#i am able bodied and i dont want to step on anyones toes or hurt anyone's feelings

[brobotsbro]

Ok so cabbage patch Cybertron. Robots grow in the planet crust, pop out, make their way into civilization. But HOW do they know where civilization is? Presumably this is how it works, right?

My theory is that, upon being newly animated, they have some kind of instinctual ability to locate other transformers. Idk maybe it's just a vibration that large groups (as in a city) of them give off when they're all together. Additionally I theorize that this ability must eventually taper off and vanish. They aren't homing pigeons, I don't believe they have this ability in "adulthood."

So this ties into Feral Child Orion in this way: if this signal is built in to every newly-forged Cybertronian, why and how are there bots that end up trapped in the wastes and never make it into town? Surely it's not that uncommon for bots to spawn quite a distance from a city.

Theory: in cases where bots are stranded out in the wilderness (no doubt rare, but I highly doubt Orion is the only one in Cybertronian history) there must be some physical handicap (blindness, ambulatory disability) preventing them from making it to civilization before this homing signal wears off. While I think physical disability upon spawning is not impossible in their society I do think it's probably pretty uncommon (just by virtue of their birth being less weird and chromosomy than human gestation). I further speculate that the odds of being both a) an unusually far distance from civilization and b) physically disabled is low and therefore why the Feral Cybertronian count is not very high.

And basically this is a long explanation for saying that I headcanon that Orion had, like, a club foot or something similar and that is why he was stuck surviving out in the wastes.

I spend too much time speculating on Cybertronian life cycle mechanics. I also like the idea that the eyes of Cybertronian youth glow like cartoon characters in a dark room. Evolutionary crutch to help the young navigate in their journey to civilization?? Idrk, I just think it's a cool idea lol.

[darkthingshappen]

Brother's Keeper

Chapter 9: (Part 1) Anticipation

(For the poll, posting in two parts won, so this is part one of 2 for chapter 8. I'll post part two sometime tomorrow. Enjoy)

Tagging List: @i-can-even-burn-salad @peachy-panic @deluxewhump @arwenadreamer @whumpcereal @melancholy-in-the-morning @dont-touch-my-soup @whumpsday @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @oddsconvert @melennui @susiequaz12 @morning-star-whump (I hope I'm not forgetting anyone - please let me know if I am and I'll fix it. I'm still getting used to this) 

Masterlist

*!*!*!*!* 

Ben’s heart was pounding in his chest. He watched Volkov talking with the others in the low growling Russian he was becoming familiar with, yet still didn’t understand.  He’d just had breakfast and was still on his knees, trembling.  He was so damn scared, and in so much pain.  He could still feel the sting from the needles he’d had to endure two days in a row.  His fingernails still throbbed.  

His teeth chattered while they made him wait, and his muscles spasmed with cold fear.  Volkov had tortured him every day, and Ben had passed out from pain each time.  The sadistic man timed how long he lasted.  Ben was horrified to realize that Volkov was learning his limits so that he could drag out the pain longer. 

The second day with the needles had been far worse because he’d taken it slower, letting Ben have time to breathe and adjust to the new levels of agony.  The session time had nearly doubled, with Ben forced to lay there and listen while Volkov talked Dmitri through how to torture the boy ‘properly.’ 

The low conversation broke up, and the group of abusers returned to stand around Ben.  He kept his eyes on the ground, hoping to hide even  a fraction of his terror.  Dmitri stood behind him and grabbed his hair, forcing him to look up at Volkov.  

The big Russian had a playful gleam in his eye, and Ben knew enough to hate it now.  

“My boys and I were just discussing your options for today.  Dmitri wants to see how you handle an electric baton, but I don’t know if you’re ready for that.  He did point out that you respond well to your collar.”

Ben’s mouth went dry.  “A-a-and my o-other option-options?”

“A caning.  Or maybe knives.  Once you’re mine, I plan on giving you some lovely tattoos and maybe a brand or two.” Volkov ran a possessive hand across Ben’s shoulders.  “People I sell all bear my mark, and you will too, lovely little scholar.”  Volkov sighed wistfully.  “But, to be fair to your brother, I have to give him his time, barring that he doesn’t do anything stupid like rat me out.  It really is too bad.  I hate waiting, but we shall have to.”  He patted Ben’s cheek.  

“I-if… If I pick the cane… will you leave my feet a-alone?”  Ben’s feet were just starting to become less tender.  They still hurt, but no longer throbbed through the night.  

Volkov pursed his lips.  “I might agree to that.  But I want you chained by your wrists.  We’ll let you stand, but you can always pull yourself up if you need to get off your feet for a few moments.  I know they still hurt, but you should be able to put a bit of weight on them now.”

Ben did not agree.  The burns were scabbed over, but still could not take his weight.  Still, maybe he could stand on his toes.  He thought about the shock collar locked around his neck and how agonizing it was when Volkov used it.  

“I don’t… I don’t want to be sh-shocked,” he said out loud, weighing his options.  

Volkov pulled out a knife and let the light reflect off the blade.  “And this option?”

Ben shook his head frantically.  

“So, a caning then?”

“Y-yes.” A full body shudder ran through Ben as he answered.  Volkov grinned maliciously.  

“Excellent choice, Malyshka.”  Volkov’s wicked smile widened.  “I’ll save the baton for the next time you step out of line.”

That did not sound at all promising.  

Volkov brushed Ben’s floppy brown hair out of his face.  “You’ll probably need another shower later today.  Do well with the caning and maybe I’ll let you have some warm water.  Hmm?  Does that sound good?” ��

Ben wanted to scream in fury.  Basic human needs weren’t supposed to be a bargaining chip.  But when he swallowed and felt the collar bob against his Adam’s Apple, he shoved his anger back down.  

“I asked you a question, Little Benjamin,” Volkov threatened.  

“Yes, sir.  Warm water sounds good,” Ben replied, unable to keep the sarcastic edge out of his voice.    

Volkov slapped him hard, and Ben cried out when he landed again on his sore shoulder.  

“Watch your tone with me, boy.  Or we’ll be using that baton sooner than you like!”  

Ben grit his teeth, his eyes narrowing angrily as he looked up at Volkov.  I hate you! He wanted to scream.  His powerlessness was suffocating him.  He sucked in air through his nose as his fury raged beneath the surface.  

Volkov’s hand moved to the pocket where he kept the remote to Ben’s collar.  Ben dropped his head back on to the floor.  Fuck it and fuck Volkov.  If Volkov was going to shock him, then he was going to shock him.  It wasn’t like anything Ben did made a difference.  

“Are you done, Malyshka?” Volkov asked.

Stop calling me that! Ben’s internal rebellion was growing louder, but he knew that would only lead to more pain.  

“Yes, sir.” Ben said evenly, just barely managing to calm his tone.  

“Good. String him up.  I want to see him squirm.”

Ben was pulled up, dragged over to the drain, and deposited on his knees.  There was no bar above him this time, only a hook. 

Dmitri grabbed the short length of chain between Ben’s wrists, which were still behind his back, and started to pull up.  Ben cried out as his shoulders were strained, and his head involuntarily dropped toward the ground.  

“No!  No!  Stop!  Stop stopstopstop!  You’re gonna break my arms!” he screamed as Dmitri kept slowly pulling his arms up behind him.  

“And?” Dmitri quipped nonchalantly.  

“No!  Please!  Stop!” Ben looked over to Volkov.  “Y-you… You said I could pull myself up to get off my feet.  Please!”

“Hold.”  

The steady upward motion stopped at Volkov’s command.  Ben panted and ground his teeth together, waiting for Volkov’s decision.  

“I did, didn't I?  And since I am a man of my word… Dmitri, let his arms down, then rechain them in front.”  Ben gasped with relief as Volkov’s orders were carried out.  “You did look gorgeous just now though.  I think we’ll throw stress positions into the mix for one of your choices soon.  I’d love to see you tremble and sweat as you try to maintain some forced position.”  

God, I fucking hate it here, Ben thought to himself, trying desperately to keep all the shame and frustration of having to submit inside.

His hands shook as the cuffs were undone and refastened in front of him.  Then Ilya and Dmitri yanked him up with brute strength and attached him to the hook above.  Tears sprang into his eyes as his feet brushed the floor.  If he could manage to stay on his tiptoes, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.  

He could already feel the burn in his calves as he made the effort to not stand flat on his sore feet.  He watched Dmitri take the cane off its place on the wall.  Dmitri flexed the thin wooden rod, testing its suppleness.  

Why did they always want to hurt him? Not for the first time, Ben wondered what had he done to deserve this.  The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he really hadn’t done anything.  He didn’t know anything.  He wasn’t being tortured for information.  There was nothing he could do to change this.  He was a pawn in a sadistic game that Volkov was playing.  A game Volkov was winning.  

Volkov sat in his familiar seat, a pleasant smile on his face, drink in his hand.  He nodded to Ilya, and Ben only had a moment to anticipate what was coming before his shirt and bottoms were torn from him, the velcro easily giving way with the slightest exertion.  

The cool air of the room snaked around him, and goose bumps spread across his nearly naked form.  His boxer briefs seemed a highly inadequate cover for the chill and offered no protection from the blows to come.  

The door opened and they all glanced at the newcomer.  Nikolai came in with a new tripod and a different camera.  

“Sorry I’m late, Pahkan.  I just got this new camera in, and I thought we could use it today.”

Damnit!  Ben hated it when they recorded his torment.  

“Good, Nikolai.  Is this the one that you mentioned with the automatic cloud upload feature?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Excellent.  I’m looking forward to that.  Should make the auctions go much smoother.”

“Exactly. And it can do the live feeds too,” Nikolai added with enthusiasm.  

“Perfect.” Volkov’s expression was one of deep satisfaction.  

God!  How much fucking longer are they going to make me wait? Ben’s calves were killing him.  When he glanced over to Volkov, the man was smirking at him, and Ben got the distinct impression that Volkov knew exactly what he was doing.  

Ben wrapped his hands around the chains and pulled himself up slightly.  He could only do it for a minute or so, but he was able to give his calves some relief.  Still, this was going to get exhausting.  

It took Nikolai a few minutes to get the camera set up and in the best location.  Dmitri was growing almost as impatient as Ben.

“Okay.  All ready to go,” Nikolai assured them.

“Excellent.  Benjamin, are you sure you don’t want something to bite down on?” Volkov asked.

“I-I’m s-sure.” The tremors of fear and anticipation were coursing through him anew now.  Out of the corner of his eye he saw Dmitri smile broadly at Volkov’s nod of approval to start.  

“Dmitri, don’t forget what we’ve learned over the last couple of days.  Give the boy room to breathe.  He’s new here,” Volkov reminded him.  

Fucking damnit, just shut the hell up! Ben thought. 

[buckyskorpion]

11 hours - part seven

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Reader

Summary: bucky is the mystery you can’t wait to solve. if you can get out of his bed long enough, that is. a biker au.

Warnings: gang-typical violence, sex scenes, alcohol mentions, probably more to come so stay tuned

A/N: hello i apologise in advance. pls dont hurt me!!! i would appreciate your feedback and your theories about where this fic is going! i hope this part isn’t too..... upsetting lmao. i wont be taking tags for this so please dont ask.

title taken from 11 hours by wet | playlist | please donate to my ko-fi!

masterlist

You believed, until now, that you walked the world seeking out dark corners and underbellies other people didn’t want to touch. That’s your job. The current case you're supposed to be working on involves a man suspected of drugging his girlfriend to take nonconsensual nudes of her and sell them to his friends while she slept. You’re well aware the world is a dangerous place.

But things look different now, in a way you never could have imagined before the Lerna. Those men were dead before you could blink, and you know life is expendable and fragile and so easy to take but it’s another thing to see it taken before your eyes. It’s another thing to take it yourself. And you know, now, why Bucky would only show you parts of his life and himself because this whole truth feels like staring directly into the sun - painfully bright, to the point where it’s all you can see and all the good things are reduced to a spotty, hazy blur.

You’re sitting in your office, at your desk where you’re trying to work but you can’t get the sound of bullet casings hitting the floor and the thunk of a knife in skin out of your head. There, in the centre of your tiny office, was where you sat on Bucky’s lap and kissed him and demanded ‘no secrets.’ Too stubborn to know he was keeping them for a reason, that maybe there are things you don't want to know after all. But you can feel his skin under your fingertips and the brush of his stubble as he kissed you, a memory you can touch, and you can’t help but think it still feels worth it. At the end of it all, if it was a choice of the Lerna happening or never having Bucky at all, you know what you’d chose.

As if he can hear you, your phone buzzes with a text from him. Joey’s at 7?

It’s already 6:30. You’re grabbing your keys and leaving the fear on your desk chair as you text him back. Sounds perfect.

It really is. Joey’s is your favourite bar, and just seeing the grimy neon sign outside makes your heart feel less heavy. This, after everything, remains the same. You still feel giddy jogging down the stairs, ready for the heady bass music to push through your chest and a whiskey apple to numb the wounds. It feels like the beginning, half-nervous half-excited to go find Bucky tucked in a booth at the back, dim purple light chiseling out his cheekbones and catching bright on his sharp smile. Back then it was innocent, if a fuck buddy hook-up could be. Now that you know you would do things for Bucky you’d never do for anyone else, that you don’t think you’ll ever be able to remove his brand from your heart- well. You skip a couple more steps as you head down into Joey’s, only a few minutes late.

You don’t slow down as you enter the bar, weaving through patrons searching for a familiar face. Now that you’re here to the urge to see him, to have him in your arms, is almost unbearable. When you do find Bucky, spinning a glass between his fingers in a nervous habit you’ve noticed he has, he feels your eyes on him immediately. He stands and you crash into him, burying your hands under his leather jacket to feel the warmth of his body against your palms. Bucky hugs you back just as harshly, the force of his embrace lifting your toes off the ground. When he pulls away his runs a hand over your head, down your hair, coming to rest by the side of your neck as if to check your pulse and make sure you’re really there.

“You ok?” he asks, bright blue eyes now dark and hooded as he stares down at you.

You nod, unwilling to let go of your grip on the back of his t-shirt even as he pulls away, and say, “Am now.”

“Need to talk to you, it’s important,” Bucky says. He escapes your grip with ease, because he’s huge and strong and it’s easy to forget that when he softens for you. He sits at the booth and you slide in across him, watching as he downs the rest of the straight whiskey in his glass like its water. That bad feeling is back, like back at Steve’s tattoo shop, but you don’t want it here. You fumble for Bucky’s hand across the table, and he lets you hold it but it doesn’t stop the dread settling heavy in your gut. You squeeze his fingers tighter, just in case.

“Is everything alright?” you ask. “Are we- did the cops find out-“

“No, no,” Bucky says, shaking his head down at the table. His gaze catches on your intwined fingers, the glint of his signet rings in the dim bar light, and says, “The cops aren’t the problem.”

“But there is a problem,” you say, and now Bucky raises his eyes to look at you.

“I need to tell you something, it’s important” Bucky says, again, and the dread rises from your stomach like bile to your throat. “You have to understand this, so you can see that I’m not- that this isn’t just-“

“Bucky.” He lets out a ragged breath as you cut him off mid ramble, scrubs a hand through his hair. You hate the way your voice wobbles when you say, “You’re scaring me.”

You almost make yourself laugh as those words leave your mouth. This scares you? Bucky, frustrated and nervous and clinging to your hand like a lifeline, but when he walked over lifeless bodies he sunk bullets into with a giant rifle on his back - that was just fine.

“You know when we were at Steve’s, and we were talking about Hydra? About Rumlow? Do you remember that?” Bucky asks. He stares at you like he’s imploring you to say it for him, whatever it is he’s struggling to say, but you don’t understand.

You nod slowly and say, “Natasha said Rumlow had it out for you. You said Hydra is your biggest rival.”

“Yes, right,” Bucky says, nodding a bit manically. He’s still gripping your hand tight. “Rumlow hated me, and as far as we can tell - or Nat, I guess, she’s been looking into it - he was acting on his own, to get to me.”

“That’s good, right?” You don’t feel sure, with the way Bucky is acting and looking at you all glassy-eyed. “No big gang war, or whatever.”

“I need you to understand why Rumlow hated me, because it’s not just- it wasn’t just about him, ok?” Bucky says, and now he’s looking around the room like that night in your office. Casing the bar, looking for exits. “He’s dead, but none of this died with him.”

“What is ‘this’?” you ask, and wonder for the first time, do I want to find out?

“The first time I met Rumlow was in the hospital, a couple of days after I got back from Afghanistan,” Bucky says. “I’d been honourably discharged, my arm was all fucked up and fried from a chem bomb and I lost all sensation in it so they sent me home. I remember I was lying in the bed looking out the window, and it was snowing. I hadn’t been anywhere but a desert in so long and I was like, what do I do know? I don’t own a coat anymore. I’m a black ops sniper, that’s not exactly a transferrable skill - can’t even put it on a resume because it’s classified. My arm’s fried and ugly lookin’. I’m fucked.”

“You must’ve been so scared,” you say. Bucky meets your eyes, and you can see it haunting him in the back of them - so much heat and fire and pain left behind, so much cold and unknown and pain lying in front. Your dad has told you a similar story, when he came back from Iraq, and he had the same look in his eyes Bucky does right now.

“I was,” he says, and you squeeze his fingers. He looks towards your hands again and says, “I was, and they knew it.”

“Hydra,” you say, and you know you’re right. Bucky nods anyway.

“Rumlow came into my hospital room and told me, Hydra helps guys like me. They helped him and look - he’s got a job and money and friends and a team again. A purpose. But I said no. I’m black ops, I know shady guys when I seem ‘em and Rumlow reeked of it. Just, Hydra doesn’t like being told no.”

“They target vulnerable, traumatised vets in hospitals?” you ask, disgusted. You can taste the hate that boils up, and that ugly, angry part picturing Bucky lying in a bed so alone and afraid and imagining someone like Rumlow trying to take advantage of him like that - that ugly part says I’m glad he’s dead.

“They’re highly trained and easily moulded,” Bucky says in way of answer, and you shudder at the thought. “But seem Rumlow failed and it was my fault. He failed over and over again every time they sent him to recruit me. So he hated me, and then I started the Commandos with Steve and Sam and Nat to target them. The only way to save the next poor bastard like me from ending up with Hydra is to end them, except there ain't a cop in the city who can touch them.”

“But you can,” you say, and you know it’s stupid but your heart has never been known as terribly smart, so you add, “Bucky, that’s dangerous.”

He smiles, small but it’s there, and he rubs his thumb over your knuckles as he says, “I know, doll. I don’t know if you know this about me, but stupid’s kinda my thing.”

“Very funny,” you say, rolling your eyes at Bucky’s cheeky grin now splitting his face. As quick as it came, though, his smile dies and so does the small spark of hope that maybe this story has a happy ending.

“I’ve made Hydra my enemy and I can’t change that. I don’t want to,” Bucky says, nodding solemnly at his own words and you watch him physically turn cold, stony and distant in the space of a second. “But that means that as long as Hydra is around, they’re going to be coming after me. First Rumlow, but it won’t stop there. They’ll come and keep coming and what if, one time, I don’t get there in time? Or you don’t get to leave your phone on, or even make it to a location before they shoot you in the back of the car?”

“No,” you say. You’re not stupid, you know where this is going and just- no. Bucky is being deliberately harsh, speaking loud and unfiltered to try and make it easier to do what he’s about to do but you won’t let him. That dread turned bile has now turned into straight, acidic fire pumping through veins and it hurts.

Bucky smiles faint and sad, says, “You said it yourself - it’s dangerous no matter what.”

“That's not what I meant,” you say, shaking your head vehemently, wildly, as if you can physically shake Bucky of this stupid idea and the actual pain you’re in just entertaining this conversation. “You know that’s not what I meant, what are- you asked me to stay, Bucky. You asked me, and now you want-“

“I know, I know,” Bucky says,  tugging your hand close to him now but it’s your turn to try and pull away, albeit unsuccessfully. “I know and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but you almost died. Do you understand that? They would have killed you, and the only reason is me.”  

“That’s such bullshit,” you say, trying and failing to pull your hand free of his grip but he isn’t letting go now and the death-grip he has on you, tethering you to him even as he pushes you away, makes your eyes sting with ugly tears.

“It’s not,” Bucky says, so sad, and you just want to kiss that guilt away for him even still, even as your heart is breaking under his fist. “You will always be in danger until the day comes where I can’t protect you, and I won’t do that to you. I can’t, I can’t be the reason you get hurt.”

“You can’t protect me if you’re not around,” you say, so soft you can barely be heard over Joey’s house music but honestly, you might as well be completely alone for how little you care about the bar around you.

“The safest place for you is away from me,” Bucky says, and that makes you laugh. Humourless, fucking painfully, but you laugh and Bucky glares so dark you’re reminded of the look in his eyes when he stared down at Rumlow’s body bleeding out on the ground. Through gritted teeth he says, “You think I would do this if there was any other way?”

“There is another way,” you say, glaring right back. “There’s not being a coward about it, Bucky. You lead a dangerous life, I get it. Believe me, I fucking get it, and I chose to stay. Ok? I wanna be here anyway, so why does my choice not matter to you? Is this some stupid excuse to get rid of me?”

“Don’t say that,” Bucky all but growls, and you should be scared. He’s scary, Bucky is dangerous by his own admission but you refuse to be afraid of him. Even when he’s trying to force you to be, holding your hand too tight and dragging you around the booth so he can pin you to the seat and you both know the only way you can move is if he lets you. As if he thinks he can scare you away from him, if he can’t reason you to go.

“I don’t care how dangerous it is,” you say into his seething face, inches from yours, teeth bared in a truly terrifying snarl as he pins you to the leather in a show of strength that will leave bruises tomorrow. “I don’t wanna be away from you.”

For half a moment, you really think Bucky is going to hit you. He moves so fast, and you’ve never seen his face look like that - hurt and angry and upset and half-insane all at once. But he just presses his forehead to yours, closes his eyes and breathes you in, and for another half a moment you get to think, maybe he’ll change his mind.

“You’re all I want,” Bucky breathes, so soft and quiet you almost don’t hear him if it wasn’t said almost directly into your skin. “But that’s selfish.”

“I don’t care,” you say, like a mantra now, or a prayer. Just hoping he’ll hear you, “I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care.”

“You should,” Bucky says, and pulls away from you just as fast as he came in. “I won’t be the reason you end up dead.”

Bucky sits before you like a solid brick wall - unbreakable, immovable, cold and blank. His eyes are shuttered from you and you know there’s no way to get to him now. There’s nothing else you can say. If you aren’t enough for him to push past his fear and love you anyway, nothing you say is going to change his mind. Just because you know it’s true doesn’t mean it hurts any less, though, as you sit there boxed in by this menacing stranger looking at you in a way you never want to be looked at again. Like he already doesn’t know you. Like you’ve already been forgotten.

“This was always gonna happen, wasn’t it?” you ask, more to yourself than to Bucky. You laugh at his silence, the flat set of his mouth and clenched fists on his thighs. Maybe if you never went to that first party at Natasha’s house and remained at arms length, sneaking out his window and never staying the night, then maybe you could’ve had him just a little bit longer. But you didn’t, and now you’re hurt in a way you’ve never been before. Your dad never prepared you to survive a pain like this.

You slide out the other side of the booth, tripping slightly as you climb to unsteady feet. It’s hard to see through unshed tears but you don’t bother looking back at Bucky still sat in the booth. You weave through people just as fast as when you came in, but for the opposite reason now - you can’t leave behind this dim-lit bar painted with the gorey tatters of your heart fast enough.

When you emerge onto the street you know Bucky has followed you, his hulking presence palpable behind you as you stand on the sidewalk and try and calm your rapid heartbeat. You’re surprised its still beating with how much it hurts, especially when Bucky places a hand on your shoulder and cracks your heart neatly in two. He says, softly under New York traffic, “Let me drive you home. Please.”

Instead of asking why, why does he care, why does he want to, if the safest place is away from you then leave me alone, what you say is a mildly whiny, “You don’t know where I live.”

“I’ll put the address in my phone,” Bucky says, calm and low as if to placate you but you’re well past that point now. You’re crying openly on the street like a lunatic as Bucky gently takes your hand and leads you towards his bike, manhandles you onto it, clicks a helmet on over your head. It feels cruel for him to be this soft after so ruthlessly tearing you apart, but you suppose it’s better than being left alone in the street like he never cared at all.

When you pull up to your apartment building Bucky kills the engine and leans in close to you before you have a chance to jump off and run away. You think, surely he’s not about to kiss me right now and you really hate the part of you that hopes he does, but he doesn’t. He just leans in close and whispers into your helmet, “They could be watching your place, after what happened. I’m so sorry.”

You close your eyes. Bucky’s right, this will never stop, but that doesn’t mean you want to face it alone. Your whole life has been carved out for you only, but just once you thought maybe you could live it with someone else. That’s not a life for you to have, it seems, so you take a deep breath through snotty tears and nod, say, “I can handle it,” because you know you can. You’ll have to.

“I think-“ Bucky starts but falters, bites his lip blanched white before continuing, “They might leave you alone if you make it clear I’m not in your life anymore.”

“You can’t ask me to do that,” you say, and all the resolve you just gathered is shattered as instantly as you found it. You’re crying again because fuck, nothing has ever hurt like this has, from the inside where you can’t find it or heal it or stop it so it just sucks the life out of you one painful second at a time.

“You have to, honey,” Bucky says, and you want to punch him for it. The way he talks to you like he loves you, like he cares, but he can’t if he’s making you do this. Break your own heart to save his. “Scream at me, send me away. They won’t need to target you then.”

“You’re cruel,” you say, pulling away from him. You don’t want to touch him anymore, can’t stand to be this close so you trip off the bike and stumble down the street. Bucky stares after you, his own eyes teary and face screwed up in genuine pain. It could never compare to the sick feelings in your stomach as you take a deep breath and scream, “Go away, Bucky. Fucking leave me alone and never come back or I’ll fucking kill you, you hear me? Fuck off, and don’t come back.”

You can’t help the sob that rips from you, threatening to buckle your knees and break you right on the sidewalk. Bucky is looking at you like you’ve just stuck a knife in his chest but he asked you to, he keeps asking and taking and it’s always you that ends up hurt. You leave him on the street, stumble up the stairs to your apartment and sink to the floor as soon as the door clicks shut behind you. It’s dark in your apartment, nothing but streetlights outside casting shadows on furniture he never touched, but it still feels like he’s haunting you just the same.

Bucky’s bike revs to life and he tears away, the sound ripping straight through and down the street. It leaves you hollowed out, a burnt-through husk curled up on your hardwood floor. You know you’ll never hear that sound again.

****

For your entire life it’s always been you against the world. The only person you could ever trust is yourself, the only one who’s going to look out for you is you and you can’t remember a time where you didn’t think this way. Maybe it’s nature, maybe it’s nurture, but it’s how you’ve always seen the world.

However, you’re only now starting to feel what being truly alone is actually like.

Bucky’s contact lies open on your phone, but you don’t press call. You won’t. He pushed you away for your own ‘safety,’ for his own fear, and you’ll have to learn to live with his choice. Even though you still love him and always will, you can’t have him and you’ll just have to be ok with that. So you leave this contact photo up on your phone, resting on your coffee table beside your open laptop. You’ve got the input feed of the bug you planted in your dad’s kitchen open, chunky headphones on, scrolling through the audio from the past few days since you’d last seen him.

Your heart is broken by the first man you’ve ever let into your life and the only other person who knows you and who you trust, you’re currently spying on. Now, for the first time, you truly have no one left.

Focusing on work has always been an escape for you, and even when your life is in pieces around you and your heart looks no different, work still pulls through. Even if that work is your own father and the inane conversations he has with himself about the baseball teams on TV, or the calls he makes to his vet friends, or the late-night renditions of ABBA songs you remember well from your childhood. A file lies open on your coffee table with your father’s name on it and pages of notes you’ve made from nearly one hundred hours of audio recordings. You hope beyond hope that you’re just paranoid, and that this time when you go digging you don’t find anything at all.

The only thing you’ve noticed so far is your dad makes a lot of phone calls. They’re long, with a lot of names thrown around you don’t recognise as being his friends or anyone from work he’s mentioned to you before. You write them all down to look up later, but you’ve got to go meet a client so you shut everything down and collect your notes in the file. You hide them, just in case, and grab your leather jacket before you leave. You still have rent to pay. The world goes on around you despite everything being turned upside down, almost as if Bucky never happened at all.

You leave via the back of the building, to come out onto the street closest to the subway station. Usually smokers hang out around there so you aren’t surprised to see two men leaning against the wall, but you are surprised when they star following you down the alley. At this point you’re an old hand at being followed, and the petty part of you brain thinks in Bucky’s direction, see? Doesn’t matter if you’re here or not, dumbass. You sigh to yourself and plan to give them the run around once you clear the alley, but you don’t get a chance to.

From behind you hear a couple of solid thunks, a groan, a muttered curse from one of the men and then one final thunk before silence. You turn around, half afraid of who you’re going to meet once you do and half annoyed because you think you might know who it is. Sure enough, standing there in her leather jacket and a rusted metal pipe from the dumpster in her grip, is Natasha.

She blows a stray strand of hair out of her face and says, “Fancy seeing you here.”

“So he’ll break up with me but will still have me followed,” you say, folding your arms over your chest. Natasha shrugs and you mutter, “Figures.”

“I am always the first to say James is an idiot,” Natasha says, twirling the pipe like a baton in her delicate hands. She grins at you and says, “James is an idiot.”

“I’m aware,” you grit out, glaring at the red-head. “What are you doing here?”

“Making sure you don’t end up as Hydra mince-meat,” Natasha says, “What does it look like?”

“Doing whatever Bucky says even when it’s stupid,” you say. Natasha doesn’t like that, her bright grin dropping into a scowl as she steps up to you. Small, but with a clearly lethal weapon in her hands if the unconscious bodies behind her are anything to go by, she jabs the tip of the pipe into your chest and forces you a step backwards.

“James always has good intentions, even if his logic is sometimes flawed.” She drops the pipe, letting it clang to the floor between you as if to punctuate her saying, “Besides, James didn't tell me to do anything. I volunteered.”

“Why?” you ask, sneering slightly. “I think we both know you don’t trust me, or like me, and you make it very hard to like you.”

Natasha smiles at that, and you hate the face she makes every time you say something she ‘approves’ of - condescending, like she doesn’t expect you to have brain cells and is surprised every time you do. She says, very solemn despite the smile in her eyes, “I owe you.”

That makes you pause. Instantly, like you’re right back in that bar. You can see her groaning body struggling to stand after being thrown into a wall. Rumlow pointing a gun at her back, the blood-thirst emanating off him in waves. Your own hand, as if detached from your body, flinging the knife across the room into his neck before he can put a bullet in Natasha’s.

You swallow thickly, shake your head and say, “No you don’t.”

“I do,” she insists. She steps forward with her hand out, beckoning her fingers like she wants you to hand her something. You just stare at her empty palm for a few seconds before she clicks her tongue and says, “Phone.”

You hand it over without thinking, which was definitely stupid. But Natasha just types away quickly before giving it back and you see you have a new contact with her name attached entered into your phone.

“If you ever need anything,” she says, and taps your phone screen with her nail, “call me.”

It was only minutes ago you were sitting on your couch scrolling through audio from your tapped father’s kitchen thinking you’ve never been more alone in your life. Yet here you are, looking at a helping hand outstretched from the last person you expected it to come from. Your fingers shake slightly as you tuck your phone into your back pocket, and Natasha smiles at you like she understands.

“Thank you,” you say, and you hope she knows you genuinely do mean it.

Natasha nods, then says, “Get out of here, alright? I have to clean this up.”

You suppose that’s Natasha speak for ‘your welcome,’ so you leave her to it. The whole client meeting you can’t focus properly, too busy trying to decide if you feel safer or more afraid at having one of the scariest women you know watching your apartment. By the end of the day, your conclusion is that if Natasha is going to be in your life, its probably best she’s on your side rather than against it.

When you get home that afternoon there is no sign of the two guys Natasha knocked out, nor is she anywhere to be seen. You can’t help but feel watched, though, as you enter your building and climb the stairs. She’s a busy woman and you know she can’t be watching you all the time but you still feel her green eyes on the back of your neck - its not an altogether uncomfortable sensation. That’s something to unpack later, you think, as you collapse on the couch.

You try to resist, but as soon as you sit down and close your eyes the urge to forget about the case you’ve just taken on and look into your own hunches grows too strong. You get up again and fish out your dad’s file again from your hiding place, bringing it back to the couch to flip open. The list of names you’ve been compiling is at the top, scribbled in messy handwriting as you listened to your dad’s one-sided conversations. You tallied up how many times the same name had been mentioned and in what context, however it had been hard to decipher what your dad was talking about with only half the story.

You decide to go looking into the most mentioned name - more of a title, really. Somebody your dad calls Chief shows up in almost every single conversation he has over the phone, and when you were going through the audio it dredged up some strange, suppressed childhood memory. You used to hear him talking to guys downstairs when you were doing your homework, and you always thought he called them ‘chief’ as a nickname or weird, macho term of endearment like how kids in your class would call each other ‘bro’.

Maybe, he was only talking to one guy. You were going to find out.

Starting at your dad’s job, you scroll through their website and LinkedIn profiles to find any link to the name ‘Chief.’ He works as a security guard for a chain of clubs in the city so you are doubtful, and sure enough nothing really comes up to peak your interest. Your dad really only has one other major outlet to look into and that’s the VA, so you have to swallow past the dirty feeling of investigating suffering vets and start scrolling through the website for the Brooklyn VA group attached to the medical centre.

It’s all wholesome stuff and nothing of interest to your snooping at all until you get to a photo gallery from four years ago. It’s dedicated to commemorating the Brooklyn VA and New York Police Department workshop day promoting mental health for vets and servicemen. There are a bunch of photos of group activities and the lunch put on by the VA, and you spot your dad in a couple of them. You’re about to click off when you find one where your dad is posed with another vet and a very official, very dressed up cop. Nothing you haven’t seen at least forty of before in this gallery, but it’s the caption which makes you pause.

It reads, Some of the Brooklyn VA’s finest with NY Chief of Police. It has to be a coincidence, the man’s job title and nothing more. He’s tall, broad, with sandy blonde hair turning grey under his police hat. There are more medals than you can count pinned to his uniform and even in this grainy photo you can tell he would squash your dad like an ant if he gave the Chief of Police a reason to. You’ve never paid attention to this before, steering clear of cops whenever you can, but you find yourself googling him as soon as you can pull yourself away from his mile-long stare.

As soon as the NYPD profile on the Chief of Police loads, your blood turns to ice. You want to say you’re crazy, you’re crazy, you’re paranoid, but name one time your paranoia had led you wrong? Two strange coincidences don’t happen back to back, no matter how disconnected they may appear. Two worlds you never thought you would know, let alone be watching them collide, stare up at you from your computer screen. You can hear Steve’s voice like he’s sitting right next to you, saying “It is strange we haven’t heard anything from Pierce,” and right under a professional portrait of the Chief of Police is his name burning into the back of your eyelids - Alexander Pierce.

You shove your laptop onto the coffee table and stand, pacing back and forth in front of your couch. Scraping a hand through your hair and pulling half of it out of your head in the process, you try to reason your way out of connecting these dots. They’re barely dots, their echoes of dots - so your dad took a photo with the Chief of Police four years ago and he refers to someone he knows as ‘Chief’ as a nickname and Steve mentioned Pierce was someone in Hydra and the Chief of Police happened to be named Alexander Pierce. So what, right?

“Ok, ok, ok, ok,” you say to yourself, rushed and manic. You’ll just ask your dad. He’s your dad, he was never supposed to hide anything from you so why would he start now? If you just ask he might-

You don’t get to finish your thought. Three loud knocks ring through your empty apartment, your doorbell chiming impatiently straight afterwards. You stare at the door with your heart in your throat, long enough for them to ring the doorbell again and a loud, male voice to call out your full name. Someone you don’t recognise, yet they know where you live. You approach the door on silent feet and look through the peephole, reaching for the baseball bat you keep behind a pot plant as you do.

Standing outside are two men in suits, one of whom is looming at the peephole and making stupid faces while his college rolls his eyes and attempts to hold him back. Through the door, you ask, “Who is it? What department are you with?”

“I’m Special Detective James Rhodes and this is my partner, Special Detective Tony Stark,” the unimpressed cop says, elbowing his colleague out of the way who is still trying to look through the wrong side of the peephole. Holding up a badge and gesturing for his partner to do the same, Detective Rhodes says, “We’re with the FBI, ma’am.”

“Shit,” you say, before realising you said that out loud. Your hand feels numb where you grip your baseball bat tightly, and you decide in that moment you have to be dreaming. No way has the events of the past fifteen minutes taken place.

The guy who must be Detective Stark laughs and says, “Shit is right. Let us in, ma’am, we need to ask you some questions.”

You look back at the coffee table laden with copious notes on your father and your open laptop, Chief of Police Alexander Pierce’s face staring back at you. An omen, you think, but it would be even more suspicious if you asked them to wait to clean everything up. Your heart-stopping, life-changing, maybe-discovery will have to wait.

You slide off the chain and unlock your deadbolt, opening the door for the two FBI agents. They walk in without another word, and it really hits you then. It doesn’t matter what Bucky does now, if he leaves you and never comes back or if he never left at all - you’re in this, now. And now you’ll pay the price.

[rawmeknockout]

Sumn nsfw w/ the combaticons and their little human friend

Together or separate idc these dudes dont get enough love and Im a sucker for these war criminals 🙈🙈🙈

//okay i dont know much about them and ive never written them but i do intensely love blast off so,,, ill do it, for you

not as nsfw as you probably wanted but there’s so many mechs i am having a hard time making this particular plot move//

“Hands off, mech! I’ll kick your teeth in.” Your legs kick and squirm, hitting living metal. It’s too warm. Everything is much too warm.

“Aren’t you cute?” The smarmy gold mech coos over you sickeningly, condescendingly, with sharp eyes and blunt fingers prodding at your soft stomach. You hate being carried by mechs, you only let your Autobot friends do it occasionally, and the way this one looks at you like a piece of meat has your stomach turning, “You’re going to make me a lot of money, fleshling.”

He carries you like a chicklet, cupped in one hand and close to his chest. Almost too protectively and certainly much too warm for comfort. If he wasn’t keeping his fingers so curled, you might attempt to jump out of his hand.

“Did you get the human, Swindle?” You hear heavy steps before you see them come into view. Another mech, much taller with red visor a clear warning sign. There isn’t a hint of a face, like he’s wearing a full-face mask. You figure that’s the point, but it could also just be the way his face was constructed, “You can have it for whatever you want when our plan is done, but keep it in that human cage until then.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Swindle’s bright eye lights roll, at least you assume that’s a thing mechs can do, as he drops you in a shitty glass container. What the fuck? Are you a gross tarantula to them? Some lizard to be placed in a dirty terrarium until you died from neglect and poor heating?

He answers your question by tapping the glass and cooing over you once more, talking about shanix and clients who would love to meet you. Cons, you assume. Hopefully your friends will be able to rescue you before you end up in some gross mech’s pocket. You don’t even want to think about the alternative where you’re a different ‘kind’ of pet.

“Did you get the fleshy?” A brightly-colored con bounces over to look you up and down. Once again, you can’t make out a distinctive face. It’s giving you a very... foreboding feeling. You can’t recognize a lot of Decepticon enemies, aside from the one’s you’ve dealt with first-hand, but the fact their faces are so hidden can’t mean anything good. It makes you wonder why they don’t all bother to share a similar color scheme. “It’s so cute! In a gross way. Onslaught, I want it when we’re done.”

“Don’t call me gross, dirt bag!” You kick the glass wall, but it just ends up hurting your toes through your worn-in sneakers.

Swindle shoves his arm in front of the mech, physically barring him from getting closer to your ‘cage’, “This is future inventory! No touching.”

You hear a sigh from Onslaught, not looking up from a highly-technical looking device. Of everything you’ve had happen, that sigh just gets on your nerves the most. Like you’re a burden or a nuisance. Something troublesome to be dealt with.

“Hey, hey!” The teal-headed mech leans his chest on Swindle’s arm, effectively keeling forward to put his face right up to your cell, “I saw on the television that human’s have this weird, fleshy interface cable,”

He sticks a finger out and wiggles it like a worm, as if that is what’s going to prove his point effectively, “Show me yours! I wanna see it up close.”

You feel your face contort in horror, body leaning away unconsciously. Not that there’s anywhere to even go. Is he implying... Does he think you’ll show him... Swindle attempts to shove the new mech away as he reaches into your container, intent on getting the show he wants. These are your best pants! You dodge his hand as best you can until he’s pulled away by Swindle.

“I called first dibs before we even got the human!” This voice comes from someone you can’t see passed the two mechs huddled around your cell. In fact, you don’t want to see anyone else. You wish they would throw a dark sheet over your cage and leave you be.

“Get your own, Brawl, this one’s mine,” The teal mech laughs despite the firmness of his tone. It sends a shiver down your spine. Whatever happens, you don’t want to be alone in a room with that one. He seems... Off. And you’re not exactly enthusiastic about being made to strip for him.

Vortex and Swindle turn their attentions to the newcomer, giving you a moments reprieve. You were going to develop a complex having so many eyes on you all at once. Attention was always something you found hard to cope with. You’re so busy steadying your breathing that you miss a new accoster moving to pluck your cage up. You stumble around in your cage as he moves you, hands flat on the cool glass.

“Since all of you are thoroughly incompetent and untrustworthy,” This new one is haughty and mean, “I’m going to take care of the human until we can dispose of it properly. Don’t bother me about seeing it until we don’t need this thing anymore.”

Thank god.

[viltrumitesuperboy]

Luck (Peter Parker x Male Villain Reader)

my line breaks wont FUCKING WORK TUMBLR IS TRASH

Luck is a superpower, you can disagree (respectfully) in my asks. I don’t know how to write “villain” villains, especially for the reader, so you’ll notice that I tend to give the villains a motivation for their actions. They’re typically redeemable.

Requested by: anon since requests are open and i like your writing, id thought id request something. perhaps you can do a spidey x villian reader where the reader and peter are dating but dont know about the others alter ego? 

Word count: 2265

"Peter, where's the black pepper?"

"Top shelf!"

You opened the cabinet looking up at the black pepper just barely out of your reach. Even on your toes, your fingers barely brushed the wooden shelf. Turning quickly to check if Peter was still in his room, you extended your arm just a bit and managed to pluck the little container off of the shelf.

"Are you almost done with lunch? You know we have to go to the city today," Peter said, walking into the kitchen.

He was just pulling his sweater down when you turned to look at him, a smile on both your faces.

"Yeah, just salt and pepper for taste. You know how spices work, right?" you joked.

He laughed and hugged your middle from behind, pulling away to grab the plates from under you and bringing them to the table. He started eating right away, his plate always just a little more filled than yours.

"Even now I'm always surprised because I already eat a lot. I don't know where all of that goes," you commented, gesturing to his body.

"My ass," he mumbled through a bite.

You laughed around your own food as he shrugged. Once you both finished, you did your normal elevator vs. staircase race. You had the staircase this time, and you were alone. So if he didn't see you somehow hop down entire flights of stairs without any injury, all was well. You tried to lean against the wall like you had been waiting for him forever, and laughed when he blew a raspberry in your direction.

"Come on, we gotta catch the train," he urged.

He pulled you along until you got outside, both of you walking side by side to the station. The train ride always felt shorter with him, and he got off a stop or two earlier than you did every time. Even with your own extracurricular activities, you wondered if you would ever get to know what he did. You brushed it from your mind. If he knew what you got up to, he'd be upset. He was a huge supporter of the Avengers and similar "hero" figures, and even worked with and for them. You had to engage in crime just to get by. As you entered the building, you looked at the Avengers Tower a few blocks down. You turned away.

---

The sooner you got into your suit, the sooner you could join your companions in robbing the next bank. You knew whoever made the plans would get the most money, so you always planned things before anyone else could think of them. Without it, you wouldn't even be able to pay for groceries. Everyone else had a job, but you were younger and still in school, which made it much more difficult for you and they all understood. Despite the luck you knew you had, life was the one thing that could bring it down.

Just as you all left with bags, you stopped instantly at the sight of Spider-Man leaning against the wall awkwardly, much like you had done earlier that day. You almost laughed, but you had to leave with the money so you kept a straight face.

"So, uh... you guys ever think about the law? It's pretty cool sometimes," he said with an obviously faked confidence.

You pushed the bags towards your team and ushered them to move, swiftly moving towards Spider-Man. He darted to the side as you kicked toward him.

"Missed m- Oof!"

As he tried jumping for the ceiling, you grabbed the back of his suit and yanked him down, thanks to your luck. It left him winded for a few seconds.

"Sorry, dude. Just let me off this once," you said unapologetically.

He groaned as you ran back towards your team, two of them grabbing you into the moving van. The doors shut and you watched Spider-Man through the darkened window, just barely catching a glimpse of your vehicle as it sped away.

"Well, that was fast. Maybe you're right about your luck being a power," one of them snickered.

You hit her with a grumble, turning down to check your phone. A text from Peter said he needed snuggles, and you smiled a bit as you pulled your mask off.

"Is it that kid you're dating again?" she asked, pulling her own off.

"Yeah, drop me off in the area. Leave the money in the usual place and I'll come grab it," you said, beginning to pack your things.

"You got it."

"Thanks."

As you left the van, you waved at them, giving some of them a fist bump as you passed and hopped out of the van.

"I'll figure out our next location."

They waved back and you turned as the van doors shut. You went into the dark alley nearby to change, then walked the few blocks to Peter's apartment. Aunt May greeted you with a hug and a smile, then gestured you Peter who was curled up in a blanket in front of the TV, looking like he stayed up all night despite it only being nine at night.

"What's up?" you asked, sitting next to him and putting your arms around him.

"I feel like garbage and my body hurts," he mumbled into your shoulder.

"Exercising? Did you... fall down the stairs? Stand up after too many hours of playing video games?"

He snorted and pulled away for a bit, wrapping you in the blanket as well. You both laid down, and you took extra care to wrap your arms around his shoulders when he seemed to wince at the movement of his back.

"What exercise did you do?"

"No, I just... I decided to go to the playground with Ned cause there were no more kids there and my internship was done, so I was fooling around and climbing things but I fell on my back."

"Be a bit more careful next time?"

"Okay."

Aunt May was always nice enough to leave you food knowing when you didn't eat. You smiled at her as Peter moved closer to you when you pulled away to eat, and you both laughed fondly at his clingy behaviour. You left a few hours after that to get your money and go home.

---

After another afternoon of your antics, you had decided to run around on the rooftops for a bit. On one of the higher ones, you climbed the ladder quietly to find someone pacing on the edge. You almost reached out to tell them to step away when you realised who it was: Spider-Man himself.

"How does he always get away? And he beats me so quickly? It's like he has really good luck. That's so weird. That's not even a superpower, I think. Oh no, what if it is?!"

He paused as there was a response from his phone, and he sighed as if stressed as he yanked off his mask. You quickly covered your mouth in shock. How careless could any identity-hiding person be to pull their mask off when anyone in a building could look up and see him? At least your face was kind of covered. It was just your hood on and that lame mask that just covered the area around your eyes, but it was enough. His face was covered by his phone, but the messy brown hair made you a little sick when it reminded you of your boyfriend. You were only here because of your luck and your criminal actions. He was probably at his internship being a good, upstanding citizen.

"No, that can't be right. I'll check with Mr. Stark. He'll know."

"Hey."

He screeched and yelled a quick bye into his phone, making the horrible mistake of just shoving it in his pocket as he turned to look at you. Without his mask on.

"Put your mask on," you said, knowing it sounded a bit strangled, but you passed it off as just climbing over the small concrete wall that bordered the top of the building. "You should be more careful, you know?"

"You-you're that guy! I keep running into you! Who are you?"

"Well, that's the question everyone wants to know, huh?"

You walked over to him and plopped down next to him as he sat, his hands playing with his phone that was now back out. Peter did that when he was nervous, playing with anything in his hands. Once it was a book and he somehow managed to throw it and leave a small crack in the ceiling when someone scared him from behind.

"Tell me your secrets. What's got you so stressed about me?"

"What are your powers?" he blurted out.

How Peter of him to just ask right away.

"I'm lucky. Just not lucky in the rest of my life. I don't have enough money to pay rent and sometimes it's not even enough to buy groceries. I have to depend on other people and I don't want to do that. So I'm doing the best with what I can."

"Well, M- uh, Tony Stark has all kinds of internships and charities and stuff. I mean, I work with him so I would know. He could help! And he's always willing to help a superpowered person!"

"Spidey, things aren't that easy. I'm a criminal for a living and things like that don't just slide with most of the population. You tell them why you did it and you'll get consequences. My luck is the only thing keeping my team and myself safe."

"You could try! He doesn't judge and he's still friends with Captain America, who's currently a war criminal. Someone who's a thief isn't a huge problem to him."

"I don't take charity," you stated clearly.

"I mean it! He could really help," he replied.

"Peter!"

He paused entirely. Without the sounds of the cars below and the people speaking, it would have been completely silent.

"How... how..."

You pulled off your mask and your hood, giving him a sympathetic smile.

"I don't... take charity. Especially not from my boyfriend. I'll let you feed me once in a while, but that's the most I'll take. I can't do that to you, and I can't do that to your mentor who has definitely figured out my powers and knows who I am."

He was silent as you put the mask in his hand and stood up.

"You can text me whenever you want."

You left him behind on the roof.

Peter texted you the next morning, telling you to meet him at Stark Tower. You instantly knew that he had talked to Tony Stark about it, and both of them would search the entire world for you if you didn't go. Of course, that left you with the only choice of doing what he said. Peter was waiting for you in the lobby right in front of the building's security.

"Hey! Um, just follow me," Peter said quietly, his voice dying out as he turned to walk.

After an awkwardly silent trip in one of the elevators, he brought you to a large laboratory where sparks flew from the corner of the room.

"Mr. Stark! I brought my boyfriend for you to meet," Peter shouted over the noise.

Tony Stark himself sat up from his work to look at the both of you, his goggles now on his head.

"Tell me about yourself," he said, starting to walk towards you.

"You already know enough about me, don't you?" you replied.

He gave you a calculating look as he turned to a desk and pulled up a hologram. It contained information about you and your powers, but mostly your financial assets.

"I don't normally keep tabs on petty thieves, but when I found out how much you were annoying Peter, I had to find out," he said. "Kind of weird to be fighting your boyfriend every other night, huh?"

Peter looked away, his eyes instantly going to your arm. You knew he was fighting a blush, but you were busy hiding your own embarrassment. Tony started to push Peter out of the room, and he grumbled but left regardless.

"I saw his recording from his suit. I know you don't take charity, but I would do anything for Peter. All he wants is to know that you're safe from anyone who could be a threat to him or the people he cares about. How can you be safe if you can't even pay your bills?" Tony lectured. "The least you can do is stay here for a bit until you have enough money to stay at your own place. He already worries about being Spider-Man. He doesn't need to worry about you having nowhere to stay."

You stood for a moment, looking between him and the hologram.

"Fine. But for Peter. And the second I get a well-paying job I'm out of here."

"Well, you could always work here. We have great benefits."

"And work for Tony Stark? No way."

He barked out a laugh and opened the door again, Peter rushing in to grab your hand.

"What did you say?!"

"I said yes. Quit worrying," you laughed, kissing him quickly.

Tony tapped on a few things on the screen before turning to look at you both.

"Your stuff is being moved here within the next one or two days, and I let your landlord know. He's actually kind of cool. Oh, and after we move your stuff here, can we test your powers?" Tony rambled.

"No."

"Great, we'll start tomorrow."

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Life After Snowpiercer: One Problem at a Time

Summary- Curtis x Y/N. You and Curtis reunite, deal with some issues in the valley and reconnect 2 of the groups. Tension between you and Curtis. Warnings- Violence

Word Count- 5.3k

Chapter 6 / Masterlist

The firing from above was surprising, You and Johanna witnessed Wilfords old guard squad shout out in alarm and close ranks retreating. Johanna lowered the rifle, and breathed out hard enough to flip the hair that fell in her eyes back. “I dont know who it is... but they are pushing them back.” You sneak a peek out to see if you can catch sight of anyone, but thats when you hear the cry of alarm behind you, and you pull back, disappearing inside. Following your name being cried out, you see where someone got a ricochet. It had luckily lost some of its momentum, but still embedded enough to cause blood to blossom all over there shoulder and clutch at it to stop the bleeding. 

“Shit” You try to drag the man into the nearest light without making yourselves possible targets. “Shirt off... Whats your name?” You ask as you maneuver him, grabbing the hem of his shirt and start to pull it over his head. 

He grunted as you lifted the shirt over his head. “Mickey... we was trying to get the kids into the back once we heard the firing started, but not fast enough apparently.” His eyes watered a bit, but other then that, he stayed perfectly still. 

“Yea it got pretty dicey there for a bit. Does anyone have a knife?” You start hold out your hand till someone shoves a military grade blade into it and you start cutting off pieces of clothing off one of his shirts, and directing him to sit down, so you at least didnt have to go to your tip toes to dig out the shard. “Okay Mickey, Im gonna be as quick as I can, promise. Just please dont move.” 

“No worries Miss, I can handle it.” He took a deep breath and nodded in affirmation that he was ready. Lets get this done, you coached yourself, never actually having removed anything like this. Your head tilted and the tip of your tongue stuck out as you started to use the tip to wedge along one side. Mickey was true to his word and stayed still, allowing you to dig further into his flesh till THERE, the tip slid underneath and you could pop it out “Got it!” 

Wadding the piece of cloth against the seeping wound, you are careful not to touch anything as his blood was all over your hands. “Be right back, keep the pressure on it.” John stepped in to monitor him as you make your way back to Johanna who was looking through the scope up at the cliff. “Son of a bitch, hes gonna do it....” 

“Safe to go out and scrub my hands you think, and do what?” You question as you look over her shoulder, and Johanna drops the scope to look without the assistance to the top of the cliff. “This bastard, hes gonna jump down., OH HELL THERE HE GOES!” This is when you lean out and your jaw drops. 

Curtis pulled back the rifle when he thought he saw you, holding his breath, hoping for another glance, anything to confirm it was you he saw. Rolling away from the edge, and up to his feet, he paced the edge for a moment. “I gotta get down there now, do we have any rope?” He asked the person closest to him, the man shaking his head and asking another nearby. Resounding negatives sounded, and Curtis just didnt have the time to search the train cars for any. Looking over the edge, he studied the way down, noticing small juts of ice build up on what he guessed were ledges, he formed an idea. Was it crazy? Most likely, but what the fuck. Sliding the rifle strap over his shoulder, he held it out to anyone close by. “Give me an axe, Im gonna need you all to cover me while I make my way to the train car.” 

The man whom he had asked for rope earlier looked down the side as if studying what Curtis had been looking at, frowning for a moment in thought, then his eyes widened. “Man you cant.” 

Curtis didnt even pause as he hefted the axe, checking it was one with the sharper blades, and swung it around in a loop once, twice, three times to loosen his good arm. “Man I am.” 

“Thats could be a damn suicide jump. Your gonna break your legs, even with the deeper snow at the bottom, you have no clue whats down there!.” 

Curtis shifted to the edge, turning his body so that his good side holding the axe would be close to the cliff wall. “Yea well, I might not know what, but I know who is down there, and who knows when those fuckers will be back.” 

CURTIS EVERETT, I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DIE, YOU AND ME BUDDY, WERE THROUGH. 

No were not, and I will be fine, trust me. 

Trust you? Fucken hell Curtis your lucky I do. 

Thats my girl. 

And it seemed like he just stepped off the edge, plunging the axe into the snow and ice on the side, it slowed him down slightly in his descent, and he was able to steer himself enough to land on the ledge he was aiming for. For all of five seconds. 

It gave out from under him “Oh shit” he exclaimed as he dropped down, trying to smash the axe head back into the side, it finally went in, but he just sped up more, bouncing off the wall once in a while, fuck his ribs. Well they are definitely broken now if they werent before, and all around him white rolls of snow started shifting, and racing down with him. Soon it was enough to be considered an avalanche, and he landed heavily at the bottom, a dumping of snow landing on top of him. 

You jumped out of the train, with Johanna leaning out trying to catch you and stop you from taking off. But you rolled out of her grip. “Y/N! Come back, its not safe!” But damn it, you werent paying attention to anything but Curtis falling down the side of the cliff. HE JUMPED! THAT BASTARD JUMPED, GOD DAMN IT CURTIS! you screamed internally as you plowed your way through snow almost to your knees, falling every now and then, and struggling to get up, the whole time your panicked mutters of “nonononono” filled a bit of the silence after the snow crashed on top of itself at the bottom. By the time you reached the cliff face, all around you was just white swirls where the snow had yet to properly settle. “Curtis! Where are you?” You yelled out, looking all around you, but nothing, just white. Unsettled wisps blowing in your face. 

“Come on baby, answer me” your voice is starting to panic as you start searching under you, for anything Curtis shaped. If hes trapped under the snow, hes going to suffocate, sobs of fear escaping, and tears brimming your vision. You plunge your arms into what looks like the deepest snowbank and dig like your life depended on it. It did, it did depend on it. Why was he so fucken stupid? Jumping off a cliff, god damn you Curtis, if you leave me alone here... Your wheezing, completely unaware he had come up behind you, and in true Curtis fashion, he grasped your hips and swung you around. Shocked, your looking up at those familiar blue eyes, adrenaline had blown his pupils wide with the rush, and he to is panting, clumps of ice and snow in his beard and his whole face is red where it had been covered in snow. For seconds your just staring at him, but then, you let him have it. 

Your fist comes against his chest in a rage, bouncing off his pecks, and your just raging at this point. “what the fucken hell Curtis, you could have DIED! You idiot! Died, dead, gone, no more, do you hear me?!” He allowed it for a bit, but then he caught your hands and drew you in as the sobs of fear broke from you, struggling in his hold and grabbing his face, that damn face you love so damn much it hurt, one you were so scared for and mad at and just beyond relieved to have back because you were hurting all over and wanted to sink into his arms and be told that it was gonna be okay, that damn face. You crashed your lips against his, kissing him fiercly and possessively, only breaking apart when the loss of air burned your lungs and your head swam with dizziness. 

“Dont you ever do something like that again! God your such an Idiot, I love you” your forehead leaning against his, and his eyes looked in yours and you could see that he would again without question, and before he could say that, you nip his lip softly to keep him quiet and roam your hands over his chest and pull back. You werent allowed to go to far, as he yanked you back  in, his own hands searching you for anything out of the norm, cupping your face and placing a softer, but no less desired kiss on your lips “I wasnt going to leave you down here baby, I thought Ive lost you endless times over the past few days. I knew I saw you. I had to get down here. Especially with those fuckers coming for you.” 

Your hands slide into his coat, and that familiar warmth starts to seep into your burning cold fingertips and his oversized hands wipe your face dry, kissing across the cheeks and your nose to calm you down, leaning his forehead once more against yours. “You couldnt ask me to leave my girl here and not to to get to you, right?” And with that, your anger dissipates much like the remaining snow crystals in the air that swirl near you, your combined heat melting them away. Relief floods you and you sigh, leaning into him, God I need you so damn much. His arms enclose you and for the first time in days your okay. 

“All of it, they said they were just toying with you the entire time.” You breath out and pull back enough to look at him. “Did you get all the way there? I assumed so once the train derailed.” 

Curtis was going to have to tell her all that happened, and that was the big news about her brother, in that he was dreading. Not that her brother was alive, but what they twisted the man into. He nodded, and decided it would have to be later, once they were safely settled, could he break the news to her then. “Yes, we lost good people.... but they got me to the front, got me to Wilford. Come on, we have to get out of sight. I have a few people up top to cover us.” You didnt inquire anymore at the moment, following along in his footsteps as best as possible, your hand still fisted in his, loathe to let it go. You could easily see he was hurting, the way he took jagged steps. But you woudnt know more till he would really let you look him over No guns had to be fired, and maybe there luck was turning around. 

Johanna had the gun trained on Curtis till You stepped around him and waved your hand that it was okay, and she pulled back. As you two approached, Curtis climbed inside and held out his hand, greeting her with a thanks. “Damn glad Y/N had you with her Johanna.” She nodded her your welcome and turned to you. 

“If your planning on moving anyone, theres a couple who are beat up pretty bad. Your friend Sara is definitely suffering from blood loss, and we got to relocate a few shoulders.” Hearing the women discuss the injuries, Curtis was relieved it wasnt anything worst. But as he caught sight of the survivors, he knew why. There must be more casualties then survivors. They were a weary bunch, the kids all huddled together, sleeping or whispering to themselves, adults wandering back and forth unable to relax, some leaning back against the wall, holding there arm or shoulder from where it came out of joint in the fall. “Has anyone been able to go through the cars?” Curtis asked as you came up beside him. 

“No, once we landed, I got the kids to gather supplies, and then the guards tried to collect us. We bolted right out and headed to the cliff face. Others followed us. Paul told me that his cart had usable food in it and thats as far as we've been able to plan ahead." John came up to join them, listening in and introducing himself to Curtis.

"Probably would have either went into the other cars today, see if anyone survived the night or tried to find a way up. These are all the back end cars.... Short of the protein blocks, no other usable supplies. Old threadbare blankets, maybe some clothing." John mentioned, leaving Curtis nodding in agreement. He was right, all the usable supplies were in the front, they went through several freezer carts of beef and chicken, a garden cart, a bit of live stock in another, even an oversized tank that might still have usable food in it, he was sure once the train derailed any heating system went off, and it might all be frozen solid. And then not even mentioning supplies such as medicine and other goods. As Wilford mentioned before, it was an entire enclosed ecosystem. One that Curtis ripped wide open now.

"Theres a group up there waiting for us... The last of the tail enders and a few others, simple fact is we gotta move everyone up. Safer for us to be in a group then spread out, especially with Wilfords old buddies.” Curtis said that last part sarcastically, and you glanced at Curtis. 

“Well we cant climb up the way you came down, especially with people like Sara. Someones got to find a trail if there are any” 

So it was decided a couple would go look along the cliff face, see if there was a reasonable way up, John volunteered along with another man. They bundled up as best they could, blankets draped over there shoulders and they warily started along the trail you and Curtis made earlier. Now onto the next issue, You knew you should have taken care of the out of joint patients, more things like clothing was needed, some of these people were shivering with blue lips and fingertips. Fuck what a disaster. All of it. A hand came to your back and Curtis slipped up behind you as you watched the two men continue down your trail. You leaned back into his chest, and closed your eyes for a minute. Letting everything just go still inside you, just having him back eased you a bit. 

“We will be okay babygirl, get them all up and continue on our way.” His fingers brushed aside your hair laying against your neck and he dipped his head to kiss the curve, his lips soft brushes along the length. You enjoyed the sensation for a few moments, familiar and warming. But then enclosed when his hand moved to settle on your stomach and hold you in close, your breathing hitches. Why? Whats wrong? And you fight out of the haze clouding your mind, and pushing his hand back and away, turning to face Curtis. “We probably better get to those patients. Help me with them?” You brush past him and head into the back, frowning at yourself for how you just reacted, knowing exactly what it was, but admitting it was an entirely different story.

Curtis was surprised when you pulled away, about to stop you and ask what that was, but it had been hell for the past few days, so it would be understandable if you werent yourself. Following along with you, you were talking to Sara, who Curtis vaguely recognized from the back end. Lifting the rag she had used to keep pressed against her shoulder. “Im sorry I didnt get this out sooner Sara, but I got to now.” Another mistake, you think to yourself. There is a bit of redness and streaks blooming around it. Fuck why didnt you take care of this last night. With the way she was shot, you were sure there might be more then just a slug embedded in there. “Come on, lets go in the light.” You two go forward and as you pass Curtis, you encourage her to continue where Johanna was perched in the doorway, watching. 

“Curtis we definitely need more clothing, something for at least the kids to wrap up in. They will freeze with what they have now out there.” Your almost reach out to touch him, then pull back, stuffing your hands in your sleeves instead. 

“Yup, we will get it. Work on Sara and the others, we will be back soon.” He didnt push to touch you or share affection, but you tugged him back and placed a speedily kiss on his lips last minute. A ‘im sorry’ for earlier for yourself, he flashed you look that spoke volumes, then spun away and his voice boomed “Listen up, you... you... and you, were gonna be hitting up some of these cars... you....” Walking away, you felt more in control now, hearing him take control and having a plan in place. Sara was sitting with Johanna, looking exhausted, but holding a conversation. 

Withdrawing the knife you used earlier, you have Sara sit in the light, Johanna lowers back to her earlier spot, the rifle hanging out the door to keep watch. Bringing her shirt down enough to take a look at the wound, you sigh. “Like with Mickey, this is gonna hurt like a bitch. And I gotta make sure nothing is left in there.” Sara nodded and once more you dug for the bullet. Sara hunched a bit and did her best to stay still, a gasp escaping once in a while, but overall when she slouched forward into Johanna, you knew she passed out. Good, make this easier. 

“Sorry, let me just finish this and we can move her” You state and Johanna nods, moving to cradle the woman while you hear a plink! to the bullet falling out, and a few more pokes and prods, the blood seeping down, hesitant but hopeful that will finish cleaning the wound. “Okay, think shes good.” You use the rag she was earlier to put pressure on it and once it seemed to stop bleeding so much, you two move her, already Sara was stirring much to your satisfaction. “Just hang out here a bit, m’kay?” A nod and wince as she puts the rag back to be sure it wouldnt start bleeding. 

Then you went through the rest, relocating joints, checking nicks and cuts. A few people you found out had busted ribs, one had a arm that should be put in a splint, but there simply was no way to do so. “Just... keep it close to your body and dont move it. It will heal, in time.” Putting together a make shift sling with a shirt someone volunteered. Just as you were finishing up, Curtis and a few others returned, arms bundled in clothing, and as you two dispersed them among people, and bundling the kids up, you quietly ask him. 

“Was there alot.... of people... ?” 

“Yea baby, more then I thought there would be. Some of them, its hard to tell if it was before or after the crash.” He passed off a jacket to someone and looked at you. “Then there were others that just.... Its a lot.” 

You didnt push him, ask where he was going with that sentence, you had an idea of what it meant, and you didnt even want to have him have to explain his choice. People dont always survive. 

He continued, handing off the last item, and turning to you. “We only went through a few, but we cant wait any longer. And I found where those guards were hanging out, They have been collecting supplies in the further cars, as much as could be had” 

You swallow a bit, and keep yourself busy with the thought of them. “Where are they now?” 

“I dont know, they wandered away from the cars at some point. Im assuming they didnt have a aim on them up above and they werent coming back around to us.” Curtis shook his head as they started getting people up, moving them forward. “But if they do... “ Curtis rumbled softly under his breath. You pause and rest your hand against his back, inside dreading the coming conversation. He was already so on edge to them being out there. Johanna called then to you two, and John ducked back inside. “Well we found what looks like an animal trail. Goes right up along the side, and looks like its well used. Do you think... theres really something alive out there?” 

A shrug and nod from you “Were still alive, right? We can only guess as to what survived after the freeze.” 

It was painfully slow, John and Adam, as you come to find out what the other mans name was, led the group, you stayed with the kids, and helped Sara as much as she was able to stand, behind you were more of the adults, including Curtis and Johanna who were making sure no one fell behind. When you finally crested the top, you stepped off to the side, huffing with exertion, the people who had remained at the top cars were helping others inside or near some fires they all were able to start, clearly they had been busy while you all were coming up out of the valley. Curtis came up beside you, a groan of his own as his hand pressed against his left side. “Lets get inside babes, then we can take a break. We all need one.” 

Sara was collected and helped to where the other people were recovering, and Tam rushed up to the two of you once you entered the car “Hey, I got the kids, Edgar is sitting up already, and his back is looking much better.” You look confused for a moment, and Curtis shakes his head at you. “I will explain later. Thanks Tam, if everyones set, were going to go settle in somewhere for the night.” Assured that everything would be handled, Curtis led you away, these were similar to the tail end car, just with windows. Curtis was quick to find you two a empty bottom bunk. You crawled in first, and leaned against the wall, your head tipping back. Fuck you were so tired, and he semi collapsed next to you in a similar fashion. 

You turn just your head to look at him, and smile when you see hes doing the same thing. There hadnt been any chance to really just be with one another since reuniting and you reach your hand out, weaving your fingers with his. “Hey.... Thank you for keeping your promise and coming back to me.” 

He sat up a bit more and let go of your hand, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you in close, placing a kiss to your forehead, whispering. “Im sorry for leaving you like that babygirl. All I could think of was keeping you safe.” You put your hand against his mouth. 

“Handsome its fine, I know why you did it. Tell me what happened.” You inquired, and Curtis fell into how he pushed the group through each car, the ones they found that was possible to find supplies and food in for them, how the bridge claimed so many of them, one of whom he thought was Edgar, but that wasnt the case. How Nam wanted to blow open the side, jump from the train when he wouldnt open that final door, and this is where he stalled. He had to tell her. All of it. Her brother, his arm... he managed to keep it hidden this whole time, the pain a background noise at this point. 

“Babygirl come here, I just... need to hold you. I really thought I lost you.” He hauled you into his lap, and you tensed up momentarily when his arm circled around you, rubbing your lower back and side. But this was Curtis, you were safe. Under his hand you finally relaxed, and your head rested on his shoulder, he started in on the next part of his story. The rumble of his chest lulled you, while you listened. Wilford offered a deal, and Curtis admitted that he considered it. You lifted your head and looked at him. “You wouldnt have been able to live with yourself” He nodded, and leaned forward to kiss your lips softly. “Your right, I would have become everything I hated. Baby, this next part, you got to listen to me. Okay? the whole part before any questions.” 

“Curtis what is it?” Your brow furrows with concern at his words. 

“Matt, your brother... Hes alive, and he still is. I left him back at the front.” 

Your silent for a moment, and he could see your mind racing, processing his words. 

“Hes still alive... Matts still here.” And the joy that crossed your face broke Curtis heart because fuck he was going to have to tell you just how far gone he was, that there wasnt the compassionate little boy anymore. But a man with cold resolve and placed himself above the others, for he was the prodigy.  

“Baby, he isnt who you think he is, not anymore.” Curtis hands captured your face to make you pay attention to him. “Wilford trained him to be his successor, brainwashed. He has no compassion for any of the people, were something to control.”

“What? No Curtis, he loved us, He wouldnt forget, unless he thinks I let him go.” Your thoughts are spinning out of control, just what Curtis didnt want. You pull back from him then “He cant be that bad, I mean, Once I explain all that was going on, he will see.” A saddened look crossed Curtis face, reaching out to draw you back to him. 

“Baby we can try... but they were using our kids to run the train, put them right into the engine, and afterwards... Executed if they served no more purpose. Under his order, he was set on killing Yona, Nam and I if I didnt agree to there terms.” He couldnt even bring up the way your brother talked about you, the callousness of his words in discussing you, whom loved him more then yourself. 

“No... he wouldnt have been okay with it.” Your breathing grows more rapid and Curtis rubs your arms to comfort you. 

“I know baby, Im sorry... “ He was doing everything he could to calm you, but it was only setting you off worst. Again you pulled away from him, drawing your legs up and hugging around your knees, what are you not telling him? The only time you pulled away was the weeks after Matt was taken and you withdrew into yourself. “Y/N? Talk to me please?” He wants to reach for you, but you’ve just drawn yourself off, quiet as you stare ahead. 

Matt wouldnt, Curtis must have misunderstood what happened. He did what he had to to survive, the conclusions you drew. “You said hes still alive? You had to leave him behind, is he safe?” 

His hand dropped to his lap, studying you even as you waited for an answer. “He was safe when I left him and Claude. I was told you went over a damn cliff, I honestly had no other concerns.” His tone slightly clipped, and you can see where hes holding it together under a great strain. You unfold yourself, and return into his hold, feeling him once more relax being able to rest his hand on you. 

“They had Timmy, in the engine. Whatever they did to him, he was so unhuman acting. Robotic, he wouldnt come out once Nam and I secured the room.” He shifted you and this is the first time you see the tangled mess of his arm when he slid his sleeve up, deep laceration that have scabbed over criss crossing where the gears tore in, but they were still great tears, all of it swollen, and throbbing looking. “Fucken hell Curtis” You cuss as you finish rolling his sleeve up to look at it. “Youve been like this the whole time? Baby you need medicine in case of infection.” So tenderly you inspected it, you seemed more like yourself now, your mind distracted. 

Curtis remained still as you went to roll the sleeve back down, and was gnawing on your bottom lip. “God damn handsome, im so sorry.” Your hands went to his face, feeling for any kind of fever, and giving a small smile when he turned into your palm and nipped the center, kissing your fingertips before letting his head once more fall back against the wall. “You seem to not be fighting off an infection though. But I will feel better once we can secure some stuff from the medic car.” You shift to his other side so you dont risk touching his arm, rubbing your hand along the back of his neck. For now you both go quiet, just being together. This time his hand slides along the inside of your thigh, just resting warmly there. You can feel yourself drifting off, and finally he says softly. 

“We should get some sleep” He shifted off the wall, and laid down for the first time in days, waiting with a lifted arm for you to do as you always do, curl in against his chest. Which you did, you always did, and stretching out, scooting over till his arm rested over your hip, he tugged you in the rest of the way. His body is hard against your back, and his beard scratches lightly behind your neck as he placed kisses there. Nothing sexual, just a bit of intimacy after such a long time apart. You cant help but tense up, which he notices when you dont sink into him, how your breathing doesnt soften after a few minutes, and he wants to ask you, make you spill whatever it is your holding inside. But he doesnt, he just stays by your side, his hand moving to slide under your shirts and gently let it rest against the softness of your stomach. Wide awake until finally he hears you release a soft snore, a true testament to your exhaustion. 

You laid there, your fingers curled into the ticking of the blanket your laying on, your heart a quick flash patter, escape escape escape, this was fucking CURTIS. How could you feel that hot heat of panic flushing your body or that your throat was squeezing air through a straw. You waited, waited for him to tighten his arm around you as he usually did or sprawl you across his chest when he rolled to his back, but he stayed still behind you, and the tension between you two just built. I should tell him, but how can I? For whatever reason, it shamed you that you couldnt fight them off. Finally his fingers just splayed against your stomach where he worked his hand under your shirts and loosely held you. After a while, you couldnt help it anymore, falling asleep. Fuck those men for doing this to you. 

@curtisbbq​ @what-is-your-plan-today​ @p8tn0lish​ @jtargaryen18​ @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​ @official-and-unstable-satan​ @thatweirdwalangpake​

[jennytranly]

Bringing this up because I still miss you in my life and just want to be close to you again, even if it is as just friends. I want to meet you and get to know who you are now.

This post is all about you. This will be a really long post but it will be my last one. I won’t be posting anymore. Tumblr will forever be our thing lol. The post is really sappy and confusing but it’s full of love.

If you’re reading this or if you ever come across this, I want you to always look at this and feel happy, loved and receive strength. I want to start off by saying, I love you, so so much. Sometimes I wonder if I should have said it in the car but it wouldn’t have changed anything. But I just hope you know that I love you. And maybe just you knowing it, is enough for me.

I love you with all your flaws, with all of your mistakes and all of your regrets. If I could, I would talk to you for hours, I would talk to you forever. I would tell you how great you are, how wonderful you are. But forever doesn’t seem to be for us, so I’ll leave you with this love that will stay here forever. I love that you’re changing and growing, for you. I love that you have dreams and I love that you put your family first. I want you to have everything you desire. If you want to live in Seattle, if you wanna travel, if you wanna meet more people, If you want to meet a new love, if you already have a new love, I just want you to get everything you desire. I know you will get there one day and I will pray for you to get there. I pray for you to be happy, healthy, and cherished.

If you ever feel unloved, negative or down on yourself... God is always with you, every step of the way. He created you to be the amazing you that you are. He created the loving, gentle, kind hearted, hard working, handsome, cute, strong man that you are. He created your bread hair, your hazel/light brown eyes, the large pores on your nose, the scar on your finger from the wart you froze off, your long finger and toe nails, your innie “black hole”, your fuzzy tummy and toes, the dark scar/skin behind your thigh from exercising and laying lol, your cute sensitive baby butt, your hairy legs yet bare ankles, your beautiful feet that is full of callous from basketball. I used to remember your moles and other markings on your body but it seems to slip my mind now that I can’t run my fingers to admire the beauty of everything that you encompass. Because they are all beautiful, at least to me. I hope no one makes you feel ugly, self-conscious, or inadequate and I hope the person you love will love every single part of you. You deserve that love.

God created you to grow at this time of your life, things happen for a reason. We met for a reason, the path you’re currently on will take you to where you’re meant to be. God placed you at WWU, He places you in spaces to experience “immaturity”, which it isn’t. It was my mistake to say that about you. It’s spaces to find your own personal growth. You’re not immature, you’re you. Goofy, funny, silly, easy-going, kid-hearted are WONDERFUL qualities, please don’t grow up for the sake of growing up. You can still be all those things and responsible. I’m a serious person because life hit me hard, my trauma and family stress forced me to be serious. But I dont like this part of me, I wish to feel simple joy of being goofy. I wish I was a child at heart because you’re just so much more joyful and radiant being silly. And I am so sorry to have made you suppress it, it was my fault. You are mature for being able to sacrifice yourself for your family and future family. You are smart and responsible to run a business, or two or THREE at the young age of 26. That’s insanely awesome!! You are so much more responsible and mature than most folks working the 9-5. You have more responsibilities than anyone I know. You’re a house manager of 3, business owner of 3, supervisor, office coordinator, CNA, student, driver, chef, photographer, videographer, basketball player, weightlifter, pianist, gamer, simple carpenter/mechanic, cleaner, future husband, future father, lover, son, amazing friend, brother in Christ and most importantly, a child of God. A talented, skilled, mature, hard-working, strong, capable, kindhearted, loving, and intelligent man. These are A LOT that you’re currently doing, have done, and will do, it’s definitely no small feat. This is way more than most, than me. Please never forget how hard you are currently working and have worked. It’s very difficult to juggle it all, but you’re doing so much better than you think you are. You’re talented in all those aspects! I only worked 3 jobs and school which is kinda equivalent to your current hours. But your duties far exceeded mine and you’ve been at it for way more years than me. You are so much more than what you think of yourself and I hope someone reminds you how amazing you truly are. If not, please feel free to come back to this, any time you feel down on yourself.

You’re the best person I’ve ever met in my life. I’m still on this earth in part because of you. Mainly because of God but I am so lucky that God created such a wonderful man. I am saved and alive because of your faith, love, care and kindness. I will go on to impact others and students because I am alive and know Jesus. That’s because of you. You... your faith and your heart are changing others lives because I learned it from you, by knowing you and loving you. My current heart, spirit, faith, love, etc. is because I met you and have loved you. I grew and continue to grow because of our love, your love and Gods love through you. All of the lives I’ve impacted is because of your impact. Please give yourself credit for impacting all these lives as well.

Lastly, if I could, I would be with you. If I could, I would knock on your door and tell you that I wish it was you. I would tell you that I want to stay in Washington because I don’t want to be away from the two people I love the most in this world, Sean and you. I would tell you that I imagined a life with you, to be a teacher, live life with you in Lacey, care for Sean, help you run the business, and have a family. It’s an imagination that has been there since we dated. But I know that I am not what you need right now. Maybe you’ll find a nurse wife, or a Filipina gal your parents will love, a Christian woman, idk your dream love. I want you to have that dream life and dream love. Only you know yourself and your life. I don’t want to impede your growth, I don’t want to be in the way of all the things you want to experience for yourself. You always said that you can’t make me happy. How do you know those things are still what I want? How do you know if I’ve changed? I don’t want you to think that way because I’m just happy to have known you and loved you. I’m just happy that you exist in this world. I am so incredibly blessed and lucky to have met you, loved you, and be loved by you. I am happy if you’re happy. I am happy to have experienced life with you, even if it wasn’t forever. If I could figure out a way or ideas to hold you close again, I would. But I don’t know how to move forward with you. I can’t individually lol cause that’s force. I can only force myself to let you live your life. So I leave this here, for you, whenever you want to read it. Or if you never want to, it’s ok too. If it’s creepy, please don’t report me lmao or just never read it.

I sia so much. I always wish you were next to me experiencing life. I wish to tell you simple things like how clean my room is. How weird that I live only 35 mins away now. How terrible mom is. How loving dad is. I wish to know your life. Your family, your friends, your trips, your work, your residents, your hopes and fears. I wish I could be with you and I wish for forever with you. But, I’ll just leave this here. I’m sorry I hurt you, I’m sorry I’m not enough for you, I’m sorry I ever made you feel like you weren’t enough, I’m sorry that my insecurities messed you up, I’m sorry I’m a coward and can never say this to you directly. I couldn’t look at you in the car because of what I did to you. Because you light up my world. But I know you don’t want to be with me so it breaks my heart at the same time, this is why I can’t look at you. I don’t regret ending it because look at you now, you’re happy and growing! Yay you! I’m proud of you. I can tell how much you’ve grown and changed from our short conversation. Just hearing about your life makes me happy, I’m happy because of you. I’m sad because I can’t let go, it has nothing to do with you. I’m sad cause I love you too much, that’s my own issue. Anyways, I hope one day someone will love you more than I did, more than I do, more than this post and I hope you are reminded how truly beautiful and extraordinarily amazing you are. Thank you God for a creating a true blessing on this earth and thank YOU for just being a wonderful you. Sia forever! No one will ever take your place. You’re unreplaceable. You are my warmest home in this lifetime, nothing and no one can replace your warmth in my heart. I love you. Bye bye best friend. I want to be with you and love you foreva. But I guess that, I can do on my own, the loving you part. So I will, I will miss you forever and I will love you forever. 💜

I’ll be ok. Don’t worry, life moves forward and one day, so will I. Maybe I’ll meet you in another lifetime, when we are meant to be. But until that lifetime, I hope you’ll be more than ok without me. I know you will, you’re doing just fine now. 😊

- Jenny

[saibh29]

Thief (Part 6)

Pairing: Bellamy / Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Violence, Light Smut (PG13)

AN: We’re getting to the end of my plotted out map for this story, so I hope you all enjoy this part. Also, my editing seems to have gone to shit so if anyone knows anyone who would be willing to do some Beta work with me please let me know? I’m happy to work with people as well on a back and forth basis. 

If you want to read the previous parts of this story find them here:::: Part One , Part Two , Part Three , Part Four , Part Five 

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Fuck it all to hell, you had told Finn, told him so many times that you’d felt like a parrot. It was only to be him and Clarke at this meeting with Anya. Just like Anya would only bring you and her second. Of course you’d been naïve to think either of them would keep their word. Clarke had definitely brought more than just Finn and Anya had brought a whole horde of warriors.

It had been inevitable at that point that someone was going to get an itchy finger and fire without meaning to. Unfortunately, that person had been on Clarke and Finn’s side. Bullets had rained down on your people and you had all retreated back with untrusting eyes falling on you. Why had you let Finn talk you into this? You were going to pay for how badly this had all turned out.

Tris had been hit with one of those bullets and from the sickly pale colour of Anya’s second you doubted she would be recovering anytime soon. No one within your own tribe had the medical skills to heal bullet wounds. Poison and arrow’s yes, but bullets? There was a reason why you had been sent to steal the vast majority of their ammunition.

“Y/N?”

You jerked at Anya’s voice coming from behind you, turning to look into your leaders face. She looked tired and more than a little bit concerned for Tris.

“I need you to do something for me”

“What is it?”

“Scouts brought in Clarke and Finn earlier on this morning, I need you to go to the sky people’s camp. Keep that boy in the walls”

“That boy?” you asked curiously then continuing “you haven’t hurt them Anya?”

“I haven’t and I won’t as long as the girl succeeds in healing Tris” folding her arms across her chest she levelled her gaze on you, tiredness banished “You are to keep Bellamy Blake within the walls of that camp Y/N. I don’t care how you do it, but he needs to stay away”

“You don’t care how I do it?” Anya had a tone to her voice that you didn’t like, it implied something about your relationship with Bellamy that you hadn’t even admitted to yourself yet. “You sound like you have some idea about what needs doing Anya”

“Don’t try and cover up your feelings for them Y/N” her face pinched into a look of distaste. “It’s impossible to miss how you talk about them all of a sudden, your becoming more like Lincoln day after day”

“I am nothing like him”

Anya simply shrugged her shoulders “at this moment in time I don’t care what you believe, in fact your fondness for them is helping my immediate goals. Go, keep Bellamy occupied enough to leave Finn and Clarke here”

You wanted to keep pressing, to try and get some sort of guarantee out of Anya that she wouldn’t hurt Finn or Clarke. However, you knew Anya to well to think that you were going to succeed in that respect instead you would take what she had given already. “When do you want me to go?”

“Now” Anya held out your coat, the dark green one that allowed you to blend so well into the back drop of the forest. “As long as you can Y/N”

“As long as I can” you slipped into the coat flicking the hood up over your hair and doing up the buttons.

You knew that when Anya said now she meant now you didn’t bother looking back to try and get any sort of glimpse at Finn or Clarke instead simply taking off for the borders of the forest. Stealing wasn’t your only skill nor was slipping ropes. You could also move almost inhumanely fast through the forest; it was a talent you hadn’t been able to teach to anyone else. The way you jumped over the undergrowth and missed hazards around you. All of it added up to the fact that reaching the sky peoples camp would have taken others hours but took you only one.

Movement was frantic around the camp and you could see hordes of kids running around seemingly unsure of what they should do. Who you couldn’t see was Bellamy though, the one person who you were supposed to be distracting.

Distracting, that was the interesting word. What exactly was distracting Bellamy going to take and just how far were you willing to go to uphold Anya’s orders.

You stayed in the trees for a moment scouting out time in the guard’s rotation to slip through the tunnel and into the camp. From the edge of the tunnel it was easy enough to skirt around the edges of the camp and tents to towards the one you knew was Bellamy’s. You were taking a guess that that was where he might be, planning what to do next. From the outside you couldn’t hear any voices so taking the risk that he was going to be on his own you slipped inside.

Your luck apparently was holding because sure enough Bellamy was sat on the edge of his bed, head in his hands staring down at the floor. “I’m not in the mood for another lecture Clarke”

He didn’t know that Clarke had gone yet, that was good. “Then it’s a good job I’m not Clarke”

He jerked, jumping up from his bed to spin around staring over at you. “Y/N”

“In the flesh” you pushed your hood down revealing your face to him, smiling softly at his visible surprise. “Sorry for skipping out on you again, but I did promise to be back”

“What are you doing here?”

Slowly you undid the buttons of your coat dropping it to the floor as you came over to a still tense Bellamy. “You tried to kill Anya, you nearly did kill Tris”

“Tris?”

“Anya’s second. She isn’t happy”

“Do you really think that bothers me?” he snapped out anger filtering over his features as he stared down at you.

“I think it should” you took the final step towards him so your bodies were only inches apart. “I think if it honestly doesn’t than your more stupid than I thought and that’s just…disappointing”

Bellamy reached up grabbing your arms and squeezed to such an extent that it was almost painful. “I’m only going to ask you once more Y/N, what are you doing here?”

“Can I not want to see you?” his nostrils flared at that, he wanted it to be true you could see it on his face. He wanted to believe that you wanted to see him. It was interesting, it seemed that Bellamy was fighting just as hard as you were to deny that there was anything but hostility between the two of you. That the chemical pull you felt towards him didn’t actually exist. You slowly raised your hand up to rest your hand against his chest, you could feel his heart beat accelerating under your touch. “I did want to see you again Blake”

“But?”

“But that’s not the whole reason”

You’d reached a crossroads, right now in this moment your life could go one of two directions. You could do as you had been raised to protect Anya and not tell him that is was likely that Clarke and Finn were both going to die at the hands of your people. Or you could tell him the truth, you could betray your people and you could take the final step towards living a life like Lincoln lived.

“I need to know something from you before I tell you”

“Need to know what?” Bellamy’s grip loosened on your arms but he didn’t completely let go of you, almost like he was scared that you were going to vanish once more.

“Would you have killed Lincoln? If I hadn’t gotten him out of this camp. Would you have killed my friend?”

He went silent, eyes flicking down from your face to instead stare down at the floor. “No” he whispered out. “Is that what you want to hear? That your enemies are weak. That I wouldn’t have been able to kill him when it came down to the end”

“I don’t think your weak” you moved your hand up from his chest, tracing his collar bone and up his neck to lift his chin so you could stare into his eyes once more. “I don’t think mercy is weakness Bellamy. On the contrary I think it takes more courage to show forgiveness” lifting yourself up onto your toes you pressed your lips against Bellamy’s.

Unlike the first time you had kissed him Bellamy didn’t stay motionless for long. His hands went to your hips pulling your body up to his own, then wrapped around your waist. One large hand splayed out on the base of your back and the other moved up to tunnel into your hair.

Your body lit up like it was one fire, Bellamy’s touch sending shivers over your skin and made your brain vacate the premises. You barely managed to wrench yourself back under control breaking away from his lips.

“Wait Bellamy, I’m a distraction” you gasped out gripping onto his shirt. “I’m a distraction”

“A distraction?” his own eyes were still unfocused with lust as he kept you wrapped in his arms.

“Anya, she has Clarke and Finn. If Clarke can’t save her second, she’ll kill them. I’m the distraction”

Bellamy tensed but surprising you he still didn’t let go of you or try and restrain you. “Why are you telling me this?”

You bit your lip staring up at him. “Because sometimes mercy is most courageous thing you can do”

[jhoe]

not a day goes by where i dont think about hoseok ? it's weird bc i think of him everyday? i think of his full round cheeks like fat peaches and the soft delicate slope of his nose and how it curves up a little at the tip and how it would be the most perfect place to plant my lips after a long day. i think about his full lips like perfect pink wads of hubba bubba dhhdjd like theyre so beautiful and pouty and plump gosh and the perfectly placed mole right on the line of his lip where it turns more brown than pink and the dip of his philtrum and how beautifully it blends back out into the rosy pink of his lip and i still think about the little mole above his left eyebrow even though he got it removed and i think about brushing his hair to the side and cradling his head and kissing where that precious little mole used to be and i think about the strong outline of his body and how i want to trace every detail and winding curve and familiarize myself with all his little nooks and crannies and i know that sound stupid but god i think about this boy every waking moment of my life and you would think that after four years of it i would become numb to the thought but everyday i swear i find something new to love and i think of him and i can feel my heart unfurling in my chest and world defrosts a little and everything feels like it's going to be okay. and i am just so unbelievably enamored and unable to wrap my mind around everything that he is! he's beautiful but god oh my god he's passionate and patient and giving and thoughtful and optimistic and funny he has such a sense of humor and he's so much more intelligent than we give him credit for and like fuck it im goin in ! passion! hes so full to the brim with passion he's completely overflowing with love for his craft and you can see it in everything he does, he's a perfectionist. in the way he dances, he moves like he's not just memorized the moves and is performing them, he moves like he knows each move personally like he has studied how each one feels from his fingertips to his toes, he moves like he's communicating like he's talking with his body and like he is completely immersed in some other world that we can't even comprehend and when he talks you can tell and when he raps something about it is so raw and uncut and how he's been able to develop his own rap style when he didn't even plan to be a rapper speaks volumes for his dedication and passion and god its so attractive??????? and patient hes so gentle and calm when he teaches the others and when they're not quite getting it he slows down his little "ba baba ba baba"'s and breaks down the steps and like that one video of him leading dance practice and he looks so focused and when everyones not getting it he gets everyone together and they talk about it before trying again and hes just such a good teacher and watching him in his element like that is so magical and you just feel honored to be able to look at him and witness his self growth while bettering others and goshfhebrsg fuck its so calming it makes me feel like my brain and heart and soul are just floating in the damb clouds ! and hes giving hes always giving giving giving hes always giving us content and giving praise to the members and giving gifts and giving thanks and he gives so damb much and im scared that he would give his heart right out of his chest if he didn't need it so bad ! hes just always thinking of armys and his members and the little smile he gets when he mentions either just makes me want to give him everything right back like fuck the man is so fucking humble and when he talks to us hes always always promising that he'll work harder and perform better and keep putting out content and always thinking long and hard about what he says before he says it hsgdhsjs thts also a super endearing habit of his like when hes super relaxed and just doing a video or a live and hes not around anyone else, his voice drops a little and he kinda relaxes and rests his chin on his hand and talks real slow and giggles gently and makes lots of "hmmm" and "ahhhh" and "mmmm" noises as he thinks and god fuckfin i could really just listen to him talk forever like call me dramatic but i can physically feel every cell and bone in my body settle kind of like an old house and i feel a little like melty jello but in a good way because im wrapped in wool blankets but not the scratchy kind and i'm safe and nothing can hurt me because he's there and he's talking about dancing and his latest project and his mom and sister and mickey and it's so.. safe??? and the boy is optimistic despite everything and not in the sense that hes one big giant ray of blinding sunshine but because he's able to be that throughout everything?? if that makes sense?? even the members have said "hes not actually like that off camera" but because of the brand he's adopted, he continues to be. he continues to be that loud, carefree friend for us and for his members even when i'm sure he's stressed and sad and tired and god do you know how strong you have to be to do that like i can hardly even smile at customers at work when im sleepy but he gets up and does it and bares himself to the world with a smile on his face and i worry about him sometimes because i dont want him to think we would love him any less if he ever stopped but the strength he possesses to do so is indescribably admirable and i want him to know its okay and we love him and fuck i wouldn't ever trade him for the world he is perfect and bright on his own as he is and this probably isn't making sense and ur probably like when is this bitch gonna shut up but the answer is never ! i love him ! i love him and respect and admire and support him because of everything he is and isn't and if my heart was even able to fathom the soft little pit of love that has grown inside of me i'm pretty sure i would just die ! like my heart strings are tied around his perfect delicate fingers and he reached for the cereal this morning and nearly yanked my heart out and he doesn't even know it ! like god i am head over heels over head over heel over head over heels x100 over and over and i know that i will never love a man like this in this lifetime or any other one ever again ! anyway.. i fucks w hoseok heavy

[belarath]

so I've finally figured out how to vent on here again without falling into a panic spiral which is lovely  :  and I’m just going to spam myself here cause I really need to let something out   :   I’m dying, I'm just straight up dying in here   :   I’m so empty, in many ways   :   I’m wrecked physically, I couldn't walk up a hill 2 weeks ago without sitting down halfway though, and I don't mean a big hill I mean the side of a lightly inclined large road   :   I barely can make it to eat anymore, sitting up is a challenge, any you can forget any kind of maintenance   :   I got better yesterday only just so I could wash my hair enough that after washing it again today its not riddled with dandruff enough to clog up my comb anymore   :   I finally shaved which I like, but i’ve only been able to enjoy that at home. I step outside and its not good for how anxious I am. I had a fake lining of protective masculinity that I relied on to convince me I’m safe. I still felt uncomfortable going places especially at night but it wasn't to bad. now though I’m double as certain every person I see will shank me. I’m constantly looking over my shoulder which panics me cause every time I do that I'm certain that makes me look afraid which makes me a better target   :   though shaving has made me feel better physically   :   I hate my body so much, but shaving makes me feel a bit better which is a relief, the constant loathing of how I look is very very draining   :   you'd think that like after alllll this god damn time it'd get a little easier to live with such a retched self body image but its just so heavy feeling still   :   I worry   :   I’ve always been a very sad person   :   and like I acknowledge that Its probably not healthy how sad I am all the time but   :   I’ve been like this my entire life   :   I’ve never felt happy for longer than like, maybe more than a month or 2 straight   :   I’m so confident in how well I can endure the deathly long expanses of numbness and hyper draining lack of energy   :  the lack of passion for anything the tastelessness of food   :   the contentment to not move the endless wishing for god damn peace and quiet   :   I have that thing where you really just don't want to exist, I just don't want to have to live in this body and be this mind, I acknowledge I don't have a fear of death because I day dream about not being alive in the sense that being alive is very very very heavy   :   not all the time but,,  so much of the time and that not needing to feel the desire to not want to feel heavy anymore is lovely   :   like I’ve lived like this for my entire memory and so just continuing to live has been my jam   :   I know that if I did die, my Mum would not cope, she’s die   :   I’ve watched her claw her way through things, I swear she doesn't know how hard she’s had it, and I cannot take any joy she's gleamed from this life she's sacrificed so much to reach by selfishly dying   :   death is out of the option until my Mum dies   :   and its likely that death will be out of the option until my close friends either drift away or die as, well, they’ve gone though too much, one specifically I worry about, and I think that dying would be rude to say the least   :   and again its just very selfish   :   one of the virtues of having been programmed to treat myself as lesser is that this instinct has prevent my death which is cool   :   it does make for some suffering though   :   but anyway i’ve drifted   :   I wasn't worried about myself and my sadness until this week   :   I think wednesday? I think I had a moment, I’m certain I had a moment where I fantasied about self harm, and the thing about this is that fantasising about it made me feel better, which really is the part I’m scared about   :   funny thing is though that I have a friend who did self harm but they used like a cutting tool and in my head I was like “ugh no thats just not the way to do it stabing is a way better idea!”   :   my friend told me about their experience and they said they knew it was dumb thing to do cause they had people they knew that did it but they still did it, I forget the reason why. but they regretted it and for some reason it made me thing that I’m way more reasonable because I learnt from them and decided that using like cork board pins seems like a way better idea XD   :   I didn't self harm because the pin I had on me I’m sure wasn't clean and I didn't have the energy or the free break to go get a clean one, and going through the rigamarole of sterilising and then trying to hide it was just,,, to much for my stamina to think possible.  : luckily again another piece of programming “gifted” to me by good old paterna saved me from this moment of self harm as I believe everything has to be done by the book! not by like a real book but the book he taught me to make for myself. what a lovely instinct! to have half my brain assigned to making rules to punish and contain my self which is completely SELF SUFFICIENT   :   I’m being sarcastic btw   :   to the core of me tip to toe I hate it with a fucking passion   :   one of the few passions that I do have XD   :   but again I drifted though   : the moment passed and I haven't wanted to self harm again since then which is good but I’m still unnerved   :   I’m so scared   :   I’ve been dying on the inside for a little bit now   :   I think i have anxiety, and i think I may have a little paranoia though I haven't googled it so I may not   :   but gosh its been put into perspective how self destructive I am   :   there was a post which listed a bunch of self destructive behaviours 28 in total, I had 21 of them and the other 7 involved sexuality which I don't have much of being mostly ace   :   I remember thinking “its a fairly good list” but it kinda highlighted somethings    :   it made me think    :   maybe dressing in wet clothes because you couldnt be bothered to keep your body clothed cleanly and then going out in cold windy weather even though you know you’re going to shiver and probably chafe a bit and then be super hungry cause your cold so you decide to eat out and berate yourself for spending or get home and eat and berate yourself for not making something better and getting fatter or not eating just cause who cares.   MAYBE THATS SELF DESTRUCTIVE   :   or maybe staying at public dnd games which a bunch of people who unnerve you and sap you of energy for sometimes chunks of 3 to 5 hours because you “don't want to offend people” or “don't want to mess up anyones schedule” while also not eating or drinking enough MaYbE ThAtS SeLfDeStRuCtIvE Too   :   maybe its knowing you will get horrific migraines or want to throw up from lack of sleep and maybe that will spike your anxiety about being fired from your work because you can't shake the feeling everyone wants to fire you but you don't mention anything because you'd feel bad about leaving or something and because some of these people you actually like you'll degrade yourself more because they are worth it and you’re not MAYBE THATS FUCKING SELF DESTRUCTIVE   :   I WANT TO SCREAM BUT I DONT   :   I NEVER FUCKING HAVE AND IM DYING INSIDE   :   god I get so mad and I scream so loud in my head my head hurts   :   I’m so broken in so many intricate ways and I know I could feel so much better but, theres so much in the way! and most of its me thats in the way! I’m so close to not even just like help Im so close to comfort! I just want be held by people I like, I’m sure I could ask for like more hugs or to cuddle or to hold hands or for people to play with my hair or for just in general human contact of any kind but, theres so much social anxiety to even begin to ask something like that and that even if I were to get consent how the hell could i learn to initiate!? I”M SO FUCKING SCARED to like ask for physical contact from yet another trauma as a kid. If it weren't bad enough that I’m hyper petrified about getting consent for any kind of physical contact but I also believe that if i were to touch people it would be automatically labeled as predatory because I’m male. I’m starting to think maybe sexual trauma as a kid has had a bigger effect on my psyche than I think? which in all honesty is just, its just exhausting to hold in my head that idea.