#but I did what I wanted so no real issues

[buckysm]

2:15 am (and i miss you)

ᯓ★part one, part two,

ᯓ★ Bucky Barnes x fem ex hydra AVENGER reader

ᯓ★ part one word count 6k+

ᯓ★a/n: junie’s first post— so please show some love— i hope you like!! my inbox is always open to chat!

ᯓ★ summary: you and bucky strike an unlikely friendship during sleepless nights, and shared cigarettes. when crisis strikes the team is surprises by your hidden bond (i wrote this bc of a little fantasy of being in a secret situationship with bucky and the team finding out when bucky goes feral after reader goes missing during a mission)

ᯓ★ warnings/ tags/ tropes for the whole series: canon? what canon?, haters to lovers -- except you never hated him and he just resented you-- midnight rendezvous, friends to lovers, Anxiety, angst and fluff and smut,  Bucky Needs a Hug, Protective Bucky Barnes Bucky Barnes issues related to past trauma, not so platonic cuddling, slow burn, jealous Bucky Barnes Miscommunication, Mentions of torture off screen (to be added and expanded as i post part two) NOT BETA READ

These are the hands of fate/ You're my Achilles heel/ This is the golden age of something good and right and real

It started with a cigarette.

It started when he had lent you a lighter. He did not smoke, and you didn’t ask him why he had one.  

For him, it started months before then.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

Bucky was barely coping when you joined the team. His days muddled by an eternal haze of anger and frustration…His life had been stolen from him, along with his memories from before. He did not feel like he deserved redemption. He had done terrible things, had had terrible things done to him.

He found himself disassociating whenever he wasn’t on a mission. He did not feel real; he couldn’t joke around and feel good without betraying his past. Yet, his past was real, it happened. But Bucky couldn’t just move on, couldn’t just exist without the churning in his gut telling him he was dirty, he was dripping in sin, tarnished by the red in his ledger, filthy to the point of no return.

When he was told about you, his body turned taut with trepidation. Two sides of the same coin. You were injected with serum just like him. Made to do things and had things done to you just like him. And he had heard of you. They had called you serpiente, the serpent, the snake. You were deadly, never made a mistake. No one knew any identifying details about you, not even your gender. 

And it was his mistake, thinking you were a man. He yearned to be understood; maybe he would find companionship in you.

But then, you were not a man. The first time he beheld you, he had just finished a mission for Fury. Secret and dirty, he felt right at home doing SHIELD’s grunt work.

You were walking down the compound, side to side with Black Widow. He had assumed you were one of her brethren, maybe you had trained with her, a black widow yourself. Tony Stark pranced a few paces before you.

“Soldier, good you’re here! Come meet our newest recruit!”

Your smile was disarmingly bright. Pretty. He felt himself grow cold with fury. It was a smile that came easily to you. And your eyes, frustratingly  soft. You seemed at peace with yourself, and he hated that.  

He just stared at you in response. Eyes hard. Waiting for you to react to his lack of reciprocity. You didn’t bite his hook, just lightly pursed your lips and took his glare in stride. 

“Nice to meet you, Stark was telling me about you, all good things, don’t worry. But I had heard about you from before—you know—we do have in common h-”

“We have nothing in common.” He snarled before walking away, fuming. How dare you? How dare you make chit-chat about the thing that haunted his life. Every waking hour, every nightmare he was haunted by his past. And you wanted to…what? Talk about it over jokes? No. He decided you had nothing in common.

Maybe your body count was higher than his, and he chose to ignore the elephant in the room. The fact that you were a beautiful woman and that that could be a weapon as much as it could be a vulnerability.

He hated you a bit more each time he saw you get along with the rest of the team. How dare you? 

He had thought, had been so sure, that the reason he was disliked was because of his past. But that wasn’t it, was it? Because you and the black widow seemed to do just fine. Maybe he was just broken, and maybe you had been too, but you had fixed yourself just fine. Parallel wounds, yours had healed, while his had festered like a virus. How dare you?

His despise grew with each smile, each laugh, each time you were slapped on the back.

Everything came to a head when he found you on the balcony. He had thought it was his balcony. His.

It wasn’t a balcony, more of a ledge. A floor that had been destroyed during a hulk mishap, had not been fixed, and did not look like it would be anytime soon. 

The wind was strong. You stood at the edge, facing the precipice. You seemed so peaceful. 

He stared at your profile, illuminated by the city lights. Your expression was sad. He had never seen it like that. Your lips tight, eyes fluttered shut. Where you about to jump?

He walked toward you, deliberately moving his limbs so that you heard his footsteps.

You turned unhurriedly, your eyes opening slowly. There was a small moment where he saw you, your unguarded face. He was too involved in his stupor he had not considered the possibility of it all being a facade. But months had passed, and your mask hadn’t slipped. Until now.

It was only a fraction of a vulnerable moment before you schooled your features. And it angered him for some reason. Seeing you so easily slip into the practiced mask. It made him just like the rest of them, taking you at face value, not digging deeper past your pretty face, sparkling eyes, and gleaming smile. But then he was angry at both himself for not looking past and you for pretending. 

Before he could stop himself, before he could think, words were coming out of his mouth faster than he processed them. 

“Do not do that, don’t do that.”

You sighed, your mask falling to one of disdain. You looked disappointed in him, exasperated. It was a look of derision, he felt scorned, and yet it was better than the fake platitudes. 

“Do what? Now, what am I doing that deserves your anger?”

“Pretending,” Bucky grunted.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “So what am I supposed to do according to you, huh?” You walked away from the ledge toward him. He towered over you, head lowered to meet your defiant gaze. “Am I supposed to growl, frown, and hate myself for things I can’t control? Well, guess what, been there, done that! And, hey—guess again what happened. I hated it. So what if I am faking it? Maybe if I fake it hard enough, it’ll come true.”

“What’ll come true?” Bucky asked beside himself, snarling.

“Wanting to live, not letting them win. Because if I hate myself, then they win.” Your angry gaze wavered, turning sad. You looked away from him towards the city skyline. “I’ll go now, leave you alone to your self-hatred and whatever….” You started making your way to the battered elevator doors.

Bucky sighed, exasperated. “No, stay. I’m sorry.”

You had stopped walking away, your footsteps silent, but some sixth sense told him you had in fact paused.

He turned toward you. “I’m sorry.” He echoed.

You nodded, moving towards the ledge and sitting on it.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

“Careful there, doll face.” His voice was gruff. “Don’t want you to fall off.”

You stiffened slightly, taken off guard, not for the first time tonight. The sweet nickname coupled with his harsh voice made heat rise to your cheeks. You decided to appear as if you took it in stride. Not wanting him to know just how much his words meant to you. Wanting to hear him call you that forever.

Because as much as you told yourself otherwise, it had hurt when he brushed you off. You had looked up to him. 

You didn’t have any memories of your past before the experiments or the training, so maybe it was different for him. He had a life that was taken away from him — and you were just now learning to have one.

You heard about him, heard him even.  Heard his screams sometimes. Your handlers wanted to teach you a lesson of what would happen when you didn’t behave.

It was clear he did not remember you. Why would he? When you passed each other in the hydra bases, he didn’t know who you were; that was part of your deal. No one expected a pretty girl to have a body count as high as yours. 

Bucky had killed about 20-something people, important ones. You knew that Natasha had a count of about six hundred and had shared the fact with you. Bucky had been Hydra’s tool, he was used in important missions only. While you…were a gun for hire basically. A knife for hire. You used your charms on men and women alike to disarm them enough. Your kills were always up close and personal. Sometimes you had to put yourself in compromised positions to do so. Bucky never had to. 

You knew that he had to be put under a lot, had to have his brainwashed again and again, and conditioned an inhumane amount of times. His brain rebelled, he had a life. Somewhere, deep in his subconscious, he had memories or faint encodings of a life outside.

But you were awake all of the time. You did things because there was no other option. You had to survive. You didn’t know otherwise.

You pondered in silence. And when it became too much for you, you fumbled into one of the multiple pockets on your jacket for your cigarettes. You stiffened when you remembered you had left the lighter on your bedside counter. “Damn it.”

“What’s wrong, doll.” His voice was curious, less rough. He was standing somewhere behind you. You could feel the weight of his stare.

You wanted to comment on the pet names— but you didn’t want him to stop, so you swallowed a snarky remark. “I forgot my lighter.”

He made his way toward you, movements swift as he sat next to you, feet dangling on the edge. You understood him now, didn’t want him to fall. 

He slid his hand onto the pockets of his cargo pants and came out with a lighter.

You smiled at him. His eyes never strayed from yours as he placed the lighter in your hand. 

His eyes were beautiful, darker than usual under the low light.

You tore away from his gaze. Placing a cigarette between your lips, you cupped the lighter and flicked it on.

You took a drag of the cigarette, enjoying the burn. Enjoying the strong scent, stronger than other cigarettes. It made your head light.

Banner had made them for you after you expressed sadness about not being able to enjoy any substances.

You heard a sniff. He had noticed it too.

You waited a second, leaving the smoke in your lungs, before exhaling. “It’s enhanced with something, Banner made it for me.”

He hummed. 

“You want one?” You looked at him from the corner of your eyes, not wanting to turn your face fully.

“Thanks for offering doll, but I don’t smoke.”

You hummed, taking another drag. “Not even before?” your question was tentative, you wanted to see if he would open up to you.

He hummed softly. “I did yes, once or twice. But Steve couldn’t handle the secondhand smoke, so I stopped. Little asthmatic punk…”

Silence stretched out as you enjoyed the lightheaded sensation. Your limbs loosened, and you felt free. 

“D’ya miss him?” You turned fully toward him.

His eyes never strayed from the skyline as he answered,“I do. It’s different, we’ve both changed a lot. You know how it is, losing the past.”

“I don’t know, not really…” your voice was soft and resigned. 

His eyes flashed to yours. You didn’t know what to do with the full weight of his stare. “What do you mean by that doll?” His brows were furrowed. 

You sighed, not wanting to get into it. “It’s late…” You took out your AVENGER-sanctioned phone to check the time, 2:15 A.M.

“I’m going to sleep.” You lied. And you couldn’t stop more words from tumbling out of your mouth. Clumsy and rushed. “Same time tomorrow?”

A ghost of a smile pulled slightly at the corner of his lips. “See you doll face. Sweet dreams.”

“Sweet dreams Jamie.”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

Jamie. Jamie. Jamie. Jamie….

He had been too quick to judge, and now he couldn’t get you out of his thoughts. His sleep was fitful, but he was granted a reprieve from his nightmares. Dreaming instead of the multitudes in your eyes. 

It was a slow day in the compound. He had a routine during slow days, he would go to his favorite training room and lose himself. The training room itself didn’t lack anything, but he had marked his territory with his glares at anyone who entered. He had achieved an unspoken ownership of that particular room.

After having you torment his dreams, however, he had to see you in person. He tried to contain himself, he started his routine in the training room. 

It lasted 42 minutes. 

No amount of dagger throws could get him to calm down. 

He found you on the tower’s common floor.

You hunched over a table, Banner at your side. Coming down was worth it.

“Well, good morning there Sarge, nice of you to come out of your room and join the land of the living.”

And he immediately regretted it.

“Stark!” Two voices proclaimed in tandem. You and Steve jumped to defend him, Steve’s voice was sharp, and yours was a playful whine.

“What? I’m just saying, he’s acting like a teenager!” Stark’s voice was a defensive grumble. He tinkered with the toaster in the kitchen area. 

“Oh as opposed to you, who behaves so maturely?” The tone of your voice was playful but had a hidden bite to it. Bucky couldn’t help but appreciate it.

You turned to smile at him, Steve turned to bicker with Tony. Bucky rolled his lips and moved to grab a mug, he poured himself a cup before walking away. 

He barely heard Stark’s remark on his parting, mentally berating himself for caring about the hurt look that soured your face when he did not return your smile. He shouldn’t care, caring was dangerous. It made him vulnerable and put him in a position where he could be easily hurt again.

He had to be careful, He did not want to break down the walls he had put up protecting himself and others from himself.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

You almost didn’t show up. Hurt but not surprised by his attitude.

You paced the room you had on Natasha’s floor. She was not home, leaving you to pace away your conflicting thoughts.

Your heart had skipped a beat when he showed up. He never showed up, he was a ghostly presence in the compound. Part of the team, but never there for ‘team building exercises’…

It was 2:14 when you rushed to the elevator, a pounding of indecision in your chest. You told yourself it was curiosity. You needed to know more about him, needed to figure him out - maybe then you would be able to understand why he made you want…-

The silent elevator ride left you time to think

He is hurt, just projecting/ This could end badly/ This could end with a friendship/ He was an asshole/ He just needs a friend/ At the cost of your sanity?/

Two inner voices argued with each other in the back of your mind. You let them.

The elevator stopped, the doors slid open and there he was. The voices went quiet as soon as your eyes fell on him.

He leaned against a thick construction support post, overlooking the city skyline, his back to you.

“Nice of you to join me doll.”

DOLL?! Asshole, he dared to call you doll- yet acted coldly toward you in public?! You grunted angrily, mimicking his usual blasé attitude and walking to stand beside him, not looking at him.

A storm of anger raged inside you as you stared at the beautiful Manhattan skyline.

“Is everything alright doll?” His voice was softer, and you weren’t as angry anymore.

Yes he hadn’t smiled at you, but what exactly had made you expect that from him? Yes, he called you doll, but he was from the forties. Plus he hadn’t smiled at you before. And-what?  You had one conversation and suddenly you expected him to smile at you? You were delusional! This man was set in his ways, and maybe he was bored, but it meant nothing. He was bored and lonely, and you were overthinking everything. You were new at this, at socialization. Genuine socializing. You socialized a lot for your HYDRA days, but this was new. You were used to having the upper hand, being the one in control.

You sighed out your exasperation, letting your tense shoulders loosen.

“Mhm…” your eyes never strayed from the city.

You stood in comfortable silence. You were an expert at working yourself into a stupor. But honestly, you were about… twenty, twenty-one (you lost time during HYDRA). Yet you felt emotionally stunted- of course you did. You never had the chance to actually develop skills people your age did.

“This feels like a dream. Like I am hallucinating being free, and I will wake up from passing out due to torture and be back in my cell…” Words tumbled out of your mouth. You were also bored and lonely. Faking your way with the others made you exhausted.

He made no response, but you could tell he understood. And that was enough.  You fumbled for your cigarettes. He slid a lighter from his pocket, handing it to you wordlessly.

You took it from his hand, inhaling to light your smoke. 

“You know? it’s dumb… but I sometimes feel like screaming at them… like something deep inside of me yearns to scream and kick and throw whatever is around- to get out all my pent-up energy, maybe then I can pass out from exhaustion and sleep. And yea- the novelty of being free, and being in the fucking Avengers is slowly wearing off, and I just-” you sighed, you were talking and maybe he wasn’t even interested in hearing you whine. “And whatever, I should be grateful… it’s dumb…” You stopped yourself. Letting in the chilly New York air into your lungs. 

“No, doll, it’s not dumb.” He turned to look at you, forcing you face the full weight of his gaze. He was devastatingly beautiful. Your inhale was sharp. “Don’t feel bad about being angry, it’s valid feeling this way.”

You smiled then, “look at you, giving emotional advice. Who knew you were a big softy underneath that grouchy, grumbling exterior.”

He scoffed, but you could tell there was no real meaning behind it. Your smile grew.

His eyes lowered to your lips for a charged moment, before looking back to the city. “Those who can’t do, teach-”  His lips tugged slightly upwards, a glimpse of a smile.

You took a drag of your cigarette, staring unashamedly at his profile. “What do you do, when you are not brooding? Like what does one do for fun around here?”

“At two am in the afternoon doll, those who aren’t sleeping…” he trailed off, a soft pink brightening his cheeks

“Are what?” your grin was teasing.

“Are on a mission or something.” His voice came out slightly strangled. 

“Or something…” you murmured, a yawn escaping you.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

 “So, you really liked big band music? Kind of… classy for a guy who threw himself off buildings.”

 “Hey, a man can appreciate good music and bad decisions.”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

 “Stark’s fine, sometimes… but his ego’s bigger than his bank account.”

 “If I had his money, I’d buy a planet and avoid people altogether.” You sighed, 

 “Doll, you’d get bored in two days.”

 “True. I’d need at least one grump to frown at me” 

He couldn’t hide his soft grin.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

 “Paris. You think it’s as romantic as everyone says?”

“Probably less if I was there...”

 “You’re right. You’d make it a lot more broody.”

“And you’d make it a lot more… sneaky. You’d blend into the shadows and pickpocket tourists.”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

 “I could live off this forever.” Your spoke around a mouthful of pizza

Bucky grimaced “Takeout pizza? You call that food?”

 “Says the man who probably ate spam for dinner in the ‘40s.”

“Now doll, it was a delicacy back then.”

 “Spam’s not a delicacy in any era, Barnes.”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

“You ever thought about getting a pet? Like a dog or something?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow “Me, with a dog? Not sure I’d be a good influence.”

“Nah, they’d se through you.”

“I’m more of a cat person.”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

 “I like the quiet moments just before dawn. No one’s around to bother you.”

“Night’s better. Everyone’s already asleep. Feels like you’re the only one left.”

 “Until you realize there’s still someone like me lurking in the dark.”

 “Yeah, lucky me.”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

 “So, any weird phobias? Mine’s spiders. Too many legs.”

Bucky shrugged “Needles. After Hydra? No thanks.”

You nodded. “Yeah, makes sense. But hey, at least you could crush a spider for me. And I can catch all your bulk when you pass out at the sight of a needle.”

“Ha, ha.” 

Someday, you’d get a real laugh out of him

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

 “If you weren’t a super soldier, what would you be doing?”

“Maybe a mechanic. Fixing cars, quiet life. You?”

 “Bartender. People tell you their secrets. It’s like espionage, but with cocktails.”

 “Sounds dangerous doll. What’s in the drink?”

You grinned “Depends on who’s asking.”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

“I keep getting these flashes… Steve dragging me to Coney Island, insisting I’d love it. Turns out, I hate roller coasters.”

You rolled your lips, deciding on what to say “I don’t have any memories before hydra, but I dream about falling. Maybe I would love roller coasters.”

“I’ll take your word for it, doll. I prefer solid ground now.”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

“You ever feel like the idea of ‘freedom’ is just another way to trap us? Like, what do we even do with it?”

“I dunno. Still figuring that out. But it beats following orders like a puppet.”

“Yeah. I just wish freedom came with an instruction manual.”

“If it did, doll, I’d probably ignore it. I don’t need another piece of paper dictating my life..”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

You were late, and Bucky was ready to leave when he heard the elevator doors open. You held a full white plastic bag.

“Honey, I’m home, and I brought dinner!” you had a slight spring in your step, he turned toward you, a smile of pleasure and relief made its way into his expression without his consent. Your steps faltered slightly, your brows furrowing for a moment before a beaming smile took over, your eyes twinkling.  It was real, not a sarcastic grin, a smile! Your response only made his smile more pronounced -slightly, but still-.

“It’s good that you don’t smile, if you did people would pass out on the spot.”

He couldn’t stop the small laugh making its way out of his mouth. “Not you?”

“Not me, I’m made of stronger stuff.” You sat next to him, a bit farther from the ledge than usual. 

He followed suit, crouching in front of you. He took note of the way you eyed his legs, of your inhale, of the way you had to force yourself to look away.

“I wonder what would make you pass out.” His mouth ran away from his brain.

“Maybe take me to a fancy restaurant then you can try and find out.”

The thought made his heart race, he stopped himself from thinking about it. You were joking, it was friendly— you weren’t serious.

“I could, we could go on a few dates, and you would end it when you realize I’m too old and bitter for you doll. Maybe it’s best we stay here at 2:15 am where I can lend you a light.”

Your face soured to a pout. “Well I like my men a little bit older. But if you are telling me I’m not your type and you like old ladies, well then I can handle rejection, not the worst thing I’ve lived through.” Your smile was sarcastic, yet he could tell there was hurt behind your eyes.

“No doll, I don’t think anyone could reject you even if they tried.” 

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

Your heart raced at his words, caught off guard by their raw sincerity. You weren’t used to hearing compliments, not ones that felt real anyway. A flippant remark was on the tip of your tongue, ready to deflect the tension, but it got stuck.

“You ever think about it? You know… dating?”

He snorted softly, “Who would date me? I’ve got more shit to deal than anyone would want to deal with.”

You grinned “Hey, at least you’re mysterious. I’m more… ��potential assassin.’”

 “Ah, the classic ‘will she kill me on the first date’ dilemma. I can hide the metal arm, but you can’t hide the serial killer smile.”

You laughed loudly, shoving him playfully.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

It was a few weeks after the initial meeting, and meeting had become a habit, a tradition of sorts. 

You gave him a shy smile when others were present, and he reciprocated with a soft look in his eyes. 

He knew he was being obvious with his staring, but he couldn’t help himself from looking at you.

He leaned on the counter, eyes flicking to and from you. He beheld as you smiled and laughed with the rest. He had a bit of jealousy that you weren’t bestowing the smile upon him, but he held non of the contempt from before.

He sensed an annoying presence beside him.

“Hey creep, why don’t you join us for drinks tonight? As luck would have it, even your star-spangled ass is joining us.”

Said star-spangled ass turned to glare at Tony, his expression turning into a smile as his eyes shifted toward Bucky.

“Yeah, come with us, you’ll have fun, we promise.” 

A myriad of yeahs chorused from the rest of the team, including you. Heat rushed to his cheeks as he looked at the ceiling. “Whatever.” He muttered.

“Well that wasn’t a no!” you grinned, acknowledging him.” Your smile so bright he couldn’t take it. 

He sighed, and grumbled incoherently before turning to hide his blush and walking away.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

You smiled to yourself as he retreaded. 

Natasha bumped your shoulders together. “He stares at you so much, I have no clue if he hates you or wants you. Maybe both!” 

“Nat, don’t be rude, it’s probably because I’m new.”

She smirked, “Sure.” You hadn’t been new for a while.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

He was anxious. It took him forty minutes to place where the tight feeling in his chest was coming from. But it came down to you. It always came down to you as of late.

Steve had an arm around his shoulders, and he was blabbering on about how much fun these rare night outs were, where everyone was present.

He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t you talking to some guy. Enthusiastic hand gestures and a dazzling smile on your face as some random guy looked at you with an entranced smile.

He felt bile rising in his throat. 

He wanted to turn around and walk away, but that would have been too obvious. So he walked in with his stomach dropping with anguish.

He was out of it, sipping a drink that Steve had handed him. His tastebuds not even processing the taste of his drink.

“Yo! Joe Goldberg, knock it out with the serial killer stare.” 

He felt a smack on his shoulder. He reluctantly tore his eyes away from you.

“What are you talking about?” he grumbled. Smooth. Real smooth.

Even though she was shorter than him, Natasha towered over Bucky. “I don’t know what your problem is, but you need to check it. It’s getting really weird.”

He felt a hand fist in his heart, tight. He downed the drink and sighed. Think Bucky. Think. “It’s not like that.” He was quiet for a few moments, formulating a response.

“Well then explain, why you keep staring at her like you want to strangle her.”

“I don’t want to— fuck.” He placed the empty glass on the table. “She’s also from Hydra.” He stated.

“Yeah, duh.” Natasha looked at him with contempt.

He needed to fix the fact that she thought he was some sort of obsessed weirdo…. He wasn’t!

“She’s so, normal, happy. And she…” he trailed off. 

Natasha’s expression shifted to one of understanding. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” He looked to Steve, who tried to seem like he wasn’t listening to the conversation.

“Bucky, you’re-” Natasha placed a friendly hand on his shoulder.

“I’m going to get another drink.”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

You could tell something was wrong when you stepped out of the elevator. He was quiet, not the usual kind, brooding. You acted like you always did, but you could tell his heart wasn’t in it. 

“Bucky, is everything alright?” your voice was soft.

His reply was an irritated huff. You waited for a few moments, letting him have his space.

The night was cold, you had worn thick cotton clothing. He wore a hoodie and pants, they looked comfortable, but the man in them did not.

You hummed, and moved closer toward him, he leaned on a pillar,

“Big mission tomorrow huh?” You shifted tactics. It wasn’t odd for him to have a quiet night, where you just sat in companionable silence. This was different though… he was angry about something. Some insecure part of you told you he was mad at you. But there wasn’t any foundation to that, was there? 

He grunted in response. He was making you anxious. You sighed loudly, deciding on either having a smoke or going to bed. The stilted silence making you anxious, a pressure hard on your chest. You tried to exhale it out, but it wouldn’t budge.

You let him wallow next to you for a few minutes before giving up and turning to face him. You placed a soft hand on his forearm, about to say goodnight. He flinched harshly and your heart twisted. He grimaced, eyes shifting to you before flitting away. 

“Bucky, if you need, I-” your voice had a nervous tinge to it, and you hated it. You were glad when he interrupted you.

“Go to sleep doll.” His voice was sad, his face resigned. 

You furrowed your brows, studying his expression. You had the urge to kiss him on the cheek for good luck but knew that you would break if he flinched away.

“Goodnight Jamie…”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

You walked away, turning your head twice to smile at him sadly. He held your gaze as the elevator doors closed, removing you from his field of vision. Taking you away from him. 

“Fuck.” His voice was soft and defeated. He looked at the city skyline. His eyes glossing over. He wanted to get the self-hatred out, to hit the wall, break his knuckles, and kick at the litter on the floor. But he let it sit, let it fester in his chest. A leech that grew bigger as it fed on the churning,  loathsome thoughts overwhelming his brain.

He crumpled with the ease of a paper, falling to the ground,

His limbs splayed as he lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t take it. Any of it. He always told himself he was strong. He was The Winter Soldier, for fuck’s sake! And here he was, crying over a girl. But that wasn’t it. Or it wasn’t just that. It was the fact that he was too soft for all of it. And he was still somewhat human at the end of the day. He still had emotions, and he was starved for comfort. He lacked connection. And he was okay without it, had gone so so long without, he had grown used to the lack. But then you had come into his sanctuary and ruined everything, and he let you. He felt a kinship with you. You had gone through hell and back, had walked the same road as him, and you smiled so big, your eyes twinkled so bright. He couldn’t help but fall into your orbit. Admiring you from afar. 

Maybe it was better when he hated you, it was something he was used to, it was comfortable. He did not know what to do with all these feelings, hadn’t felt them before, not even in the 40’s. He was happy then, it was normal for him to smile. He didn’t know to appreciate it. Yes, there was war, but there was hope, and there was also Captain America there to save him, but then Steve wasn’t there anymore. And any sliver of hope was quickly crushed under gleaming leather Hydra boots. He was going to die someday on a Hydra mission, he had made his peace with that. But Steve did save him, a little too late. He wasn’t Bucky anymore and did not feel like he had any right to the mantle of Captain America’s best friend. And some parts of him did want that still, but all of him yearned to be your Jamie.

And now bitter and traumatized, he held a flower in his calloused hands, and he didn’t know if he was worthy of it. He couldn’t breathe.

He was going to die here, and he couldn’t go in peace because he wanted to see you one more time. He couldn’t stand up, he couldn’t move, He keened in pain like a puppy. 

Pathetic, get up. Voices from Hydra spewed venom, wracking through his psyche. He clenched his jaw and groaned from deep in his throat.

Broken…unworthy…killer…tainted…

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

The mission was successful. The team had divided in two, his group had finished earlier.

He felt better, exhausted. It had been a long mission, he was covered in grime and blood. 

It was rare for him to get to the point of exhaustion, but he had dived head first into hand-to-hand combat, not letting up, ignoring black widow’s knowing looks. 

Freshly showered and changed into sweats, Bucky let himself fall face-first into his too-soft bed. Days of restless sleep coupled with today’s exertion weighed his body down, and pulled his mind into sweet sweet oblivion.

He woke with a start, looked at the clock, and sat up. 3:22 A.M. 

He had stood you up. He rushed to the elevator and up to the floor. His thoughts raced with self criticism and hatred. He breathed out a frustrated sigh, you weren’t there.

Of course you weren’t there, he had been over an hour late.

He grumbled to himself all the way down to the common floor. His footsteps skidded to a stop when he found all the lights on and a flurry of activity.

Hawkeye typing furiously into a computer, Black Widow pacing the floor on the floor, her hands fiddling with some tech stuff. Steve was curled over a tablet, his hands clenched around the edge of a countertop.

Bucky stopped. The other team hadn’t come back.

“What’s wrong… where is she?” His chest felt tight.

Steve motioned at him to come near while the other two ignored him.

“Look, Bucky, I know you have some fondness for her, but I need you to calm down. She’s — uh— she’s missing…”

His ears started ringing; he didn’t hear anything after that. He took deep breaths, running his hands through his hair. It was longer, he needed a hair cut, maybe you could cut his hair. Yeah, that sounded nice. 

He stilled. Breathing in deep, “give me the details, I’ll have her back with me within the hour.”

He didn’t recognize his voice. Black Widow and Hawkeye had turned their heads to stare at him with wide eyes. 

“Bucky, calm down, she’s alive from what we can tell, we can’t deal with y- we have to focus on finding her right now.”

“I am focused. I will find her.” His voice, it was gruffer, the language wasn’t english. He was reverting back…

Iron Man decided it was the best moment to walk in.

Bucky, The Winter Soldier turned around with intent. He had some inkling of what he must have  looked like, a menace— because as Iron Man was opening his mouth to make some snarky remark, his jaw clenching shut, hands rising in surrender. 

“Где она, где моя кукла?” Where is she, where is my doll?. 

His voice had a deadly cadence, he spoke and meant death.

“She’s okay, Wanda has her.” Black Widow had placed the radio on a table. She walked toward The Soldier slowly.

Wanda, the deadly witch saved from Sokovia. He remembered her. She was strong. Not strong enough. 

He leveled his eyes on her. “скажи мне где, или ты умрешь.” tell me where, or die.

Her eyes grew hard “Calm down soldier, there is no need to threaten anyone.” 

The tension was palpable then, rising… rising-

The Doors opened to you limping… being supported by the witch and the doctor. 

His shoulders slumped. He shifted toward you, but something blocked his path,  he looked down to see Steve’s arm pushing against his chest. The enemies’s stance were on the offence, about to attack, keep her from him. He was about to threaten his best friend  The Captain to move when-

“Jamie…”  

His gaze flashed toward to you. You pushed away from them, limping— stumbling toward him.

He met no resistance this time as he rushed softly toward you.

Your knees buckled as he wrapped his arms around you. You collapsed against him. 

You sobbed softly- and he broke. His arms strong and soft as he held you close.

He didn’t care about anything, he didn’t care how the scene looked, he didn’t care that they all knew for certain now. He loved you.

He just needed to know you were okay.

He held you as you shook, “I thought, I was back there Jamie, I- thought I wasn’t going to- to see you again. I thought, he would get lonely, and- and- I was going to miss you- they- they- I didn’t care about any of it. I just thought about you….” You sobbed, trying to get words out. “I got out- I killed them all, I couldn’t face it, couldn’t face not- I killed…” For you. 

“kukla…” Doll.“you’re here, you’re ok, let’s get you to the infirmary. You are hurt, and bleeding…”

His voice was so, so soft —dense with remnants of russian. His arms holding you together.

He ignored it all, ignored the dropped jaws and furrowed brows, you came first. He had shown you as his vulnerability, but he first had to be sure his Achilles heel would be okay.

Please remember to leave your kind thoughts in the comments, and if you enjoyed support with reblogs, ok thanks for reading be back with part two soon!!!!

[sirfrogsworth]

So, I did know the basic psychology of this. Or I have a good guess at least. But I was too tired and just needed a way to end the post quickly. I am running on fumes nearly all the time and sometimes I just do whatever I need so I can publish something and feel like I accomplished a goal.

But a few people are having issues with what I said.

They mentioned that autistic folks find comfort in repetition and feel like I am calling that sad. I definitely see that as a possible interpretation and I appreciate them mentioning feeling that way.

But I just wanted to use a little bit of energy to address why I don't think I was referring to these normal, healthy coping mechanisms. I mentioned in a reply that my father actually needed to watch the same show over and over because he was too sick to concentrate on something unfamiliar. I get why it can be helpful.

Firstly, I don't know many autistic people who trap everyone they know at a party and play the same 12 songs over and over.

By and large, that aspect was what I found most sad.

But aside from that, I see this repetitive behavior as a very different thing.

In fact, I would say it isn't the behavior itself... it is the *reason* for the behavior.

I see Trump's repetitive behavior more as living in the past, stuck in his ways, being stubborn, and unwilling to try new things. Something I see a lot with elderly conservative folks. They yearn for a better time in the past when they forgot all of the shitty things and only remember happy times. They say music was better in the good old days and refuse to consider any good music could be created outside of that golden age.

Trump is stuck in the 80s and 90s. He was young and healthy and grabbing pussy and fucking models (with and without consent) and going to parties of important people. He was invited to celebrity weddings and was literally Regis Philbin's best friend. Society generally liked him. He was just the goofy rich guy with the hair and many of us thought he was really good at business. Something enhanced by The Apprentice which was heavily edited to make him seem like a business genius. He likes people thinking he is good at business more than he likes being president.

I actually think he hates being president and only ran this time to stay out of jail.

Trump is not well liked as he used to be. No matter how many cult members love and praise him, he remains deeply unhappy. His wife refuses to touch or even kiss him in public. She does this little hand escape thing every time he tries to hold her hand. And when he tries to kiss her she makes him do that French thing where he has to kiss the air near her head.

Every one of his current "friends" is just playing the game. They are hoping their fealty will help them climb the ladder. I doubt he has a single genuine friend left. Except maybe Rudy Guiliani, who turned into a fucking nutball.

He was traumatized from being inches away from death and I think that was the real reason he moved his inauguration inside. A life long New Yorker is pretty well adapted to the cold.

He probably has erectile dysfunction. He is said to need a diaper. People say he smells really bad. Getting old sucks for everyone, but it is devastating to a narcissist of Trump's caliber.

Trump is in a psychological prison of unhappiness and all he has left is his rallies and his parties where he tries to trigger memories of better times. He has the world's thickest nostalgia glasses.

Why do you think he says "Make America Great AGAIN"?

He says he is going to restore the US to its "former glory."

Almost every personal and political goal of his is based on restoring how things used to be. Which is why he so easily fit into the regressive Republican party despite being a New York Democrat for most of his life.

Trump has elderly nostalgia brain and he is stuck in a loop. He is desperately trying to recreate his glory days.

I get why people had an issue with the caption. And I should have waited until I had more energy to clarify.

In the end, this man is stuck in his ways and stupendously uncurious of new things.

And those are terrible traits for a president.

[jjkamochoso]

hiii

idk if u take reqs rn or not feel free to ignore this

so i was thinking abt jjk guys and how they would react if u couldn't have a baby... like you want to but can't :(

i know this is a heavy subject and super angsty so i understand if u don't wanna do it

have a great day <333

Hello☺️ thank you so much for sending in this request! I’m always up for writing super angsty/sensitive topics so thank you for trusting me with this one, I hope I did it justice! I wrote this with a cis female reader in mind and only did the older characters if that’s alright, I didn’t feel comfortable writing this for any of the under 18 students. Also, if anyone is struggling with this irl, just know my heart is with you and you’re no less of a person just because you struggle with fertility issues❤️ sending all of you lots of love!🫶❤️

JJK Men Reacting to You Unable to Have a Baby

Angst, Fluff

JJK Men x f!reader

Warnings: sensitive topic at hand! Fertility issues and mentions of doctor’s appointments (nothing graphic); slight cussing in Gojo’s

Noritoshi:

You quickly entered your residence, shutting the front door as fast as you could. You didn’t want to be noticed by anyone right now, especially not a member of the Kamo clan, which was difficult seeing as you lived with your husband Noritoshi at his family’s expansive compound. Little did you know, the Kamo you dreaded to see the most right now was already waiting for you.

“Welcome back. How was your appointment?” asked Noritoshi, pouring two cups of tea. You gulped, trying to keep your tears at bay.

“The doctor said I’m unable to have a baby,” you said in a hushed tone, the news feeling all too real now that you said it out loud. Noritoshi was by your side immediately, tea cups abandoned on the countertop.

“There’s no chance ever?” he asked in a gentle tone.

“Never.” The dam inside you broke, tears overflowing. “Oh Noritoshi, what are we going to do? I can’t give you a baby of our own! We wanted this so bad,” you sobbed. Noritoshi pulled you into his chest, holding you close as you fell apart.

“What are we going to tell your family?” you continued. “We can’t have an heir; I’m going to get you disowned. We’ll have no house, no money, no child-”

“Enough of that,” he interrupted firmly but lovingly, his eyes finding yours as he opted to hold your shaking hands. “My clan will do no such thing. And even if they did, as long as I have you, I’d still be the richest man in the world.”

“But I can’t have a baby,” you sniffled. “We can’t have a baby.”

“I know it’s what we hoped for and I can’t imagine the burden you must be feeling right now,” he said, wiping your tears with his thumb, “but none of this is your fault. You might not be able to carry a child but that doesn’t mean we can’t raise one. We can always explore options like adoption in the future if that’s something you’d like. For now, though, let us grieve this loss so when we’re ready, we can step into the future with renewed hope and optimism.”

You nodded in agreement, grateful for the tissue he provided you along with the lingering kiss pressed to your forehead. It wasn’t going to be an easy journey ahead of you, but with the level headed, caring Noritoshi by your side, you knew you would be just fine.

Todo:

Leaving your doctor’s appointment, you felt numb. It was like your mind refused to process what the doctor had told you: you were unable to have a baby. You didn’t know how to tell Aoi, your husband. You two had dreamt of having kids for a long time and you didn’t want to break his heart with this horrible revelation.

As if he had heard your thoughts, you felt your phone vibrate and saw it was him calling. You sighed, knowing it was probably better to rip off the proverbial bandaid.

“Hey, beautiful. How was everything at your appointment?” he asked.

“Truthfully? Not good.” You bit your lip to stop from crying.

“What happened? Are you alright?”

“No, I’m not alright,” you confessed, tears already starting to fall down your cheeks, “I can’t get pregnant, Aoi. I can’t have a baby.”

At that point, you were practically sobbing in the city street.

“I’m coming to pick you up, honey, don’t worry. Are you still at the hospital?”

“No, Aoi, I’m fine-” you protested through your cries, but he wasn’t having it.

“I won’t let you go through this alone. Please, let me be there for you right now.”

You heard his voice tremble the slightest bit through the phone’s receiver and you realized he needed you as much as you needed him right now.

“Okay,” you whispered.

“I’m on my way. Don’t hang up, I want to hear your gorgeous voice until I can see your gorgeous face.”

That got you to crack a smile for the first time all day.

When Aoi finally showed up, he wrapped you into a tight hug, not daring to let go or caring who sees.

“Whatever the challenge, we’re up against it as a team. I’ll always be by your side, no matter what life throws at us,” he told you, giving your lips a soft kiss before taking you in his arms once more. “We can talk about this more when we get home but right now I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Ino:

You were grateful that Ino wanted to come with you to your doctor’s appointment since you hated going alone, especially when the nature of the appointment had to do with your reproductive health.

It was also extremely helpful to have your husband there for support when you received devastating news from your doctor.

“I’m so sorry Ms. L/n, but you’re completely unable to conceive.”

Ino anxiously grabbed onto your hand. “Do you mean right now, for the foreseeable future, or like… forever?”

“Unfortunately, Mr. Takuma, I mean forever. She will never be able to carry a baby.”

You sat there, dumbfounded, unable to create even a single thought as your world crashed down around you. Sensing your anguish, the doctor stepped out of the room to let you two have a few minutes alone.

The room was deathly quiet, the only sound being the tick of a clock on the wall and your heart pounding in your chest.

“What are we gonna do?” you eventually said, your mouth dry as a desert. You turned to look at the man next to you, tears finally filling up your eyes. “Ino?”

“I… I don’t know,” he responded with a defeated tone and tearing up as well. “I…”

You were both at a loss for words. You registered Ino’s hand leaving your own, the empty feeling mirroring how you felt inside, until he brought you into a bone crushing hug, his tears soaking your shoulder.

“We’re gonna get through this,” he said, sniffling, “we have to. This sucks now, and it’s gonna suck for a long time after this, but we still have each other which is more than I could ever hope for.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, your voice small. “You’d be alright if we didn’t have a kid?”

He gave you an adoring smile. “Of course I’d be alright. If having a baby of our own isn’t in the cards for us, that doesn’t mean we can’t raise a kid. We could look into adoption or who knows, maybe we could pull a Nanami and find ourselves mentoring our own little Ino.”

The giggle you let out was a testament to the strength of your relationship and Ino’s commitment to always keep your spirits up when times get extremely tough.

Gojo:

You finally let out the shuddered breath that you had been holding ever since you left your doctor’s appointment. You had gone in because you and Satoru had been trying for a baby for over a year now and still hadn’t made any progress. What the doctor figured out, though, was what you had been dreading this entire time but prayed wasn’t the case.

“Hey! How was it?” Satoru’s chirpy voice rang out in your apartment, causing your eyes to well with tears.

“Not good,” you called out. Satoru was in the living room with you in an instant, a frown gracing his pink lips.

“Eh? What happened?”

“The doctor said I can’t have a baby, Satoru. We can’t… we can’t start the family we always wanted.”

You sat on the couch, numbness taking over. You felt tears roll down your cheeks but you barely registered them. You could hardly acknowledge your husband wrapping his long arms around you to comfort you (and himself).

“No baby, no future heir. I’ve single-handedly ruined our chances at continuing the Gojo clan.” You looked up at the white haired man. “Satoru, I’m sorry-”

“Y/n, please. I don’t care about any of that shit. There’s, like, a million of us anyway,” he said, waving his hand nonchalantly. “I wanted to start a family with you because I love you. If we can’t do it the fun old fashioned way, I’m sure we can look into adoption if you’re up for that. If it ends up just being us two, I’m fine with that as well. As long as I have you, I’m happy.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, cuddling into his side. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, holding onto you a little tighter.

Geto:

“Darling, you got a letter in the mail today,” Suguru greeted as he walked inside. You took the envelope from him outstretched hand and gasped.

“It’s from my doctor,” you replied, nervously ripping it open. You had been waiting for results about the state of your fertility since you and Suguru weren’t having any luck having a baby on your own. You pulled out the paper and read through each sentence quickly, until one practically punched you in the gut.

…which indicates you are unable to carry pregnancy to term.

The paper fell gracefully from your grasp, landing on the floor, and you felt like you were about to join it with the way your knees were buckling.

“Take a seat, my love,” Suguru said worriedly, holding you up and guiding you to the nearest chair. He bent over and picked up the paper, reading it as well. Even in your despair you saw the way his expression fell, probably feeling just as crestfallen as you were.

“I’m sorry I can’t give us what we wanted,” you choked out, putting your head in your hands. He was by your side in no time, kneeling down to meet your gaze.

“Y/n, look at me.” You did so, wiping your nose with a tissue. “This isn’t an ideal situation but you’re not to blame. We’ll figure something out.”

“But the girls, they wanted a little sibling.”

“But at least we have them,” he reasoned, causing you to nod in agreement. “And I have you. That’s all I’ve ever wished to have. Anything else is a happy bonus.”

He took a handkerchief from his pocket and softly dabbed at the corners of your eyes. “I don’t want you to cry anymore, alright? We’re in this together.”

Nanami:

Your husband Kento was still gone at work by the time you had come back from your appointment with the doctor so you decided to curl up in bed. You had just received the worst news any hopeful mom-to-be could get: you could never get pregnant. You couldn’t stop replaying the words in your head, further torturing yourself. You didn’t even notice Kento coming home, calling out your name, or opening the bedroom door.

“Y/n?” he asked softly before noticing your still figure in the bed. You were facing the opposite way of the door so he treaded lightly across the room, coughing a bit so as not to scare you.

“Are you alright?” he wondered, the bed dipping as he sat next to you and stroked your hair.

“We can’t have a baby, Kento,” you blurted out. “I’m a failure.”

If he was surprised at the news, you couldn’t tell with the way his demeanor stayed calm, cool, and collected.

“First of all, that’s not even close to the truth. You’re an amazing person, a caring wife. You’re nothing close to a failure.” He brushed hair away from your forehead and placed his lips there for an elongated moment.

“Do you want to talk about it or do you want to lie here awhile? Either is understandable,” said Kento after a long bout of silence.

“I’d like to talk about it over dinner, if that’s alright. For now, I just want to lay down.”

“Of course.”

He kissed your hand and stood up, taking off his tie before cuddling up next to you.

“Having you in my life, Mrs. Nanami, is more than enough for me.”

Choso:

Choso came with you to your doctor’s appointment to help calm your nerves, his steady presence more than welcome when the future of your family was hanging in the balance.

“So I’m looking at your results, and it looks like…”

Choso squeezed your hand gently when the doctor spoke.

“…you cannot become pregnant. I’m so sorry,” your doctor told you. “This is a lot to take in, I’m sure, so I’ll give you two a moment to yourselves if you’d like.”

“Please,” Choso answered for you as you were unable to speak. You sat in the chair, emotion overwhelming your entire being. Choso held tightly to your hand as he looked deep into your glassy eyes.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry.” His big brown eyes were also wet with sorrow.

“Why are you sorry? I’m the one who can’t make our dream of having a family come true,” you cried.

“Shh, it’s not your fault,” he soothed, pressing you close to his chest as you sniffled. “You’re being way too hard on yourself. This is a horrible situation but we’ll figure it out together like we always do. You’re not alone in this, or anything else.”

You eventually separated your face from his shoulder and he wiped it softly with a tissue, clearing away your tears.

“We’re a team. We’re a family, baby or not. My love for you will never be shaken.”

He placed his hands lovingly on your cheeks and gave you a kiss on your forehead, reminding you exactly why you wanted to be with him forever.

Toji:

You had just left your doctor’s appointment, your shoulders heavy with the burden of your hopes and dreams shattered by the fact you couldn’t get pregnant. Dialing a number you knew by heart, you anxiously waited for your husband to answer his phone.

“Hey darlin’, what’s up?”

“I really need to talk to you,” you said, your voice small as you tried to not break down over the phone.

“Where are you? I’m on my way now,” Toji said without hesitation. You gave him the address of the clinic you were outside and he told you he’d be there in 10 minutes. You sat on the curb, ignoring the hollow feeling in your chest until you glanced up to see Toji; you burst into tears.

“Woah, hey, it’s okay.” He sat next to you and consoled you with a large hand on your back while the other guided you into a hug so he could shield you from any curious onlookers. “Is this about your appointment?”

You cried harder.

Toji sat with you for a long time as you sobbed. After what seemed like forever, your tears had run dry and you were hiccuping into his broad chest.

“I’m here for you. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I can’t get pregnant. Ever. We won’t be able to have a baby,” you mumbled as you stared at a crack in the sidewalk.

“Here I was, thinkin’ you only had a few days to live.”

You glared at him. “Not funny.”

“Not trying to be for once.” You were pulled in closer to his chest once more as he rested his chin on the top of your head. “I’m sorry that’s the news you got. I know we were looking forward to having a kid but if it’s not in the cards for us, I’ll be alright as long as I have you.”

“Are you sure? You would be a great dad and I don’t want to take that away from you.”

“And you’d be an amazing mom. I wouldn’t want kids with any other woman.”

“Thanks, Toji. I really love you.”

He gave you a lopsided smile. “Let’s get off this dirty ass street and go home.”

[aspiringwarriorlibrarian]

He is NOT subtle.

Yeah there's a not small movement in Germany that wants us all to just get over their Nazi moment and were like "but I wasn't a Nazi so why am I supposed to apologize for it". You aren't. Literally no one asked you to do that. What we're asking you to do is remember to never do it again, and parties like this are the ones saying "well mmaaaaaybe the Nazis had a point with getting rid of the evil immigrants and transgenders".

I am kinda sad that white guilt means something else because it would be a perfect name for this sort of phenomenon where white people feel bad about what their ancestors did, but rather than address it constructively, they decide to try and exonerate their ancestors instead. The whole Lost Cause in the United States where everyone swears up and down that the Civil War wasn't about slavery, the British inability to admit that maybe their Empire affected countries negatively, the downplaying and occasional straight up denial of Native American genocide in Manifest Destiny (along with a newfound resurgence of 'but they civilized those Indians!'), and of course, far-right Germans insisting that everyone get over the Nazis so they can employ Nazi ideology because the Nazis had some points too.

If you are so insistent that you aren't your ancestors, why are you still trying to tell us they did the right thing? If we could just say "yeah they were bastards" and then learn how not to be bastards ourselves, we'd make far more progress as a society than any of this handwringing about how the REAL issue to be addressed is how guilty we feel.

[xmads-omensx]

Part 5

Word Count: 1,994

Pairing: Noah Sebastian X Reader

Content Warnings: angst, self-image issues, fake dating, swearing

Tags: @shayeanna-ashlie @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @supersquirrel1996 @dontwantthemoney @tosoundlessdarkistare @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @klutzy-kay24 @heyyoplayer @lacy1986 @collidewiththesav @kenjipepsi1 @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @chey-h @amelia-acero @thisbicc @dominuslunae @enemiestolovershoe @xxkatsatwatwafflexx @thisbicc @fadingangelwisp @cheyyyyr @littlebear423 @dsireland86 @missduffsblog @overmydeadbodysblog @dominuslunae @blade-dressed-in-red @rumoured-whispers @kait16xo @eclipseeetop @xxkittenkissesxx @theanarchymuse95 @blackveilomens @lilgarbitch @lil-garbitch

NOAH

Grace’s appearance at the party, whilst irritating, wasn’t exactly unexpected.

As a group, we had become accustomed to her unwanted presence in our lives. My only regret was that I never told Y/N about her. She was supposed to be my best friend, after all.

Except that wasn’t enough for me. It never had been.

She plagued every thought in my brain.

I had written countless songs about her that had never seen the light of day. Songs about her eyes, her smile, her hair, her laugh. I had written songs about everything and anything that reminded me of her.

Except that still wasn’t enough for me.

I wanted her. No. I needed her.

Three years ago, she went on a girls trip with some of her friends to Italy and it had been the worst two weeks of my life.

I missed her so horrifically that it hurt to be away from her for so long.

Sure, I was happy that she was having fun with her friends, but I wanted it to be me she had fun with. I wanted it to be me who took her to Italy, not her friends.

Hell, if Bad Omens fell apart I wouldn’t give a single shit about it because I would still have her.

Or would I?

The first time Y/N told me about Stephen’s behaviour I was enraged. I told her that once she had finished talking.

What I didn’t tell her, however, was that Nicholas had to hold me down in order to prevent me from storming over to the office building and beating the shit out of that perverted asshole. He even went as far to make me sleep in his bed that night so he could make sure that I wouldn’t do anything that could land me in jail.

I lay on my bed staring up at the ceiling, listening to the front door slam shut, indicating that Jolly had re-entered our house.

I could hear their muffled conversation from the living room. Jesse and Jolly were probably filling in Y/N with whatever they could think of in regards to Grace.

I didn’t care.

After all, Grace was right.

Y/N was, in fact, using me.

Granted, I was using her too, but not for the reasons she thought.

Yes, I did want to keep Grace as far away from me as possible, but she was still harmless regardless of if I was in a relationship or not.

I just wanted to be her boyfriend. For once. I just wanted to get what I wanted. Even if it wasn’t real.

The longer I lay there, staring into nothingness, the more I longed for it. I didn’t want her to be downstairs, talking to the others, I wanted her up here with me, curled up into my side with her head resting on my chest, rising and falling with my breaths.

I would look down at her and brush those shorter hairs that often fall into her face from that time she impulsively got bangs away from her face, making her giggle because she was so ticklish.

I would laugh at the goofy things that she said, making her head bounce along with my laughs.

I smiled absentmindedly at the thought.

Suddenly, the front door slammed, interrupting me from my daydreaming.

I sat up, confused.

Jesse and Jolly lived here and Y/N was staying the night, so who could have left?

Swinging my legs over the side of my bed, I walked to my bedroom door, opening it with a slow creak before tiptoeing down the stairs to investigate what the slamming was about.

Jolly sat on the sofa nearest the front door, looking at it with a shocked expression, whilst Jesse stood in the middle of the room, also staring at the front door. Y/N was nowhere to be seen.

“Did she leave?” I asked, startling the other two who must’ve not heard me coming down the stairs.

“Uhh- umm- yeah. She did.” Jesse spluttered, eyes darting to me with a slightly panicked expression.

“Why? I thought she was staying over?” I asked, getting increasingly worried. “Did she leave because of Grace?”

“I- uh- she didn’t say.” Jesse stuttered.

An awkward silence filled the living room as the three of us looked at eachother, all awaiting an explanation.

“I think she went back to her place, she said she was tired.” Jolly shrugged, clearly making up what he was saying as he went along.

“You both are terrible liars, you know that right?” I laughed, walking towards the front door before Jesse stopped me, grabbing my shoulder and pulling me back.

“No!” He shouted with a panicked tone. “She probably wants to be alone, you know, with the whole Grace thing.”

That wasn’t like Y/N at all.

If someone had irritated her or pissed her off, she would automatically storm right up to my bedroom, throw herself onto my bed and begin telling me all about it.

TWO YEARS AGO

“Ugh I hate that bitch.” Y/N began, flopping onto my bed with an exaggerated sigh.

“Hello to you to.” I laughed.

“Bridget.” She sighed, twirling her hair around her finger. “I hate her.”

“What did she do now?” I asked.

Bridget was one of the new employees at Y/N’s work. She had claimed to be perfect for the position, but had proven to be the opposite. She was constantly late, backtalked Y/N and Gabi non-stop and was basically just the worst coworker ever.

“She was late. She rolled her eyes at Gabi. She spilled my coffee all over my desk.” Y/N began listing off all of the things Bridget had done that day to slight her, counting them off on her fingers as she went.

It made me laugh, how passionately she hated her new coworker.

She did everything passionately.

Hated, loved, laughed, cried. You name it.

“Want me to scare her off?” I laughed.

“Would you?” She asked, looking up at me with hopeful eyes.

I stared at her before bursting out into laughter, whilst Y/N playfully smacked my chest, complaining about how horrible I was being to her.

“You know I would scare anyone off for you.” I said sighing.

“I know. That’s why you’re my best friend.” She smiled.

Whilst the moment was sweet, it didn’t stop that crack in my heart from deepening as I smiled back at her.

I needed to accept the fact that she would never want me as anything more than that.

PRESENT

I hesitated at Jesse’s words, taking in his panicked expression.

Jolly had stood up now too.

“Whatever.” I mumbled, retreating back up the stairs and into my room, crawling back onto my bed and resuming my earlier position.

She definitely wouldn’t want to see me after I failed to defend her to Grace.

Once again, I had fucked up and let Y/N slip through my fingers.

False hope after false hope had made that crack deeper and deeper, and I was pretty sure my heart was only being held together by a thread.

The last few weeks had both made me the happiest man alive, and the most miserable.

Whilst I was able to be her boyfriend in reality, I was willing to accept the falsehood of the lie we had created if it meant that I got to hold her hand and kiss her.

The thing was, pretending to love her was easy, since I already did. I had for a very long time.

She would never love me back, of course. Y/N was the most incredible woman I had ever met, therefore she had the ability to pick whoever she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, and I had accepted that I would never be that man.

After all, I was her best friend.

Nothing more, nothing less.

I had never uttered a word about any of these feelings to anybody. Not even Nick.

I closed my eyes, trying desperately to retreat to the memories we had created over the last few weeks.

Y/N had a work party not too long after we had started our arrangement, which I had to attend as her boyfriend.

That night, I had driven over to her place in my black dress pants, freshly polished shoes and a white button-up shirt. I had even busted out my most expensive cologne and let Jolly style my hair for me.

It felt silly, when I was waiting for her in my car, that I had put all of this effort in despite us not really being together, but I wanted to show her that I could be a good boyfriend. Even if it wasn’t real.

“Damn where the fuck did you hide the real Noah?” She had laughed when she climbed into my car in a floor-length lilac dress with matching heels and a matching purse.

My heart fluttered in my chest as I looked at her. Beautiful wasn’t enough to describe how she looked.

Fuck that.

Not a single word in the English language was enough to even begin to describe how breathtaking she looked sitting in the passenger seat.

“I- uh-“ I had stuttered, making her laugh.

Fuck that laugh would be the death of me.

The party itself went by in a blur, especially since I spent the entire night looking at her.

I watched as she laughed with Gabi and Ashley about something.

As far as I was concerned, she was the only thing worth looking at.

“How on earth did you bag that?” A nasally voice spoke up from beside me, interrupting my thoughts.

This was the moment I had been waiting for.

Stephen was speaking to me.

“Sorry?” I said with a laugh, hoping I had misheard him.

“How did you manage to get with her?” He doubled down. Big mistake. “I mean, look at her.”

“Yeah, let’s not do that.” I laughed again.

“Do what?” He asked, genuinely confused, and mildly offended that I had argued back.

“You looking at my girlfriend.” I went on, my expression turning serious. “Don’t do it.”

He looked genuinely taken aback by my response.

“I was only complimenting her.” He defended.

“And I was only telling you to stop.” I retorted.

I easily towered over him.

His bald head reflected the lights above him. He looked almost comical stood next to me.

“She is my employee.” He argued.

“She is my girlfriend.” I laughed.

Stephen huffed and retreated back to the group of older men who stood away from the main party, glaring at me and clearly pissed off that I had stood up to him.

Y/N grinned at me from where she stood with her friends, having clearly witnessed the interaction.

I smiled back.

I was going to kill Stephen.

The ceiling above me offered no comfort as I reminisced.

Granted, I was only hurting myself by thinking about the times I felt like I was actually her boyfriend, but I couldn’t help it.

Besides, Y/N would never fall for someone like me anyway. A fake relationship was the best I was ever going to get, and I was more than happy.

Except I wasn’t.

I was in a constant state of happiness since I got to have her, whilst continually having my heart broken over and over again since she wasn’t mine. Not really.

Soon enough, she would find someone else, someone real, and I would be left alone and used.

The more rational part of my brain wanted to break our arrangement off, but I knew I couldn’t if I wanted to make sure that Stephen stayed the hell away from Y/N, but my selfish heart never wanted this to end.

I needed to decide what to do. And I needed to do it fast.

But it was too late to turn back now.

I had dug a hole so deep that I would need to tear myself apart to get out of it.

[sufferu]

You mentioned that one of your favorite elements in BTZ is that things can always get better, and it's never too late to make things right. Do you think the cast has a chance to fix any of the IF story Subarus, assuming they see those IF stories?

Please have Pridebaru as the comic relief no one takes seriously, and Slothbaru trying to help in between showing everyone pictures of his kids for the 15th time today

I’m gonna assume that these IF!Barus got sent back in time with all their. Issues.

Ayamatsu: They’ve kinda got to take him seriously enough to make sure that he doesn’t Do That again, and it’s not really comic relief anymore if he’s Right There and not just something out of a bad fanfiction. But — yeah, they might be able to. They’ve just got to get it through his thick skull that the world he is in is real and populated by real people whom he should be treating with respect. This isn’t something that would happen immediately, and they’d probably need to keep him under lock and key, but they might be able to figure it out eventually.

Oboreru: They capture him and release him into a maximum-security cell decorated with a large bed, plenty of blankets and pillows, and an army of soldiers right outside the door. If they can make Subaru feel that this room is safe and secure, then they can eventually use it as an anchor from which he can be escorted out and slowly readjust to the world around him. Wrath!Baru main problem is that he is this paranoid mess of a man that is constantly afraid of being betrayed, and his main threat to them is his Pleiades organization. If they can put him in a position where he can’t leverage his criminal organization against them (because it doesn’t exist), then they don’t have to worry about him killing them and can focus on helping him recover. And if they can construct an environment that is quiet, secure, and predictable, then recovery may indeed be possible.

Sloth:IF: Honestly Sloth!Baru never even really did anything wrong, his only real sin was that he could never come to terms with what happened that day he left. Even if he had never gone back in time they could help him: just get him in therapy to confront his inner demons and realize that 1) the Witch Cult was not his fault and 2) him running to the other side of the world to live a long, safe, and happy life with Rem is EXACTLY what Emilia would have wanted him to do, and he doesn’t have to feel guilty about keeping himself safe. The main issue is honestly that if he goes back in time he loses his wife and kids and — the grief from that would legitimately break him.

Kasaneru: I actually think that things can still be fixed in canon!Kasaneru. Nobody is dead, and so things can still be fixed, because healing is always possible so long as you’re not dead yet. I actually really like the idea of Greed!Emilia learning about RBD and — instead of letting it break her further — finally finding the strength to grow and break free of her chains on her own, leading everyone against Subaru so that he can finally be forcibly resigned and put to rest. In a time-travel scenario, meanwhile, their main issue is keeping Greed!Baru away from anything he can use to kill himself and making sure someone is watching him at all times as they force-feed him therapy about the value of his life. Constant surveillance and plenty of security measures and they indeed might manage to pull it off. —And also they’d need to destroy his connection with Echidna, if possible.

Tsugihagu: If they had the proper context as to why the fuck Subaru is like this, then they’d probably be able to solve it just by having a conversation with him about who he is to them, why they like him, and how any Subaru is a good Subaru, memories or not. The main issue would be the Books of the Dead and how he now has schizophrenia and also an unnerving amount of knowledge about half the cast, which. They could probably deal with that with time but it’s kind of unnerving at the moment.

[hawkinsschoolcounselor]

Could Mike’s upbringing in a seemingly emotionally distant family environment contribute to any psychological tendencies, such as attachment issues or a need to "prove" himself to others?

I really like the analysis and the fact that you use your psychological knowledge to analyze Mike and I would be very interested in your answers to my questions. :)

Oh, Mike definitely has some attachment issues that likely stem from his upbringing. I wrote about it here, if you haven't read it already.

Mike feels a need to perform, to fit into a role that he feels makes him worth others' love. This could come from a internalized sense that his true self is undeserving.

This is by no means a slam dunk analysis, of course. While Ted has always been portrayed as emotionally distant, we don't know how he was back when Mike was born. We do see moments where he bonds with Holly, so it is possible that it was the same when Nancy and Mike were little, too. Karen also seems to have always been a loving, doting mother, even if she never seemed to be able to connect with her children as they got older.

I start to wonder if maybe the Wheeler children's issues start later in life. Holly does seem more or less happy. This surely comes in part due to her ignorance of everything, but that goes hand in hand with her worldview being mostly confined to her own immediate environment. Unlike Mike and Nancy, and their parents before them, Holly has yet to feel any societal pressures to conform beyond those set down by her parents (and she has no real reason to push back against them).

Mike is and always has been an outcast. That may have been somewhat acceptable when he was little, but, as he got older, there were pressures to be more masculine. We don't see this explicitly in his story, but there are elements there. His bully is very physically aggressive, and the surprise on Lucas and Dustin's faces suggest Mike never fought back before. Karen makes him pack away and donate his toys, something he chafes against. Ted uses sports metaphors when disciplining Mike that fail to resonate with him.

However, there are hints that Mike admires these features. His own chosen D&D identity is that of the paladin, the knight in shining armor. Paladins are strong, courageous, and charismatic. They stand up for the downtrodden and smite evil, even at risk of their own well-being. This is Mike's ideal self, and he's willing to go into it whole hog. We know from the original show pitch that Mike uses D&D as an escape. He uses it to be someone he wishes he could be in real life. If we go back to the bullying example, what did it take for Mike to finally fight back? Someone was insulting Will, someone who would have torn Mike apart if El weren't there. In fact, later on, Mike jumped off a cliff at the same bully's ultimatum in order to save Dustin.

While I do think Mike has a self-esteem issue, it could also be a matter of him holding others' well-being above his own. It's the classic hero complex. Mike can't resist the opportunity to save others because he sees the inherent goodness in doing so, much like a classic paladin would. He's Lawful Good, through and through (though he probably leans more towards the Good than the Lawful). He may have only taken El in because he thought she could help him find Will, but he still gave her shelter for the night, regardless, because that's the sort of person he is.

Mike wants to be good. The problem is that he doesn't see how he can do good without acts of heroism. Will didn't fall in love with Mike because of his heroics. Will fell in love with plain old Mike. This is the season 5 story element that I want to see most. I need Mike to learn that he doesn't need to be playing a role in order to earn love. He just needs to be Mike. He spends nearly all of season 3 and all his time in California before El leaves playing a role, and it causes friction in his relationships. However, his role was twisted from his ideal of a paladin to that of someone who is "cool" or "manly"(from a teenager's perspective). When he takes off this mask, when he's alone with Will, we see the real Mike again, the one who we saw before he left for California. Somewhere along the line, Mike decided that what El wants him to be (or what he thinks El wants him to be) is more important than who he really is. We'll have to see where things go from here, because Mike wasn't really able to help El by playing a role. It, in fact, harmed her.

The trouble with psychoanalyzing fictional characters with any real accuracy is that it presumes they were written with these concepts in mind. I'd wager most of the writers have not studied psychology in enough depth to do so. Still, it's a fun exercise that still has some likelihood to be accurate if the writers tried to write the characters with any consistency and realism.

[cillianmurphysdimples]

A female Y/N / Cillian fanfic (Part Nineteen)

Absolutely not based on anything real at all, all totally fictional, fanciful, and is all total bollocks.

Warnings for sexual references and language. Adult themes. Not suitable for under 18s.

We Got Issues

Part Nineteen: Y/Ns anxiety is creeping up, but so are Cillian's attempts to ensure she feels secure, and loved,despite anything she might be led to believe by her anxiety. [Anxiety themes. Fluffy/Sweet] (no grey hair GIFs for being snuggly at home so having to go with TDS)

@remembering-angels @dragonsneversharetheirtreasure @aesthetic0cherryblossom @meister95 @vivianleighwishesshewasme @lavender-haze-01 @meadowshelby @strangeions @watermeezer

--------

Monday evening, and finally having Cillian to yourself entirely, was a relief when it eventually arrived. Cillian had left the house early in the morning to drive Aran into school, and bring Malachy back with him. Síle and Griff had left a little before two in the afternoon, and the morning had been a loud affair while Malachy had been in to visit and spurred on another round of skipping down memory lane for Síle. You'd found yourself spending the whole day just anticipating the moment when Cillian would lock the door behind the final one to leave, and secure the final twenty four hours ahead of you with nobody else around, even though you had been working for most of the day. You'd made the decision to bring your laptop to the kitchen, just so you weren’t locked away, and you had both enjoyed their chats in the background and wished you'd never made the choice at the same time. You are in the kitchen, piling the last of the day's dishes into the dishwasher, when you hear the front door open then close. After a moment, Cillian scuffs his feet on the walk towards you from the front door. “Alone now then, so.” He says, his accent still thicker after his sister's presence. He's just returned from bringing Malachy back home, and had obviously also picked up Aran from school as he'd been gone for a little while. Straightening up from the dishwasher as you close the door, you smile when he stops before the island and pushes his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “You want tea?” He offers as he moves across to the kettle.

“Yeah, thanks.” You smile. “I've been waiting for it to be quiet all weekend and now it is, the silence is deafening.” You frown, and when he looks over his shoulder at you, you can see he looks a little confused at your comment. You climb into one of the stools at the island. “Ignore me,” you say to his back. “What is it that you say about me? I'm maudlin.”

“What’re ya maudlin over?” He asks and you can hear the smirk on his lips.

You shrug and sigh, “Not sure. Just feel a bit, I don't know, flat?” You raise your eyebrows as he turns to you, two mugs in hand. “Probably the weekend. It's been busy, even if Síle and Griff are adults and can sort themselves, you know what I mean? I think I've been on all weekend and now I feel like…” you roll your eyes. “I don't know what I feel.”

“You're probably gearing up the anxiety for tomorrow.” He says, and he sounds gentler than he did a moment before. “And sure didn't you say yesterday the hormones are mad?”

You tut, “Yeah, maybe you're just as well going back to England if I feel like this now.” You smirk, squashing down the unnameable feeling. You pick up the mug he has pushed towards you and wrinkle your nose at the smell. “What is that?” You frown at him.

“That green tea you like,” he says, and he raises one eyebrow. “What's up with ya?” He smirks, his accent making him all but sing the final word.

“Are you sure? It smells awful.” You bring the mug under your nose again and then quickly place it down. “Sorry, Cill, I can't drink that.”

“Sure, leave it then. Will I make you coffee?” he offers. You shake your head. “Well come on, we'll sit down in here, enjoy the quiet.” he jerks his head towards the sofa and you follow behind him as he disappears around the wall. On the sofa, he holds out his left arm and smiles, waiting for you to curl in against him. It's not an offer you ever refuse - not unless you're really annoyed with him - and you move in close and draw up your legs onto the seat, and rest your head against his shoulder when his arm closes around you.

“Malachy good going home?” You ask, eyes on the TV as Cillian uses the controls to scout through.

“Yeah, grand,” he says, “I got Aran there, he'd an extra half hour for some revision thing.” He silences for a moment as he yawns, then moans as he shakes his head. “I'm wrecked,” he sniffs.

“You want an early night?” You ask. It's just after six o'clock now, and you're not intending the night to be this early, but you feel yourself that you wouldn't mind falling into bed earlier than usual.

“Ah, we'll see.” He says, and pulls his arm around you a little more. “Sure we'll be lazy tomorrow anyway, yeah? I know you've work, like, but still.”

“No, I took a half day, I'm only working for the afternoon.” You say as you move your head, snuggling in against him more. “So we can have a lie in I suppose.” You fall quiet, and he finishes his tea before he's even selected anything on the TV. “Did Aran do that thing at school today?” You ask, and as the words come out you feel your stomach flip and you realise you're feeling more regarding what Cillian had said yesterday then you'd let on. He clears his throat and the sound vibrates deeply in your ear where you're resting against him.

“Eh, yeah he did, I think.” He says.

“Did he mention it?” You ask, a little annoyed when he doesn't elaborate.

“Y/N, you're only asking because it's getting at ya.” He says, and once again he pulls you towards him. “I'm sorry I brought it up now, and I'm sorry he felt the way he did, I can't explain it. But don't be wrecking your head over, like you said to me. It's school stuff, and sure it has no bearing on us here.”

“No, maybe it doesn't.” You say, but you leave out the fact that the more you've considered it, the more it has made you feel that once again you're the other woman.

“Y/N,” he almost moans your name, like he is annoyed, “I don't agree with what he said, or planned to do, and I'm sorry. But you can't let it get inside your head and make you feel like…whatever it is. You were right there yesterday - he's a teenager. And I know he will feel a different way over things as he gets older and thinks back. I wish I knew what was wrong with him, and sure maybe I'll get the opportunity to talk to him about it if he'll even open up. But you can't let it change things here. He's grand in the house, so just don't be wrecking your head over it.”

You sigh. “It's easy for you to say, though. He's your son. He's got past you and Yvonne splitting. In his and Malachy's view, you and I got together very quickly after you two separated. I know they don't know about us seeing one another before, but they saw me as jumping in on you when you left her. It upset them, as well as dealing with you and her being apart. And, yeah, I know he comes here and he's fine, and we laugh, and he even texts occasionally, but maybe he still feels like I pushed into your life and ruined any chance of you and his Mum getting back together?” you sit up a little bit, still with his arm around you, and look up to see his face. “He is entitled to leave me off his work. I'm not really family. But I don't want it to be happening if it's part of some big shift in how he feels and it's going to go on to be a big problem. You say he's changed, and I agree. Maybe we need to work out why properly, instead of just hoping he'll be alright.”

He purses his lips and sighs through his nose, and you wonder if you've upset him now. You wonder if you've ruined your last few hours by inviting a row. But he pulls you closer again, “I'll get him on the phone, or video or whatever. I'll see if he'll talk to me while I'm away.” He says in a calm and quiet voice. “You didn't come in and ruin anything and they know that. They do.” He's trying to reassure you, and you know that he might be right, but you also know that the minds of kids are a mystery to you.

You don't say anything else, not wanting to ruin the rest of your time together before he disappears again, and try to push that concern away with the others. You snuggle into him more and sigh contentedly as he once again tightens his arm around you. You remind yourself that you've known all this time, despite your anxieties, that the one solid thing in your life together has been him.

Your eyes shoot open and the darkness of the bedroom replaces the scenes of your vivid dream. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you feel breathless. It's grounding, though, to hear Cillian's snuffled sleepy breaths beside you. You turn into your back and stare above you, not that you can see anything in the room, and push your right hand under the back of your head. It was that same dream from nights before, only this time Aran was standing beside his parents with a strange look on his face. You turn your head slightly, hoping for enough adjustment in your vision to see Cillian, and can just make out his hair above the duvet, but only because the dark colour of the bedding is starkly different to his silver locks. You don't want to wake him, even though you do want to wake him, and you try not to shift about too much. You turn your head back to staring at the ceiling, able to make out the light shade up there, and try to remove the remnants of the dream from your mind. You still don't fully understand why this dream exists - anxious though you are, you don't suspect at all that Cillian has plans to shag her on the side. He'd reassured you enough that the life he had with Yvonne had been rocky for a while, and that leaving her wasn't solely down to your meeting one another, but clearly something in your mind was still worried. Or was it symbolism - was her being pregnant and him beside her indicative of your jealousy of their past, and that you standing there on the ferry with your own pregnancy just your mind's way of saying you needed to sail that dream (that you'd worked hard to come around to) out to sea? Or was that you during your affair, heading alone to England for a termination, and that the image of Cillian and his pregnant wife was just a reminder of why he didn't come with you - why he couldn't come with you?

But mostly you wonder why it matters now. He loves you, and you love him, and in the three years since the finalised divorce and your entirely public life together, he had never made you feel he would return to Yvonne. Your anxiety did, sure, but not Cillian. So is the dream only about this recent bump, the one-eighty of his feelings and your slow road ahead to get on board? Or is it because he'd told you he really did want to have a family with you, but that he is too afraid of what it would do to everyone else? Whatever it is, it makes your heart beat too quickly and your stomach sink low. You don't want this torment, you want to turn the page and just keep going. You don't want to be too much for him, so that he ever regrets his choices. Again you know it's your anxiety that brews the thoughts, but they persist nonetheless. You sigh, and you know sleep is gone. You move slowly as you turn to your side, your back to Cillian's sleeping form, and reach for your phone. It's two am, and while lying here and either wisting for him wakefulness, or returning to sleep, would be the ideal want fulfilled, you know that if you stay here, tossing and turning, he'll eventually be disturbed and then he'll cut through everyone in bad humour the entire day ahead. Keeping hold of your phone, you slip quietly out of the bed and pull on an old, stolen hoodie of Cillian's with a ripped front pocket and bleach marks by the neckline. You claimed it when he said he'd intended to throw it away, and now you wore it in place of a dressing gown - in rotation with other hoodies and sweaters - and push your feet into your slippers. You leave the room as quietly as you could, closing the door behind you, and make your way quietly down the stairs.

You put on the light above the kitchen island and stand for a moment, considering whether coffee is a good idea or not, before you fill the kettle and make one anyway. You take it with you to the sofa and sink into the corner comfortably. You begin scrolling through your phone, stalking through images on Facebook, and pause when you come across some pictures on a news page of Cillian in full Tommy Shelby gear paired with photos of Ned, Sophie and Packy. You deliberately avoid reading the text, but you smile as you thumb through the images. God, he looks so serious, doesn't it? You think to yourself. Even as Packy and Sophie look cheerful, Cillian's face is serious and focused, and you both admire it and wish he'd take it stick out of his arse for a moment. But then again, you'd come to realise what he was like whilst working - he had very little room in his head for much else outside of the work - and knew it now to be true to form. You sip your coffee as you scroll on, and find yourself staring - rather amusingly - at a terribly obvious AI image of Cillian as Tommy. You laugh to yourself, wondering how people fell for it, but also wondering why anyone would do it at all. There's implications of danger, there, you realise, but you know your anxiety will run away with you if you focus on it too much. Scrolling away, you find a post from Malachy from earlier today, with photos of himself and his Cillian, Síle and Griff, and one of you you hadn't realised he'd taken as you're standing by the kettle making coffee, and a photo of four lined up beer bottles. Whilst he hasn't tagged you in it, he's mentioned your presence in his accompanying text: ‘Lunch with Daddio and Y/N, Síle and Griff. Tell no-one, but we drank the potent stuff 😂’. You can't help smiling - he's got a great sense of humour, similar to Cillian's but more overt - and you click the like button on the post.

It surprises you a moment later to receive a text message, and you slide down the notification bar to see Cillian's name. You flick open the message and smirk like an idiot, not sure if you're offended or amused.

“Got up for the toilet and only realised you were gone when I came back. I swear I love you. Get up here you mad woman it's three o'clock in the morning.”

He's sleepy, clearly, and probably a bit dazed, but the message has made you chuckle. And knowing he's awake is selfishly a nice feeling, too. You get up from the sofa without replying, and bring your cup to the kitchen. You plunge downstairs into darkness again and make your way up the stairs, wondering if your man will even still be awake when you get there. So great was this man's love (and needs) for sleep, he was known to nod off in loud rooms and famously couldn't cope with being tired! You find him curled up in bed when you enter the bedroom, and while it's dark you can just about make him out.

“Where were ya?” He asks, croaky and grumbly, and you smile as the sound of his voice makes you feel calm.

You place your phone onto the night stand and tear the hoodie off. As you kick off your slippers, you throw your hoodie onto the chair in the corner of the room. “I couldn't sleep, so I went downstairs,” you say as you return to the bed and climb back into your side. “I didn't want to wake you up.”

He grumbles deep in his throat as he shuffles close to you immediately after you lie down, and you feel so safe when his arm wraps around your middle, and his body moves close behind yours. “what woke ya?”

You consider not saying anything, but you do. “Just a dream.” You close your eyes in the darkness, and settle into him. “I've had it before, but it was a bit different. I don't know,” you shrug, “It's silly.”

“Sure it's only a dream,” he mutters softly. “Just the brain doing weird shit.” He smirks.

“Yeah,” you agree. “Really weird.”

It's quiet for a minute and his breathing is slow, and you think he's fallen asleep, but then he shifts his arm and taps his fingers against your belly, “Did you get coffee?”

You scoff, “Why?”

“Ah, I can smell it on ya,” he says then emits a sleepy little giggle that makes you want to laugh out loud and squeeze him tightly simultaneously. “Right, c'mon, no more messing. Sure, it's bedtime.” he says playfully. “Sleeping now, c’mon.”

“You're an idiot.” You laugh, resting your hand over his on your belly. “I love you.”

“Good job,” he mumbles, “Cause I love you too.” He follows up his declaration with an inhaled yes that sends a rush of affection straight through you. God, I love him.

[quibbs126]

So after the last batch of Cyberverse sketches, I tried to do more here with Cyberverse Megatron specifically, since he kind of stuck himself in my brain, at least yesterday

Admittedly I wish I drew more, but by that last corner I just wasn’t sure what to draw. I actually did draw something, yet again trying to draw that one kissing meme thing with him and Optimus, but yet again it didn’t turn out right looking, so you don’t see it

But other than that, while I’m aware my drawings aren’t the best, I do think I’m at least getting the hang of drawing this version of Megatron. I’m aware his face is still off looking, but oh well

My only real thoughts for what to draw with him were “more of body”, “him thinking “oh no that’s hot” at something Optimus is doing”, “season 3 Megs” and “he drink coffee”. And also to attempt lineless

Note on that last thing, at least on the head, it’s not as difficult as I’d thought it’d be. I could probably do it, if I at least knew what I wanted to draw

I don’t really have much to say on the drawings themselves though? There isn’t much going on that I haven’t already said. All I can say is I tried to use screenshots for references more than usual, since I thought it’d help. I did stop at some point, but still

I don’t know how I feel about Cyberverse Megatron. I think he’s really only in my head because I was searching for Cyberverse megop fanfics after finishing the show

But also, he’s sort of your typical Megatron. An asshole, and usually the cause of alliances falling short and me saying “Megatron, you bitch”. Granted he’s not as evil as other Megatrons, at least most of the time, considering he was willing to destroy the AllSpark that one time, but it’s probably also because the Autobots and Decepticons have to team up so often in Seasons 2 and 3

But then there’s Season 3b Megatron, in which he has some adventure across the multiverse and comes back to help his universe, armed with his own Matrix and actually willing to save the day and have peace with Optimus and end the war, even if the planet is split in two. And at least in his initial appearance, he seems like he’s actually become at least a slightly better person

Like on one hand, I like this idea of him becoming better on his own time, and also we can just accept that maybe he’s become actually better since we don’t know what he was up to to cause this. But in the other, I really would have liked to see what he was up to. I guess they didn’t have enough time to show us

But yeah in 3b, he’s still an ass but he isn’t causing too much trouble, and is instead preparing for a worse threat to come, and then dies not as a villain, though he got taken out too quick to be called a hero in this scenario. Kind of disappointed he didn’t really get to do anything when the other Megatron showed up, would have been nice to see

But also I’m told that’s actually what kills him? He actually dies? I guess it is a more powerful version of him, but considering the other things other Megatrons have survived, and also we never really saw him die in the episode itself, considering he made noises of pain after being attacked and we just didn’t see him again after Bee took his Matrix, it feels kind of weak to me

I don’t know, his concepts in 3b are interesting to me

Also random side note, while I wasn’t expecting it, I appreciate his fusion cannon and mace having red lights instead of purple. I’m used to the purple but the red is consistent with the rest of his colors

Also there’s the subject of Cyberverse megop. It doesn’t have TFA’s issue of being strangers, in fact they seem to have known each other for a very long time and there’s no Elita or anything in this universe to be another past option for Optimus. And Megatron does do some bad things in this series, some worse than others, but also it seems like the characters of this show aren’t the most serious about this war, at least not like they are in Prime or something. Apparently every few millennia or so Optimus and Megatron try to have peace talks and negotiate, only for it to inevitably fall apart and things to start up again, and everyone’s just used to this

I think I can ship it, they have divorced energy and both sides are just used to it, including each other. They are in essence, the core values of typical megop I think, except they were actually on decent terms by the end of things, when Megatron dies. Sad that, why’d he have to die? At least make it heroic or something so he can go out with a bang

Yeah I don’t know, thought I should sprinkle in some thoughts on this version of Megatron while I’m here. I don’t have much honestly other than I think he’s fine and neat, and so is this version of the ship

I think I’m done now

[drmindbinder]

I hate to say it but every system under capitalism is set up this way, to maximize profits. Hospitals are the worst because they are labeled as non-profit. Such a lie. The insurance companies are their partners who deny claims when it’s not beneficial to them but they do it in the shadow of legalise so most people cannot understand what they are talking about. If it was not for Luigi shining a light on the issue a lot of folks still would not know what is going on in these industries.

Please do some research to understand what is really going on. I will help you get stared. Understand how John D. Rockefeller had a big part of why the system is set up this way, to keep you sick and maximize profit. Before Rockefeller’s intervention, most doctors used natural medicines to treat patiences. Rockefeller along with Andrew Carnegie paid for a report to demonize natural medicines, midwifes and other natural treatments that did not occur in hospitals. They wanted to centralize the medical and pharmacitical industry in a way so they could profit. For them, modernization was to treat not cure illness. The kicker is Rockefeller, an oil baron, influenced the pharmaceutical and medical industry to allow the use of oil byproduct in the manufacturing of drugs that are use to treat our illness. This byproduct plays a big part in creating a scenario of prolong treatment. The oil byproduct or petrochemicals are still used to make medicine today and this my friends is part of the problem. The profits from prolong treatment is why cures are not found.

If you want to fact check what I am saying please do the following

Please Google, “oil byproducts used in pharmaceutical industry”

“John D Rockefeller impact on the medical industry”

“John d rockefeller pharmaceutical”

I do not believe in conspiracy theories. Conspiracy theories are distraction used to confuse people. I know for a fact that there is no reason for the government or capitalist to hide what they are doing because the people cannot discern real from fake. Most people are working so hard to maintain thier lives that they cannot pay attention to what is really going on. Meanwhile, there are a set of TV stations that will broadcast an unbiased view of the government day to day activities (CSPAN family). You can also read what publicly traded companies are doing in their financial filings. Every once in a while you will catch the capitalist telling the true on TV. They won’t say it more than once and the news channel will not continuously broadcast what they said so you have to pay attention (ie Elon Musk salute, which they are trying to erase from the internet). Read more. Stop looking for people to confirm your bias ideas. Learn how to vet your ideals. Learn how to determine if a story is factual or not by find the source of the story.

[corner-collects-rocks]

elaborating time bc one person asked and that was enough :)

so this started bc i was thinking abt how Nathan and Riko died in very similar fashions. Shot by ex-brothers, ones which were most likely never considered as family(Nathan by his brother in law, who was only married into the family for to strengthen connections in the states. Riko by a brother once removed, who maybe in another world could’ve loved him like a brother but not in this one.)

then i started thinking about other ways that riko and nathan paralleled each other and over all it boiled down to: they are both monsters you have to look over your shoulder for. yet they gain a lot of their power from attempting(or succeeding) to seem like they are the top of the food chain and that they can get away with whatever they want. they will also go to extreme lengths to ensure your compliance and or suffering(torture, “hunting” neil ((riko back tracing his finger print, nathan actually chasing him)) willing to wait to get what they want because in their minds they will get it (this ones a little bit of a stretch but for Riko he was sure Neil would become a raven. Nathan and his countdown) so on and so forth. they had pretty similar playbooks when it came to getting neil to do what they wanted (threaten the foxes or andrew) and im sure theres more stuff i had in my head that im not thinking of now.

now why would Nathan want Riko as a son (hypothetically) I dont think Nathan would necessarily want the exact form of Riko we get in the books but i think if Riko had been raised by Nathan instead of Tetsuji or if Riko had apprenticed under Nathan I feel like it would’ve been a deadly combo. this is largely due to riko’s Intricate and Endless Daddy Issues™️. in my mind Riko would take every command and order Nathan would give him and he’d do it with pride. now at the end of the day this still probably would’ve ended up with Riko in the nest, but i think if Riko had bern groomed by Nathan to take over the Butcher’s business and made being a second son a staple of pride and a way to still be involved/help out the family while still being subservient to the first son i think he could’ve been a real menace and maybe even an asset to the main family.

idk this really comes down to is i think riko is very much a product of his environment (and his lack of ability to cope with the fact that not matter what he did he’d never be enough and he has to live with it) but i think had he been given a chance like this to prove himself useful? well he probably still would’ve gotten over eager and fucked it for himself but i think for a solid little bit he would’ve been the perfect butcher prodigy

(i think thats everything i wanted to say, i just came home from work so apologies if this doesnt make sense or isnt exactly what i wanted to say but i am tired and i aint rereading allat.)

[ssweeterthanfiction]

Wait for your love.

content warnings (for the whole series): mentions of drugs and alcohol, age gap, gaslighting, billy being TOXICCCCC, mentions of suicide/suicidal thoughts, mental health issues

↳ currently playing ;

Midnight's Regrets - 1978

1:56 ——————•———— 3:24

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In July of 1978 Y/N made her reappearance.

Y/N: "I was gone for about a year." "And for the first 6 months, I was focusing on getting myself together. I got clean and started writing again." "I was slowly putting together a small album. I had told myself that if I wrote about change and forgiveness, I could heal." "I had heard...rumblings that the band was preparing to release a new album, but I had tried to stay away from the media." "That was until this...one interview came out." "I forgot...who was interviewing the band, I just- I remember being on the phone with one of my friends and I had the radio on. It was just playing in the background, but then I heard a familiar voice." "I told my friend that I would give her a call back. So I hung up the phone and turned up the volume on the radio." "It was Billy. He sounded...drunk. Really drunk. And- I wanted to stop listening, but the minute he brought up my name, I couldn't." "He called me selfish. Said I used him. That I didn’t care about the band, that I just wanted to be bigger than all of them." "He said it- he said it so cruelly. And the worst part was that some of the fans believed it." "I- I didn't know how to react. I was just- angry." "Here he was calling me selfish and say that I used him, while in reality, he put me through so much."

Her voice shakes, and she takes a deep breath before continuing.

"And then, as if that wasn’t enough, a month later, I see pictures of him in a magazine with some girl who looked like me. Like, exactly like me." "It hurt. It really hurt. All those times that he told me I was replaceable, that he told me that I was just another pretty face and that he could have any girl he wants, it all felt- it all felt real when I saw those pictures."

Karen: "Oh, the lookalike? Yeah, we all noticed it. It was... unsettling, to say the least."

Graham: "We told him it was weird, but Billy being Billy, he brushed us off. Said we were imagining things."

Warren: "Nah. That wasn’t imagination. That was some next-level shit."

Y/N: "At that point, the album I was working on? It wasn’t about forgiveness anymore. It wasn’t about love or hope. It was about him. About the anger, the betrayal, the heartbreak. About every time he let me down and every time I let myself believe he wouldn’t." "I didn’t want to make an album that just said, ‘This is what you did to me.’ I wanted to make one that screamed, ‘This is what you’ll never do to me again.’" "The funny thing is, I didn’t write it for him. I wrote it for me. But I knew he’d hear it. I knew he’d know. And I wanted him to feel every single word."

  🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

You were at a radio station to make your first step back into the spotlight, everything was ready to go. You just hoped that he would be listening.

You watched the show host stop the music to speak into the mic, "And now, ladies and gentlemen, we have a very special guest with us tonight. This guest has been out of the spotlight for about a year, and now she's back to tell us what's been going on in her life" "Please, give it up for Y/N L/N!"

The sound of applause fills the studio as you slide into the chair across from the host, offering a small, nervous smile

"Y/N, welcome back! I have to say, a lot of people have been wondering where you’ve been and what you’ve been up to. So, let’s start there. How are you feeling?"

"I feel..good. I’ve been focusing on myself, my health, and really just trying to find myself again."

"Well, you’ve certainly been missed. Your fans have been waiting for this moment for a while now. What made you decide to step back into the spotlight?"

"Honestly, I think it was time. I needed to disappear for a bit to figure out who I was outside of everything else. But I missed making music, missed connecting with people. It’s why I started in the first place. So, here I am."

"So...I hear that you have a special announcement for us, something you've been working on while you were gone."

You laugh, "Ah yes! Um...this is something very special to me. And I'm so excited to everyone to listen to it. So my brand new album, Midnight's Regrets will be in stores...tomorrow at midnight."

"An album? Wow you must've been busy while you were gone! Is there anything you can tell us about it?"

"Midnight’s Regrets is…probably the most honest thing I’ve ever written. It wasn’t the album I originally set out to make....but sometimes life takes you in a different direction. It’s raw, it’s vulnerable, and it’s everything I needed to say."

"Now is there....anything or anyone that inspired this album?"

"It's...really just about the past few years."

"Well, I can’t wait to hear it, and I’m sure your fans feel the same. Y/N, thank you for joining us tonight. It’s so good to have you back!"

"Thank you! It feels good to be back."

  🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

Karen: "We were in the studio just hanging out and we heard her voice. Billy told Graham to turn up the volume and everything just went quiet."

Graham: "Billy tensed up when she said she was releasing a new album. Like visibly tensed up."

Warren: "Nobody said anything for a while. It wasn't until the lookalike came in...."

Eddie: "No one liked the lookalike. She was rude, entitled, and just nothing like Y/N. Honestly I don't even think Billy liked her. He was just using her to fill Y/N's spot. Which was still fucked up."

Daisy: "Billy left with the lookalike for a while. This was normal he'd leave with her, they go and probably hook up and then she'd come back attached to him. Warren bet Eddie 20 bucks that he was gonna break up with her. Eddie bet 40 against it." "When he came back this time...the lookalike was nowhere to be seen."

Warren: "I asked him where she was...And then he mumbled something like 'she's gone'." "Eddie slipped me my 40 a little while after."

Y/N: "I walked out the the interview with my stomach in knots. I was so nervous for the release, I really was. I was nervous about how people you react to it, I was nervous about what the press would say..." "And I was nervous about what Billy would think of it." "I remembered how I felt listening to Aurora. I was just...in shock and in awe because it was the best album that the band created." "I was just hoping Billy would have a similar reaction to my album."

Eddie: "We all stayed late at the studio that night. We ordered pizza, Warren ran out to get beers and soda, and then at exactly midnight on the dot, Teddy came in with two vinyls." "He placed them both on the table and said 'Listen to the one on the right first' and then he left."

Karen: "Billy was just, staring at them, he didn't move. So I grabbed the first one and opened it."

Y/N: "I wrote a sort of prologue to be put on the inside." "Midnight is the hour where everything feels raw. The highs, the lows, the moments you wish you could forget but never do—they all come alive under the quiet of the moon. This album wasn’t supposed to exist the way it does now. It was going to be a story of forgiveness, love, and second chances. But life has a way of rewriting your narrative for you." "These songs are a reflection of everything I’ve carried: the heartbreak, the betrayal, the anger, and, most importantly, the resilience. They’re not just about what happened to me—they’re about what I refused to let define me." "I wrote this for anyone who’s ever felt shattered and wondered if they could ever put themselves back together. I promise, you can. I promise, you will." "And to the one who broke me: I hope you’re listening. Because I always have."

  🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

As Karen finished reading the prologue, a haunting silence took over the room. She carefully placed the record on the player, the soft hum of the start up began to play. Taking the tracklist in her hand, Karen read from it, "First one is...How to disappear."

The soft beat of the song filled the room, then her vocals came in.

"It sounds like her older stuff" Graham says.

A hum of agreement went through the room.

Then the next track began to play.

"Happier Than Ever," Karen says.

The soft strumming of guitar filled the room, it was angelic sounding. Billy didn't say anything, your voice sounded gentle, almost a whisper, as sing about being happy alone, about finally finding yourself. But then the shift happens.

"You call me again, drunk in your Benz. Driving home under the influence. You scared me to death, but I'm wasting my breath. 'Cause you only listen to your fucking friends."

Everyone went quiet.

"She fucking went there" Warren whispers to Eddie.

They all looked over to Billy who was looking down, his hands balled into fists.

"'Cause I'd never treat me this shitty. You made me hate this city. And I don't talk shit about you. Never told anyone anything bad. 'Cause that shit's embarrassing, you were my everything. And all that you did was make me fucking sad."

Billy's thoughts were swirling, he felt a mess of regret and anger, not towards you, but towards himself. He treated you like shit, and now he was hearing how you truly felt.

 The track ended with the sound of crashing drums and a wailing guitar, leaving the room in a tense, suffocating silence. Before anyone could speak, the next track started, immediately shifting the mood.

The upbeat melody of 'love is embarrassing' filled the room.

"Loser who's not worth mentioning. My God, love's embarrassing as hell"

"It's catchy" Warren says, smirking drumming his fingers to the beat.

Before the group could fully process the last track, the next one began. The smooth, upbeat sound of 'Read your Mind' filled the room. 'Feather' had the same effect.

Karen tilted her head, listening closely. "She’s experimenting. This is different from anything she’s done before."

"I bet you those two will be the ones that the radios pick up." Eddie says.

Graham looks over at Billy, "Billy, you good?"

He doesn't say anything, he just grunts and nods.

As the next track begins to play, everyone had expected it to be another pop song, but nothing would prepare them for the whiplash of what was about to play.

The track opened with a slow, deliberate rhythm, a distant, echoing sound that seems to pull everyone’s attention into the quiet before your voice cut through the tension. It’s raw, soft, yet layered with emotion.

Karen’s face tightens as she listens, and she glances around at the rest of the group. Eddie's usual smirk is gone, replaced with a furrowed brow.

"Fell in love for the first time. With a friend, it's a good sign. Feelin' off when I feel fine. 21 took a lifetime. People say I look happy. Just because I got skinny. But the old me is still me and maybe the real me. And I think she's pretty."

Warren, who had been tapping his foot along to the previous tracks, suddenly stops and sits up straighter, the weight of the song sinking in. "Shit…" he mutters, his voice barely audible. "This one’s…heavy."

The song continues, and the production swirls around your voice, adding layers of echoing distortion, mirroring the chaos and confusion in the lyrics.

"I never did you wrong. And my, my patience is gone. And I, I never did you wrong. I loved you for so long"

The song begins to fade out, leaving an unsettling quiet in its wake. No one speaks immediately. Everyone is still processing the shift, the unexpected vulnerability.

The next 5 tracks, vampire, pretty isn't pretty, making the bed, the grudge, and logical, are like a punch to the gut for Billy.

"You can't love anyone, 'cause that would mean you had a heart"

"I could change up my body and change up my face. I could try every lipstick in every shade. But I'd always feel the same. 'Cause pretty isn't pretty enough"

"Another day pretendin' I'm older than I am. Another perfect moment that doesn't feel like mine. Another thing I forced to be a sign."

"And I doubt you ever think about the damage that you did. But I hold onto every detail like my life depends on it. My undying love, now I hold it like a grudge. And I hear your voice every time that I think I'm not enough"

"'Cause loving you is loving every, Argument you held over my head. Brought up the girls you could have instead. Said I was too young, I was too soft. Can't take a joke, can't get you off"

Every word, every line, every lyric, it hit Billy. He hurt you, badly. And now everyone would know how badly he did.

The room was silent.

Graham moved to the record player and stopped it. "Maybe we should take a break." he murmurs.

Billy shakes his head, "No- no let it keep playing," he says as his voice cracks.

The opening notes of 'Clean' began to play. It was vulnerable like the last few tracks, but it felt more hopeful.

"It sounds clean...does that make sense?" Warren says, hoping to lighten the mood.

"Ten months sober, I must admit. Just because you're clean, don't mean you don't miss it. Ten months older, I won't give in. Now that I'm clean, I'm never gonna risk it."

The words strike a chord in Billy. He knows there's a double meaning. You're sober, you're clean of drugs, but you're also clean of him.

The sparkling beat of 'Bejeweled' then filled the room, everyone’s heads snaped up, and for the first time in a while, there’s a slight tension breaking in the air.

  🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

Karen: "While we were listening to the album...I think we were all just a bit worried with how Billy would react to Better Than Revenge."

Warren: Laughing "Yeah, I mean, I knew it was coming. You can't hide something like that forever."

Daisy: "Y/N asked for our help. She needed something that felt raw, something real. We couldn't say no to her."

Eddie: "I think we would've gotten away with it if Billy didn't have such a good ear."

Graham: "The minute it started playing, I knew he knew. I mean open a song with Warren playing drums? That's a giveaway automatically."

Warren: "What can I say? I didn’t hold back." he grins "If she needed something to match the fire, we gave it to her."

  🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

As the song blasts through the speakers, the energy in the room shifts. The aggressive drums hit, then the guitar riff, and Billy’s jaw clenches as he hears your voice.

"He’s not a saint and he’s not what you think. He’s an actress, He’s better known for the things that he does, On the mattress."

Billy’s eyes narrow, his fists tightening at his sides. The words feel like daggers. But it’s not just the lyrics. The way the song sounds, the drums, the guitar, the bass, everything. He knows that sound.

He grabs the lyric book and flips it open.

Track 14- Better Than Revenge.

His eyes scan the page, and there on the bottom of the page Graham, Warren, Eddie, Karen and Daisy are credited as part of the production of the song.

"What the hell is this?" he says, throwing the booklet onto the table. "You guys helped her with this?"

The room goes quiet, the song continuing to play in the background.

"She came to us Billy. She asked for our help." Karen says.

Billy's voice rises, sharp, accusatory and a little hurt. "And none of you thought to tell me?"

Eddie steps forward, arms crossed defensively. "We promised not to."

Billy scoffs, "You all took her side. You didn’t even think about how this would make me look."

"This wasn’t about sides, Billy. It was about making sure she didn’t feel alone in this. You had your chance to make things right, and you didn’t." Karen says, glaring at him.

"I didn’t-" Billy starts, but Warren cuts him off.

"You didn’t do anything, man. That’s the problem. You're getting mad over what? The fact that she come to you?" Warren says, "You hurt her, you can't expect her to come to you for help."

The song fades out, leaving a tense silence in its place. Billy was fuming. But he couldn't find it in himself to leave.

The final song on the first vinyl began to play.

Billy sat back down and took the lyric booklet back into his hands, track 15- Out Of The Woods.

The sound was different, everything about this whole album was different.

"The rest of the world was black and white. But we were in screaming color."

Billy began to really listen to the lyrics, the way you described everything was so...perfect. Like he could really picture everything.

Graham speaks up. "She’s not pulling punches Billy, she’s not out to destroy you. She’s trying to make sense of it all. Of you. Of herself."

"To move the furniture so we could dance. Baby, like we stood a chance. Two paper airplanes flying, flying, flying. And I remember thinking."

"It’s not just about the bad, is it?" Billy murmurs, his words just loud enough so they could hear him.

Daisy shakes her head, "No, it’s not. It's about the good, the bad, the messy in-between. She's just telling what you guys had."

The final chorus plays, "Are we out of the woods yet? Are we in the clear yet?" echoing over and over again, sounding haunting and hopeful all at once.

  🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

Daisy: "When we finished the first record...it was just quiet." "We were all feeling different emotions." "But I have to say, I was fucking proud of her. She- she took something so horrible and turned it into a masterpiece."

Karen: "We were confused why there were two different vinyls, but after Graham took a closer look at the jacket of it, we realized the second one was the deluxe version of it."

Graham: "On the inside of it, it said there were 4 additional tracks. So I took the first one off and then put the second one on." "I sat back down and read the song titles...and I knew we were in for another ride."

  🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

Nobody speaks, they only listen. And the lyrics, once again, hit Billy like a fucking bus.

"Cause you kiss me and it stops time. And I'm yours, but you're not mine…"

Billy rubs his face with both hands, his fingers tugging at his hair. Everything rushes back, the whispered promises, the unspoken words, and all the ways he let her down. He slams his hand against the armrest of the chair, his frustration barely contained. "Jesus Christ."

"Why'd you have to make me love you? I said, 'I love you.' You say nothin' back."

This hits Billy like a freight train.

"She's- She's making me seem like the bad guy!" he scoffs, "After I wrote Aurora for her- after I poured out my entire heart on a fucking album for her!"

"Billy, shut up and listen to the lyrics!" Daisy shouts, "You fucking hurt her! You only wrote Aurora because of the fact you hurt her! She's allowed to feel how she wants to! She's allowed to feel angry! She's allowed to feel sad! So just- listen to her lyrics!"

Billy finally shuts up. He leans back in his chair and the next song starts up.

The echoes of 'Is It Over Now?' fill the room. And then...

"You dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor. You search in every maiden's bed for something greater"

"When you lost control. Red blood, white snow. Blue dress on a boat. Your new girl is my clone"

"If she's got (y/c) eyes, I will surmise that you'll probably date her. You dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor. You search in every model's bed for something greater"

"I was hoping you'd be there. And say the one thing. I've been wanting. But no."

Billy's head was now in his hands again. His heart feels like it's sinking to the bottom of his chest, his mind spiraling with thoughts of all the mistakes he made. And then before he could fully collect his thoughts, the next song starts playing.

While the opening notes of 'I Wish You Would' started to play, Billy's heart skipped a beat.

"I wish you would come back. Wish I'd never hung up the phone like I did. I wish you knew that. I'd never forget you as long as I'd live. And I wish you were right here, right now. It's all good. I wish you would"

"I wish we could go back. And remember what we were fighting for. Wish you knew that. I miss you too much to be mad anymore. And I wish you were right here, right now. It's all good. I wish you would"

"We're a crooked love. In a straight line down. Makes you wanna run and hide. Then it makes you turn right back around"

"You always knew how to push my buttons. You gave me everything and nothing. This mad, mad love makes you come rushing. Stand back where you stood. I wish you would, I wish you would"

Billy’s chest tightens as the final line rings in his ears. He wishes, too. He wishes he could take it all back, wishes he could undo the damage he caused. But hearing the lyrics, hearing your regret, he knows it’s too late for that. You're not coming back, not in the way he wants. The realization washes over him, leaving him feeling hollow inside.

But then the sparkly distorted intro of 'Karma' starts playing.

"This is the last one" Graham says as he reads off the vinyl jacket.

It was a catchy song, similar to 'Bejeweled', it had that glittery sound.

Billy knew it was another song directed towards him, but when he heard "Cause karma is my boyfriend" his heart sunk.

Boyfriend.

Boyfriend?

A wave of jealousy, mixed with deep regret, crashes over him, had you moved on?

The song keeps going, and with every line, Billy’s heart breaks a little more.

“Karma is the guy on the screen. Coming straight home to me.”

He could hear the smile in your voice, he could hear how happy you were. He was happy you were happy, but he wanted you to be happy with him.

The song ends, and Billy looks at everyone.

"So...guess she's moved on." he says.

"We don't know that Billy" Graham says, "She could've just- written it because it rhymed or something..."

Billy shakes his head, "No...that's not like her. She doesn't just write out lyrics for nothing."

Graham looks over at Billy, his expression filled with a mixture of concern and frustration. "I’m just saying, man, we don’t know for sure. We don’t know what’s going on in her head. She could be trying to move on, or she could just be putting her feelings into music. You can’t take everything in her songs at face value."

Billy scoffs, rubbing his hands over his face, trying to scrub away the frustration that’s been building up for hours. "No, Graham. I’ve been around long enough to know when she’s really saying something. And she’s saying something. She’s telling me, loud and clear, that she’s moved on."

"She’s telling you that she’s moved forward, not necessarily on. There's a difference." Daisy says in a defensive tone.

"Moved on- moved forward- same shit. What difference does it make?" Billy says, getting up and pacing the room. "I wrote Aurora for her. It was for her. All of it. I thought- I thought it was going to be enough."

"You can't just expect one album to fix everything Billy" Karen says, "You hurt her, badly. An album won't fix that."

Billy remains silent for a moment, processing everything they’re saying.

But then his attention went back to the record player as it started to play this awful sounding static.

  🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

Y/N: "On the jacket of the vinyl for the deluxe version of Midnight's Regrets there were only four new tracks listed."

"There was really five."

  🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

"Graham, why didn't you turn the player off?"

Graham walks over to the player, "There's still grooves, there's another song."

Not even a second later, the room is filled with the haunting opening notes of a new song.

Everyone stands in silence and confusion as the song plays.

"You were born bluer than a butterfly. Beautiful and so deprived of oxygen. Colder than your father's eyes. He never learned to sympathize with anyone."

"I don't blame you. But I can't change you. Don't hate you. But we can't save you."

"You were born reaching for your mother's hands. Victim of your father's plans to rule the world. Too afraid to step outside. Paranoid and petrified of what you've heard"

The words pierce Billy's already broken heart, he can't hold it in anymore. He feels the tears trickling down his face, and when he looks around, everyone else has tears too.

Your voice is so hauntingly beautiful, they've never heard you like this.

As the song fades out, they can hear what sounds like crying under all the instrumentals.

The silence afterward is deafening.

"Billy…" Graham says, his voice breaking the stillness.

"I fucked up," Billy whispers, the words barely audible. "I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know if I even can anymore."

A/N: HOLY FUCK THIS WAS A LONG CHAPTER 😭 anyways I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOYED!!!! this was honestly so like stressful to work on cause of the lyrics BUT I PULLED IT OFF I THINK! anyways next chapter will probably be out sometime next week and hopefully the next chapter of GOU will be out by sunday night or monday night!!

heres all the songs from readers album (IN ORDER) -> 1978 album

[cybershock24601]

A woman who openly dislikes you also being basically the only person who speaks up from you is absolutely brain breaking. Especially bc with Illario it's like, it would be easy to fit in his worldview if she was a conquest or in some way attracted to him or something but she is very much not. Everything about their relationship suggests that the best behavior he can expect from her towards him is bare minimum civility and that is shown in most aspects of their interactions so what's it mean that "bare minimum civility" is treating him better than most of the people in his life.

Rook and Illario's relationship is insane to me because as I've said before my Rook was the one who advised Lucanis to lock Illario up for what at the end of the day were political reasons and absolutely gives him shit when he deserves it but is also the only person in Villa Dellamorte to really have Illario's back in a lot of ways.

Lucanis and Illario's relationship is so defined by Caterina's treatment and abuse of them that Lucanis is never going to be able to speak up for Illario when he can't even speak up for himself and I can see a young child who sees the safety in being the favorite not really wanting to risk losing that favor by stepping out of line and also starts to subconsciously rationalize and internalize Illario's harsh treatment from Caterina as Illario just not being as good as Lucanis. So much of Lucanis and Illario's dynamic was solidified as children and as neither one of them really had anyone close to them aside from each other there was never anything to really shake up their dynamic or cause them to really question it because that's just the way things are.

Enter Rook, especially a Rook who is not a Crow, who through their relationship with Lucanis is drawn into the family and gets to have a real good look at what the fuck is wrong with House Dellamorte. Rook's probably really quick to pick up on how Illario is treated in the family and sure Rook is pissed at him for what he's done to Lucanis and thinks he's an absolute idiot for working with the Venatori like he did, they still extend Illario empathy and some basic human decency which is so much more then Illario is used to.

Sure Illario can be an idiot sometimes but that doesn't make the way Illario is treated by his family right. I also think Rook - or that very least my Rook who has some similar issues of acting like a fool to keep people's expectations low so as to not to disappoint them when she can't live up to said expectations - starts to see through the mask of the carefree philanderer Illario wears and how much of his behavior stems from just playing into the low expectations everyone has of him. Rook, who is generally a pretty kind and empathetic person, would take it upon themselves to start calling out Caterina and Lucanis when they're being overly dismissive of Illario both as a person and an assassin because their behavior towards him can be really uncalled for a lot of the time and that just isn't right and Rook is definitely starting to get why things played out the way they did between Illario and Lucanis. Not that Rook is giving Illario a pass at all but Rook can acknowledge that Illario's actions did not come out of nowhere.

Illario who has grown up never expecting anyone to have his back is floored. Yes, Illario could trust that Lucanis would always back him up on a job but Lucanis would never really intercede on his behalf with Caterina, or at least if Lucanis ever did that was an impulse that was killed long ago probably due to Caterina's cane. So the fact that Rook who clearly isn't a fan of him is speaking up to her is mind blowing and Illario cannot make heads or tails of why Rook would do that. Not just talk back to Caterina because Rook has likely been speaking up for Lucanis' sake already which is an insane thing to do in the first place, but the fact that Rook is willing to do so for Illario just doesn't make any sense no matter how Illario looks at it because Rook just being a kind person is not a motive Illario is capable of considering. Illario spends a lot of late nights puzzling over what 5D chess game Rook is playing and what she must want to be doing all this.

Rook calling out Lucanis is also something that would stump Illario because it is clear Rook is head over heels for Lucanis so why would she potentially cause friction in her own relationship just for Illario's sake. Even stranger is that after several late night conversations behind closed doors between Rook and Lucanis, Lucanis' behavior towards Illario starts to change. It really freaks Illario out because why the fuck is Lucanis being so nice to him, is he dying??? Illario would wonder if he was possessed but he knows Lucanis is and the demon hates Illario's guts so what is going on?? It would probably take Lucanis and Illario some time to find a good equilibrium in their relationship as they start reconciling and unpacking the hurts in their past that lead to everything that happened because what Illario did was wrong and he knows that by now but it's nice to have Lucanis acknowledge just how much constantly being sidelined and considered second best hurt.

I think the real turning point in their relationship would be that the first time Lucanis stands up to Caterina is for Illario's sake. Illario had thought that if anything would get Lucanis to talk back to Caterina it would be Rook so the fact that the first person Lucanis really took an actual stand against Caterina for was Illario is inconceivable to him considering how the entirety of their lives have played out. It also brings up some lingering bitterness with no real target that Lucanis couldn't have done this before everything that happened between them and told Caterina that he didn't want to be First Talon. Things are still complicated between those boys and they always will be but they are getting better and it's pretty clear that Rook was the instigator for a lot of it.

[imsooooorrrrysorry]

Your first point is pedantic, do you really think anyone wants to see themselves as losers? Especially men, who value sex a ton, coming to terms that they can't get it? If a man calls himself an incel he most likely is "involuntarily celibate." He doesn't need to be knocking on every women's doors to prove it.

The point is an incel can barely get a positive interaction with women. Remember I was in the break room at work, I was flipping through tv channels. And one of my female coworkers started to talk to me about tv, and we had this pleasant exchange talking about tv. And it stood out to me because it was an interaction with a women that seemed pleasant and wasn't forced. Remember there was this blackpilled incel youtuber, Chewy, and he said he had this constant dream that made him happy. He said it was a dream where he was talking to this woman and he made a joke that made her smile. If that's the highlight of your day it's over.

Dating apps are the easiest way to tell whether you're an incel because they are apps meant for finding a partner. Everyone on the app is there to meet someone to date. Yet, incels can't even get a lowly right swipe. I'm not even talking about getting a date, they can't even get a consideration for the date. Think about all the women who saw an incels profile, probably in the thousands and not one gave him a consideration. Do you need to go up to 1000 women in real life to be considered an incel, in your eyes? Do online rejections not count?

I myself am not really "negative," but that doesn't matter because my "personality" isn't the issue. But do you think most hateful , negative incels express their "negative personality" publicly? Incels post often that they don't let their "based views" be known to normies.

And autistic men are still the minority in the incelsphere. So what do these autistic and neurotypical incels have in common? Subpar looks.

How can we know for sure that 80% of men have sex yearly? Again, men don't want to admit that they are sexual failures. They can be lying. If you started to go up to random men and ask them "can I see a picture of your girlfriend/ wife in your phone?" They would not pull up a picture, because they don't got one. You must have male relatives. A brother perhaps, or cousins. How often do you see them with women?

Kindness, intelligence, and humor overcoming looks is a lie. Don't trust any of those "studies." Incels have been doing tinder experiments for like 10 years now where they have a male model as the profile and their bio states that they're pedophilic violent felons and not only do they get matches, they actually get conversations from women. The women will overlook what they supposedly did. I know of tom Morgan, despite him being noticably autistic he still has many suitors on his YouTube videos, because he's good looking. Do you know of Clavicular? He's a mod on looksmax.org, went viral for his bone smashing. This guy is noticably autistic, he's clinically diagnosed too, he does a lot to looksmax. Meme stuff like mewing and bone smashing, but serious stuff too like fillers, steroids, tret, lifts, and a myriad of other drugs. He's a pretty good looking guy now, but he's also a pretty cruel and self absorbed guy. He posts about and insults the women he sleeps with, which he has proof of with pics and videos. He said he was going to bully his subhuman roommate. He takes vids of himself mogging and insulting other men to show people how superior he is. And all of this while being very visibility autistic. Why does he get women? He's good looking. There's no running from the importance of looks when it comes to men dating women.

There's a lot of to the blackpill, yes, incels got a bad hand. But their bad hand was in the looks department, not the "personality." The help they need to escape inceldom is cosmetic surgery, they need face transplants and leg lengthening . Outside of that I encourage incels to focus on whatever they find satisfying. No need to be doom and gloom always . I'm going to be 30 this year, been in the incelsphere for nearly 10 years. Thought I was different, that I wasn't an incel and was going to get a girlfriend soon. Unfortunately, I was wrong. I don't think self proclaimed incels are late bloomers, they understand their condition.

Testing a male bullshit story #1

[moon--mama]

Onyx Storm Ending Thoughts

[Cut just because I don’t want to accidentally show anyone spoilers!]

This is a big list of thoughts I have about a variety of topics in Onyx Storm. Some notes contain theories about the next books.

Who’s Crazy?

In Iron Flame, it was definitely a plot point that dragons don’t choose riders in the same family because that can cause them to go “mad.” Vi gets all worried that Xaden bonded Sgyael, until ultimately he confesses about his inntinnsic ability. In Onyx Storm, this plot device never resurfaces. Instead, all rebellion children conveniently have a second hidden signet through their relics. What a massive gift from the dragons—and that seems to suggest that some members of the Emperyon are working against one another. How did the rebellion children get their relics, and which dragons marked them? When did they develop the secondary powers through their marks? I’m sure there couldn’t be a rune powerful enough to gift them all signets too. Seems unresolved currently, and maybe like a potential plot hole?

Infodump

One big complaint I have seen about this book is the serious barrage of names within the first 100 pages. I also noticed that there was a huge amount of work put into addressing or resolving issues the first two books left uncertain. The bit where Violet asks about channeling and why infantry soldiers wouldn’t do it more often definitely feels like a cork in a plot hole. There is also much more “world building” as they travel outside of Basgaith.

Dreaming

This is definitely something that seems obvious looking back. At the same time, it would have been more obvious if it had happened to more than one character instead of only Xaden in IF. Why are the Irids so horrified about this power? Not just because it can circumvent any defenses…if you die in a dream, do you die in real life? Can she change the way people think about things, like Cat’s emotional manipulation? Do dragons dream? Can Violet create nightmares?

Sloane

When Sloane channeled from Dain to Brennan, she was surprised by Dain’s extra power. More on that in a second. After Sloane’s channeling, the venin marks on Dain’s arm and the marks on the back of Brennan’s neck were gone. I suspect Sloane might be able to purify venin energy by restoring magic…she basically undrained both of them while exchanging their energy. This also clues us in that Brennan likely has some past dealings with venin that we don’t know about yet.

Dain

Violet went through all of that trouble to steal a gemstone that could magnify powers. In the recent bonus chapter from Xaden’s POV, Dain was huffing and puffing up the stairs. What if Dain took the amplifying gem for himself to level the playing field in terms of his relatively mismatched power? They said after the fire it looked different. Could someone have done a swap?

The Emperyon

The peaceful truth of the Irids seems to have something to do with magic and balance. Throughout this book, we saw that different areas of the world have been drained of magic and are inhospitable to dragons. When Andarna brings up Threshing to her kind, they respond with language that suggests it’s actually a sort of human reaping. My theory is this—the dragons, many thousands of years ago, were being threatened because humans discovered how to drain magic from the earth. To stop this, dragons turned humans against one another and shared their powers with the first riders. For the dragons, the riders become a weapon to protect them from the venin. But magic strikes a balance—once riders had powers, the venin had to draw more and more from the earth to compete. The Irids remain feather tails, which suggests that the other breeds of dragons are endlessly transforming themselves into war machines because of their untenable hold over humanity.

Why would the dragons go along with pretending that venin aren’t real for so many centuries, without telling their riders the truth? Because they don’t want riders knowing that they could be just as powerful without their dragons. Venin seem to be the magical balance to the dragons. I wonder if the Irids view the other breeds like the humans view the venin.

Or this could go in a completely different direction and we come to find out that beyond the edge of the map the “gods” are living away from the continent. What if Dunne, Amari, Malik, and all the other gods Vi likes to name drop are actually the first “venin”?

Why, Rhi?

Was the Rhiannon POV for extra tension as we waited for a squad member to die? It happened right at the moment that Violet was confronting T. I have to go back and look again—what happened in that passage that made it so important for that exact moment? The Imogen chapter, sure. It showed that our girl has a hidden second signet and also gave a reason that she might not be making the most sound decisions after the battle. But the Rhiannon chapter showed Ridoc freezing a wyvern to death. Was that so important right at that exact moment? Dain was also fighting throughout that chapter, which seemed like a great time to explain that “extra power” he was carrying.

Marriage

We knew this had to be a breakup book. It’s the third one in the series, and the next will be the evil Xaden arc before a big resolution in the last book. The only thing Xaden held onto in his POV is that he loves Violet, but T said that venin are incapable of love. That suggests to me that Xaden is somehow not fully venin. Or, if that’s too blindly optimistic, it suggests that all venin may not be as lost as previously thought. Jack does know something apparently, so Violet will need to interrogate him to find out. Whatever Xaden has planned, it seems that Sgaeyl is in on it and he asks Tairn to agree as well. Now, unless Sgaeyl broke the bond with Xaden, there will likely be some connection between the dragons at least. The real kicker is that Imogen tells Violet she did what Violet asked her to do—and why would she want her memories erased? So that she can’t remember a painful decision? Or so that she can’t leak a secret if interrogated? Or is that a lie, and Imogen is helping Xaden escape?

My theory is that Xaden has realized he won’t be free from the Sage unless he actually kills him, or someone higher up the chain of command. He’s going to try to play spy for a while and get information on the venin, like Panchek was leaking information about the riders. He marries Violet to give her Tyrrandor, since she sees it as home and has been imagining her life there. She’s never been good at shielding her intentions from him. He also gives her the political responsibility to keep her busy while he starts on whatever he’s doing. He doesn’t need her to “rescue” him because he’s undercover, but he also needs her to be absolutely convincing if they cross paths with any venin inntinnsics. He was planning whatever this was long before this battle—originally he was going to leave Bodhi with Tyrrendor, but Violet was his obvious second choice. That would be a scenario where I could see Violet asking Imogen to wipe her memory.

Grandma

Mira went to visit Grandma, but Brennan thinks that is a bad idea. By going there, Mira was able to find out the truth about Violet’s magical hair. We found out that the other priestesses dye their hair with lye and herbs, but Violet’s is the real deal. Dedicating babies has been outlawed for hundreds of years. What happens when Violet visits grandma and finds out more about her father’s choice? Why was the grandmother so upset? It does seem like a horrible betrayal that her parents tried to “fix” her as a baby, especially as an infant. But they were extremely calculating people who knew the truth about a lot of things—perhaps Violet’s partial dedication to Dunne will give her some extra advantage or connection to the goddess in this next book. I’d imagine she will probably need to go back to the priestess who sent her the temple rock.

Aaric

A rider with true precognition…does that mean that Melgren has turned in some capacity, since there is one per generation for some of these signers? Or are there other riders out there predicting the future? It certainly seems like a troublesome turn of events for a potential future ruler to know the future. Is he seeing only one path? He could potentially identify villains or traitors, manipulate events to meet his private goals, or turn people against each other. And how can Dunne’s priestesses predict Violet’s future too?

Andarna

After being rejected by her kind, does Andarna choose to reject them in turn and rush back to Violet? Or is there another reason they don’t want an irid left on the continent? T says that Andarna was very valuable—is there another something we don’t know about her? She certainly wasn’t gone long enough for years of training unless she learns how to travel in time.

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

Perfect 10 Liners time! Ok, Yotha, you got some crow to eat, be good to our boy.

Oh, Yotha's meter is full on broken.

Which does fit with how he is with Gun, he feels a pull, but doesn't know how to really handle it. And his kisses up to this point have felt very "do behavior A to get response B" rather than any actual desire.

Obligatory beach splashing time! Pretty sure it's law by now.

Ha, of course Fai has been leaving the door unlocked on purpose. That's a good man, because if I had people snuggling in the bed next to me every night, I would be hella annoyed.

I love that we are getting to see more Fai and Wine interactions ahead of their romance!

Part of why I didn't immediately warm to Faifa was the intensity of how he came after Wine, but now I want to go back and rewatch with the recontextualization of the new scenes. It's getting sweeter by the second.

Lol, I would so be Wine here, just like "aaaah, cute older guy is talking to me, brain no longer functioning".

Oh, they are sparking so beautifully!

I love that we get Tay just randomly popping in on occasion to be the wise sage of the group.

I'm assuming his move to Nan is going to be relevant to the FaiWine story. New location for frolics?

My theory about Arm getting drunk in every episode for the entertainment of the writers is holding up.

Oh, that is so pretty.

Now I want to be at the beach.

Oh good, we're talking about the kiss.

All that and Yotha still didn't say, "I kissed him to confirm I don't feel anything anymore"? Dude, that's the most essential piece.

Hmm, this doesn't feel super romantic to me? Maybe because I've seen what waiting around for someone can be like in real life, and most of the time it sucks.

Like I get that Gun is a very sweet, loving, kind man, but I need him to be more selfish.

Yes, perfect!

Hold those boundaries baby. He doesn't get everything when he wants you to wait.

Hmm, also with the bracelet - it just feels like Yotha wants them to be boyfriends without calling it boyfriends.

Again, not mad about any of this stuff, it all fits their characters, but it just doesn't feel romantic to me.

Ha, love the friend interactions, as always.

Wow, Yotha really be walking through the halls in those pajamas, that is an impressive level of dedication.

Gah, I just - of course Gun would be sad! I feel like there's still a lack of real honest communication here.

Fai is a whole mood, I am 100% on your side bro.

Aww, Fai getting all the birthday love is cute. And deserved!

Oh for crying out loud, Yotha, you are so in love!

Seriously, all the brothers need some therapy. Please, someone just mention the word.

Lol, Gun is not fooling his mother in the least.

Yotha doesn't want to do what Wa did, but he's still setting Gun up for hurt all the same. Not being willing to call him your boyfriend or call it love doesn't change the reality, and it would hurt just as much for things to end.

Goddamit Yotha! I was giving you grace last week, but you are straight up ticking me off now.

I know we just did this plotline with ArcArm, but I need some hottie to come flirt with Gun. Boy needs to feel desired.

This is such a sweet friend group.

I love when we get to see men taking care of one another.

Oh Fai. Always sacrificing himself.

Gun deserves so much better than this.

I mean, yes, Yotha is not wrong to say he needs time, but the hot and cold is what's super hurtful. One minute he's playing boyfriends, then he can't even smile at Gun. He's so hung up on some projection of what love is supposed to be, rather than paying attention to all the ways he genuinely does love Gun.

Yotha, you are making me want this to happen for Gun.

It's not that I don't feel for Yotha, or his struggles. I think I've just seen too many real life friends being hurt by a partner who knows they have issues, but refuses to get help or work through them in order to stop causing their partner pain. And it's really shitty.

Yes, Gun! He can take his time, but you also get to set boundaries.

Waaah, stop making my AouBoom smokers.

God I love my boys.

They are very clearly "we may be side characters in this show, but we're still gonna prove why we're the number one in physical intimacy at GMMTV".

Goddamn, Aou, how much have you been working out?!

Lifting someone your own size is freaking hard!

Ok, can our BL boys just stop ever crossing the street?

They are a very pretty couple.

Hmm, this was an interesting one. I think Yotha is just bumping up against reality a little too much for me here, which is not the fault of the show.

But at least it looks like next week Yotha may finally get his shit together!