he grabbed your hand and started running, barely giving you any reaction time to keep up with him. He was fast and energetic and you liked it. He seemed friendly and bubbly and his touch was comforting. 

He weaved in and out of streets and occasional bystanders watching the two of you with wide eyes and gaping mouths. You took it these people didn’t see many new faces, seeing as they were small in numbers. He didn’t slow down until both of you were panting in front of a giant cherry blossom tree in front of the biggest library you had seen. You could hear a loud voice echoing out of the open hole, acting as a doorway. The man next to you put a hand on your shoulder and you looked over at his grinning face. “I should explain before you get in there… My name is Karl and Sapnap, or Nick, is my fiancé. Now before you get worried, we’re in an open, poly relationship and he’s talked to me about all of this and I am 100% welcoming you into our little family.” He gave you a warm smile that reached his eyes so you knew he was being sincere. 

A booming shout broke your thoughts and you felt a pain in your toe that almost made you fall over, then loud laughter erupted. You smiled and shook off your foot as Karl motioned you inside, and that’s all you needed to run inside. The space inside was open with books lining the high walls. There was a staircase to your right, a mushroom in the far back, and a balcony above your head. There you saw him. At first he stood there laughing with the other man in front of him, not realizing you were inside, so you stared. You felt something like fire dancing across your skin lightly as you watched him with wide eyes. He was more beautiful than anyone you had ever seen. He had his jet black hair tied into a messy, low bun at the back of his head, a scar across the length of his face that went across the bridge of his nose. He had a light dusting of freckles across his rosy cheeks and the most piercing eyes. The man in front of him caught onto your stare and nudged the man, pointing down at you from their spot on the balcony. When his eyes met yours, a shiver went up your spine and your skin felt hot, like you were now encased in a cocoon of fire. For a moment you both just stared at each other, not being able to move, until you felt a pair of hands push you gently from behind.

That’s all it took to move you. You took off towards the stairs and took them two at a time as he ran to meet you on the landing. You collided into the biggest hug that knocked the wind out of your lungs and almost sent you flying backwards, but he kept you steady. Your eyes welled up for a moment and you laughed into his chest. He smelled like a campfire, fir trees, and old books. He was so warm and your body fit his so perfectly under his arms. You heard footsteps coming up the stairs and a soft touch to your shoulder, a small hum coming from Karl behind you. “Thank god you’re finally here. Sapnap literally would not shut up. He always talked about how soft you were with him when he knew how hard it must have been for you. Weeks. Weeks.” Sapnap reached an arm out to punch Karl, but he dodged easily since Sapnap still hadn’t let you go. You chuckled and closed his eyes as he put his arm back over your shoulder and squeezed you closer to him. 

“I can’t believe you’re real,” he whispered into your hair. He squeezed him and smiled. “You thought I wasn’t?” He sighed and relaxed his shoulders. “I thought you would hate me. I’m so reckless and get hurt all the time. How could anyone want me if they feel what I feel?” You pulled back to look him in the eyes and you gave him the most genuine smile you had ever had on your face. “You’re stupid. Of course I would be here. And I will stay here. I’ll take care of all your bumps, scrapes, and stabs. The pain means nothing so long as I know you’re ok.” His pointed ears turn a bright red and he averts his gaze to the floor, so you bring your hand to his cheek gently. At first he flinches, but soon closes his eyes, sighs, and leans into your hand, his lip slightly quivering from such tenderness. 

“I do have one question, though.” He hums, not opening his eyes. “Why do my palms always burn? Do you just, like, constantly sit around a campfire?” He chuckles and slowly lifts his head, eyes opening to look at you. He pulls back from you slightly, keeping one arm around your waist as he watches his hand, then back to your face to watch your eyes on his hand. In an instant, his hand is surrounded by fire, the burning in your hand starting up. He must have liked the look on your face because he lets out a snort and then starts laughing, all while you stand there in awe at the power he held. “Holy shit… And… And that’s real fire? Just like that?” You look back at him and he gives you a shy smile and a nod of his head as the fire goes out. There was a sparkle in your eyes that he was absolutely enchanted by and he hoped he would get to see that for the rest of his life. You let out a small huff of amazement and smile brightly. “You are the most amazing person I have ever met,” you say quietly as you watch his features soften as he’s left speechless. 

“Oh get a room,” the guy behind Sapnap says, his voice thick with an accent and sarcasm, the sound of a smile in his words. Sapnap looks at the man and points at him, shooting off a mini fire at him. His shirt catches for a second before the man screams and smacks himself to put it out. You laugh as you watch the exchange and Sapnap looks back at you, thinking of how beautiful your laugh sounds. “Well,” Karl starts. “We have a lot to talk about! Ooooooh this is so exciting! We need to know more about you!!” He grabs both of you and pulls you down the stairs and out to the pond next to the tree out front, the sun finally setting over the hills, casting a gorgeous, fiery glow on your soulmate’s features. You couldn’t wait to see what their life was like. To kiss all of his scars and tell him how amazing he was. To run your fingers through his raven feather-looking hair. Oh how you loved this.

[lwt28brave]

LT2 masterpost

If it was up to me, we would get an autumn or winter EP. Since it’s not up to me at all, here, enjoy this post with everything we know so far of LT2, which is to say, not much at all. Everything here is hypothetical. I’ll be updating every time I see something relevant. A little disclaimer that while this is a masterpost (kinda), it could be read as discourse (duh, it’s also a theory), AND it’s also by me, and you shouldn’t expect me to be serious at this point.

Due to me restraining myself, there’s no reference to any of the times he’s mentioned his guitar skills and him improving but I hope you know I cried every single time.

I’m also linking my old pinned here. It was written before AFHF and around the free merch thing that didn’t lead to much, but I still think I made some good points.

Possible tracks:

Copy of a Copy of a Copy

Change

Faith in the future??

369??

Possible names:

369

Faith in the future

When is the album coming out?

Your guess is as good as mine

Friday 28th of January 2022. Almost two years after Walls. It’s a Friday. It’s a 28th. What else can I say?

Here you can find @want-to-be-loved timelines for every month.

Here you can find @berlinini’s timeline of what Louis has been up to this year (2021).

The rest is under the cut. And here you can find a PDF version where Tumblr can't tell me how many pictures I can add.

2020

He said back on May 2th 2020 he wasn’t writing anything new yet.

(x)(x)(x)

Interestingly enough, he’s said many times after that that the album’s not ready cause he has no new experiences to drawn from. I won’t call him out because he does it himself.

May 4th. He liked a tweet from DMA’s Johnny Took saying they had to go write together again. Louis has been credited as an influence for them and (kind of) participated in their previous record, so I’m assuming he meant for their music and not his, but you never know.

Nothing(literally nothing??? how did we survive) until 11th of July. We all know what happened that day. We all celebrated it. Nonetheless, that’s not what I’m talking about here.

(x) So, by the beginning of July 2020 he was working on concepts and ideas for the new album. That was fifteen months ago. I know perfection takes time but…

Brief summary of important things that happened from then until the next mention of new music:

Louis left Syco!!!! 10 days later he rescheduled the tour for the first time. He followed Matt Vines on Twitter, probably so we could publicly shame him into doing something. Also, the 10thanniversary. He followed more people I wish he hadn’t.

Then more nothing until September. Not even a single tweet. The first merch drop was on the 28th of August but he just RT’ed the tweet. He first mentioned Free my Meal on the 25th of September. Then on October 1st Walls hit #1 on a lot of countries and Louis was incredibly happy and excited about it ^^

And then, that same day, October 1st, 2020, he dropped this bomb:

(x)

He also said it was too soon to be sharing new lyrics with us (x)

And, obviously, this tweet which is actually what made me start this whole post. I would hope you know mate.

(x)

He also told us he was cooking "banger after banger" and that he was incorporating more social themes into his music (x)(x) (I believe any social issue is a political issue but that’s not the point rn).

COPY OF A COPY OF A COPY?!?!

These next paragraphs are brought to you by my mind not remembering things and me not having any links. I’m assuming COACOAC came from those writing sessions that supposedly happened in October. Or in LA but I have no idea if he actually was in LA at any point other than a Daily Mail article putting him there on December which would have been too late, but I do remember that someone said he was in the studio in LA last autumn???? A rumor. Maybe. IDK. Did I mention already all of this is very hypothetical?? Well, this is it. I can’t even remember if this was October or November or what. So, take this with a grain of salt.

I’m also… taking the liberty to assume, if you must, that Copy wasn’t meant to be a Walls reject because it sounds more mature and darker and it has a vastly different tone that Walls songs. I know he’s said that song probably isn’t getting into the album, but I want to have faith (in the future) that I’m getting a studio version. (But also, Louis, if you’re reading this, first of all GET OUT OF MY BLOG second of all, please don’t ever feel pressured again to add a song to the album because we have already heard it before. It’s your art and it should always be under your own terms).

So yeah, I believe that Copy is either one of those four songs (then imagine the other three??!!) or was written around the 1st of October date.

---End of the Intermission---

Then not much important (other than sharing more about Marcus Rashford fight against food poverty and the 2nd merch drop) until he announced the livestream on the 24th of November. (x)

It wasn’t until a few days before the livestream date we even thought again about new music (jk, I know we’re always thinking about new Louis’ music). So, December 9th/10th, 2020. Nine months ago. We got our first taste of new music!

He made sure we knew Copy of a Copy of a Copy isn't a cover! (x) (x)

(x)

Ok, so that’s it for 2020. (I feel like I’m missing something from September 17th because tweet was deleted but maybe he was still talking about cucumbers. We might never know. Unless I understand how Tumblr tags work). Expected, cause Walls was released in 2020. We needed to let it sit for a while.

2021

Another Summary: Louis third tweet of the year was telling the UK government off. So was the fifth. What a good beginning. On the 26th of January, he said he prefers pancakes over waffles. I hope he meant pancakes other than his own. More importantly, he tweeted the infamous “you lot read into things too much”. Don’t get me started, Tomlinson. Don’t. Then the 31st came around and Walls was one. He tweeted this. How wise. And Project Defenceless happened!!

15th of February!! Who cares about Valentine Day when the next day we got this? ♥

(x)

(x)

So…AN EP?? AN EP?? PLEASE RELEASE AN EP.

“I’m sure I will have something out this year but unlikely that will be the album”. Unlikely but not impossible. Also. A single would be good. This is the second time he mentions releasing something in 2021 and he sounds surer about it than the first time around.

He also said that he isn’t sure we will get a studio version of Copy. And that the best bridges from Walls to LT2 are Walls, OTB, KMM and Copy. Can’t wait!

Then we jump to March 6th when he announced he was going to create his own management company. “Sometimes action is needed first to encourage the motivation and belief”. As we can tell he was already manifesting some stuff which will lead us to the numerology stuff/Tesla… kidding. Or not. We might never know.

On the 22nd of March he answered some questions:

He told us music was still his main focus ♥ mwha. (x) I included this tweet to guilt-trip him into giving us music in case he’s reading this even after I told him to leave. ILY.

(x) I’d love to get a visual EP this autumn. Just saying. It sounds like a lovely concept.

(x)

…next (I will get into it, I promise. I’m just mad).

On the 25th he left for Mexico until April 10th. You could assume it was just for the documentary where we got ten seconds of footage or admit the obvious: LT2 its a Mexican baby!!

On the 26th (so, not so far apart from that first 369) we got the first Faith in the Future mention: (x)

Back then we were innocent people who had no idea what was coming upon us. We still have no idea because what the fuck does he mean with these. Please explain. I have one braincell and I don’t use it enough for this. I’m linking some theories.

On the 30th of March he confirmed he was already working on the documentary. So AFHF was already on the works. Will it take this long for us to get the Veeps numbers? We also got this tweet: "Got a decent chorus idea down" (x).

Same person that got the “something out this year” exclusive. If you know something share with the class. Also. Is this Change? I feel like this could be Change but I also assume he wrote Change after hanging out with his friends or being in Doncaster. But who knows.

(x) And the second mention to 369.

(x) 15th of April. The second "Faith in the future".

On the 19th of April he announced that he had something BIG for us later on the year which turned out to be the Away From Home Festival ♥♥ (x) I love him so much.

Then on the 28th he announced the 369 merch drop (which it’s probably the Walls drop? Except that the TOU and KMM ones were “drop 1 and drop 2” and this was drop 369 which, again, makes no sense) but we still don’t know what 369 means.

Into May’ 21 we go.

He rescheduled tour again. And dropped another bomb (x).

He announced he has signed with BMG as an independent artist by RTing this tweet on May 10th. The article also says that he’s already working on writing and recording LT2. The timing… we don’t know. What this deal involves… we don’t know either. Bear with me here because I have a lot to say about this.

I think the deal is only a distribution one, but that BMG are interested in Louis and what he (us) could bring to the table. They were either present at the festival or watching it, but officially they had no involvement at all with it (everything is credited either to Louis own company, 78 Productions, or Charlie Lightening’s company). That’s the case for both giveaways too; the vinyl one and the tickets for the festival.

I think it would be an unbelievably bad move not to test the waters with BMG now or soon-ish. At least a single, to see how it performs. Due to the circumstances, it’s obvious there’re certain limitations on place but I want to see how they push it, whether the radio play exist this time around and if the song is playlisted and promoted and all that… I would also love to know, since it says he signed with BMG UK, but it also states it’s a global deal, how things are going to go on the US and other countries.

Yes, yes. I know those are all questions and no answers. But I know the same as you, sadly. If any of you know more than you’re letting on… again, share with the class.

Where was I? Yes, on the 25th of May Louis had a great day writing (x). Since the first time he had mentioned he was officially writing to this date there’s almost eight months. And I believe he was writing before October’ 20.

He followed Robert Harvey that day and, on the 28th of May (why is it always the 28th???) he was spotted at the studio for the first time.

June was an interesting month for the fandom ♥. Lots of LHL content which I will love and cherish for the rest of times. On June 4th, June 9th, and June 10th he was spotted at the studio, but I believe he was there more days.

(x)

This was posted on June 6th and captioned Studio. Charlie also shared it with “Mega tunes being put down, can’t wait for this @louist91 #louistomlinson #LT2” as the caption. This gives me 2019 (Elton-Joint) vibes. I like it. Feels like we’re getting closer to something.

He added the Milano date on the 9th too which I’m mentioning because I’m going alone. Anyone wanna go with me please? I’m nice and I never eat anything before a concert so you can have my food. On other news. It didn’t come home.

During July he was at the studio at least three days too. Probably more. Feels like more with all the fan pictures we got. Or was that June? Anyway, July 1st and 9th we got some videos from Robert Harvey and wearesuperhi, which is who Louis has been working with the most, that we know of. I don’t know for sure they’re from that day. And on July 5th we got an article and lots of pictures of Louis looking really good outside the studio.

On the 12th of July the first fans started getting the free, 369 bucket hat and print. We still don’t know what the purpose was other than to thanks fans. Maybe that was it. I want answers and I still think it relates to a future project (see theories above), but it could also just be a bridge with the Walls breaking.

He didn’t tweet about anything interesting for a while, mostly because he lost his phone (he either throwed it in the air or smashed it who knows). Then on the 29th of July he announced the festival!

I’m glossing over it because there’s already been a lot of talk about it (rightfully) and while it was a wonderful thing, it doesn’t have much to do with LT2.

Let’s talk Change!

On August 3rd he tweeted this about the setlist.

(x)

And this (x) on the 28th! I can’t stand him.

We didn’t get it, obviously. Because who was going to get that. But we read too much into things. Alright.

On the 16thof August Dave Gibson shared this post tagged #LT2 with the eyes emojis 👀👀👀. I believe this has to do both with Change but also with whatever else came out of that Mexico trip.

(x) Last relevant tweet related to LT2 is this one.

So, on the 30th of August we got Change and we cried, and we know that Change is going in the new album. He said it. With those exact words. He also said he was “getting a feeling for it”. This has to meant he already has a general idea of the vibe of the new album and what’s going in it!!!!!! (Right? RIGHT?).

Anyway, let’s go back a few weeks because some other things happened on August. He was at the studio a few more times. Or it was suggested that he was there. On the 17th and the 18th. (Why was it so time-pressing to be at the studio instead of rehearsing for the festival? There was no studio at all on the documentary. Which makes sense, but again, then why?).

On the day of the festival we got another mention of Faith in The Future that made me feel part of a cult ngl. The words were flashing on the screen for less than a second. Okay.

And then he tweeted those words again after watching the livestream/documentary on the 4th of September (x). This is what makes me suspect it's either the name of the album or of the single.

On the same day, we got some interesting quotes about LT2 on the documentary.

“Soon I’ll have to think about me second album, which in my head I’ll get the tour out of the way and then I’ll address that. So, I hadn’t really given it much thought, to be honest”.

“When every day is the same is hard to feel creative and it’s hard to have any kind of proper inspiration”.

“As season started to come back, I started writing again and it was great and some of these songs turned out alright”.

And I think this is it. I might be overlooking some important details but that’s what we know and what we don’t know.

So. Conclusions. That’s what you missed on Glee. I do believe the album is, if not mostly done, partially there. And yes, this post is pointless and never-ending but it’s all in here if you need to tell Louis “Hey, you said this, mate”.

[vampire-the-askerade]

Do you think Gary can ballroom dance? IDK I just really wanna go out all Disney princess and dance with him in a ballroom. Maybe prince Croissant invited you to some fancy party with the primogen to impress you, but you spend the entire party dancing with Gary

Another night another Camarilla event to attend. Two things made this worse though; the fact that this one was even stuffier than most as it was the annual masquerade(turns out they actually did have those) and, even worse, Sebastian LaCroix of all people was hounding you the whole night. You weren't sure what his angle was, but you didn't want anything to do with it. If you had told yourself when you were a kid that you would be at a Masquerade and were being pursued by a prince similar to Cinderella, you would have thought it was a dream come true. This was turning out to be a nightmare. So, here you were practically hiding in the corner as you waited for enough time to pass so that you could leave without drawing attention.

As you were looking around the section of the large dance hall you had found yourself in, you noticed that there were actually plenty of Nosferatu around too. They didn't tend to show up to many things, especially in large numbers, unless it was a very important occasion. Sadly, there was still plenty of prejudice to go around from the other clans as most of the Nosferatu in attendance were wearing full-face masks instead of the partial ones that others had. "You look like you would rather be getting a face full of sunshine." A gruff voice pulled you from your thoughts. Even though it was muffled by a mask that voice was recognizable in an instant; Gary Golden. You snorted back a slightly bitter laugh, "You got that right. How can you primogen stand to attend these things all the time?" He snickered at your whining. "Well, it does help when you can disappear and leave whenever you want to."

Before the conversation could continue father, Gary saw you crinkle your nose in slight disgust. "Tryin' to avoid someone, Boss?" He gazed over to the area of the hall that you were looking at to see LaCroix also searching through the crowd and trying his best to get out of the conversation that he was in. "Oh, avoiding a certain, important someone!" He teased you causing you to roll your eyes. "Yeah, he's been following me the whole night!" Gary was suddenly hit with some sort of devious idea based on the smile the spread on his face; sure, it was mostly covered, but his eyes gave away everything. The next thing you knew he had taken you by the hand and was leading you somewhere.

"Where are we going?" You asked after a few minutes of being lead around by the steel-like grip on your hand. "Somewhere that he can't follow without breaking about sixty social formalities; a Venture's worst nightmare." He cackled as he continued to lead you across the hall. It suddenly dawned on you that he was leading you to the dance floor, and you subconsciously started to dig your heels into the floor. "Oh, I- uh, I'm not really the good at-" There was a reassuring squeeze on your hand. "Don't worry, kid. All you have to do is follow my lead."

You knew that there was plenty more to ballroom dancing than just following your partner's lead, but there was no more time to question it before he was placing his hand on your waist and swaying the two of you into the crowd of other dancers. You just hoped that you didn't step on his toes too much during this whole ordeal. Thankfully, for you, Gary proved to be skilled enough to make up for your end. In fact, he seemed to be so skilled that many of the other people around couldn't take their eyes off of the two of you as you twisted, turned, and swayed to the music. Gary knew this and while he was usually happier when there weren't too many eyes on him these days he was absolutely living for the attention tonight. Where it was especially enjoyed was from the heated glares that he was getting from LaCroix from across the room, who, unlike many of the other spectators knew exactly who was dancing with you and that it was largely just to spite him.

The person Gary enjoyed getting attention from the most was you. It was to the point where there wasn't even another person in the entire hall except for the two of you. The way he gently gliding you across the room had practically put you in a trance. All you knew was that one minute you were totally lost in his presence that seemed to fill the whole room, but in a comforting sort of way, when the two of you had suddenly stopped away from the crowd. "See, quickest was to the door." Gary snickered as he nodded his head toward the door just about ten feet away. You hadn't even noticed that he had used the dance floor as a means to get across the large dance hall faster than usual. Just barely being about the shake yourself from the spell that he had placed you under just by being himself, you were finally able to shyly mumble out, "You know, I would mind another dance?"

Gary grinned madly under his mask, placed his hand on the small of your back to lead you out the door, and purred, "So would I kid. But, I think a certain prince will have both our heads if we stay here much longer. Let's go somewhere that doesn't have an audience." To you, that suggestion sounded like a perfect idea.

[elysianslove]

hi! how have you been since the hell that ensued after halloween is?

also could you do a batboys college au? like their major and how the reader would meet them and all that jazz? 👉👈

-🐥

hi anon!! i’m not sure what ur talking about @ the halloween stuff hvsdhjs but! here are the batboys hc’s! i’m not very familiar with duke thomas’s character enough to write about him tbh, so he’s not included here :( but if you want me to add him let me know!! i hope you enjoy!!

dick grayson

out of all the batboys i really didn’t know how to choose a major for him

but

i think he’d do law tbh, specifically criminal law 

his main motivation to become a police officer in bludhaven had been to be able to help people in any way he can 

i forgot if it’s canon or not but he does realize how corrupt it is and he quits but that’s another thing we won’t get into that lmao 

anyways yes let’s just stick with law 

meeting you ! 

he shares one or two courses with you

one that’s really early in the morning 

and one that’s later on in the afternoon 

dick is like a magnetic okay

anywhere he goes people are just attracted to him

like literally he will breathe 

but someone call the ambulance there’s a person that’s passed out bc of how beautiful he is

but this is an 8 am class 😃

so there’s no way ur awake enough to notice him

coincidentally he sits next to you one time

and this is the one time

you decide

yeah lemme just fkn sleep is uni even worth it 

dick definitely notices right away but he doesn’t say anything 

he thinks you look so cute passed out on your desk like this 🥺

when the professor signals the end of the class, he watches as people file out and then he just leans over and nudges you slightly 

you nearly punch him bc he scared you ❤️

he just laughs and goes “class is over” 

you just sigh like the guilt starts to hit you and your heart begins to sink

and he sees your disappointed face and just goes 

“i took a lot notes. i can share them w you?”

lifesaver in every single way dick grayson 😻😻😻

you had another class that you had to run to and you were rushing

he was like “dw i’ll just give them to you whenever i see you next” 

and you 🏃🏻‍♀️ outta there

imagine ur surprise when u enter class at 12 pm and he’s there in all his glory 

after the lecture is over, he walks up to you as you’re packing and asks if you want to go to the coffee shop nearby 

to take his notes of course

and you finally register just how handsome he is 

so obviously you say yes wtf

and the rest is history 😼

he asks you out, properly, pretty early on tbh 

so unfazed lmfao 

now you take naps on his shoulder instead of the desk 💞💞💞

soooo into pda 

kisses u when he first sees you

when you’re parting ways

when he feels like it

straight up cuddles w during lectures i’m not even joking 

it’s disgusting how cute you two are 

gets you coffee for all those 8 am classes u have w him hehe

study dates always turn into karaoke sessions somehow don’t even ask lmao

jason todd

english literature 

this is a collective agreement right? 

right

definitely english literature 

i dont even think he wants to go to uni but he’s going to waste time plus this is bruce’s money 😏🤑

your major doesn’t necessarily have to be english literature as well

but you share one class

and my god 

you two disagree on everything

like every little thing

at this point if he says something and you slightly agree internally you’ll still say some opposing shit 

that’s kinda what draws you to him 

at first you genuinely had nothing against him

but then this kind of rivalry developed for no specific reason 

but it was fun

and he was hot

so seeing him get flustered or angry made him even hotter somehow 

but then

but t h e n

you’re not sure if your professor like ships you or something

so you’re assigned a debate topic on one of the books you’d discussed in class/one of the books you’ve read outside, and within each group are the two sides for and against 

not only were you in the same team as jason, but you were on the same side as him

so you had to work with him

the audacity of the professor omg 

but jason needs this course 

and 

well you don’t but it’s too late to back out now 

you two meet in the campus library after deciding on a book with the other two of your team

and 

honestly??? 

you two work so well together 

like insanely well

during the debate you destroyed the other team 

spoiler alert 

doing so well with jason kinda made you like hot and bothered 

seeing him in his zone

sexy <3 

what i mean to say is

you both end up making out in some storage room lmfao 

or hate sex 😏

professor has a phd in matchmaking 🤔😻

i think you two don’t admit you like each other

bc you’re both stubborn as fuck

but eventually you’re literally on his lap on his couch and it just hits you

and you lean back and go

“wanna go out w me” 

and he just shrugs and goes “sure” and pulls you in for more kissing hehe

he’s not v good at the boyfriend thing tbh

you have to chase him around and be like “sir!!! did u forget about me huh!!!”

he doesn’t mean to i promise

he gets all blushy and flustered once he realizes 

only ever into pda if he’s insanely jealous 

will straight up make out w u regardless of where u are or who ur with lmfao 

he’s still getting used to the little intimacies and all 

debates in class are so much more fun now cause he finds it so hot when u get all riled up hehe

that eng lit professor is so happy for you two omg

tim drake

okay i also couldn’t really decide for him

but maybe he’d study something like physics (or maybe computer engineering/computer science) 

idk u have to have a death wish to wanna major in physics so tim’s major it is

i’m not sure how it works for every other uni but my uni requires 6 credits of sciences to graduate 

so let’s say for the sake of this hc u take like just the first level of physics to get 3 credits 

and 

you’re struggling 😃👍🏼

so you like approach your professor with a few questions before the quiz 

but tim is also there

and he kinda makes small talk while you two wait outside the office

and he asks why you’re here

you show him

and he’s like “oh i took this course w the same professor as well, i could help?” 

it’s like an angel had descended from the heavens for you personally 

you take his number and decide to meet up with him after a few hours 

he’s of so much more help than your professor would’ve been, even if ur prof is a really nice and smart person 

and he’s super like

patient with you? 

also he pays for all the coffee and snacks you’re getting after you already get them 

ur like bruh i didnt 

dont pay pls

and he’s like no im loaded let me 😼

swooning <3 

and guess what!! 

you ace the quiz out of some miracle

first thing you do is text him and he congratulates you 

and then

bc ur not blind and tim is so fucking cute

you’re like “can i take u out to thank u” 

tim’s brain stops working but ! 

he does say yes eventually 

he becomes your designated physics tutor + your amazing boyfriend

being with tim is so like

chill

it’s a very relaxed time 

lots of study dates! and cafe dates! all hours of the day whether the sun is up or not 

into pda but to a certain degree 

like yes of course have a kiss pretty baby 

but also it will only be a small peck

any time anyone passes by like common rooms you two will be there snuggling on the couch, one or both of you completely passed out 

damian wayne

business major 100% 

or a bsba econ major, which is basically the business side of economics 

he has to take over his father’s company one day duh 

also i genuinely think damian would excel in this field 

he’s a very keeps to himself kinda guy in uni

like you only ever see him in your common classes and then he just

disappears 

anyways there was this party that everyone was going to, and damian wasn’t planning to

but dick accidentally read some groupchat’s messages and was like are u going

damian went 🏃🏻‍♀️

but dick was like go and try to make friends !!!! 

and dames cant say no to his big bro 🥺 so he goes

stays in a corner on the settings app the entire time

like half an hr in he just leaves and is walking home/back to his dorm when you come like rushing up to him 

you’re zooming 

and then you just latch onto his hand and lean up to press a kiss to his cheek, whispering in his ear “this person’s been following me for like 15 mins just please go along w this” 

he kinda stiffens but when he does notice that there’s a person eyeing you he slips his arm around your waist and just carries on walking

he walks you to your home/dorm and is like

so awkward 

but it’s okay ! ur a people’s person enough for the two of you 

you thank him so much over and over 

and then you’re like 

“can i take you out on a real date?” 

and then he becomes ur real boyfriend hehe

is still super stiff but it’s only bc he’s so hyper aware of how attractive you are

and i’m super positive he doesn’t have that much experience with dating so 

you hold the reigns 

but he’s a great boyfriend all in all tbh 

super attentive, super protective, and so loving 

isn’t into pda especially on college campus but he does like subtle pda

things like linking your pinkies or giving you his hoodie to just parade around campus hehe

end note; i’m sorry if these feel rushed or anything like. i used to be an avid writer for the batboys, but i just haven’t been feeling it lately. i still love to write from them bc i know these boys so well eeeeppp. anyways feel free to request some more!!

[amandabe11man]

Random diary(?)-entry and a love-letter to Rammstein

I've just come to a realization this year, with Zeit coming out AND me actually getting to see rammstein live again (but this time at a tour of their own, not “just” at a festival)-- they’ve been with me since I was 11; a constant presence, despite how many more musicians and bands I've also come to like since then. there’s still never been any question: rammstein has always been my very favorite band ever since that day when I first put on my Reise, Reise-cd, not knowing what else to expect apart from “amerika”. my mind was blown and I ain’t ever looked back since then. basically, just like my life can be described as “before and after rutger hauer”, it can also be described as “before and after rammstein”. other interests spark up, but the OG ones are always there; a comfort and something to always fall back on. trusted companions that I don’t even know personally.

so, it’s probably not a coincidence that I've been in extra deep thought recently, since this is the year I'll be turning 30.... which is something my anxious ass definitely doesn’t look forward to. 

if you know me, you know how much the very idea of the future-- of time passing-- scares me. I want things to be as I remember them, I don’t want myself or the ones I love to have to age, I don’t want my surroundings to change-- you get the idea. I don’t have a problem with being an adult anymore, but the 30-mark? that’s the big one, in my mind. the “first big age crises” we’ve heard so much about. and I've had on-and-off age crises’ since I was goddamn 18. so yeah, you can probably tell my mind definitely doesn’t like the implications of now being even older than that. my brain can’t connect the dots, I think, because in so many ways, I still don’t feel like an adult, and I most definitely don’t feel like an OLDER adult... I won’t try to psychoanalyze myself further rn, but it’s important that you know this about me, because of what I'm about to say next:

with all of this year’s thinking... PONDERING, even, I've realized something:  1) being with my colleagues who are 40+ and older has given me some insight into what being an adult can be like. despite our age gaps, we have so much fun, and it’s made me realize that “wow. they’re even more adult than me but they’re still having fun. they still have their interests and are still the same individuals they’ve always been. maybe being older won’t be so scary?” and 2) having followed rammstein for so long, seeing all their antics and how they get to live out their creativity has given me that same epiphany as with my coworkers: becoming older doesn’t have to mean anything. just because you’re an adult doesn’t mean you stop having fun with your friends. you can still be childish, silly, live out your dreams and make them happen, and share it with others if you want to! rammstein are all 50+ but does that stop them? HELL no! they seem to be having more fun than ever, in fact. they made it through their earlier difficulties and have grown as a result. in that sense, getting older can be nice too; because your mind grows along with you.  I think (I HOPE) I'm truly starting to accept that past a certain point, age is literally just a number. just because that number gets higher doesn’t automatically mean YOU have to stop being who you are inside, y’know? 

when I saw rammstein last month, it truly hit me that that’s the kind of adult I wanna be too; still in touch with myself and my inner child, my passions etc... seeing them so happy to be on stage together makes me happy too. happy for them, and happy about what the future can be like if I stop being so anxious all the time. time (get it?) will tell, of course. idk how I'll feel when The b-day comes, but I hope my little epiphany here will help me get through it, if I stumble...

thanks for reading lol

[sevlgi]

believe

requested: no

group: blackpink

pairing: jisoo x fem!reader

genre: fluff

contents: guardian angel!jisoo, near death instances, unlucky reader. [22/33].

warnings: none

synopsis: You’ve never believed in guardian angels, but that just might change when you’re saved from certain death 3 times in one week.

a/n: idk if I’ve ever seen anyone do a similar au... tell me if you have! also i’m actually hella proud of this one lmao

word count: 1.8k

Do guardian angels exist?

Well, that’s a subjective question, and there really isn’t a yes or no answer... But if yours does, they’re doing the shittiest job of the century.

The amount of times you’ve been hurt in the past, both physically and emotionally, is stupidly high. You’ve always had an aptitude for getting injured, stories of broken bones and gashes making up basically half of your entire life. Your friends and family pride themselves on having a fully loaded arsenal of embarrassing tales, practically making it a rite of passage to visit the hospital with you. And don’t even mention the heartbreaks- those just seem to follow you wherever you go.

When you move to a different city for what must be the 10th time, you vow that it’s going to be different, no matter how obvious it is that it won’t. You vow that there aren’t going to be any incidents that land you in the hospital, nor any relationships that just end in chaos.

Suffice to say, all of that goes haywire on your first day in town.

Without a car to drive you to work or any friends to hitchhike off of, you take the subway, line #224 to Solace Building. There just so happens to be a new girl group song you’re obsessed with, blasting on the highest possible volume in your earbuds, when you’re shoved from the back right into the subway tracks. “Fu-”

Time slows down as you start to fall, the dusty railways coming too close to your face for comfort before a warm hand wraps around yours, the socket of your arm straining to carry your entire weight as you’re jerked back sharply.

You collide with a warm body, soft curves lessening the impact and delicate, impossibly strong hands steadying you on either side of your waist. By all logic, you should’ve knocked your savior over, should be sprawled on the ground right now with dirty palms and a heat-flushed face. “Are you okay?”

When you step back sharply, you’re met with the sight of the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen in your life. Her heart-shaped smile and delicate features are framed with cascading brown hair, and she has ethereally flawless porcelain skin. She’s the kind of beautiful that makes the plainest outfit look designer, that could make you believe sea glass to be pure diamond. “Uh. Y-yeah. I’m good.”

“I’m glad,” she chuckles, smiling even wider and tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. Maybe she doesn’t realize the effect she has on you, humming as she dusts something invisible off your bag. “You should be more careful, Y/N, wouldn’t want someone as pretty as you being killed by a train.”

If it was anyone else, the words would sound creepy, especially with the added factor of the girl knowing your name. “How-- how do you know who I am?”

She juts her lips at the card hanging off your bag, your name written in big, bold letters. “Nametag. Y/N Y/L/N, employee in Solace Building?”

To hide the heat in your cheeks, you look to the floor and stutter out, “Well. Since you know my name, uh, isn’t it fitting that I know yours?”

It’s not nearly as smooth as you’d like it to be-- usually, the natural flirt in you would’ve made an appearance-- but the petite brunette extends a hand, tipped with gentle pink nails. “Jisoo. Kim Jisoo, if that’s helpful at all.”

Your next words are interrupted by your train arriving; when Jisoo doesn’t follow you on, you turn to look at her with your eyebrow quirked. “Are you...?”

“Not my train,” she smiles, shaking her head, even though it’s the only one arriving for hours where she stands. “Good to meet you, Y/N. Stay out of trouble!”

It’s an odd way to end a first meeting, but you don’t think much of it as you grab the nearest seat and pull out your phone to search her up. K-I-M J-I-S-O-O, you type, eyes scanning the screen fervently as the train starts.

Plenty of people show up-- after all, Kim Jisoo is not a rare name-- but none of the dozens of profiles you click through are the beautiful girl who saved your life. It’s too late when you look back out the window towards the station, the only thing you see becoming brick wall.

The next time you almost die, you’re just walking to the coffee shop across from your apartment.

The activity should be safe, considering that not many people in the area own cars. At first, you think you are safe, crossing the silent street with no problem and receiving your usual order just fine; you’re on your way back to your lonely little apartment when you hear the screeching of car tires on the road.

“Watch out!” someone screams, but you’re frozen in the middle of the crosswalk. You forget how there wasn’t a single car in the street when you were crossing as you stare at the grill coming close. The car doesn’t stop or slow down, and you scrunch your eyes shut with your arms raised up, just waiting for the impact.

It never comes. When you hesitantly open your eyes again, you find a familiar figure standing in front of you, the force of her hand having knocked your coffee onto your blouse. The car bumper is pressing into her bare leg, which is miraculously clean of a scratch or bruise, but she doesn’t seem to notice as she turns to grin at you.

“Sorry, I ruined your coffee,” Jisoo frowns, her hand coming up to almost touch the steaming stain on your chest. You stare at her mutely, following obediently when she grabs your wrist and pulls you back to the coffee shop. “Can I buy you another one?” she offers, plucking a napkin off a street-side table.

“Kim Jisoo?” you say disbelievingly, not even feeling it as she dabs the coffee away. “You again?”

“Me again,” she confirms, pulling some more napkins out of her purse with a smile on her face. “I hope you’re not disappointed; after all, I just saved you from dying. Again.”

“No, that’s not...” Taking a deep breath, you smile too, wrapping your fingers around her hand to gently brush her off. “It’s okay. I’m glad to see you, actually-- I searched for your profile to thank you, but I couldn’t find anything.”

Jisoo shrugs, opening the door to the coffee shop for you. “Oh, I’m not really on social media. If you wanted my number, you could’ve just asked.”

You laugh lightly, tossing the crushed cup in your hand into the trash. Of course it’s odd that she isn’t on social media in the 21st century-- with her face, you’d expect Jisoo to be a major influencer. “Then I’ll ask for it. Later.”

“Of course. Order what you want, I owe you one after all that,” she offers, plucking a couple loose 20 dollar bills out of her purse.

Once again, you’re faced with another weird habit of hers, but you order anyway and thank her after she pays. Before you can say anything else, though, she gets a text and frowns at her phone. “Oh, sorry, I have to go. Catch you next time?”

“Sure,” you answer, forgetting to tell her that she still forgot to give you her number. You stand dumbly on the sidewalk and watch her go, taking a deep breath and looking both ways before you set off towards your apartment for the second time that day.

Maybe next time?

The third, and hopefully last time, is the absolute weirdest of all. 

You seem to have a thing for being knocked into ditches-- this time, a group of teenagers barrels into you while you’re walking by the side of the only river in your entire city. You open your mouth to tell them off, but before you can, an especially hard shove from an stocky little boy pushes you right into the water.

Luckily, the fall isn’t high, so you don’t hit the water with much force, but the boats cruising along and the recently terrible weather stir the current strong enough to pull you right under. In the icy water, you feel your fingers let go of the phone in your hand, your lungs slowly being crushed by the pressure of your surroundings.

It’s hard to tell how much time passes while you’re in the water. From what your doctors have told you, trauma is difficult to remember clearly for a while, but you vaguely feel hands linking in front of your chest and forearms bracing under your armpits to drag you out of the water.

The heat of the summer sun warms the stone under your back and you can hear whispers sounding around you as you flop onto the floor. Hands push hard on your breastbone, once, twice-

After maybe 30 pushes, fingers pinch your nose, and soft lips meet yours. It feels more like a kiss than CPR, no air really being blown into your mouth, but nonetheless, you feel water leaving your lungs, and you open your eyes in shock, coughing out loud.

To your (somewhat) shock, it’s the same girl hovering over you. Jisoo’s skirt is wet at her knees where she kneels beside you, her hands still hovering over your chest. She must’ve been the one giving CPR, then. Sitting up, you hack violently until most of the water’s out of your lungs, the other girl waving away all of the spectators. “How’re you feeling?” she asks, once you’re alone on the sidewalk.

Your hands move faster than your brain, pulling her forward by the nape of her neck until you kiss again, something about her tasting familiar in a way you can’t quite place. “Who are you?” you breathe once you’ve pulled away, searching her warm eyes for an answer.

She smiles again, handing you your miraculously dry phone instead of answering. It should be waterlogged and dead, but nothing seems to make sense when concered with Kim Jisoo. “How about you take me for dinner or something before asking the serious questions? Soup should be good to warm you up.”

Hand clasping in hers, you’re pulled to your feet with strength that doesn’t match her petite stature. You barely remember that you look like an almost-drowned rat, your lips purple with cold and your hair stringy with icy water. “Sure. Soup. But you need to answer me first.”

She exhales, hitching her bag higher up on her arm. “I’d say I’m your guardian angel, but you wouldn’t believe that, would you?”

“I wouldn’t,” you answer, eyes narrowing as you follow her down the street. “But maybe you can convince me. Over soup.”

[vanillann]

the 1994 battle of the performers (luke patterson x f.reader)

i. love. this. series. (also i hope you like this chapter idk how i feel about it)

word count: 2.3k

the 1994 battle of the performers masterlist

Chapter 2: Spaghetti Night

“Crap!”

My heel hit the leg of the coffee table, my body going numb at the idea of ruining my knee. As I watched myself almost hit the hard ground of the studio, I felt two hands grab my shoulder.

I was bought slowly to the ground by two of the dancers, Florence and Regan, as they made sure I was okay. A few other girls we had recruited of the dance number rushed to my side, each asking was okay. Devon, the male dancer for the team asked a few other girls to step back as he checked my knee.

“Does it hurt?”

“I’m fine, I didn’t even hit the ground,” it wasn’t a lie, that fall didn’t affect my knee badly and after a few minute break, I’d be back to choreographing the team.

“Milo’s was looking-“

A few girls looked over their shoulders when we heard the band walk in through the open doors of the studio.

“What happened?”

Luke almost dropped his glass as he hurried to one side, Reggie to my other quickly.

“I’ll get the first aid kit,” Bobby’s voice echoed over the room but before I could stop him Alex was rushing him out the room.

“My heel hit the coffee table, I’m fine,” I did my best to calm each member of the band, Reggie easily calmed down once I had a quick smile. Alex didn’t say anything as he hovered over me, keeping an eye on Devon as he touched my knee.

“We can get rid of the coffee table”, Luke spoke, watching Devon’s finger ghost over my knee before he spoke up.

“Maybe you shouldn’t do that since you aren’t a doctor.”

“I read about different techniques to massage hurt muscles when I found out about (Y/N) injury,” he spoke back, smiling to me before I pushed his hand away.

“Thank you, Devon, but I’m fine.”

“I got the first aid kit,” Bobby yelled back, holding above his head and pushing through the group.

“I’m fine,” I was exhausted at repeating the words at this point, I just felt and I’d be fine.

“Your heels are bleeding.”

I looked up at Alex, following his line of sight to my heel that hit the coffee table. It wasn’t a lot of blood, I didn’t even notice it, but it was enough to have everyone in the room panic.

“I’ll do it,” Luke ripped the bandaid from Bobby’s hand but I grabbed it from his own.

“I’m not a child, I can take care of myself,” I opened it up and handed the trash to Reggie who held his hand out for it.

“I think practice is over for today,” Alex turned to the members, each one agreeing that I needed a break.

“No! We’ve only been going for like an hour!”

“More like three,” Luke squeezed my shoulder and pointed to the clock on the wall, surely it wasn’t almost five?

“We will meet Monday afternoon,” Regan held her hand out to me, which I happily took. Luke was at my side, his hands ghosting around me but never touching me.

“But-“

“Shhh!” Alex held his finger over my mouth, quickly pulling it away once he realized.

“Sorry I forgot we aren’t that close-“

“It’s fine, we are close enough for you to be honest with me,” I smiled, sincere with him. Alex was nervous about my presence, I could tell how he avoided certain jokes and such. I just wanted him to understand that at this point, they were the closest friends I got.

“Hey, call me later and we can go over different ideas,” Devon pulled me from my thought, smiling as he wrapped one arm around me and brought me to his side.

“Uhm, yeah sure,” I spoke gently, giving his side a squeeze and nodding once he let go.

“Bye guys,” I waved everyone off, each saying it back and leaving down the long driveway of Bobby’s house.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

I looked over my shoulder and Reggie and smiled.

“I’m fine, you all need to stop making a scene,” I went to move to the couch but my leg cramped up, my face morphing into one of discomfort.

“Making a scene, huh?”

I said nothing about Luke’s comment and grabbed his arm instead, each boy in a panic and not knowing if they could touch me or not.

“It’s fine, I don’t bite.”

As soon as I spoke, I felt hands on my let’s and arm, each trying to help the situation but making it incredibly awkward.

“How about I sit on the couch?”

Each agreed, weird shuffling to the couch that was against the wall. Once I made it and I turned around and flopped backward, letting go of Luke’s arm in the process.

I closed my eyes, letting my palm dig at it for a minute before I noticed the burned feeling on my face. As I opened my eyes, each boy watched me with worry.

“I am fine, I’m going to malfunction if I have to say it again!”

I knew it was out of worry, if I wasn’t running off adrenaline I would have been more worried. After the revelation two weeks ago I had been pushing myself, thinking I was the same dancer I was before.

But I wasn't. I felt more and I had to think about moves more often, I wasn’t the same dancer and I thought the more I kept the dancer the more would come back to me.

But that didn’t look to be the case.

“I need to get home,” I muttered, smiling slightly when the cramp went away.

“Are you gonna be okay?”

I nodded, sitting up straighter with no help and pushing off the couch as if nothing happened.

“I’m not in a nursing home for a reason,” I winked at Alex, gaining soft chuckles from the other members.

It was nice, feeling like we were all friends. I couldn’t tell if we were or not. I only ever came over for practice and we didn’t speak about much besides the battle or sometimes about Milo’s, but otherwise, that was the end. But sometimes we’d be sitting around waiting for the other dancers, and it felt light and airy, easy. We could laugh and make little jokes with each other, it just would’ve been nice to be able to call them friends.

They were good guys, I knew that.

“Boys!”

I looked around the boys to see a taller woman, smiling widely at the band. She was gorgeous with tan skin and messy hair. She had wild curls and older band tees that had some holes around the collar.

“Dinner,” the woman, who I was pretty sure was Bobby's mother, held her arm out as if to tell the boys they could exit.

Each jumped with joy, smiling as they all made their way from the studio to the driveway.

“You must be (Y/N), the boys told me about you,” she smiled as I slowly made my way out, not as excited as the boys who were already at the door waiting.

“Nice to meet you,” I smiled, proud to have finally met the woman who’s been letting me dance in her studio.

“Even nicer to meet you,” she took a right, walking to the door of the gorgeous house. I took a left, prepared to hit the sidewalk and make it back to my empty house.

“Where are you going?”

I turned around, watching as Bobby and his mother waved me over, holding the door open for me while Alex, Reggie, and Luke waited inside.

“Oh I can’t Ms-“

“Call me Heather,” she called back, jogging slightly as she left Bobby to hold the door. She jogged till she stood in front of me, guiding my shoulders back to the house.

“Dinner is on us,” she smiled, watching me as I grabbed the railing to the small steps and walked up. Bobby smiled as he gave a joking bow, a smile gracing my lips and Reggie was jumping at the scene.

“It’s a tradition that to be part of the band you have to eat at the Wilson household,” Reggie smiled larger as I actually walked in the house.

“I’m not part of the band,” I corrected, pointed a finger over my shoulder as I admired the high ceilings and the beautiful wooden architect.

“Eh, close enough,” Luke pulled the back of my shirt, silently telling me to follow him. It wouldn’t be hard to find the kitchen by the way the smell cascaded each hall, making the house feel homer than ever.

As I stepped foot into the dining area, I saw Alex finding a plate in a cabinet and setting it at the table.

“Mr. Wilson out of town,” Heather muttered, filling in the small blanket she assumed I had.

“You know what that means!”

Each boy seemed to jump over this news, which was odd. Who wanted their parents out of town?

“Spaghetti night!”

The boys seemed even more excited, taking their seats with giant smiles on their faces. I said nothing, still taking in the family photos of the happy family and the gorgeous china.

“I think we’ve overwhelmed her,” Alex whispered, not quite enough but still light.

“I just didn’t expect this,” I didn’t know how to explain it but it was weird eating a meal at a table with people, I hadn’t done it in so long.

“Well expect it now,” Luke but back, patting the seat between Alex and him, Reggie and Bobby on the other side with a spot for Bobby’s mom.

“Ready!”

I had barely made it to my seat when Luke was pulling me down, smiling widely as Bobby’s mother walked out with a giant bowl of noodles in one hand and sauce in the other.

“Bobby dear, grab the breadsticks,” she called as she placed the bowls in the center of the table. Bobby wasted no time as he hurried to the kitchen for the breadsticks.

“You’ll love this,” Luke smiled, reaching for the silverware in the noodle bowl. I was shocked when he grabbed my plate, placing food on it, instead of his own.

“Heather taught me how to be a gentleman,” Luke spoke as he gave my plate back, sending a wink my way in the process.

I hide my smile with my hand, turning to look the other way to come face to face with Alex.

“You need to try it first, band rule,” he pointed around the table as all eyes waited for me to dive into the food. I decided not to wait, as Luke looked like he was going to cry if he didn’t eat soon, rolling some around on my fork before I brought it to my lips.

The noodles were perfectly done and the sauce absorbed itself perfectly. I could taste a hit of basil and maybe some pepper as the food melted on my tongue. I smiled as I chewed, giving a big thumbs up once I finally swallowed.

“Yes!”

Each boy didn’t waste time, reaching for breadsticks and carrots, laughing about lord knew what as they did so.

“So (Y/N),” Luke turned to me halfway through the night, spaghetti sauce smeared across his chin.

“-How does it feel to officially join Sunset Curve,” he smiled goofily, doing his best not to show he was speaking with food in his mouth.

“I’m not a part of Sunset Curve, remember?”

“Well you’re the official choreographer of Sunset Curve,” he spoke back, picking up a breadstick and smashing it in his mouth.

I only laughed, not worried about it too much. I was on the band until the battle then we’d move on. It’d be nice to be friends with the guys but that didn’t mean we’d still talk.

It would be fun while it lasted.

“I have a mason jar in my mailbox, Milo says you need an official one,” Heather spoke, smiling widely as I did my best to keep my drink down.

“That’s not necessary,” I tried to argue but Alex placed a hand on my shoulder.

“You can’t get out of this one,” he gave me a straight face but as soon as I started laughing he followed behind me.

“I’m sorry,” I laughed along, trying to look back at Alex but every time we did we started laughing again.

“Is there an inside joke I’m not getting?”

Reggie’s words caused Alex and me to laugh harder, trying my best to calm my nerves for the first time that day.

“They are going to rise against us now,” Bobby spoke up, standing from the table dramatically and moving to get something from the kitchen. Alex bumped his shoulder with mine, making my nerves from earlier disappear completely.

The dinner went on with laughs and jokes, which made me feel truly like a member of the band.

“I should really head home,” I spoke as Bobby took my plate to be washed off, placing the napkin that Luke put on my lap as a joke back on the table.

“Let me walk you,” Luke stood up beside me, handing his plate to Reggie who followed Bobby into the kitchen.

“I’m fine.”

“What if you fall?”

I rolled my eyes, waving to Heather who was in the kitchen, thanking her for the nice home-cooked meal.

“I’m not dancing, I can walk perfectly fine,” I said my goodbye’s, Alex giving a quick side hug with his before I walked to the door with Luke trailing after me.

“But-“

“I’m fine,” I spoke for the millionth time that day, smiling over my shoulder and I left the warm house to the cold outdoors.

“Fine, if you fall scream,” Luke crossed his arms, watching me walk down the stairs to the long driveway.

“Will do!”

I have a thumbs up over my shoulder, not daring to look back as I made my way down the driveway to the sideway.

“I mean really yell,” his voice echoed back, making a laugh boil over to the night sky above me.

“I’ll scream bloody murder just for you Patterson!”



the 1994 battle of the performers taglist:

@gia-kerks @notwonder-woman @poisoned-girl @phantompogues @dovesgrangers





[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #142: Ishtar

Today on Fate and Phantasms, we’re making Best Goddess and, according to @hasishtardoneanythingwrong, a servant who has done absolutely nothing very little wrong, Ishtar! 

In this build, Ishtar is a Divine Soul Sorcerer to balance her blasting abilities with her divine nature and a Zeal Cleric to push her explosive capabilities and godhood to the max.

Check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

Next up: The second part of the oldest bromance in human history.

Race and Background

Unfortunately WotC hasn’t figured out how to balance literal god PCs yet, but since Ishtar is a demiservant we can still technically call her a Protector Aasimar, giving her +1 Wisdom, +2 Charisma, Darkvision, Celestial Resistance to radiant and necrotic damage, Healing Hands to heal some hands, and the Light cantrip.

Since she protects Uruk in her own special way, we’ll call her a Goddess Alliance Anarch. This gives you Animal Handling and Religion proficiencies, as well as some bonus spells as you level up!

Ability Scores

As the goddess of love and also blowing up mountains, your Charisma needs to be as high as possible. Follow that up with Dexterity, you can literally fly, that’s pretty fast. After that will be Constitution, you can take a lot of abuse, especially if it’s coming from the writers. Your Wisdom has to be next so we can multiclass, keep that in mind if you’re rolling. Your Strength isn’t amazing, but it’s not like you’re using it anyway. Finally, dump Intelligence. Not gonna dwell on that one, let’s just move on.

Class Levels

1. Sorcerer 1: Honestly I think “Divine Soul” is kinda selling yourself short, but we’ll work in the framework we’re given. You can cast Spells now, including your Divine Magic from the cleric spell list, using your Charisma. You’re also Favored by the Gods, giving you the option of adding 2d4 to a failed save or attack roll once per short rest.

For cantrips you get Thunderclap and True Strike for offensive options (I mean you do aim. Even if your target’s a mountain, aiming is important.) You also get Minor Illusion and Friends to manipulate people into doing what you want.  Finally, your stand against the Three Goddess Alliance grants you the cantrips Fire Bolt and Produce Flame to make the battlefield a little bit spicier.

For first level spells, you get Bless from being a divine soul, as well as Compelled Duel, Speak with Animals, and Thunderwave from being an Anarch. For your actually chosen spells, Mage Armor makes your outfit feasible, and Feather Fall will be very helpful once you start flying.

2. Sorcerer 2: Second level sorcerers become a Font of Magic, giving you sorcerer points equal to your sorcerer level. Right now you can turn points into spell slots or vice versa, but it’ll get more interesting later. 

You can also cast Disguise Self, in case you have to, I don’t know, organize a servant-based wacky races kind of event? Idk, whatever.

3. Sorcerer 3: Third level sorcerers get Metamagic, letting you alter your spells to suit your mood by using sorcery points. A Transmuted spell lets you swap out its acid, cold, fire, lightning, poison, or thunder damage for another option on that list. Meanwhile, you can use a Distant spell to double a spell’s range, making your archery much more effective.

You also become a Radiant Soul, spending an action to transform yourself and gaining a flying speed for up to a minute. You can also deal extra radiant damage to a creature you hit with an attack or spell once per turn. You can do this once per long rest. It’s not a long trip, but it’s free.

On top of that, you get second level spells this turn. Distort Value lets you halve or double an object’s apparent value for the duration, perfect for haggling with a certain someone. You also get Beast Sense and Shatter from your Anarch spell list. The former isn’t that in-character, but the latter is a good start to taking down that mountain.

4. Sorcerer 4: Use your first Ability Score Improvement to round up your Constitution and Charisma, giving you more health, better concentration, and stronger spells. What a glow up!

You can also cast the cantrip Resistance to add 1d4 to a creature’s next save, or use Find Traps to make sneaking into Gilgamesh’s many treasure vaults slightly easier. If it works.

5. Sorcerer 5: You’re a god, so you probably shouldn’t be messing up that often. To help with that, Magical Guidance lets you spend a sorcery point to re-roll a failed skill check. Maybe it’ll help.

You can also cast Fly this level, giving you more frequent flying miles at the cost of your concentration. You can also Conjure Animals if you want to show up that gazelle-loving sister of yours. More on-target, however, is your other Anarch spell, Conjure Barrage. Gosh, it’s almost like you’re an archer or something.

6. Cleric 1: This whole flying around exploding things is great, but I think we can put more pizazz on it. Or, as they say down in Amonkhet, let’s add some Zeal. That’s right, we’re stealing from two MTG planes this build! As a Priest of Zeal, you can attack as a bonus action if you attack as an action a number of times per long rest equal to your wisdom modifier. That sounds kind of useless, but as a Zeal Cleric you also get proficiency with martial weapons, meaning that yes, you can use a bow and arrow. The archer class really is made up of archers!

You can also cast and prepare Spells using your Wisdom, but we got the really good ones in your sorcerer list, so don’t worry too much here. You do get some more cantrips, though! Thaumaturgy lets you throw your godly weight around, Light lets you cast light again using a worse casting modifier, and Guidance gives a creature some helpful advice from their favorite goddess, adding 1d4 to their next check.

You also get some domain spells, but they’re both smites and you’re an archer, so...

7. Cleric 2: The real reason we’re dipping is for your Channel Divinity option, which you can use once per short rest. You could  use it for Turn Undead, forcing a wisdom save against all undead near you (with a dc of 8 + proficiency + wisdom modifier), but the much more fun option is Consuming Fervor. This turns one fire or thunder damage roll into its maximum instead of rolling. That will be very scary later.

8. Sorcerer 6: Sixth level divine souls get Empowered Healing. You might not have any healing spells, but just being around people makes them feel a bit better. This lets you spend a sorcery point to re-roll any dice being used in a healing roll near you once per turn.

Speaking of healing, we’re still not doing that! You can now Bestow Curses onto people. Serves them right, calling you a “useless goddess”. This is one of those creative spells, so have fun with it!

9. Sorcerer 7: Seventh level sorcerers get fourth level spells! Anarchs get Dominate Beast and Stoneskin, and while neither are technically in character the latter could be very useful given your less than stellar AC. Also, literally turning yourself into gemstones is a real power move.

Your spell of choice this level is Ice Storm, letting you pummel a 20′ radius area with plenty of hail (or fiery debris, or just pure force), enough to turn the area into difficult terrain for a round.

10. Sorcerer 8: Use this ASI to grab the Spell Sniper feat, letting your spells ignore most cover, and spells you cast that require an attack roll have two times their normal range. You also learn Eldritch Blast to further flex on those dumb warlocks. They have to sell their soul and waste an invocation to get 300′ range blasts, and here you are with 480′ range and your soul’s intact! Hah!

You can also exude an Aura of Purity now, preventing disease, weakening poison damage, and granting advantage on a ton of status effect saves. 

11. Sorcerer 9: Ninth level sorcerers get fifth level spells, including your final Anarch spell, Destructive Wave. It’s only got a range of thirty feet, but it never hurts to prepare for an ambush. For longer range attacks, Flame Strike will do nicely. We’re still not quite at “blasting a mountain to smithereens” level power, but we’re getting there.

12. Sorcerer 10: Tenth level sorcerers can get the most out of their spells by making them Empowered, letting them re-roll a number of dice on their damage roll, up to their charisma modifier.

You can also cast Dancing Lights for a bit of a dramatic flair, or Creation to make gemstones out of thin air. Heck, you could even make a proper Boat of Heaven with this!

13. Sorcerer 11: Another two levels have passed, that means you get another spell level. Sunbeam gives you a reusable sunlight blast, dealing radiant damage and blinding creatures that fail their constitution save. You can use this attack again as your action each turn for up to a minute. Sadly this isn’t affected by either of your range enhancements, but you’ve still got plenty of airspace to work with.

14. Sorcerer 12: If we’re going to blast a mountain apart we’ve got to get serious. Use this ASI to get the Elemental Adept feat, focusing on Thunder damage. Once you take this feat, all dice on thunder damage rolls coming from spells always count as at least a 2, and they ignore thunder resistances.

15. Sorcerer 13: The first step to launching the literal planet Venus at somebody is actually getting the damn thing, and that means we need to leave the atmosphere at a moment’s notice. The closest we can come to that here is Plane Shift. You can also use this on enemy creatures as a melee attack

16. Sorcerer 14: Fourteenth level Divine Souls get an Angelic Form you can transform into as a bonus action. This gives you a flying speed of 30′ that is basically permanent until you’re incapacitated or you just get rid of them on your own. Have fun with those orbital bombardments!

17. Sorcerer 15: Sunburst sounds like a good pick for your eighth level spell. This one actually does get a range boost, which is good because it deals damage in a 60′ radius. Creatures within that radius get a constitution save, and failing that means a lot of radiant damage and being blind until it makes the save on the end of its turn. Sadly, it’s stuck on radiant damage, but it’s still an effective blasting spell.

18. Sorcerer 16: Use your last ASI to max out your Charisma so that whole “making the save” thing from last level never happens.

19. Sorcerer 17: To make those saves even less likely, our final metamagic option is Heightened Spell, causing one creature’s first save of the spell in question to be made at disadvantage. Basically you’re saying “like you had a choice in the matter”.

Speaking of spells though, we can finally pull Venus through for a charged shot, thanks to the ninth level spell Meteor Swarm. With a max range of 1-2 miles this truly is nuking the planet from orbit. It’s the only way to be sure.

Here’s a step by step guide for removing a mountain. 1. Hang out in the Troposphere. 2. Cast Meteor Swarm, swapping out Fire for Thunder damage. 3. Channel Divinity, maxing out the thunder damage for extra fun. 4. Deal 120 Thunder damage that ignores resistances, on top of 20d6 bludgeoning damage. 5. Enjoy your new crater.

20. Sorcerer 18: Your capstone level of sorcerer gives you an Unearthly Recovery. When you’re bloodied, you can spend a bonus action to heal yourself for half your HP, once per long rest. You had enough trouble in the underworld as it is, no point in going back again.

Pros:

As I just mentioned in level 19, you can deal a lot of damage. Like, Sanson level damage, without all the nonsense attached to it. You’ve got big booms, and multiple ways to make those booms hurt even more than they should.

Flying on a spellcaster is just. Really, really good. Especially on one built for range. There’s almost literally nothing they can do to you up here. Like, arrows, maybe, but you can just retaliate with the literal wrath of god. Plus, you’re probably out of counterspell range, so there’s nothing the DM can do to you!

A lot of your spells are focused on damage, but you do still have plenty of variety in your spell list, just in case. And on the off chance you’re fighting someone in a silence bubble, you can just change your thunder spells to acid or something.

Cons:

For most of this build we’re relying on the Flight spell to get off the ground, which eats up your Concentration and has a chance of failure when you take damage. It’s not ideal.

Those Cleric Levels are very useful, but they still push back your spell progression by 2 levels, which means you’ll have even less time with your An Gal Ta Ki Gal Se than you would normally.

You can’t fly everywhere. Caves exist. Buildings exist. I mean you totally can blast holes to get where you need to, just don’t expect to be that popular with whoever owns the building. Also, fighting in cramped areas plays to your biggest weakness: squishiness. Your AC is only 15, and you’ve got barely over 120 HP, which as we just discussed, someone built like you can take out very easily.

[markleesthighs]

Hotel! AU With Lucas~?? 👉👈

-idk what you meant by hotel, but umm manager lucas makes me think, so like crazy rich!y/n x hotel manager! lucas

[7:27 PM] Your finally got off your long plane ride, landing in Seoul. Your sister was getting married to her longtime boyfriend, which was a wedding the talk of all of Seoul. Your sister was an actress and her boyfriend was a famous director, both winning oscars overseas. You, on the other hand was a world class fashion icon, showing up at multiple fashion weeks and constantly having high class brands beg for your to wear their pieces. It would be no shock that once you stepped off your family’s private jet, there was paparazzi active, asking who you were wearing and what you were planning on wearing to the wedding. Your sisters wedding was in one of the most exclusive and expensive hotels in all of Seoul, and they rented out the entire hotel for its guests. Your limo pulled up to the gates where you stated your name and verified your identification to let the guards open the gates. As you pulled up a handsome man who opened the limo door for you and held your hand. You felt some sort of warmth to his touch and his eyes made your heart melt. You hadn’t felt this way about someone since your ex boyfriend 2 years ago. What were you thinking? Someone like you? Dating someone like him? It would be the end of the world for the both of you. You looked down at his name tag as it read “Lucas” An interesting name you thought.

“Hello I am Lucas, the manager of the hotel, let us help you with your luggage and any accommodations you will need.” He said as he graciously held your purse for you.

“Thank you.”

You walked into the hotel to be greeted with your sister squealing bringing you into a hug. You hugged her fiancé as you caught up with her while Lucas checked you in.

“Miss y/n, you are checked in for the presidential suite at the top floor, let me also show you to your room and give you the tour.”

“T-thank you”

You sister noticed your stutter, something that generally can back when you were flustered or around someone you liked. She gave you a smirk and winked as you rolled your eyes and glared at her, hoping Lucas didn’t see.

You walked into an elevator with only you and Lucas as it was dead silent. You looked at him looking at his fashion choices, which you generally judged people on. He had Cartier studs, a perfectly fitted Hermès suit, a shiny new Rolex, and shiny Gucci loafers. He had good taste you thought to yourself. As the elevator door opened you tripped on elevator crack with your heel as he caught you hold you firmly and supporting you.

“Are you alright? You must be more careful when stepping off with such beautiful Louboutin shoes, I wouldn’t want to scuff those.”

You were starstruck, he smelled like Versace cologne and it mixed beautifully with your Chanel No. 5 perfume as you saw he also took a liking to your perfume. He helped you stand back up with his arm now supporting you as you both strolled to your room. You noticed that Lucas was still taller than you with your heels on which was rare since most guys wouldn’t dare approach you with your reflective sunglasses and intimidating behavior. Lucas unlocked and opened the door to one of the most luxurious hotel rooms you’ve seen. You’ve traveled and stayed at expensive hotels overseas but nothing compared to this suite. It smelled like fresh cotton and flowers, and everything was perfectly polished and cleaned. You were marveled, you would usually have at least a complaint by now but you were left speachless. Your clothes were already placed in the closet, color coded perfectly. All of your skincare and makeup of beautifully organized on the sink and vanity.

“Is everything up to your standards, miss y/n?.”

“Y-yes...h-how did.”

“We consulted your assistants, butlers, and maids overseas about your standards and wanted to make sure they were followed accordingly.”

You looked over at the vase of violets.

“How did you know violets were my favorite?”

“I didn’t. I always think violets have a calming scent and look, that can make any place feel like home.” He said with a smile.

“If theres anything else we can do for you, you can give us a call on the phones or use the PA systems located around your room. Enjoy your stay. “

As he walked out you took a look around your room, hoping to find a complaint (to see Lucas again) but you had none. You even noticed your bed was folded perfectly so a flap would be open on the side of the bed you slept on. As you sat down you got a call from your sister who was begging you to come down to the hotel’s restaurant to go have dinner with her and her fiancé, to catch up and go over last minute wedding decorations (since you had one of the most detailed eyes in the world). You agreed as you changed into a Dior sundress, Hermès sandals, and a Prada clutch. You opened the elevator to the entrance of the restaurant where your sister was exitedly waving you down at their table.

“It’s so lovely to see you again, I love that dress!”

“Thanks, it’s from Dior’s 2021 spring line.”

“2021?? Darling that’s a year away how did you get your hands on this piece?”

“I didn’t most brands send me their upcoming lines to see if it meet my approval and will curve with current fashion trends.”

“You never fail to amaze me, y/n.”

As you were about to speak a waiter came by and dropped off some warm green tea for you. It was your signature drink, so it wasn’t a long shot, until you took a sip. It was made to your liking. It was seeped from the Da-Hong Pao brand with a teaspoon of Elvish honey. They even got the temperature exactly right, at 175 degrees. You suspected Lucas. He made everything perfect for you, it was nice, but you assumed he did that for all of his guests. You all continued to talk over dinner, creating conversations from cute dogs on Instagram to which way bridesmaids should present themselves at the wedding. After dinner you all transitioned to the grand ballroom, the main stage for the wedding. Your sister was nervously twiddled her fingers as you gazed at the decor. Lucas came in short after following you around taking notes, hanging on your every word.

“These flowers aren’t fresh replace all of them by tomorrow, make sure all of the silverware is perfectly straight next to the plate, turn the centerpieces by 35 degrees so the lights hit them better, the goody bag bags look tacky, replace them with Louis Vultton bags and put in Louis Vultton, Gucci, and Channel accessories, with each bag with different ones so they never match.”

“B-but, y/n, we can’t possibly purchase that in time!”

“Don’t worry sis, Lucas please charge any additional items that I’ve adjusted onto my card.”

“y/n please! You’re our guest!”

“Stop it. What else am I going to blow with all money? It’s worth it for your wedding.”

You handed Lucas your card as he wrote down your information. You continued on your purge to the point where your sister and fiancé got tired and went up to their room exhausted and they definitely needed some rest. So now it was just you and Lucas in the ballroom, alone.

“Miss, y/n, I know you want everything to be perfect for your sisters wedding, but I think you’re beating a dead horse at this point. “

“I am not!”

“Do you really think moving the chair in by one centimeter it really necessary?”

You sighed as you looked at your sandals.

“No, it’s not.”

“Why are you so punctual about this, miss y/n, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“It’s cause, this, was supposed to be my wedding. I was engaged two years ago, to a man who only wanted me for my money. I had all the wedding planning set until I was informed he was trying to sell my stocks and take everything from my bank account and runaway with some other famous B lister model. So once I heard my sister was getting married, I let her have my wedding plans. So now, I’m being overly punctual, since I know I would be like this on my wedding day.”

“Well, sometimes imperfect things allow the world to let it be perfect in ways you’ve never known. If this were my wedding, I wouldn’t care how lavish or perfect it was, as long as I was marrying someone I loved.”

Lucas’ words resonated into your mind, maybe you needed to let things be imperfect, even for your sister.

“So be it then, I’m done ‘perfecting’ for the night. Afterall, it’s not my wedding.”

As you walked out Lucas called out your name, and asking for your number. You hesitated asking him why and he said to discuss any issues that occur on the day of the wedding so he can contact you and discuss any certain changes. Right, he wasn’t trying to hit on you, why would he want to, he probably has a girlfriend or something right? You gave him your number and you walked into the elevator back to your room. You fantasized what it would be like to date him, going out on lavish dates, not worrying about who was going to pay for the check, and you felt that you would have a fun time with him. You took your shower and came out of the bathroom to see that you’re missing your roller from your skincare routine. You called Lucas up in your robe and wet hair to ask him for your cold Jade roller you used to smoothen and contour your face. He brought it up and gave it to you. But as he left, you grabbed his arm and asked him to roll your face for you, since your maids would do it for you. He chuckled as he submit to your request sitting down on your bed with you as you watched him gently roll your face. His eyes looked so delicate carefully not trying to put too much pressure on your face. You felt your heart beating faster every time you were around him, he was unpredictable to you and he was never intimidated by you either. You had never been able to open up to someone as easily as him.

When he was finished you noticed it started to thunderstorm, which worried you, since you had a secret fear of thunder and lightning. Lucas looked at you and gently caressed your face, making sure everything rolled correctly. But as he was about to get up a loud clash of the lightning struck and you squeaked as you fell into his arms holding on to him tight.

“P-please, d-don’t leave yet...”

Lucas looked at you in sympathy but got up leaving you in the dust. You were disappointed, knowing things like this would happen, even if you did like him. Who would even want to date- But Lucas returned dressed in his comfortable clothes which he received from the cleaning maids on your floor. He quickly came back to your shivering state hearing another clash of thunder. Lucas pulled you into a cuddling embrace in your bed. He also came back with some Airpods and played your favorite music to drown out the noise of the storm. You soon fell asleep on his chest, feeling warm and safe in his arms.

-pt. 2?? wedding day?

[bigskydreaming]

In a mood and I’m trying not to be, but oof. Not easy at the moment. Real life stresses are kicking my butt and I’m decidedly limited in resources for addressing that at the moment, so might as well get this off my chest, lol. Already lost the usual fifty followers or so I lose every single time I post about stuff the way I did the other day, so what’s some more, y’know?

So earlier today I tried to get my mind off things with some fic, and happened across one I hadn’t read before that promised Jason and Dick talking things out and bonding. Halfway through I sighed and went oh, this is familiar, and skipped to the bottom to check the end notes and comments to see if there was any mention of this next part, but nope. The reason for the sigh was it took me about halfway into the fic to realize that it was blatantly inspired by my post about what if Jason was missing some memories from his death/resurrection and the Pit, like specifically the ski trip they took, stuff like that. Now I’m not so egotistical as to think nobody but me has certain ideas, but its fairly easy for me to recognize when someone is basing something off a post of mine because of specific turns of phrases that I use and like, they hit ten or so bullet points from my post without missing a one. Like, there’s parallel evolution and similar ideas, and then there’s going down a check list, y’know?

And don’t get me wrong....I don’t mind people basing stuff of my posts, being inspired by them, etc. I WANT that. I’m GLAD to have that happen.

The part I mind is the way this all ties back into my interaction with fandom as a whole....and this fandom’s interaction with me. Which I don’t tend to hear NEARLY as much about as I tend to have people giving me shit about my impact on fandom....but ONLY the negative impact.

In the four years or so that I’ve been active in this fandom, I can think of only three people who have given me some kinda shout out for being the basis of one of their fics. Three people. And in that time I’ve come across literal dozens of fics that I am almost certain can trace their way back to popular posts of mine. There’s the post about Jason’s memories and the ski trip for one - this fic isn’t an isolated occurrence, I’ve found a good half a dozen or so I feel fall into the same pattern. There’s fics based off my posts about how fucked up the blame Dick got for Spyral was, with my certainty based on the fact that I know I’m the only fucking person who ever brought up various key phrases like “Bruce not having an extraction plan for Dick’s highly dangerous undercover op, leaving him stranded when Bruce got/(chose) amnesia.” I made a big deal about that in a few posts because of the fact I NEVER saw that particular element raised in any fics, and a couple months after I started including that bit regularly, I was seeing the words ‘without an extraction plan’ in every other new post Spyral fic. That’s not a coincidence.

There’s been stuff that included bits and phrasings from my post about Dick and Jason being partners who focused on helping kids who had been abused specifically....oh wait, no, my bad. The two fics I’m thinking of there lifted straight up entire lines from that post but just made it about Jason and TIM doing that instead, despite like.....the entire basis of that headcanon stemming from Dick’s juvie origin but whatever. There’s been stuff based on juvie posts of mine, stuff based on posts I’ve made about Mirage, there’s been stuff based on the post about Jason looking into why Dick was undercover as a mob enforcer and then Renegade, there’s been stuff clearly inspired by my headcanons about Jason calling Dick for advice after the Garzonas case. I could go on. There’s a fucking LOT.

I don’t try to give myself too much credit but I’m not unaware of being a loud voice in this fandom and that having an impact. And like I said, I’m not adverse to inspiring people to make their own stuff based off an idea they initially saw me present. That’s fine. People should feel free to do that. My problem is that none of this exists in a vacuum. It exists in a fandom where I regularly get people lecturing me on my presentation, people hyping up how negative I make fandom, my condescension, my anger, my hostility, etc, etc. 

But the thing I never see is any awareness whatsoever that like....dudes, I’m literally just a guy on the internet. And that goes two ways. Yeah, I have an impact on people, but they have one on me too. And I’m tired and frustrated by it being acted like this is a one way street and everyone is just helpless victims of my bullying, while meanwhile SOME OF THE EXACT SAME PEOPLE GIVING ME CRAP FOR MY NEGATIVITY are ACTIVELY adding to their own fics with stuff that I JUST posted about.

And like, I see people vagueblogging about the negativity on their dashes and its impact on fandom right after I have a Dick Grayson rant blow up and get a few hundred notes......but its acted like I DID that to fandom, that’s my negativity and mine alone when its like....y’know, if you’re not following me yourself, and this stuff is still on your dash, you uh....have to be following people who reblog my negative posts for some reason or another. And given that there are obviously reasons you follow THOSE people, maybe instead of worrying about what I’M doing all the time, you can spare a thought or two for the fact that I don’t have any power to make people reblog anything, and for whatever reason, something about my oh so negative post resonated with those people reblogging it onto your dash, which also kinda suggests it wasn’t negative in THEIR eyes, but was actually a kind of validation of thoughts or feelings they already had?

Trust me, there’s no mind control ray at work here. This mood is also brought to you by the cricket sounds that come every time I fucking BEG people to reblog and signal boost posts I make about rape/abuse fandom trends and depictions from my POV as a survivor, specifically. Like I mentioned, I LOSE followers every time I bring that stuff up. It doesn’t benefit me in any way whatsoever, in fact my notes tend to go comparatively radio silent for a good couple weeks after I go off on one of those jaunts, because idk, people don’t want THEIR mutuals and followers to think they agree with some of my oh so controversial stances?

Actually, I say idk, but I do know is the thing, because people actually go on anon and tell me they appreciate me posting stuff like this, and its like.....that....doesn’t actually make me feel good? Because I never expect any single person in particular to reblog me, but when I say crickets after I post on those topics, I mean CRICKETS. I’m lucky if I can get five reblogs on those posts in total, and those are usually all from the same people. It actually kinda sucks knowing that people agree with me and what I have to say there, but they won’t put it on their own blogs because this fandom is so fucking STEEPED in its views, they don’t want to risk their friendships or back-and-forths with certain popular fandom authors by rocking the boat.

Because meanwhile I’m making myself target practice for the people who really would like me to shut up on certain topics but are too cowardly to ever confront me directly about why they dislike what I have to say there, in the vain hope that other people might finally even just START to pass some of that on even for consideration....because I can make waves by myself just by being loud and consistent, but I can’t do shit to actually make CHANGE without other people agreeing in PUBLIC so that fandom is forced to confront the fact that no, certain opinions aren’t just one loud asshole being annoying, there’s an actual viewpoint here that people actually have in greater numbers than we realized and we DON’T have as much of a monopoly on this topic as we thought.

I have anons who give me shit accusing me of driving off certain authors by making this fandom not fun for them anymore, when like, I never even fucking INTERACTED with the authors in question. Some of the names I’m accused of driving off I don’t even KNOW. I’m called an ‘abusive survivor shaming cunt’ with zero irony or self-awareness that they’re literally doing the exact same thing because they don’t like the stance *I* take as a survivor posting about how ‘some survivors use dark fic/rape fantasy to cope’ shouldn’t be treated as a monolithic defense of such things if it leads directly into the same kind of survivor shaming other people view criticism of such fic as being in the first place.

I’ve had to unfollow mutuals because I post about how reblogging posts about purity culture is a direct fucking slap into the face to people like me whose stances on fandom culture are directly based on our own personal experiences and the intersection those have with various popular fandom takes.....like you don’t have to agree with all my takes obviously, but if you can’t see how framing a naive pursuit of ideological purity as the only possible reason people object to certain fandom trends when I’m literally standing right here saying no actually, the way these fandom trends impact me is the reason for me saying the things I say when I say “here’s how this fandom trend impacts me”.....like.....c’mon. 

And I’ve had mutuals unfollow me because despite following me because they liked my takes on social justice issues THEY care about, I just ‘post too much about what’s really just a personal issue’ and has no larger social relevance whatsoever, obviously. LOL. (Oh and this of course has nothing to do with them getting friendly with various popular authors on discord, who happen to be vocal about ‘disapproving’ of any fic criticism whatsoever. Just FYI, there’s a reason I haven’t followed anyone new or made any new mutuals in like....a year. I have my reasons for being....not quick about that).

I get condescended to constantly about not minding the tags, and then radio silence when I list literal examples of ways in which people haven’t tagged things correctly, tagged things at all, or literally used the tags in an attempt TO trigger people they just don’t like. 

And meanwhile, allllllll of this keeps happening while the general narrative is I’m this loud asshole guy with zero concern about anything but his own personal likes or dislikes and who makes fandom a negative place that’s unwelcoming in general. And with basically zero mention of all the ways in which I’ve contributed to this fandom, the amount of content I’ve made that has DIRECTLY inspired people, and the productive conversations I’ve started which have resulted in people actually changing the way they approach various characters or dynamics in fics.

Its THAT part that bugs me, specifically.

Look, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again now.....I’m not anyone’s victim. Negative fandom interactions are negative fandom interactions. All this complaining I’m doing here - lol, that’s all it is. I’m venting. I’m pissed off and I think its relevant to a greater fandom dynamic or tendencies a lot of people unknowingly or consciously reinforce, and so I’m just fucking SAYING it because while its not something I EXPECT this post will do much to change, if at all, I would still like it to change so any effort towards that end is still better than no effort at all...hence, my posting this rather than bottling it up so at least people have it to consider. 

If you don’t agree with it, if you don’t like that it exists at all, if it ruins your day to have to consider whether or not you or people you know or even like are active participants in what someone else is describing as y’know....fairly day-ruining in its own way? Hit that unfollow, that block, that make new text post button of your own and have your own rant about what a douchebag I am.

Literally all I’m trying to express is like.....fa*ndom’s got a lot to say about the stuff I have to say about fandom, but like....this is a two way interaction. A lot of people make a big deal about MY impact (again, JUST the negative though, lol) but I don’t ever see anyone ever addressing anyone else about hey maybe you could spare a thought or two about YOUR impact for a change as well.

I mean, what if....just maybe...what if.....a lot of my behavior or attitude has a lot to do with how people approach or talk about me BEFORE that display of attitude or certain behavior? Weirdly....I feel like maybe something that could then have a transformative effect on the kind of behavior or attitude people dislike from me....is.....them acknowledging or addressing things they might have done to prompt certain responses from me?

I don’t actually like being whiny or negative or down in general, just to be clear? If I see something I have a problem with or think could use change or improvement, I say so - but I pretty much always put an effort into expressing both WHY and HOW I think possible change could look - because I’m not generally interested in being negative for the sake of just being negative. I just....want things to be better. That’s not an obsession with purity or perfection, btw, I will NEVER understand how people think that survivors of rape and abuse (which include a lot more ‘antis’ than anyone else seems to want to acknowledge) and the like EVER expects perfection or thinks that the world will ever produce that - lol no I’m actually pretty clear that things being perfect is pointless, I’m just interested in BETTER.

But I mean, I like being goofy and silly and also analytical and contemplative and also creative and spontaneous. I like lots of things. I like lots of moods. I like producing, creating, generating, interacting, engaging, I like a million things more than I like THIS kind of mood, THIS kind of post.

But I’m just not someone who is content to sit and stew in that sort of thing when I know full well that the problem does not actually stem from something broken or flawed inside of me, because I’m also someone who does believe very strongly in periodic bouts of self-reflection and honest self-assessment.....so that I can change things about myself when and where I feel necessary. But this also has the effect of me also being VERY aware of when the problem is not internal, but actually just me having a perfectly valid reaction or emotional response to outside stimulus. Aka fandom’s interaction with me, every bit as much as my interaction with fandom.

So....posts like this. I’ll do my usual rituals, get myself back onto my preferred trains of thought soon enough on my own, because ultimately that is all I can control and just because I make posts like this doesn’t mean I ever EXPECT any specific result - or a result at all - to come from it. 

But, y’know, sue me for being hopeful.

I know. What an ass am I?

[quarantined-with-bucky]

American Boy

Bucky x Reader

Request: So basically buckyxreader where she is a super successful businesswomen and awfully confident but when she’s with bucky she feels insecure as many women want him and she’s insecure of nat. Based on “American Boy” by little mix where bucky is her american boy and the other girl in the song is nat. So like angst with a happy ending (maybe smut if you’re comfortable idk idk).

Words: ~ 9,700

Summary: Dating Bucky can be challenging sometimes -- all the time.

Warnings: Smut, angst

A/N: Sorry this took me so long :( I recently started work so its been hard to write -- but I’m really happy with how this one turned out!! Thank you so much for the request!

And I met him back when I was out in California He was playing in a band and she was dancing on a stage And he says that I'm the one but she's the one that got away And he never knew her real name

Nothing about tonight sounded mildly comfortable. It was going to be six hours in a too cold banquette hall, standing all night in too tall heels, a too tight dress, with your hair scraped back into a too painful bun. From the moment you stepped inside, the flesh on your arms and décolleté erupting into goosebumps – nothing a little alcohol can’t fix, you thought to yourself, snagging a glass of champagne off of the tray from the first waiter you saw.

“Y/N,” Tony called, opening his arms to greet you. His suit was perfectly pressed, a three-piece suit that cost more than twice your monthly rent. You walked up to him, giving him a side hug, checking yourself out in the reflection of his iconic red glasses. “See, I knew you’d come.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, remembering how for the past week you’d declined his numerous invitations to his party. “I hope you know that I’m charging you overtime for this.”

“I’d expect nothing less.” He ushers you away while he continues mingling with his other guests.

Never in a million years had you thought you’d be an A-list guest at one of Tony Stark’s infamous parties. But, as fate would have it, you and Tony had been working together quite a bit in the recent years. What began as a little start-up from your college dorm room, quickly grew into a multinational billion-dollar company. Stark industries contracted your company out to spearhead multiple new projects – including the development of high-tech equipment for the Avengers. You had many ventures, sectors growing from technological advancement, to biometrics, to teams specializing in law, advertising, and operations.

The past few years had been a whirlwind for you. Moving to New York, managing your ever-growing company – up until now your life had been all work and no play. Once you met Tony, you knew that your world would flip upside down. You’d been in Forbes 30-Under-30 list for three years straight. Your life had grown into nothing but interviews, business deals, and fame – and you loved it. You felt like you were on top of the world at this moment in your life; nothing was going to stop your forward momentum from climbing up the ladder.

“Hey,” a smooth voice pulled you out of your fog, a figure popping up next to you.

“Hey, Steve,” you responded, smiling up at the blond man.

“You having a good night?” You’d met Steve a handful of times before through Tony, working with him a few times in the past. You don’t know if you could outright call him your close friend, but Steve was always so kind.

You could should be using tonight as a networking opportunity, but after an extremely stressful week at work, all you wanted to do was crawl into a bubble bath and relax. You couldn’t do that, so you thought you’d at least try to let loose and take it easy tonight, hoping to catch up with friends and enjoy some time partying. “I guess,” you shrugged, taking another sip of champagne.

“That makes two of us,” he replied, taking an equally long sip of his drink. “It’s hard to lay low at Tony’s parties, y’know?”

“Its hard to lay low when you’re Captain America,” you joked, nudging his arm with your elbow. He rolled his eyes again, running a hand through his short blond hair.

Your eyes scanned over the crowd, trying to find something worthwhile to talk to Steve about: maybe about the couples dancing in the center of the room, the large crowd gathered at the bar, the performers that laced their way through the influx of people. Your gaze fell upon a smaller group of people gathered around a table, laughing, telling stories and interrupting each other with more tall tales. You only recognized a couple people in the group; Sam Wilson: tall, well-built, perhaps a little tipsy, chirping away with his witty comments; Natasha Romanoff: a goddess, quiet, watching, observing, black dress so tight on her beautiful figure it looked like it was painted on; Bucky Barnes: the epitome of tall dark and handsome, at the forefront of the conversation, laughing and cussing telling his sensational war story, dark tendrils of hair hanging loosely in front of his face, obstructing the view of his blue eyes.

“Have you met Bucky?” Steve asked, interrupting your thoughts. You shook your head ‘no,’ unable to tear your eyes away from him. His black suit was complemented quite nicely with a fitted black shirt, the top buttons undone, his tanned muscle peaking out. He ran his metallic hand through his long hair – you finally were able to see his eyes, the only color on him, so bright compared to their dark surroundings. And they were looking at you.

Tearing your eyes away from him, you turned your head up to Steve. He was watching Bucky, watching him looking at you; Steve’s head turned between the two of you, almost unable to stop the smile from pulling at his lips. Steve pulled you into the group, making space for you to stand between him and Bucky. As introductions were passed around the group, you felt eyes on you. This time, the set of green eyes.

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Natasha give you the up and down a few times. Your first reaction was that it wasn’t in a bad or necessarily judgmental way; she was interested in who the outsider was. She was protective, it was instinctual; she would observe said outsider, finding all of her flaws, quirks, secrets, until she was certain she wasn’t a threat. When you were introduced to her, she politely flashed you a smile with her infamous painted red lips and shook your hand.

“(Y/N), this is Bucky,” Steve finished, watching eagerly as the two of you shook hands and exchanged smiles.

“(Y/N),” Bucky whispered, your name tasting sweet on his lips; he tipped his head ever so slightly towards you in greeting.

“Nice to meet you, Bucky.”

Everybody took the hint – that hint being Steve wiggling his eyebrows at everyone – and the group dispersed. You waved goodbye to the like, politely offering goodbyes to everyone. In your peripheral vison, you watched as the red head gave you one final up-and-down, crossing her arms over her busty chest, flitting her eyes to Bucky’s before she strutted off.

…

You hit it off with Bucky instantly, spending the night discussing everything from your future prospects to your relationship status to your past (specifically, your past). He was completely enamored by you. He was obsessed with the fact that people looked up to you; you demanded respect – so much so, in fact, that your success intimidated them; you were unapproachable to those who didn’t have their shit together. After that night, he knew he had to see you again.

And you could not feel more the same way.

It started fairly privately. Despite your constant media attention – being the CEO of a Fortune 500 company had that effect – being Tony Stark’s business partner escalated that. Usually on your commute to and from work, whether that be your corporate office or the Avenger’s tower, there would be a few paparazzi and a couple reporters following you around. They wanted information on you, your ventures, but most importantly: Tony Stark. When you were contracted to work with Stark Industries, you knew this was a possibility – in fact, it was the number one con on your pros & cons list. While you did think it was a decent opportunity for exposure, it surely came back to bite you in the ass.

You didn’t anticipate meeting Bucky Barnes – you surely didn’t anticipate dating him, either. You couldn’t be happier with Bucky; you wouldn’t let the incessant paparazzi and media attention get to you. Surely, you’d figured that dating an actual Avenger would draw some attention to yourself. However, you couldn’t have predicted the magnitude it would have on your daily life. The amount cameramen and reporters that followed you on a daily basis more than doubled.

Now, you’d never considered yourself shy, especially not camera shy – hell, all you were doing was walking from your car to and from different buildings – you could surely handle getting your picture taken. You had to admit, you were put together (and damn hot). You wore tailored suits, the tall heels; your hair and makeup were done perfectly every day.          

It’s not like you hadn’t been on the cover of magazines before; but they were articles, studies, biographies. You posed for the cover of Forbes and Wall Street Journal and Harvard Business Review. Gracing the cover of tabloid magazines, however, was new territory for you. They talked about your style, your makeup, you clothes, your hair – nothing was too surface level for them to delve into. At first, that’s all it was. Noting and pricing your style, People magazine printing a “Who is She?” issue.

Then the comparisons started.

It was a side-by-side of you and Natasha – Black Widow. How could you compete with her?

You were sitting in bed one morning, up early before dawn, checking your phone before you started your morning routine. It was supposed to be like any other Thursday: work, meetings, executive board reviews: productive. But after reading that article, your heart deflated; today would only truly be over once you get to crawl back into your bed at the end of the day and sulk under the covers.

You slowly let out a long breath as you scrolled quickly through the article. “(Y/N) Becomes Black Widow’s Replacement: Is She Good Enough or Will She Get Tangled in the Web?” leave it to Daily Mail to start off with a shitty pun to ruin your mood.

The first picture was a full body shot of you laid next to a similar image of Natasha. She was shorter, sure – but curvier. She had more muscle, obviously – and those legs. Even you wanted to be strangled to death by her thighs. (And you felt like dying at that moment, that’s for sure). Maybe she just wore tighter clothes? You did, in fact, wear well-tailored clothes – you were actually very fashion forward for the business world, taking Fall 2020 by storm. She just got the chance to wear tighter clothes more often.

The second photo was an extremely flattering behind shot. The photographer might as well have taken the camera and pointed it right up your skirt. You’d heard the tabloids comparing the asses of other famous women, surely even the English Royalty had headlines circulating about it. You actually thought you had a good ass – you do – but hers was better. Black fucking Widow and you were supposed to somehow compete?

The last shot was a close up of your faces. You had to admit, they probably could’ve picked a worse picture of you. You weren’t smiling, you weren’t frowning – it was neutral. Your brows maybe slightly narrowed. Natasha, on the other hand, was glaring at the paparazzi. They gave her space, as if they took one step too close, she would murder them (and although she was actually extremely kind to you, they were probably right in that case). Her glare exuded confidence, intimidation. That was the difference between your auras: while your success may have been intimidating to others, it was her essential being that was intimidating – she could kill you just by looking at you.

While some people may not appreciate that fact, the pure daunting atmosphere that surrounded her, there was one person that did: James Buchanan Barnes.

He, himself, had the same ambiance, after all: that is being the don’t fuck with me stare.

Oh, and I don't mean to get so caught up And insecure 'bout all the things you say Oh, and I don't mean to be jealous, it's just careless me Boy, I must drive you mad

“Hey, Bucky,” you greeted, swinging open your front door, pressing a chaste kiss to the lips of the man before you.

He hummed against your lips, caught off guard as you pulled away sooner than expected. “Hey, baby,” he responded, shrugging it off stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. “It smells great,” he noted regarding the pasta sauce simmering on the stove. He dipped a metallic pinky finger in the sauce, cheekily smiling at you as he licked his makeshift tasting-spoon. “Tastes great – no surprise.”

You couldn’t help but return his smile, trying to shake off the bad day you’d had, instead turning all focus to your giggle boyfriend before you. He takes two steps forward, engulfing you in his strong arms, rubbing his flesh hand up and down your back in a soothing motion. You rested your cheek against his chest, taking a deep breath in; his earthy scent calmed you down, the heat radiating off of him offering you to a level of relaxation you didn’t know was possible. “Did you have a bad day, baby?” He cooed quietly, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear.

“Yeah,” you breathed, nodding into his chest. “Bad. And busy. And annoying.”

“Annoying?” He repeated, testing the word on his tongue, but not questioning further. “Come on, why don’t we eat because I’m hungry – and I know you’re hungry – and get you to relax.” You smile up at him, giving him a proper kiss this time, unsure if he was just saying that to get dinner going, or if his supersoldier senses could actually tell that you were hungry (because you were).

Dinner went smoothly. It was quiet, moreso than usual. But it was nice. It was calm: a good change of pace from both of your busy schedules. It was tranquil: spending the evening exchanging loving glances and touches across the table, playing footstie under the table, Bucky quite literally licking pasta sauce off your cheek.

As he finished up his third serving (to which you just sip your wine while he gets his fill), you can’t help but break the silence and light conversation with a loaded question: “What’s with you and Natasha?”

You didn’t mean for the question to come out so abrupt or harsh, but it had been eating at your mind all day. You’d found yourself looking at that article during every five-minute break you got. Comparing hair, clothes, smiles, eyes, teeth – everything.

“What’s with us?” He repeated, eyebrows cocked in misunderstanding, palms raised in confusion. He didn’t understand the question.

You sighed heavily, dropping your eyes to the near empty wine glass before you. “I don’t know,” you grumbled, running your hands over your forehead, dropping them behind your head, pulling your hair a bit. “I’ve been seeing these articles about her – about her and me,” you clarified, trailing off, hoping he’d understand the picture. As he remained silent, you sat back against your chair, slouching. “Did you guys date or something?” You immediately bit the inside of your cheek. The question burned coming off your tongue.

His chuckle almost startled you out of your fog; your stomach dropped as you felt knots pull at all your insides. “Babe.” He reaches across the table with open palms, waiting for you to place your hands in his. You hesitated, but eventually complied, his soft smile and kind eyes giving you no other choice. “No. We never had – or did – anything. Never. I promise.”

Okay, well that made you feel better. You let out a breathy sigh (this time of relief) as you gave his hands a gentle squeeze. “Okay,” you repeated. “Okay.” It made you feel a little better, sure, but then why?

He raised his eyebrows once again. “You don’t believe me?”

“No – no, no, no – ” you replied quickly, reaching farther across the table, fingertips grazing his forearms. “I’m just confused. I keep seeing articles comparing me and her,” you stated very slowly, unsure of the right words, unsure of what his innate reaction would be.

“We have a… past,” he responded, slowly; it was calculated.

But in that moment, he knew he miscalculated. “A past?”

No, not like that, he thought. But like what, exactly? How was he supposed to explain it? God, his own life was complicated enough to explain – he hadn’t dared to divulge that deep, in fear of ruining your newly blossoming relationship. He owed you some sort of explanation, though, right? But he was at a loss for words at the worst time possible. “It just goes back to… a long time ago… with… well… ” With no words left to complete his fragment of a sentence, he raised his left hand and wiggled his metallic fingers.

Your lips formed an “oh” shape as you said the same word mentally. Oh, no shit, more like. The Russian spy and the Winter Soldier had intertwined pasts. You felt like an idiot – like the answer was laying right there before you, your eyes glazing right over it. “Bucky, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry but – ”

He cut you off immediately, taking one of your hands into both of his. He looked you straight in the eyes, his own blue irises staring deep into yours. “Don’t apologize, please.” He swallowed hard. “I don’t want that part of my life taking over my life now. You’re not prying – I need to be open with you about it.” You nodded slowly. “I want you to be apart of my life, (Y/N),” he clarified, nearly smiling at you missing the implication of his previous sentence.

You grinned, a goofy wine-infused smile. You leaned across the table, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips.

That night, he began telling you about his past; nothing he wasn’t comfortable with discussing was mentioned. You didn’t push him, didn’t ask questions, didn’t offer opinion or advice. The only thing you offered was solace, comfort, and hot tea. You held him in bed, ran your fingers through his hair, rubbed small circles on his muscled back.

He told you about how he trained her, how their connected past drew scrutiny to them in the media. How their ties to Russia, Hydra, and a few not-so politically correct incidents in the past tied them closer together both in eyes of the tabloids and, subsequently, to each other.

You had no questions, no comments. There was nothing for you to say. You weren’t questioning the validity of his past and you didn’t question the fact that he and Natasha were just friends. You were confident in Bucky, confident that he was telling the truth – confident in your relationship.

The two of you fell asleep that night wiping tears off each other’s cheeks; but neither of you had felt more safe – more in love – than at that moment in your lives.

…

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you,” he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, eyes narrowing down at you – at your figure.

You were turned away from him, trying to busy yourself, acting as though bringing it up again was casual, like it was just a normal question on par with how was your day? It, in fact, was extremely loaded; there couldn’t be more of a loaded question, in Bucky’s opinion (in your own opinion, too). But, dammit, you needed validation – wasn’t that okay?

It was okay.

It was always okay. Bucky understood that. Even he, himself, needed validation in a similar way. However, there were two distinct differences about what he needed vs. what you needed.

1. He never needed validation against someone else.

Bucky was insecure – the fact of the matter was every single person in the world had insecurities, from the brightest minds to the most beautiful models; there isn’t a single person who isn’t immune to outside pressure, societal expectations, internal comparisons. Sometimes Bucky would be insecure of his arm, oftentimes he’d be insecure about his past. He’d wonder about his hair, he’d read articles about himself, comments people posted online. Bucky had a certain confidence about himself, sure. He was intimidating (that was both a good and a bad thing).

But you. You were intimidating, too – you were, in Bucky’s eyes – the baddest bitch; you controlled the business world, dominate magazine headlines, demanded the attention of every man in the room. He loved it. He loved the fact that you were all that and more, and that he got to come home to you. He got to hold you in his arms at night. He got to make love to you.

That’s why he didn’t understand your – what he determined to be – obsession with her. All the time asking him about her. Were you as good as her? Were you better than her? He understood, at first. Natasha was very intimidating – to anyone, even her own team. He didn’t mind showing you extra attention, sprinkling you with more compliments, lovingly laying his hands on the places you didn’t like about yourself. He loved you; he loved complimenting you. Nothing he ever said was a lie, so he had no problem saying them.

But as time went on, you kept asking. About. Her.

2. He believed you when you validated him.

Not only were you asking about Natasha, constantly comparing yourself to her – your body, your brains, your face, even your hair. Again, he had no problem telling you how beautiful you were; it was a service to you that he would trade anything in the world for. He loved to say that to you; complimenting your intelligence, looks, attitude – all of it.

Maybe he wasn’t complimenting you enough anymore? Even so, you had to know the way he felt about you? He tried really hard to validate it as his own fault. Like it was something he had done to cause you to suddenly be so insecure. But all it took was one walk down the bustling street-stands on the New York City’s streets for him to realize. You, after all, had graced the cover of every magazine as of lately. You and Natasha.

He wasn’t so hard on you or himself after that little piece clicked in his head.

But at the end of the day, he couldn’t stop himself from wondering if you never believed him. Did you trust him? Did you love him? Those questions ran through his head at night – as much as he hated it, he couldn’t stop it.

“It’s not how many times, Bucky! It’s – it’s – ” You tripped over your own words.

“What is it, then, (Y/N)? Because I sure as hell can’t figure it out.” In fact, you didn’t know what it was. You couldn’t pinpoint it. You couldn’t put the words together.

You turned around, crossing your arms across your chest, mirroring him. You just stared back it him, biting your lip. There wasn’t anything you could say; just offered him a shrug.

“(Y/N), come on,” he began. “You can’t seriously believe the shit they say.” He was referring to the incessant media coverage. The eyes on you – 24/7 cameras. It eats away at you; it was all you could think about. “You’re too smart for them. What’s this all about, then?”

If there was anyone who could see right through you, it was him. But if there was one thing he needed to know about you, it was that you had too much pride to admit any sort of insecurity to anyone – even your boyfriend of now eight months.

It was in that moment that you wondered if he took a short tone with her the way he had been with you lately. Did she have to ask him such endless questions? Definitely not. She had nothing to worry about. She didn’t care.

That was the difference between the two of you.

You couldn’t do anything but care.

Singing, singing, singing Ooh la la, he breaks my heart I know he thinks about her when he plays guitar And ooh la la, my American boy

You and Bucky sat on the couch, the movie playing in front you now long forgotten. The past few weeks have been stressful for the both of you. You were both dealing with a lot at work; you with new projects and development issues, Bucky with compiling intel that seemly led nowhere. Last night, you’d attended another one of Tony’s parties with Bucky. You thought it was going to be a fun night, seeing all your old friends, catching up with everyone you hadn’t seen in so long. What was supposed to be a casual night of fun drinking and dancing, turned sour very quickly.

It was nice in the beginning, catching up with Sam and Steve; that is, until you caught a glimpse of Bucky from the corner of your eye. He was just meant to get a refill of drinks. All he had to do was weave through the crowd, make it to the bar, and return with the drinks. You felt that it shouldn’t have taken him that long. Maybe you should’ve offered to get them instead.

There he stood, leaning against the bar, a handful of cold drinks sitting in front of him on the tabletop. You watched as he ignored the cups the bartender placed down in front of him a few minutes ago; watched as a drop of precipitation slid down the side of the cold glass, pooling with all the others at the granite bar top.

Beside him, a tall blonde mimicked his movements, leaning against the counter. She spoke to him in a hushed tone, gazing up at him under her long eyelashes. Her perfectly manicured hands grazed up and down his arm, undoubtedly innocently asking about the strong metal underneath his shirt sleeve. You rolled your eyes, nearly scoffing at her fairly blatant attempt at flirting.

You wouldn’t be so pissed off, usually. She was beautiful, sure, but you were confident in your relationship with Bucky. You knew how he felt about you and he knew how strong your feelings were for him. There was no doubt on either end – so why shouldn’t he be able to have a conversation with some woman at a party? He had just grown comfortable enough to talk about his metal arm, finally accepting the gift that the great King T’Challa had gifted him.

So why did this interaction piss you off so much?

Because you knew that if a man had come up to you to chat so innocently with you, he’d be on him in less than one second. And if a man had come up to you to chat while also running his hand up your arm or down your back, Bucky would ensure that man would be leaving this party with nothing but then broken fingers.

But your pride took the best of you, as usual. You rolled your eyes to yourself, carrying on your conversation with Sam and Steve, trying your best not to look over Sam’s shoulder too much, staring past him and at Bucky. You held your empty cup in your hand, almost now more pissed that your new drink was sitting lonely at the bar, when you needed alcohol more than ever in this moment.

All you wanted was to go up there, rip her hand off your boyfriend, and get your damn drink. Instead, you held your tongue all night. When Bucky returned with your drink, you thanked him and took it, gulping it down fairly quickly. When his hand rested on your waist, you simply gave yourself a twist, shrugging his hand off of you. You felt him give you a questioning look, but you simply pretended not to notice, instead keeping your eyes locked on Sam’s as he told his story about what ever he was talking about (you weren’t really paying attention); just smiling and nodding and looking as engaged as possible.

When you and Bucky got home that night, you quickly showered and crawled into bed. Bucky had been trying to talk to you on the car ride home, all night while you got ready for bed. Finally giving you your peace to shower, he decided to try again once he slipped into bed beside him. “What’s going on, (Y/N),” he whispered, turning towards you; but he was met with the sight of your back turned to him.

“Nothing,” you replied, face smooshed int the pillow. “’M just tired.”

His hand found your side, rubbing over your hip bone slightly, as he moved closer to you in bed. His chest pressed up against your back, his breath tickling the back of your neck. “Is that all, baby?” He kept pressing. “Let me make you feel better,” he murmured, pressing his lips to your neck, burying his face in your shoulder.

“No, Buck, stop.” You shrugged him off and lifted your shoulders in protest, pushing his head away. “I’m not in the mood – I just want to go to sleep.”

“Sorry, (Y/N),” he whispered, settling back down in the bed.

You tried to fall asleep that night, you really were tired – exhausted, in fact. But you just couldn’t calm your racing mind enough to fall asleep. You knew Bucky knew it, too. You suspected that he didn’t get much sleep either.

When you finally did get a few hours of rest, you woke up to a note left by Bucky.

Went for an early workout with Steve. Feel better, I’ll call you later.

You gave yourself a whole self-care day. Bath, face mask, manicure – the whole nine yards. You willed yourself to think of anything except Bucky and that girl – Bucky and any girl.

Every girl in the world had eyes for Bucky – why wouldn’t they? He’s absolutely gorgeous: tall, handsome, he’s got the mysterious vibe going on – basically every woman’s walking wet dream. You always gave him the benefit of the doubt when it came to women flirting with him. He was from a different time; he was just being polite. That’s what you told yourself, at least. The more Steve told you stories about him being a charmer – how he always “wooed” women back in the day – the more unsettled you became. Maybe he missed being a flirt, afterall, as he recovered, he slipped back into his old ways, whether that be an old Brooklyn accent, or his charming smile.

But how many times could you just brush it off? Blatantly flirting in front of you – sure it may have been an innocent conversation or an innocent arm touch (you know that’s how he would sell it to you) but hell, he lived in a different time now. So, he just had to get used to the fact that he had to stop letting these girls flirt with him. Was it really so hard to tell them he had a girlfriend?

Unless he thought about it and didn’t want to. He was so touch starved for the past seventy-plus years that who knows? Maybe he did enjoy all the attention – especially all the female attention. Considering the fact he was such a ladies man, maybe this is exactly what he wanted to feel like himself again, winning over all the women. And, god, all the tall women with their perfect faces and gorgeous chests, showing off more skin than they covered. They had the confidence of models, the ferociousness of catwoman – not to mention Black Widow; she was her own breed of gold-like-women.

He didn’t call you until the next day.

That’s how you ended up on your sofa, innocently watching a movie, two boxes of pizza abandoned on your coffee table. Neither of you brought up the night of Tony’s party; instead, you two sought solace in each other’s arms on the plush couch between piles of pillows.

You two ended up making out, his hands wrapping around your waist and up your back, yours winding their way through locks of his long hair. He leaned over you, your back meeting the sofa top and his chest pressing to yours. His pelvis touched yours, grinding lazily against yours. A mess of legs entangled with each other at the opposite end of the couch. His hand slid down your side, squeezing between your bodies to unbutton your jeans, his fingers slipping underneath your panties.

He groaned once his finger slipped between your slit, moaning at the wetness he found there. He pulled his hands up and shimmied your pants off, his own jeans following suit. He didn’t bother even taking them off all the way, instead latching himself on you with his pants and underwear pooling at his ankles.

His hands grabbed your hips, roughly pushing into you while his lips attached themselves to your neck. You gasped, the sudden entry startling to you. Your arms encased his torso, nails digging into his back as he roughly fucked you into the mattress. You hips met his as you tried to rock against him to meet his thrusts. His hands pinned your hips down, jackhammering you into the couch.

You were panting and moaning and screaming. You couldn’t help the noises that were coming out of your mouth. You and Bucky had tried some pretty not-vanilla stuff in the past, and sure, sex was maybe one of the best ways to get your anger out. But Bucky hadn’t ever been this nonattentive to you before. Or this quiet. Usually you couldn’t get him to shut up – between the dirty talk and the praise, you could never get him to shut up; and he loved it. He knew his whispers and all his egging-you on only flustered you more. That was the sex you loved.

This was different. He didn’t say anything; he just grunting to himself as he pounded into you, hips snapping into yours. God, you were going to be bruised tomorrow just from how hard he was holding you down. He wasn’t attentive, nor perceptive to you. He didn’t kiss you, just barred his teeth through heavy breaths.

This must have been all related to the night at Tony’s party. He was probably angry with you after that night – not talking to him at all. Not to mention you didn’t say anything when he clearly knew something was up with you; you definitely owed him an explanation. You couldn’t blame him or being angry. You weren’t so sure this was his best reaction. He was so dangerously quiet.

That’s when you threw your head back against the pillows, biting your lip and squeezing your eyes shut. Was he just fucking you to fuck you? He came quickly and without warning, spilling into you with nothing but another grunt.

He dropped on top of you, pelvis to pelvis, his cock still inside your warm cunt. He dropped his head to your chest, you shirt still left on from earlier. He shut his eyes and wrapped his arms around him. Your fingers found his hair, stroking his chestnut strands as he fell asleep on top of you.

Maybe he was just tired from waking up early? He probably needed to get his aggressions from the day out – not to mention the frustration from you basically ignoring him all day and night. There was a feeling in the back of your head, though, that this sudden change of pace may have been brought on by something else. His eyes were shut the whole time – hell, maybe he was thinking about that blonde girl from the party.

You said it to yourself as a joke – it was a fleeting thought. But you couldn’t stop thinking about it after that. Was he picturing someone else? He wasn’t turned on by you – you didn’t even get a chance to do anything sexy before he was fucking you with your clothes on. He’d probably rather be sleeping with someone else. Someone who made porn star noises and pulled his hair harder and –

God, you were tired of thinking like this.

So I wanna know who's on your phone Making me paranoid, making me bad Making me sad, making me crazy Making me feel like I needed to ask I wanna know if you're at home And if you're at home, baby, are you alone? Are you alone? Answer your phone Oh, baby, no no no

Things went back to normal after that. You weren’t sure what had gotten into him – and you – that day, but it was nothing but a distant memory. You were dating for about a year and a half. From that point, you two had kept everything very lowkey. Extravagant parties were few and far between, dates became even more private – no distractions, nothing to get between the two of you.

“Baby, I’m home,” you called, throwing your purse and keys on the kitchen table. You were hit with the faint smell of dinner, but as you checked the stovetop and oven, you were met with nothing – just the leftovers already cold in the fridge. You worked late tonight – tonight and every other night for the past three weeks. It was only nine, which wouldn’t be so bad if you didn’t have to wake up at five tomorrow to get into the office early. Your team was being met with a deadline soon, there were a lot of extra hours being put in to get the project done. You weren’t one to complain because you were the boss. You weren’t going at this alone, you had everyone else working with you helping out. But it was your job to make sure everything got done, and that included being the first one in and the last one out.

Bucky said it never bothered him. He’d go on missions for days – sometimes weeks – at a time. He encouraged you to work hard, he loved your drive and commitment to your company. He motivated you; he knew you had drive and could get things done. He loved being able to support you, too. When Steve first introduced the idea of dating to him, he wasn’t sure he wanted someone who was only obsessed with him: who got their own recognition just by being his girlfriend. He was lucky enough to be your boyfriend.

You took the Tupper wear from the fridge, popping it in the microwave and waiting for your food. You noticed Bucky on the sofa. Kicking your heels off you made your way to the living room, calling out to him again. He sat up, his face donning a large grin as he waved to you, quickly pointing to the cell phone propped up against his ear. You gave him a shy wave back, turning back to the microwave, soon to be beeping with your meal. You ate dinner alone at the kitchen table, nothing but the sound of Bucky’s roaring laughter bouncing off your ear. By the time you finished, you tossed the bowl into the sink, making your way up to your bedroom.

“Ok, yeah, I’ve gotta go – ” Bucky said into the phone, before interrupting himself with a chuckle, laughing at whatever the person on the other end said. “Yes, I have to go. Yeah, no, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

You shut the door before he could get off the couch and flopped straight into bed, groaning. All you wanted to do was fall right asleep, unbothered. That’s when Bucky came in and plopped himself right down on the bed next to you. “Hey, babe,” he greeted you, giving you a light pat on the ass.

“Hey, Buck,” you replied, tucking your arms up underneath your head, propping your head up on your hands. You offered him a tired smile, gazing into his adoring blue eyes. “Who was that on the phone?”

“It was nobody,” he replied, quickly changing the subject. “How was work?”

Well that was extremely unlike him. You already knew all his friends. If it was one of them, he would’ve just said so. But it clearly wasn’t, especially considering how giggly he was on the phone. You just narrowed your eyes at him, breezing right past it. “Good – tiring,” you corrected. “But this contract closes out next week, so hopefully not that many more long days after that.”

“Good to hear, I know you can get it done, baby,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose.

…

The next day, you were met with nearly the same sight. Bucky on the couch, but this time, dinner was covered on the stove. “Thanks for cooking, Buck,” you call to him, taking the lid off the pot and serving yourself a plate. He jumped from the couch and came up behind you, hugging you from behind and kissing your neck.

“Anytime, baby.” He pressed another smooch to your neck before stepping back and grabbing a bottle of wine from the counter. He poured up to glasses, situating himself at one end of the table, waiting for you to join him at the other end. Once you do, your phone rings from your purse. You drop your head back with a groan. “You should probably get that,” Bucky offered, reaching for your purse and holding it out to you.

You give him a quiet “thank you,” and answer the call. Not even before you can answer it, he’s pulling out his own phone and texting away on it. You take your call at the table, a quick last-minute question from a colleague. You tried to focus on what he was saying on the other line, but all you could do was stare at Bucky, smiling down at his phone, furiously typing away.

“No problem, Dave. Thanks for taking a look at it, we can finish up tomorrow morning,” you say into the phone, offering a quick goodbye before hanging up and digging into your food, glaring at Bucky from under your eyelashes. He still sat on his phone, laughing to himself. Once he heard your knife slide against the plate, he locked his phone, shoving it back into his pocket and looking up at you, starting another conversation about your day. You quickly changed the subject to him.

You internally rolled your eyes. All you got was talking about your day and whatever girl on the other end got giggly Bucky? Whenever work got busy, your relationship got boring. It may have been partially your fault: short tempered, tired; you put everything into your work and maybe not enough into Bucky. But your jealousy issues got the better of you. Maybe he was just talking to Sam? Or laughing at memes with Steve – they had a lot to catch up on, afterall. But if so, wouldn’t he just say that instead of saying he was talking to “nobody?”

But your paranoia was actually well placed and almost deserving. Bucky still graced the covers of magazines and newspapers. The attention people gave you quickly died down after the one-year mark on your relationship. You didn’t mind, all it was just a little more peace in your day-to-day life. That same attention never did (and never would) die down for him. He still saved the world; more importantly, he was still hot. Meaning the tabloids would continue to try to stir up trouble with him and every woman he knew. They wanted to play matchmaker, constantly shipping him with the other beautiful women he spent time with – whether that be at work or not. Thinking about all that and Bucky’s charismatic personality was almost too much for you.

…

The third night in a row where you’d come home past nine. The first night without dinner. You were met with an empty apartment, no food, no lights, not a single sign of life. You tossed your bag on the table and immediately called for takeout. As you waited for your Chinese food to arrive, you changed into your pajamas, and called Bucky.

No answer.

All you wanted was to lay on the couch and feast with him. If you were going to stuff your face, you wanted it to be with someone who really knew how to eat. After trying again with no answer, you dropped your phone on the coffee table and began flipping through the channels on TV. Not finding anything good to watch, but also deciding you didn’t have the mental capacity to watch something new, you threw on some Friends reruns. Something you could watch without having to pay attention: just what you were in the mood for.

When the doorbell rang, you jumped, almost forgetting you ordered food. You swung open the door, half expecting to find Bucky on the other side, but you were instead met with the delivery boy. You paid the guy and took the food to the living room, feasting on the couch straight from the little takeaway containers. You didn’t do this often, but damn, it was relaxing.

You picked up your phone: no notifications.

There were a few excuses you made up for him as you stuffed your face with noodles. He could be in the middle of training. You knew him and Steve too well, and knew they always had enough supersoldier energy to fit a workout in anywhere and anytime. That, or he could just be busy. Maybe a work thing came up – he does save the world for a living, afterall. He could just be at the tower. It’s not like he officially lived with you. (It was unofficial, though; he did spend nearly every other night sleeping here with you. And if he didn’t, he would at least give you a reason why he wasn’t). But you’re not his mother or his gatekeeper. There was no reason he absolutely had to tell you where he was and that he wasn’t coming over – that was crazy. But it was just…

Unlike him.

Even if he was at the tower, why wouldn’t he answer?

And as you continued onto your dumplings, you quickly began comfort eating, as your mind traveled to the worst reason you could make up.

Afterall, he never told you who he was laughing on the phone with all this time. He couldn’t even stop himself from laughing at his texts – it was blatantly obvious. There’s no way Reddit could be that funny. You scoffed. It probably was some girl – maybe that blonde from the party. You had no idea of knowing who, but you surely couldn’t stop yourself from speculating.

You called again.

Again.

Again.

You just wanted to hear his voice.

You just wanted to know he was okay.

Okay and alone.

American, my American, American boy You know it's my American boy

It wasn’t every day that you thought about Bucky in such a way. Honestly, you didn’t like to think about the other women that he might be friends (or more) with. It was just your own little fucked up indulgence.

Against your best judgement, Bucky convinced you to go to another one of Tony’s parties. “It’s Steve’s birthday party, (Y/N), you have to go!”

So, you did go. And just like the very first time you met Bucky – at one of these parties – you dragged yourself out of bed and got all dressed up to head to the event. You knew even Steve wouldn’t want such a big celebration, so you’d at least have one person to mope around with.

You held on to Bucky the whole night; your arm gripping his metal bicep as the two of you mingled. Bucky liked having you tucked into his side all night, the warmth of your body pressed up against his arm. “Hey, Stevie,” you greeted him, offering a warm hug. “Happy birthday!”

“Thanks, (Y/N),” he replied, hugging you, then Bucky. “Happy Independence Day,” he added.

Bucky’s hand immediately snaked around your waste, pulling your hip against his.

It wasn’t until he left to use the bathroom that you suddenly felt naked. You almost wanted to wrap your arms around yourself in comfort. You felt stupid – you were in a room full of friends, people you knew, that you liked. Yet, every time you were in this setting, you never felt more insecure.

And apparently it showed.

You were joined by none-other than the reason for your insecurity. “(Y/N),” she greeted you with a curt nod.

“Hey, Natasha,” you responded, taking a long sip of your drink. She watched you under lidded eyes, her red lips pursing slightly. She looked great, of course, her royal blue dress hugging her curves tightly, he heels adding extra height the both of you knew she didn’t need. “What’s up?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “Enjoying the night?”

Now it was your turn to shrug. “As much as I can, I guess. I’ve been waiting for the fireworks show. It was the best last year.”

She nodded, this time taking a swig of her own drink. “Tony sure does know how to throw a party.”

“Yeah,” you scoffed. “He’s thrown enough of them.”

The two of you stood in silence for a moment; it wasn’t super comfortable for you, but she sure didn’t seem to notice – or care. “You seem a little on edge.”

She wanted you to out yourself. Surely, she was going to pull it out of you somehow. “Not really my scene,” you noted, swirling the ice around in your glass.

“Look, (Y/N),” she began, obviously confirming your suspicion. “There’s never been anything between me and Bucky. In fact – ” she glanced around the room, eyes stopping on a particular man. “ – I’ve got a few skeletons of my own.” You tried to follow her line of sight, but the crowd was too thick in that direction. “He loves you so stop trying to find things wrong with your relationship. He may have been a charming guy back in the day, but you’ve got him wrapped around your finger.” She winked, a small smile building across her plump red lips.

You didn’t even know what to say in that moment. You gawked at her – at Black Widow hyping you up? Was that her way of doing it? Hell, she could tell you that you intimidated every single person in this room, and you’d take it as the biggest compliment ever. To hear about your power from her? Practically an honor.

“Hey,” Bucky spoke up from behind you as he returned. “What’s goin’ on over here?”

“Just girl talk,” Natasha replied before heading off.

Bucky turned to you, confused. “What’s that about?”

You stared at her as she walked away, swaying her hips and heading for the man she mentioned earlier. “I’m not too sure,” you said slowly, mesmerized by her walk.

Bucky’s hand in yours made you turn up towards him, meeting his blue eyes. “Ready to get out of here?” He whispered lowly.

You bit your lip and nodded, setting your glass down and squeezing his hand in both of yours.

Bucky carried you from the front door to the bed; he placed you down on top of the mattress like you were made of glass. He kissed your lips like he was going off to war, but he tasted like he’d just returned.

His hands ran furiously over your back, eventually resting on the zipper and tugging downwards; your hands ran all over his chest, tugging his shirt open, no regard for the buttons. He started peeling your dress off your body as you leaned back on the bed, working on taking off your bra while he discarded the dress on the floor. He followed suit, discarding his clothes before returning to the bed, covering your body with his warm one. His flesh hand cupped your jaw, the other holding his balance on the bed. Your arms wrapped around his neck one hand holding the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you, deepening the kiss, while the other ran through his tangled hair. You interlocked your legs around his waist, pulling yourself upwards to grind on his hard cock.

He moaned into your mouth, grinding back into you, reveling in just the feeling of your wetness gliding against his cock. His hand left your face to grab your ass, giving it a firm squeeze before he pinned your hips to the mattress with his own, humping against you. You whispered against him, pleading: “Bucky, please,” you whispered against his lips.

His mouth skidded down your cheek and past your jawline to suck a sloppy kiss onto your neck. As his face was buried in your shoulder, making his way down to your breast, his hand found its way between your hips, stroking your soaked lips. You hummed and gripped his hair as his finger split the difference, prodding its way into your soaked entrance. As two other fingers joined in, curling inside of your pussy, he licked your nipple, biting the pebbled nub softly. “You’re so wet, baby. Love how you’re always so wet for me.”

“Only for you, James,” you whispered, blissed out, head falling back against the mattress as his thumb found your clit, rubbing small circles under the hood. You felt a jolt up your body, your pussy instinctively clenching against his fingers.

He let out a deep breath, kissing your breast before planting a wet kiss to your lips, fingers not faltering. “I love you, (Y/N),” he murmured against your lips.

You opened your eyes, meeting his staring down at you, glazed over with lust. “I love you, baby,” you breathed, tilting your head up to kiss him again.

He pulled away from you, fingers stilling, long forgotten in the moment. “No, baby – ” he stopped, staring down at you, pleading with you, please understand. “Only you.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. Tears burning the back of your eyes. You bit your lip, nodding, not trusting your words as a few tears fell from the sides of your eyes, rolling down your skin to the mattress. He kissed you feverishly, teeth chipping against each other’s, lips and tongues sloppily sliding over each other, sharing air.

He pulled his hand away from your thighs, not moving far to line up his dick to your now soaked and desperate pussy. Your breath hitched as he pushed the tip in; all the air Bucky held in his lungs suddenly escaped him. “Fuck, extra tight for me tonight, huh?” You moaned, trying to rock your hips against his, his bodyweight pinning you down. “Eager, baby,” he groaned from the back of his throat.

“Please, baby,” you begged, fisting the sheets, using all your energy to grind against him. “Please.”

Please.

Please.

He complied, snapping his hips down into yours, his big dick stretching your walls. You yelped out, your opening burning as it welcomed his length. His cock curved upwards, hitting deep inside you as he swiftly moved his hips back and forth, quick rhythm never erring. His hand fell to your lower stomach, as he pressed his hand firmly above your public bone. “Mmm, look, baby, I can feel my dick in you,” he whispered, reveling in the feeling as his dick bottomed out inside of you. He felt the tip through the soft flesh of your belly – boy, you felt it, too. Every time he pounded into you felt your head spin. You saw nothing but black, stars blinding your vision at every thrust.

You nearly snaked your hand down to your clit for your final release, but he pulled your hand away, pinning it to the mattress above your head. He sat up on his knees, grabbing your other hand and joining it with the other, holding them both down to the mattress under the grasp on his metal hand. As he returned to leaning over you, sliding his dick back in your pussy, his flesh hand returned to your clit, rubbing in fast circles. You screamed, thighs coming together, snapping tightly against his hips.

That wouldn’t stop him. You weren’t strong enough to hold him in place; he kept fucking you into the mattress, your body shaking wildly as your legs were tied around him. Your back arched off the bed as your pussy throbbed. “Yeah, baby, squeezing my dick with your tight little pussy, huh?” You screamed out and nodded your head wildly, clenching around his cock as the pressure on your clit built up. “Fuck, you’re so good to me – made for me.”

You pulled against his metal arm, body convulsing underneath him. He watched with anticipation, biting his own lip nearly bloody as he pushed you over the edge of your orgasm. You yelped out, gasping for air as your eyes squeezed tight. Your legs shook around him, fingers clawing at his metal plated hand. Bucky could come along just from watching you tremble mid orgasm. But, god, your tight pussy quiver around him surely helped. He fucked you harder, the last few strokes hard and fast. He came with a groan, spilling his hot seed into your soaked cunt.

He whispered curse words to himself as he fucked his dick soft, mixing your own juices together before falling on top of you, pressing his lips to your neck, littering hickeys all over.

As he felt your post orgasm breathing change, he picked his head up, kissing all the way up your neck and jaw until he could look fully down at you. “Hey, baby, no,” he cooed once he caught sight of your watery eyes. “Why are you crying?” He kissed away the tears running down your cheeks.

You smiled at him, pressing a soft, chaste kiss to his lips. “’M fine, Buck – I just,” you huffed, rolling your teary eyes at yourself, thinking it all suddenly stupid. “I’m sorry – ”

“’s nothing to be sorry for, baby,” he whispered against the shell of your ear.

Your fingers grazed through his hair again, scratching slightly at his scalp. He knew. He knew what you were talking about. He always did – he always understood everything you did or said. “I love you, James.”

“I love you, (Y/N),” he murmured with one final kiss. “Only you.”

[salandition]

maybe something about getting your mail at the same time?? like you're apartment/house neighbors with Leon and/or Raihan & at first it's just coincidence, but then they start waiting for you to get your mail so they can come talk to you?? & then eventually you both always wait until the same time to get the mail each day to talk to each other?? idk just something cutesy and slice of life-y, i love your writing!!

A/N: Decided to make this a mini-ficlet for both. The idea is a bit hard to diversify so hopefully I’ve done a good job making the scenario unique for both of them! I put it under the cut for 5 seconds before I had to edit it on my phone, and doing that erases the link cut (hooray for our shitty app! Hate it), so now there’s no longer a cut! Hope you all don’t mind the long post for now, I’ll try to edit it in the morning !!

Leon ☆

He rolls on the balls of his feet as he waits, hands in his pockets and digging deep into the cloth.

It’s a bit embarrassing to wait for you- even more embarrassing to admit it, even if it’s just in his head. It’s shameful to admit the times he’s fastly raised his head, raised his shoulders in anticipation only to drop them when he sees the person who entered the building wasn’t who he was waiting for- and to pull his hat down further on his head as the apartment tenant just trying to get their mail notices him lurking around the corner and gives him a strange look. Add that one to the pile of looks he’s gotten today from waiting around for you.

But surely- surely you will be coming soon. So all this awkward flustering and waiting around will end and be worth it for- what- a brief conversation? Something that might barely last five minutes if Leon insists on it?

He starts to chew on his lip and doubt this silly thing that he’s doing. It’s kind of creepy- definitely weird. If you come to get mail today on Tuesday, just like you do every week- just like Leon does- then surely you’ll just want to pick up your mail and leave. Maybe you don’t even have any this week! That’s also possible. So maybe waiting around is possibly very stupid and he should just head up to his apartment now-

Then the door opens again, and Leon looks up one last time. And of course it’s you- of course it is. His heart jumps.

...He’s not sure what to do now. Hm.

Right as he’s starting to doubt this idea once again, your eyes meet his. And you smile at him- happy to see him- making Leon bless Arceus as he smiles back. Maybe a little too eagerly, but oh well.

“Mail?” He asks lamely, and nearly curses himself out for such a dumb introduction, but you laugh anyway as you nod at him and head to your mailbox.

“How’d you know?” You tease lightly, opening your drawer and taking out the contents inside, tucking it under your arm. “It’s interesting how we check mail the same day. Why Tuesday for you?”

Leon hums, acting casual as he leans against the wall in a very cool way. “It’s the same day I do my laundry. You?”

You raise your eyebrows at his reply. “That’s a non-answer. First you’ll have to give me your reasoning for doing your laundry on Tuesday.”

“Ah, well that’s because it’s the same day I check my mail, of course.”

Your expression lights up as you bark out a laugh. “Alright, keep your secrets!” You snicker. “But I’m not telling you my reason, then.”

“Mm, you shouldn’t. It keeps you mysterious, and therefore alluring.”

“So I’m alluring to you?” Oops, perhaps he shouldn’t have said that. You look a bit smug now as Leon opens his mouth, fighting to find a different adjective, but none are coming to mind fast enough. You hum, “good to know that the great ex-Champion finds me alluring.”

He pouts. “Well now, you didn’t have to add the ex part.”

“I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. I’m a stickler for truths, as harsh as they may be,”

Leon straightens up his posture as he leans off the wall, taking in the new information about you and putting it in a little folder in his mind for later thought. “Good to know,” he says, and taps his own mail against his thigh. “I should be off now, but I appreciate the new information about my neighbor,” As he heads for the doors, you follow him out, and Leon tries not to skip at that.

“As do I. It’s always good to know I’ve got someone around that’s willing to give me a cup of sugar,” you smile, “or go for a late night skinny dip in the pool for pure adrenaline rush reasons, who knows,”

He spits, and you laugh at him.

“You shouldn’t tease like that!” Leon coughs, but he can’t help the laugh that escapes him either as he tries to rub the smile off his face, along with the blush that’s festering on his cheeks. “But you have my number. House number, that is. For sugar reasons only.”

“Well, that doesn’t exclude the skinny dipping then, because depending on your description of such events, it can be pretty sweet.”

“Stop!” Leon laughs and risks shoving you in a playful way, and thankfully you just giggle along and let him push you.

“Okay, I’m done, I promise,” you snort and slow your walk as a split comes in the sidewalk. Ah, yes, the dreadful split. Where Leon goes right and you go left, to your respective buildings. When you look up at him and smile again, Leon almost sighs- it’ll be a long week before he sees it again. “Unfortunately I have plenty of sugar at home, so I’ll most likely see you next Tuesday if fate allows it.”

“Yes, fate,” Leon agrees, and the two of you go your separate ways. Surely it was fate that had you both checking mail at the same time, Leon thinks... And he groans as he flusters at the thought, lowering his cap on his head again and letting the material rub harshly on his forehead. Of course it was fate, and not at all was it because Leon can’t stop thinking about you and how he waits for you every Tuesday on purpose. Definitely not.

Raihan ☆

The day you had moved into the house next to him was a day Raihan will remember- and usually he doesn’t remember such mundane, unimportant things- but you had left an impression that day. And you hate it, too, so that makes him remember it even more, grinning as he brings up the incident whenever he can.

It was a simple mistake, of course. And it was quite cute, as well, which Raihan also tells you, and it just makes you hit him on the arm, which is also very cute. You had moved in, several Corviknights out in your yard that carried your boxes. They hopped around in boredom, rolling around with each other and such as you unpacked, but otherwise not causing a disturbance of any sort. It was while you were packing that you had decided to introduce yourself to your neighbors- because you were definitely in need of a break from hauling everything around after a few hours. That’s what brought you to Raihan’s porch, which you had no idea was Raihan’s porch, and knocking three times on his door.

And that’s when Raihan had opened the door, surprising you not only with his mere presence but also because he was clad only in a towel that hung low around his lean hips. It was an image that had you at a loss for words-

“Holy hell-“

Well, at a loss for eloquent words, that is.

Raihan had raised his eyebrows at your statement, but otherwise said nothing- obviously waiting to see why you were on his property. And you, unfortunately, couldn’t even breathe, much less tell him that you were his new neighbor as you ogled at his wet and naked body.

“I’m. Next door. If you ever want me-“ no, that’s not right! “-need me.” That wasn’t better? “None of those things. You don’t- no- alright. I’ll be next door. I live there now. ...Farewell.”

And after that fucking mess, you quickly left, and you were quite positive in your decision to never speak or look at Raihan ever again. Even on the telly. But he had ruined it when sometime the next week, after you had finally gotten the post office to register your new address and stop sending all your mail to your poor old gran- you hopped over to your mailbox.

Only for Raihan to be there too. And boy, was he just staring at you, grinning and everything. You immediately froze when you saw him, and that just made him grin wider as he leaned on his mailbox.

“Pray tell, neighbor,” he said, “what’s your name? I want- no, I need to know, so I hope you’ll tell me.”

Never had your face gotten red so fast. Except maybe that one time- that you saw him half naked. Yeah. 

Since that awful, awful introduction- you were able to thankfully move past it and become good aquatintes of a sort with your neighbor Raihan. And he moved past it with you, but only to a certain extent. Because of course he brought it up every other time he saw you to tease you- but it’s becoming less frequent after you told him that the joke will lose it’s affect the more he uses it. So now he’s spread out the teasing quite a bit.

But whenever you go to get your mail, you see how he basically bursts out of his own home and skips down his steps to meet you there. He says he simply needs to get his own mail- which he does, and he’s always got loads of it (unsurprising), but you know it’s also because he’s just waiting for you to humiliate yourself again.

And eventually, you do just that.

You’re just trying to peacefully gather your mail again, and of course Raihan is there, chatting away before once again mentioning how you were so embarrassed by his body- and you finally snap. “What?” You ask him, abruptly. “Would you not be?”

“Not be what?” He asks, raising his eyebrows, and you gesture wildly with your arms.

“Embarrassed! Like, be honest- if I came down suddenly one day in a towel and I was wet and dripping and all that- I mean, that would be- kind of embarrassing... for you, probably?” You lose confidence the longer you talk, unfortunately, because you’re suddenly aware of what you’re saying.

Raihan’s eyebrows have successfully disappeared beneath his beanie as he stares wide eyed at you, and then he asks- “is that an offer?”

Because of course he asks that.

“Stop stalking me when I get mail!” You yell at him instead, face successfully red and hot- and Raihan explodes into a fit of laughter as he doubles over on his mailbox. “I mean it! You’re going to ruin me- I could testify to the police that it’s harassment!” Of course you don’t actually mean this, but you’ve had quite enough. You’re not sure how much more of a beating your poor heart and soul can take from this man.

Raihan just keeps laughing.

“For Arceus sake,” you curse under your breath and turn on your heel, heading back to your house in quick steps. You make it to the door when he finally calls out your name, and you consider ignoring him- but he pleads, even if it’s laced between giggles.

“Wait- wait! I mean it, you left this behind- come on!”

His voice gets closer, and when you look over your shoulder, he’s on the stairs of your porch with mirth in his eyes as he holds up a package. You purse your lips. “Come on now, take it and I’ll leave you alone.”

Quickly you swipe it out of his hands.

“For now.”

Of course. Shouldn’t have expected it’ll be so easy. “Goodbye, Raihan,” you tell him tiredly and he barely waves as he watches you disappear into your house. You’re already dreading the next time you get mail- maybe you’ll train your Pokemon to do it for you...

Pssh. Yeah, right.

[rosethornewrites]

Fic: frost on the frozen ground

Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén/Mèng Yáo | Jīn Guāngyáo

Characters: Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, Lan Huan | Lan Xichen, Lan Yuan | Lan Sizhui, Lan Qiren, Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Wen Qing, Fourth Uncle, Jin Zixun

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Modern AU, Corporate Espionage, Bad Uncle Lán Qǐrén, Anxiety, Confrontations, Family, References to Depression, Bunnies, Found Family, Podfic Welcome

Summary: Wei Ying and A-Zhan are still dealing with the fallout weeks after the public arrest of Meng Yao and Jin Guangshan cleared Wei Ying's name, when an uninvited visitor shows up. Second in the moonlight falls corporate spy AU series, inspired by @angstymdzsthoughts.

Notes: See end.

AO3 link

-----------

Wei Ying was exhausted. It wasn’t even a physical sort of exhaustion, but one brought on by the absolute circus the last few weeks had been, following the very public arrest of Lan Xichen’s fiancé for the exact corporate espionage Gusu Lan Tech had accused him of and ruined his life over five years ago. 

Trust Nie Huaisang to somehow convince the FBI to arrest Meng Yao during a major family dinner for the grooms that was well-attended by the media as a sort of social gala, and to also ensure they arrested Jin Guangshan at the same time. He was only the head of Jin Enterprises, so it’s not like it didn’t send that company’s stocks tanking immediately while also humiliating Gusu Lan Tech. 

Nie Huaisang did petty well. 

Wei Ying just wished the aftermath hadn’t meant reporters hounding him and A-Zhan almost constantly, though that wasn’t Huaisang’s fault. At least, that he knew of—his old friend hadn’t reached out, and Wei Ying didn’t know whether to expect him to. 

They’d had to start screening their calls and if they did go out, it was wearing disguises and usually separately. 

It had started when Jin Guangshan’s shitty nephew had attempted to ambush interview them while they were shopping for groceries with A-Yuan. 

Everyone knew he was a hack. Jin Zixun had majored in history at a university his uncle was on the board of (the only reason he was even admitted) and barely got his degree. He’d been resoundingly rejected by every reputable employer despite his uncle’s best efforts, and could only get a job at some hack blog site pretending to be news and to have journalistic integrity. He was largely known for ludicrous conspiracy theories, vehement misogyny, and, weirdly, white nationalist talking points, but his articles and livestreams apparently got enough advertising revenue to merit his continued employment. 

He had the nerve to imply Wei Ying had somehow framed Meng Yao and Jin Guangshan. 

On the bright side, the camera had been livestreaming, and A-Zhan had verbally eviscerated him and implied that he probably had a hand in the corporate espionage, that maybe the investigation should look into him. 

“I recall your name and the insulting things you said and wrote about Wei Ying. You claimed, without evidence, there was a connection with Compu-Jiang, and then they took a financial hit. Trying to take out your uncle’s competition?”

Jin Zixun’s face had turned interesting colors and he cut the camera, but the damage was done. They learned the next day he was canned from the pseudo-journalist farce and the FBI had declared him a “person of interest” and seized his electronics. 

The interest in that led to more media coverage looking at the Weis, rekindling interest in the false accusation and Wei Ying’s blacklisting from the industry. Uncle Four had banned reporters from the premises, and since he owned the building that meant they at least weren’t buzzing the apartment from the lobby or, worse, somehow getting in and knocking on their door, for the most part at least. Now they were simply waiting across the street and accosting them if they spotted them, something that most often happened if they were together, and less if they were separate. 

Wei Ying didn’t want to revisit the year or so following the blacklisting. Even with A-Zhan beside him, it had been like a montage of humiliation and pain. He hated that these reporters wanted to put all that on display again.

The Wens had been amazing, often bringing them groceries and cooked meals, but they couldn’t stay cooped up—they had a son, and he was fond of parks and libraries. Sometimes his aunts or uncles or Granny would take him out for them if there was a congregation of reporters, and that had at least ensured the parasites hadn’t caught on to A-Yuan’s existence connected to them yet. 

As a bright spot, A-Li had contacted him. With her father-in-law in prison for the corporate espionage Wei Ying had been framed for, her husband had consented to let him meet his nephew. She was excited to meet A-Yuan. They were just waiting for some of the furor to die down. 

Even though it was Saturday, Wei Ying was finishing a coding project while A-Zhan was taking A-Yuan to the library and then a different park than usual. He wished he could go with them, but it was better not to tempt fate. 

He was nearly finished sorting out a coding error when the bell for the apartment building buzzer rang. Sighing in irritation, he stalked to the door and pressed the button to respond, careful not to press the one that unlocked the door.

“No comment. Please leave the premises.”

“I am not the press,” a gravelly male voice responded.

Wei Ying blinked. He knew that voice, but he couldn’t place it.

“Name?”

“You know perfectly well who I am.”

It was the haughtiness of the tone that pinged his memory. How could he forget, being lectured by Lan Qiren on his ungrateful nature and ruining of his nephew when he was being fired?

Just the memory made him nauseous. As far as he knew, Lan Qiren hadn’t reached out to A-Zhan, though Lan Xichen had, apologizing that they would be dragged into this again.

Quickly, he pulled his phone from his pocket and fired a text message off to A-Zhan. 

Your uncle is here

“You’ll need to make an appointment,” he said blithely. “Have Lan Xichen set it up with A-Zhan. He has his number.”

His phone dinged as the uninvited visitor made outraged sounds that he very carefully refused to allow to register as words. Then the buzzer started up again, and he ignored it.

Not invited. Do not let him in.

In spite of the seriousness of the situation, Wei Ying had to smile over his husband’s use of proper punctuation and capitalization, ever proper even via text.

on it, he replied. will let you know when clear

The noise from the intercom/buzzer ceased, thankfully, and Wei Ying moved back toward the office, stepping over the barrier that kept Turmeric from getting to all the cords. As he did, he texted Wen Qing to let her know what had happened.

a-zhans uncle buzzed from lobby

told him to make appt

idk what he wants

He sat down with a sigh and stretched before trying to immerse himself back in the code. He’d just found his line of coding error when a knock on the door reverberated through the apartment. Before he could even contemplate getting up, his phone chimed, a text from Wen Qing.

Auntie 6 came to me

He followed her in

Uncle 4 and I are on it

Which meant, of course, that Lan Qiren had breached the building, likely not even registering that he was trespassing, or so privileged that he felt trespassing laws didn’t apply to him.

Fuck.

He could feel his anxiety rising, something he didn’t need. Now was not the time for a Xanax, no matter how much his heart was fluttering at the idea of having to deal with A-Zhan’s uncle.

lmk when i can escape, he sent back.

Then he texted A-Zhan.

breached perimeter

qing-jie & unc 4 to rescue

will come to u

where r u?

Wei Ying crept to the living room, trying to stay quiet as the intruder knocked again, more forcefully. He debated for a moment, fiddling with his phone nervously before slipping it in his pocket, then grabbed Turmeric’s carrier, leash, and harness. The bunny needed some outdoors time, and Wei Ying would probably be able to meet A-Zhan and A-Yuan at the park.

The knocking continued, and he was certain before long Lan Qiren would lose all sense of decorum and start yelling through the door. 

plz hurry, he texted Wen Qing.

He donned a hat A-Yuan had gifted him for Father’s Day, an adorable white bucket hat with bunnies and carrots on it, and a pair of big sunglasses. He was wearing torn jeans and a black t-shirt with a binary code motif Wen Ning had given him for Christmas—it read “fuck off,” but wasn’t too inappropriate given that only coders could read it. He was as decent as he was going to get.

Wei Ying opened Turmeric’s hutch and scooped him gently into the carrier, hushing him even though he was completely quiet and cooperative. He felt like an intruder in his own home, and it left a sour taste in his mouth.

Finally, he could hear voices outside the door—Uncle Four’s boisterous voice asking what he could do for “the gentleman,” Wen Qing mentioning trespassing, Lan Qiren’s haughtiness slowly sputtering out, growing distant as they led him away.

His phone dinged twice, A-Zhan texting the location of the park, and Wen Qing giving the all-clear. Wei Ying grabbed his shoes, keys, and wallet, Turmeric’s crate and his sundries, and slipped out of the apartment in socked feet, easing the door shut and locking it as quietly as he could.

He practically tiptoed down the side staircase, the one that didn’t lead to the lobby but straight outside, and slipped his shoes on in the vestibule before slipping outside into the sunshine, making sure the door shut behind him without anyone getting in.

The park, thankfully, was not too far away, and he didn’t see any reporters on this side of the building. Likely they had seen Lan Qiren enter and were all crowded on the side near the lobby hoping to see something good.

Fat chance.

Wei Ying booked it the first few blocks before he felt like he’d escaped and started to calm, but he didn’t really relax until he could see A-Zhan in the distance, looking in his direction, A-Yuan beside him sipping on a boxed apple juice. His husband folded him into a hug, and he could feel the tension ease from his body with a soft sigh.

“I brought Turmeric. He could use some outside time.”

The tiny smile he got from A-Zhan finished the job of easing the worst of his anxiety, and they sat with A-Yuan on the grass to bring Turmeric out of the carrier and belt him into his little harness.

His fingers fumbled on the buckles and he sighed in frustration. 

“Sit, A-Ying,” A-Zhan said. “Relax.”

There was a bit of worry in his eyes, and that told Wei Ying he must look frazzled. A-Zhan knew his anxieties, knew what Lan Qiren had said to him, something he’d opened up about long ago, when they’d learned to communicate and work as a team, and when Wei Ying was learning not to push him away. 

And so Wei Ying settled back and let him finish with Turmeric, focused on the sunshine and the breeze and the soft grass beneath him. His fingers itched to pull out his phone, though he’d received no notifications, and he resisted it, instead rubbing his hand along the surface of the grass, letting the individual strands tickle his palms.

Before long, their absolutely adorable second son was contentedly exploring the grass, and curious children were starting to gather. A-Zhan explained bunnies didn’t like loud noises and sudden movements, and told them if they had permission from their parents, they could approach one at a time to pet him. 

A-Yuan tumbled into Wei Ying’s lap, content to watch Turmeric from there, and he had no doubt his son had picked up on his anxiety. He was a bright boy. 

Eventually, the children wandered away, a calm bunny only so interesting, and A-Yuan was half-asleep on his lap. A-Zhan’s phone dinged, and he handed the leash to Wei Ying before fishing it out. A bit of texting and a few alerts later, his mouth was downturned. 

“A-Zhan?” he asked.

“I sent Xichen to retrieve Qiren, but he insists he must speak to me.”

Wei Ying fantasized briefly about Lan Qiren being led from the premises in handcuffs, yelling, but he knew that wouldn’t solve anything. It could well make things worse, so he wasn’t even able to enjoy the fantasy. 

“The board voted to remove xiongzhang,” he added. “Likely he wishes to insist I take over the company.”

He felt his chest clench at that. Pity toward Xichen, who had done what he could to keep Wei Ying out of prison even if only for A-Zhan’s sake, and the grief he was facing as his life fell apart around him. But more, there was fear that A-Zhan would take it, would leave him behind—not a rational fear given everything they had weathered together, but anxiety was cruel. 

“You can take it if you want it, A-Zhan,” he said after a minute. 

A-Zhan made a noncommittal noise. 

“I am texting Wen Qing to prepare a conference room so we need not open our home to him,” he replied after a moment. “I should hear him out.”

Wei Ying looked away, swallowing hard at the taste of bile. His vision was blurred, but he kept a handle on it, refused to cry again over this.

“I… I’ll stay with A-Yuan while you meet him.”

He startled when A-Zhan knelt in front of him and took his hands.

“We are together in this and all things. Granny will meet us and watch A-Yuan during the meeting. I need you there, A-Ying. I will say no.”

Wei Ying glanced up at him.

“He will hound us until I meet with him, but I will not go back to Gusu Lan Tech,” A-Zhan said, his voice insistent, worried. “My place is with you, at Dafan.”

“You’re sure you don’t want it?” he couldn’t help asking.

This was, after all, a chance for A-Zhan to reconcile with his family and further his career. But his husband’s expression turned stormy at the question.

“They will never admit to having wronged you, A-Ying. I cannot abide that.”

Wei Ying manages a weak smile. 

“They’ll never admit they wronged you, either.”

A-Zhan nodded, the corners of his lips taut with stress. 

“Wen Qing will sit in with us since this is now a Dafan Applications matter. Uncle Four, too.”

Wei Ying blinked at him blankly for a moment before he understood. Technically Gusu Lan Tech was trying to poach A-Zhan from Dafan Applications, which made it company business. Lan Qiren was trespassing on Uncle Four’s property, which made it his business. And it meant they’d have witnesses. His husband was clever, and so was Wen Qing. 

“A-Die, baba, okay?”

A-Yuan looked up at them solemnly. The poor child had been with them at the grocery store when Jin Zixun had ambushed them, had seen so much these past weeks that he didn’t understand. He deserved some explanation. 

“We are, baobei,” Wei Ying said firmly. “Bad things happened a few years ago. Someone made it look like a-die did something bad, and they just got caught.”

He could see the moment their son understood. 

“That’s why the mean man said it was your fault?”

Wei Ying nodded, and A-Yuan squirmed out of his lap to give him a giant hug. 

“Thank you. Now baba’s uncle wants to talk to us, so we need to go home. You’ll visit with popo while we find out what he wants, okay?”

A-Yuan bit his lip, looking more anxious than a child his age should.

“Baba’s uncle won’t be mean to you, will he?”

His heart broke at his son’s concern. It was clear he’d picked up on undertones they thought they’d kept away. A-Zhan wrapped A-Yuan in a hug. 

“Baba won’t let shufu be mean to a-die,” A-Zhan said seriously.

“And your gugu will be with us, so she won’t let him be mean to either of us,” Wei Ying added. 

A-Yuan brightened—Wen Qing had a reputation, one even her five-year-old nephew was aware of. He trusted her to protect his dads. 

“Okay,” A-Yuan said. “If you bring Turmeric with you, he’ll comfort you if he’s mean!”

Wei Ying smiled at that.

“That’s why we’re leaving Turmeric with you, so he can comfort you. I know you’re worried, but baba and I will be okay. We’ll come right home when we’re done and snuggle with you and Turmeric.”

Their son seemed to accept that, and A-Zhan deftly removed Turmeric’s harness and placed him in the carrier. He pulled their disguises from a bag. Wei Ying was delighted when A-Yuan put on his brown bunny bucket hat, and he reached out to arrange the ears once the boy had it on. A-Zhan was wearing his own bucket hat, green with frog eyes, also a Father’s Day gift from A-Yuan. 

Honesty, he hadn’t expected that fatherhood would make A-Zhan even sexier, but he wasn’t complaining. 

The walk home was quiet. Wei Ying dreaded reaching home and hated that he felt that way. The home he had made with A-Zhan and A-Yuan was precious to him, and it felt like a sacred space had been violated. 

As they drew nearer, they planned to separate, A-Zhan taking A-Yuan to one side staircase, and Wei Ying taking Turmeric to the other, the plan to meet at the apartment. 

Wei Ying was actually surprised when it went off without a hitch, and he opened the stairwell door to see A-Zhan unlocking the door, Granny already hugging A-Yuan. Just a few years ago she’d have picked him up, but he was a bit big for that now. 

She smiled at his approach, reaching up to pat him on the cheek. 

“Aiya, you look so stressed. Popo will make dinner,” she said. “Auntie Three is making baozi for the building, too.”

Several of the aunties loved cooking different things in excess, so every few weeks they would make a huge batch of something delicious for the whole building, since everyone in the building was family. Auntie Three’s baozi were a favorite of his; she remembered his love for spicy food and always accommodated that in his. 

“Extra spicy for A-Ying,” he chirped, though popo clucked softly in a way that let him know she saw through his attempt at cheer. 

She headed straight for the kitchen, where she would likely catalogue the fridge to decide what to cook. Whatever she made, it would be delicious; his mouth was almost watering just thinking about it. 

He focused on getting Turmeric settled in his hutch, and A-Zhan got A-Yuan situated with a coloring book and crayons. 

“I should change,” Wei Ying said, remembering his torn jeans and the shirt Lan Qiren might be able to decode. 

He’d probably think Wei Ying wore the shirt on purpose to send a message. Frankly, Wei Ying wouldn’t mind that interpretation, but he didn’t want to antagonize. 

“What you are wearing is fine,” A-Zhan said, catching his wrist. “He interrupted our day, and he can get us as we are.”

A-Zhan was still wearing the frog bucket hat, with apparently no intent on removing it. His light blue shirt, Wei Ying noticed for the first time, was the one with a print of a rabbit wearing glasses and a bow tie, with ‘daddy’ in script underneath. Wei Ying snagged his hat with the bunnies and carrots motif from where he’d placed it atop the bunny hutch and put it back on. They’d match, to a certain extent, present a united front. 

“Be good for popo,” A-Zhan directed A-Yuan, as though their son would ever be anything but good. 

The boy simply nodded and discarded his crayon to run over and hug them both. 

The first two floors of the building were Dafan Applications office space. Though the first floor also held a lovely coffee shop and several other stores open to the public, the core of the building was the headquarters. An elevator and staircase serviced the offices, accessible with employee IDs. Each office was accessible only by swiping employee IDs, and record was kept of who entered and when. 

Since the apartments were held entirely by family, it might have seemed paranoid, but Wei Ying was glad for the security the building had—after all, the lack of it at Gusu Lan Tech had led to him being framed for corporate espionage. Poorly, but it ultimately hadn’t mattered. 

He hadn’t understood why he’d been framed, only that he’d had to correct Su She’s subpar coding many times when he’d worked there, so it wasn’t very surprising that he’d fuck up installing the code to the point where it would be caught before it could do damage. Since he’d never been anything but pleasant to Su She, that he’d been targeted had surprised him. 

When he had mentioned his confusion to A-Zhan, about a week after the news broke, he learned that Su She had tried to tell A-Zhan that Wei Ying was a poor choice as a romantic partner, implying he would be better. 

“I told him he was not qualified to speak with me,” A-Zhan had recollected. 

It made a sick sort of sense—if Wei Ying was out of the way, fired or imprisoned, Su She might think he had a shot. And given that Lan Qiren had hated him even before he and A-Zhan started dating, the frame up job was sufficient.

A-Zhan took his hand and led him into the elevator, and he realized he must have blanked out because he hadn’t even heard it arrive. His husband was watching him in concern, and he hated how much this invasion by Lan Qiren was messing with him, but he absolutely wasn’t going to abandon A-Zhan to face him alone. 

“I’m okay,” Wei Ying said. “I just want to get it over with.”

Uncle Four was waiting for them by the elevators. He offered a smile.

“I’ll bring by a few bottles of my newest brew later,” he said in greeting.

“That bad, huh?” Wei Ying asked ruefully. 

“I don’t wish to speak ill of A-Zhan’s family,” Uncle Four said deferentially. 

‘But that man…’ was heavily implied. 

A-Zhan inclined his head. 

“He decided Wei Ying’s guilt on flimsy evidence,” his husband said, his tone dismissive. 

Wei Ying squeezed his hand—it was as close to disparaging as A-Zhan had ever come toward his uncle. More often, they simply pretended he didn’t exist, which prior to this had been fairly easy. When they had spoken of it, when he had finally told A-Zhan in one of his darker moments what Lan Qiren had said to him when running him out of Gusu Lan Tech with security, his husband had simply folded him in his arms and told him he was wrong, over and over again, and reiterated that he had chosen Wei Ying. 

A-Zhan was angry, he realized. Perhaps over Lan Qiren returning to their life with all of his customary arrogance, or perhaps in defense of his brother, who was being excised from the company. He remembered, early in their relationship, learning that both brothers had been told what to major in, prepped for what Lan Qiren thought their careers should look like at Gusu Lan, which was why A-Zhan hadn’t been able to pursue music as he had wished. It was why he had expected him to break up with him, as ordered. 

He wondered what Lan Xichen had given up, what dreams he had let go to serve his family. 

“Tomorrow,” he told Uncle Four. “I think we’ll need tonight for us.”

The older man offered a sympathetic smile and escorted them to the conference room. 

It was the ostentatious one they used for particularly obnoxious or status-obsessed clients, with handsomely-carved panels with the Dafan Applications logo and an imposing table that looked expensive but were actually the work of a family member with a woodworking hobby. It had two doors, one on either side of the long table, which was ideal—they wouldn’t have to walk past Lan Qiren to get in or out. 

When they entered, Wei Ying’s gaze was drawn to Lan Xichen first, seated at the side of the table. He looked… defeated was the first word to come to mind. He glanced at his husband, could see he too was looking at his brother, concerned lines at the corners of his eyes betraying his emotions. 

“Finally,” Lan Qiren commented, drawing their attention. “I don’t have all day.”

His gaze was, as usual, disapproving, and he completely disregarded the fact that he had been the one to crash their day, not the other way around.

“My husband told you to schedule an appointment,” A-Zhan said in lieu of greeting.

He tugged Wei Ying to the head of the table, where someone had thoughtfully placed two chairs. Qing-jie was his guess, letting them present as the team they were. She was on one side of the table beside the seats, and Uncle Four sat on the other, probably as owner of the building. Wen Ning was too faint-hearted to handle this, he knew, even though he was technically the head of Dafan Applications.

“An appointment, to see my own nephew?” Lan Qiren grated, glaring at Wei Ying like it was his fault.

“You told me five years ago that I was no nephew of yours,” A-Zhan said, his voice dispassionate.

Wei Ying knew how much that had hurt A-Zhan. Part of him wanted to tell Lan Qiren that, rail at him over every emotional scar he had inflicted on the both of them, but he also knew there was no point in it—he wouldn’t listen, and he knew well enough that it wouldn’t be cathartic. It was better to let A-Zhan get this over with and be here to support him.

“You were making a mistake!”

His continued glaring at Wei Ying made it obvious what “mistake” he was referring to, and he barely managed not to flinch. It was clear this conversation was not going to be pleasant. A-Zhan took his hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing gently. 

“As I recall, the evidence that he was not making a mistake has been all over the news,” Wen Qing drawled.

“What business is it of yours?” Lan Qiren demanded. “Why are you here?”

“As witnesses,” she replied. “And A-Zhan and A-Ying are family. We’re here for them.”

Warmth spread through Wei Ying’s chest at her pronouncement—he often referred to her as Qing-jie, but hadn’t known the sentiment was returned. 

“And I own the building in which you are currently trespassing,” Uncle Four added.

Where he was normally a jovial and friendly man, his expression was serious and bordering on unwelcoming. Apparently Lan Qiren had made quite the impression on him. 

Lan Qiren sniffed disdainfully, but finally focused on A-Zhan. 

“The board has decided Xichen’s… indiscretions make him unfit to head the company. You have been appointed in his place. You will, of course, be expected to take the Lan name again, as will the child you’ve adopted. I’ve taken the liberty of securing housing for you, and I suppose we can find a place in the company for your husband, on a provisionary basis, of course.”

Dead silence followed his pronouncement, and Wei Ying felt dizzy with the presumption of all of this—A-Zhan was being ordered back to Gusu Lan Tech as though this wasn’t the first they’d seen or heard from Lan Qiren in over five years, clearly expected to obey without question. 

“Provisionary?” A-Zhan murmured, his voice icy with what Wei Ying recognized as fury. 

He squeezed A-Zhan’s hand, silently asking that he not be angry on his behalf. After all, he expected nothing but this treatment from Lan Qiren, so he wasn’t surprised to receive it. 

“He’ll be expected to prove himself, of course.”

“He already has,” Wen Qing cut in. “He’s been an asset to Dafan Applications since the day we hired him, paramount to our success.”

Lan Qiren sniffed dismissively. 

“Yes, well, his previous stint of employment at Gusu Lan Tech left much to be desired.”

A-Zhan’s jaw clenched. Wei Ying’s stomach roiled, remembering the constant criticism he’d faced there, how ultimately he wondered why they’d even agreed to hire him.

“I will not subject my husband to further abuse at the hands of the company that attempted to ruin his career.”

To his surprise, Lan Qiren looked satisfied by that statement. 

“Then we’ll arrange for your move. You’ll be expected to dress more professionally in the future, as the representative of the company.”

He eyed A-Zhan’s hat and clothing with distaste.

Wei Ying stole a glance at Xichen, who looked haggard and drained and was barely listening to the conversation, and felt empathy for his situation. Xichen had always treated him kindly, until he went no-contact after A-Zhan’s resignation, something he was likely ordered to do. Even so, he also sought to warn them of what had happened, and had informed A-Zhan of Lan Qiren’s intentions. And he had stood fast against the board’s desire to have him prosecuted. 

And now the man he had been set to marry is in prison, having brought Nie Innovations to its knees and attempted the same with Gusu Lan Tech, and what happiness he’d been looking forward to was just so much smoke. 

“You misunderstand,” A-Zhan said. “I do not intend to relocate, or take on the Lan name, or chair Gusu Lan Tech. I will continue to work at Dafan and live in my apartment with my husband and our son. I will remain Wei Zhan.”

Lan Qiren looked shocked, almost as though he had been physically slapped, and then the anger returned. 

“You leave me no choice. It will be a simple matter to buy out Dafan,” he said. 

Wen Qing laughed at the threat. 

“Dafan Applications is a worker cooperative. You have no power.”

For the first time he’d known him, Lan Qiren seemed incapable of words. After all, it meant that he and A-Zhan were part owners of Dafan, as all employees were, something he would never offer at Gusu Lan. Wei Ying privately hoped he was having an internal fit over the socialism of worker cooperatives. 

A-Zhan, however, had plenty to say. 

“You disrupted our Saturday after five years of silence to demand I change my life to suit your whims,” A-Zhan said coldly. “You didn’t even have the grace to apologize to Wei Ying, whose life and career you tried to destroy.”

Lan Qiren’s expression turned stormy. 

“You chose this ill-bred miscreant over your family, and you expect me to apologize to him?”

“No,” A-Zhan said. “I chose the truth. I chose love. A-Ying is my family.”

“You,” Lan Qiren snarled, turning his attention to Wei Ying. “This rebellion is all your influence! A-Zhan was filial until you came along!”

Wei Ying stayed silent. His anxiety spiked but was soothed by A-Zhan’s hand in his, in the feeling of his fingers entwined. Lan Qiren could do nothing to them—he’d already tried, and they’d ultimately come out stronger. They’d built a life and found new family. 

There was so much he could say, but he knew better than to think Lan Qiren would listen; he was a convenient scapegoat, and nothing would convince him otherwise. 

“Have you nothing to say, you ingrate?” Lan Qiren demanded.

A-Zhan tensed, but Wei Ying squeezed his hand.

“I see no point in speaking to you,” he said honestly.

“You dare!”

Lan Qiren stood, quivering with rage.

“You broke our family as completely as you broke the Jiangs, and you have the gall to sit there smirking, enjoying the mess you’ve made!”

Mention of the Jiangs hurt—it had been weeks and only A-Li had reached out, but she had never broken contact to begin with. 

Wen Qing slapped the table and stood, startling them. 

“I’ve heard quite enough. You can’t bully your estranged nephew into uprooting the life he built after you alienated him, so you go after A-Ying again. You act the victim, but you drove A-Zhan away with your unmerited vitriol toward A-Ying.”

Uncle Four stood as well. He was a calm man, but Wei Ying could see him tremble—in anger or nervousness, he didn’t know.

“You are not welcome here, Lan Qiren. Leave or you will be removed.”

“And given that you attempted to poach two of our best employees and threatened our company, you can tell your board that Dafan Applications will never do business with Gusu Lan Tech,” Wen Qing added. 

Wei Ying knew her level of petty and wondered if their new apps would unexpectedly glitch on Gusu Lan products in the future. Probably not, since she was focused on user experience. 

Maybe he was the one feeling petty, but he doubted anyone who mattered would judge him for it. 

“Clearly attempting to reason with any of you is an exercise in futility,” Lan Qiren said.

It took far too much energy to suppress a nearly-hysterical giggle building in Wei Ying’s chest at his complete lack of self awareness. 

“Come, Xichen. We’re done here.”

A-Zhan bristled further, glancing at Wei Ying with a question in his eyes, and he nodded. Xichen deserved to know he still had family. 

“Xiongzhang may stay for dinner, if he wishes,” A-Zhan said. “Our son would love to meet his bobo.”

A tiny smile lit up Xichen’s features, and Wei Ying got the impression it was the first time he’d smiled since his fiancé’s arrest.

“I would be honored to,” he said softly. 

His voice was hoarse, as though he was no longer used to speaking, or was overcome with emotion. It could easily be both. 

“Thank you, didi.”

Lan Qiren scoffed, and Wen Qing pointed at the door, raising an eyebrow. When he stomped out, she and Uncle Four followed him to escort him from the premises, leaving the three of them alone.

“Were you offered another position in the company?” A-Zhan asked after a moment of uncomfortable silence. 

Xichen shook his head, the fleeting smile gone. 

“No. Uncle believes I need time to reflect on my mistakes.”

Wei Ying didn’t hold back a scoff, given that Lan Qiren had referred to him as A-Zhan’s mistake. 

“You didn’t make any mistakes. You had no way of knowing.”

The smile Xichen offers is wrong, bitter. 

“I should have done more. Instead of letting them scapegoat you, I should have insisted on a full investigation. Maybe we would have uncovered the truth and protected you. Maybe we could have prevented the damage to Nie Innovations and Mingjue’s health, too.”

He had forgotten that Xichen and Mingjue were friends somehow. Wei Ying wanted to tell him the guilt he carried was a burden that shouldn’t be his, but he also knew from struggling with his own that it was something Xichen would need to come to terms with himself. 

“You should reach out to him,” A-Zhan said, looking at Wei Ying like he knew what he was thinking. “I doubt he blames you, and perhaps he could use the help.”

Xichen looked torn on the idea. Wei Ying could almost see the thoughts running through his head—that he would be unwelcome, a burden on his friend, but that it was a way to do penance for the sins he believed he’d committed. 

“I’ll think about it,” he finally said.

Wei Ying walked around the table and patted his shoulder, gesturing to the other door, the one that led to the interior of the building. A-Zhan had offered an olive branch with the invitation, and this was his. 

“Come on. Popo is cooking, and Auntie Three made baozi for the whole building. And A-Yuan is waiting.”

The smile returned, a little stronger this time, and Wei Ying smiled back as Xichen levered out of his seat to follow them home. 

-------------

Jin Zixun’s background is maybe based on a very well-known “journalist” who just constantly looks confused and outraged. To narrow it down, John Oliver did a segment on him recently. Uh, and maybe slightly on two other conspiracy theorists who pretend at journalism, one of whom keeps getting sued.

Also, I am old enough to text in full sentences most of the time. I had some friends check over Wei Ying’s panic texts so hopefully they’re believable.

This was difficult to write because of the anxiety Wei Ying was feeling and the uncomfortable conversations.

Also, I forgot the Nie company name and had to check—I couldn’t remember if it was Nie Innovations or Nie Industries. Turns out I accidentally used both in the first fic in the series. Fixed it now.

I maybe spent too much time researching worker cooperatives and employee-owned companies. It’s not a major part of this fic, but I thought it was a cool detail to bring in.

The title is, again, from the Li Bai poem.

[babylon-cal]

Wildflower {c.h}

Pairing : Calum x Gender Neutral Reader

Requested : by @wildflower-tae : hiiii!! first of all i love your blog,i've followed you for a long time and i love your content. can i request like a scenario/imagine/one shot idk what's the difference haha,with calum based on their song 'wildflower' ? you can do whenever you want with it. hope u have a good day/night. love u,stay safe ♡

Warnings : Mentions of Non-Descriptive Sex

 Word Count : 1.7k

Wildflower (noun) a flower of an uncultivated variety or a flower growing freely without human intervention.

Nothing about how you two met was cliche. It wasn’t like those moments in cheesy HBO rom-coms where the two love interests would lock eyes with each other from across the room in a party, immediately knowing what to say and falling in love soon after. It wasn’t bumping into each other on the street, causing a clumsy exchange followed by soft glances and one of them asking for the other’s number. You and Calum had met naturally, on a random Saturday night. It wasn’t fate. It just happened. Maybe it was a coincidence.

You had snuck out your bedroom window, your feet landing on the grass below. Dressed in your large coat that was wrapped around your old t-shirt and fell to the mid-thigh of your jeans, you jogged across the lawn and out onto the street. The wind blew against your face and hair as you did so. You didn’t have a plan on where to go but you just let your legs carry you to wherever it wanted to, turning left into another street and past the corner shop that you always bought your ice cream from. You were walking now, your hands in the pocket of your coat, one of them fiddling with your pack of cigarettes, the cardboard slightly torn on the edges.

You approached the neighbourhood football field, the only source of light being a streetlight that stood a few metres away. The empty mass of green in the darkness was such a contrast to the usual bright and cheerful atmosphere of children running around after a football for hours, their giggles and yells floating into the air. The two goals that were on either end of the field had rusted posts, the white paint chipped in some places, exposing the reddish brown metal underneath. On the adjacent sides of the fields, were some empty wooden bleachers that looked unfamiliar since they were usually occupied by parents during the friendly football matches that the neighbourhood committee organised every month.

As you approached one of them, you noticed someone sitting on the top of the bleacher seats. He was wearing a dark coloured hoodie and sweatpants, with a beanie nestled neatly on his head. He had a cigarette between his fingers and he didn’t notice you to the left of him, swinging over the railing to land about 3 feet away from where he was.

“Got room for one more?,” His head turned to notice you, hands in your coat pocket, a small smile on your face. He blinked for a few seconds before speaking up.

“Sure, why not?” He took another hit of his cigarette as you sat next to him, a few inches of space between both your legs. You took out your pack and pulled out a tab. “Here, let me,” Calum said, offering to light it for you with his lighter. He was definitely more friendly that you would have thought him out to be, judging from how he looked at first glance. His thick eyebrows accompanied with the moderate amount of facial hair above his lip and across his jaw and chin made him come across as slightly intimidating, his voice being a contributing factor to that as well. You placed the cigarette between your lips as he lighted it for you, his eyes meeting yours momentarily. You used this to give him a cheeky, flirtatious look causing him to awkwardly look down at the flame, only to find a particular interest in the shape of your lips as an orange hue from the fire casted itself on them.

“I’m Calum, by the way,” his voice was deep but also soft at the same time, like the feeling you get across your arms when a warm blanket wraps around them when it’s raining outside. Tingles that lasted for a few seconds.

I hear you calling out my name, I love the sound

“Calum?” you repeated and took a puff. You hated how terrible it tasted - like a bunch of household chemicals, which was easy to say it might as well be, to be fair. The first time you smoked, you remembered it being so dry and it burned your throat but it calmed you down. Since then, it always felt like your lungs were wrapped in a warm blanket - like Calum’s voice did to you just a few seconds ago.

I love the taste

Only yourself and Calum knew how you ended up connected at the lips, the cigarettes dropped from your hands and falling through the crack between the rows and onto the grass below, burning themselves out. Your hands were wrapped around his neck, while he had one hand on your thigh as his other pressed against your back. You could taste the herbs and chemicals on his lips and was certain he could taste them on yours as well. However, you were too busy focusing on how it felt - surprisingly soft, not at all chapped, and the tiny hairs around them poked at your face. It tickled a little bit. His hand on your thigh radiated a heat that you had never found anywhere else.

And I can see it in your face, you’ve got a side you can’t explain

Kissing Calum felt like an escapade from the daily hustle of everyday life, being a victim of capitalism and forced social conformity. Conventions trying to label everybody and categorise them into boxes. Kissing Calum felt like a “fuck that” to all those things. It felt like eating chocolate cake at 3a.m. because no one can tell you not to or taking long drives across the empty streets at 7a.m. to watch the sunrise in a lookout because no one really takes the time to appreciate something like that anymore. Not like you would ever let this man you just met know this, regardless of whether he had his tongue in your mouth or not.

You always thought your mind to be like the universe - ever-expanding with all its multiple complex structures and forms, where no one really understands what they’re ALL for or how they got to be but it takes a long time for an outside body to discover and understand its functions, compositions and complexities. That was just how your brain was wired, you let it do its own thing - there was no need for intervention. 

Unlike you, kissing a random stranger they had just met was out of Calum’s nature. At least, since he turned 20. However, there was something about your energy and presence that made him feel impulsive, dare he say maybe even careless. All of his personal convictions and promises he made to himself seemed to shrink and hide themselves in the back of his mind when he let go of his inhibitions to impulsively press his lips to yours.

You’re telling me you wanna come over, you wanna be closer

You pulled apart from the passionate exchange, your lips distanced by only a few inches. The heavy breathing led to the smell of tobacco and tar overwhelmingly stimulating your senses causing slight discomfort to settle at the back of your throat. Calum’s hand had moved further up your thigh, his large hand now resting on the side of your ass and the warmth radiated through the material of your jeans.

“Let’s go back to your place,” you suggested and he fully agreed. Going back with a man you just met? Sounds like a wish for the most awful things you could think of but you took the risk anyway, especially when he gave your ass a gentle squeeze and kissed you again for a few seconds. He let out a low hum as he did so, the small transfer of vibrations from his throat drove you absolutely mad.

Cuz I know where tonight is going

The walk back to Calum’s house was spent with paced footsteps and your hand gently held in his. The air was colder now, and you felt it breeze through your hair. During this time Calum had learnt a few things about you, realising that you were quite the opposite to him. As the headlights of the black Subaru shone as it drove in the opposite direction of your walk, the conversation between the two of you had led Calum to ask you what your plan for the future was.

“I don’t know,” was all you replied, a small smile tugged at your lips. His face was drawn to confusion soon enough, his eyebrows furrowing as he glanced at you.

“You don’t know? How do you not know?” By this point you were at his front door. He searched for his keys and unlocked the door.

“Less talking,” you replied, closing the door behind you as you entered and pulling him in by the collar to connect your lips hastily. Soon enough, a trail of clothes were left leading up to his room with the night ending in heavy breaths and the creaking of the beds shrouded in secrecy within the four walls.

You’re the only one that makes me…, everytime we…,

Calum had found your carefree, liberated nature absolutely fascinating and the sex felt like something out of a dream. Intense, passionate and almost like a haze when it ended but it was the best each of you could have asked for. It happened again, and Calum knew that if he gave in, you would be up all night tangled with each other.

I’ll tell you what I like

He had asked you for your number as you put your clothes on at the foot of the bed. If it wasn’t for the bedside lamp that he had turned on, the room would be in pitch darkness. As you tied your shoelaces, you looked up to him when he asked the question, the covers now covering the lower half of his body. You blinked over the tattoos that were intricately spread out across his torso, noticing a MMXII under his right collarbone.

My wildflower

“Well, I usually don’t give my number out,” you said walking towards him. “because i just like meeting people or bumping into them,” you paused “but..” you leaned in closer to his face “maybe I’ll see you around the football field again,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek and proceeded to leave his house, leaving him wondering and desperate to see you again and as much as he wanted to be able to see you what he wanted, he figured by now that you’re a wildflower, growing freely without human intervention.