#and then i opened tumblr saw that comic and burst into tears.

[hundredblooms]

i think that last post crossing my dash was a sign from the universe to stick around. thank you universe <3

[yume-tsuki]

Four Knights of the Apocalypse ~special Bedivere~the Dragon of Camelot part1 I finally finished my comic synopsis for my oc Bedivere . Born as son of the demon King Zeldris and Queen Gelda his future lay far away in the Kingdom of Chaos... (very much long post; and it will be more parts because it's to much for tumblr )

1 Gelda walked through the hallway of the castle when she suddenly felt a harsh pain in her body. >>Calm down…everything will be fine…<< she double up,  >>Lady Gelda!<< a guard ran at her side. >>…Help…<< she could feel her mind blurring. >>I’ll call a doctor!<<he looked at her in shock, while blood flow over the ground. When Zeldris heard about his pregnant wife in labor pain he was scared as hell.  While hours had past he sit down on the wall near the room she was brought to. >>King Zeldris?<< the doctor walked to the crying king. >>Queen Gelda is out of danger, but she lost a lot of blood, she will probably take a while to recover…<< He paused for a moment, searching for words. >>She gave birth to a son, but it was to early, it’s only the seventh month.<< >>Don’t say he is..<< the doctor shook his head >>He is alive but weak. I wish for him to survive the night.<< he said. Finally Zeldris entered the room, Gelda opened her eyes >>Zel,<< she smiled and Zeldris couldn’t help cuddling her.  >>I was so afraid, I thought I would lose you again!<< >>My love, I’m not that weak, but you know what I am?<< she said with a weak voice. >>What is it? Tell me, I’ll do anything<< >>Come close<< she whispered. Zeldris was short to panic again, and Gelda had noticed that; could barely control herself not to laugh. >>I’m hungry!<< Zeldris looked at her in unbelievable >>Gelda! That’s not funny. I was scared; you could have died!<< >>I know. I’m sorry but you are so cute, you know!<< Zeldris looked away, feeling the heat on his cheeks. Now for the first time he saw that little cradle. >>Can you bring him? He is probably hungry too.<< Zeldris swallowed, remembering the words of the doctor before. But when he looked at that little boy sleeping in his bed he couldn’t help but feel endless joy. With shivering hand  he held his body and had bringing the boy to Gelda. >>He is so precious, I can’t wait to tell your brother and Elizabeth.<< Gelda took him and held him close. >>I don’t want them to know!<< >>What do you say Zel? It’s our family.<< >>The doctor said he is still to weak, I can’t watch my brothers eyes anymore if he would knew I had lost my child… I can’t… to anyone,…I’m sorry Gelda.<< he burst into tears till he felt the cold hand of his wife. >>It’s a wonder that we have this little boy, but  I can feel his will to live. But I’m fine if we wait till he is stronger. Our sweet little prince<< Finally Zeldris could smile again, >>Yes, let us wait a bit more before telling anyone about our luck.<<

2 One and a half year had past till Bedivere was strong enough, Zeldris and Gelda were at his side every moment they had time.  But then the Bahamut awoke! >>He was fine!<< Zeldris yelled in anger. >>He was strong enough…<< tears dropped from his cheeks. >>Why had this to happen?!<< >>Zeldris, my liege. Your son has a small fever,  I bet we will find a way. But for now, what would you say about a day just for you and your family? An hour at last. To get new strength to fight.<< After more and more urge Zeldris gave in. Together they went for a picnic at a forest near the castle. The time flew while they watched Bedivere enjoying the time with his parents.

3 It was only an hour till the boy yawned >>You tired sleepy head?<< His father giggled before he felt tired himself. >>What do you say about a little nap, only for a moment we could close our eyes<< After a slumber Bedivere awoke, but when he tried to wake up his parents nothing helped! They were to exhausted. Feeling bored the boy started to look around when he saw something what caught his eye. A strange long silver shining wall. He climbed it not knowing it was a demon as well. The demon was just strolling around when he saw the king and queen napping, not knowing that they had a son, he thought they were on a date and to give them some privacy he flew high in the air, not noticing the boy clinging under his scales. (sry that the demon looks like sushi XD it's this worm snake thing and this are his scales~~~; I also forgett it had 2 eyes on each side XP)

5 High motivated the demon flew over an ancient building; then the miasma rose and he took a sharp turn. Bedivere couldn’t hold anymore and fell. When he landed he found himself in a cave. Whining he searched for an exit. Meanwhile Zeldris and Gelda woke up, >>Where is he?<< Gelda looked around, also Zeldis stood up calling for their son. Then he found his  beanie, >>We have to find him quick!<<he yelled, >>I walk the way to the casltle maybe he went there.<<Gelda flew in the direction while Zeldris flew in the direction of that building.

6 While Bedivere walked around calling for his mommy and daddy there was someone who heard him cry.  >>Y’ angsty?<< a boy said to him before comforting the crying one. >>mommy…help…<< Bedivere whined. >>let look toge’r<< the boy wanted to pull Bedivere with him when a wind rose, sadly when Bedivere’s demon magic hadn’t saved him that moment, he would have be reunited with his family…. But so he was alone again, till he found an exit…   Outside he found himself in Britania , near Camelot. Soon he started to cry till a young woman appeared and took him in her arms. >> Who do we have here? Stop crying little one.<< >>A baby? Where are his parents?<<her husband looked around. But as long as they searched for the boys parents , they couldn’t find them here. Then the hour come when a knight appeared bringing them to Camelot. Not as knight, both were farmers;  the young pairs family lived ones in Camelot, if they hadn’t been at her parents place they would have been death in the war years ago. Now they were unable to have own children and so they took Bedivere in as their own son.

7 Time goes by and Bedivere grew up to a strong young boy, >>One day I will be a great holy knight and protecting Camelot!<< >>Haha! Well said my son.<< His father and mother were proud of him, every single moment. He helpfully, strong in mind and body. One day he were on the fields with his father, then a wind took his fathers hat; letting him flew over the  grass, >>I’ll catch it!<< Bedivere run quick, >> Stop it son! The cliff is near bye!<< The highlands, were they lived were far away from Arthur’s palace. The house stood near a cliff, and normally the boy wasn’t so hasty but he thought he could manage. >>Bedivere Watch out!<< his father could only watch while he saw a wind carrying his son over the cliff. Bevidere saw the world getting faster, >>Help!<< He cried, then the ground came close suddenly  his eyes turned bright black before he flew high, back to his parents were he collapsed. >>Papa what happened?<< His parents held him close looking if he was injured. >>Son, we have to tell you something.<< his father said in tears while holding him close. They told him about his past, that they found him only with a hair band and a necklace with his name on it; >>But we never imagined that you could be a demons child. But it’s ok, we still love you.<< >>It’s ok, it’s also a shook but I’m fine, I guess.<< A few days had past were Bedivere could barely concentrate on his daily routines. >>my boy you still thinking about youself being a demon, right?<< His mother let him sit next to him on a bench outside the house. >>It’s not that…I want to be a knight but I am afraid King Arthur will now…. And maybe he will you ..too.<< letting out his thoughts made him cry out loud. >>Oh sweety come close.<< his mother rocked him gently.  >>Then, we will go to him and ask him ourself! << his father appeared >>And when he wants to do you any harm, believe me I will do anything to keep you safe!<< ... #bedivere 8gota or #eigth guards of the abyss for the rest ;)

[ynscrazylife]

Hi i have to request if you will you don't have to do them but i was wondering if you could do a part two too the lene luthor one i wasn't enough that by the time she realize her mistake and that it was just a passing phase for her and kara the Reader has already moved on and wants nothing to do with her or kara or the rest of the superfriends and maybe her new partner can be kate kane?

For the Kara one all a lie kara tries to get back with the reader when she finds out mon el is about to be married with imran is that her name i forget but the reader has already left the deo and wants nothing to do with her and maybe readers new partner can be a villain

I Wasn’t Enough (2) | l.l angst & k.k fluff fic

Summary: After Y/N leaves Lena and Lena starts dating Kara, Kate Kane saves Y/N in more ways than just one. (I Wasn’t Enough can be found here)

Authors Note: Thanks for requesting! I did Part 2 of All A Lie here.

Request to be on a Taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

DCEU Masterlist | Main Masterlist

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

header c/ @/artpoetryedits

Image ID: Five panels of Kate Kane (Batwoman) from the DC comics themed in red, black, and white. End ID.

It had officially been a week since Y/N and Lena had broken up and Y/N had left the DEO. An anger had been bubbling up inside her that she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to contain before it burst at Kara and her friends for so easily moving on from the pain Lena had caused her. No one cared that they had been in a committed relationship. No one cared that Lena had gone to Kara not a day ever she and Y/N had broken up. No one cared about her. 

Except for J’onn. 

He was her saving grace, as he promised to lend her name to a few of his friends for work, and Y/N couldn’t be more grateful, especially as she had left her position at the DEO so suddenly and without warning anyone.

The woman had just returned to her home after a long day of failed job hunting, because even though she had J’onn’s help, it was better to be safe than sorry. 

She locked her door, took of her coat, and promptly flopped on the couch, her limbs hungry from rest with their endless aching. She complied, letting her what-now-felt heavy eyelids flutter close.

The ringing of her phone felt 10x louder in her sleepy clouded haze, as she was almost asleep when her eyes flew open, wide, and she nearly tumbled off the couch. 

Grumbling, she pulled her phone out go her pocket and saw that it was an unknown number. Y/N had nothing better to do so - she answered. 

“Hello?” 

“Can I speak to Y/N Y/L/N?” 

“This is she . . . Who are you?” 

“I’m Batwoman. J’onn recommended you for our Crisis team and if you’d like, we want to bring you to our headquarters - paid by us, of course - and test and see if we should recruit you.” 

Y/N could of sworn she was dreaming, and had to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t. It took a couple moments for this all to process in her head . . .

“Uhh, you still there?” 

She suddenly realized she hadn’t answered for a bit and scrambled to compose her thoughts. “Yes, sorry! Just digesting everything . . . it’s a great opportunity, thank you so much and . . . yeah, I think I’d like that,” she said, clearing her throat. 

The warmth of Batwoman’s chuckle instantly calmed Y/N’s frenzied-state like a spell. “Awesome, I’ll text you more details soon,” the superhero said. 

After ending the phone call, Y/N laid back on the couch, jaw open and an awed, dazed look in her eyes. “Wow,” she whispered, hardly believing it. 

Little did she know that she would get accepted into the team and would have the greatest time ever - working with the team, gaining new friends, and the best one of all would be falling for and dating Batwoman herself, Kate Kane.

. . . . . . . . .

A couple months later and the couple was happily sitting at Y/N’s apartment, having a date night (which mainly consisted of watching cheesy and classic movies, eating chocolate, and gossiping about their teammates).

Kate had just started ticking Y/N (the former trying and struggling to get away from her strong grip), laugher bouncing off the walls.

“This is too adorable,” Kate commented with a grin, enjoying her girlfriend’s smile and giggles.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “NnnnnOoOhHOO,” she got out through her laughter, attempting to combat Kate’s fingers as she dug them under her armpits, making her squeal.

Knock knock knock!

“Saved by the bell,” Kate remarked with a smirk, leaning back.

Y/N just smiled, glad that the tickling had ceased for the time being but also wondering who was at the door. She climbed off the couch and walked over, first checking through the peephole.

She had to do a double take when she saw who it was. Turning back to Kate, Y/N said, “It’s Lena.”

Kate furrowed her eyebrows in confusion but nodded, encouraging her to open it.

“Hey, Y/N. I’m sorry to do this, I just . . . My feelings for Kara were so stupid. It was just a passing thing, a crush, and . . . God, I miss you so much. Would you consider, uh, taking me back?” Lena rushed out as soon as Y/N opened the door.

Whatever she thought her ex-girlfriend was going to say, it wasn’t this. Y/N stood there for a couple moments, letting the words weave itself throughout her mind.

“Um, I’m sorry Lena, but . . . no,” she said, unsure of how else to voice it.

Lena blinked, shocked. “What?” She asked, obviously not expecting this.

Y/N shifted the weight from one foot to the other, fingers tapping against the door quietly. “I’ve moved on. I have a girlfriend,” she clarified, opening the door to show Kate on the couch, who awkwardly waved.

Lena’s mouth dropped, tears in her eyes. “I... I didn’t expect you to-”

“Move on?” Y/N cut in, taking a breath. Her grip on the door got tighter. Shit, she knew she was past Lena, but the hurt was still there.

Silence filled the air, Lena not knowing what to say and Y/N looking at her intensely. Finally, Lena huffed and looked at her, before spinning around on her heels and walking out. Y/N sighed, closing the door, but Kate snuck up behind her and was there to tickle and hug and cuddle the pain away. 

Permanent Taglist: @natasharomanoffismywife @hehehehannahthings @paulawand @blackbat2020 @cerberus-spectre @marrymemcgrath

DCEU Taglist: @stephanieromanoff @basiclesbianbitch @extraordinary-fangrl @hi-i-1 @mmmmokdok @harrypottercumslut

[hermionetickledthedragon]

Fan Fiction Recommendations Part V

The 5th and last part of FicRec series sadly.. Here are the 9th and 10th categories: 

Sad Fanfics

•Fanfics to cry you heart out to

1~Gradually by Lucystrn ~Mature ~Summary: "That's the first time i saw him again. The last is right now. But I am too weak and drunk to even attempt to shove the covers off his bed, stand and go away. Weak emotionally I mean, because I know that I should be running away from this thing." ~Site and Words: Fanfictionnet/ 5 Chapters, and  6,996 Words. ~Note/tw: Post-war, Hurt, comfort, romance, dark, emotionally rough.

2~Bitter sweet by provocative envy ~Mature ~Summary: When I finally came, it felt as if I had been flayed open, spine exposed, a cachet of fireworks set off in half-second increments along my vertebrae as he murmured my name so reverently I could not help but think that there must be some magic to it, to me, to him. ~Site and Words: Fanfictionnet/ 3 Chapters, and 5,746 Words ~Note/tw: Post-war, Complete.

3~Demolition Lovers by empathapathique ~Mature ~Summary: Words didn’t mean anything. Only a man who was absolutely sure of what he wanted—or was far too comfortable where he was—could tell a woman that she was the only woman he’d ever love then run off to bed another. ~Site and Words: LiveJournal, Fanfictionnet, AO3/ 3 Chapters, and 24,197 Words. ~Note/tw: Post-war, smut, angst, drama, Complete.

4~Mimi's Black Rose by xxSammySabotagexx ~Teenage ~Summary: Hermione sat beneath her tree, eyes pointed towards the sky. Tears were running down her face, as she slowly whispered, "I'm going to die." ~Site and words: Fanfiction.net, 18 chapters, 51k words ~Note/tw: Major Character Death, one of the saddest fic EVER.

5~Graveyard Valentine by Bexchan ~Teenage ~Summary: Hermione thought she was the only person in the world who would spend Valentine’s Day in a Graveyard, but she was wrong. He’s there. Every single year, with his gloves, roses, and answers. ~Site and words: Fanfiction.net, Ao3, 1 Chapter, 9k words ~Note/tw: Sad, sweet oneshot

6~Numbness by Slythadri ~Mature ~Summary: After the war, they feel numb. Maybe the way back to normalcy is through the craziness. ~Site and words: fanfiction.net, 1 chapter, 4k words ~Note/tw: Not very sad, hurt/comfort, hopeful one-shot

Unique Fanfics

•For all the non-cliche fanfiction lovers

1~Of Flavoured Names and Coloured Sounds by Pink Panda (Ejacyeolation) on Ao3 and Lance Corporal Chanyeol on ff.net ~Mature ~Summary: "He doesn’t question it at first, the fact that sounds have colours and words have flavours. He grows up with it, grows up seeing powerful ruptures of colour when his mother plays the piano and softer, translucent bursts when the people around him speak. His father’s voice fills his vision with sombre oranges and lilacs while his mother’s is a pleasant mix of delicate greens, blues, and greys. The word father tastes like wet wood and the word mother tastes like the pumpkin juice the house-elves frequently serve him." ~Site and words: Fanfiction.net, Ao3, 2 Chapters, 10k words ~Note/tw: Draco has synaesthesia, one of the most unique oneshots, slight smut

2~Procuring Hermione Granger by Curly Kay ~Mature ~Summary: When an old acquaintance offers Hermione 20,000 galleons for a single strand of her hair, she goes in search of the mysterious buyer and finds herself unwittingly portkeyed into the middle of his flat. Dramione twoshot. ~Site and words: fanfiction.net, 2 chapters, 12k words ~Note/tw: smut with amazing plot

3~Classroom 204 by mimifreed ~Mature ~Summary: Hermione and Draco find themselves locked together in a dusty old classroom while a strange virus sweeps through the Wizarding community. They must learn to make the most out of their time and surroundings, and maybe address a few elephants in the room while they're at it. (8th year) ~Site and words: Fanfiction.net, 1 chapter, 15k words ~Note/tw: Quarantined during the coronavirus trope, avoidable smut, beautifully written oneshot

4~Between the Devil and Draco Malfoy by Queen of Smoke and Mirrors ~Mature ~Summary: Seventeen is a dangerous age. Hermione Granger, arrogant and precocious and bored of her mundane life, thinks she can handle a deal with the devil. But Draco Malfoy - the devil's own son - plans on dragging her down to Hell with him. ~Site and Words: Fanfictionnet/ 13 Chapters, and 38,410 Words. ~Note/tw: Dramione Devil au, Dark, Drama, anti-order, Dark Hermione, smut, OOC Hermione, complete.

5~The Commoner's Guide to Bedding a Royal by olivieblake ~Mature ~Summary: Objectively speaking, Hermione Granger knows Britain has a monarchy, just as she knows Prince Draco (the grandson of the King of England) is probably off somewhere living his royal life in total unrelation to hers. Seeing as she isn't delusional, she doesn't really expect to be his friend. She doesn't expect anything that comes after, either. ~Site and Words: Fanfictionnet, AO3/ 45 Chapters, and 527,574 Words. ~Note/tw: Dramione modern Royalty au, Multiple Pairings, Humor, Complete.

6~Modern Romances by olivieblake ~Mature ~Summary: Witch Weekly's 'Modern Romance' series asks anonymous witches and wizards to record a week in their sex lives—with comic, tragic, provocative, and patently revealing results. Each week, a new episode unfolds in the lives of the Wizarding World's elite. ~Site and Words: Fanfictionnet, AO3/ 19 Chapters, and 293,493 Words ~Note/tw: Multiple pairings, post-war, EWE, complete, fluff, angst, smut, humor, romance, drama.

So here’s the last of it. We enjoyed doing the fic Recs, maybe we’ll do it again.

Shout out to all the amazing authors who took their precious time in writing these gems, y’all real talented.

P.S. If you all have trouble finding the links DM us either on tumblr or instagram

Aight Imma head out now.

[freddiesaysalright]

Peace Like A River Part 7

A Gwilym Lee x Reader Story

Summary: Reader is a stand up comic with a pretty dark past. She has a three new lights in her life: her daughter, Violet; her anonymous correspondent, Dear Friend; and Gwilym Lee.

Word Count: 3.8K

Tag List: @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @bensrhapsody, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession, @minigranger, @simmisblog, @assembledherethevolunteers, @lookuptotheskiesandsee, @readinghorn, @riddikuluslypotter, @doingalrightt, @misslolasworld, @lemurian-starship, @ravenedges-lies, @painkiller80, @imgonnabeyourslave, @crazyweirdocalledfriday, @ixchel-9275, @sincerelygmg, @lv-7867 If you’d like to be added, let me know! Also, I’m sorry tumblr is stupid and doesn’t tag everyone properly, I have no idea how to fix it :(

A/N: More drama loves! Also some serious pining! Boy do I love a slow burn and mutual pining! Yep yep yep!

Part I  Part II  Part III Part IV  Part V  Part VI

Part 7 here we go!!!

“I’m on my way,” Gwilym said, and hung up.

You let your phone drop to the floor. You sank down against the wall, pulling your knees into your chest, and tried not to cry too loudly so you wouldn’t wake Violet. You wanted to scream. To wail at the top of your lungs. Collapse into yourself. But you couldn’t. You choked out another sob and rocked on the hard tile. 

Violet awoke for the second time that night. She heard a moan from the bathroom. She turned over and saw you were not next to her and she panicked. Throwing the covers off, she slid from the bed and padded over to the bathroom. Her heart hurt to hear you so sad. Just when she opened her mouth to call out to you, there was a sharp knock on the door. She gasped, startled, and stared at it.

“Y/N!” called Gwilym’s voice.

“Mister Gwilym!” Violet returned, relieved.

“Violet!” he cried. “Violet, sweetheart, can you open the door for me?”

She hurried over as fast as he little legs would carry her. Standing on her tiptoes, she reached up to the doorknob and pulled it. With a small grunt, she tugged it open. It was heavy, so Gwilym got it the rest of the way. When he was inside she reached her arms up toward him, so he scooped her up.

“Where’s Mummy?” he asked gently, holding her close.

“Bathroom,” she told him. “I think she’s crying.”

You released another sob, causing both of them to look at the bathroom door. He carried her back over and he knocked on it.

“Y/N?” he said.

Your head snapped to the door when you heard Gwilym’s voice. 

“C-come in,” you told him shakily.

He turned the knob and he stepped inside. You hid your face in your knees because you hated to cry in front of  your daughter. She was clutching Gwil’s shirt like her life depended on it, but looking at you like she might burst into tears as well.

Gwilym knelt down beside you. You felt his hand on your shoulder.

“What happened, love?” he asked.

“Stacy…” you began. “Her boyfriend is Henry.”

“Your Henry?” he gasped.

You nodded. Fresh tears spilled out and you tried to wipe them away quickly, to no avail. You finally looked over at your family and saw that Gwilym’s eyes were wide, horrified. Violet was confused, and looking between you and Gwilym and waiting for an explanation.

“Who’s Henry?” she asked.

“A bad man,” you said, and left it that.

You were shivering. Gwilym realized that in order for you to give him more information, Violet couldn’t be in the room. He stood up and started carrying her out. She cried in protest.

“Where are you going?” she wondered.

“You’re going to bed, love,” he told her.

“No!” she protested. “What about Mommy?”

“I’ll look after her,” he assured her, placing her on the bed now. “But she and I need to talk. It’s not something you need to hear just yet, okay?”

She must have been more tired than she thought because she didn’t fight him as he tucked the covers around her shoulders. She yawned.

“Go to sleep, little one,” he said gently.

“You’ll take care of Mommy?” she asked.

“I’ll always take care of her,” he said.

Her little eyes closed slowly. “Thank you.”

“Sleep now,” he whispered, leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead. 

He watched her a moment until he was certain she was out. Then he made his way back to the bathroom, closing the door softly behind him, and sitting next to you on the floor.

“Violet’s asleep,” he said. “Tell me what happened.”

You explained everything. How you found out, what Stacy told you, and that you’d fired her. He listened carefully, taking in your every word. His expression was difficult to read. He was clearly trying to get the whole story before he made a decision on how to react. 

When you finished, he just pulled you into his arms. Your head fell against his chest. Nothing needed to be said. You knew how wrong it all was. You knew he hated this for you. You knew he was there if you needed to get anything else out. All he could do now was hold you and sit with you. Be your rock so you could fall apart a little.

You looked at his watch. It was five thirty. A wave of exhaustion hit you and you closed your eyes as you rested against Gwilym.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I shouldn’t have called you at this hour.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he replied. “You can call me whenever you need me.”

“That’s...very sweet,” you said. “But I don’t want to be a burden on you.”

“Hey, if it were me, you’d do the same thing,” he returned. “That’s how friendship works.”

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“You tired?” he asked.

“Aren’t you?”

“Completely wiped,” he said, smiling at you. “Want me to take you to bed?”

You nodded, trying to ignore the double meaning of the words. What an absurd time to get aroused. But, Gwilym’s arms were your comfort. That was what you craved most.

He lifted you off the floor and carried you to the bed. He lay you carefully down next to Violet. He started to go, but you grabbed his hand.

“Wait, stay,” you said, pleading. “Please stay.”

He frowned and you remembered Dear Friend. You couldn’t worry about that right now. You needed him too badly. Maybe it was selfish, but there was no way you could relax enough to sleep without him.

“Please,” you repeated. 

Gwilym looked hard at you, his eyes focused, yet conflicted. He wanted to climb in beside you and hold you until morning. The only problem was that he was in love with someone else. Although, he no longer felt that in his heart. This moment made it clear. His heart was with you. With a sigh, he kicked off his shoes and curled up behind you.

“Thank you,” you sighed, relaxing into him.

He snaked his arm around your waist and pulled you closer. He was warm. Like a home.

Together, you slept.

At a more reasonable hour, you woke again. Gwilym and Violet were still sleeping, but your treacherous brain had made you dream about Henry. You’d frequently had nightmares right after you left him, but after a while they stopped. This was the first one you’d had since before you even met Gwilym.

Still reeling, you snuggled closer to him. His arm around you was like a guarded tower - safe and secure. He shifted when you did. It was like you couldn’t get close enough to each other. You both needed more of the other’s touch. 

You looked at your daughter, who was now lying spread eagle across half the bed. For  such a small person, she seemed to be taking up a lot of space. You almost laughed. Her hair was mussed around her head, and her legs were tangled in the sheets. You finally smiled as you looked at her.

Gwilym stirred awake beside you. Seeing you in the morning light made his heart skip a beat. How he felt waking up with you in his arms sort of alarmed him. It seemed his fall for you was more like an abrupt plummet. The only thing holding him back was a thin string, his connection to Dear Friend.

He cleared his throat and you turned over to look at him. Your smile grew as you met his eyes. You could get used to waking up to those eyes. They turned the sharp pain of the night into a dull ache. 

“Morning,” he said lowly.

“Morning,” you returned.

“Is Violet still asleep?” he asked.

You nodded. He cupped your face in his hand. 

“And how are you?”

“I’m okay,” you said. “Much better now. Obviously, I’ve got some things I need to take care of, but I think I can do it.”

“You can do anything,” he replied.

Once again, you thought he might kiss you. Lying in bed together with a golden morning light seeping through the curtains made you feel like kissing him was the only appropriate thing to do. Perhaps the time had come to tell him you were Dear Friend. As you gazed at him, you considered it, but decided against it. You didn’t think he would believe you just now. And you didn’t think you could handle it if he rejected you or got angry with you.

Suddenly, your stomach growled. You giggled together and he stroked your cheek with his thumb.

“You want to get some breakfast?” he asked.

“Definitely,” you answered.

“Let me just have a shower,” he said. “Is that alright?”

“Of course, Gwil.”

He got out of the bed and opened his mouth to ask you to join him, but caught himself. Shaking his head, he disappeared into the bathroom.

Your brow furrowed as you watched him, wondering what he stopped himself from saying. Sighing, you stretched out and rolled closer to Violet. She opened one eye to look at you.

“Mommy, are you still sad?” she asked.

“Not so much now, baby,” you assured her. “It’s hard to be sad with Gwilym around.”

“Where did he go?” she wondered.

“He’s just taking a shower,” you told her. “Then we’re gonna go have breakfast. How does that sound?”

“Can I have a waffle?” she asked.

“You can have anything you want!” you said.

“Yaaay!” she cried.

You laughed, kissed her cheek, and then got out of bed. You went to the desk to start an email to your manager that you would need a new assistant soon. Tour was almost over, but you knew you couldn’t do everything Stacy did on your own. You had just sent the email when there was a hesitant knock on the door. You had a feeling you knew who it was. You hoped you were wrong.

You got up, wrapped your robe tighter around yourself and went to the door. You looked out the peephole and for the first time in your life, you hated being right. It was Stacy. Her eyes were red and puffy and she looked tired. As if she hadn’t slept at all. Groaning, you opened the door.

“What do you want?” you snapped.

“Just to talk for a bit,” she replied. “Can I come in?”

“Fine,” you sighed. 

You didn’t bother holding the door open for her. She caught it with her foot and followed you in where you resumed your seat at your desk. Violet said a bright hello to Stacy, who waved at her kindly.

“How are you, Violet?” she asked.

Violet started to answer, but you cut her off.

“Do not speak to my daughter,” you said stonily. “What do you want?”

“To give you this,” she said, pulling a new Dear Friend letter out of her bag. 

She handed it to you and you snatched it away before putting it to the side.

“Anything else?”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” she said.

“I don’t wanna hear it,” you replied, your voice like ice.

“Still, I want you to know,” she went on. “I think...I think you should reconsider firing me.”

Your eyes flashed as you looked at her. “What?”

“I’m a great assistant,” she said, though sounding more nervous than before.

It hit you now that she was afraid of you. That stung. You never wanted someone to be afraid of you because you never wanted anyone to go through what you went through with Henry. It was why this whole situation was fucked up.

“You realize that I can’t trust you at all,” you said, easing up on the venomous tone. “You have betrayed me in the worst possible way.”

“Y/N, he really has changed,” she said, and you rolled your eyes in spite of yourself. “He’s not the man you knew. I mean, you haven’t spoken in years, how do you know he’s not a better person?”

“I know because I know him,” you returned. “I knew him from the time we were teenagers, and he never changed. It’s not a coincidence that he found you.”

“But -”

“So you have no intention of leaving him?” you asked, just to clarify. “You think I’m just wrong about why he chose you?”

“I - I do,” she said. “I think he loves me.”

“That’s unfortunate for you,” you said. “If it’s true that he does...that’s even worse.”

“Please,” she said.

“No,” you replied. “I can’t have anyone associated with Henry near me or Violet. I’ve already contacted management about replacing you.”

She hung her head. “Oh. Oh, I see.”

You were feeling guilty about one of your actions from your confrontation. 

“I’m sorry I threw your phone,” you said. “Was there any damage?”

“The screen is cracked,” she told you.

“Contact my manager, and we’ll see that it’s repaired,” you said. “Is there anything else? Don’t tell me you’re hoping for a reference.”

“No, I wasn’t,” she said. “That’s all. I just...I wish things would have been different.” 

“I do too,” you returned honestly. 

A beat passed.

“Who’s in the shower?” she wondered.

“Gwilym,” you answered.

“Oh! Did you two…?”

“Oh, I am not answering that,” you replied. “Just go.”

“Right, sorry,” she said. “I’ll go.”

She looked at you another moment, as if expecting you to stop her. When you didn’t, she turned on her heel and swept out of the room. Violet looked at you, upset and confused.

“Did Miss Stacy do something wrong?” she asked.

That conversation was probably difficult for her to understand. Not that she really needed to. You put the letter in the desk drawer so Gwilym wouldn’t see when he was done and then approached your daughter. You stroked her hair.

“Yes, Miss Stacy did something wrong,” you said. “But it’s okay. I’m okay, you’re okay. That’s what matters.”

“But she said sorry,” she said.

“I know,” you replied, wondering how to explain this. “But she told me a very bad lie. And some lies are so bad, you can forgive the person who told them, but you can’t have them as your friend anymore. Do you understand?”

She nodded, but you weren’t totally convinced she grasped it. It was complicated, after all. Before you could say anymore, Gwilym emerged from the bathroom, looking fresh. 

“Hey, handsome,” you said.

He smiled. “D’you need to get in?”

You shook your head. “Not yet. But we do need to brush our teeth and change.”

Gwilym waited on the bed, scrolling through his phone while you and Violet got ready. He found a good breakfast place not far from your hotel where the three of you could go. When you were dressed, you all left.

When you got to the restaurant, you ordered a mimosa and a coffee and the biggest plate they had. You got Violet a waffle as promised. Gwilym got something light with his coffee. When the food arrived, you cut up the waffle for Violet. It came loaded with whipped cream and strawberries, which made this more difficult, but you were very thankful she didn’t like syrup. At least you were spared that sticky mess.

“Mommy, want a strawberry?” she offered.

“Yes, thank you, angel girl,” you replied. 

You opened your mouth and she fed it to you as she giggled.

“Mister Gwilym, you want a strawberry?” she asked, turning to him.

“Of course, darling,” he said warmly, and she fed him one as well.

He offered to help her so you could eat your meal. You watched him feeding her and the way she beamed at him. It made your heart nearly burst. Then, Violet got a scoop of whipped cream and rubbed it over her mouth and chin. 

“Look, Mommy!” she cried. “I’m Santa! Ho ho ho! Merry breakfast!”

You and Gwilym exchanged amused looks and then burst into laughter. Violet was quite pleased with herself at making you laugh, so she laughed too. You pulled your phone out and took a picture of her, grinning widely. You posted it to your Instagram and captioned it “Ho ho ho! Merry breakfast -Violet” 

Then you retrieved the baby wipes from your purse and started cleaning off her hands. Gwilym took one as well and wiped her face. 

“Better watch out, Y/N, Vi’s coming for your job,” he joked.

“Hey, she gets her comedic genius from me,” you returned.

You continued back and forth as you cleaned her up. Then a middle-aged woman you didn’t know walked over and put her hand on your shoulder as she smiled at you.

“I just wanted to say you three are the sweetest little family,” she said kindly. “It made my day watching you all laugh together.”

“Oh, we’re n-” you began, but Gwilym cut you off.

“Thank you,” he said sweetly. “That’s so sweet.”

“Of course,” she said. “Y’all have a blessed day now.”

“You as well,” he returned.

She waved and walked out of the restaurant. You looked at him, raising a questioning eyebrow. He shrugged.

“There’s no need to explain such complicated things to strangers,” he said simply. “Besides, it’s kind of nice to think about.”

“Having a family?” 

“Yeah,” he said.

“Do you want children?” you wondered.

“Someday, certainly,” he told you. “But I’d be fine with just Violet for now if that’s what you want.”

The air around you froze.

“W...what?” you questioned.

His eyes went wide. “What?”

“What did you just say?”

“Nothing!” he returned. “I said ‘someday, certainly’ and then I stopped talking!”

“Gwilym, you-”

Once again, you were cut off, only this time by the waitress, dropping off your check.

“Whenever you guys are ready,” she said.

“We’re ready, just a second,” Gwilym said, fishing his wallet out of his pocket.

You were still staring at him, dumbfounded, as he pulled out his credit card.

“Oh, I wanna pay!” Violet insisted.

“Thank you, Violet, that’s very generous,” he said, handing her the card. 

She proudly placed it on the check presenter as the waitress smiled amusedly.

“I’ll be right back,” she said.

Gwilym watched her intently, as if enthralled by the way she swiped his hard at the computer terminal. You kept your eyes on him, waiting for him to say something. He wouldn’t - couldn’t - bring himself to look at you. He was humiliated that he’d slipped like that. You could see in the blush on his cheeks how deeply embarrassed he was, so you decided to let it go.

The waitress returned the card, placing it in front of Violet this time. She wished you all a good day and then Violet pushed the check back to Gwilym.

“You have to sign,” she said. “I don’t know how.”

“I’ll take care of it,” he assured her, picking up the pen, and filling it out. 

After the payment was taken care of, you all started getting ready to go. Gwilym put Violet back in her stroller and then you all headed back to the hotel. Gwilym was going to drop you and Violet off before heading to his own room to get ready for an interview he had that afternoon. He was grateful you didn’t press him on what he said in the restaurant. It was just a thoughtless comment, after all.

When you came into the lobby, one of the women behind the front desk called you over.

“Oh, Miss Y/L/N,” she said. “You have a message.”

“I do?” you questioned.

She nodded. Gwilym followed you over to the desk.

“What is it?” you asked.

“It’s from a man named Henry,” she said. “He called to say - now forgive me if this is strange - ‘There’s a way to protect Stacy.’”

Your brow furrowed.

“Cryptic, I know,” she said. “But he left a number where you can reach him.”

She handed you the note and you read where she had scribbled down the message and phone number. You looked at it as if it might explode.

“Is everything okay?” she asked. “If he’s someone who’s not safe, I didn’t tell him your room number or anything.”

“No, no, everything’s fine,” you lied. “Thanks for taking the message.”

“No problem,” she returned.

You and Gwilym looked at each other, worried. You headed up to your room, where right away you got Violet set up on her tablet with headphones on. She didn’t need to hear this conversation.

“What are you going to do?” Gwilym asked. “You can’t call him.”

You swallowed. “I think I have to.”

“What?! Why?!”

“Because!” you cried. “As angry as I am with Stacy, I don’t wish what happened to me onto her. He’s gonna hurt her, I know it.”

“That’s not your fault,” he told you. “Stacy isn’t your responsibility.”

“But if there’s a chance I can get him to leave her, shouldn’t I see about it?” you wondered. “I can’t do nothing.”

“Yes, you can,” he argued. “And you should. You should ignore this.”

Your brain agreed with him. But your heart, which still cared for Stacy - and any other woman who might cross paths with Henry - disagreed. If you could protect one more woman from his cruelty, you had to do something.

“We don’t even know what it is,” you said. “What if it’s something reasonable?”

“You know it won’t be,” he said. “You know this is a trap. He’s trying to set you up.”

You bit your lip, torn. Yes, obviously there was something Henry wanted from you. And he wanted it bad enough to orchestrate this whole thing. To seek out your assistant and seduce her just to get to a place where he could contact you.

“I have to try,” you said. “I have to try and stop him.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “Alright, call him.”

“Will you stay while I do?”

He nodded. You went to the desk and sat behind it. Gwilym pulled up a chair to join you. You put your phone on speaker and dialed the number the clerk had given you. It started ringing and your stomach lurched.

“Hold my hand,” you said to Gwilym, and he did so, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Hello?” said Henry’s voice through the phone.

“Henry, it’s Y/N,” you said, sounding much braver than you felt.

He snickered. “I knew you’d call.”

“What did you mean when you said there’s a way to protect Stacy?” you asked, getting right to the point. 

“Just that,” he said. “We’re people of bargains, right? I’m willing to cut things off with her.”

“What do you want from me in exchange?” you wondered.

“I want to meet my daughter.”

[applekitty]

things that happened with me in the past 7 years

i feel guilty so i want to post this. it’s basically a confession post abt stuff i’ve done, stuff that’s happened to me, and general rumination on how my actions have affected people.

transparency is the thing i value most, and now that i’m comfortable to share with you guys my age, i think it’s important i share these things too.

keep in mind my memory’s a little foggy on dates so i can mostly only give approximations

content warning for MANY mentions of rape, grooming, mlp porn, and one passing mention on transphobic genderbend content. also idk if counts as it or not but just to be safe??? csa, bc it happened when i was a kid

there’s a tl;dr at the end, please at the very least read that before sending me any asks about this post 

i got my iphone 4s when i was late into being 12 years old, in preparation for 7th grade. my mom thought it was time for me to get a phone so she could text me if she needed to. so, i got a way to access social media. by the time grade 7 had begun, i’d gotten this thing called ‘virtual space’. you may better know this as ‘amino’ nowadays. but back in the day, there was only one. virtual space.

virtual space (2012-2013/14?)

this was an rp media app with the ability to add posts and add pictures. i didnt know about tumblr or really anything outside of facebook at the time, so virtual space was my main social media. i only have one person who i still talk to from my times in virtual space, and i think it’s safe to say both of us do not want to remember our time there.

virtual space was a very toxic place to be, and i was one of the most toxic people on there. i was very much an elitist, a grammar nazi, and all the worst of the worst. i was very snooty and very much up my own ass. i traced art, i pretended to be a scholar. 

i was nice enough to some people, but all in all, i saw myself as superior because i was ‘literate’ and others were ‘illiterate’. people who were unable to spell or write out long paragraphs like i was were seen as lesser by me, and i considered virtual space a place to assert my authority as the best writer. thanks to virtual space, i had dedicated myself to learning words, improving my writing ability, and dressing up my things with such elaborate purple prose that it’d make future me snore and die.

i did a ton of regrettable things (such as pretending i was a guy who’d gotten into a car accident purely for attention) while i was on my superiority spree. 

there, on virtual space, i found out about my little pony. the first thing i ever saw from the show was the flim flam brothers song. and i loved it. so i got into mlp, starting rping in mlp things alongside the normal fandomless things.

on virtual space, people would often rip things off tumblr to put into vs. this is where i learned of tumblr. i moved off of vs and moved onto tumblr. subsequently, it’s also where i got fully into mlp.

tumblr (2013-now)

on tumblr there’s not much i can’t say that isn’t talked about in the below parts. i do want to say, though, that there was a time in my life wherein i was following and reblogging rebornica content. they reblogged some.. questionable things that i think contributed to the below stuff. just slightly, but not a bunch. btw if you do go into there you may see some of the stuff rebornica reblogged, including a thing about genderbends? know that this is my opinion on genderbends lol

mlp (2012-2015)

when i first got into mlp, it was before the season 3 premiere. during that time, i was still on vs, but i switched over to tumblr i believe after the announcements and trailers for rainbow rocks came out. 

mlp ask blogs were very nice on the surface, but things like ask molestia, or ask discord whooves quickly were put into my youtube recommends. they were some of the most popular ask blogs, things that got praised; humiliation, rape, and molestation. those are the things that got you follows, those are the things that got you popular. i wanted to be popular. i was popular on vs, so i want to be here too.

if you know anything about the mlp community, there’s a reason why for that. porn is incredibly saturated in mlp, and there is a lot of rape content permeating the internet. if you need proof, just go ahead and find out what ‘fall of equestria’ is. that’s a popular au. and it’s no secret that rape is all over places like fimfiction.

~lewd mlp comic dubs~ in general were on youtube as well. they weren’t as much as a contributing factor, but their simple BEING THERE normalized the concept of ‘lewd being acceptable and beneficial for me to benefit off of’ into my mind. it was a gateway into what would further come.

mlp was my first introduction to explicit content. i was 12. it was untagged.

i opened up a multitude of ask blogs before i settled on my longest; ask shy sombra. this blog was trying to claim the fame of a inactive blog called asksissysombra. sissy sombra was an explicitly nsfw blog with rape fetishization. the blog is still up and not hidden by tumblr’s nsfw detector, nor deleted. it regularly clocked 200 notes a post. 

ask shy sombra was exactly like asksissysombra, though much more tame. the rape fetishization was used in such a way where it was entirely offscreen, and fairly vague. though, with specific follower milestones, i would draw semi-lewd drawings hinting at rape, and get notes for it. thankfully, the blog didn’t get far enough into its plot (as i restarted it a total of four times) to get to the parts wherein rape was around. i made ask shy sombra when i was.. i know in eighth grade. i think a little late into eighth grade. so i’d be 14.

ask shy sombra was my most popular blog, and garnered me about 1.5k followers over a 2(?) year run. this only encouraged me to produce more content. to get more followers. naturally, this fostered in my literal child brain that this disgusting content is a good thing to make because look at all the rewards its giving me.

i would draw a lot of things purely for the edge on this ask shy sombra, and treat serious topics like things to shock people. i was surrounded by people who’d praise me and draw fanart for me. i was collecting a fanbase by making extraordinarily shitty content. wasn’t even well drawn either, lol. 

i was drawing all this because i felt like i was mature and edgy for doing so, that by being dark i was better than others, that i had more substance, and that people would take me seriously. 

after a while, i made myself a nsfw blog. lots of other mlp ask blogs, aka basically all of them, had nsfw blogs. so, i got myself one. i produced almost exclusively rape content, both drawings and writings. i wanted to be even more edgy, and this was a place i could do it raw, uncensored. i could unleash true horror here, on a nsfw blog. it was so shocking, so awful! isn’t that what the mlp fandom is about? being twisted and fucked up and evil on sideblogs, making awful content to go ‘ooh how edgy’ at? nothing was barred. i was 14, maybe early into 15.

i knew (aka followed, because there was a whole underground mlp nsfw community) other people, who were significantly older, for their rape content as well. and there were lots of people to choose from. one i remember (even by url) drew horrifying depictions of rape in a painterly style. there were two others i remember the style of, but not the names. these three were my introduction to guro, which thankfully i did not indulge in. 

i wasn’t very active on my nsfw blog, at least. when i was, i was only there in bursts and never made anything too bad if i can remember right. most of it was just.. lewd faces or whatever. my art wasn’t good enough to get lots of reblogs in the porn sphere, thank GOD. i mass-deleted the content on that blog three times before i deleted the blog itself and never tried again. i never did like that nsfw blog.

unrelated, but i think the reason why rape as a concept in the mlp fandom is so wide spread, is because the fandom had mass produced it as a replacement for rough sex. it was just a more ‘erotic’ version of rough sex to them. a more intense version of sex, wherein tears and screams to stop were actually just lies, these creatures secretly were pleasured.

and, for people like me, it’s a good way to be the edgiest kid on the block. the more edgy you were in mlp, the more followers you were bound to get. the more attention you got. and it worked. i got so much attention. 

on christmas of 2015, i stepped away from mlp for good. 

in 2016, i deleted everything on ask shy sombra, (except for the follower milestones), and moved on.

psmd (2015-2017)

psmd was my new target. psmd was a lot more quiet. i hadn’t done much with psmd in comparison to mlp, as i kept most of my explicit content private. however, as some of my mutuals back in psmd would tell you, rape was not a thing i strayed from talking about here either.

leftovers from my time in mlp, sure enough, rape was in psmd as well. thankfully, it was not public, with only a select few having access to it. no one reprimanded me for it. i don’t blame them for not scolding me. what are you supposed to do to something like that? it’s nerve racking and disgusting and you just want to side-eye it and leave it alone. especially since i was most of these people’s friends.

‘private’ is a hard word to call the rape content i made for that one. because psmd’s fandom was very very, very small. there was one specific server for it with like. 15 people at most on it at one time. either way, i was making rape content for the same reason; to be the edgiest kid on the block. if you knew anything about my extraordinarily edgy psmd au, you’ll know i went all out on edge. just like with ask shy sombra, the attention-seeking for the au and the desire to get eyes on content went to the worst bottom denominator. it never went to children or whatever, though. 

making rape content actually wasn’t the main thing bad i did while in that fandom, no. mostly bc it was all decently private.

i was in the pokemon ask blog community for a short while. while i was there, i was an elitist and sort of a snob. i projected my insecurity onto the bigger blogs around me, simply because i wasn’t getting the attention i thought i deserved. in mlp, it was so easy to get followers. here? not so much. i wasn’t happy about people ‘suddenly ignoring me’, so i lashed out at the community.

people who were just having fun for the sake of having fun, i didn’t like those guys! nuh uh! anyways, i sealed myself off to my small community of psmd people until i eventually decided to leave psmd for kirby in the summer of 2017. that was when i’d watched the original pilot for the kirby anime.

kirby (late 2017-now)

kirby is currently the fandom i’m in. thanks to me squishing myself into the box of ‘make this worthy of being shown on 4kids as content’, i have solidified my content. though some of it, such as my old galacta work, zero percent chill, are a little eh and show remnants of who i once was. 

i’ve had a rocky transition period, however, and some individuals can attest to that, unfortunately. 

i’m glad i’ve been able to try to cope with my fandom-inflicted grooming. certain events and people have gotten me to really think about morality and my actions in the past, as well as about writing and the things they may teach people.

conclusion

amino taught me that being popular and the best was the most important thing. 

mlp taught me creating rape content was not only okay to produce in the most shock-factory way, but it got you popular, which is all i wanted in my 13 year old brain. 

psmd taught me that people will not object to rape content— but they will pretend you and your edgy bullshit doesn’t exist. certain things are excluded from that, like one particular fic. while it’s gone now, it did exist. people knew it existed. 

kirby taught me to sit down, shut the fuck up, and stop that shit. no one sat me down for it, i did it myself.

getting a few more years on me helped, lol

everyday im super duper thankful i was never groomed further past that into making incest or making pedophilic content. i’m also thankful that i got out of mlp. that my content never got truly popular in psmd. i’m thankful my grooming never got taken advantage of by any specific, older individual. i’m thankful my grooming wasn’t directly from an actual person who could’ve gotten me deeper into the mindset, wherein it’d be harder for me to get out of it.

my actions in mlp and psmd have undoubtably groomed people in the process, and for that, i’ll be eternally sorry. if you knew me during that time, with my shitty edgy-for-attention aus, sorry.

tl;dr:

when i was in the mlp fandom, i wanted to be popular and quick. i noted the most easy way to get popular, get comic dubs, get that Cool Praise, was to be edgy. and, ontop of that, one can also add in a layer of sexual assault for extra Brony Praise. 

i didn’t stop to think of why things like rape or sexual assault was so massed produced in the fandom, and i don’t think i cared either. i knew rape was bad and a disgusting and terrible act and it scared me thinking about it happening to me (because im a girl lmao), so i’d write it up as a hyper-angsty thing. oohh the angst, oh how sad, look at how horrible it is, this totally isn’t stroking a huuuugeee unnecessary angstboner for a EXTRAORDINARILY delicate REAL WORLD topic at all!! totally not disrespectful to ACTUAL VICTIMS at all!!!! not that it mattered how it was written up, certain people in the fandom liked it more when things were horrible, awful, and disgustingly violent or ‘egregiously angsty’ in regards to rape. rape and its ‘angsty’ content was normalized to me when, at bare minimum, i was 13.

i ended up making rape-related extremely edgy content in the mlp fandom and i got a lot of followers. 1.5k followers. i used the shock of offscreen rape as a way to.. well, shock people. and make a horrifying story that i wanted attention towards. the praise I got for being edgy and making rape content groomed me into creating more. being groomed by no one inparticular into making this content, but by a fandom, by the sheer amount of rape content and general porn being paraded around, that really fucked me up. 

when i was 15 (going on 16 in half a year), i transferred this mentality into other fandoms, trying to be the most edgy and shocking by using the actions of rape and sexual violence or even sexual trafficking as my vehicle of angst without thinking of what the writing of these subjects in such a way may say about me as a person. i didn’t care about that, i wanted to be the darkest, most edgy, most brooding. and I was, and I got mad when I didn’t get the 1.5k followers worth of attention that the mlp fandom was so willing to give me.

when i was 17, i transferred to kirby. and that’s when i realized all this edge-for-the-sake-of-edge bullshit needed to stop. i’d almost taken my extreme edge to kirby as well, but i doubled down on myself and quit that shit. thank god that i did that. i strickened myself to write g-related content with only minor, more moderate amounts of edge.

i’m now 20. i’m hypercritical of people who do the same things i did when i was younger, because hyperedge shit like the stuff i created makes me feel disgusting thinking back on it. i know i most likely groomed people into doing the exact same shit that i’d done with my presence, especially in the mlp fandom. and for everything i did, all the extremely insensitive content i made when i was younger, sorry.

i wanted to be transparent about this, and it’s important to me to be so. cards out on the table and such. if you feel uncomfortable about this new info and the things i did to get attention when i was younger, that’s completely understandable. feel free to unfollow / block me if that makes you more comfortable on this platform, even if we’re mutuals or friends.

[that-curly-haired-lesbian]

Birthday Prompt - The Perfect Present

Today is a very special day, Taylor Swift turns 30!! To celebrate I decided to take some tumblr prompts and write some gay short stories with a birthday theme!

Happy birthday, Taylor (hope you never read these!)

Prompt: Taylor mentions offhand during the first week or so after VSFS 2013 how much she loves her birthday and the Christmas season, Karlie is immediately hit with pressure and tries her very best to find the perfect gift for someone who can already buy herself whatever she wants. Taylor is impressed!

A/N:  I got three different versions of this same prompt so I just mashed them together into this, hope everyone enjoys!

Read it on ao3 or on Wattpad

The snow is falling outside the window and on the couch in her cozy West village apartment we find Karlie Kloss, but she's not alone. International super star Taylor Swift is lying on said couch, her feet casually resting on Karlie's lap in a way that feels oddly familiar already.

Karlie can't quite believe that this is her life now, a mere week ago the older woman was someone Karlie was constantly told by everyone from makeup artists to supposed mutual friends that she'd get along with; and she had to admit that they all had been right. In the week or so since Taylor's appearance at the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show the two had been almost inseparable and Karlie wouldn't have it any other way.

"Hey," Taylor suddenly says and despite her soft tone she almost manages to make Karlie jump. They have been sitting in comfortable silence for a while and from what Karlie has been able to tell Taylor has been completely engrossed in whatever is on her phone.

"Yes?" Karlie asks, almost teasingly, curious about what Taylor might be about to say, but also aware that the last time she spoke it was to announce that she needed to go pee.

"I just read that Downton Abbey season...I mean series four is premiering on Us TV on January 14th, that the best late birthday present ever!"

Karlie stifles an urge to laugh, "Downton Abbey, really? You're such a nerd!"

"Whatever, Miss DC Comics!" Taylor fires back with no hesitation and Karlie actually laughs now, "Whatever," She copies, "you read Marvel!"

"The far superior publishing house!"

"I'm not actually entering this discussion with you, Swift!"

"Too chicken, Kloss?"

Karlie laughs again and shakes her head, "Not doing it...You said birthday present? It's your birthday soon, December 13th, right?"

"That's creepy, Karlie." Taylor says and her expression is so deadpan that for half a second Karlie considers apologizing until Taylor bursts out laughing, "Someone did their homework on me!"

Blushing a tiny bit now the model smiles, "what can I say, the material is readily available and I'm a curious person!"

"That's sweet," Taylor says and retracts her legs only to properly sit up to press a small kiss to Karlie's still heating cheek.

"Oh look!" Taylor exclaims suddenly, as Karlie has learnt over the past week the blonde's attention span is occasionally akin to that of a Golden Retriever puppy, "it's snowing!" She jumps up and rushes to the window, practically pressing her nose to the glass. She turns back to the woman on the couch, her white, broad smile splitting her face in two, "I can't wait for Christmas!"

Karlie's only thought?

What the actual fresh hell am I supposed to get her for her birthday AND Christmas?

--

It's about two days later when Karlie has practically rushed around every store in Manhattan, still none the wiser as to what to get her new...friend. When her phone rings she's relived, an excuse to take a break from the stress that she usually only feels around four days before Christmas Day.

"Hey Kimby!" She breathes into the phone a lot more breathlessly than she'd planned. Turns out running around stores, not her thing. She already knew that, but turns out it's really not her thing when there's the added pressure of trying to impress someone with the perfect gift.

"What the heck, Mouse, you running a marathon or something?"

Karlie giggles despite herself, "not this time," she admits, "I'm trying to find someone a birthday and/or Christmas present and I have absolutely no-"

"It's Taylor Swift, isn't it?" The model's little sister interrupts and Karlie rolls her eyes.

"It's for Taylor, yes...I wish you guys would stop calling her-"

"It's her name!" The high schooler counters.

"Yes, Kimberly!"

"That's not the same..." The girl grumbles, making her sister laugh a little too hard.

"Do you like, realize how cool it is that you're dating Taylor Sw-"

"We're not dating," Karlie interrupts a little too quickly, "We're just...hanging out and I don't-"

"Karlie and Taylor sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-" Kimby singsongs, laughing hysterically all the while.

"Okay, dude, unless there's something you actually wanted I'm going to hang up now, you're incredibly unhelpful and I have to find something!"

--

It's two days until Taylor's birthday and once again the two are sat on Karlie's couch when the model finds herself taking a deep breath.

"So Taylor," she starts and the singer grins.

"Yes, Karlie?"

"I know I'm not going to be able to see you on your birthday, but I-I got you a little something and-and it's really no big deal if you hate it you can totally...I mean I don't want to-"

"Karlie," Taylor interrupts and there's something soft and fond and somehow incredibly calming in her gaze suddenly, "just go get the thing if you want, I already love it because it's from you and I...Well..." There's a few seconds of agonizing silence, "I really, really like spending time with you!"

Karlie beams as she gets up from the couch and walks over to the TV stand to reveal a package wrapped up in ribbon and soft sparkly paper, just the sight makes Taylor smile she notes and she's very proud of herself for a second.

"Is it fragile?" Taylor asks immediately as Karlie hands her the gift and the taller girl shakes her head, "not really." Taylor proceeds to shake the present at once and even puts her ear up to it. "It's heavier than I thought!" She notes and Karlie smiles in amusement, "just open it!"

"This is a process, Karlie!" Taylor exclaims, raising her eyebrows in horror at the callousness with which the younger girl is seemingly treating this moment. Truth is though that Karlie is too nervous to watch Taylor go about this any longer, but she's not about to tell her that.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt the delicate process-" She starts, but Taylor is already ripping the wrapping off like a kid on Christmas morning by that point.

A few seconds of silence pass between them as Taylor gets the gift unwrapped and then she gaps and it is as if the world stands still until she speaks.

"Karlie, I like, I genuinely want you to know that this is the best gift I've gotten in...Years!" At first Karlie thinks she's kidding, that this is some expression of dry humor again, but then she actually looks at Taylor who's borderline tearing up and looking at the necklace with the widest of smiles.

Delicately she lifts it from its box and hands it to Karlie, "Will you help put it on?"

"Of course!" Karlie says and gently moves Taylor's long hair out of the way to fasten the necklace properly. When Taylor turns around still beaming Karlie can't help but kiss her, Taylor might be thankful for the present, but Karlie is just as thankful that it appears she may have nailed this.

The necklace is a perfect replica of a small cat complete with fur details, it's real silver and it's cute but silly, or at least Karlie had thought so until she saw Taylor's face.

"How did you know I've been looking at this online for a while?"

"I don't know, lucky guess?"

[ecto-american]

Web of Stories

Written for @wolfsongroar as a winner for this! I hope it’s to your liking! Also on AO3!

Due to the massive Spiderverse spoilers this phic contains, I’m posting it on my DP sideblog so that the readmore should properly work and not autoload for mobile on danphan because tumblr functions as a website. The spoilers begin IMMEDIATELY, and so the entire phic is under the Read More cut.

Miles meets a fellow superhero during the dimensional crossover who, while he doesn’t hold the Spiderman title, understands him all too deeply: Danny Phantom.

Dear Uncle Aaron,

I gotta do something, and I don’t know if I can do it. I’m scared, man. I’m just tired of letting everybody down. You’re the only one I can talk to. I just wish you were here.

Miles sighed heavily as he stared at his own words. A million thoughts were running through his head, and he bit his lip. He put the pen to the paper, prepared to continue writing. He paused, and he listened.

Footsteps, faint but clear, on the fire escape. He looked up, a smile pulling at his lips as relief washed over him. Uncle Aaron was home. Miles prepared to rip the note out of the paper, to toss it away when he paused. The figure came to the window, and clawed hands slipped through the crack of the window, grasping it and pushing it up.

The Prowler stepped into the seemingly empty room. He paused, scanning carefully. Seeing nothing. Footsteps slowly creaked through the small apartment, and Miles shifted to press himself to the back of his TV. His fingers quickly went up and jerked his mask down. He could feel the footsteps, the weight of heavy boots as they came closer.

A swift motion and the Prowler was glaring hard at nothing. Miles stared up with wide, worried eyes staring into the oblivious, but suspicious glare of his enemy. A ring filled the apartment, and the Prowler put a hand to his ear.

“Hello, Mr. Frisk. I’ve got the security tapes from the tunnel right here, I’ll find him.” The Prowler’s voice send shivers down Miles’s spine as the man stood up straight. He pulled his mask off, and it froze the young Spiderman still. “You know me, sir. I don’t ever quit.”

Miles didn’t stay frozen for long. It took everything to not begin audibly hyperventilate. He could feel his mask pressing against his lips and blowing out as he began to breath hard and fast. This...this wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. Miles began to slowly crawl backwards as his uncle, no, the Prowler. No...Uncle Aaron was focusing on his conversation. He turned his back to him, and Miles took this chance to scramble to his feet and leave through the window.

Aaron froze and quickly turned to see the blur of the window half-closing. His eyes narrowed, and he pulled his mask back on.

Miles half-slipped as he turned the sharp corner of the alleyway, mind racing faster than his legs but somehow the thought process had come to a shrieking halt. Bursting out of the alleyway, his feet skidded as he bumped into a car. He pushed himself from the car, and he ran. Down the street, barely avoiding people, trees, newspaper stands.

An engine roared, revving. He ran past an alley, glancing into it. His eyes widened, and he forced shaky legs to go an extra boost. The Prowler burst from the alley on a bike. Oh no. Oh no, oh no oh no oh no oh no. He couldn’t outrun a bike!

Miles huffed as he pushed himself. Please, please. Just go. Work! Anything! He desperately wiggled his wrists in attempt to get his web slinger to work. Nothing. Now would be the best time for anything, for something, to work!

He grabbed onto a lamp-post, intending to use it to swing around. His body jerked hard. Panic flowed through him as he desperately tried to pry his hand off. He grabbed the pole with his other hand. Bad move. Miles was completely stuck, and he put his feet on the pole, hurriedly thrashing around like a trapped animal. WHEN I SAID ANYTHING WORK I DIDN’T MEAN THE STICKY! His eyes stung with scared tears.

A hand grabbed the back of his costumed shirt, grasping it tightly. It pulled, and Miles’s eyes widened. His hands broke free from the lamp post, just in time for the Prowler to grab at him. Or rather, attempt.

Despite the mask, Miles could see the absolute shock on Uncle Aaron’s face as his claw went completely through him with no damage. Their eyes locked, and Miles felt sick. He loved surprising his uncle. He loved the fear of surprise and shock, and he always tried to make a habit out of it. But now…

The Prowler’s shock soon disappeared, and both hands were put on his bike. He revved his engine, and began to continue the chase.

His rescuer seemed to swing with the most grace Miles had felt thus far. He tried to glance back, but only saw black and white mixing in with the dark night sky, and highlights of the city’s lights on the form. His eyes focused back to his uncle, only for his view to change as his savior turned.

Miles was shifted to lay against somebody, looking up, and the grasp on his back had quickly moved to wrap a protective arm around his waist. He knew that they were not swinging. They were flying. And for the shortest of time, he was taken aback just how wonderful his city looked at this angle.

Life seemed to move in slow motion. The lights took a distorted, long exposure view. A beautiful mix of pinks and yellows, bright reds and blues, hints of green and purple creating an explosion of color that he had seen so many times, but had never experienced like this. It took his breath away.

A small explosion broke his gaze, and he craned his neck to look at the streets just in time. The Prowler’s motorcycle had a burst tire, green smoke coming from it. He was stranded to a halt, and he was staring intently up at the pair. Uncle Aaron was ignoring traffic, as he always did. Miles always remembered his dad grabbing his uncle and preventing him from just freely jaywalking across New York streets.

He had no clue how to feel anymore.

His rescuer soon took him to an alleyway, setting him down. Miles immediately took a step forward. He looked at his rescuer properly for the first time as he tried to collect himself. He was a white haired teen with glowing green eyes, in a spandex suit. He had a symbol on his chest. Miles squinted at him as he tried to focus, but his spider sense didn’t go off. The other stared back at him, squinting slightly.

“You’re...you’re a superhero,” Miles noted, his voice a bit quiet and confused. “But...you’re not a Spiderperson?” Miles leaned back a bit, motioning to the other up and down. “You look so much like one of us, but...I’m not sensing…?” Miles closed his eyes briefly, shaking his head as he tried to collect his thoughts. Uncle Aaron, the Prowler, Spiderman, Peter B. Parker. “Wh-who are you?” The teen gave a half-smile at him.

“Alright, let’s start at the beginning, one last time. My name is Danny Phantom.”

A title card comes to the screen, stylized like a comic book. The title reads “Along Came A Spider”, and the subcaption “A web of stories come together!” Danny and Miles are side by side, swinging towards the camera, Miles in his current kiddie costume, and Danny as Fenton in the white suit with black details. Danny is using ecto construct as a makeshift web slinging, his “web” green and glowing. In the background is the looming shadow of Fisk.

“I stepped into my parents’ ghost portal, and the shock turned me into a half-ghost.”

A black haired Danny Fenton stood within the outline of his parents’ portal. His hand brushed against the on button, and an explosion of color flashed as the shock turned the familiar white haired, green eyed hero.

“And for the last two years, I thought I was the one and only hero. I regularly save Amity Park, my hometown, from ghosts. Then I saved my hometown from the Ghost King.”

Danny, in his normal ghost form, is seen chasing ghosts and hunting them down, sucking them into his thermos. A suited up Danny punched Pariah Dark. A duplicated grabbed the Ghost King, pushing him into the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep, his duplicate shutting it closed. The scene flashed to Amity Park, previously surrounded by the glowing green swirls of the Ghost Zone, flicking back to it’s normal spot on the American map.

“I regularly dodge the Guys in White, my parents, and foil my arch enemy’s plot. My arch enemy is my dad’s, quote unquote, best friend. He’s also a halfa, but he’s terrible. Morally, I mean. The dude wants to date my mom.”

Danny is zooming down the streets of Amity, dodging blasts from Guys in White. They are weaving in and out of traffic on motorbike styled vehicles. Scene flashes to Danny with his eyes wide, hands up in surrender as his mom shoves an ectogun against his nose. Before she can pull the trigger, he quickly smacks the gun from her hand and phases through the floor. Another flash, and Danny is seen shoving his thermos into an invention of Vlad’s causing steam to rise from it and the large machine to shake and burst at a weak spot. Vlad is coming from his behind, ready to pounce when Danny turns at the last second to send him to the floor with a zap of the Plasmius Maximus. Vlad hits the floor, turning human in a daze. A flash, and Vlad is seen trying to put his arm around Maddie. She glares at him, shrugging him off. Danny is in the background, crossing his arms and narrowing glowing green eyes.

“I was doing the normal, ya know, running from my ex-girlfriend, when this weird thing happened. A portal opened up. I’m used to portals, but this one...it was different.”

Danny Phantom zooms close to the ground of the park, dodging trees or simply phasing through them. His pursuer, the Red Huntress, is hot on his tail, shooting at him with an ecto gun. Danny turned onto his back, firing up a ghost ray to shoot at her board. He just needs to slow her down.

A portal opened up underneath him, causing him to stop so fast he, quite literally, did a flip before he was pulled in. He tries hard to grasp the side, but is ultimately sucked in. The Red Huntress flies past him, but screeches to a halt and attempts to go back to investigate the area. Danny is flung through a kaleidoscope of bright colors. This definitely wasn’t the cold green color palette of the Ghost Zone.

He’s spit out in New York. He does a few flips in the air, but manages to catch and steady himself. Danny looks up, and his eyes widen.

“I was in...New York. Which, admittedly, isn’t too weird. But I saw the headlines.”

BREAKING NEWS: NEW YORK’S HERO, SPIDER-MAN, FOUND DEAD AT 26.

Danny stares up in disbelief.

“Spiderman isn’t real where I’m from. He’s fiction. A comic book hero. I knew this had to be an alternate dimension where he...not only existed but he’s...He was always my favorite hero, ya know.”

Danny, now as Fenton, is standing in front of a newspaper stand. He phases his hand through the box, taking out a newspaper. The front page was entirely devoted to the passing of grad student Peter Parker. He clutches it tightly.

“Out of every superhero comic I’ve ever read...out of all of them...I always related to him the most...I may not have been doing the superhero thing for very long, but I knew that whatever killed him had to...had to have brought me here. That wasn’t the kind of portal I’m used to.”

Miles stared at the white-haired teenager with wide eyes.

“I...I thought the collider only brought Spiderpeople here,” Miles said slowly. “If you’re here...how many heroes are in New York?”

“Hey, let’s not worry about that right now,” Danny told him, and he reached out to put a hand on the dude’s shoulder. Miles glanced up at him. “Are you okay?”

“I-I, yeah. I’m cool, man. T-thanks for-for saving me,” Miles replied, and he brushed off the other teen’s touch. He turned towards the street, taking a few steps from the other. Danny stared at him, studying him.

“Dude, I know that look,” he lightly accused. “Who was chas-IOPAIGDSFYH.”

Miles turned on his feel to see Danny on the ground. He was jerking hard as he glitched, curled up in a ball with distorted yells. Miles immediately rushed back, hovering anxiously over him. After a moment, he stopped, and Danny was left panting hard on the floor with wide eyes. He was clutching his side, staring upwards before looking to Miles. Miles bit his inner cheek as he offered a hand to Danny. The half-ghost laid motionless for a moment before accepting his hand. Miles pulled him up, squeezing his hand hard as the other stood on shaky legs.

“Look, you gotta come with me,” Miles said. “You’re going to die if you stay here. Come with me, I can get you home.” Danny squeezed his hand in return before they both let go. They both automatically briefly fist-bumped.

“Thanks. So who are you? You seem to know a lot about what’s going on.”

“My name’s Miles Morales,” Miles introduced himself. “I…” He cut himself off as he thought. His gut twisted up. “I’m…” Danny leaned in a bit.

“You mentioned a spider sense,” Dany told him. Miles snapped his attention to him, wide eyed.

“I never told you about my spider sense!” he cried out. Danny snapped his fingers before giving him a finger gun.

“You did just now,” he grinned. Miles’s face fell hard, and he began to play with the hems of the cuffs on his costume. Danny’s grin quickly turned into a sympathetic grin. “Dude. It’s chill. You’re new to this, aren’t you?” Miles swallowed a hard lump in his throat. Was it that obvious?

“I’m...I’m supposed to be Spiderman,” he began, and his breath hitched. “But I’m...I can’t...I’m so sticky.”

“I...I don’t know what that means,” Danny admitted, giving him a bit of an odd stare. “But, uh, let’s get going. Where is this collider?”

“We need to get the other Spiderpeople,” Miles explained. He shoved his hands into his pocket, and he jerked his head for Danny to follow him. Danny shifted to begin walking next to him.

“Aren’t you worried about your mask?” Danny questioned. Miles smiled, despite knowing his fellow he-his fellow teen couldn’t see. “Like, standing out as Spiderman.”

“I don’t think I have to worry much about it,” he said, and he lifted a hand to motion to New York. There were plenty of people also wearing Spiderman gear in memory of the fallen hero. The true hero of New York. Danny just nodded, and he began to walk alongside Miles. “So, Danny, right? I can’t help but notice that you’re still in costume. And you don’t have a mask.” Danny grinned.

“Yeah, I don’t think I exist here,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “So I’m not worried walking around as Phantom. It actually makes it kind of easier, cause I can better tolerate the cold better like this.”

“And the lack of mask?” Miles questioned. Danny shrugged.

“My hair and eyes are different like this. And it’s been working for me so far. I mean, my own parents have pointed a gun in Danny Phantom’s face before, and neither one have caught on,” Danny replied. He must have noticed Miles’s wide eyes, and to his light horror, Danny just laughed.

“Your-your parents? They’ve pointed a gun at you!?” Miles choked out.

“Just an ecto-gun,” said the teen, as if that made it any better. “They’re ghost hunters. I’m a ghost. That’s what they do.”

“And it doesn’t hurt you?” Miles spoke only just loud enough for Danny to hear. “That your family...wants to...to kill you?”

“Can’t kill what’s already dead,” Danny joked, grinning. Miles didn’t see the humor in it, and Danny’s grin dropped as he sighed. “I mean, it’s not like they know it’s me. Ultimately, I know they love me. I’m their son. No matter what, they will always love me. I know they’ll accept me.”

“How do you know that?” Miles questioned. He stopped at a crosswalk amongst a crowd. Nobody paid any mind to the odd duo.

“Due to timeline stuff, let’s just say that I’ve been revealed before, and they’ve accepted me. I know that they will always love me,” Danny replied. He sounded so...confident. Miles envied him.

“...” Miles looked at the ground, the slush and the reflections of his city in the half-melted snow. His throat tightened as he tried to find the words. “That man who was chasing me...The Prowler...that was my uncle.” He stole a glance at Danny, who looked sympathetic to him. Miles returned his attention to the water. It rippled, the beautiful lights breaking, as a car broke the puddle’s surface.

“...I’m sorry, man.” Miles felt Danny’s hand pat his shoulder comfortingly, giving it a light squeeze. “Does he know?” Miles shook his head.

“No,” he choked out. He could see, despite the water rippling, that they were allowed to pass. Danny let go of him, and they continued. “But...man, we’re so close. I just...I looked up to him. So much, and I just...he wants to kill me, and I…”

“You guys hang out often?” Danny interrupted his thoughts with an unexpected question.

“All the time,” Miles felt an unexpected lightness and warmth. “Uncle Aaron and I are artists. He helps me throw up my art all the time. He always finds the best spots for me to display it.” A gut punch as flashes of all the spots came to mind. Now…oh god...that’s…That’s why Uncle Aaron always knew…

“He’ll love you no matter what,” Danny told him. Miles snapped his gaze to him. How could Danny sound so confident and assure of what he was saying. “Trust me.”

“He wants to kill me,” Miles tried to protest. “It’s, it’s his literal job-” Danny cut him off.

“Miles, trust me. This is coming from somebody whose parents hunt him.” Danny stopped, and Miles did too. People passed them, completely oblivious. “The only reason I haven’t told my parents is because I can’t have them worry for me like this. My sister knows though. But my parents knowing would also limit what I can do. But at the end of the day? I know once I turn human in front of them, they will never hunt Phantom again and that they will instantly love him. Because Phantom is Fenton, and Fenton is, and will always be, their family.” Miles felt anxiety rush through him at the idea of coming clean.

“But it’s not just my uncle! My dad,” Miles spoke up, his voice choking. “He thinks Spiderman’s a menace! He’s a cop. He wants to arrest Spiderman, which is still like, a thousand times better than my uncle wanting to kill Spiderman.” Danny chuckled.

“Miles, I swear to you. If you ever chose to expose your secret to your family, they will instantly love Spiderman. Because Spiderman is Miles Morales, and Miles Morales is their son and nephew.” Miles felt his eyes watering up. It felt so weird to hear that he was Spiderman, especially spoken so confidently by a hero. “Above all, you were family before Spiderman.”

He felt a strange surge of comfort and confidence, and he took a deep breath. Danny smiled at him.

“Come on, man. Let’s go get everybody home. I’m actually really curious to meet all these Spiderpeople you keep talking about,” he told him. Miles gave a smile.

“Yeah. Let’s go.” Miles began to take a step. Danny put a hand on his chest to stop him. He raised an eyebrow at the half-ghost. Danny’s eyes were sparkling.

“Dude. Let’s take the scenic route. I know Spiderman can’t fly, and we just went for a bit of a flight, but...wanna go again?”

Miles broke out into a grin, his own eyes sparkling excitedly as he nodded eagerly.

[reciprocityfic]

a slight return home, chapter 4

Title: A Slight Return Home Fandom: The Walking Dead Pairing: Rick x Michonne Rating: T Summary: Rick’s death shakes Michonne’s world to its core. With her daughter and her remaining family, she tries to navigate her changed life, and all the struggles and surprises that come with it.  Canon-compliant, for now.  Spoilers up to 9x06.

Author’s Note: Hello, my dears! Here is chapter four of A Slight Return Home. I hope you like it!

read chapter one on tumblr, archive of our own or ff.net read chapter two on tumblr, archive of our own or ff.net read chapter three on tumblr, archive of our own or ff.net read chapter four on archive of our own or ff.net

dream a little dream of me

She bursts into tears the first time she sees him.

He's little, he's wrinkly, and he's covered in goop as Siddiq lifts him up to her after the final push. Siddiq cuts the umbilical cord and wipes him off quickly, then checks his vitals before laying the baby on her chest. His eyes are shut, fists closed tight, and his screams echo throughout the room. He's the most beautiful thing she's ever seen, and she cries.

He's here. He's finally here, but Rick is not, and somehow, she's never been more happy or more sad at any point in her life.

She cradles him close, and after a few moments, he quiets down, and nuzzles his face into her chest. She smiles through her tears, strokes her hand over his head. She can already see the scant hair he has trying to form into curls, and her heart breaks.

She can't tear her gaze from him, so she doesn't notice that Siddiq has finished cleaning up and is now standing next to her until he speaks.

"He's beautiful, Michonne."

She sniffles, and nods.

"He is."

"Do you have a name picked out for him yet?"

She hasn't told anyone except Rick what his name will be, up to this point. It had been just between the two of them. Something they could share in.

"I'm going to name him Rick."

Siddiq doesn't answer right away, but when he does, she swears she can hear a tremble in his voice.

"That's a good name."

He stretches in her arms, and nuzzles his face into her chest again. She smiles softly.

"Yeah. It is."

He doesn't sleep well for the first few months.

She supposes that few infants sleep particularly well in the initial weeks following birth, but she doesn't remember it being this difficult with Andre, and Judith could sleep through anything. Siddiq agrees that his problems seem a touch above average, but assures her that it's nothing to worry about; some babies sleep through the night within days, while others take much more time.

As a result, though, many of her nights are nearly sleepless. Her leadership takes a temporary hit, only because she is so exhausted so much of the time, but many people - Rosita, Father Gabriel, Aaron, among others - step up to help in her absence. And she firmly assures the community that she will be back to full capacity once RJ starts sleeping better.

For now, her focus is on her baby, along with Judith. Judith, who loves her baby brother so dearly already. Who showers him with soft kisses all over his tiny face, who constantly talks and coos at him in her sweet, high voice, who loves to sit next to Michonne on the couch and cradle their new bundle in her small arms. Judith, who handles the many changes going on around her with a grace that eclipses her young age. The girl never complains - not when their family routine changes so drastically, not when her mother's attention must so often draw towards RJ instead of her, and not when her baby brother's cries keep her awake at night.

On one particularly noisy evening, Judith wanders into her mother's room, blanket clutched in one hand and stuffed rabbit in the other. Michonne looks at her little girl as she walks around the room, gently bouncing RJ as he cries. Judith's eyes are sleepy, and there's a frown on her face, as she crawls on top of the bed, but she doesn't say anything.

"What's up, little bird?" Michonne asks.

"Baby brother is keeping me up," she answers simply.

Michonne sighs, and then sits down on the edge of the bed. She shifts RJ to one arm so she can run her hand over Judith's hair.

"I'm sorry, baby."

"It's okay. He's just a little baby," she mumbles tiredly, as she sets down her bunny and rubs at her eyes.

Michonne can't help the warmth that fills her heart, and she smiles at her daughter.

"You're so smart, Judy. And kind."

She's someone her father would be proud of. The thought threatens to make tears well up in her eyes.

Judith doesn't respond. Instead, she lays back on the two pillows at the head of the bed. Michonne watches her for a moment, and then decides to lay down next to her. She crawls over carefully, still holding RJ, and settles down next to her daughter, their heads resting together. She lays the still- whining baby on her chest.

The two of them are quiet for a few minutes, but then, Judith turns and looks at her mother.

"Did you try to sing to him?"

"No, I didn't," Michonne says, shaking her head.

Judith pauses before speaking.

"You should sing him Daddy's song. That always helps me go to sleep."

She heard him for the first time one evening long ago. Before the war started. Before Negan. Before the two of them together, even.

She had been cleaning up from dinner, but now that she was finished, she decided to shower and get to bed early - a rare opportunity in the sort of world they lived in. She said goodnight to Carl, who was sitting on the couch with a new comic book Glenn had gotten him on a run a few weeks ago. Rick had gone upstairs a while ago with Judith, to put her to sleep. The toddler must've been having a little trouble getting there, since Rick wasn't back yet.

She was on her way to the bathroom when she heard a male voice singing. It was so pleasant and melodic that it made her pause. She looked to her left - towards where the sound was coming from - and saw the door to Judith's room, slightly ajar.

She knew it was Rick. It had to be Rick. He was the one putting Judith to bed. Plus, Carl was downstairs, and there was no one else in the house. It was Rick.

But she still had to check.

Gingerly, she backed up a few steps, and moved towards the edge of the hallway, so she could peer through the crack between the wall and the door and see into Judith's bedroom.

She saw Rick, standing and swaying back and forth, with his little girl in his arms. She was laying against his chest, eyes closed and mouth open, wearing purple polka-dotted footie pajamas. Michonne could see Rick's mouth moving as he sang. She couldn't quite make out the words, but the tune sounded familiar.

She couldn't have stopped the smile that crept onto her face even if she'd tried. She thought of nights spent rocking Andre to sleep in her arms with a sweet song, and the memory didn't make her sad.

And then, as suddenly as the sound first permeated her eardrums, it was over. Rick stopped swaying, and approached Judith's crib, gently laying the girl down and bending over to press a soft kiss to her cheek.

"Goodnight, little bird," he whispered.

Her smile grew. And she was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't realize that Rick was approaching until he opened the door to leave the room. They both startled slightly at the sight of each other.

"Rick," she said.

"Michonne," he answered, his voice slow as he closed the door behind him. He squinted at her, and tilted his head, like he had a habit of doing. "What are you doing out here?"

She leaned back against the wall, looking away from him. She felt embarrassed, all of a sudden, for snooping on a quiet moment between him and his daughter. She hoped he wouldn't be mad at her.

She hated when he was mad at her, or when she was mad at him. It rarely happened now, but when it did, it was like her entire world was off-kilter. Like someone had switched all her rights with her lefts without telling her.

"I was, uh...I was on my way to take a shower, but I heard someone singing."

He didn't react for a moment, and her heart dropped. But then, he laughed gently, and looked down at the floor as he ran a hand through his curly hair. When he managed to meet her gaze again, she swore she saw a blush covering his cheeks, even in the dim light.

"You heard that, huh?" he asked.

"Yeah, I did. And I was curious, so I stopped to listen."

He laughed again, and stared at the ground once more. He seemed almost embarrassed, and she continued quickly in an attempt to reassure him.

"It was nice," she told him. "I kept listening because it made me happy. To see the two of you like that."

He glanced up at her, looking surprised.

"It did?"

She nodded. He smiled at her, and this time, it seemed genuine. His eyes brightened, and he seemed pleased, somehow.

"I'm glad it made you happy," he murmured.

They locked eyes, and a beat passed between them. It wasn't quite awkward, but it wasn't comfortable, either. She felt like she was standing on the edge of something high, and her stomach twisted in a way she didn't recognize.

"May I ask what song you were singing?" she said to him softly.

Rick blinked hard twice, his face wearing an expression that she couldn't identify. Then, he smiled, and she felt her whole body relax.

"Yeah, of course. My older cousin used to babysit me and my brother when we were young. I always had trouble falling asleep when my parents weren't home, so she would come sit with me and sing me songs to try to get me to relax. My favorite was always 'Dream a Little Dream of Me' by The Mamas and the Papas. So when we had Carl, I would sing it to him when I put him to bed. And I started singin' it to Judith back at the prison."

He stopped, and looked at Judith's door, the corner of his lips turning up.

"She likes it, I think. Even more than Carl did. It always seems to calm her down."

Hearing the title of the song jogged her memory.

"My grandmother used to play that song," she told him. "The Ella Fitzgerald version, though."

He grinned at her.

"Somethin' I have in common with the fancy city girl."

She rolled her eyes playfully, and he let out a hushed laugh. He liked to tease her often, about anything. When she told him a bit about her upbringing, he found another target. He always exaggerated their differences, and referred to his as the poor, rural childhood to her more well-to-do, metropolitan upbringing.

"You're lucky I'm friends with a country bumpkin like you."

Something flashed in his eyes - something almost crestfallen - but before she could even try to decipher it, or ask about it, he laughed again. Then, he cast his eyes towards the floor.

"Yeah," he whispered. "I'm lucky."

He kept his eyes down, for a moment longer than she expected him to.

"Rick?"

He immediately brought his gaze back to her, and plastered a smile on his face.

"Sorry. Just tired."

"You gonna go to bed?"

"Probably should. Me and Daryl are supposed to go out early tomorrow."

She nodded. Stepping forward, she placed her hand on his shoulder and squeezed, then let her fingers trail down his arm before dropping back to her side. She was close enough to him now that she had to look up to make eye contact with him. When she did, he was already staring back at her.

"Goodnight, Rick," she said gently.

His lips turned up into a half smile, and he shifted slightly on his feet, bringing himself even closer to her.

"'Night, Michonne," he murmured, and there was a lilt to his voice that, again, she couldn't decipher.

He'd been different around her the past couple of weeks. Not vastly different. In fact, she probably wouldn't have noticed it if she wasn't so completely in tune with him, always. But she did notice it, and it frustrated her - not because it was a bad different, or anything like that. She just wasn't used to not understanding his moods and actions. Not anymore.

Now, though, there always seemed to be a certain edge to him whenever they were together. Especially when they were alone. He would stare at her for a moment too long, and then look away quickly, and he wouldn't meet her gaze again for a few moments. There would be a note in the tone of his voice, or a tiny glint in his eyes, that she hadn't seen before. And sometimes, he almost seemed nervous.

He'd never been nervous around her before; he'd been hostile at the prison, distant when they first arrived at Alexandria. But she couldn't remember a time when he'd been nervous.

It felt like something was shifting between them, but she didn't know what it was, or why. She'd been meaning to ask him about it, and was tempted to say something now, but she decided to put it off until a different time. He was obviously tired, and she could feel exhaustion from the day's activities begin to seep into her bones, as well.

So she began her walk down the hall anew, letting her side brush against his as she passed. When she got to the bathroom door, she paused, and turned back towards him.

She found him still in the same position, facing away from her, leaning against the wall outside of Judith's room.

"Hey, Rick?"

He turned his head and looked over his shoulder at her.

"Yeah?"

"You have a pretty good voice. For a country bumpkin, at least."

He laughed lowly, and again, she saw him blush.

"Momma?"

Judith's voice breaks Michonne from her reverie. She looks down at her daughter, who's staring up at her with big, hazel eyes, a small frown on her face. She looks a bit nervous, and Michonne knows that's her fault. She encourages mentioning Rick whenever possible in their household, to keep the memory of him potent and vibrant. But, depending on how she's feeling - on how much grief is swallowing her in that day or time - her reactions differ. Sometimes, she and Judith will smile together as they remember. At others, tears well up in her eyes, and some spill over.

Sometimes, she has to leave Judith and go to the next room to let out the sobs collecting in her chest.

And she knows that Judith is waiting, now, for what she'll do next. If she'll laugh, or cry, or even retreat. Michonne's heart breaks, and she quickly moves to reassure the girl.

"I probably can't sing it as good as Daddy did," she tries to joke.

Judith smirks.

"That's okay, Momma. Your voice is pretty, too," she tells her, reaching up and running her small hand over RJ's back.

The corners of Michonne's mouth turn up, and she closes her eyes before letting out a long breath.

Stars shining bright above you Night breezes seem to whisper, "I love you" Birds singing in the sycamore tree Dream a little dream of me

Her voice cracks on the last word, and she pauses to clear her throat. As she does, she glances over at Judith, and is startled when she sees a single tear running down her cheek. She sits up abruptly, cradling the baby close as to not jostle him too much.

"Judith?"

"Keep goin'," Judith answers.

"Are you oka-"

"Momma, keep goin'," Judith nearly begs, grabbing onto Michonne's shirt and pulling her back towards the mattress. "Please keep singing, Momma."

Michonne bites her bottom lip as worry churns in her gut, but she relents to Judith's wish and tugging. She lies back down, aligning her face with Judith's and gazing into her shining eyes.

"Keep goin'," the little girl whispers.

Say nighty-night and kiss me Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me While I'm alone and blue as can be Dream a little dream of me

Judith scoots closer to her mother, and rests her forehead against hers.

"I miss Daddy."

Another tear falls from her eyes before she closes them. Michonne's heart aches, just as much as it did on her first day without him.

"I miss him too, little bird," Michonne murmurs, taking one of her hands from RJ's back and reaching over to squeeze Judith's shoulder. She reaches up and splays her palm across Michonne's cheek.

They fall silent again, the only sounds in the room coming from RJ's slight whines. Then, Judith opens her eyes.

"Keep singing," she requests again.

Stars fading, but I linger on, dear Still craving your kiss I'm longing to linger 'til dawn, dear Just saying this

Sweet dreams 'til sunbeams find you Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you But in your dreams, whatever they be Dream a little dream of me

Michonne feels Judith's hand go limp, and as she studies her face, she finds Judith's eyes closed, her mouth hanging open, and her breaths flowing slow and steady through her lungs.

She's fallen asleep. There's still moisture on her little face from her tears, and Michonne gently wipes it away with the pad of her thumb.

Stars fading, but I linger on, dear Still craving your kiss I'm longing to linger 'til dawn, dear Just saying this

She glances down at RJ, and finds that he's settled, too, his back rising and falling against her palm with a constant rhythm.

She smiles, and casts her eyes upward, towards wherever he is.

"RJ likes it, too," she lets him know.

Sweet dreams 'til sunbeams find you Sweet dreams that leave all worries far behind you But in your dreams, whatever they be Dream a little dream of me

She gazes at her two sleeping children, and her heart fills with a warmth she hasn't felt in awhile. Again, she looks up.

"We're gonna be okay," she tells him. "I promise you, we're gonna be okay."

She takes a deep breath, allowing her whole body to relax, before closing her eyes.

But in your dreams, whatever they be Dream a little dream of me

As soon as Siddiq says it's safe for RJ to travel by horseback, she takes him to Rick.

Spring has begun to warm the days again, freeing the survivors from a harsh winter. The sun shines in splotches on her and their baby, its light interrupted by the burgeoning leaves on the surrounding trees. The water of the creek rushes by calmly as they sit on the damp ground beneath them.

"I wanted to bring him to you sooner, but I had to wait until I could take him on a horse."

She looks down at RJ as he sits on her lap, cooing and grasping a leaf Michonne had handed him. She smiles.

"I know I talk to you about him all the time. But I wanted you to see him."

She laughs self-consciously as RJ gurgles.

"I know that doesn't make sense. If you can hear me anywhere, then you can most definitely see him anywhere, too. But here I am."

RJ squeals, and wiggles on her lap. She smiles again.

"Here we are, I mean. Sorry, baby."

She's quiet for a few moments, and listens to the wind blowing through the tree branches. RJ starts to fuss, so she picks him up, and holds him in the air, facing her. She stares at him - at his angelic face, his tiny fingers, his wide, brown eyes. At his chubby cheeks, kicking feet, and dark curls that get longer by the day.

"Look what we made, Rick."

She brings RJ to her, cradles him against her body, and begins to sway back and forth. RJ hums and babbles contentedly, and she closes her eyes and leans her head against him, snuggling with the baby. With their perfect, little person.

She feels a tear run down the side of her face.

"Look what we made."

A/N: There ya go!

There are a ton of amazing versions of Dream a Little Dream of Me. The versions by Ella Fitzgerald and Mama Cass are the ones referenced in this chapter, and I also recommend the versions by Dala and Renee Dominique.

The line, "We're gonna be okay. I promise you, we're gonna be okay," is from This is Us on NBC. And I've actually used it before in one of my stories (Newton's Third Law), but I just like it a lot, okay? Don't throw things at me.

The next chapter is going to be weird and probably on the short side, since it's gonna be a sort of very vague navigation through a very long time period (6 years, anyone?). I hate to skip so much story, but we have things to get to, right? ;)

xoxo, Rebekah

[stonyverse]

Favourite avengers movies scenes? Favourite iron man movies scenes? Favourite captain America movies scenes?

Omg, you have no idea how hyped I am because you're the first person who asked me so thank you for that. Anyways, you are in for a long ride because I won't be able to shut up about this.

1. Iron Man movies

Fave scene in IM1, I am Iron Man. That was the line that made MCU a different universe. I think they were gonna follow 616 (based on Tony's prepped statement courtesy of Phil) until RDJ disregarded the script and just opted to say that.

You see Nat going from playful to serious master assasin mode because her best friend is in danger. That scene basically shows that they will do everything for each other (FACT PROVEN IN ENDGAME). Basically, I loved all of Clint and Nat's scenes (kinda a low-key Clintasha shipper) in the first movie. I absolutely love their friendship and how it's portrayed in the MCU in its entirety. I mean I would've preferred that they be a couple but their platonic love for each other is what really got me to burst into tears in Endgame.

Whenever I watch that scene in IM1, I always find myself shaking my head and smiling because of how unbelievable Tony is. A part of me thinks he said that just so he could fuck with Christine Everhart and the other part of me thinks that he said it because he wants to tell people that you can be a superhero, no matter who you are and what your past is. It makes me think that way because before declaring that he's ironman he says that he's not a superhero because of his list of character defects.

In IM2, fave scene is Nick and Tony's talk in the latter's Malibu mansion. The whole conversation about Howard Stark. It highlights the fact that Tony never really got to know Howard. We all know he was a bad father to him but I kinda have mixed feelings about it. I mean, we see our parents as parents until we get to know who they are outside of being that. Personally, I'm just knowing who my mom is, now (I'm 20). Tony never really got that (part of the reason why that scene where Tony meets Howard in Endgame was important, for me).

And IM3, I don't have a specific favorite scene but I love its concept. I loved the fact that they showed Tony having anxiety attacks and PTSD and how he got through that. It's one of the things that made him human and so relatable.

I have to confess that I didn't see any CA movies until 2016. I only watched it because Tony was in CA:CW then I watched CA:TWS before watching CA:TFA. Basically, I watched it in reverse. 😂😂

I also loved the fact that the person who got him through it was Harley, a kid who became Tony's sidekick during that time. God, I don't really know how to explain how important it is to me, it's something that I can't put into words but I REALLY FELT THAT.

2. Captain America movies

CA:TFA, hands down to Steve and Peggy's last conversation. My god, that was heartbreaking. I've always been a sucker for what-could've-beens and almost love stories and they really reflect that. I sympathize with the both of them so much because they have to live with that heartbreak for the rest of their lives. It will always be the one bittersweet thing that they will carry. But the one my heart really aches for is Peggy.

I have a lot of favorite scenes from the avengers movies. I really loved the scene in A1 where Phil pulls Nat from a mission because Barton's been compromised.

I mean just. look. at. that! Holy shit, that grimace and half smile that she does. That's the face of a woman who can't get mad at the man she loves for leaving because the reason of said man for leaving her is the same reason that made her fall in love with him. It's kinda of like the look Pepper gives Tony in Endgame when the latter talks to the former about the time gps.

I'll put it on the list is easily my fave part in CA:TWS. It shows Steve doing everything he can in order to adjust to this world. It shows him moving forward.

And for CA:CW, it's Tony's presentation at MIT. Yep, loved that. It echoes with his character development.

For A:AOU, I'd say Fury having dinner with the Avengers. I think that's when he says I have you, guys, I have nothing to worry about. We know that AOU takes place after the falling of SHIELD and Nick doesn't really have all the resources that he had before but he still believes. He knows that these are the people who will save the world because they see it as something that they have to do. These are the people he watched closely and saw grow. We all know how the Avengers Initiative came to be after Captain Marvel and saw how soft Fury is back in the 90s and during the dinner in AOU, I see it as a parallel. I've always loved Fury and have always wanted to see how he came to be and who he was before SHIELD fucked him up, you know? And that scene in AOU really gave me a glimpse. I see him as the tough loving dad of the avengers.

(I got the gif from google and it says it's from bitony's tumblr so credits!)

It shows how much he wanted to help people with mental health issues because he's been there and he knows how hard it is so he wants to do everything he can to make it easier. It's for the people who finds it hard to talk to a psychiatrist so in order to contribute, he created a noninvasive tech that helps deal with that (that's why I stan one man, why I can't understand people who calls him selfish).

(P.S. CA:CW could easily be IM4, let's be real)

3. Avengers movies

A:IW honestly fucked me up (they dusted some of our faves!!!). Buuuuuuuut, I'm gonna say the Okoye-Nat team up. THAT SCENE GOT ME LIKE:

BC I LOVE OKOYE AND NAT SO MUCH!!! And to see them - these two powerful women of MCU who deserves more recognition - team up against the enemy, I swear, the BDE radiating from them.

(Additional stuff: what made me love Okoye way more is during that scene BP where W'Kabi was like would you kill me, my love? And my girl's like for Wakanda? Without question. I literally sobbed during that scene bc it hit me so much, I'm like I feel you, it just shows how much Okoye loves her country and that spoke to me)

SPOILERS AHEAD.

AS FOR ENDGAME, GOD DAMN, I LOVED EVERY MOMENT. It's easily my favorite Marvel movie. Stevetonies won in that movie, Clintasha shippers won, Thorbruce shippers won. It's basically a service to the people. I know some have been hating on it (especially on Steve's ending) but I think tied everything up.

Endgame's opening scene was Clint teaching his daughter archery. That was so soft for me. The last we saw him was CA:CW (and tbh, I didn't like him in that movie bc he's such an asshole to Tony, like the things he said cut deep) and then now we know he's on house arrest just like Scott and being happy with his family. I loved how normal it was bc that normalness made it so painful when they disappeared. Then we saw Clint become Ronin. It's a parallel, to me, because it shows that the good can be bad. It showed us flaws and that losing someone really brings out the worse in us. But he's storyline also showed how much a bad person can change with the help of other people.

Now, let's talk about Nat and Tony, let's be real, those two heroes started it. I mean, sure, Downey really started the MCU but Scarlett immediately followed him (IM2). To see their characters' journey end meaningfully by saving their families and creating a better future for the world, I gotta say, it may not be the ending we wanted (bc we want everyone to live) but they died doing what they love most, you know? They died knowing that they made a better future for everyone. And if they're gonna go, they have to go like the hero they truly are.

For Steve's arc, I'm not mad at it. I actually smiled when I saw how happy he was with Peggy. I would have wanted for him to stay in the present but I kinda get why he did it. I know it doesn't really reflect the comics (since Steve grew to love the 'future' in there) but MCU is a different universe. Steve's always been selfless, always puts the world's interest before his so to see him finally putting himself first by following Tony's advice (back in AOU) makes me understand. Like, okay, finally, this guy does something for himself.

I LOVED THOR. I know a friend of mine thought that Thor was a laughing stock during Endgame but I deemed him gaining weight as an important arc his character. Thor lost everything: Friga, Odin, Loki, Asgard, Heimdall, the people he's supposed to lead... Then he failed to stop Thanos because he didn't go for the head. He thinks he failed, he thought it was fault. He became an alcoholic, he was depressed but hides it behind jokes. I feel like somewhere in there he thought he wasn't worthy anymore. That's why he doesn't use stormbreaker, anymore. That's why for the last 5 years, he's 'not' the god of thunder. Also the reason during time heist, when he was able to call for mjolnir, it made me smile from ear to ear. Thor's endgame arc proved that no matter how depressed you are or how much of a failure you think you are, you're still worthy.

Bruce, Brucie-bear, Bruce... finally, he learned to accept Hulk. At first, I thought it was funny that he's Bruce and Hulk at the same time but the more I think about it, the more I saw how much Bruce grew. I mean, flashback in A1 when Tony told him to accept the guy and think of them as one instead of two different people, I remember how much he hated that idea because he sees himself as a monster and then in Endgame, we see him finally accepting his demons and actually became a better person because of it. Like, it really reflects how things would become better if we just embrace and love ourselves for who we are, you know?

THAT'S ABOUT EVERYTHING.

(credits to the owners of the gifs and photos!!!)

[tried-to-write]

We Got Married (but maybe I don’t wanna be)

Pairing: MoonSun

Summary: She did it for the publicity, it was a pretty well known show after all.

or

Yongsun, Byulyi, and Eric through WGM.

Chapter: 2/3 - Moon Byulyi

Links to alternate websites if you don’t like reading on tumblr: AO3 AFF

Yongsun was going to get married to a man, a stranger.

Byulyi had never felt that life was unfair more than she did at that moment.

Sure, it wasn't a real marriage. But it still hurt, the reminder that she would never be the one to stand on the other end of the aisle from the one she loved, her best friend, just for being who she was.

Byulyi felt like she was being torn apart internally, but she also couldn't deny that it was good publicity and decided that she would support Yongsun who had chosen to do it. So she put on the largest grin that she could muster and cheered on her unnie.

The initial few days after Yongsun officially accepted the offer were the hardest. Byulyi couldn't help feeling betrayed, even if she kept telling herself that it was all for business. So, Byulyi withdrew herself from her unnie, not wanting to accidentally hurt her in any way, attaching herself more to the two younger ones instead.

The ever observant maknaes noticed, of course, how dismissive Byulyi was towards their leader. They confronted her one day, after Yongsun had left on her own for a meeting with the managers. They noted her strange behaviour, wondered if their unnies had yet another fight.

Not for the first time, Byulyi considered revealing her (not so) little crush to the two girls. She trusted these girls with her life, had spent a good portion of it with them. In the end, she held back and told them a heavily downplayed version of her story, hiding her romantic feelings behind a veil of platonic friendship.

She hated herself for being such a coward, hated lying to two of her best friends. But, she wasn't even out to them yet, let alone willing to potentially ruin their whole group dynamic. Despite their continuous shows of support for the LGBT community, Byulyi told herself that it wasn't the right time.

The two girls listened and comforted her with sympathetic hugs. They reminded her of the upcoming comeback and encouraged her to make up with Yongsun soon.

She took their concerns and words of advice to heart and the following day, Byulyi greeted her unnie with a hug.

What she had not expected was for Yongsun to pull her in closer and whisper in her ear how much she'd missed her. Byulyi was left sputtering in response, face blazing as the leader giggled amusedly.

This weird behaviour continued on for the rest of the week. Yongsun would suddenly grab her hand or wrap her in a hug. Byulyi was sure that there was something wrong with Yongsun. She couldn't say that she hated it though.

---

Byulyi had to hide her disdain watching the fake couple when she appeared on the show several times to react. She watched as they did things that Yongsun had only done with her before, or things they hadn't, things they planned to do together... And when did they get so casual with hugging and holding hands?

Byulyi had to constantly remind herself that the relationship she was seeing on screen wasn't real. Still, her chest grew tight as she saw the couple get closer.

Byulyi did think that Yongsun looked uncomfortable with all the displays of affection. But then again, how would she know when she'd never seen Yongsun like anyone romantically before?

(Didn't know that she had seen it before, every time they looked into each other’s eyes)

Byulyi answered every question the panel had on Yongsun proudly, not able to hold herself back from showing off how well she knew her unnie. She wanted so much to proclaim how much better she would be with Yongsun instead of that Eric Nam, but knew it was a dumb idea. Instead, she sat there quietly, only laughing and commenting at the appropriate times.

No matter how much Byulyi didn't like it, she could still see that Eric was a good guy. He was treating Yongsun well and all Byulyi wanted to see was her Yongkong being happy, even if it meant supporting the Ddongie couple.

(Even the virtual couple's greeting sounded so much like theirs and Byulyi couldn't help feeling a little possessive)

(“Yongdong Yoondong” would never beat “Yongkong Byulkong” and no she was not jealous) So Byulyi held back on her disdain for the situation and put on a smile as she helped her leader get ready for her dates. She tried not to feel hurt when Yongsun sent her practice videos for her wedding, instead turning it into gratitude that she trusted Byulyi enough for advice. She lied about how cute she found the couple when it was really just Yongsun she focused on each episode. She tried her best to cherish the time they spent together preparing lunch boxes, even if they were for another man.

Through all this, Byulyi hid her resentful feelings, channeling them into song lyrics instead, writing about how worthless she felt.

---

Even when you’re here, it hurts I miss you but what can I do? I don’t want to make it obvious

Afraid you’ll find me pitiful, yeah

I’m so worthless, worthless, yeah

---

Whenever Eric was brought up yet again in press conferences or interviews, Byulyi worked hard to steel her jaw and keep her mouth shut as her leader laughed abashedly. Was their relationship really that interesting? Last time she checked, they were promoting for Mamamoo, not We Got Married.

Byulyi knew she was being petty and unreasonable but she couldn't help her exasperation.

These feelings turned out to be more serious than she had thought and she couldn't help the words that burst from her lips in yet another fight with her unnie.

The fight had started small, arguing over dumb things was a standard in their relationship. But all the pent up frustration and insecurities over Yongsun's relationship with Eric Nam that Byulyi had built up inside of her found it the perfect time to make themselves known. She lashed out at the leader, shouting things she didn't mean and accusing her of things she didn't believe.

And Yongsun shouted back, Byulyi knew she would. The leader would never let herself be accused with false allegations. Then Byulyi was suddenly out the door and finally freeing the tears that had built up behind her eyeballs, the guilt from fighting with her best friend eating at her from the inside. She wanted so badly to just go back in and apologise to the woman, accepting whatever scoldings might await her. But Byulyi was too worked up and heartbroken and maybe a little messed up because she actually didn't want to be on good terms with her unnie at the moment, didn't want to keep pretending that she was okay, and so she left it there and walked off.

An hour later, the door in front of her opened to reveal Wheein who looked questioningly at her as she quietly stepped into the house, eyes rimmed with red and a pack of beer in her hands.

Another hour later, empty beer cans were scattered across the floor among the two women sitting cross-legged.

“Wheein-ie...” Byulyi whined, dragging out her name.

“What do I do...? She definitely hates me now. You should've seen her face, she was so angry. But also hot. So hot . How can anyone look that hot when they're angry? Seriously... I slammed the door on that pretty face! Slammed! On her face! Now I'm angry at myself. Oh man, what if she doesn't want to talk to me anymore after this? Or worse, what if she doesn’t want to see me again? That would be hell...” Byulyi drunkenly rambled, leaning her forehead on Wheein's shoulder

“Wheein-ah, I can't live a life without Yongsun..!” Byulyi wailed in anguish, turning her head to cry into Wheein's neck.

Wheein sighed, bringing a hand up to sympathetically pat the older woman's head. “Get your shit together, Byulie-unnie. You know that she could never hate you, right?”

“You're right, she's too nice for that… And I still hurt that precious sunshine with my stupid words! Wheein, I'm such a terrible person!” Byulyi bawled.

Byulyi suddenly grabbed onto Wheein’s hand, flattening it against her chest. “Do you feel that? There’s nothing, is there? That’s because I’m heartless!”

She promptly let go of Wheein’s hand and burst into tears.

Wheein lifted an eyebrow at the silly display in front of her. After just a brief explanation of what happened, and then close to an hour of overdramatic blabbering about the same thing, her patience was starting to wear thin.

“I think you should just tell her.”

“Tell her what?”

“That you like her.”

Byulyi blanched. It was almost comical how wide her eyes grew and Wheein had to stifle a laugh.

“How- how did you know? Oh my god, Wheein-ah, are you psychic?”

“Um, unnie, it's pretty obvious.” Considering all the flirting, touching, and longing stares. “Hyejin and I have been suspecting it for a long time.”

“But I thought I was hiding it pretty well… I never even told you I was gay. Holy crap, do you think Yongsun can tell too then?” Byulyi started to hyperventilate. “She definitely, definitely hates me now.”

“Unnie, do you seriously think she would judge you for that? Anyway, Hyejin and I are pretty sure she's bisexual.”

“Do you mean that or are you just saying that because I happen to like her?”

“Unnie.”

“Alright, alright, sorry. But this is really bringing my hopes up and my heart is beating unhealthily fast right now.”

Byulyi knocked back a shot of soju and moved to refill her glass, only to realise that the soju bottle was suddenly in Wheein's hands. "You've drunk enough today. It's time to stop," Wheein said as she screwed the bottle cap back on and placed the bottle down an arm's length away. It was just out of reach of the inebriated woman who had too hazy a mind to think to just move to take it. Instead, Byulyi grumbled incoherently before draping herself across Wheein's lap, folding her arms and pouting. Wheein chuckled and gently pushed the woman off onto the floor, standing up and bringing the bottle with her to the kitchen. "No..! Wheein-ie don't leave me..." Byulyi whined. "You can survive the 10 seconds I'm away from you, and I'm like a metre away," Wheein called out, voice muffled by the concrete wall between them. A few seconds later, Wheein emerged carrying a glass of water in each hand. She placed one down in front of Byulyi who was still frowning at being abandoned.

“Come on, unnie. Drink some water.”

“No.”

Wheein sighed. “You'll feel better in the morning.”

“No.”

“Alright, well, I'm going to go sleep now. It's pretty late and we still have practice tomorrow.”

“Okay, and I'll sleep here, in the living room, away from you.”

Wheein had to hold back from slapping herself in disbelief. “Right. I'll wake you up in the morning.”

Before closing the door to her room, Wheein turned back and said, “By the way, I'm sure everything will be fine in the end, especially since it's you two. So don't worry too much about it, ‘kay?”

She gave a dimpled smile and shut the door.

Byulyi stuck her tongue out at the closed door and moved to the couch to finally sleep.

(She was tremendously grateful to Wheein the next morning)

---

It took less than a week of half-hearted perseverance before Byulyi relented, as she usually did whenever Yongsun was involved. She didn’t know how much she had missed the other woman’s embrace until she was finally in Yongsun’s arms again.

---

When Mamamoo was invited to guest star in an episode, Byulyi didn’t miss the worried glances cast at her by Wheein. She mustered a weak grin and a thumbs up that didn’t seem to convince anyone by the look on Wheein's face. But it was still a job, and it still had to be done to the best of their ability.

They got ahold of the Ddongie couple's schedule and planned their surprise visit behind their clueless leader's back. They thought of ways to get the couple closer and came up with games, already scheming their winning strategies. They loved to see their unnie put in uncomfortable situations.

She didn't expect how much harder it would be in real life. Watching them get along in person hit her hard in the chest

Byulyi volunteered to be the game referee, unsure if she would actually let herself beat the couple if she were a part of the games. Her mind went blank when she saw Eric place his lips on Yongsun's cheek. Reminding herself that there were cameras filming, she forced herself to smile and cheer for the couple.

She thought she could win an award for her acting.

It felt almost difficult to leave the place, knowing that she would be leaving Yongsun to sleep together with another man. Sure, there was cameras everywhere so there was almost no chance of anything happening and she had nothing to worry about. But Byulyi still felt uneasy, missed the nights she spent huddled under the covers beside the older woman. Their schedules had been packed and while they saw each other almost every day, there was less time for simply hanging out, just the two of them.

It must have hurt her more than she'd thought it did because she started tearing up soon after they returned to the RBW building. She didn't even realise it at first, not until cries of “Byulie unnie! Are you okay?” reached her ears and brought her back to reality. She noticed first the worried looks of the people around her, then the ever familiar feeling of tears trickling down her cheeks.

Their manager was at a loss on how to react and, after making sure she was not needed, left to give her some time alone with her teammates who were much better at calming her down.

Tears kept spilling uncontrollably from her eyes no matter how much she tried to hold them back which was frustrating her to no end and only served to produce more tears. Her teammates embraced her as she sat on the floor and wept and she clung onto them like they were her lifeline. They stayed in that position till her cries reduced to just the occasional sob.

Byulyi was embarrassed by her breakdown. She didn't like crying in front of others, felt that it made her seem weak, vulnerable. But she knew her members loved her and would never judge her for it. She had restrained herself from showing anyone how upset she was at the situation, tucking away her feelings because she knew they would just be a burden. It was kind of relieving to finally let it all out.

“Unnie, are you feeling better?”

“Yeah I- ” Byulyi paused to sniffle. “I think so.”

“I'm so sorry, I didn't think that you were that affected by them,” Hyejin said, arms going around Byulyi again in another hug.

“It's fine, I didn't think so either.”

“Still, I should have known…”

“You couldn't have known, it's not your fault. If anything, it's mine,” Byulyi let out a hollow laugh. “I thought that if I saw them together, saw how happy he made her... Then maybe I could get over my feelings.”

A wry smile briefly appeared on her face before she continued, “But it didn't work. And now I'm disappointed in myself for being so selfish that I couldn't just be happy for her.”

There was a moment of silence in the room before Hyejin raised an eyebrow. She lifted a hand to knock Byulyi on the head. “Unnie, that's gotta be the most stupid idea I have ever heard from you, and I've heard a lot!”

Byulyi frowned at her junior and rubbed the stinging spot on her head. “Hyejin, that's not helping,” she grumbled.

“She's right though, unnie. And it's just as dumb that you think that you're selfish for not wanting to see the person you like being romantic with someone else,” Wheein chipped in.

Byulyi blinked at her two friends before finally sighing.

“Alright, alright,” Byulyi raised both her arms in surrender. “I got it. I don't need you two to gang up on me.”

The two childhood friends glanced at each other with serious expressions before swiftly high fiving.

Byulyi lifted the corner of her mouth in a half smile, hands lowering as the overwhelming feeling of gratefulness hit her.

“Thank you for this.”

“You know we'll always be here for you, unnie.”

There was a moment of tenderness as the girls shared another hug and soft smiles were exchanged…

“But I'm kinda hurt that you told Wheein but not me, though.”

The three girls burst into laughter.

---

The manager gave them the rest of the day off, told them that they did a good job with filming earlier. It was days like these that Byulyi felt truly appreciative of all the supportive people in her life.

After a restless night, Byulyi gave up on sleeping and went to practice early. Dancing had always been a way for her to clear her head and she let herself be immersed in the flow of movements, her body moving to the rhythm of the music.

The sound of the door opening was drowned out by the music but the reflection of a familiar face in the peripheral of Byulyi’s vision caught her eye and she halted in her movements. Byulyi hadn’t really been prepared to face her leader so soon and thought that Yongsun would even be late that day considering how filming had gone on overnight. Mentally bracing herself for the imminent conversation, she moved to turn off the music.

“Byul-ah, what are you doing here so early?”

Byulyi’s heart rate sped up and she wasn’t sure she could blame it entirely on her dance routine.

“I could ask you the same, Yongsun-unnie,” Byulyi said, reflexively averting her eyes as she deftly avoided the question. She wasn’t really in the mood to talk to the woman who she had been trying to forget when she came in earlier, but said woman obviously had other plans. Byulyi focused her eyes on the wall beside her instead, unable to meet the other woman’s eyes, and so missed the flash of annoyance on Yongsun’s face.

“Filming just ended so I came here early. Now it's your turn to answer the question.”

Byulyi didn’t really want to but could hear the tone of irritation in Yongsun’s voice and reconsidered.

“... I couldn't sleep,” she yielded after a moment.

“Byulie, look at me. What's wrong?”

Byulyi felt a pang in her heart at the gentle tone and finally looked up into her leader’s eyes. It turned out to be a mistake as her guilt just worsened upon seeing those concern-filled eyes directed right at her. Those eyes had always been a weakness of hers. Byulyi could feel herself about to burst and let out a deep breath, resigning to her fate as she forced the words out of her mouth.

“I was jealous,” she blurted out. “Of Eric.”

“I just- I'm the one who's always been with you, but now he's the one who's exploring new places with you and doing new things with you when- when-” Byulyi scrambled for the next words to say.

Her heart pumped fast and hard in her chest as she held the words she knew she wanted to say at the tip of her tongue. Her brain told her that those words could ruin their friendship forever. However, the previous night's talk came to the forefront of her mind and lingered.

Byulyi finally decided to just go for it and said, “When it should be me.”

Her shoulders drooped. She couldn’t bear to look at the leader’s face, afraid of what she would find.

There was a long period of silence in the room and Byulyi wanted to run away. But then Yongsun was suddenly embracing her and Byulyi clutched at the arms around her, afraid that the other woman would suddenly decide to leave. If Yongsun would accept her then...

“Byul-ah, you don't have to worry about losing me, okay? We'll always be the best of friends.”

Byulyi felt a stab in her chest.

“Right, just friends…” she whispered bitterly. Her leader was denser than she thought. Byulyi wanted to laugh at Yongsun, but decided to drop the subject and just enjoy the hug.

---

On the Ddongie couple’s last day of filming for that damned show, Byulyi couldn’t help rejoicing. She didn't feel as good about it when she saw how sad Yongsun actually was about the whole thing ending, but she still felt a little lighter. No matter how she felt about the situation, Byulyi was still grateful to Eric for providing her unnie a pleasant experience on the show.

It wasn't all over yet though, as there was one last event to be attended: the MBC Entertainment Awards Ceremony. Byulyi held it in the back of her mind as they were doing final preparations for their own event.

During a lull in activity, as they took advantage of the chance to rest their legs before having to be on their feet for a few hours, Byulyi glanced at the woman beside her in her pink-tinted dress. Said woman was typing rapidly on her phone, replying to one message or another on her SNS, not noticing or simply just used to the attention on her. She was so beautiful even with her mouth agape as she completely focused on her screen.

Byulyi took out her own phone and held it up, letting the strong urge to document the stunning woman beside her overtake her. She could never resist such urges anyway and the leader was used to it by now, usually complying with Byulyi's every need to photograph her. This time was no different.

“Unnie, look here.”

Yongsun glanced up from her phone, only to look into the screen of another. She naturally went into a pose for the camera, locking her phone screen with one hand while the other moved to lightly hold her chin, along with a gentle smile to complete the look.

Byulyi snapped several pictures, experimenting for the best angle. When she was finally satisfied, she brought her phone back to eye level, showing it first to her unnie who gave her nod of approval before returning to texting. Byulyi stared a little longer at the picture displayed on screen. Their outfits matched especially well, along with the colours and... they looked kind of like they were getting married… which reminded her of what was happening later on that night.

Perhaps out of spite (towards the man who had really done nothing wrong and towards the society that forbid two women from being together), Byulyi found herself posting the photo on their fancafe, with only the word "BEST” added on to it along with a quick caption of ‘Welcome to Byulddonie world’’ (because Yongsun was indeed her world). It didn't matter if she added the word “friend” to it, society deemed it impossible for two women to be anything more anyway, and if that's how it was then she would take advantage of the fact to be as obvious as she could.

It wasn't long before they were called out from their rest for some finishing touches before their performance. Soon, they were stepping off the stage decked out in all black. Their manager immediately pulled their leader to the side, ushering her urgently towards the exit.

Byulyi sighed as she was reminded of the other award ceremony that had already started. She had erased the upcoming event from her mind to focus on her performance. She hated that the events had such clashing schedules that Yongsun had to rush off so hastily. Almost missing the leader's absence, she hurried to catch up with the departing group, pleased that she managed to send off her unnie as she usually did.

Standing at the entrance waving her leader off, Byulyi even kept turning around as she went back in to continue waving goodbye, not disappointed by the silly faces she got from her yeba in return. She went back up to join the rest of the members in the waiting room, chatting with them for a bit before turning on the TV in the room and switching to the MBC channel.

They were all eager to watch their beloved leader appear on the screen and cheered noisily when she actually won Best Couple Award with her fake ex-husband. They all howled with laughter (as their leader had predicted correctly) when they saw her fumbling with her words on stage, a rare sight.

After a while more, they finally wrapped up and headed home. Byulyi ultimately found herself unlocking the door to her unnie's house, washing up and grabbing some clothes she knew she had left behind last time. Stretching herself out on the familiar couch, she scrolled through her phone for a bit before eventually succumbing to the exhaustion that always came after events.

---

Byulyi jolted awake upon hearing the soft beeping at the front door. The resounding click that followed signalled the arrival of her housemate.

Muted footsteps shuffled across the floor.

Yongsun-unnie must be home, Byulyi thought drowsily. Not wanting to leave the comfort of the couch, she didn't bother getting up to check.

The footsteps halted, and the house was quiet again. The silence was lulling Byulyi back to sleep. She was just about to doze off when she heard her name.

“Byul-ah… You don't even know how much I love you.” followed by a soft chuckle.

The confession was soft and Byulyi might have missed it if the room wasn’t so quiet. But it was, and she heard it clear as day.

Her mind, still half asleep, took a moment to process what she heard.

Yongsun-unnie? How much she loves me? What does she- Yongsun-unnie loves me?

Byulyi opened her eyes and looked around the dark room blearily. The space in front of her was empty. Where did she-

The sound of the shower turning on interrupted her thoughts, coincidentally answering her question.

Letting her eyelids fall back shut, Byulyi buried herself into the back of the couch. She groaned. What did Yongsun even mean by that? Was it a friend thing? But it definitely didn't seem like a friend thing. Or was Byulyi simply just overthinking things?

She was so tired. It was so difficult to think. She decided that she'll worry about it in the morning (it's a problem for future Byulyi now) and promptly fell back asleep.

---

A/N: Has it been exactly a week? I kinda rushed some of the scenes in this chapter so I could get it out by today so sorry if it's not as good as the first chapter :’)

Stick around for next chapter where they’ll finally get their shit together… or won’t they..? ;)

[bruciewayne]

...oh my god, they were roommates!!

Q: Why won't The Winter Soldier come live in the Avenger's Tower? A: Because he has a roommate

aka the shrinkyclinks roommate au with a side of frustrated dad tony stark

(winter soldier bucky, skinny artist steve)

read on ao3

shrinkyclinks roommate au masterpost

“Roommate? What do you mean roommate?”

The Winter Soldier gave Tony an odd look, “Does roommate mean something new now?” he said, scowling. Not that Tony had seen him with any other expression, although sometimes it came with an extra helping of anger and/or annoyance.

He was scowling when they first found him in the Hydra facility, he scowled when he signed the papers to officially join the Avengers Initiative, he scowled all they way through battles and clean up. Although, Shuri had texted Tony saying that he had smiled when they’d finally undone his Hydra programming - and T’Challa had confirmed it, so it was good to know that he, in theory, could make any other expression that wasn't a scowl, but Tony had never seen it.

Tony squinted at The Soldier, “No,” he said carefully, the roommate vine playing on a loop in his head - Peter had been so disappointed when he’d found out that Shuri had introduced him to vines, and the subsequent horror that was Gen Z humour, before he could. Tony offhandedly wondered if The Soldier knew what vines were, technically, he could be classed as a millennial. Probably not. He looked over at The Soldier’s whole, demeanor, the Murder Stance™ (a sequel to the Murder Strut™) in full force, topped off with the ever-present scowl (this time, with a flavour of impatience) and decided, that no, The Winter Soldier definitely didn't know what vines were.

And now the Murder Stance™ was the Murder Strut™. Away from Tony - The Soldier had a surprisingly good ass - “Hey, hey! Manchurian Candidate, you never gave me an answer, you gonna move into the tower with the rest of us?”

The Soldier, without turning around, yelled back, “I told you, I have a roommate.”

Tony turned around and frowned at the rest of the team, “When did he get a roommate?” he muttered, not really expecting an answer.

“His roommate,” growled Fury, from behind him, talking over Tony’s squawk and his promises to ‘cat-bell’ him, “is none of your business. Why are you all still in my conference room?”

He huffed, “You gotta be paying him more if he has to have a roommate,” he knew New York was expensive, but the guy was a superhero, and he probably had like, seven decades worth of backpay.

“He’s getting paid as much as you are. Get out of my conference room.”

“I don't know how much I’m getting paid,”

“Check your books, and get out of my damn room,”

“But-”

“Out.”

Tony and the rest of the Avengers hightailed it out of there, not wanting to relive that particular day.

“Honey, I’m home,” Bucky called, as he entered their apartment, emptying his pockets of all his weapons into the basket near the door, feeling himself physically go from The Winter Soldier, ex-Hydra, ex-brainwashed, SHIELD agent and Avenger, to Bucky Barnes, sometimes drummer, sometimes mechanic, and boyfriend.

It was always so liberating, when he got home, free from surveillance, although, he wasn't naive, he was pretty sure SHIELD knew he lived here. But that better be the extent of it. He’d made sure that the surveillance and oversight clause in his Avengers papers was very clear. Matt had helped. He’d had enough of the oversight bullshit with Hydra.

“Hey,” Steve said, walking out of the kitchen, smelling of ginger and garlic and what seemed like twenty-million other spices, to greet him, kissing him on the cheek, “meeting that bad?” Bucky wrapped his arms around his middle, kissing him on the forehead when he leaned into him, “Am I that obvious?” he murmured, voice stupidly soft. The things Steve did to him, damn.

Steve laughed into his chest and tipped his head up to look at him, “You have residual annoyed-scowl on your face.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows, “Really, where?” he teased, running his hands up and down Steve's back. Steve leaned up and kissed his nose, “Here,” he kissed his cheek, “some here,” his temple, “little left here,” his jaw, “here.”

“All done?”

“Nah,” Steve leaned up and kissed his solidly on the lips, with a hint of tongue, he tasted of mango cola. “Done,” he said, in a whisper, when they pulled away, running his fingers through Bucky’s hair, pushing back his kinda quiff thing, one of the first things he’d done after he’d escaped off the helicarrier (with help from Shuri, of course) that was meant to take him from Wakanda to America, was get a haircut. He’d fucking hated the long hair.

“Mmm, you cooked?” he asked Steve when he felt he was done messing up his quiff.

“Yup,” he nodded, tugging Bucky into the kitchen, “stir-fry.”

“I knew there’s a reason I fell in love with you,” Bucky said, grinning as he let himself be dragged by Steve. They both knew very well that Bucky could easily just, not, and break out of his hold, he had at least half a foot, maybe eighty pounds and some bastardized version of Erskine’s super-soldier serum on him. But he let himself be dragged into the kitchen, because it was Steve.

He plated up the noodles and put them on the table, next to glasses of wine, Bucky drew him in for another kiss and pulled out a chair for him, “Smells amazing, honey,” he drawled, emphasizing his old Brooklyn accent.

Steve saw right through him, “You forget, darlin’ I’m from Brooklyn too,” he teased in a horrific impersonation of his accent.

Bucky laughed at him, “You’re horrible,”

“Aw,” Steve pouted, “I thought you were in love with me?”

“Nah, I’m just in it for the stir-fry,” he said, grinning.

“Dick.”

“Love you too, baby.”

Steve’s phone buzzed and lit up with a message, he flicked it open with his thumb, fork dangling in his mouth. Which was promptly thrown out of his mouth, landing just in front of Bucky’s plate. “Hey, hey, you ok?” Bucky asked, concerned, leaning over to rub his shoulder, comfortingly. Steve looked up at him, holding back… laughter?

“Some guy’s trying to commission me for a piece of all the Avengers,” he said once his shoulders have stopped shaking.

“Why’s that so funny?” Bucky asked, smiling, even his not-laugh was infectious.

“‘Cause he’s saying’ that he’ll pay a million dollars for it. For every piece.” He burst out laughing again. And at Bucky’s confused face, he told him that it was definitely a scam, “Bucky, I’m not, like Jack Kirby or Frank Miller y’know, I have a Tumblr and a comic run. As in one.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows, holding off telling him that he’s wrong, he had a very rudimentary idea who those people were, and Steve knew that, “Who was the person? Maybe they’re like a billionaire or something.”

Steve shrugged, “Probably not, their users’ just ‘youknowwhoiam’” he said, showing Bucky the message.

His phone buzzed again, another commission, but this time from someone he knew, “Shuri wants a commission of T’Challa falling over,” he said to Bucky, showing him the video of the King of Wakanda and the Black Panther, falling over.

“Do it,” Bucky said, laughing.

Steve put his phone down and grinned at Bucky, “Yeah, yeah I will.”

“Oh, by the way,” Bucky said, suddenly, swallowing his mouthful of noodles quickly, “Stark asked me to move into his frat house, again.”

“Y’ thinkin’ of leavin’ me, soldier?” Steve teased, hooking his foot around Bucky’s ankle.

Bucky smiled at him, “Nah, but I said that I have a roommate,” he didn't want Steve to think that he was ashamed of him or something, he was so, so happy to live in a time and a country where a man with another man wasn't cause for a trial and a jail cell, or fear of being beat up in a nondescript alleyway. He told Steve all of this, months ago, when Steve asked if he was ok telling his colleagues about them.

“Why?” Steve asked, curious, not judging him.

“Well, y’know back in the dark, dark ages,” Bucky began, leaning forwards to take Steve’s hand across the table, “we used to say ‘roommate’ instead’a boyfriend, ‘cause, y’know.”

“Dark ages, yeah,” Steve murmured, playing with Bucky’s fingers, “so it was, what, a reflex?”

“Yeah, something like that, I don't know how much I want them knowing so much about me,” Bucky said, quietly, he knew that he should trust them, but, he was still the new guy. Steve smiled at him and kissed his cheek, “That’s ok, it’s fine if you don’t wanna tell them, take as long as you need.”

He did not deserve him. At all. He’s been so, so patient with him, with his goddamn laundry list of issues and problems. Fucking hell he loved him.

“So, James, Jamesy, who is this ‘roommate’ of yours?” Tony asked, shooting at a doombot. “Not the time, Stark,” The Soldier growled, tearing the head off a bot.

-

“You hurt?” Steve asked, as soon as he came home. Bucky smiled tiredly at him, pulling him into a hug, the battle was too close to the offices where Steve had a meeting today. Steve got that and let Bucky hold him for as long as he needed.

“Nah,” he said, finally, into Steve’s hair, “but, Stark asked me about you,” he pulled away to kiss him lightly on the cheek. “What’d you say?” he asked, smiling up at him, leaning into his touch as he pushed his fringe off his face. Bucky gave him a look, “He asked in the middle of destroying a doombot.”

=

“Who’s your roommate, Soldier?” Natasha asked, carefully tilting her head to the side in a crafted curiosity and tipping her chin up in a challenge, hoping that the soft lighting of the bar and the intimate setting, with only the team and a couple close friends, would help him open up. The Soldier smirked, almost smiled condescendingly, “Nice try Romanoff.”

-

“Romanoff asked about you today,” Bucky said, over dinner, “she did the whole, ‘you can trust me, this is a safe-space’ bullshit, soft lighting and all.” Steve hummed, taking a sip of cola, “Very homely, what’d you tell her?” “A fairly PG version of ‘fuck off’” Bucky said, stealing Steve’s drink.

=

“Hey Frosty, who’s the roommate?” Clint asked, wiping a towel across the back of his neck and draining half a water bottle. He looked over his shoulder at Clint, rubbing a hand through his hair, “Beat it, Legolas.” Legolas? Who’d taught him that?

-

“Barton asked about my mysterious roommate today,” Bucky said, apropos of absolutely nothing, after his… uh, second work out of the day, after a couple minutes of silence. Steve rolled on top of Bucky, and pressed kissed to his neck, “Yeah, what’d you say?” Bucky hummed and ran a hand down his back, “Called ‘im ‘Legolas’,” he said, smiling proudly. Steve laughed, “You're cute when you think you're being funny.”

=

“So, James,” Bruce started, pushing a cup of green tea towards him, “you’ve made some friends outside of the team right?” “What the fuck is this, it tastes of grass.”

-

“Banner today,” Bucky said, when Steve asked how his day went. “You should call your teammates by their first names,” Steve suggested, knowing what Bucky was on about. He just grunted in response, “Nah, they all call me ‘James’ or ‘Barnes’ or ‘Soldier’ or something cold ‘n ice-y, they think they’re funny.”

=

“Who’s this roommate of yours, Cable?” Sam asked, spinning around in his chair and drumming his fingers on the table. “Keep writing your notes, Freedom Pigeon.”

-

“Freedom Pigeon,” Bucky grunted, flopping down on Steve’s lap, narrowly missing poking his eye out Joker-style, humming happily when he ran his hands through his hair. “You need a haircut,” he commented, pushing his hair back and letting it flop over his face. He looked younger, like that, more innocent, with longer hair, flopping all over his forehead.

Bucky just hummed sliding his eyes shut, “Would you be ok, if I said something about us?” he asked, nervous, even though they had talked about it before, and Steve was a hundred percent on-board with it, but he wanted to make sure.

Steve bent down and kissed his forehead, “You know I would, Buck.”

=

“Uh, hey, Mr. Barnes, everyone’s talking about this roommat-” a weedy SHIELD lackey asked, just as he was about to leave the building for the day “Do I know you?” He interrupted, he couldn't wait to get home, to get back to Steve. The lackey locked down at his shoes, “Mr. Stark gave me a hundred dollars to ask.” He rolled his eyes, “Tell him to try harder.”

-

“Some SHIELD lackey today,” Bucky said, tracing lines on Steve’s hip. “Stark’s really determined, huh,�� Steve said, pressing closer to Bucky and wrapping an arm around his neck, “you should troll him or something,” he continued in a mumble, fighting off a yawn. Bucky pulled away a little, considering Steve and giving him a once-over. Steve mumbled out a ‘y’ like what y’ see?’ drifting into unconsciousness.

“You ok with bein’ called a twink?” Bucky murmured, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing his shoulder. “Yup, ‘m your twink,” he giggled, face falling into Bucky’s shoulder A warm feeling spread throughout his chest, at Steve being his, and at him being all giggly and relaxed and falling asleep, so, so vulnerable in a way no-one would have been, when he was still under Hydra’s brainwashing. He was so in love with him, so, so much.

=

“So, uh, Mr. Winter, sir, or, uh, do you prefer Mr. Soldier? Uh, Mr. Stark asked me to uh, ask, who’s your roommate?” Stark’s spider-son asked fiddling with a pen, that had ‘Stark Industries’ emblazoned on the side He was fairly sure Stark didn’t make pens. Recorder, maybe transmitter. Huh.

He reached over, plucked the pen out of his hands and spoke into the near-invisible mic, “My roommate is an artist twink with whom I am in a homosexual relationship and I fuck daily.” He pressed the pen back into the kid’s hands and patted his shoulder, “Good talk, spider-kid.”

He turned around and walked straight out of the door, leaving Peter bright red and sputtering, whispering into the mic, “I think he wants you to stop asking.”

[charlyoddsox27]

its 6am, i havent slept, im bored, so im posting a list of the mercs in order of whom i like the most and reasons why, because thats something i should do i guess?

here goes

(spoilers for the comics down below but either way i think im the only person on earth who has never read them before now)

~~~

~~1. Medic~~

reasons for being my favourite:

• fucking. look. at. him. 👌

• 'mad german doctor' is one of my favourite tropes and he is a pretty bang-on satirical depiction of it

• cute-ass german accent

• he has pet pidgeons hE LOVES HIS PIDGEON PALS THEY KEEP HIM COMPANY

• healers are the most respectable class imo and since Medic pretty much started it he's automatically the best, thats how it works right?

• he sold some random persons soul to satan in exchange for a ***ballpoint pen*** and can i just say, fucking mood??? (he is literally the "i'd sell you to satan for one cornchip" meme)

• "yes, Archimedes...I couldn't agree more." *shudders* b oi .. .

• so many more reasons to love this gross old doctor so little room in Tumblrs posts.

~~2. Spy~~

reasons for being my second favourite:

• cranky, done with everyones shit, just wants to be left alone, fucking mood

• he's a spy i mean c'mon. look at the swanky-ass suit, look at the class radiating from this asshole.

• he may be a dick but he has a soft side he's just too jaded to show it most of the time (see: Scouts death in the comics?? real tears. honestly wish they'd panned that out more.)

• masks are hot tbFH--

• he enjoys a nice glass of whisky by the fireplace and so do i (fun fact: france is the biggest importer of scottish whisky in the world so its a nice touch)

• shapeshifting is fucking cool are you serious like he can just. do that. what a legend

• "i have a cyanide pill in one of my molars, if i break it then spit some in your mouth before i die, we can avoid being tortured." *'heavy' bursts in to save them* "PFFTHBTHF--"

• "SEDUCE ME."

• arrogant frenchman is one of my other favourite tropes and this is the most arrogant frenchman ive ever seen

• he's the only fully sane Merc, maybe apart from Engie.

• people love to hate him bc he's an asshole but...come on. after working with all those other weirdos for years, you'd be pretty jaded too.

• as a gross shipper, he's the easiest and the most fun (imo) to ship with Medic (rip me)

~~3. Pyro~~

reasons for being my third favourite:

• would have tied with Soldier if it werent for that one picture of them in the comics holding a puppy over their head with the most adoring expression on their mask??? good Pyro. goodest Pyro.

• doesn't do much in the comics but makes up for it in pure charm. look at that soulless face and tell me you dont love it.

• ambiguous gender ambiguous gender amBIGUOUS GENDER AMBIGUOUS GENDER. she/he/they? trans? nb? whatever you headcanon, it'll never be confirmed so its literally up to your own imagination. fucking ace, Valve 👌👌👌

• likes to burn things. god damnit. they like to burn things, guys. but they enjoy it so much, you just cant hate them, you can only feel a sympathetic joy that this precious lunatic is having fun in their own little world.

• canonically mentally ill (schizoprenia? it could be hallucinogenic drugs but i like to think its schizophrenia.)

• pretty sure they burned a pair of pedophiles in the comics. at least i think thats what those panels were insinuating. "lets open an orphanage and have an endless supply of kids to--" sounds pretty red-flaggy to me tbh. plus they were the villains so, eh?

• bludgeoned a bear to death until its skull was pulp because it insulted their special interest. you go, Pyro.

• for a few bits in the comics they have a really cute family dynamic going on with other Mercs, Soldier for example."Miss Pauling, Pyros on my side of the car." "Miss Pauling, Pyro cut off my hand." fuckin' cuties.

• when they start putting on like 50 shirts to keep warm in the Russian mountains. chubby.

• a gas mask that can function as both badass, and completely adorable.

• just. everything about them. how could you not love them. they're not in the wrong, you are. stay away from my misunderstood child and let them burn things god damnit.

~~4. Soldier~~

look I'm sorry, I love Soldier and he was gonna be tied with Pyro but that fucking puppy drawing sold me.

• absolute gold every second he speaks. he could sneeze and i'll laugh.

• such a dumbass you cant get annoyed at him for it. like. just agree with him and move on. no point reasoning with a boulder. "haha! silly Miss Pauling, thinking theres different types of blood." Medic: "haha yes! indeed, silly."

• HUTTAH *NECK SNAP*

• i'm not American and even i can see how blatantly his character mocks stereotypical Patriotic Americans™. but its so dumb and laughable, its adorable.

• EVERYTHING ABOUT HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH ZHANNA IS A BLESSING. EVERYTHING.

• the first "meet the Mercs" video i ever saw was "meet the Soldier" so he holds a special place in my heart

• (preaches about experiencing the horrors of war; has never actually been to war. shh dont tell anyone though--) *neck gets snapped*

~~5. Demoman~~

• I'm Scottish. even though his accent is absolute garbage (no offense to the VA), any representation is very nice.

• Black AND Scottish?? i mean has a character like that even existed before TF2??? amazing example of representation right there. there are barely even any black people in Scotland, how did this happen. I love it. more of this, please.

• he's a drunk guy who blows shit up for shits and giggles and god I wish I could too, sounds like a miracle stress-reliever.

• his sassy black scottish mother. combining the stereotypical black mother with the stereotypical scottish mother is literally the best thing that ever happened.

• the bit in the comic where Medic explains that Demo can't remember what happened to his eye bc he scooped out part of his brain, and the look on Demo's face. just. the look.

• again, he's scottish, he's stereotypical, and he's awesome.

~~6. Sniper~~

• underrated

• piss jars. piss jars everywhere.

• "no dad, im not a crazed murdering lunatic, I'm an assassin. ...well one's a job and the other's mental sickness!!"

• "meet the Sniper" has kickass music

• ruffled gross old man who isn't actually old, he's just seen some SHIT

• actually given development in the comics + some really good scenes with Spy.

• so suave...so...handsome. handsome ruffled bushman. me like.

• he dies first in the comics but gets brought back and gets a cool-ass scar. and then he's just walking around naked everywhere for the rest of the comic. Medic, where the fuck did you put his clothes.

• isn't actually Australian. thats like one of the biggest twists in the comic. "no wonder i was never inhumanly strong and my chest hair didn't grow into the shape of Australia!!" Classic.

• says "bugger" a lot and i love that word

• he needs a hug, let me hug him. and give him a bath.

~~7. Heavy~~

I'm gonna be crucified for putting the big lad so low but i promise i dont dislike any of the Mercs. he'd be higher up but...ive never really liked big huge tank-men tbh :/

• loveable as fuck

• will murder you if you bully his puny little Medic

• i looove Russian accents omfg

• he like big gun. i can respect that.

• when Medic was killed and he went APESHIT on Classic!Heavy and I lost my fuckin' mind over that shit

• he probably has a soft spot for small cute animals. i love imagining him being swarmed by Medics flock of doves and petting them like "good bird...so many good bird..."

• actually smarter than people give him credit for???

• i really really wish his character was a lil more fleshed out but. that's just me. i love him but he doesn't have the same appeal to me as Medic or Spy.

• his entire relationship with Medic...ugh. yes. best friends and/or boyfriends. all good to me 👌

• he named his gun Sasha and that's adorable

~~8. Engineer~~

• gOD, FUCK, I REALLY WISH HE DID MORE IN THE COMICS. i barely know anything about his character. i like him a lot but...god, he...he doesn't...do.....anything.......

• he built a cool robot arm for himself and AI turrets and teleporter machines and guns that fire magic healing powers and immortality machines, in the 1960s. what. some kind of wizard fuckery is this.

• smoothest voice in the west

• "y'all"

~~9. Scout~~

oh god i really am gonna be crucified. i dont hate him i just. like him the least.

• shitboy

• reminds me of a shitty ex but also kinda relateable in a way

• some genuinely funny bits in the shorts.

• gross horny hetero teen boy with a god complex and serious daddy issues. also, he can't read. the "sex bom" tattoo on his chest will be an eternal testament to that. nice job, Spy. you raised him good.

~~~

hoo boy there we go theres all the boys, all the beautiful boys (and Scout) in order of how much i love them. if i made any errors in my info about the canon, feel free to send me death threats 💙 (no seriously tell me though, being a newbie is embarrassing)

so uh. yeah. that took two hours to write. its now 8am. im still bored lol. bye i guess.

[pongpalace]

it’s a word, not a sentence (chapter 1/2)

jack zimmermann x eric “bitty” bittle, alternative meeting, photographer jack, single parent bitty, terminally ill child character

inspired by that one tumblr comic  

Jack’s had a long day.

Most of his morning was spent arguing with a client who didn’t like the way her daughter’s birth pictures turned out because Jack didn’t photoshop out the redness in the newborn’s cheeks to make her look as doll-like as possible. Then he had what had to be the longest photoshoot he’s ever had because the dad thought that one photography class at Micheal’s made him an expert on how to light Jack’s set and would make changes as he saw fit. Bouncing between trying to keep the eight-year-old’s attention so he wouldn’t strip naked—again—and fixing what the dad did without outright calling the man an idiot was exhausting and because of it, Jack worked through his lunch to edit the pictures he needed for the magazine shoot he’d done weeks before. He wasn’t happy with the results so in between his afternoon sessions, he’d open up his laptop and poke at it right up until he needed to send them off to the editor.

Squinting at his computer screen, adjusting colour balances and saturations made Jack more tired than being behind the camera so he’s feeling the long day now that he’s sat down at the front desk, without anyone else to worry about in the studio. He should be answering emails and double checking he has all the backgrounds and costumes he’ll need for his big pregnancy shoot tomorrow morning but Jack can’t bring himself to do more than stare at the clock as it counts down the fifteen minutes until he locks the door and gets to go home.

It’s a testament to how tired Jack is because he watches the clock for five whole minutes before he remembers that he’s his own boss and he technically can close his own photography studio any time he wants and no one will yell at him.

He’s just pushed himself out of his chair when the bell above the door rings, signalling someone coming in. Jack bites back a curse, but he can feel the glare on his face when he looks at the blond man and his son who just came in, bundled in their winter jackets and stomping off snow that must’ve come down sometime in the last hour.

The man approaches the front desk. “Hello, um, I know it’s almost closing time, but I have a really big favour to ask,” he says.

Jack stares for a beat, vaguely wondering what someone with a southern accent is doing this far north, in the middle of a Boston winter no less. The man colours under Jack’s stare, wrinkling his nose and in any other setting, Jack might’ve found him more than a little attractive considering his messy blond hair, freckles, and big, dark brown eyes check off everything on Jack’s list. As it is, it’s been a long day and Jack wants to go home.

“Any inquiries about bookings or appointments are usually better done over the phone, during the day,” Jack says, giving the standard response to walk-in clients and letting his voice fall flat. He doesn’t mention that the current waiting list for a shoot is at least six months.

The man winces. “Yeah, I um, I know that. I saw your website.” He pauses and looks around the studio, taking in the wall that showcases the portraits Jack’s most proud of, the series of geese postcards that Jack worked on with Lardo, and the vintage camera equipment that he has on display because it makes him happy to look at.

The man bites at his lip while he looks at the wall, and Jack is about to remind him of the studio’s hours, but then the kid peaks out from behind their dad’s legs and Jack’s heart goes into his throat.

He’s going to be staying a little bit longer.

The kid is small. His puffy jacket hangs off a thin frame, hands lost in the too-long sleeves, though he keeps pushing one up so he can hold onto his dad’s hand. He wears a bright red toque, pulled all the way down his forehead. No hair peaks out from underneath, but Jack doesn’t think it’s because they’ve tucked it up into the knit fabric. The boy and man have the same big brown eyes, matching all the way down the deep bruises underneath, though the boy’s might be a shade darker. There’s a tube taped to the boy’s cheek, feeding into his nose, the other end tucked around up into his hat before it disappears into his collar. It’s clear that the boy is very sick.

The man clears his throat, and Jack guiltily looks up from where he knows he’s been caught staring.

“Gavin saw your postcards in the hospital gift shop,” the man says. “He loves geese.” Gavin looks up and smiles big at his name, nodding as much as he can without dislodging the tube. He unzips his jacket and Jack’s heart clenches to see that he was wearing a big hoodie underneath the jacket and still looks so tiny. Gavin shoves his hands into the hoodie pocket and pulls out a folded piece of cardstock. He unfolds it carefully before standing on his tiptoes to reach the counter and push it towards Jack.

“The babies are the best,” Gavin says. His voice is rougher than any child’s voice should be, sounding like it hurts him to talk, but he’s smiling the whole time Jack looks at one of his postcards. It was one of the last shots he got that day, after having crouched in goose shit for hours to get pictures of the adults interacting, he managed get a shot of a gosling using the toe of his dirty yellow runner as a pillow.

“Yeah,” Jack says softly, looking at where he has it posted on the wall across from him. Gavin follows his gaze, grin widening when he sees it, tugging at his dad’s jacket to point it out.  

“The woman who works there says you had other things up in the hospital so on one of our good days, we went on a search and found some of your other pictures.” The man swings back around once he looks where Gavin wants.

“I like the unicorn,” Gavin says, again standing on his toes to see over the desk. He stretches to take his postcard back, almost losing his balance, but the man steadies him with a hand on his back easily.

Jack can’t think of a picture session he’s done with a unicorn, or even with the unicorn background he has, but most of what he’s given to hospitals are the landscape photography that he was really focused on while working towards opening his own studio.

“There’s a picture of a horse near the cancer ward and the shadow makes it look like a unicorn,” the man explains, smiling down at Gavin. He puts a hand on Gavin’s head and gently tugs at the toque, huffing a laugh when Gavin bats him away. He steps a little closer to Jack’s, voice lowering as he continues. “Look, I did go on your website and check for appointments and I know that y’all are booked solid for the next six months or so but-” His voice breaks. Jack’s stomach drops; six months might be too long for Gavin to wait for an appointment.

Jack looks around his desk, searching for the box of tissues he knows he keeps now that everyone has the sniffles in the cold weather. He finds them and passes the box over to the man, who takes a couple to press roughly to his eyes. Gavin reaches up and pulls on the man’s elbow until he drops his hand so Gavin can reach it. Gavin takes it and the man lets out a water breath.

Jack clears his throat, once, twice, to get past the lump he’s suddenly developed. He probably needs a tissue of his own but he blinks rapidly instead.

“Well, luckily, there’s a special promotion going on for people with these postcards,” Jack says, talking through the hoarseness in his voice that always comes when he’s feeling emotional. He leans forward over the desk to pass the postcard back to Gavin. Gavin takes it, looking up at his dad with big eyes. “I’ve been waiting all day to take pictures of someone who has one.”

“You have?” Gavin asks. He bites at very chapped lips, brow furrowed like he’s trying to figure Jack out. The directness of his stare is startling, his eyes the brightest point amongst the purples and blues of deep bruises and sharp cheekbones that don’t belong on a child’s face.

“I have.” Jack nods. “Now why don’t you take your dad back there,” Jack points over his shoulder, towards the studio he uses for kids’ portraits. “and I’ll meet you there to pick out what you want to wear in a second.”

There’s an entire wardrobe of different sized costumes, ranging from princesses to hockey players to doctors and everything in between that goes along with his extensive collection of backgrounds. It’s not as organized as it usually is when he has a session with a kid, but Jack’s more than happy to let Gavin go and chose what he wants. He might not get many more chances.

Jack locks the door while Gavin takes the man’s arm and leads him to the doorway. He’s chatting a mile a minute to his dad, but the dull roaring in Jack’s ears means he doesn’t catch any of it as he flips the lock so they’re not interrupted. He rests his forehead on the cool glass of the door, breathing in and out and in and out, while he takes a minute to compose himself. He’s not sure his bursting into tears would be productive for anyone tonight.

“Thanks for doing this.”

Jack jumps, knocking his head against the glass at the voice. He turns, feeling guilty for some reason, to see just the man leaning out of the studio doorway, eyes big with a concern Jack doesn’t feel like he deserves. He steps into the hallway.

“I’ll be right there, sorry,” Jack says, rubbing his forehead. The skin is warm to the touch, even after being pressed against the cool glass and Jack hopes he didn’t lose track of time.

“You’re apologizing for me scaring you on top of making you stay late?” The man raises a blond eyebrow.

“Er, yeah?” Jack says. He drops his hand from his forehead, and hopes he doesn’t look as stupid as he feels. The man came in here with his obviously very sick child and Jack is the one who can’t keep it together.

The man shakes his head, looking more bemused than annoyed. “Well, thank you. Seriously. This is gonna be the highlight of Gavin’s year.” He’s still smiling when he finishes, but it looks a little pinched around the edges.

“Uh,” Jack clears his throat. “Of course.” He stares at the man and the man stares back.

“I’m Eric, by the way,” the man says, suddenly. “If you wanna know who’s extended your work day.” Eric chuckles slightly, a little self-deprecating.

“Jack,” Jack replies, taking the hand Eric offers. His palm is dry but warm and a little rough. He squeezes Jack’s hands for a beat before letting go.

“Yeah,” Eric says and Jack flushes, realizing Eric must’ve known his name right from the start if he’d been able to google his website.

“Right.” Jack nods. “Er, should we?” He gestures back over Eric’s shoulder, following when Eric steps back inside the studio.

In the studio, Gavin’s found the building blocks on the low table in the corner. He’s still wearing his jacket, but he’s pushed the sleeves up to his elbows. Despite all the time Jack spends around children, he’s not great with telling kids’ ages, though it’s pretty obvious even to him that Gavin’s wrists and arms are too small for his age. He struggles for a moment to move most of a completed rocket ship that Jack’s earlier appointment left behind.

“Now I know Mr. Jack didn’t say come back here to play with the blocks.”

Eric’s voice makes Gavin jump and look guilty at his dad.

“Sorry,” he says, eyes wide. He puts the rocket down, though not before tweaking the nose slightly so it sits straighter. Jack bites back a smile.

“C’mere,” he says, gesturing over at one of the overflowing wardrobes along the back wall. The doors aren’t completely closed, different colours of tulle make it over stuffed and the bane of Jack’s existence to keep clean, and Gavin lights up when he catches sight of it fully open. “Let’s pick some things out to start with.”

With practiced hands, Eric helps Gavin tries on every single one of Jack’s costumes, guiding limbs through arm and leg holes, careful not only of the tube on the side of Gavin’s face, but also of the toque on Gavin’s head. Gavin grins at his reflection each time, twirling and running his hands over any silky fabric, before standing in front of Jack’s camera and posing like a superhero or a ballerina or whatever strikes his fancy. Jack makes sure to capture each pose. It’s the easiest photoshoot of a kid that Jack has ever done; Gavin must be the politest, most well behaved kid he’s ever met. When he says as much to Eric between costume changes, Eric snorts.

“He’s just trying to impress you so you’ll let him take some photos,” Eric says lowly. Jack twists from where he was watching Gavin pick out a princess dress by touching all the tulle to look at Eric.

“Geese are his favourite animal,” Eric repeats, shrugging. “And because photography let you get close to them, he thinks he should be a photographer to get close to them. I can’t wait till he learns about zoo-keeping.” Eric grins wryly.

It’s a challenge for Jack to tear his gaze away from Eric’s smile, somehow still the brightest thing in the room despite everything Jack knows it’s been through, but he turns away to adjust the tripod.

“What’re you doing Mr. Jack?” Gavin’s come over dressed in kid’s sized Providence Falcons jersey that still falls to his knees. He’s strapped elbow pads on over top, and is dragging the smallest hockey shorts behind him. They look giant beside Gavin.

“Making this the right size,” Jack answers, pointing at the tripod. Gavin’s brow furrows and he looks between Jack and his dad. Jack’s not sure what Eric’s doing behind him, but Gavin still looks suspicious as he takes another step towards Jack.

“Why?”

Jack crouches down to check that the tripod is level and won’t fall on Gavin.

“Can I tell you a secret?” He drops his voice into a whisper. Gavin’s still looks confused but he comes to stand right beside Jack so he can hear, still dragging the hockey pants.

“Your dad just told me that he wants his picture taken,” Jack says, whispering loud enough for Eric to hear as well. “But I’m afraid I won’t be able to do a good enough job… Do you wanna try?”

Gavin’s eyes are as big and as wide as Jack’s seen them all evening, and for a moment he just looks like an excited kid, bouncing on his toes, tubes and tiredness completely forgotten.

“Can I?”

Jack nods and turns to make sure the the tripod is properly locked in place. Satisfied nothing is going to fall, Jack beckons Gavin over and when he’s in place behind the camera, Jack points out where to look and what buttons to click.

Gavin listens and nods seriously at Jack’s easy explanation, beaming at the viewfinder screen after he takes a couple of practice shots of the empty background, a dark sparkly blue that Gavin had picked out to go with his firefighter costume.

“Look dad!” Gavin says, pulling back from the camera and almost knocking Jack in the nose in his excitement. Jack sits back on his heels to dodge anymore stray limbs, knee walking even further back when Eric comes to crouch beside Gavin too. Gavin explains everything that Jack just told him, and even though Jack is sure that Eric was listening the first time around, he nods and makes understanding sounds every time Gavin pauses for breath.

“We’ll frame some of these for Great Moomaw, what d’you say Gav?” Eric asks. Gavin blinks and thinks about the question.

“Can we print some for my room too?” he asks. “I want to see you for always.”

Jack’s lost count of the amount of times his heart has clenched painfully this evening, hating the fact that now he’s picturing Gavin’s small body in a hospital bed, but Eric hardly blinks before he answers.

“‘Course sweetpea.”

Gavin nods, satisfied.

“Let’s take some with someone in them too though, eh Gavin?”  Jack says, as he finally stands up from his crouching position, brushing dust off his knees.

“Do you want to pick out a costume for me?” Eric asks. He gently pushes Gavin back up onto his feet from where he’d been leaning back against Eric and stands, making small steps towards the row of costumes. There’s probably not much there that’ll fit him, but there’s something to be said for dads who’ll stretch a child’s costume across their shoulders to see their kid happy.

“No, I wanna remember you like this,” Gavin says, matter-of-fact like. Eric freezes, holding a pair of rainbow wings. Jack bites his tongue to keep from audibly reacting, and finally Eric’s smile breaks.

“Well, alright then,” he says softly, turning his face away from Gavin and into the closet. “Lemme just hang these back up.” He clears his throat, once, twice, and Jack has no camera to fiddle with when Gavin’s still happily taking pictures of the background, and a clear view of the first tear that falls onto Eric’s cheek. He feels absolutely helpless as Eric closes his eyes and rubs a hand roughly across his face.

Even with his eyes closed, Eric looks tired, like he’s been carrying the weight of the world for far too long on his shoulders. And he probably has, Jack realizes. He doesn’t have kids sure, but he’s still haunted by the broken expressions on his parents’ faces when he woke up in the hospital, like their whole world was on the verge of collapsing before he opened his eyes. And just from watching Eric and Gavin interact, it’s not much of a stretch to assume that Gavin is Eric’s whole world.

Jack’s heart breaks for them both.

“Daddy?”

Eric’s eyes snap open and if he catches Jack staring at him, he doesn’t say anything, twisting towards Gavin, who’s looking over a little impatiently.

“I’m coming Gav, sorry!” Eric hangs up the wings and sets himself up in front of the camera. “How d’you want me?” He poses dramatically, jutting a hip out and pouting his lips. Gavin giggles.

“No, dad,” he says. “Just smile!”

Eric straightens out of the pose. “Alright sugar,” he says, and he smiles wide, any and all traces of his earlier tiredness gone. Gavin nods and presses the shutter down. He doesn’t pause to look at the viewfinder before he takes another one and then another one. Eric’s smile doesn’t waver, in fact growing softer and more natural the longer he watches his son. Jack finds himself mirroring the expression.

Jack has no idea how many pictures Gavin takes, but when Gavin starts to flag a little—the pauses to yawn between squeezing one eye shut and pressing the other to the view finder dragging on a little longer each time—Jack pushes up his sleeve to check his watch. His eyebrows go up when he sees it’s already almost 7:30, two and a half hours after Eric and Gavin first came into his studio. Eric must be paying more attention to Jack than he thought, because he’s got his phone out and looks just as surprised as Jack feels at the time.

“You just about done Gav?” Eric asks, sticking his phone back in his pocket. He takes a step towards Gavin.

“No,” Gavin says around another yawn. He snaps a picture of Eric mid-snort but lets himself be corralled over to the costumes.

“We’ve taken up enough of Mr. Jack’s time, hey sweetpea?” Eric says. Jack wants to say that he doesn’t mind, that he’d be happy having them around for as long as they’re willing to stay, but now that Eric’s said something about the time, Jack can see how hard Gavin was fighting his sleepiness, rubbing his eyes now. He yawns so widely that Jack sees his tonsils. Eric guides Gavin’s arms out of the Falconers jersey he’s been wearing, movements still practiced and careful not to dislodge the tube under Gavin’s nose as he pulls it over his head. Gavin droops forward, resting his head on Eric’s shoulder once he’s free.

“Long day?” Eric asks, expertly balancing keeping Gavin upright and stretching to get Gavin’s sweater and jacket. He mouths “thank you,” when Jack hands them over. Jack feels warm.

“You were there, daddy,” Gavin replies, managing to sound admonishing despite speaking mostly into Eric’s shirt.

“Oh that’s right.” Eric gets both their jackets on and stands, scooping Gavin up with one arm and holding the Falconers jersey in the other. He looks between the jersey and the hanger still on the ground, brow creased, and makes to bend over again.

“I’ve got it,” Jack says quickly before Eric can move. Gavin’s little fingers grip onto the back of Eric’s collar and he’s pressed his face to Eric’s throat as best he can, blinking slowly. Jack knows what an exhausted child looks like, and that’s without factoring in how sick Gavin might be so Jack takes the jersey and throws it over his shoulder, kicking the hanger out of Eric’s path.

“Are you sure?” Eric looks around reproachfully at the tutus that are still sticking out of the closet, the props that make the prop box hard to close, and the backgrounds still leaning against the wall, ready for whatever Gavin’s next chose was going to be. Eric winces when he sees the elbow pads around the tripod that Gavin stripped off and dropped on the floor at one point.

Jack nods and tries not to blush under Eric’s scrutiny. Gavin yawns loudly in his ear.

“Alright,” Eric sighs, running his free hand over Gavin’s back. It makes a swishing sound against the puffy fabric.“Gav, what do you say to Mr. Jack?”

Gavin picks up his head. “Thank you for taking my picture, Mr. Jack,” he says, managing to hold off yawning until the end. He blinks tiredly at Jack.

“And?” Eric prompts after a beat.

Gavin turns suddenly to look at his dad, almost hitting Eric in the face in the process. He squints at Eric until Eric whispers, “taking pictures,” in his ear.

“Oh! Thank you for letting me take pictures too. It was—” he yawns. “—was really cool.”

Jack smiles. “Anytime, Gavin,” he says, holding out a fist. Gavin’s whole face brightens as Eric’s falls, but Jack doesn’t think Gavin sees the expression when he touches his little fist to Jack’s.

Jack follows Eric out of the studio, closing the door behind him and deciding to deal with the little mess tomorrow. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t have an immediate need for a clean kid’s studio, but he’ll double check later. He goes behind the desk to grab a pen and paper.

“So, if you wanna leave your email address here, and I’ll send you a link when I’ve done the edits and have uploaded them,” Jack explains, putting the paper on the counter. Eric shifts Gavin over to his left hip so he can write with his right hand. He pauses before picking up the pen, making sure Gavin’s toque is on. Gavin makes a noise in his throat, but his eyes stay closed.

“Um, do you have to edit anything?” Eric asks quietly. He sounds tired.

Jack clears his throat. “No. I can leave everything untouched.”

“Thank you.” Eric writes down his email address and then shifts Gavin again. It takes Jack a second to realise he’s reaching for his wallet.

“What are you doing?” Jack asks.

“Um, paying,” Eric says. He gives a Jack a funny look and tries to hand over his card.

“No,” Jack says. “Absolutely not.”

“What? No, you stayed late, you did so much,” Eric protests. “I know how much your shots are listed for, please charge me for that.”

“I’m not taking your money,” Jack says again, stepping back from the counter. It’s not like he’s lost any business letting Gavin take the pictures, so he can’t bring himself to put a price on the time he just spent with Gavin and Eric.

“This is a terrible way to run a business,” Eric huffs. “What’ll your boss say?”

Jack shrugs. “He’s a pushover.”

“Jack,” Eric says. He bites at his bottom lip.

“Eric, don’t worry about it. Honestly.”

Eric frowns at Jack but puts his card back in his wallet. “What’s your favourite dessert?”

That’s not what Jack excepts. “What?”

“When I have a minute, I’ll make you something.”

“Uh.” Jack looks at Eric, who’s looking back, expectant and completely serious.

“Do you like pie?” Eric asks.

“Yes?” Jack answers.

Eric nods, satisfied. “Good. I make really good pie.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jack says. “Honestly, it’s fine.”

“When I have a minute,” Eric repeats. “I will make you the best pie you’ve ever tasted.” He bounces a little, getting a better grip on Gavin. Jack doesn’t think about why or when that minute will come.

“Okay,” Jack says slowly. “I’ll uh, get those pictures up and send you the link as soon as possible.”

“Thank you Jack,” Eric says. He looks down at Gavin’s sleeping face. “Seriously. Thank you so much,” he says softly.

Jack just nods and unlocks the door so they can leave, a lump in his throat as he returns Eric’s wave after he puts Gavin into his carseat. He watches Eric walk around the car, wave one more time before getting and driving and Jack hopes with his whole heart that he sees them both again.

He locks the door and turns away from the window, hoping that he does get to see both of them again, and feeling sick at the thought of why he might now. Jack doesn’t blink away the tears this time.

[bruciewayne]

...and they were roomates!!

ao3 (use if ur on mobile kids

more works

steve and bucky are roommates. the avengers do not know this. but now they want to know who bucky's roommate is...

(mostly just domestic fluff, with a side of frustrated tony stark)

aka the shrinkyclinks roomate au

(winter soldier bucky, skinny artist steve)

“Roommate? What do you mean roommate?”

The Winter Soldier gave Tony an odd look, “Does roommate mean something new now?” he said, scowling. Not that Tony had seen him with any other expression, although sometimes it came with an extra helping of anger and/or annoyance.

He was scowling when they first found him in the Hydra facility, he scowled when he signed the papers to officially join the Avengers Initiative, he scowled all they way through battles and clean up. Although, Shuri had texted Tony saying that he had smiled when they’d finally undone his Hydra programming - and T’Challa had confirmed it, so it was good to know that he, in theory, could make any other expression that wasn't a scowl, but Tony had never seen it.

Tony squinted at The Soldier, “No,” he said carefully, the roommate vine playing on a loop in his head - Peter had been so disappointed when he’d found out that Shuri had introduced him to vines, and the subsequent horror that was Gen Z humour, before he could. Tony offhandedly wondered if The Soldier knew what vines were, technically, he could be classed as a millenial. Probably not. He looked over at The Soldier’s whole, demeanor, the Murder Stance™ (a sequel to the Murder Strut™) in full force, topped off with the ever-present scowl (this time, with a flavour of impatience) and decided, that no, The Winter Soldier definitely didn't know what vines were.

And now the Murder Stance™ was the Murder Strut™. Away from Tony - The Soldier had a surprisingly good ass - “Hey, hey! Manchurian Candidate, you never gave me an answer, you gonna move into the tower with the rest of us?”

The Soldier, without turning around, yelled back, “I told you, I have a roommate.”

Tony turned around and frowned at the rest of the team, “When did he get a roommate?” he muttered, not really expecting an answer.

“His roommate,” growled Fury, from behind him, talking over Tony’s promises to ‘cat-bell’ him, “is none of your business. Why are you all still in my conference room?”

He huffed, “You gotta be paying him more if he has to have a roommate,” he knew New York was expensive, but the guy was a superhero , and he probably had like, seven decades worth of backpay.

“He’s getting paid as much as you are. Get out of my conference room.”

“I don't know how much I’m getting paid,”

“Check your books, and get out of my damn room,”

“But-”

“Out.”

Tony and the rest of the Avengers hightailed it out of there, not wanting to relive that particular day.

“Honey, I’m home,” Bucky called, as he entered their apartment, emptying his pockets of all his weapons into the basket near the door, feeling himself physically go from The Winter Soldier, ex-Hydra, ex-brainwashed, SHIELD agent and Avenger, to Bucky Barnes, sometimes drummer, sometimes mechanic, and boyfriend.

It was always so, liberating , when he got home, free from surveillance, although, he wasn't naive, he was pretty sure SHIELD knew he lived here. But that better be the extent of it. He’d made sure that the surveillance and oversight clause in his Avengers papers was very clear. Matt had helped. He’d had enough of the oversight bullshit with Hydra

“Hey,” Steve said, walking out of the kitchen, smelling of ginger and garlic and what seemed like twenty-million other spices, to greet him, kissing him on the cheek, “meeting that bad?” Bucky wrapped his arms around his middle, kissing him on the forehead when he leaned into him, “Am I that obvious?” he murmured, voice stupidly soft. The things Steve did to him, damn.

Steve laughed into his chest and tipped his head up to look at him, “You have residual annoyed-scowl on your face.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows, “Really, where?” he teased, running his hands up and down Steve's back. Steve leaned up and kissed his nose, “Here,” he kissed his cheek, “some here,” his temple, “little left here,” his jaw, “here.”

“All done?”

“Nah,” Steve leaned up and kissed his solidly on the lips, with a hint of tongue, he tasted of mango cola. “Done,” he said, in a whisper, when they pulled away, running his fingers through Bucky’s hair, pushing back his kinda quiff thing, one of the first things he’d done after he’d escaped off the helicarrier (with help from Shuri, of course) that was meant to take him from Wakanda to America, was get a haircut. He’d fucking hated the long hair.

“Mmm, you cooked?” he asked Steve when he felt he was done messing up his quiff.

“Yup,” he nodded, tugging Bucky into the kitchen, “stir-fry.”

“I knew there’s a reason I fell in love with you,” Bucky said, grinning as he let himself he dragged by Steve. They both knew very well that Bucky could easily just, not, and break out of his hold, he had at least half a foot, maybe eighty pounds and some bastardized version of Erskine’s super-soldier serum on him. But he let himself be dragged into the kitchen, because it was Steve.

He plated up the noodles and put them on the table, next to glasses of wine, Bucky drew him in for another kiss and pulled out a chair for him, “Smells amazing, honey,” he drawled, emphasising his old Brooklyn accent.

Steve saw right through him, “You forget, darlin’ I’m from Brooklyn too,” he teased in an horrific impersonation of his accent.

Bucky laughed at him, “You’re horrible,”

“Aw,” Steve pouted, “I thought you were in love with me?”

“Nah, I’m just in it for the stir-fry,” he said, grinning.

“Dick.”

“Love you too, baby.”

Steve’s phone buzzed and lit up with a message, he flicked it open with his thumb, fork dangling in his mouth. Which was promptly thrown out of his mouth, landing just in front of Bucky’s plate. “Hey, hey, you ok?” Bucky asked, concerned, leaning over to rub his shoulder, comfortingly. Steve looked up at him, holding back… laughter?

“Some guy’s trying to commission me for a peice of all the Avengers,” he said once his shoulders have stopped shaking.

“Why’s that so funny?” Bucky asked, smiling, even his not-laugh was infectious.

“‘Cause he’s saying’ that he’ll pay a million dollars for it. For every piece.” He burst out laughing again. And at Bucky’s confused face, he told him that it was definitely a scam, “Bucky, I’m not, like Jack Kirby or Frank Miller y’know, I have a Tumblr and a comic run. As in one.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows, holding off telling him that he’s wrong, he had a very rudimentary idea who those people were, and Steve knew that, “Who was the person? Maybe they’re like a billionaire or something.”

Steve shrugged, “Probably not, their users’ just ‘you know who i am’” he said, showing Bucky the message.

His phone buzzed again, another commission, but this time from someone he knew, “Shuri wants a commission of T’Challa falling over,” he said to Bucky, showing him the video of the King of Wakanda and the Black Panther, falling over.

“Do it,” Bucky said, laughing.

Steve put his phone down and grinned at Bucky, “Yeah, yeah I will.”

“Oh, by the way,” Bucky said, suddenly, swallowing his mouthful of noodles quickly, “Stark asked me to move into his frat house, again.”

“Y’ thinkin’ of leavin’ me soldier?” Steve teased, hooking his foot around Bucky’s ankle.

Bucky smiled at him, “Nah, but I said that I have roommate,” he didn't want Steve to think that he was ashamed of him or something, he was so, so happy to live in a time and a country where a man with another man wasn't cause for a trial and a jail cell, or fear of being beat up in a nondescript alleyway. He told Steve all of this, months ago, when Steve asked if he was ok telling his colleagues about them.

“Why?” Steve asked, curious, not judging him.

“Well, y’know back in the dark, dark ages,” Bucky began, leaning forwards to take Steve’s hand across the table, “we used to say ‘roommate’ instead’a boyfriend, ‘cause, y’know.”

“Dark ages, yeah,” Steve murmured, playing with Bucky’s fingers, “so it was, what, a reflex?”

“Yeah, something like that, I don't know how much I want them knowing so much about me,” Bucky said, quietly, he knew that he should trust them, but, he was still the new guy. Steve smiled at him and kissed his cheek, “That’s ok, it’s fine if you don’t wanna tell them, take as long as you need.”

He did not deserve him. At all. He’s been so, so patient with him, with his goddamn laundry list of issues and problems.

“So, James, Jamesy, who is this ‘roommate’ of yours?” Tony asked, shooting at a doombot. “Not the time, Stark,” The Soldier growled, tearing the head off a bot.

-

“You hurt?” Steve asked, as soon as he came home. Bucky smiled tiredly at him, pulling him into a hug, the battle was too close to the offices where Steve had a meeting today. Steve got that and let Bucky hold him for as long as he needed.

“Nah,” he said, finally, into Steve’s hair, “but, Stark asked me about you,” he pulled away to kiss him lightly on the cheek. “What’d you say?” he asked, smiling up at him, leaning into his touch as he pushed his fringe off his face. Bucky gave him a look, “He asked in the middle of destroying a doombot.”

=

“Who’s your roommate, Soldier?” Natasha asked, carefully tilting her head to the side in a crafted curiosity and tipping her chin up in a challenge, hoping that the soft lighting of the bar and the intimate setting, with only the team and a couple close friends, would help him open up. The Soldier smirked, almost smiled condescendingly, “Nice try Romanoff.”

-

“Romanoff asked about you today,” Bucky said, over dinner, “she did the whole, ‘you can trust me, this is a safe-space’ bullshit, soft lighting and all.” Steve hummed, taking a sip of cola, “Very homely, what’s you tell her?” “A fairly PG version of ‘fuck off’” Bucky said, stealing Steve’s drink.

=

“Hey Frosty, who’s the roommate?” Clint asked, wiping a towel across the back of his neck and draining half a water bottle. He looked over his shoulder at Clint, rubbing a hand through his hair, “Beat it, Legolas.” Legolas? Who’d taught him that?

-

“Barton asked about my mysterious roommate today,” Bucky said, apropos of absolutely nothing, after his… uh, second work out of the day. Steve rolled on top of Bucky, and pressed kissed to his neck, “Yeah, what’d you say?” Bucky hummed and ran a hand down his back, “Called ‘im ‘Legolas’,” he said, smiling proudly. Steve laughed, “You're cute when you think you're being funny.”

=

“So, James,” Bruce started, pushing a cup of green tea towards him, “you’ve made some friends outside of the team right?” “What the fuck is this, it tastes of grass.”

-

“Banner today,” Bucky said, when Steve asked how his day went. “You should call your teammates by their first names,” Steve suggested, knowing what Bucky was on about. He just grunted in response, “Nah, they all call me ‘James’ or ‘Barnes’ or ‘Soldier’ or something cold ‘n ice-y, they think they’re funny.”

=

“Who’s this roommate of yours, Cable?” Sam asked, spinning around around in his chair and drumming his fingers on the table. “Keep writing your notes, Freedom Pigeon.”

-

“Freedom Pigeon,” Bucky grunted, flopping down on Steve’s lap, narrowly missing poking his eye out Joker-style, humming happily when he ran his hands through his hair. “You need a haircut,” he commented, pushing his hair back and letting it flop over his face. He looked younger, like that, more innocent, with longer hair, flopping all over his forehead.

Bucky just hummed sliding his eyes shut, “Would you be ok, if I said something about us?” he asked, nervous, even though they had talked about it before, and Steve was a hundred percent on-board with it, but he wanted to make sure.

Steve bent down and kissed his forehead, “You know I would, Buck.”

=

“Uh, hey, Mr. Barnes, everyone’s talking about this roommat-” a weedy SHIELD lackey asked, just as he was about to leave the building for the day “Do I know you?” He interrupted, he couldn't wait to get home, to get back to Steve. The lackey locked down at his shoes, “Mr. Stark gave me a hundred dollars to ask.” He rolled his eyes, “Tell him to try harder.”

-

“Some SHIELD lackey today,” Bucky said, tracing lines on Steve’s hip. “Stark’s really determined, huh,” Steve said, pressing closer to Bucky and wrapping an arm around his neck, “you should troll him or something,” he continued in a mumble, fighting off a yawn. Bucky pulled away a little, considering Steve and giving him a once-over. Steve mumbled out a ‘y’ like what y’ see?’ drifting into unconsciousness.

“You ok with bein’ called a twink?” Bucky murmured, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing his shoulder. “Yup, ‘m your twink,” he giggled, face falling into Bucky’s shoulder A warm feeling spread throughout his chest, at Steve being his, and at him being all giggly and relaxed and falling asleep, so, so vulnerable in a way no-one would have been, when he was still under Hydra’s brainwashing. He was so in love with him, so, so much.

=

“So, uh, Mr. Winter, sir, or, uh, do you prefer Mr. Soldier? Uh, Mr. Stark asked me to uh, ask, who’s your roommate?” Stark’s spider-son asked fiddling with a pen, that had ‘Stark Industries’ emblazoned on the side He was fairly sure Stark didn’t make pens. Recorder, maybe transmitter. Huh.

He reached over, plucked the pen out of his hands and spoke into the near-invisible mic, “My roommate is an artist twink with whom I am in a homosexual relationship and I fuck daily.” He pressed the pen back into the kid’s hands and patted his shoulder, “Good talk, spider-kid.”

He turned around and walked straight out of the door, leaving Peter bright red and sputtering, whispering into the mic, “I think he wants you to stop asking.”