#but I was fuckin' BUSY when I was more active in the fandom

[faydingrain]

Cu-wip-osity Tag Game~!

Thank you @bvbyphoenix for tagging me!

(My main was tagged, but I'm posting this here to keep writing to the writing blog~)

Rules: reveal the titles of the documents in your WIP folder and tag as many people as there are documents. (I'll only include fandom-relevant ones for this post, and idk many people in the fandom, so if you see this: Tag! You're it!)

WIPs:

ets log: rec(Obsession.lov) Part [2]: Eden(Love) manages to recover her Obsession code successfully, as it's become her only reason for living. She continues trying to hold onto the code without it being found and removed again, while also obeying ETS's tests so she can get outside the facility and start looking for Marcus again.

Part [3] will be her excursions outside, mostly about clubs and parties she goes to between her work (which I'm making that she has to find a proper "opening" or something to the Meridian). ETS allows her to have fun so she can learn better how to blend in with people, but truthfully, she's gathering info about Marcus's wherabouts.

Untitled: A brief drabble that takes place during Inversion: Another Story about how Chelsie is glad Kody got kicked out so he wouldn't have to be in that situation.

Untitled: Kody is talking with his therapist about people can be burdened with grief even without the physical death of another.

A Clearing in the Algae: An update on Chelsie and Kody, and how things are starting to get better for them.

Imperium Willow(Darlin'): I admittedly forgot why I wanted to write this oops- Willow manages to survive this AU, and swears revenge after holding David's lifeless body in her arms.

Aftershock: Another Lament: I still want to work on this okay- But just for fun, I'll briefly list the parts I had in mind for it:

P1 - Angel: How Angel is doing after hearing about David's death. Will end with Milo and Chrys(Sweetheart) trying to reach her so she's not alone.

P2 - Alpha: Asher is having nightmares, and he and Emmanuel(Baabe) talk about Asher's becoming Alpha, and how he would rather have David back.

P3 - Sire: An update on Vincent and Gracie(Lovely). Will end vaguely in order to branch off with the person they chose to let Vincent turn.

P4 - The 69: Huxley was chosen to be reborn in Route 1. After being greeted by Vincent, Lasko (wearing an eyepatch) and Damien (in a wheelchair) enter to check on him. They discuss what happened and grieve their losses, while also including the fact that Gavin returned to Aria for an undetermined amount of time.

P5 - Detective: Milo is having nightmares about being outside the ward watching people die. Chrys tries to reassure him, and they continue into talk about the investigation. Chrys is on leave do to their motorcycle injury, but has received a promotion due to their work during the Inversion.

P6 - Healer: Willow joins Sam alone on a rooftop to reflect on the Inversion. She asks about how the kids are doing, and Sam provides updates. He also mentions that D.A.M.N. is now extremely shortstaffed, but they're having a flood of people wanting to study healing, and they've offered him a job knowing he's very skilled in that area. Willow thinks he should accept the offer, but he's not sure if teaching is what he wants to do.

P7 - The Freelancer: Cora was chosen to be reborn in Route 2. After being greeted by Vincent, Gavin and Caelum enter to check on her. They discuss what happened, including Lasko and Damien being in the hospital, and grieve their losses.

P8 - Dreamer: To end the series, we cut to Jessi(Blake's Listener) and Blake out on a date. Blake basically goes "uhuhu according to keikaku" while Jessi has no clue that her bf is a psycho.

Pending P? - Sister: This was a bonus chapter I've already sorta decided to pull, but it was going to purely revolve around my Blake's Sister OC Ava, and her feelings about this new case opening up as a result of the Invesion. This includes the police chief asking her (probably offscreen) if she'll be able to handle a case that involves her sibling, and revealing to Kieran (maybe Chrys on call) that the dreamwalker that interfered may be her brother. She reveals to them that while the two had a tense relationship growing up, and haven't spoken in years, she still loves her brother as a family member and may find it difficult to combat him.

Lovestruck: This drabble series has 3 chapters already, but here's my super secret list of other drabbles with their songs that I intended to write but haven't gotten to:

All of Me or Everytime We Touch- David/Angie

Drag Me Down - Emmy/Asher

Stereo Hearts x Zaalima - Milo/Chrys

Love Me Like You Do [Cello/Piano]  - Vincent/Gracie

*I Like It [Remix] - Amalia (OC)/Briar(Bright Eyes)

*I Like It [Remix] - Fred/Ryder (OC)

*This one was technically the next one I intended to write, and was left off in progress. It's going to be a double-drabble.

Rather Be - Avior/Stella

Birds of a Feather - Elliot/Sunny(Sunshine)

Hypnotic - Vega/Hydra(Warden)

Fever Dream or Shut Up and Dance - Blake/Jessi

Burn Break Crash or Accidentally in Love - Guy/Amy(Honey)

Can’t Help Falling in Love [Dark ver] - Ivan/Rivka(Baby)

Glad You Came - Kieran (OC)/Lasko

A Thousand Years ["Wedding" Ver] - Will/Kalila (OC) [Probably won't make]

Fever Dream - [Bonus gn listener if I feel like it] James/"Darling" (This was before he had a real listener, lmao. I don't actually know what the listener's name is though...)

Bad Things Happen Bingo (for Redacted):

Hanahaki: I've had an idea scribbled down to write this for Sam and Willow, specifically Sam since I've been enjoying the one-sided yearning on his part, ehehe~

Basically, Sam gets Hanahaki Disease, and the clan is trying to figure out what's wrong with him. William cites that it's an old and rare disease he hasn't seen in a while, and tbh, I have no idea how else it would go other than that, lol.

Locked in a Cage: Angie(Angel) right before her execution in the Imperium.

This is For Your Own Good: Avior realizes he completely fucked up handling Stella's(Starlight's) memory loss. Before their relationship shatters beyond repair, he holds her down and erases her memories to have one more shot...again.

Vague Ideas:

Vega/Warden: I just wanted to write about Hydra, and reference how she's friends with Caelum 💞

Vaelum Fluff: ...Okay soooo I kinda want to make a Vega/Caelum fic, but I don't really have any ideas for how to go about writing it, so it's just been a desire of mine silently floating through the void. I just know I want it to be soft and fluffy 💕

Kody Redemption P?: Maybe or maybe not a part where Chelsie goes to get her things back from her ex, but he tricks her into getting her alone so he can hurt her. Chelsie manages to reach Kody and in a very melodramatic fashion, Kody goes fisticuffs with her ex. He somehow gets out of it less harmed than Chelsie is, so she ends up in the hospital longer. This will be the second time she meets Damien, who will now be in a wheelchair.

Kody Redemption P?: I did want to include somewhere that he started going back to college somewhere else and met a cute and sweet girl that he likes and likes him back. It will also touch on how he slips back into his bad habits of stalking and possessiveness, but whether he stops talking to the girl or forces himself to correct his behaviours, I haven't decided yet.

Quinn Arc Shorts [My Ver]: I did intend once upon a time to fill in some of those blanks that Yours in Eternity, My Dearest had about what was going on with Quinn, but I'm not sure I have the desire to anymore honestly. I still have the spot reserved for it tho.

Vincent/Gracie&Dana(Stranger) Date OR Future Vincent/Dana: I have tossed the idea around to expand on Never Let You Go Again a little and have the three of them doing stuff together one day. I also had the idea of distant future Vincent after Gracie's passed away and how he and Dana start to hook up {Vampire/Mermaid couple anyone??] but idkkkk

[queers-gambit]

Menace

prompt: ( request that i accidentally deleted ) in essence, "drabble about Tangerine going to the bathroom and texting Reader 'come here'."

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 4.4k+

warnings: cursing, OC!Tangerine, we talk mental health (social anxiety), established relationship, busy public work settings, the request and then some, alcohol consumption, smut, bathroom sex at a work event (Cherry, what the fuck?), handguns and mild depiction of violence 'cause it's Tangerine, i give him a 'real' name (Aaron), not edited.

"This is such bullshit, sugar, c'mon, fuck are we doin' here?" Tangerine snipped in your ear, his arm curled protectively around your waist as he glared at those in rich suits and expensive colognes around him. "We don't belong 'round this lot, they're just here t'wave their money. There's no real reason for us bein' here, sweet girl, c'mon, let's just shove off. Better than chokin' on whatever this lot's wearin' - I mean, Christ Alive, smells like a bloody Bloomingdales, don't it?"

You smiled prettily in case of watchful eyes, telling him sternly in a sweet tone, "Lovie, I told you, my boss said we were needed for at least cocktail hour. We can leave before dinner, okay?"

"This is gonna last fuckin' hours, princess, c'mon, we should just go," he grumbled. "Fuck these people and these bullshit fundraisers."

"We'll be okay, I promise," you soothed sweetly, the honest opposite of Tangerine - leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. You were constantly touching one another and early in your relationship, you realized how much you loved kissing him and completely forewent lipsticks or glosses because of it. Another peck and you told him in a soft tone, "C'mon, just remember we said we'd pick up Changs on our way home and there's that bottle of nice Merlot A - I mean, Lemon gave us," you almost used your boyfriend's brother's real name, but caught yourself with plenty of time.

"Hmm," he smirked, his favorite takeout place being a happy distraction. "Cheat day sounds nice, yeah, but still don't make this go any faster, now does it?"

"No, but we're not gonna be here forever," you soothed, turning into his chest to pet the expensive material of this navy three-piece suit. "You look so handsome, my love. Really love seein' you in navy suits, and the white button up looks really clean with it." Tangerine smiled down at you, the bustle around you melting away as he could only hear, see, smell, feel, and focus on you. Then, you spoke coyly as you fixed his tie, "If you behave the rest of the night, I promise I'll make it up t'you. Yeah? Maybe wear that li'l white thing you love?" He perked up, but before he could respond, you ended, "Or maybe I already have it on - anyways, so, listen t'me, I have to go talk t'some people and do the job that pays me, so I suggest you just take a deep breath; get another drink, find Lemon, and then we'll go soon, okay?"

He looked around the usual investors his private employer had to shmooze for donated funding and frowned when he was acutely aware of not just the sheer number, but how many "important" people attended the evening's gala. The Black Market was funded by multiple someones; most of whom were in this very room and while under the radar, it still made Tangerine feel as if a huge target was painted on the building's wall. There was always a need for services outside the law and these richie-riches couldn't take the money with them to the grave, so, they donated money if it meant they were "well taken care of".

The Twins' handler insisted they attend the gala tonight; being well aware that they were more like show ponies for being on display for investors to see. Putting a face to names made myth into reality, and your boyfriend was a hot commodity due to his skill as a contract killer. He and his brother were legends around the various active agencies, investors happy to see their money going to good use; all wanting to know what they had bought for a price-tag of several billion.

The common conversation of the evening was how readily available The Organization was able to offer their services with no questions asked, no matter what. Tan hated these events, feeling nauseated, overstimulated, overwhelmed; overall, exploited by his employer as attendees gossiped about the Bolivia Job, the Kyoto Crash, the Libyan Disaster, and a few other memorable jobs Tan and Lemon were involved in. Their beady little eyes followed him around, mouths hidden behind crystal flutes of champagne, and bodies always shied away from him as if he were a wild beast.

Sure, they pay to sit and gather in the arena, but flee when the raging bull they've helped antagonize gets loose.

Then you came along and took on the brunt end of these social events. Tan was never quite sure how you got involved in this life, you always giving a new answer, but knew you had gone to university for multiple degrees - one being in something called "communications". Now, if you had asked Tan a few years ago, he'd've said that was a bullshit job, bullshit degree, a total waste of time. Now that his popularity had grown and he was exposed to more social obligations, he was was beyond grateful to have someone navigate this with him. Tangerine's bad attitude most of the time was just a deflection, being why you and Lemon could handle him; knowing the lad's anxiety often choked him past logic and made him a sarcastic, violent cunt.

When Tangerine forced himself back to reality after glaring at the other warm bodies mingling around, Tangerine's arm contracted tight enough that he could bring you in for a quick kiss. Quietly, he muttered in your ear, "I'll give you half an hour, darling, no more."

"No less," your eyes rolled but your lips were spread in a grin. He chuckled and softened his expression; whoever might've been watching feeling something akin to shock and awe (like one felt when they saw a lion in person for the first time), knowing Tangerine was a horribly stoic, violent, and short-tempered man. To see him now, amused and soft with such a beauty of a woman - well, it was jarring. He was still known to be an asshole, but it seemed you had a stronger leash on Tangerine than his handler ever did. But perhaps, no stronger than Lemon.

"Right," Tan sighed. "What was first on your list fa' me t'do?"

"You're gonna take a deep breath, get another drink, and then find Lemon," you repeated softly, "but I'm gonna say you owe me a kiss before that drink."

Tan huffed.

"That wasn't a deep breath, Tan, c'mon, we've been over this," you mock glared, feeling both his hands secure to your hips. He pet the expensive silk you wore with his thumbs, the pocket square resting over his heart a tailored square of the same material.

"Sweetheart - "

"In through your nose, out through your mouth, Tan," you cut him off. "Together, I'll do it with you, c'mon. In..."

Tangerine adjusted his stance in those shining Italian leather shoes you gifted him for Christmas that year. He took a steady breath in through his nose when you did, watching for your subtle nod, then exhaling slowly through his mouth - when you did. Again, together, in through the nose, your nod after about seven seconds, then exhaled through the mouth. After one more, you smiled at him in encouragement, both hands splayed on his lapels; his own moving so they coiled around you.

"All right," he grumbled, "yeah, it helps, pretty girl."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Feel better?"

"Don't push it, plum," he mumbled, bringing you in closer so he could kiss the hinge of your jaw, just below your ear while stroking your spine with his fingertips. "Thank you," he whispered, mustache tickling your skin, "always know how t'get me out me head, don't'cha?"

"I try, but you don't always make it easy, you know?" You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth to smother your grin, leaning into his chest. "Kiss me, please, then go get a drink and find Lemon. Don't talk to the investors," you warned, adding, "please."

This made a mischievous smirk spread across his lips, "Awe, hey, c'mon, aren't they here t'see me? I can say hello. You won't even 'ave'ta introduce me, they'll know me."

"Okay, yes, they're here t'see the lot of yah, but they're not here to get yelled at, yeah? Or called cunts? Insulted in any manner?" You sang in a light tone; caressing his cheek to guide him to your lips for a long desired kiss. The hand on his cheek curled around to grip the back of his neck, gently tugging the neat strands of hair as you tried to convey your pride.

Social anxiety was a bitch and though he'd deny it vehemently, Tan was riddled with it. Seeing him endure this evening (despite the constant complaining) was a mighty feat, wanting your kiss to spark something in his gut that would cause his confidence to soar so it'd put a bit of "pep in his step" to get through the rest of the evening.

And boy, did it.

After parting ways, Tangerine was left to get his drink with a full-chub that made him shake both legs out in an attempt to hide his arousal. Yet as he watched you melt seamlessly into the crowd, he couldn't get the picture out of his mind that maybe you were wearing that white thing he liked. Tan leaned on the bar top, cock stirring to life with each passing second; watching you mingle and mix and shmooze investors and wanting nothing more than to interrupt and get you alone. With his drink, he located Lemon, trying to forget the way his cock was begging for attention while you worked your magic on these walking-talking-money-bags.

"All right, bruv?" Lemon asked, the two standing with a few other agents that were wrangled in for the event.

"Hmm?"

Lemon glared, then snickered to himself. "Oh, fuck me, mate, you're fucked, aren't you?"

"Come off it," Tan took another slug from the expensive whiskey glass. "'S only me second."

Lemon blinked in shock, "That's not possible. You hate these fancy things, you don't like bein' sober at'em."

"I've been distracted."

"No shit, 'cause your lady's here, gotta be on your best behavior, don't yah?" Lemon snickered, sighing as he shook his head and accepted the champagne being passed around by a waiter with a full tray. "But enough that you ain't been drinkin'? Yeah, right - oh, shit, wait," he beamed, "didn't Y/N get that administrative promotion? It's that, ain't it? Ho-ho!" He laughed, "Yeah? Don't tell me you've been her arm candy all night, mate?"

"We've been tucked away, actually," Tan admitted, missing the way Lemon blinked in shock 'cause he was searching for you in the deepening crowd. "She knows I don't like these things, right, so, we stood away from 'em all, ova there," he pointed off to where Lemon knew was roped off for VIPs. "We were just talkin', laughin'. She makes these shitty li'l jokes, you know? Kept us more entertained than the rest of these fucks," Tangerine chuckled, hand hiding his grin of amusement as he wiped around his mouth to play it off.

This made Lemon nod with impression, "Yeah?"

"Yeah, but," Tan sniffled, "duty calls, she's gotta work a bit, get some donations goin'. Apparently, I'm not allowed t'talk t'the fancy donors."

Lemon checked his watch, "Fair enough, you did punch that Sultan - "

"Oh, come the fuck off it, that was three years ago! He was fine."

"You broke his nose, mate. You want another?"

Tangerine skulled the last of his drink, shaking his head. "Nah, I'm good, mate. Might be time t'go soon."

"I'll leave when you two do, wouldn't wanna be stuck here alone," Lemon agreed, the two turning away to stand at a cocktail table together and away from the others. "This is why we don't work inna office, this lot - Jesus, fuck. Oh, shit, oi, mate, you seen who all's here tonight? Fuck's sake..."

"Yeah, mate, I've seen 'em all, but there's too many t'know who the fuck you mean specifically." He pulled his phone out as Lemon rumbled on in excited impression about the evening's guests to send you a quick text,

wrap it up, pretty girl. i got things i wanna do to you that ain't for others to see unless they pay.

He could see you from where he and Lemon stood; and when your phone chimed, you checked it almost instantly, smiling at the message. He waited for your rapid reply,

if my panties had a crotch, they'd be soaked. love you in blue 💙

That was enough for Tangerine, who nodded at his brother, "Gimme a minute, yeah? Gonna pop off t'the loo before we go. Have another," he pointed to the drink in Lemon's hand as he backed away, "but not that frilly shit, mate, have a real fuckin' drink. Oi!" He snapped his fingers at a passing waitress, "Sorry, sweetheart, yeah, my bruva, there," he pointed at Lemon, who waved awkwardly, "will take a double whiskey, on the rocks, yeah, and he likes them lemon twists. That somethin' you can grab for him, love?"

"Absolutely," she nodded, high-strung ponytail swishing.

Tangerine snickered lightly, shelling out a hefty tip that she accepted, "And bring him a Lemon Drop shot, too, please."

"Anything else, sir?"

"Ah, if you'd like, maybe your number for him, too?" Tan instigated, hearing Lemon groan and grumble in embarrassment. "My bruva, there, he's bloody golden, yeah? Can't do no better, man just has no flaws - less we count tha' he's a wee bit shy, innit? Pretty ladies intimidate him a bit, but he's the bravest man I fuckin' know. Just gotta warm 'im up a bit, don't'cha know?"

"He sounds like a real gentleman. But maybe I can give mine if you give your number to my friend?" The waitress countered, pointing towards the central bar that the servers operated out of. There was a decently pretty girl with dark hair, twiddling her fingers at them with a pearly grin. "She's sweet, kind, absolutely wild in bed - "

"Sounds like an even deal, sweets, but you see - I've got a woman, yeah? And my lady? Well, she's kinda one of your bosses tonight, so, uh, might not be a good idea now, would it? She gets all territorial, protective, likes what's hers t'be just hers - ain't real big on sharin'." The waitress flushed in embarrassment. "But my bruva, here," Tan pointed back at Lemon while unlocking his phone, "he's a fuckin' don, yeah? Ain't nobody gonna treat cha' t'a better night. Oi, hey, I'll be back, bruv," he called to Lem with a smirk, then reminded the waitress, "double whiskey, lemon twist, on the rocks. And that Lemon Drop, please."

"Of course, sir, right on it," she agreed, Tangerine finally backing away fully. He typed you a new message,

meet me in the bathroom right now

Inside, it was decently spacious; unisex, six stalls, made of pristine marble, veiled fluorescent lighting, and there was a lock on the door - which Tan cared most about.

He planted himself behind the two other men at the walled-off urinals, hands clasping together in front of him. "Right, then, you two," he gestured between them, "got 'bout 30 seconds to finish yourselves and get the fuck outta here." He pulled the usual gun from his waistband, threatening, "Or I'll give you fuckin' fucks a show 'bout all them stories you love whisperin' 'bout. Yeah? How's that? Hey? Thirty! Twenty-nine! Twenty-eight!"

They were barely zipped up and gone by the time Tangerine got to second 21; you entering right as the two were scurrying for the swinging-open door. You yelped a little, jumping out of their way, offering Tangerine a strange look and musing, "Uh, what was that? You fightin' in the privy, again?"

He put his handgun away as he stalked towards you, "Just makin' sure we wouldn't be interrupted."

"Tan, hell no, there's so many people!"

He yanked you from the doorway, making sure it was shut before locking it loudly. "Then we gotta be quick, don't we? C'mon, doll, real fast, bosses won't even question you bein' gone."

"I still have work - "

"Nah, nah," he pawed your gown's skirts upward, "you been teasin' me all fuckin' night, lookin' too fuckin' good - I can't wait, baby. Just look so Goddamn pretty, feels like I'm losin' my mind. Lemme see yah," he got the silk bunched around your waist, gasping loudly when he saw your panties. "You really did wear 'em... Like the good girl you are," he purred, one hand dropping the silk to run his hand over the strappy and lacy material you wore. "Swear I'll take my time with yah at home, the way I want - but can't do that here, just needa be inside yah, sugar, c'mere."

"Baby," you gasped when his fingertips ghosted around your cunt that was bare due to the crotchless cutout. "I only need a-a-a," you trailed off, panting when one finger suddenly plunged into your cunt, "ohhh, shiiiit. Yes, baby, oh, God!"

"Keep talkin'," He smirked, backing you up towards the marble counter. "C'mon, tell me off. Tell me what's more important right now, huh? More important than this? Is it work? Huh? Work got you distracted? Wanna get back t'it instead of bein' here with me?" The heels of your palms slammed into the pristine counter, whimpering when he pumped erratically. "Aht, here you go," he smirked, pausing to pull his hand free of your warmth; seizing your waist and helping hoist you back onto the sink's ledge. Your lips meshed sloppily with his, Tan letting you dominate the kiss because you were mewling - so desperate for him, you were nearly suckling on him; hands trembling as they held his cheeks with your manicured fingertips. When your legs instantly spread to accommodate Tangerine's hulking form, grinding your hips into him, he seethed, "Good girl," before sinking his digit back into your wet heat that halted your ministrations out of pure relieving pleasure.

"You're a menace," you panted against his mouth when you remembered reality, Tangerine's belt rattling open and his zipper teeth shrieking when you shucked them open. "Gimme," you whispered, reaching for him; dropping his pants the rest of the way to take his pulsing cock in hand. "This what you wanted? Right? Why you texted me? Interrupted me?"

"Exactly," he licked his lips before smashing them to yours in a suffocating kiss, always the one to help you push boundaries and do things you never thought you'd ever do if not for him. "Why're you so wet? Huh? Why's that? Had this on your mind, too, didn't'cha, dirty girl? Why else would you wear my favorite?"

"'T reward you for tonight," you panted, giving his cock a few pumps. "'S my scene, not yours, just so fucking proud of yah - for how you did, gettin' through it," you guided him to your weeping entrance after pushing his hand from you, both gasping when his cockhead notched on the lip of your cunt. "Yes, yes, yes, yes," you chanted, praising him as he sunk his hips into your own; effectively blurring your mind.

He grunted, needing a single moment to press his balls between you two as he waited for you to accommodate to his size. Forehead to forehead, your eyes remained shut; breathing the same air, feeling your insides fluttering at the size of him. His mouth was at your ear, demanding, "Tell me again, pretty girl."

You knew what he wanted, letting your legs spread a little wider and held onto his shoulders since this position didn't allow for much else. You whimpered, "You did so good tonight, baby. Oh, fuck, I'm so proud of you - you did so fuckin' good." He groaned and retracted his hips, beginning a brutal pace and messy rhythm to pump himself in deep strokes. You had to hold onto his upper arms now to allow him space to move. "Always so good for me, but tonight? Fuck - you're so good, Aaron. So fucking good - and tonight you were fucking amazing. I'm so proud, so fucking proud of you," you whimpered, his hands holding your hips so the counter could pose as leverage to allow him the angle to pound up into you while shifting you down on him.

"Almost there, baby," he begged, eyes all over. He loved the sight of your 'panties' still on; the criss-crossing of the straps and pattern of the lace still in place while his cock made a mess of you. Your gown glittered in this light, your skin tacky with a thin layer of sweat from your arousal that made him dip low and lick a bold stripe between your breasts. "Lemme see - lemme get a taste, doll, want you in my mouth," he muttered against your cleavage, still holding you on his cock as you pulled a tit free. You gave a shrill yelp when Tangerine surged forward suddenly and bit harshly on your budding, sensitive nipple; but it was in-sync with him changing the pace of his thrusting to something borderline painful.

It wasn't a secret he was well-endowed, there wasn't much to the imagination with the way his suits are tailored.

But having ten(plus) inches; fully swollen, engorged, jackhammering into you at this angle? It wasn't the most pleasurable at first, but with Tan licking, nipping, and sucking at both nipples now, you endured until moaning authentically. You were all but hanging off the counter by now, Tan the only reason you weren't on the floor; using upper body strength to hold onto him while slithering a hand toy your stomach to toy with your enlarged clit.

It took very little time of harsh pressure from your fingers to come undone, pleasure mounting to a crescendo before shattering your grip to reality. With a gasp, your hips humped into Tan's by your own blinding vocation; arms tight around his shoulders to remain upright as you milked yourself.

The contraction of your cunt was all Tangerine needed, and four slaps of his balls later had him doubling over and pinning you in a small slam, chest-to-chest, to the marble.

"Oh, my fuckin' God," you panted in appreciation.

"Shit," he realized, "shit, fuck, did I hurt you? Fuck - baby - "

"I'm not hurt," you panted, keeping a tight hold to refuse him from standing up, "just happy."

He deflated with a small chuckle. In your neck, he mumbled, "I can't feel my legs."

"Wanna sit?"

"Nah, not here," he mused, licking the sweaty skin of your pulse point. "Just had t'wear the li'l white ones, didn't'cha?"

"You get all worked up when I do."

"With good reason, should see yourself the way that I do - Goddamn, doll. My girl's divine, too good for these fuckers out here."

You were about to retort, but there was a loud, rapid banging at the locked door. "Hey! Hey! Whoever's in there! There's people that need in, you fucking arseholes! Get your dick wet at your own place, you broke bitches!"

You gasped and slapped a hand over your mouth as Tangerine finally stood off you, keeping you balanced on the counter as you sat up. "Oh, my fucking God, Tan! I-I-I-I'm gonna get fired! Oh, holy shit! This isn't happening!"

"No - "

"Aaron, we were literally just caught - "

"Hey, hey, just breathe," he paused, sighing as he caressed your cheek. "Let me handle this for us, okay? The way you protect me, let me protect you. Yeah?"

You nodded mutely, looking ready to burst into tears. After Tan pulled out and helped you clean up (ignoring the warm cum that dripped down your inner thighs), he simply wrapped you in his navy suit jacket, rolled up his crisp white sleeves, and pulled out his handgun. "Oh, baby, don't - "

"Trust me," he purred, arm secure around your waist. "Oh... Shit, hang on," he set the gun down to use his hands and fix your hair, your heart soaring by the sweet, domestic gesture. "I got'cha, pretty girl, one sec - there we go, yeah," he smirked, looking proud of himself. "Yeah, all right, there we go," he cupped your cheeks, "all perfect."

"Thank you," you whispered.

"Now, we're gonna walk out with confidence. Just don't stop, don't look at anyone. Actually, look a li'l smug," he instructed. "And we're just gonna grab Lemon and get outta here, yeah?"

You pouted lightly, "After I get the O-K from my boss."

"Nah, we don't ask permission, just forgiveness."

"Terrible philosophy."

"I prefer effective. Ready?" He asked, picking his gun up again. You nodded, latching onto him as his arm secured around you again, then approached the door. He unlocked it loudly and yanked it open, glare instantly taking over his expression as you were met with a gaggle of angry, grumbling patrons. "We got a fuckin' problem?" Tangerine sneered, his gun winking in the dim lighting; those who were waiting instantly backing off.

You did as he advised: didn't look at anyone, didn't stop, looked a little smug. He lead you through the throng of people, hearing a woman sneer under her breath - gasping when Tan turned his gun on her. "Tangerine!" You snapped, the people around you all freezing.

"Got somethin' t'say?" He taunted the woman, who shook her head. "No? You sure? Now?" He asked, shifting the weapon over to her date's forehead. She shook her head again. This made Tan smirk, "Jealousy ain't pretty on anyone, love. Keep your fuckin' mouth shut."

"Let's go, now," you insisted, tugging on his unbuttoned waistcoat to walk away together. "Can't shoot everyone who offers insult."

"No, but word will spread," he smirked. "Ain't nobody gonna say a fuckin' word to yah now. And if they do," he shrugged, "you'll tell me. All right, now, uh," he paused you both, nodding ahead, "that's a bit of my doin'. Question is, do we interrupt?"

You peered around a person or two until Lemon and a pretty waitress was in sight. She was giggling and grinning, the two deep in conversation; just enraptured and toying with each other's hands.

"We should probably let him know we're leaving. Maybe text him?"

"So, we are leaving, huh?" Tan smirked. "No more precious work to go run off to?"

Your lips moved beside his ear, licking the shell before speaking so your cool breath fanned over the wet skin, "I can't work with your cum leakin'."

His hand groped your arse cheek tightly, "If you do, I promise t'make yah my li'l Twinkie, huh? Fuck you all night, like you deserve."

"Oh, now you wanna stay? You fuckin' serious?"

"Yeah, but, now it's a game."

"You're a fucking menace!"

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

[shesnake]

I wanted to know your thoughts on this but do you think it's fair to say either Louis or Armand are abusive in their relationship? Idek if this is a valid angle to view the characters from because I guess they're all monsters or whatever but a part of me thinks that it's kinda lukewarm to refuse to engage with the complicated themes of the show, which abuse is featured heavily and pretty clearly imo. This isn't aimed at you btw. Something I noticed is people tend to use some of Louis's less favorable moments to justify the violence he experiences. Like that post about Armand just matching Louis energy in ep 5, most of the notes are taking the stance that Louis is a cold, unempathic pimp who doesn't care about sa victims, that Armand genuinely is completely right when he says he is always cleaning up after Louis that he was only worried and tenderhearted and Louis escalated in the worst way and that after Louis said that he deserved everything that happened after. And I may be biased but to me that is so fucking crazy. To me it seems like fans, specially nonblack fans, have zero empathy for black abuse victims, actively enacting abuse culture even. But idk if that is a too reactive view. I don't want to say Louis isn't flawed because he is. But I mean we are watching the season about Armand getting Claudia killed on purpose and somehow people are still like Maybe Armand didn't do it, maybe it was all Louis, maybe Louis really asked for it. All of it. I think there's a problem there but idk I kinda feel a little crazy too. Btw disclaimer I fuckin hate Lestat this is not about comparing Loumand/Loustat lol

hi! and wow there is so much to discuss here...

I think it is fair to describe the actions of both Louis and Armand towards each other as abusive by definition but it's always important to remember that it is Armand in the position of greater power over him. Armand is older, stronger, owns dominion. He can walk in the sun, manipulate memories, and live without constant debilitating hunger for blood - all of which are things that impede Louis from being his own person outside of Armand.

Louis also faced this same predicament when he was with Lestat, but unlike Armand who uses his own innate powers against Louis, Lestat mostly used his social advantages of whiteness, wealth etc in addition to withholding key knowledge about vampirism to keep himself in control and Louis dependent on him.

and sure Louis can lash out all he wants! He can mock Armand's sexual trauma (trauma which Armand himself already gets them both to fetishise... but that's a whole different conversation...) he can hit back when Lestat hits him but when he's with either of those guys he is always going to be the victim. Nothing shitty he does to his partners, or to Claudia, or to Daniel, justifies what is being done to him by these men.

There absolutely has to be anti-blackness involved in any argument that says Louis deserves any of this. (Of course Armand as a brown South Asian man is not immune from fandom racism but his treatment is racialised in a different way that is also a different conversation). Any negative behaviour from a Black man is going to be seen by racists as exponentially more aggressive than it is, especially the cross-section with those you mentioned who aren't engaging with the complicated themes of this show exploring abuse.

They can see that Louis yelling at Armand is bad, but don't notice that Armand is being manipulative. They can see that Louis stabbing Lestat that one time during sex is bad (and still sexualise it), but don't notice that Louis is disassociating in every sex scene he has with Lestat afterwards (because they're too busy sexualising it). They can see that Louis making Daniel upset is bad, but don't notice that Daniel has been leveling dozens of racist and homophobic micro-aggressions at him since episode 1.

Armand got a few minutes to tell his tragic backstory in Louvre, Lestat had 2 or 3 different scenes in season 1 to recall his own. It's just been words. Meanwhile racists erase Louis' experiences with trauma because they never had enough fucking empathy for him to begin with to even register it happening to him! on screen! in real time! right in front of us!

And yeah Louis and Armand and Loumand are incredibly complex and compelling, and I do enjoy seeing Louis' moments of cruelty towards Armand! But he's never going to win against him in the game Armand built for him.

And in terms of Claudia, I do think that Louis failed her, as he has always failed her. And is responsible for her death in that regard. But that failure involved letting those other two fucking sharks eat her!!! I personally haven't seen anyone pushing the blame completely off Armand and onto Louis but I wouldn't be surprised. This week I've more pissed off about people levelling it all on Armand and think of Lestat as an unwilling participant.... this is of course the blonde white vampire show....

anyways sorry this is so long! thanks for the message this was really interesting to think about.

[monstersinthecosmos]

THANK YOU for your "kink in TVC" Ted talk because while I'm finally working my way through the series for the first time, I spent most of my tween years scouring the internet for TVA excerpts because Armand is my special boy. And I was SO BUMMED to see people saying that TVA is a bad read and that it comes off really rapey. And when I read the whipping scene I was just like. That's not what's happening here! This is a pretty tame bdsm scene all things considered! Like it's so cathartic to be able to go 'im Not Crazy, these people are just from a different planet' lol

gjdlgasd i am so happy to hear this, you don't even know!!! IF I CAN MAKE EVEN ONE PERSON FEEL HAPPIER AND SAFER I AM SO HAPPY LOL.

(post in question in case you missed it lol)

I will never tell someone not to be uncomfortable or grossed out by the sex content in TVA because it's SUCH a personal topic, but I also think this is an exercise that young fans have to practice in that "my discomfort is not a moral" and "my personal experience is not everyone else's experience" and "shipping isn't activism" and I think fandom would be a lot more safe and fun if everyone could respect each other's reads/lenses/lived experiences/etc. As easy as it is for us to say "this topic can be very triggering and it is very personal to some people" I think we need to also say "some people find comfort in it and it's also very personal" and even "some people feel neutral towards it because it's fiction and their comfort or disgust is not a moral spectrum for you to judge"

There's also, of course, at the end of the day, "I find this disgusting and triggering AND I LIKE IT" and all of these feelings are allowed because fiction makes up fake spaces to explore our feelings safely where no one is getting hurt and no one is morally incorrect for enjoying the book. I always feel the need to mention this option too because like who the fuck cares haha, I'm not interested in defending TVA and making excuses why it's okay to like it--you're allowed to like it ! Period! Even if you read it as noncon! Some people like reading noncon! They're allowed!

Basically mind ur own fuckin business lmao god damn guys.

And yknow as much as I urge younger/more conservative fans to behave themselves, I also urge those of us who are not bothered to ignore them to the best of our ability. I think these folks need space to grow, and if they grow that's great!, and if they decide they'd like to remain conservative that's fine too, I'm not particularly interested in interacting with that type of rhetoric anyway so I'll stay in my lane.

Anyway I think a lot of the fandom worried that an influx of fans would bring some of this attitude into the conversation because it's a trend with younger fandom folks and newer fandoms and it really sucks that this happened! But I think there's a still a very passionate group of people who aren't judgmental cunts lol and it's still possible to find your people and vibe!!!!

[shukakumoodboard]

8 and 25 for the ask thing? 👀 I wanna know your Thots and Opinions

Thots and Opinonions for yuo my darlignie. i had a Day so i’m choosing violence on these responses too lets fuckin’ go

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

this is maybe more an activity derived from an opinion/mindset but i was thinking about it today: collecting fandom artwork off the internet and making twitter threads or tiktoks or youtube shorts or otherwise content out of it without credit or permission isn’t contributing to fandom in general or being a fandom content creator, it’s actually stealing :) there seems to be a shocking amount of people who think this kind of reposting is normal/acceptable and let me just say i have a blanket permissions statement on my ao3 but if i ever catch someone putting my stuff in a tiktok compilation without crediting me and letting me know as per the terms of my permissions i am coming to their house and dropping a fat turd in their microwave

now obviously if you have permission/the creator has given blanket permissions, and you link your sources, go absolutely hog fuckign’ wild!

25. common fandom complaint that you’re sick of hearing

ok this one ends up being more general fandom too, but any and all variants and extensions thereof belonging to the overarching complaint of “there just isn’t enough X art/fic!” shut the fuck up and write it/draw it yourself. “but i can’t write/draw” and you think your idol authors/artists just… could? it’s called practice babeygrill. pick up a pencil. youtube has some great free drawing tutorials. drop your fave authors a line and ask them what writing advice they can provide. “but im too busy” i write on my phone in the fckin’ shower while my conditioner sets. and in between teaching courses at university, and while my dinner’s cooking, and between sets at the gym, and on the train to work, and hobby time on the weekends. “but i’m too lazy” then Cope. thank u for coming to my ted talk*

*i do feel the need to disclaimer all of these are different from health, job, family, etc issues that do interfere with writing or drawing and to that i say: my love you are still an artist. a boat is still a boat even when docked at the shore

thank you for asking <3

feel the violence in ur bones

[lultimagoccia]

RP BLOG CONTENT GUIDELINES. bold all that apply to you and your blog. italics if you’re on the fence about something.

MY BLOG IS: open to all - semi-selective - selective - moderately selective - highly selective - exclusive - only going to rp with mutuals - mostly going to rp with mutuals - indie - affiliated with a group - spoiler free - spoilers tagged - spoilers mostly tagged - not spoiler free

I WILL RP WITH: any fandom - most fandoms - only fandoms I know - only people in my fandom - ocs - ocs with no fandom ties - ocs who are related to/know my character in their backstory ( we MUST plot this first, due to past experiences of people assuming what kind of relationship our muses would have ) - only one version of any particular character ( because multiple dimensions / dimension hopping is canon to pepp's story, he has versions of characters that are from his home dimension ) - people who have the same muse as me - people who do not have a rules page - multimuse blogs - people in rp groups - indie rpers

I WILL SHIP WITH: no one - anyone - chemistry - select ship - ocs - others of my own muse - crossovers with characters from different fandoms - only one version of a particular character - one person in my main certain verses - multiship - one main / canon ship within my main verse ( in pepp's overarching blog plotline / his primary 'verse he is with creech. most interactions will be presumed to take place in this setting, unless specified otherwise ) - self-inserts

MY BLOG WILL CONTAIN: fluff - angst - gore ( within certain limits i ain't a big gore person tbh ) - violence - smut ( confined to an 18+ sideblog, adult muns / muses ONLY ) - blood - torture - shipping - death - dark humor - assault ( as in violence )

I WILL FOLLOW: everyone - only some people - most people - only people in my fandom - every rp blog - people i actively wish to rp with - people who do not post a lot of ooc - people whose posts i am comfortable with on my dashboard

TO RP WITH ME, YOU SHOULD: follow back - answer an open - message me ooc - message me ic - make a starter - answer my starter - send in a meme - like a starter call

OTHER: i practice reblog karma with memes - i expect reblog karma with memes - i expect my rules/about to be read - i always read the rules/about before following/interacting - if you follow me, i would like nsfw tagged - i expect all smut to be beneath a read-more ( AND have a mature rating ) - i am a multiverse blog - i am multi-muse ( sort of, muse + pizzano are their own characters ) - i do not wish for my ooc posts to be reblogged - i do not wish for my threads to be reblogged by those not involved - i expect post length to be matched - i expect icons/gifs to be used in a reply if i have used them - i don’t expect post length to be matched, but I will try to match yours - i am patient when waiting for replies and expect the same courtesy ( pls i am so fuckin' busy irl and i am very mentally ill i am doing my best here )

[strider-rambles]

holy shit the first motherfucking ramble is an emo one this shit crayz

anyway. uhm. man. as a kin(?) <- dubious but thats how ill be referring to myself for now ive always like. had such a tough time finding not only canonmates, but just.. sourcemates. in general. that i vibe with. i think perhaps my vibes are occasionally mad atrocious, but it's also like. OTHER PEOPLE are half of the issue too you know

takes two to motherfuckin tango, and bro, i'm stepping on these bitches' feet like it's dance dance revolution and like as a dave kin specifically. one who like. was quite young when i got into the fandom however many years ago and, even if i didn't know the term kin back then, i kinda.. knew. or, maybe the fuckin chicken (me) came before the egg (the kin) or whatever but

whatever. it resulted in me being.. kind of in a kinshift for like 4 years during the most formative years of my life

cray-z right

doesn;t matter its just like. because it's been such a present thing through my life ive met.. so many individuals who are like. you know. other kins which is great and all, but like

i haven't found people that i've vibed with for homestuck. the majority of the people i know and interact with now are comfortably in my little kin circle or whatever, are sort of the closest thing that i have to canonmates

nothing for homestuck. well nothing beyond a dirk. but i got lucky with him and i KNOW i got lucky with him because i. we're both kind of outcasts in the community, in the sense that we're. neurotic striders, i guess.

but he's like. helped a lot with the whole feeling alone and being all emotionally constipated about it thing.

but that doesn't help with the other shit

the missing my friends shit, the approaching so many fucking people bein' all like yooo whats GOOD bros and being hit with vibes that clash with mine or WORSE. vibes that WORK WITH ME. but they already have their dave

so whats the point you know?

i'm not going to be THEIR DAVE.

i have so many diverging fucking timelines and like

im dave. im davesprite. im every goddamn iteration of this stupid fucking asshole and MORE.

and

i hate the idea of being the secondary one, i guess. which is funny because. gestures. but like

it's gotten to the point where im so DESPERATE to find people. so DESPERATE to find my bros and my homies and my gals that i like i promised myself i wouldn't do this but i'm actively going "hey i can be your secondary dave, haha" you know. all fucking pathetic and shit

but i just.

i MISS my friends. so bad. and i think part of my struggle is like this is an OLDASS FANDOM. at least in terms of the internet, and so its harder to find people who have those roles unfilled, because like it's already.. you know.

and so like.

i'm stuck here. rambling into the fucking VOID on tumblr because i'm too. fucking. i dont know late??

funny to be late as a time player but womp womp motherfucker, pull yourself up by your bootstraps and start damage control

but like

in all seriousness. i'm losing mad hope

ive gone from being like hey, yall need a dave? to hey, yall need a davesprite? to. radio motherfuckin silence.

and as a result i kinda yap at dirk too much, which totally makes me tweak the fuck out, like, dude. he has a life (albeit a totally like. chill one, that aint all that busy) and he doesnt have the time to like tend to you like youre a child with scarlet fever, and every last word that your whiny little vocal cords can muster could be like... you know. your last. like his ass is NOT writing your obituary

and so like i pull away kinda. and like. because of that pulling away i suddenly have this like. yapping desire that needs to be fulfilled but like i like having peer review. like it keeps it from being a massive fucking echo chamber of just misery and bullshit and like.

yeah

and so i.

i don't know, man. i made this blog for a reason.

i don't know if i thought it would help, or if it would like. help me connect to people, or what

what am i even doin here dawg

like theres just this existential feeling of DREAD here. doomed timeline type shit lmfaoooo i don't know though i

it could bring something good

or this could be something terrible for me

or it could be like journaling. which i used to do in physical books, because i liked doodling back then, but, ive lost that hobby, so like

this exists

but i only journaled when i didn't have friends

i have friends

i think

i just understand that those friends don't want to listen to me. frankly i wouldn't either, i mean like. read this shit again. would you really wanna sit down with your bro and hear this type of shit i don't know. this kinda turned into. something horrible haha

i'm better mentally than i was 4 years ago but whats the point when i be bitchin and moanin and whinin like this still

point is:

i miss my friends. i miss yapping (at) with them. i miss having friends in the first place. i miss feeling like i'm home, kin wise. the irony of the matter is im LOCKED OUT OF THE HOUSE. instead of uhh (checks notes) HOMESTUCK.

haha. im so funny. haha. yeah. uh. ramble over for now. i might pick this shit back up.

[psudopod]

Yeah it's fine. It's fine to consume media. It's not rare. It doesn't need a special post to explain to people they can watch TV or read a book. Many people have no hobbies. That's fine. But fine isn't great. "Do you have a hobby outside of consuming media?" is not a post about how to be just fine and common.

If you find yourself making a million and one exceptions to a general post maybe that post isn't for you? This is the "people should go for walks sometimes" post all over again. "I can't because my body can't!" Ok! Post isn't for you. "I can't because I live in a car-centric hell scape" Ok- Post is actually very for you. Structural problems are indeed not individual problems congrats on understanding what I said but that doesn't mean people suffering under structural problems should have their suffering normalized, like it's normal to not even have the choice to walk or have a self-expressive hobby. When my homies can't even play video games after work I'm not like "hey it's ok and fine to not have a choice over what you do with all your energy!" I'm pissed. They're pissed. I see a post about people not being able to pick their hobbies since they are busy recovering from work and I'm fuckin pissed at the system.

(I also think you're projecting a much not restrictive definition of a hobby that isn't just consuming media than I had in mind. Imo hobbies can include media consumption activities. After all that trying to define what is a hobby and what is consuming media in your first post, a lot of that is a hobby IMO. When I say "consuming whatever media is in front of you" that was specifically to exclude the media consumption creativity that I see as a hobby-that-isn't-just-consuming-media.

My neighbor, who's main pastime is on the surface "listening to music," but who's actual hobby is making a room with a huge sound system and a specifically placed chair to have the perfect acoustics to listen to a very specific range of singers. Or people who curate watch lists, or curate a media collection, write reviews, or contribute to fandom discussions. I meant that not as an insult to media consumers but as a way to specify the activity. An activity more akin to leaving the TV or radio on a channel. The point where it becomes hard to call it a hobby. A pastime? An activity? Decompressing? (I think you've got people in the notes saying writing fanfics isn't a hobby? Wack.))

"Name a hobby outside of MEDIA CONSUMPTION" is the worst kind of post. It's squarely in that ever-growing genre of post where the point on its face is ideologically meaningless and entirely reliant on an audience's biased negative reaction to a certain popular online buzzword (in this case, "consuming media"). Define "media". Define "consumption". Are reading books, watching movies, and playing video games all inherently inferior hobbies for dumb babies? What about going to an art gallery? What about going to see a play? What makes those "different", if you instinctually answer "Noooo that's not the same!"? Where does creating art, or "media", fall into this equation? Why does your insistence on feeling in some way intellectually and/or morally superior than the peons who use TikTok always fall back on the idea that the only worthwhile, "real" hobbies require a certain level of physical, mental, and/or social ability and reinforce the glorification of manual labor? Why will we never Fucking be free?

[charlottetrash]

TW: MENTIONS OF SELF HARM

Listen. Listen for the love of everything nice and good. STOP FUCKING TALKING ABOUT JKR. just stop it. I'm pretty sure that she knows that 99% of the responses to her 'views' are negative everytime her name trends. She doesn't give a fuck.

Stop giving her relevance. Wash out her existence like the annoying bitch she is. Erase her like the Twilight Fandom did with SMeyer.

Nostalgia is a strong elixir and it's simply unnatural to expect everyone to quit talking about their childhood series altogether one day. If you can stop engaging with HP, good for you. I'm proud you have taken that decision.

However, if you cannot let go of the series the please for the fucking love of God stop blaming yourself. I'm a queer woc. JKR breaks my heart everyday yet her creation is the one place I find solace. Her creation matters more to me than her words and views.

Quitting Harry Potter is redundant as it is most definitely one of the biggest franchise in the world and the author being a dick doesn't throw enough of a negative light on it.

I loved HP as a child but honestly, my affection for the characters actually deepened when I joined the fandom and interacted with the THOUSANDS of fanfics, fanart, headcanons created by fans of every race, sexuality, gender identity.

i decide to engage with HP because to me the world the fandom created is more real and beautiful than the one JKR did. The works being created by Trans creators everyday matters as it forced me to rethink about gender. Being a person who grew up in a bigoted family I'm so grateful for this fandom as it is the reason that I have been able to become an ally and it has given me confidence to explore my sexuality and come to terms with it. I decide to stick with HP as I want to actively be a part of the queer and inclusive world creators of this fandom have created. The creators have nourished and polished JKR's characters to the point that the only thing they have in common is the name and THAT IS IMPORTANT TO MANY PEOPLE AS IT GIVES THEM A SENSE OF COMFORT.

so stop fuckin talking about JKR. stop responding to her bigoted statements as she's never gonna change. Instead, spread a bit more love around, especially for the trans creators because they exist and you cannot take that away from them.

I would suggest that instead of giving money to JKR, buy HP merch from small businesses. Buy the books second-hand. Donate to help trans individuals afford houses(I know you have seen the posts of a Trans sibling's plea for money to be able to afford their own apartment on various social media)

However, please do not ask people to kill themselves over liking and engaging with something that brings them comfort. I saw someone post "all people who engage with Harry Potter should slit their wrists and bleed out in a bathtub". Do you guys fucking understand that kids, YES LITERAL KIDS watch the movies and often times move onto the books? You're asking actual kids to slit their wrists?? What the absolute fuck is wrong with you?

Take some pointers from the Twilight Fandom who still engage with the creation yet not the creator effectively. Stop giving JK relevance even with posts disagreeing with her. It gives her ego boosts as she will make your logical arguments her banner of victimhood.

[just-another-mess-in-a-dress]

A Simple Kindness

YOI Snz Fic #1:

I finally sat down and decided to post some of my kink fics from over the years. Starting off with a bang:

Phichit my beloved, be still my beating heart I had to write for my boy. I love him so much, this was one of the first fics I wrote for this fandom. I hope you like it.

Fetish!Yuuri and a sneezy!Phichit because I’m horny and can’t help myself. Also Yuuri being a fuckin disaster is vibe okay!?!

Phichit 🥰⛸️

Just a little fyi I caught a pretty nasty cold ☹️🤧🤒

😬 IDK if you want to kick me out of the dorm.

I get it if you do.

I’ll try to keep my germs to myself! Promise.

😷

Yuuri reads the string of texts no less than thirteen times after receiving them. Because first of all, who gave emojis the right to be so lewd? And second… how the fuck is he supposed to keep it together if Phichit has a cold?

Their dorm is basically the size of a glorified closet there’s no way Yuuri can ahem… keep things to himself… Perhaps he should be more worried about Phichit potentially spreading some kind of virus to him but really that’s not so much a concern, per say… Also, is it wrong to be completely turned on by your friend’s cold and maybe lowkey hoping you catch it yourself?

Moral quandary aside, Yuuri does manage to text back.

I’m sorry to hear that! Of course I’m not kicking you out, you must be exhausted. When does your flight get in?

Yuuri tries to turn his attention back to business ethics but his mind is well and truly in the gutter now. Besides, the professor could not be more dull as he drones on about nothing and Yuuri’s a little busy hyper fixating on the emojis Phichit used.

As he sits there nervously bobbing his leg, Yuuri’s mind wanders to Phichit’s performance at the Cup of China just a day or so ago. He had looked a bit shaky with his jumps in the free skate and Yuuri knows Phichit’s triples are solid. Perhaps he wasn’t feeling well then too? Maybe that’s why he hadn’t placed well and that thought breaks Yuuri’s heart a bit.

Our flight leaves in about half an hour, I should be back around 5.

I’m so tired. Send help 😩

Grimacing at his phone again Yuuri tosses his notebook into his bag.

Do you need anything from the store? I’m going after class.

Yuuri taps his pen nervously on the edge of his desk as the professor’s conclusion slide pops up on the screen. Their midterm essay is due instead of class on Wednesday, which of course, Yuuri has already completed and sent in.

Just as he’s walking out the door, he gets a text that sends a rush of warmth between his legs.

Get lots of tissues and probably some of those disposable face masks. I’m really sneezy. 🤧 🤧 🤧

Like I haven’t really stopped sneezing since we landed in LA. 😩

People are staring at me lol.

Shit… Shit.

How is he even supposed to respond to that?! What does one say when their best friend says something that should be simple conversation but instead is giving Yuuri a new fantasy?

Is there anything else I can grab you?

It’s lame and stupid but holy shit he’s a little busy being jealous of all the people in LAX staring at Phichit…

Just some juice? You’re the best Yuuri! 💖💕💖

While Yuuri definitely disagrees with that sentiment he manages to smother his feelings (salacious and otherwise) long enough to get to the store. He gets four boxes of tissues, a pack of disposable masks, and a few small bottles of juice to put in their mini fridge. There’s a moment where he considers not grabbing disinfectant wipes and hand sanitizer, but he decides that he shouldn’t actively try to catch whatever Phichit is bringing with him.

He does his best not to think about his roommate’s condition until he’s back in the dorm. It takes a minute to put away his groceries and another five to feed the hamsters before he throws himself onto his bed. Only then does he let his mind (and okay, yes, his hand too. Sue him) wander. It’s not like he hasn’t seen Phichit sick before, they’ve been rooming together for two years now and they travel internationally. Illness is common, normal for them, even.

Turns out his dick didn’t get that memo, however, and still gets all tingly at the idea of a runny nose. Such is life, he supposes.

Once he’s handled himself, he turns to his schoolwork, the monotony of his assignments. The mundane task does the trick and he feels more in control of himself now. And yeah, okay, jerking off can do that too, crazy world.

He checks his syllabuses to placate his nerves; his history professor is notoriously strict and for a second he’s convinced himself he did his whole mid-term in the wrong citation style. However, his nerves only settle for a minute or two before they bundle up again. This time because his ears catch the sound of a very congested sneeze from down the hall.

Yuuri’s mouth dries a bit as he fidgets on his bed, lord have mercy here we go.

The door opens and Yuuri’s heart instantly beats a bit faster.

Phichit looks terrible even with half his face covered. His eyes are red and watery, his complexion is nearly grey, and there’s a wet spot sitting right in the middle of his face mask.

“Hey. How’s it going?” Phichit asks, his voice is drenched in congestion and the question is punctuated with a harsh sniff.

“I’m alright. I thought you weren’t supposed to land until five.” Yuuri closes his laptop and sets it aside.

“We got- hhin early.” Phichit’s eyes squint up towards the industrial light above. His chest rises sporadically but ultimately leaves him without the satisfaction of a sneeze. “Ciao Ciao took me to the Student Health Center. On the bright side, it’s not the flu.”

“That’s good.” Yuuri manages to nod as Phichit drops his bag at the foot of his bed.

“So how… how wa-was… ahh…” An unnecessary hand raises up to cover his face, though Yuuri wonders if maybe it is necessary considering the sodden material. “He-tchuh! Tishuh!.. heh… heh eh-Psheh!”

“Bless you.” Yuuri forces himself to look away as his roommate wipes his eyes.

“Thank you… snif!” Phichit sighs as he squeezes his eyes shut. “How was your week?”

“Oh, it was fine. Business as usual. It was nice to have practices by myself.” Yuuri watches Phichit deflate into his bed. “Did the health center give you anything?”

“Yeah… but I don’t think I can take it… you know how the ISU is about medication. Don’t wanna risk it.”

“I’m sure your cold medicine isn’t banned.” Yuuri tries to reason.

“Ciao Ciao offered to call the hotline to find something I could take. I told him not to bother… it’s just a cold.” Phichit shrugs out of his coat. Yuuri swears he can see the goosebumps rise on Phichit’s skin when the coat falls to the floor.

“Yeah but… you look pretty-”

“Et-chuh!”

“Bless you… miserable.” Yuuri bites back the undignified sound he wants to make.

“I’ll be fine.” Phichit sniffs a few times, “Ugh, sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Yuuri bites his lip as he shuffles off the bed. “I got your tissues and juice.”

“Tha-hank chuh!... thank you.”

Yuuri opens one of the boxes, then he decides to just bring the trash can with him as he returns to the beds.

“Here.”

He places the bin near the head of Phichit’s bed, when he turns back to his friend he has to bite down hard to keep his jaw from dropping.

Phichit has removed his soiled face mask revealing the mess beneath. His nose is a bright warning label shade of red and its glistens with thin strands of mucous. He sits just on the precipice of a testy sneeze, his eyes half closed, his nostrils flaring dramatically, and of course, the jittery gasps that all culminate in what has to be a hugely reliving release.

“Hep-Tshu! He-Tcha! God.” He groans.

“Bless you.”

Phichit snuffles into no less than six tissues to clean up what must be hours of mess. Between the flight and the drive back to the university… god why does Yuuri sort of wish he were a face mask? What the fuck even…

“You don’t have to keep blessing me… I’m gonna be sneezy all night.” Phichit tosses the wad of tissues into the bin. “Do you want me to wear a mask?”

“Uh, no, you don’t have to. You’re the sick one and you’ve flown halfway across the world today. Just try to get comfortable, okay?”

Phichit looks up at him gratefully, “Maybe you should wear one then? Trust me, you don’t want to catch this.”

Well, that’s just patently untrue… Regardless, Yuuri plucks one of the disposable masks out of the box and throws it on. At least now he can hide his blushing, right? Especially because Phichit sneezes twice more while Yuuri’s back is turned.

“The nurse says it’s just a head cold but Ciao Ciao isn’t letting me skate for at least a week.” Phichit slumps further into his bed, a thin cough escaping his lungs. “I mean, isn’t getting last place punishment enough?”

“I don’t think you’re being punished.” Yuuri says grabbing a bottle of juice from the mini fridge.

“No, it’s punishment… He’s upset because I went out there and did my free skate while I had a fever.”

Yuuri swallows thickly as he puts the drink on the nightstand. “Oh, well, in that case… I guess you’re being punished.”

“What was I supposed to do? I went all the way to China to skate so I-… huh… I skha-ate… skated… uhuh… ehh…” Phichit’s hand raises lethargically in front of his face. He takes four deep inhales clearly trying to entice the sneeze forward and failing to do so.

“Yeah but… You should remember that Celestino is in charge of us, especially when we’re abroad. He wants you to take care of yourself, that’s all.”

“You’re one to talk.” Phichit snorts, the grimace he gives afterwards indicates the action hurts at least a little bit.

“Well… it’s easy to say when I’m not the one in trouble.” Yuuri chuckles nervously.

Phichit squints again, a shaky sigh rattling his chest. “Ehhh… ahh-ha-… huh… come on… Heptshah! Hatchu! Etsha-ETCHOO!”

Yuuri has to really focus on not paying attention to his groin after that particular display. Holy shit, why does his roommate – his best friend no less – have to be the perfect picture of a head cold?

“Bless you.” Yuuri can’t help himself from commenting as Phichit mops up his nose.

“Thank you…”

“You don’t have any mid-terms coming up do you?” Yuuri asks settling back into his own bed.

“No, thank god.” Phichit looks up from blowing his nose, “Did them all before I left. If I can’t skate there’s no way I’m going to class.”

“That’s good then, you have time to rest.” Yuuri tries in vain to return to his assignment but it’s incredibly difficult considering the circumstances. Phichit really is sneezing every five to ten minutes which is starting to wear on Yuuri’s resolve. Between blowing, sniffling, and sneezing he’s basically living in the type of universe his wildest wet dreams could only imagine.

It’s a relief when Ciao Ciao calls him.

“How are you Yuuri?” He asks, perfectly unaware of how ridiculous that question sounds to him.

“I’m alright…”

“Great, can you do me a favor? I got Phichit some medication for his cold can you come get it from my office?”

“Sure thing coach, I’ll be there in a bit.” Yuuri nearly runs out of the room. Part of him is a bit embarrassed to do so. The last thing he wants is Phichit thinking he finds his cold disgusting, but damnit he has a great excuse now to get his shit together. He throws his mask away the second he sees a trash bin and instantly takes a deep breath. The world is certainly testing his resolve today.

The walk to Celestino’s office is blissfully calm and the cool evening air does the trick. By the time he arrives, Yuuri feels like himself again and he’s not being manhandled by his dick, thank god. Ciao Ciao corrals him into a conversation about the Grand Prix Final coming up in December before handing off the medication.

Yuuri strolls back to the dorms at a leisurely pace, his head swirling with an ocean of thoughts. Between the Final, schoolwork, and the intrusive thoughts about Phichit’s cold; his brain is overrun with activity.

When he pushes into their room he finds the lights are still on but Phichit is dead to the world. Still, he tries to rouse his friend from his slumber.

“Phichit? Celestino got you some medicine.” Yuuri says softly putting a hand on his shoulder to shake him. There’s a moment where Yuuri can’t help himself. He finds his hand creeping up to Phichit’s forehead to check for temperature. He’s warm but not to such a degree that Yuuri is concerned.

Phichit’s eyes crack open just the slightest bit.

“Hey, Ciao Ciao got you-”

“Het-chu!” Phichit’s eyes shut as he jolts forward with the sneeze.

Yuuri pulls his hand back and closes his gaping mouth. Holy shit, holy shit, Phichit just sneezed on him. Any resolve he might have gained on his little walk around campus instantly leaves his body as he takes a step back.

Phichit, however, hasn’t seemed to notice at all as he rears back for another sneeze.

Yuuri pushes the tissue box a fraction closer to his friend. Phichit buries his face into the offered tissues and sneezes two more times before he seems to be aware of the world around him.

“Ugh… Hey, how… how long have you been gone?” Phichit asks pulling another tissue out of the box to blow his nose.

“About an hour. Ciao Ciao got you some ISU approved medicine.” Yuuri holds out the box to him, still reeling from what has just happened. His legs feel weak and he’s incredibly warm inside.

“And you… Aw, Yuuri that’s so nice of you to go get it for me. Thank you.”

“It was no trouble.” Yuuri tries to hide the furious blush overtaking his features.

“I’d hug you but I don’t think either of us want that.” Phichit sniffs to prove the point.

Yuuri turns back to his bed while Phichit downs a dose. When Yuuri turns around he sees the familiar sight of Phichit scrolling through his phone.

“You don’t want to get back to sleep?”

“I’m making sure Chris yelled at Viktor for me.” Phichit wipes his nose with the heel of his hand.

Yuuri sputters out a few incomprehensible sounds before eventually settling on a: “Huh!?”

“Oh, yeah. Viktor was patient zero.” Phichit rolls his eyes, “I’m pretty sure that he either doesn’t know how to cover his mouth or he was conspiring against us. The man was a walking biohazard during our practice days.”

It’s official, Yuuri no longer exists. Not on this Earth and maybe not even the next. Phichit has Viktor King-of-the-Ice Nikiforov’s cold. Phichit got to witness Viktor having the head cold from hell for days, and he apparently never covered his mouth. And now Yuuri has been infected. With Viktor’s cold. Viktor’s sneezy drippy cold. What a world.

The next few days are going to be quite the adventure. And Yuuri has some internet sleuthing to do to see if anyone recorded the Cup of China practice…

[alligatorjesie]

Love how you state right at the top of reply how you 'did tag this properly'

Then proceeded to actually tag it how you fucking should have to fucking start with

but still did not fix the tags in your original post

That's really fun. </s>

The correct tags you're looking to use so you don’t end up coughing your hate everywhere with your uncovered mouth you filthy fucking animal are:

Anti-fandom

Anti_fandom

or Antifandom

The tag you don't want to use is;

Anti Fandom

with the space

like you did correctly in this reply post.

because ya kinda understand what you did wrong there now, don’t you?

Here's a little tumblr coding basics 101;

if I made the tag

'Zuko dies in a horrible train crash after Godzilla shit on the tracks'

That entire tag will now show up in the zuko tag, the godzilla tag, the shit tag, the train tag, so on and so on.

Because that's how this website works.

Tumblr considers spaces in a tag kinda like a new instance of a tag. A comma in the code acts like a ‘stop’. When you type out a full sentence with spaces it considers those spaces ‘tag breaks’.

It'll do the small work for you and ignore the instances of 'The' or 'In' and 'A' but everything else that could potentially be a keyword gets thrown into the site-wide tagging system.

When someone arranges a tag as one word (either by actually making it one word or using a hyphen) Tumblr will look at it and go 'Ah! This is one word!' and sorts it accordingly.

To Tumblr 'anti' is an active(awful) tag so when you tag something 'anti reylo' it will sort it into the anti tag and reylo tag accordingly.

Meaning the regular joes who are just going about their normal business in their fandom space and haven’t preemptively blocked the anti tag or you personally will now see you being an asshole to us in living color.

Over the fact 'you think' the zutara ship is more morally upstanding because it has less ‘problematic’ issues over a nearly identical canon ship, reylo, which is Ben Solo and Rey from Star Wars, and the also non-canon Harry Potter ship, dramione.

They're fictional fucking ships.

bodycount don’t really fuckin’ matter because the fake people they killed are fake.

There's no moral supremacy over one vs the other.

Uncle Iroh was a decorated war general so I'm pretty sure his body count is higher than everyone in the room but since we get to only see him in ‘jolly old man trying to stop his stupid nephew from becoming his monster of a father’ mode so we kinda forget he's a fuckin' war general.

and you know what man

I just don’t fucking know what crack you smoked to come up with this one

so here we fucking are

And since op tagged this so poorly when they made the original post trying to put my whole fucking fandom on blast

like some kinda beacon

a whole ass reylo showed up would ya fuckin’ believe it?

after tagging the reylo fandom?

Well that reylo is now here to help you get your facts straight and to ask you once again with feeling to fix those tags and find your nearest exit buddy

Anyways, basic fucking coding lesson aside:

This isn't a case of 'if you dislike it you should just scroll past'

this is a case of 'Why the fuck are you even fucking here?'

I'm glad you got zutara, a nice enjoyable ship that I also interact with on this demon’s asshole of a website because it has such striking resemblance to reylo, to look at fondly and enjoy but there is no fucking reason for you to come into other Incredibly Similar Fandom's Tags

LIED ABOUT SHIT ABOUT THOSE CHARACTERS/SHIPS OUTRIGHT

then tell those people their ships are worse 'because the writing was bad'.

you said and I quote: Kylo also has a worse record than Zuko: murdering his dad, oppressing countless people, killing civilians, and maiming people.

Kylo Ren is a weapon of war being used by a tyrannical madman who has been in his head since childhood.

he was convinced to kill his father by this madman and regrets doing it so badly his entire moral compass gets upended and he literally kills that same madman The Very Next Fucking Movie, not for power mind you,

but because he wanted to save Rey

He even still regrets killing his father in tros, a point JJ needed to so sloppily rammed in there he just copy pasted a whole fucking scene from his last movie.

Kylo never kills a single civilian throughout the entire trilogy. The town of people he killed at the beginning of TFA are Resistance members. He is not responsible for the planetary system being blown up in TFA that was Hux and Snoke

Kylo Ren Only Kills Combatants Of War For The Entire Trilogy.

(go on @fanfic-lover-girl , go check for yourself. It’s only 3 movies. I’ll watch them with you. Again.

We'll see who's right about these little details, the person who has seen these movies over and over or the person who admits they ain't watched them once)

you just straight up lied about a character to make yourself feel better about your fictional ship.

And that’s just fucking nuts to me man.

What the fuck ass backwards world are we living in that this is the hell you choose to raise? There's 2 wars going on and the fucking nazis are back but this is what you wanna put on blast?

That reylo and dramione are worse ships because the writing isn’t good to you?

I assure you the fans in these fandom have gone above and beyond to fix the bad writing brought on by their imperfect creators but the shit you’re complaining about ain’t even problems. You’re just making shit up

How Fucking Nice must it be to have people who made your media be perf little snowflakes but it is not our fucking fault JJ is a fucking moron and JKRolfing is a massive terf cunt.

(Rian tho is actually perfect and is responsible for 75% of Ben's character growth in canon so bless that man he did his fucking best but I digress-)

People have created whole fucking short animated movies and detailed comics along with incredibly well written fanfictions to correct what they didn't like about the story.

‘death of the author’ at work baby.

Unless you’re the fucking fandom police your opinion on what is good media vs bad mean don’t mean jack fuckin’ shit brah.

so,

kindly,

Fuck off.

PS:

You know being told to kill myself nearly 1000 times over the past year and a half ain’t been a fuckin’ cakewalk enough without the added shit frosting that is people in fandoms trying to talk down to other nearly identical fandoms.

This banner ain't a fuckin' joke. I have been told to kill myself this many times by antis posting hate into the reylo tag.

Assholes like you are 1000 times worse than all the fictional bad men combined.

You're going after real people.

Do better

Anyhoots here’s a fuckin’ picture of my cat she’s fucking adorable

Demonization of the Enemies to Lovers Trope

I find it very disingenuous when Zutara antis compare or lump Zutara with problematic ships like Reylo and Dramione. Anyone who makes a claim like this should have not any opinions about ATLA respected. Because they obviously did not watch the show.

There are major differences that set Zutara apart from Reylo and Dramione.

Zutara vs Dramione - Friendship

Zuko and Katara reconciled and became very close friends in season 3. Draco and Hermione disliked each other in canon and the best of their relationship was civility. Dramione could have served the same narrative function as Zutara by representing union after war but Dramione lacked the canon building blocks that Zutara had.

Zutara vs Reylo - Redemption

Zuko has a powerful redemption arc. But even when Zuko was an antagonist, he was never truly evil. And Zuko's actions towards Katara (eg tying her to a tree) were not completely monstrous. Zuko and Katara never crossed any boundaries while enemies. When Katara starts showing compassion to Zuko, it is in season 2 when Zuko is no longer an active threat (eg. offering to heal Iroh and their emotional moment in the catacombs). Compare this to Reylo where there are all these romantic undertones while Reylo and Kylo are still enemies. Kylo also has a worse record than Zuko: murdering his dad, oppressing countless people, killing civilians, and maiming people. And Rey for some reason, before Kylo does anything to deserve it, begins to feel sorry for him. Unlike Zuko, we don't see Kylo truly atone for what he did to Rey. Not to mention the abusive elements in their relationship such as Kylo calling Rey worthless.

The point is that people need to stop demonizing enemies to lovers ships. And stop lumping healthy ships like Zutara with more toxic ships like Dramione and Reylo. It's not a fair comparison.

[a-slut-for-smut]

R u an ichiruki? I’m still salty about the ending lmao I can’t believe it. Do you know any IR blogs and any archive/library (fics) blog?

Also, recommendations of IR for horny jail pls

Hello fellow ichiruki anon!

Yup, big sloppy slut for ichiruki indeed, ill honestly go down with this ship despite that shipwreck of an ending. I'll admit i didnt follow the anime/manga entire as it dragged on with filler arcs and life got busy etc, but when i heard about the ending i thought i was having a fucking stroke, i still cannot make sense of it to this day (nor do i want to because my brain actively works to delete this kind of dumbfuckery from my memory). While its such a shame how it ended and spiritually i wanna be outside kubo's house like

...but then I take a deep breath and just tell myself titty kubo had a brain aneurysm and just leave it at that.

ANYWAY to your ask- full disclaimer when i was primetime ichiruki slut i was just a lurker, and this was YEARS ago but ill do my best to help ya out. I do follow some ichiruki peeps from back then but they more or less have moved to other ships/interests, but the ones below seem more active IR blogs from what i can tell:

@dangerousbride IR fanart/comics. Love her artstyle and always will @jellyribbons IR artist, gorgeous gorgeous art @hashtagartistlife IR artist/writer. Big slut for her work

@ichiruki good IR treats, very active @ichirukilover good IR treats, very active

Now im actually not aware of any IR archive library blog, but if there is one i would also be curious to know! @ ichiruki fandom, can anyone help us out???

And to the last part of your ask re: IR horny jail fic recs, there are 2 things you should know:

1. I am so out of date when it comes to the latest fics, and i mean by YEARS. So any i recommend will be old but obviously TASTY AF

2. At the time a lot of smut fics were "post-686" "fix-it" naturally, but a lot dealt with blatant adultery/infidelity. Now anyone who knows me i have a mutual respect kink. Not just to how my OTPs have towards each other, but for ppl they care about. While the smut was amazingly written/angst-ridden and im a total angst slut too, part of me had a hard time really investing myself in those fics as I personally cant condone cheating ever, because i know from experience how utterly it can destroy a person. So in general, my fic recs will be AU/canon divergent. AUGH i lament how kubo didnt make the ending open-ended, it would have been so much better :( Also in my headcanon i like to think despite IR being soulmates, they have utmost integrity to not hurt ppl they care about despite their immense love for each other, and that folks is some sweet sweet angst/doomed romance. Actually if anyone knows any fics like that pls share!!!

OKAY HERES THE IR SMUT FEST, ENJOY!!!

Unveiled by@hashtagartistlife God tier IR smut. Like seriously, this one is BEAN-FLICKIN good yaknowwhatimsayin Winter Warmth by@gunnerpalace Starts fluffy but then HOTHOTHOT The Two-Body Problem also by@gunnerpalace I remember how well-written the sexual tension building between IR was, i FELT their anticipation and anxiousness around each other. I think the smut chapter is actually on their blog and not on Ao3 for some reason! Nurse Rukia by Aquari Lynnel (MazokuSempai) Premise is a little silly/kinky but has all the good stuff :D The Red String That Binds by DeathMeetsLife Actually this one isnt really smutty but i HAVE to rec due to the sweet sweet angst scenario i just went on about because this is an angst FIESTA. BUT no cheating as Kazuo and Ichika are actually IR baby twins but are separated from birth...i wont spoil just READ its so good The Parting Glass by Darksknight LOL ok this isnt even primarily IR more Orihime x Ulquiorra, and actually is post 686/fix it BUT i had to rec because a) Orihime is given some fuckin agency her character deserved and i really like the authors take on her/POV b) the author is fuckin hilarious and on point with all the characterizations c) this fic is a fuckin gem, seriously just read it you wont have any regrets trust me

fuck me this post was long and i am sooooo behind on shit i needa do gotta end it here, hopefully this helps anon!!! xoxo

[janiedean]

had no idea about the witcher bts drama (or that there was any at all) but im also lowkey feeling bad for Hemsworth (not that ppl are being shitty to him, everywhere i see fandom has been weirdly mature when it comes to the actors) - but so many are not gonna watch S4 with Cavill who IS geralt for all of us and if the show is THAT disrespectful to the books, i feel S3 is probably bad. which might turn away even casual fans. And of course even the remaining would keep comparing him and Cavill? I mean good that he's getting the Netflix money though lol.

(although now that i think about it, Netflix seems to be just doing worse and worse business wise and NO FUCKIN WONDER)

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i mean there is nothing about this that screams SENSED BUSINESS DECISION from anyone netflix starting but then again they seem to be headed for taking any single shitty business choices they could so ì wouldn’t be surprised BUT

wrt the behind the scenes stuff HC has never made a mystery that he tried to course correct - see that they wanted to play roach’s death for laughs and he refused/used the book stuff, and i think just very recently someone who used to write for the show who is now headlining some xmen thing idk about said that some ppl in the writers room either werent familiar with books/games or like actually disliked them actively which given some show choices AND the fact that they totally missed what’s imvho a pretty fundamental aspect of the books’ tone at least is not at all surprising to hear, and that’s not counting the showrunner trying to have CIVIL CONVERSATIONS BC EVERYONE SHOULD BE HEARD with.. some altright/borderline neonazis on twt which was when i unfollowed her and that’s all i know wrt bts drama but if s3 is headed towards more s2 stuff i can believe HC would be like you know what im out

that said it’s a total crap choice they should have either renegotiated with him and stopped making stuff up or ended at s3 because he’s not the kinda face you can recast at this point not counting the fact that he was good at the part, and like… idk how smart its on hemsworth’s end tbh because like he’s a nice dude and i did enjoy the few stuff of his ive seen but he’s nowhere near looking like a suitable replacement and if s4 tanks he’ll have it on his back anyway and like…. it’s not fair to him either? and the fact that he’s not established makes it worse imvho because people will just expect him to be.. not HC and like it’s just bad, i’m sorry for the other actors too tbh bc HC doesn’t need that show on his cv to work but for everyone else main it was their first huge job and.. yeah :/ i mean idt he should have stayed if he hated it but like tldr fuck netflix

[olderthannetfic]

Something I've noticed in fandom that I don't particularly like is how... serious, everyone takes everything. I don't mean this acc in particular, but just. Why do I need to send a professional grammarly-edited thesis for why I like/dislike something. Why do I need to speak to everyone like they are my boss, and why do they speak to me like I am their child. Why. And another thing: why do people automatically assume malice? Over discord servers, unless it is a politics specific discord, I try not to talk about politics. Yet somehow everyone and their grandmother feels they have the right to assume where I stand just because I don't make it clear every damn sentence with performative lip service. Fandom has always been political, but God fucking damn, give me a break. And this whole business with minors; I don't give a fuck. Sincerely. I wasn't the pure Christian child and I don't expect anyone else to be, but again and again I've gotta sit here and listen to some random stranger on the internet tell me that because I only have 18+ in my bio that is not enough to prove I'm an adult and therefore unworthy to follow them. How about this for proof: fuck right off, you have no privilege to know my age, my gender, or anything about me. I put 18+ in my bio as a courtesy, not because you fuckin demanded it. And then God forbid you violate one of the three thousand rules in a fandom discord. I can understand if it's graphic images or hate speech, but getting told not to make """nsfw comments""" over a ligma joke??? Like is this fucking first grade??? There's so much damn discourse over nsfw and actual fucking issues that people have somehow conflated the two into one issue that should be taken dead seriously. Little confession? I hate fandom discord. I do. You enter a fandom discord, they either have a bazillion useless channels, pay lip service to political issues while in the same breath taking a fuckin fandom week as seriously as a protest, are pearl clutchers of the highest degree, or all at the same time. AND ANOTHER THING. How did a space so fucking queer become so damn christain??? When did it become the norm to act like a passive aggressive stereotype of a southern evangelical when someone is ""sinful"".

I'm tired.

Sorry for the rant.

--

Heh. Yeah. Honestly, I think people sometimes forget they can just... moderate things themselves. Yeah, yeah, it’s work, but you set the tone for your own space.

I thought a lot about what to say for my latest discord. I ended up with a “server philosophy” channel instead of a “rules” one for now. It has one post so far, which reads:

This server is for fans of Abe no Seimei (Qing Ming) and Minamoto no Hiromasa (Bo Ya), media they appear in, and the topic of onmyouji or "yin yang masters" in history and media.

We're a space for adults to discuss in a chill environment. All kinks are welcome. Bigotry, including anti-fujoshi hate, is not.

The entire server is a potentially nsfw and choose-not-to-warn environment.

I hate going into a discord and seeing a massive wall-o-text full of nitpicky regulations, and then the mods always end up ruling based on their gut feelings about things anyway. I figure something short that hits the target tone clearly might help more than an exhaustive list of thou shalt nots.

But it also helps to keep your fandom spaces down to a dozen or two active people, not the entire damn internet at once.

[zodiyack]

Heart Of Gold

Pairing: John Shelby x Female!Reader, Polly + Female!Reader (platonic)

Warnings: Swearing

Words: 1,896

Summary: Polly cares for Y/n in private, feeling sympathy for the woman left with her five year old boy and no money or food, but John stumbles in on one of their meetings and can’t help but be nosy.

Note: So! I won’t be active this weekend, hopefully I upload a couple fics to my que beforehand (I’m planning on it, but I can’t promise anything). also, pardon my shock of just now discovering that fridges have existed since like 1805, and my odd hysteria over the word count... John was born in 1895 lmao

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @simonsbluee​, @peakysputain, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it

Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

“Polly!” The little boy, knots and tangles in his beautiful h/c hair, ran to the woman and giggled as she lifted him up. She held him on her hip, walking to Y/n and giving her a side-hug.

“It’s nice to see you too, Jonas.” Polly smirked at Jonas. His appearance was rather “rich-looking” despite him being nowhere near such. The truth was, ever since the Peaky Blinders had been making tons and tons of money, Polly had been helping Y/n and Jonas.

When she first met them, she had just bought herself a gorgeous gown. She remembered stumbling upon the little boy, his mother chasing after him. Halting in place, she began chuckling to herself as the boy flashed her a smile, his two front teeth nowhere to be found.

Polly took them in. Sneaking them into the house when the rest of the family had left, buying them clothes, teaching Y/n stuff like baking- cooking- sewing- really anything that could help her and Jonas. She felt like she was a mother all over again, only this time, to a woman and the woman’s son.

But, hey, she wasn’t one to complain.

“His teeth are growing back in. Soon, he will be a big boy, isn’t that right Jojo?” He nodded in response. Jonas opened his mouth and tapped his gums, where, sure enough, two tiny teeth were poking out- slightly visible but not that much. Polly rubbed his cheek, pinching slightly, and kissed the opposite one.

“When I’m a big boy, I get to help!”

The women laughed with adoration and intrigue. “How so, little Jojo?”

“Well...I can protect mommy. That’s what big boys do, especially the big-big boys- they fight in wars against other big-big boys.”

He had a great amount of bravery and an equal, possibly even greater, amount of imagination to balance it out. Having never known his father, Jonas took it as his sworn duty to care for and protect his mother. And while Y/n found amusement in her mini knight in shining armor, she felt insecure in her parenting skills; if he were to make it his duty to protect her, thus taking what she felt her was job as a mother, what would she do?

Polly had been their savior and somewhat-Y/n’s-counselor. In summary, Pol had known how Y/n felt about her little boy’s confidence, many worries consisting of his safety, her insecurities, and how their relationship would turn out as he grew older.

“That’s right. However, little one, your mummy would like to protect you until you’re old enough to protect her and yourself.” Polly brushed his hair from his eyes. She studied his small face for any negative reactions before continuing, “Is that alright with you?”

He thought for a moment and brought his finger to his lips. As he furrowed his brows and scrunched his face, his baby-fat clung to his cheeks and made his expression look more cute than intimidating. “I guess... But I can still protect her...right?”

“You can protect each other.”

“Hooray!” Jonas’ arms flung into the air whilst he began to celebrate.

“Alright, aright, Mr. Hero. It’s time for your bath.” Y/n traded the set of clothes and a small-ish towel to Polly in exchange for her son. She kept him busy as Pol started the boy a bath.

It was a regular routine. Twice a week they’d come in to bathe, eat, get some homeschooling done, and just have some social interaction time with someone they both knew and were actually comfortable with.

They put him into the tub and allowed him some time to play. Polly looked at her pocket-watch, noting the time it had been when he’d got in, and made sure to check ever now and then for when he would be required to start the actual bathing process.

“You can take a nice, long, bath after, dear.” Polly had never been subtle about her observation-skills, and today was no different; she waited until the tea was done before continuing to talk, pouring two cups of tea and a cup of milk. She set a cup of tea in front of Y/n and the cup of milk in front of the seat next to her. The third teacup was in her hands as she sipped it slowly.

“Pardon?”

“You’re stressed. You’ve got bags under your eyes, Jojo has way to much energy to be normal, you can hardly keep up with him, not to mention- the way you looked at that hot water...”

“It’s fine... I-”

“No.” Polly set her cup down, “It’s not ‘fine’, Y/n. You’re stressed. That’s normal for a parent. You just need some time to relax. I know you usually just wash your hair and body- but please; take advantage of this. Take advantage of it, for once.”

Y/n laughed for a second, but stopped when she realized Polly had been serious. “W-what do you mean?”

“Stay in that tub. Wash yourself before or after- I don’t care. Just stay in it, relax in the warm water, close your eyes if you’d like, anything as long as you relax and stay in the tub.”

“I’m ready!” Jojo’s high-pitched voice rang from the other room, catching both adult’s attention.

Polly downed the rest of her tea and stood up, pushing her chair in. She didn’t leave without giving Y/n a kind smile that disguised the pensiveness in her eyes and voice. “Think about what I said.”

Eight or more minutes later, Polly had returned to the kitchen. Jojo sat on her hip, clad in only his little undershorts and equally as small wife-beater. Aside from clothing, he also wore his towel- which lied over his shoulders as he shivered.

Before Y/n could stand up to grab her son, Polly put her arm out, “Bath. Now. Before I set Jojo down and force you in there myself.” She knew Pol was joking, but she also knew how serious she was.

So she obliged, walking into the room and stripping down before stepping into the tub slowly and sinking into the hot water. It wasn’t too hot, nor was it too warm or cold- it was just perfect. If only she’d listened to Polly about everything- it had been less than ten minutes, and she was already drifting away.

Although her eyes were clenched shut and her body and breathing acted as if her brain had commanded the REM cycle to start, she was wide awake. ‘How silly I must look,’ she thought to herself, ‘A woman who’s never relaxed in her life? No wonder Polly can see right through me.’

The feeling of comfort, given to her by the noises of Jonas and Polly’s laughter as Pol found a way to make getting dressed all the more fun, held her down into the tub and prevented her from leaving, glad that Jojo was safe and having a good time.

Polly poked her head in the door, “I’m going to take Jojo to buy a new toy.” Y/n opened her mouth to object, telling Polly she didn’t have too, but the woman held up a hand and cut her off, “I’m aware that it is unnecessary, but he’s been well behaved for every visit, so I figured he earned it. We’ll be back shortly, I promise.”

She hesitated but nodded and yelled a goodbye to the two, sinking lower into the warmth of the water and shutting her eyes again. Minutes had gone by, the only sound being her fingers skimming through and under the water and the soft breaths that escaped her mouth.

However, the state of solitude had been shoved aside when the door opened and footsteps paced to the kitchen.

Y/n sat up and opened her eyes. She waited for a sign that Jojo or Polly were headed towards the bathroom, perhaps to retrieve or check on her, but nothing came. Slowly and carefully, Y/n stood up and stepped out of the tub, wrapping her towel around her torso and walking out of the room.

“I know you said you’d be back shortly, but I didn’t think you meant that short-” she had been expecting Polly and Jonas, coming back with more toys than they’d originally left for, but was greeted by a man’s backside as he dug through Polly’s refrigerator. He pulled away from it, a bottle in hand and a smile upon his face, and turned towards Y/n. His smile faded as he looked her up and down.

He gulped before speaking, quite obviously affected by her appearance. “Who’re you-”

“I could ask you the same thing! What are you doing here?”

“This is my home!”

Polly had never told her of any men residing in the home, “If you’re lying to me, you’d better say so now.”

“I’m not fuckin’ lying!” The man looked almost offended, “I live here! Now, please, inform me and why you, from what I can see, are using my tub?”

“For your information, not that you need- let alone, deserve- to know, I was told to relax.”

“Deserve?” A scoff tumbled from his mouth, “Well- not in my bloody house! Go home! Go ‘relax’ in your own fuckin’ bath!” He ran his hand down his face and began to drink from his bottle, but whispered to himself before his lips met the cold lining of the top. “Jesus...”

“Ah, I see you two’ve met.” Polly commented from the doorway, “John, this is Y/n. Y/n, John. He’s my nephew.”

“I thought I was your nephew-” John’s eyes darted down beside Pol, a bit of shock in his system when they found a little boy standing next to her- the spitting image of the woman he’d just met.

“No, love, you’re my pretend nephew. Like a god mother, but an aunt instead.”

“Shit- I’m so sorry-”

“No...There’s no need for apologies. I can imagine how surprising it is to find a stranger half-nude in your home.” She chewed on the inside of her mouth nervously and presented her hand for him to shake. “Y/n L/n. That monster over there is my little boy, Jojo.” Almost ending the introduction there, she realized what she’d missed and rushed to talk before he could. “His actual name is Jonas L/n.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/n and Jojo. My name is John Shelby.” John observed Y/n, and as he did so- he swore his heart did a backflip. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?” It was like he broke character; his voice softening and his eyes narrowing, a small grin pulling at his lips when Y/n let out a nervous chuckle and averted her eyes. He forgot that they weren’t the only people present.

“So I take it they can continue to visit- only now, they may while you and the others are present?”

John nodded, still not fully focused on anything except for the woman, whom he could’ve sworn was a literal angel, in front of him. Had it not been for his aunt’s kind heart, he would’ve never met the woman who managed to steal his heart upon their first, and very unplanned, meeting.

Due to his trance-like-state, it had taken him a minute or two to process what his aunt said, but by then, Y/n was back in the bathroom- likely getting dressed- and Jojo had followed Polly to the family room.

“Wait- continue?”

[forasecondtherewedwon]

They’re Sayin’ (You’re Gonna Be My Man)

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes Rating: T Word Count: 2217

Summary: Sam calls Bucky too soon after he's left Louisiana, looking for advice he doesn’t really need and getting a conversation he didn’t really expect.

Sam’s supposed to wait until news of the Flag-Smashers’ movements comes down the line to get in touch with Bucky. He doesn’t. It’s sooner. It’s almost right away.

He’s sure Bucky’s gotta be out of the state, but he doesn’t know whether he’s made it back to this alleged apartment in Brooklyn (on some level, Sam’s aware that he keeps making jokes about the conspiracy of the apartment’s existence because it’s his way of daring Bucky to invite him over sometime). When he calls Bucky up, he knows he might catch him on a plane, in a cab, with a buzz of voices around him as he scowls at strangers in an airport or stomps down a sidewalk. But, other than Bucky’s voice on the other end, Sam just hears quiet, so he figures the guy made it home.

“You never told me if you had any tips,” Sam accuses straight off.

Shifting his feet, he tamps down more of the grass he’s been practicing on, squinting when sweat rolls into his eye. He just finished a brisk mile with the shield on his arm, getting used to the weight and the bulk of it, and he’s ready to start throwing again.

“Tips for what?” Bucky asks. “Fixing the boat? General life stuff? I know we had a good talk, but I think I take advice better than I give it.”

“Which is not saying much,” Sam points out with a laugh. “You suck at taking advice.”

“Until recently.”

“Until recently,” Sam allows. He takes a deep breath and leans over to the side, stretching from his run and tapping his hand on the Vibranium disc currently propped against his leg. “Nah, man, for the shield. How to throw it, how to catch it, how to pull off some of Steve’s fuckin’ boomerang tricks.”

“I thought you were gettin’ the hang of it,” Bucky says in his ear.

“I am. I just realized that, when I had you here, you did a lot of standing around and catching the shield on that cyborg arm of yours. Not a lot of active advice-giving.”

“You really want me telling you how to do your job?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, nobody said that. I am simply aware of the fact that you’re one of very few people alive who’ve handled this thing, and maybe the only one who did it with any actual competence.”

“The level of flattery is astounding,” Bucky says dryly.

“You want more, you gotta help me out,” Sam jokes back.

“Well, show me what you’re doin’.”

Sam glances around himself. Flat lawn. Waning daylight. Tall trees wrapped in the pads he’s been ricocheting the shield off of. No place good to prop his phone.

“I gotta get somebody to film me,” he realizes. “Lemme call you back.”

“Everybody’s gonna be filming you with the shield pretty soon. Only question is whether you’re doing something impressive in news footage or looking like a jackass in some kind of Avengers’ Greatest Fuckups reel.”

“Shut the hell up. I thought we were gettin’ along now.”

“Just trying to be motivational. Am I not doing it right?”

“I think you better look up the word ‘motivational’ in the dictionary while you wait for my call,” Sam suggests.

He disconnects and hangs his head, shaking it even as he smiles.

His legs are screaming for a thorough, post-workout stretch and maybe some ice on his shins—they’ve been taking the brunt every time he digs his feet into the ground and braces to snatch the returning shield from the air—but what’s another quarter mile? Sam runs to Sarah’s, arms pumping, stride a little different now that he has to accommodate the shape of the shield.

When he gets there, the boys are playing soccer on the lawn and he calls through the screen window to the kitchen to get his sister’s ok to borrow them as his training assistants. They get even more excited by the bestowing of this title and its implied responsibility than by the sight of the shield. That’s pretty incredible. Sarah caves to a temporary borrowing (supper’s almost ready) and they’re off.

On the way back, Sam lets AJ carry the shield. Seems like a nice break for himself until Cass requests a piggyback.

“Alright,” Sam agrees with a sigh, crouching in front of his nephew. “Hop on.”

Captain America’s benevolence is limitless. At least, it is this evening. When his back’s killing him tomorrow from absorbing the shock of a hundred shield throws, he will not be so easily persuaded into giving piggybacks.

In the clearing, Sam pulls his phone from the zipped pocket of his shorts and videocalls Bucky, who picks up on the first ring. His face is too close to the camera, but it’s good to see those blue eyes and the crinkles that are either there because he’s smiling in greeting or he’s confused about how a videocall works. In a few seconds, Bucky figures out for himself that he needs to hold the phone farther away. It makes Sam miss him. Also makes him a little worried because he can see the blank, white wall of Bucky’s apartment around his head. No paint, no art. Sam can’t even hear a TV or anything in the background.

“You’re not busy,” he observes.

“Not really, no,” Bucky admits.

“You coulda stayed here longer.”

“Nah, you needed time with everything, not me constantly looking over your shoulder. Shield’s yours now, Sam. I’m gonna be at your side, but you and the shield… I got no say in what that relationship is. I understand that now and I’m trying to respect it.”

“So when you’re actually doing the right thing, let you back off?”

“That’s right,” Bucky agrees.

“I’ll try to remember in case it ever happens again.”

Before Bucky can defend himself against Sam’s teasing jab, Sam passes the phone to AJ, camera turned so Bucky will still be focused on him when he starts throwing the shield again.

“Got you propped up on my human tripod,” he informs Bucky, reaching above the phone to playfully shove the side of AJ’s head. “So watch your mouth.”

“Can I say hi?”

“Don’t be a smartass,” Sam warns.

And, of course, Bucky eggs the kids into a long ooooh, like they’ve caught him breaking his own rule. Which they have. But Bucky was being a smartass and the opportunity to let him know is not something Sam likes to pass up.

He’s stretching now—maybe for himself, maybe for the camera pointed his way—gripping his ankles in turn and holding his heels to his ass until he feels the pull in his thighs. Bucky’s not wrong about having this time to himself. Just him and this legendary object that’s feeling more right on his arm every time he slips it through the straps. Still, he misses what they had going the last two days. Not him and the shield, but him and Bucky. Having him here like that… It was different from every other experience Sam’s had with him. Bucky was still, in turns, a grouch and a showoff and a staring machine and a shithead (flirting with Sarah, come ON), but he was also more convincingly a person than Sam’s had the pleasure of seeing him before. At ease and multi-faceted by nature instead of the necessity of adapting in the face of a threat.

Bucky smiled.

They didn’t always bicker.

He looked damn good in the morning when they leaned against the kitchen counter, not talking, sipping their coffee.

Sam wants those minutes back so bad. Living with Bucky here was incomparable to living with him overseas. Lotta reasons for that, including not having to share the space with Baron Zemo. Mostly because this is home and Sam liked pretending, while Sarah did some well-deserved sleeping in and the boys got the hems of their pajama pants wet in the dew in the backyard, that it was real. That this breath between their fights (no longer with each other) could last and that this is where they’d hold it. It could be their kitchen, their mugs, their tousled sheets Bucky’d climbed out of, looking all rumpled and lovely and shit.

But Bucky doesn’t know what Sam pretends and Sam sure as hell isn’t going to tell him. He’s just going to keep faithful to their usual dynamic, trying for less glaring. Not a word to unsettle things, as much as he’s curious how they might handle things being unsettled. As much as his mind plays back the blinding glint off the water as they rolled up their sleeves and went to work together in a way more meaningful, more personal, than they ever have before. Plays it back all the time.

No. Quiet. Sam needs to figure himself out first and knows Bucky’s working on doing the same. Maybe sometime—but probably never—they can see how those selves overlap. All they need to make fly right now is being Captain America and… what’d that moron call himself? The White Wolf? Son of a biscuit…

“Let me see him!” Cass says excitedly, recapturing Sam’s focus.

It’s his brother he’s talking to and Sam watches fondly as AJ turns the phone to show Bucky a grinning Cass, being careful to keep it steady. Pretty damn sweet. Cass even waves while Sam stands there, watching and doing shoulder rolls.

“Hi, Uncle Bucky!”

Sam feels like he just whipped the shield out and caught the return in his stomach. He strides over to the boys and AJ passes the phone back without being asked. He’s stifling giggles despite or because he senses that his little brother shouldn’t have said that.

“One minute,” Sam tells Bucky, hardly glancing at him because he just can’t. He tilts the camera towards the ground and raises expectant eyebrows at his grinning nephews. “Did somebody tell you to call him that?”

In unison, the boys go, “No, Uncle Sam,” which is suspiciously adorable. But they aren’t liars.

“Did you hear somebody call him that?”

AJ and Cass glance at each other and that’s enough for Sam. They won’t answer, so he knows it’s Sarah who’s made this joke, put this idea in the kids’ heads. They won’t give her up though, because they’re Wilsons and they’re loyal to their mother.

Sam turns the camera back on himself, unprepared for the upward tick at the corner of Bucky’s lips that make them even harder to look away from than usual.

“My sister must’ve—”

“I know,” Bucky interrupts.

“You know?”

“Yeah. Sarah called me that to my face.”

“She did what?”

Sarah having her joke is one thing, but saying it to Bucky takes things a little far, in Sam’s opinion. Bucky could think Sarah’s serious. He could think she’s saying that because Sam’s said something to her. Something about coffee and bedsheets and the sweet ache he felt in his chest when he saw Bucky’s smile in the golden light of dawn.

“Last night, before she put the boys to bed. You were in the shower, I think.” Bucky reaches up absentmindedly to run a hand over the top of his head; the flex of his bicep in the long-sleeved shirt he’s wearing and waiting for the end of this recollection are both torture for Sam. “They wanted to hang out with me, but Sarah said, ‘Uncle Bucky’s gotta get some sleep. You’ll see him tomorrow.’ Something like that.”

Now, when Sam’s truly learning the meaning of flabbergasted, Bucky’s mouth cracks into a wide, self-satisfied smile.

“You made that up,” Sam guesses helplessly.

“Nope.”

Sam knows that, with his nephews’ inability to lie and Sarah’s lifelong history of messing with him as evidence, but it would’ve been a convenient escape from the reality of his sister (and possibly the boys too) addressing Bucky as if he and Sam are together.

“Tell me you told my sister to drop the ‘Uncle.’”

Another thing Sam knows: that Bucky didn’t do that. Bucky seems happy to prove his fears correct; he shrugs.

“Sounded kinda nice,” Bucky defends. That makes Sam soften. He knows Bucky doesn’t have any living family, that he’s been struggling to allow himself to make friends. Maybe he just likes being told he belongs to them and that Sarah’s joke makes it effortless for him. Then, Bucky adds, “Pass me back to my nephews.”

Sam points a warning finger at him.

“Watch it.”

“Yeah, yeah.” The crease between Bucky’s eyebrows deepens as Sam watches the pain in the ass pretend to be stern with him. “Just throw the damn shield. I thought you asked for my help.”

“I did.”

Releasing a cautious sigh, Sam hands the phone to AJ once more. The boy’s got his silliness under control and he accepts the job solemnly.

Sam’s two steps away, hefting the shield onto his arm, when he hears Bucky shout, “And my hand in marriage!”

The boys’ laughter has them rolling on the cool grass, the phone clutched in AJ’s grip, and by the time Sam wrestles it away from his nephew, the camera’s swung all over the place. Showing Bucky the sky, the dirt, some quality footage up AJ’s nose, and probably—almost definitely—the way his words made Sam smile.