#i just want everyone to have a good time. is that too much to hope for?

[revelboo]

For your fated mate series, I'm really intrigued to see how it would go for Optimus to find his mate on his next outing after witnessing B's try to escape. Maybe his human would have some angst about finding that sense of belonging in someone they'd have to give up their old life for, or maybe they'd be so damned jazzed to finally feel like everything is falling right into place because they've never felt like they belonged anywhere. (Maybe they're already into the idea of fucking an alien robot and they hit on him first, who knows?(wait that kinda happened with your idw OP, now that I think about it...))

At any rate, keep up the great work, stay rested and hydrated, and have a beautiful day.

Poor guy realizes how unhappy Bee’s human is, so he’d be horrified to end up drawn to his own human. Knows he should interfere with Bee, but also really wants it to work out and for his friend to be happy, so he’s turning a blind optic to what’s going on

Don’t Give Up On Me

TFO Optimus x Reader

• Venting as he watches Bee carry his human back to his habsuite while fussing over them, Optimus’s servos flex. Knowing he should say something. Put a stop to this obsession the other bot has, but at the same time, he remembers when he first met Bee. Abandoned and thrown away, isolated from everyone. And he thinks about how lonely that must have been. That he doesn’t want Bee to ever be alone like that again. So he stays silent with his guilt for letting this happen.

• Can feel the optics of the other Autobots that had witnessed everything on him and they turn away when he looks their way. Pretending they didn’t see anything. And it’s too much suddenly. “Going on patrol,” he growls stalking past them. Out of the suddenly claustrophobic Ark and he transforms, falling forward into his new vehicle mode taken from this world. Just needs some space.

• And there it is. No amount of pleading is coaxing your old sedan another mile or so as the engine sputters. You’d been coasting on fumes and prayers for miles, hoping there’d be a gas station around the next bend in the road. Rolling onto the side of the lonely stretch of road to come to a slow stop, your head thumps against the steering wheel. You’re not even really sure where you are, your phone had died miles ago. This was supposed to be a fresh start. A second chance. This isn’t how you envisioned it beginning at all.

• Rolling down the highway, he sees the car on the side of the road. Doesn’t even pay it any attention. Until he draws closer and it hits him unexpectedly. Spark aching as he slams on his brakes. Because he thought Bee had exaggerated the feeling. But it’s got him by the throat, longing and a sense of familiarity. Of home that he needs so bad it hurts. And he sees you startle at the screech of his brakes, sticking your head out the window to stare. You’re his. Knows it. Feels it spark deep, like he already knows you. That he’s always known you.

• Staring at the red and blue semi, you inhale. Good Samaritan or axe murderer, place your bets, you think as you cast about for anything even remotely resembling a weapon and come up with nothing. And the truck’s just sitting there in the middle of the road. Like the driver isn’t sure he actually wants to help, cranking your anxiety higher. Staring as the semi shudders right before the thing comes apart, your mouth falling open as it stands up. And stares down at you with strange blue optics that somehow feel so familiar.

• You’re right there. So small and precious, something he needs more than energon, more than life. Loving you the moment he be meets your eyes. Can you feel it, too? Do you know him? Have you been waiting your whole life for him like he’s waited for you? He smiles down at you, crouching and reaching. Right as you’re throwing open a door and running away from him. There’s no conscious decision, he’s moving to catch you out of reflex. Because he has to. Can’t let you get away now that he’s found you even as he’s horrified by the visceral need to catch you, hold you. Keep you.

I wanted to go to the kickoff party tonight, but whatever I did has me FUBARed pretty good lol. Can’t stop sweating and walking feels like I’m on a trampoline.

[baskinbucky]

tonight, I asked God a favor.

pairing: bob reynolds x reader

blurb: everyone in the tower knows how much bob likes you and everyone is trying to help him showcase his affection little by little—one of them hopes you’d return the affection before lovesick bob gives up on trying.

a/n: this might be short and narrative heavy, and is mostly focused on bob’s point of view!

warnings: random morning watchtower shenanigans. starlit yearning by bob. fluff! reader being insanely oblivious and everyone gets a bit frustrated to it (except bob)

note: no thunderbolts* spoilers! no proof read.

“Bucky did you just shave?” Yelena blurted out with a spoonful of cereal as she watches Bucky walks toward the kitchen, his eyes boring to Yelena’s. It was as if he wanted to scoop her eyeballs out.

“What’s my beard have to do with your breakfast?” Bucky responded as he pours himself a cup of coffee from the pot, taking a loaf of bread and loaded it within the toaster.

“I was just asking if you shaved!”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“I thought i’m just drunk!”

“what?”

“what..?” Yelena responded in a hushed voice as she continue to take spoonfuls of her cereal instead of meeting Bucky’s gaze. It seems that he wanted to reprimand but this time of the day? He doesn’t feel that kind of energy fill him just yet.

Everyone was having a quiet breakfast, Ava’s eyes bore into the newspaper’s editorial section, huffing out comments and low profanities with its content. John seemingly occupied with doomscrolling on his phone, or visiting his now ex-wife’s profile. Alexei telling Bucky stories about Yelena’s childhood and how she manages to get into the team but benched her anyways. Then, there’s Bob who’s too preoccupied with his crossword to even notice that his warm milk went cold.

As if right on cue, everyone pauses what they’re doing when you entered the kitchen, your hair disheveled in all directions possible, your eyes still closed and it’s still such a wonder to everyone present in the room how you managed to walk towards the area without bumping and breaking something.

“Guys, what does it mean when they said that ‘tea’ is not actually hot tea but-” He was immediately cut off of his thoughts when you took a seat next to him, his pencil and crossword booklet held up as if he was being held captive.

“G-good morning, Y/N” He greets softly, like he’s greeting a hedgehog in a burrow, calculated actions and responses is on heightened alert for him because of how flustered he felt the moment you leaned your head on his shoulder.

You did not respond with full words but a nod sufficed from everyone, considering the fact that they might have convinced themselves you’re an episode away from joining as an extra for the clickers role in The Last of Us.

Bob felt your breathing to go slow and steady, it was as if you had only woken up to move places and sleep on his shoulder. While it is common knowledge for everyone to know that you can fall asleep anywhere whenever your body decided to shut off of any ludicrous activity there is to do in the tower—Alexei sometimes suggested to slip in Russian Vodka in your coffee to wake your system.

“Did she just wake up and sleep again?” Alexei asked while he gently itches his head in curiosity, his eyes then wandered on your sleeping figure, Bob’s hand on your shoulder–holding you closer and with such care.

You were knocked out of sleep to even feel Bob carrying you into the living room, gently placing you down on the couch, placing a soft pillow under and draping you with a knitted blanket that he learned making on youtube when Yelena brought crocheting kits for him to pass the time with her.

Everyone in the tower but you knew about how much Bob liked you, from stolen glances that he takes at every movie night and bookstore runs. From every subtle touch that you give Bob makes him blush and fluster—hell, even every time you call him by his name he blushes like crazy.

But Bob doesn’t want you to know, atleast not now.

“Bobby, why don’t you tell our little friend that you like them?” Yelena asked as if it was that easy to do. Like it was easy for Bob to do.

“I’m scared. W-what if she doesn’t like me back? what if she likes someone else! or… or what if I just don’t tell her? Maybe we’ll still be friends! but, but I don’t want us to be friends forever!” Bob rambled like his life depended on it, he began sweating profusely and takes a seat at the edge of the couch, making sure you weren’t disturbed of your slumber.

“You tried giving her the knitted flowers we made? We sprayed that with your cologne, right?” Yelena blurts out again, she says while showing the photo of the knitted flower inspiration they got from Pinterest.

“Did you try serenading her? Women in my days love it when they’re being serenaded or asked to dance.” Bucky adds.

“Have you tried telling her that you want to go out and grab a cup of tea?” Ava asks and everyone turns to her to look, “what? it works every time!”

Everyone was asking and telling suggestions to Bob, which all things mentioned and suggested by them are all waiting into fruituition. Not that Bob is getting impatient with it, but his attempts bring no good news and he is almost on the brink of giving up.

With everyone talking, he felt a bit overwhelmed, and for them to stop talking, it took you to stir a bit of movement in your sleep—was he thankful for your bodily shift on the couch? yes. but was he scared you might tell him to go away? definitely yes.

Everyone was startled, including himself, when you started mumbling incoherent words in your sleep, Bob freezing into his place when he felt your hand hug his.

“Uh, guys?”

“Please help me up or else I will combust and cry and…just please help me up.” He says pleading, his irises enlarged and his cheeks and neck flush pink.

It’s not that he doesn’t want your warmth in his body, but his sole worry was you pushing him away the moment you wake up. He will do anything and everything just to be held by you, but not like this, when it feels like he’s invading your space as you sleep.

When they helped him up, everyone left with words of affirmation and confidently urges him to tell you how he feels even if you’re in sleep—Alexei even mentioned how one can still hear talk to them while asleep and register the words when you wake up.

As he watches everyone leave the area to do their tasks and the whatnots, he remained in his seat at the edge of the couch where you lay, his fingers gently brush the stray hair that covers your eyes, mumbling to himself of how adorable you are while you sleep.

Bob decided to leave you in your place to do some chores while you sleep. He even hesitated for a while and contemplated whether should he kiss you on the forehead or not, to his surprise, he did so anyways. Bucky and Yelena was lurking at the area, hiding behind the pillars of the tower, watched how he kissed you on your forehead, yet still not shuffle to wake up at the gesture.

but oh boy, little did bob knew that you were already awake when he kissed your forehead.

Bob had grown accustomed to doing chores in the watchtower, he doesn’t complain as he had learned how to enjoy every bits of it—somehow helped him ease his worries and the thought of loneliness in his head too. With the amount of things he had done for the day, he did not notice that the sun is about to slip back to its horizons.

He immediately took his time to freshen up, wear the sweater you had given him when you both went out of your way past eight pm on a weekday to go watch movies in the mall.

Thoughts wandered on his head, thinking about the ways on what to tell you and how to tell you–frustration did keep up with him while giving himself a pep talk about how he should not stutter and create a dead air soon after.

As soon as he’s fully clothed, Bob made his way towards the rooftop and leaned forward against the balcony, watching the sun go down to the horizon, not noticing you had slipped in quietly next to him.

You noticed how he closed his eyes and mumbles something in his breath that only him and by all means, a deity to hear. He smelled like fresh flowers and powder, must’ve been the cologne you suggested he use.

If anything, Bob meant the whole world toy ou, as you mean the world to him.

“Oh! Uh—hi. I didn’t notice y-you were here.” He says, slowly mustering up the courage to tell you how he feels about you.

“They told me I’d find you here this time. I kept looking for you as soon as I woke up.”

Those words meant everything to Bob, he felt something at the pit of his stomach, trying so hard not to utter even a squeal.

“I need to tell you something, and it’s–it’s okay if you won’t take it, alright?” you told bob, and he doesn’t have no idea on what it is yet he wanted to jump out of where he stood. He could not find the words to speak so he simply nodded in response.

You slowly lifted your hands to cup bob’s cheeks, leaning against your touch while he kept his on you. You kept your gaze on his eyes, it was the perfect shade of blue and you’d be willing enough to get drunk on those orbs.

“I need you to promise me you won’t walk away after.”

In his head, Bob wonders why, asking so many questions and thinking about the possible things you might tell him. Have you finally set your heart to someone else? Someone better than him? Will you leave the tower because of him?

He was cut off of his train of thoughts when you planted a soft kiss on his lips, he was tense at first—not really registering what’s going yet. Soon enough, his hands trailed down your waist, pulling you closer to him, seemingly not wanting to let you go, nor stop the kiss.

His lips moved in sync with you like it was made solely to kiss yours perfectly. Nothing about kissing you felt rushed to him, it felt like he is floating under a bed of clouds. His lips elicit a soft whine the moment you pulled away from the kiss—yet him? Oh, you can describe bob as the most beautiful thing you have ever laid your eyes on. The lasting rays of the setting sun kissed his skin perfectly like the gods have decided it is time for you to see him the way he is meant to be seen for as long as he had lived.

And for Bob? Oh god, to him, you were his everything. Everything he had yearned and asked for, you embodied everything he wishes to love—to feel love.

“I…I loved you the first time I met you, outside the tower when you greeted the cat hello,” Bob says softly, his eyes wander around your features like he wanted to bore them in his memory.

“I love you not because you’re hot—I mean you are hot, but, I love you because of the way you made me realize I have so much love to give and share. I have so much love still in me that I could look past my flaws and embrace them for what they are. I love you because you made me realize I am capable of loving this way.”

His confession came right out, your eyes glassy and lips curling into a small pout as you listened to him. His emotions raw and true, and you can tell it by the way he looks and holds you ever so gently.

“I love you because you make me happy, and I hope by any means, I make you happy too.”

You hugged Bob and peppered kisses at every inch of his face gently—smiling widely, almost showcasing the crescents in your eyes.

“By all means, you make me happy in the simplest ways possible—even your smallest gestures. and everyday, I only ponder how I could give you the love you deserve, that we both deserve. I love you in the simplest days, and I love you even more at every gaze we slip past each other unknowingly.”

Bob’s lips curled into a soft smile, hugging and placing a kiss on your temple before rocking you back and forth. He heaves a sigh of relief rests his chin your shoulder.

“I’m not entirely religious but tonight, I asked God a favor.” Bob mumbles softly, a chuckle soon escaped his lips as he held you close to his body.

“Oh yeah? what was it?”

“If things go south, I want Him to make you happy, even if it means you won’t be happy with me.”

Those words slipped out of his lips like a sacred scripture, meaning everything he says from that moment on while he kept his warmth close to you. You and Bob have kept your stance on the rooftop, watching the bustling city below you and how the crimson in the sky had shifted into a much more serene shade of blue, littered with glimmering clusters of stars just above your heads.

If happiness needs a tangible evidence to prove its existence, he knew where to go and who to choose, and that will always be you no matter what.

[miaoua3]

Is this where we request? I’m still new to this app lol. Pero may I request a smut Minghao? The smuttier the better. Surprise me with any story line ^_^ I trust your writing hehe

yes this is where you request it😭 and its all good, happy to have received your request! and ofc you can, hope you like this!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Keep Quiet.

•Pairing: bf! minghao x f!reader

•Genre: shameless smut (MDNI), fingering, voyeurism, unprotected sex, dirty talking, angry sex, minimal foreplay, slight degradation, bathroom sex, quick fuck, spit…play? idk i def mentioned the word waaay too often in such a short story lmao, slight angst (well, maybe even more than slight angst)

•Description: one minor fight with your boyfriend has you acting like he doesn’t exist, ignoring him to your best efforts, despite you two being out in public with your friends. minghao knows a great way to make you pay attention to him again.

•Notes: writing this before i even wrote the story and i can already tell it’s gonna be a banger lmao (post writing update: i made it angsty🧍‍♀️ffs i hate whenever im on my period and get all emotional)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

you nod your head in fake cheerfulness to whatever seungkwan was saying to you, trying your hardest not to let it show that your boyfriend has his hand in your panties and his fingers almost inside your pussy right underneath the table.

it was so stupid, the whole thing-the fight, the words you both said in the heat of anger, the purposeful ignoring on your behalf, and finally the fingering under the table while all of your members are sat there on his behalf.

now that you try to think about it, the details about the whole thing seem to be gone from your head. but that just might be because minghao literally has his fingers inside you.

thankfully, everyone redirects their conversations, leaving you and hao alone for a minute. immediately grabbing his hand, you grit through your teeth in warning.

“take. your hand. out. of my underwear. now.”

minghao just leans in closer to you before he hotly whispers right into your ear “maybe if you weren’t such a little brat earlier, i wouldn’t have to have my hand inside your needy cunt to get your attention.”

you finally look him directly in the eyes for the first time since this morning, eyes burning with fire. if the fire is from anger or from neediness? who knows.

hao smirks at you, but not the kind that you find hot and sexy-the kind that is cocky, the kind that is indirectly telling you “i won”, the kind that is so condescending and outright insulting to your ego.

his fingers spread your folds open, the contact with the cold air making shivers appear all over your skin. his middle finger then gently runs up and down your entrance, your precum already gathering on the tip of his finger simply with that one move. he then uses the same finger to ever so lightly flick your clit, and it feels so good that you have to bite your lip to keep yourself quiet.

hao’s voice distracts you for a moment, his warm breath hitting the shell of your ear as he hotly whispers “if you hate it so much, and if you want me to stop, why are you so wet? hm? why is your slutty little pussy so wet from one little touch? don’t tell me-“ he stops in the name of mockingly chuckling before he continues, “don’t tell me you are into this? getting discovered by them, letting them see just what a slut you are-letting me finger you under the table. poor seungkwan-he probably didn’t even realise that you didn’t pay attention to anything he said, too distracted by being a little whore for my fingers.”

nervously looking around the table, you confirm that no one is paying attention to you two. still, the whole thing makes you feel nervous. as hot as this feels somewhere in the back of your fucked up mind, the idea of you two getting discovered makes you panic and it cuts your enjoyment in half.

almost like he can sense that he’s slowly losing you to your anxieties, he orders you in his deep voice.

“bathroom. now. wait for me there.”

you didn’t have to be told twice.

after a few minutes of nervously walking around the bathroom, you finally hear the door open and close quickly, hao’s expert fingers quickly locking the door, all while his eyes are solely focused on you.

in two big strides, you two meet each other half way, immediately kissing each other messily. you feel his saliva get all over your lips and chin, hands groping your body all over-from squeezing your neck, to squeezing and spanking your ass so hard under the skirt of your dress, you almost end up screaming.

before you know it, he’s quickly walking you towards the sink, hands quickly turning you around before bending you over the cold marble. you gasp at how quickly it all happens, hands slamming against the mirror.

you stare at the reflection, your fucked out face staring right back at you, lips still wet from his kisses, eyes hazy. behind you, you see minghao staring right back at you, hands working on quickly unzipping his pants.

as he’s taking his cock out of his pants, he angrily asks “you don’t want to pay attention to me?” before he’s quickly slamming inside your pussy, the quick movement making your walls burn at the sudden stretch. you moan through a gasp, watching as he bends over as well, his chest coming in contact with your back as he wraps a skill-full hand around your neck.

staring at your eyes through the mirror, he orders you “then don’t. only look at yourself.” before he starts basically hammering his hips into your own.

the pace he sets from the start has you seeing stars, you own eyes focusing on your reflexion in the mirror per his order.

the sight has you blushing-eyes teary, mouth open as moans freely spill out of them, saliva almost dripping out as you don’t have the strength to close them so you can swallow it down.

his hand cutting out basically all the air to your lungs, veins popping out due to the force he has to use.

you want to look at him, you want to look at him so badly, but you know that if you do, that the damage will be fatal for your pussy you. so, you keep on watching yourself, the way your whole body moves from the sheer force of his moves.

his dick is merciless-your walls still trying to get used to his girth while he’s fucking you with quick snaps of hips. the way his thickness is spreading you, better yet-splitting you open is messing with your head. you already know that you will walk funny later, but for now you settle on just letting you two get all the emotions out of your system.

quicker than you’d expect it, hao drops his other hand between your legs to quickly rub your clit. normally, you would be thrilled at this part, but something about how quickly he started doing it, not even 5 minutes of you two fucking, it makes you feel…weird. almost like he’s just trying to make you cum for the sake of you just cumming, not because he actually wants you to feel good and because he cares about your own enjoyment.

you distinctly hear his voice talk hotly in your ear, but you can register what exactly. before you know it, you feel your pussy squeeze around his cock, milking his own orgasm out of him pretty quickly.

the whole thing lasted all but a few minutes, and it feels almost…anticlimactic.

you two stay in your positions for a few seconds, breathing heavily due to the nature of your activities.

but then, before you can even react, you feel his body retreat from your own, quickly dressing himself up and tidying up his appearance.

but most importantly, he didn’t do it.

he didn’t kiss you-your lips or cheek, whatever is closer to him, and he didn’t say it. didn’t say ‘i love you’, like he always did.

something in your stomach drops, shame quickly coming to haunt you.

you immediately get up to your height and start getting dressed, both of you staying silent as you do so.

hao is thinking his words over, lips being bitten as he’s contemplating on how to resolve this problem.

to be honest, he hated this. this whole thing. he didn’t recognise his own actions, the way he acted so heartless towards you…it made him feel sick.

this wasn’t right.

no matter how high your emotions are, he should never stoop so low as to fuck simply out of anger.

he wasn’t supposed to make you feel or think like he hates you through his actions. he was supposed to make you feel loved, and appreciated. at best, he should’ve talked to you about the problem before he did anything of the sexual nature. but he was so desperate to make you look at him, to have you finally pay attention to him, that he didn’t know what to do other than to do what he did.

just as he was about to apologise to you and ask if you wanted to talk this whole situation out, a single sniffle broke out in the otherwise quiet bathroom.

hao’s head immediately snapped to you, panic hitting him like a wave during a storm. in two quick strides, he comes to stand before you only to see you looking down at the floor with tears streaming down your face as your shaky hands tried straightening the wrinkles out.

his hands immediately come to gently hold your cheeks as he asks “love what’s wrong? fuck, i ruined it all, didn’t i? i am so sorry baby, i don’t what came over me, i just thought-“

but before he can continue, you let yourself just fall into his arms, hands grabbing the back of his shirt as you hug him to yourself.

he immediately hugs you right back as he listens to your small sobs escape you, lips kissing the top of your head as countless “i’m sorry’s” slip out of his mouth.

ever so quietly, he hears you say “y-you didn’t say it.”

hao looks puzzled straight ahead of him, softly asking you “said what baby?”

through a broken inhale, you add “you didn’t sa-say ‘i love you’.”

his heart immediately drops from his chest ti the floor, realising that he forgot to say it due to the inner turmoil going on in his mind.

immediately pushing you back a bit, he sincerely yet heartbrokenly says “of course i love you, my love. how could i not? you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. i live to feel your love and to make you feel loved. and i’m so sorry if i ever made you feel otherwise, love.” he pauses for a second as he wipes your tears away, his own having to be blinked away as he looks at your heartbroken expression. “of course i love you. you are my first, greatest and last love. you are the only one for me.”

emotionally due to his words, you immediately prop yourself on tippy toes in the name of kissing him passionately yet slowly.

with no hesitation, minghao kisses you right back.

and with the kiss, you finally get the confirmation.

confirmation that even when you two are facing the troubles, it will always be you and him against the world.

confirmation that no one in this world could love you like he does.

[tmpestuous]

illicit affairs

summary: you’re bucky’s campaign manager. but he wants you all to himself.

pairing: (future)congressman!bucky x campaign manager!reader

warnings: smut (18+, fingering); mentions of anxiety, fluffy if you slightly squint

word count: 3.8k

a/n: i’m back! i’ve decided to make this a miniseries so i don’t have to deal with the commitment of a whole series again yet. this chapter is set before bucky is elected. also, i’ve been so back in my marvel obsession that i’ve expanded on some new york marvel lore that marvel studios clearly won’t do themselves </3 i hope you enjoy! apologies once again for the hiatus!

“Your numbers in the polls are doing much better, leading your opponent by 12 points; early exit polls from early voting are showing a lead of 7 points, and voters seem really ecstatic to vote for you which is a huge turnaround from the beginning of this election cycle.”

Bucky looked at you from his seat at his desk, a hint of admiration behind his gaze as you met your eyes with his. “Is that all?”

You looked back down at your notes, revising them one more time. “For now,” you said while nodding, then returning your attention to Bucky’s stare. Ignoring the heat in your cheeks, you gave him a confident grin. “I think we’re gonna win this.”

“And I,” Bucky started his sentence as he got up and made his way over to stand right in front of you, “couldn’t have done a single bit of it without you.”

Being part of Bucky Barnes’s political campaign for his bid in the U.S. House of Representatives has been nothing short of a whirlwind. It’s not that you’ve ever been apolitical; you’ve actually been quite the opposite given your family’s consistent involvement in politics. Your parents both worked as advisors in different government agencies, your father actually having a stint with SHIELD long before their ultimate demise at the hands of Hydra. 

Nonetheless, your interest in politics never seemed to push you into entering the scene itself. Having the knowledge was great; you were far ahead of your peers in university classes and weren’t susceptible to the growing craze of news outlets in a post-Avengers world. But you never desired to get into politics, much less as the campaign manager to James Buchanan Barnes. His campaign, however, intrigued you from the start.

Many people, especially in New York, do not forget the impact vigilantes and their world have on their lives as civilians. Not all of us are given mutant powers, super soldier serums, or involuntary training to become an assassin. Not all of us have the ability to be Avengers or associated with the like, and unfortunately for New York City, it’s seen days worse than just ugly. When everyone thought the Chitauri invasion was the worst the city could see, half of the population was snapped and turned New York into a ghost town. A once bustling city that indeed never slept, completely silent and left with a void that seemingly couldn’t be replaced. 

Once everyone came back, the world was forced to rebuild. New York’s homeless population was increasing exponentially, crime was on the rise, and the Avengers were nowhere to be found. Of course, you had your solo heroes, like Spider-Man and Daredevil. Then they were seemingly gone too, more preoccupied with what they dealt with outside of their masks and costumes than the looming threats over the city.

As soon as Fisk was predicted to win the election as Mayor, his poll numbers more than indicative of a clear sweep at the voting booth, your hope for the city was dwindling. You knew he meant no good, and having political power would only amplify that. The media seemed to disagree, though in the same vain, trashed Bucky Barnes for thinking he could run for the House. 

It was idiotic, really. A man who had no choice in his past, a man who was pardoned, is out of his depth for thinking he could run for Congress, but the notorious criminal is the answer to the city’s problems. Yeah, fucking right.

From that point, you’d decided to make your attempt at joining Bucky’s campaign. You wanted to do simple canvassing: knocking on doors and spreading the message of Bucky’s campaign. 

You spent about a week and half knocking on doors in the congressional district Bucky was aiming to represent. You’d even convinced maybe two handfuls of people to vote for him, earning praise from the team leads. You quickly became one of the campaign’s most valuable canvassers, but your position only propelled at a meeting with everyone working in the campaign office, Bucky making a rare appearance.

Bucky was never very conversational, clearly a more-than-reserved man, probably running for office to channel his desire to do good in ways other than vigilantism. 

It was no secret that the public’s opinion on vigilantes was mixed, especially in New York. The frontrunner for the mayoral election hates them and he’s killing the polls for crying out loud. But the city never felt as scary when the Avengers were around. Sure, the usual destruction of downtown Manhattan was an insane circumstance to consider for your morning commute. However, you knew you’d most likely make it home at night. If you got into trouble, you could hope that someone was coming. Where is that feeling now?

When talking to the room, Bucky expressed gratitude for everyone’s interest in his campaign. Ultimately, he wasn’t shy to mention the negative attention on his attempt for the House seat, which took you by surprise. 

“They’re not expecting me to win, and, if I’m being honest, I wasn’t expecting to win either.” That earned him a few laughs, but you could tell he was being mostly serious. “I need some help. If anyone wants to offer some ideas, I’m all ears.”

“I think you need to be more relatable!” Someone shouted.

“More fundraising!”

“Have a town hall!”

“Why not just be more of yourself?” You said in a tone loud enough for him to hear and turn his attention to you, but not shouting like everyone else.

“What do you mean?” He asked sincerely.

“The people don’t really know much about you outside of your service alongside Steve Rogers and, of course, your time as… well, the Winter Soldier.” You were honest, which earned you some stares and glares, no one wanting to mention the elephant in the room that didn’t have to be one at all. 

“Go on,” Bucky encouraged.

“It’s either you’re depicted as the past that you’ve worked so hard to make up for,” you alluded to his Winter Soldier days, which he didn’t seem as fazed by as you thought, “or you’re depicted as Steve Rogers’s best friend who faced tragedy during the war. Hell, you could even be depicted as Sam Wilson’s best friend. But the people don’t know you. It’s about relatability, yes, but it’s also humanization. Separating you from what everyone already knows about you. Who is Bucky Barnes? Insert the quote about people wanting to vote for someone they feel they can have a beer with.”

Speechless at (what seemed to be) your clear read on him, his gaze shifted to one of admiration. “You’re hired.”

“I’m sorry?”

“My campaign manager,” he corrected your confusion. “I want it to be you. Come with me to my office.”

After sending everyone back to their desks to finish their tasks for the day, Bucky led you to his office at the campaign headquarters. 

“So you’re telling me you’ve been at this for months and didn’t have a campaign manager?” You asked, an incredulous tone in your voice.

“She quit.”

“Oh.”

He turned to you, his back previously facing you, and leaned on his desk with his hands lightly gripping the ends. The light in his office was dim, but it still bounced off of his metal arm beautifully. You’d always thought the vibranium arm was a better look for him.

“I need to win this election,” Bucky broke the ice. “I think you can help me do that.”

“Well first, we need to fix… that.”

“Fix what?” He asked, his brows furrowed and a clear sass in his tone.

“You’re not really a man of many words.”

“Never have been.”

“I find that hard to believe,” you tested. “Does Sam Wilson get a lot of words out of you?”

He scoffed playfully. “No.”

You stared at him silently, your eyes slightly squinted.

He shook his head, a playfully defeated grin on his face. “Fine. Sometimes.”

With a smirk on your face in return, you pulled out a notepad from your bag. “Let’s channel some of that Bucky, hm?”

From there, you dove headfirst into fixing Bucky’s campaign. Between scheduling fundraisers, charity appearances, town halls, several advertisements (including a hilarious one with Sam endorsing him), and endorsements from current Congresspeople. 

In just a few weeks, Bucky’s campaign had done a complete 180. The media changed their coverage of him entirely, and you did so without compromising his personality and trying to turn him into America’s golden boy, like his previous campaign manager.

“I’m very grateful for you,” Bucky continued. “I don’t know how I’m gonna do it, but—”

“Don’t rush it,” you cut him off. “We still have an election to win and it’s still very early.”

Bucky nodded in understanding. “Something tells me you’re not worried, though.”

“I’m not,” you said, the same smirk from before appearing on your face. “Numbers don’t lie, Barnes.”

————————————————————————————

One Week Until Election Day

There was a line between professional and personal. It was clear. Never mix your professional life with your personal life beyond a reasonable amount. That couldn’t be hard, right?

Except when you’re working with—for Bucky Barnes who’s clearly gotten a bit of his 40s charm back in the last few years. 

You both enjoyed each other’s company. Bucky’s grumpy nature somewhat crumbled near you. Although you couldn’t completely break through it, you loved that part of him. He, on the opposite end, admired your wit, your knowledge and your wisdom that went well beyond your years. You shocked him with so many facts about history and he’s 110. You were a gem, the first person he’d actually opened up to after losing Steve besides Sam. And not once did you ever judge him.

But there was a line. It was clear, but fuck, is it now slowly starting to blur. 

“What are you doing later?” Bucky asked as he hesitantly placed his hands on your waist which you quickly swatted away.

“We’re at work, Bucky,” you warned, your attention still fixed on the list of tasks you needed to complete before Election Day in a week. “Someone could catch us.”

Bucky sat at his desk, loosening his tie. “The day’s over. It’s just you and me.”

“It is never just you and me here,” you corrected. “There are still canvassers and volunteers who have to make their way back to the office and collect their things. I have to hear back from the pollsters for our daily numbers, specifically from early exit polls, and then get in contact with media coordination to make sure that nobody’s pulled a quick one on you. I also need you to approve the last batch of ads to go out this week. It’s crunch time.”

“You’re insanely hot when you boss me around,” Bucky said as he undid the top button of his dress shirt, earning him an annoyed glare from you that he chuckled at. “I’m messing with you, although I wasn’t lying. You are gorgeous.”

“I’m flattered,” you said sarcastically. “I also don’t have any plans for tonight, to answer your question. It is a Tuesday.”

Bucky didn’t say anything as he studied your presence, soaking it all in. The furrow of your brows as you studied your to-do list, the way you bit the inside of your cheek absentmindedly whenever you were focused. 

He wasn’t lying. You are beautiful. Every piece of you.

Messing around with his campaign manager has the potential to raise so many alarm bells. After finally having the media and general public on his side—a result of your efforts—he couldn’t risk it. 

But the line was so easy to cross. 

Nothing had necessarily been romantic between the two of you, but you had gotten pretty damn close. 

There was a graze of each other’s hands, a gaze into each other’s eyes that lasted longer than it needed to, and a subtle glance at each other’s lips. There were late nights in the office, with takeout from Bucky’s favorite Chinese place and anecdotes from each other’s lives. There was a shared comfort between you that not only made you both feel at home, but a magnetic pull that was near impossible to ignore or fight. 

“No response, huh?” You turned your attention to Bucky, who you found staring at you. “Not even a slick remark? One of those sarcastic, grumpy quips of yours?”

“I am not grumpy,” he retorted.

“Could’ve fooled me,” you said with a giggle. God, he loved this side of you. “What are your plans for tonight?”

“Um,” he shrugged, moving his gaze to the traffic outside the window. “I don’t know. My campaign manager yelled at me about approving some ads.”

“I didn’t yell,” you defended yourself, moving to the other side of the desk where Bucky was. Sitting on the desk, you stared at the man to your right. “Why’d you decide to run?”

“Surprised it took you this long to ask,” he said, his head turning away from the window.

“My job doesn’t entail prying for unnecessary information,” you shrugged. “Just curious.”

Bucky chuckled, flashing that beautiful grin of his.

His decision to make a move for office was an amalgamation of things. After Sam had officially taken on the mantle of Captain America, Bucky had settled into more of civilian life. It was weird, not having a mission to accomplish. After fighting for several decades, being a regular person almost bothered him. 

Antsy, was how he described it to Sam, who had offered him tons of help that Bucky never took. He felt bad trying to get some work from his friend, though Sam never minded. With all of the resources at his disposal, he knew Bucky would be of great assistance. The brooding brunette, however, felt that maybe he needed to change his direction.

Eventually, seeing the struggles of the people in his neighborhood made him want a more grounded approach. There isn’t much help in the city since the Avengers have been gone, but fighting the bad guys with his fists was something Bucky wasn’t trying to do. Seeing Sam with government resources also gave him the idea, but searching for a different form of access. He can help the people in a non-destructive way, feeling better about himself and fighting the good fight.

“Needed a different approach to help people,” he admitted after gathering his thoughts. 

“Vigilante life not enough?”

“I never really considered myself a vigilante,” Bucky shrugged. “Didn’t do much work after the words were out of my head.”

“Didn’t you help Captain America stop the whole Flag Smashers thing?”

“I give him the credit for it,” he said sincerely. “He was meant to be a hero. Meant to have the shield.”

“You’re a hero too, you know,” you assured, offering Bucky a soft smile. “You just have different fights. Different paths, too.”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah. Maybe.”

Sam did have a different fight, but he’s built for it. Bucky was finally starting to be more forgiving of himself—of his past—and in a much better state of mind than years prior. He just didn’t need to fight with his hands. He didn’t need to create any more possibilities of destruction and violence. He wanted to help people in a way that felt more valuable. This was it.

————————————————————————————

Election Night

The polls close in an hour and a half, and Bucky’s leading by a decent margin to keep your (and his) anxiety at bay. 

It was at the point in the evening where all everyone could do was wait. Everyone who’s worked on this campaign has dedicated countless hours to pushing Bucky’s message. Though he is still not a man of many words, people weirdly admired him. The advertising did its job. 

Getting Bucky elected didn’t mean changing him. It didn’t mean forcing him to become a talkative extrovert that he was most certainly not. There was plenty to work with, and from the looks of it, success was in the cards. 

You looked over to Bucky through the doorway to his office. His eyes were glued to the computer screen, his usual contemplative stare adorning his face once again. Everyone had voted early in the morning when the polls had just opened, including Bucky. Since then, it’s been a waiting game.

“Feels weird voting for the first time in decades.”

After walking out of the voting location together, Bucky took you to get some breakfast at his favorite cafe.

“Who was the last person you voted for?” You said after taking a small sip of your coffee.

“Um,” he thought for a second. “Yeah. Roosevelt, 1944. Not even sure if my ballot counted during the war, but I filled it out.”

“That’s so crazy,” you giggled.

“What?”

“You voted for fucking FDR,” you exclaimed in a whisper, almost like a secret. “That’s so crazy to think of.”

Bucky chuckled, taking a sip of his own coffee with a roll of his eyes.

He was hiding it better this morning, but Bucky’s anxiety was almost palpable. He wasn’t anxious about winning, oddly enough. Sam had called him in the morning to wish him luck, not without a quick joke about him having to talk about more people. Bucky quieted his best friend’s contagious laughter with a confident voice, one he’d recently found with this campaign and your help. 

He knew he had this election in his pocket. It was a weird feeling, such confidence in himself. He was probably the biggest pessimist he knew, yet he felt a sense of serenity. 

The anxiety came with the waiting, the analysis of what kind of representative he’d be, what things he’d accomplish. Oh, and actually doing the fucking job.

What if his constituents ended up hating him, or protesting against him, or cussing him out in a town hall? He doesn’t do well with people, even though he had convinced himself he could become more talkative, more likeable. You had convinced him of that. Without wanting to change him, you helped him feel better about himself and what you called his ‘marketability’. 

And now he was going to win. Because of you.

“If you stare at that computer screen any longer, you might actually burn a hole through it.”

Bucky quickly looked up at you, a cocky grin on your face while you stood in the doorway with your arms crossed on your chest. 

“This is excruciating,” Bucky shut the computer, a grimace on his face.

“What happened to feeling good about today?” You said, closing his office door.

“I think I overestimated myself,” Bucky shook his head. “What if I’m not right for this at all?”

“You told me you were running because you wanted to help people,” you took a seat on the same spot of his desk where you were when you had said conversation. “That’s better than almost all people who run these days. Everything is about some kind of agenda that is self-serving and ends up hurting people more than helping them. You want to help them directly, even when you already have all of the means to do it. That’s more than enough to be right for it.”

“Shit, maybe you should have been the candidate.”

You giggled. “Shut up. You’ve got this. I know it.”

Staring at each other for a moment, Bucky placed his metal hand on yours. This was as far as you’d ever gone, neither of you initiating contact that clearly meant more than what meets the eye. 

“I meant it when I said I couldn’t have done this without you,” Bucky stood from his seat to stand right in front of you, his face mere inches from yours. “I probably would’ve dropped out by now.”

You smirked again, shaking your head. “I don’t think Sam would let you live that one down.”

“You’re right, and I hate when he’s right.”

Another brief pause, letting you get lost in each other’s eyes for a moment before you let yours drift to the clock in the corner of the room.

“Polls close in 20 minutes,” you said, but Bucky could only stare at your lips. 

Deciding he couldn’t wait any longer, he cupped your face in his hands, grabbing your attention.

“Is this okay?” He asked without hesitation, searching for a glimpse of rejection in your eyes, like he was expecting it.

Taking a quick glance at his lips before returning your gaze to his ocean-colored eyes, you gave him a quick nod. “It’s okay.”

Every late night, private one-on-one meetings to debrief events, planning Bucky’s appearances, Bucky learning all of your work habits, and each shared anecdote that only brought you closer. 

That line between professional and personal—there was no line anymore. Fuck the stupid fucking line.

Closing the short gap between you, Bucky planted his lips on yours, kissing you with a longing passion that both of you recognized had been brewing over the course of this campaign.

Bucky quickly undid the button and zipper of your slacks, he didn’t think he’d find fucking slacks attractive. Swiftly sliding his right hand past your underwear and rubbing circles on your clit, Bucky moved his kisses from your mouth to across your jaw and down your neck. You let out hard exhales, trying not to moan with the entire campaign staff right outside.

Bucky lifted his head to look down at you, then resting his forehead against yours as he proudly watched you squirm on his hand. You bit down on your lip as he slid two fingers inside of you, whimpering softly as you tried not to make much noise, but couldn’t stifle your pleasure any longer.

“Fuck, look at you falling apart for me,” Bucky whispered, his fingers getting faster with each thrust. “This is only my first thank-you, sweet girl. You deserve even more than this but I can’t feel those sweet walls around my cock with everyone outside, hm? So this’ll do, right?”

“Fuck yes, Bucky,” you moaned out, the sultry tone of his voice only pushing you toward your climax. “I’m so close.”

“Cum for me, baby,” he said before he kissed you again, curling his fingers inside of you, quickly making you shudder in pleasure as he helped you ride out your orgasm. “You’re so pretty.”

“Holy shit,” you breathed out after coming down from your high, Bucky retreating his fingers and licking them in front of you. “You’re a vice.”

He chuckled, just as everyone erupted in cheers outside. Bucky quickly opened up his computer, typing his password in while you buttoned and zipped up your pants. His last opened tab was one tracking the election results, and with polls closing in less than 10 minutes, the outlets were already making their conclusions.

Projected Winner — 10th Congressional District of New York: James Barnes

You smiled at the screen before looking at Bucky, who stared at the same screen in disbelief.

“We actually did it.”

You turned his face towards yours, planting another soft kiss on his lips.

“Congratulations, Congressman Barnes.”

—

A/N: stay on the lookout for the second and third part (while bucky is in congress and when he is out of congress — iykyk). i hope you enjoyed!

[bidisasterevankinard]

Ravi the matchmaker

based on this and for @thecarrott who loved it

Ravi fixes his shirt, loving that Buck and Tommy decided to semi-formal style for their wedding and he didn’t need to sweat in a hot uncomfortable suit, staying near Buck and watching Tommy cry, when Buck said ‘I do’.

And now time for his best man’s speech.

“Ladies and gentlemens, for those little who don’t know me, I'm Ravi. Once I was a probie who was trained by Buck and now we’re partners on heavy rescue. But the reason I was chosen by Buck is not just it. You see Chim, as he said, was the reason this couple whose love we celebrate today,” Ravi raises his glass to shit grinning Buck and Tommy whose two pairs of  bright and happy eyes, but red from a lot of happy tears, “met almost three years ago. And I,” Ravi proudly smiles. “was the reason they,” Ravi looks at kids, “hang out one night and leave each other wanting more and pining with the idea that it’s not done yet,” everyone laughs.

Then Ravi blushes, sending hate look at the Buck, “but I also the reason they got back together. And even though without me they’d be pining for god knows how long, they still with another best man bullied me into telling you the whole story. So prepare to laugh. And remember I had a lot of tequila in me thanks to one Evan Buckley… Sorry Buckley-Kinard. ”

-

Two years ago

“And that is h-h’w Hen and Karen’ found the way to each other again…” Chim hiccups, “and here we are,” he makes fake bows when Eddie starts applauding.

Ravi smiles at the happy couple, hoping to one day be as happy as them. It’s sweet to know you’re so loved.

But Ravi sees how the smile on one face doesn’t reach the eyes of one person who tries hard to hide it. Buck. The person who got really quiet during the whole story, looking lost, and taking two more shots, as if trying to get away from something.

Ravi knows from what. He saw Buck look at Tommy’s number during the night several times. All the time closing the contact information, before opening it up again.

That won’t do it. Ravi saw them together, listening to Buck talking about Tommy and saw the way Tommy smiled when he saw Buck that night in the bar weeks ago.

If those old schoolers won’t grow up and talk, it seems Rvai had to make them.

“Hey, Buck, my phone’s dead. Is that ok if I’ll call my sister to come and get me?”

Man just nods, opening up his phone, and Ravi smiles at him, patting his shoulder.

“Thanks, man you’re the best.”

Ravi doesn’t sway when he’s walking. But just barely. Two or three last shots were too much. But Buck paid, so it’s fine.

Quickly making sure Ravi’s alone outside, he opens the phone, finding the number he needs.

Please, don’t be on shift

“‘Van?” a sleepy voice answers, “what’s wrong?”

“Tommy, it’s Ravi,” Ravi makes his best sad voice, but then thinks that it’s unfair to say ‘it’ to Tommy even for a second. He can’t say that Buck’s dead. Not even for a moment to get them back together. What if it’ll break Tommy’s heart? 

But he needs a plan. And quickly. He remembered Buck’s home screen. Buck holding baby Han, smiling like it was him in labor and now has his baby in his arms.

The lamp bulb brightens up.

“Tommy, Buck’s in labor. It’s yours baby. There were complications. The baby and Buck need you.”

Silence.

Ravi checks that the call is still there.

“Chim told you how he got Hen and Karen back together,” Tommy asks without any sounds of him moving to get here and Ravi feels sad. Doesn’t he love Buck even a little bit?

“Yes.”

“And how much tequila did you have?”

“Much.”

“Yeah, I figured. But you had this bright idea on your drunk head. I was mentally building the crib for a second on a sober one.”

“I don’t see what’s wrong with my plan,” Ravi pouts. It was a good plan if only he remembered that Tommy was around when Chim did it to Hen and Karen.

“Ravi,” Tommy seems to try and control his laugh, “Evan is cis man. He can’t get pregnant even if I’d give my best shot,” Ravi’s pretty sure he hears the whisper ‘and god did I give it my best shot’.

Blinking, Ravi feels like wires that tequila unplugged in his head are plugged back. He can’t stop himself from laughing too loud.

“Oh fuck. Please can you not tell anyone?”

“Nuh, Ravi, sorry, when Evan tomorrow will ask me what made me come and talk with him, I’ll tell him the truth. But I promise to keep it from Chim till the wedding.”

Ravi can live with it.

“Wait, you will talk to Buck?”

He hears a deep exhale that sounds too hopeful.

“You wouldn’t try and matchmake us if there was nothing for me to hope about, so yes. I’ll talk to him. Now go and give Evan his phone back. And delete this phone call.”

“Yes! Good luck, Tommy.”

Ravi does as he’s told, deleting the call history and then calling his sister, faking to everyone that she was not answering the number for a while.

Buck🦌

Next evening he has the new texts sitting in his notifications.

Thanks, Rav❤️

You can’t imagine what it means to me

Even if I can’t believe you said Tommy that I was in labor 🤣

-

Everyone in the room laughs too loud and Ravi can’t feel bad because that evening might have actually never happened or happened not soon enough if he didn't.

And he definitely is ok with some other people's jokes because it’s him who is going to be the godfather of baby girl Buckley-Kinard that is expected to be born next month.

He’s sure he and Skylar Robbie are going to be huge friends.

[joequiinn]

It Goes Away | b.r. x reader

Summary | Therapists always warned against befriending other addicts. Yet, no one else in the world could understand quite like those who had lived the same shit as you.

Warnings, Tropes, Themes | fem reader, hurt/comfort, mentions of past addiction and recovery, group therapy, Bob and reader being awkward, Bob continues to trauma bond with others, spoilers for Thunderbolts*

Author's Note | I've edited this fic nonstop the past week and a half and my brain is totally fried, so bone apple tea lol. I hope I did Bob's characterization justice, and that this idea makes sense to anyone else; I was really compelled to explore more of Bob's grief, so here we are. I've only seen the movie once so far, so I'm going purely off memory here. (Song title and lyrics from the band Atta Boy 😉)

WC | 14.3k (whoops this was supposed to be short)

!!! MINOR DNI !!!

Looking for a pot of gold / Or just some good advice Halls and stairs, you've never seen / True paradise You wake, your hands are numb / It must have been a dream Her heart beats harmlessly / Despite how it may seem

Group therapy wasn’t so bad once you got used to it. Sure, spilling your guts to a bunch of strangers felt like its own brand of torture when you first started attending, but you came to appreciate the camaraderie, the connections forged amongst people struggling with life much like you. Misery enjoys company, or however the hell that saying goes.

The group was a good bunch, and its familiarity gave your weeks a stability you hadn’t realized you needed before. Along your own journey full of stumbles and blocks, you’d found a sense of direction thanks to these therapy sessions; you secretly hoped that, with enough time and practice, you could maybe be a sponsor for other recovering addicts eventually. You weren’t sure if you personally had the means to do more than that, but you discovered in these past couple years that the feeling of helping others was something you’d come to crave. Maybe that was your way of dealing with all the trouble you’d caused through the years, as if you were making amends by being of service.

Some people came and went from your group, but more often than not you saw the same faces over and over, two or three times a week. So, when newcomers appeared, it always piqued your interest - would they join your rag-tag bunch, or would they ditch after only a single meeting? Were they just looking for a safe place to admit all their secrets, or were they seeking some kind of connection?

This usual string of questions began swirling in your mind when the door opened five minutes past the meeting’s start time - an awkward though sweet looking man cringed sheepishly at the attention he drew thanks to his interruption. Everyone stared, though the tension was quickly dispelled once the therapist waved the new arrival in, introducing herself and offering him an open seat in the circle.

He was hesitant while stepping into the room, moving stiffly, an apologetic look in his eyes, like he felt he was taking up too much time and attention. It was obvious how out of place he felt, his arms crossed in front of him like a shield, eyes cast down as if to make himself appear smaller. For the most part, the group quickly returned their attention to the person who had been talking prior to the disruption; but you let your gaze linger on the newbie, studying him while trying not to be too obvious.

The tension in his body was palpable; it was like he wasn’t comfortable in his own skin, like he wanted to crawl right out of it, second-guessing his decision to come to this therapy session at all. There was an aura of sadness about him, too, a heavy weight upon his shoulders. But, really, that’s how half the group usually appeared - everyone here was dealing with their own personal brand of pain and regret, and that sort of shit always physically manifested in ways that you learned to recognize. Nonetheless, you were curious what brought him here, what compelled him to take that leap and try something in the hopes that it would help.

Detecting someone staring at him, the man looked around with anxious worry. You tried to divert your gaze quickly, but not before the two of you met eyes for a brief, uncertain moment. Shit, you shouldn’t have been so blatant, the last thing anyone here needed was to be made to feel even more uncomfortable than they surely already were. That was one more thing you had to work on if you ever wanted to be of help to anyone.

From that point, the group carried on as usual - people talked and cried, the therapist gave apt anecdotes, you scoffed at the idea of sharing any of your own stories when prompted. Ironic that you wanted to help others but weren’t all that eager to share in front of everyone, but you much preferred your one-on-one sessions with the therapist instead. You still liked group therapy, you still appreciated it, but you felt as if you didn’t require quite as much attention as some of the other group members right now.

And these past few weeks, it seemed like damn near everyone was in desperate need of some venting. The “black out,” as you’d all taken to calling it, really did a number on the city, especially those of you that were already dealing with some heavy shit.

No one knew what had happened to New York City a month ago. One minute everything was fine, and the next people disappeared into some fucked up nightmare world. The mayor nor any government officials would disclose information about the event, which caused mass upset and panic, considering that some people thought this could possibly be a repeat of the Blip from nearly a decade ago. The only thing anyone knew was that the supposed “New Avengers” saved the day, and everyone was expected to just be cool about it. Color you paranoid, but you didn’t trust what was going on, considering how closed lip everyone was being.

A long-time member of the group was divulging how desperately the black out made him want to toss his sobriety to the wayside when your gaze drifted back towards the newbie.

He looked as if he was trying to make himself as discreet as a shadow, as if this subject was too much for him; you wondered what he saw in that black out, and if he was reliving it somewhere behind those sad eyes. Your brows turned down as you studied the pain in his expression, the irritation in his body language - whatever happened must’ve really gotten to him. Briefly, you recalled your own experience in there - the yelling, the arguing, the anguish, all fresh again like an open wound. Your jaw tightened as you tried to shake yourself free of the memory.

And in that same moment, the new guy met your eyes again, an uneasiness in his expression, as if he knew what you were thinking. This time, you were frozen under his stare, the both of you unblinking as you watched one another. Though you didn’t speak a word, there was a mutual agony between you; not everyone in the group was quite so keenly aware of others’ emotions in the way that this man seemed to be, and all it took was a simple glance between you.

As another person chimed in with their own difficulties during the black out, the newbie redirected his attention, listening intently, though painfully, to the new story as if his life depended on it. You decided to give him reprieve from your watchful gaze, casting your eyes down as you, too, listened to everyone’s stories.

When eventually the group dispersed, you were one of the first out; not because you were in a rush or anything, but you were desperate for a cigarette. Since the black out, you’d been smoking a lot more, as if filling your lungs with toxic air could keep your demons at bay.

You sat out on the front steps of the community center, bidding good night to anyone that acknowledged you as they passed. A few others lingered outside, some chit-chatting over cigarettes of their own, others buying time so they wouldn’t have to go home just yet; you always wondered what some of them had to return to, if anything.

The therapist paused to speak with you for a few moments, reminding you to set aside some time in the week so that the two of you could have a session; you nodded agreeably, knowing that you needed it, before she left for the evening.

You hadn’t seen the new guy come out yet. Not that you were looking for him or anything… It was just an observation. You weren’t really sure what about him made you so curious. Maybe it was the fact that he tried to hide from attention all session, maybe it was the utter air of sadness that hung about him; maybe there was something you saw that reminded you of yourself. As you snuffed out your cigarette, you were of two minds while considering the stranger - one part of you tried to simply forget him, while the other wanted to know more.

So, you stood, dusting off your rear before heading back into the community center, wondering if he was still around or if he had snuck out. You passed other rooms still occupied by book clubs or scout troops, eyes bouncing around observantly; your own meeting room still appeared to have a light on, and you’d be lying if you denied the fact that your steps grew a little faster once you noticed.

Peering through the small window in the door, you sighed upon seeing the man sitting in his chair, gaze far away and expression downcast. He still looked so small and guarded, even as he sat alone; his shoulders were hunched as he slumped forward, hands fisted in front of his mouth. You lingered on the other side of the door, considering whether or not it was appropriate for you to intrude - you understood that sometimes one just wanted to be left alone with their sadness. Yet, some part of you yearned to offer him understanding, again feeling an odd pull towards the stranger. Chalk it up to that desire of yours to help, maybe, and not any other sort of desire within you.

You let yourself into the room before you could second guess the decision, footfall so light that he almost didn’t hear you; you’d always been good at creeping around, whether you meant to or not. It was the door closing behind you that alerted the man to your arrival, the sound causing him to straighten with a start, eyes widening as he quickly wiped at his cheeks for any residual evidence of his sadness. You held up your hands like you were approaching a skittish animal, apology written across your face.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” You started simply, waiting a few moments before you approached, “I, uh… well, I saw that the light was still on, just wanted to see who was here.”

Okay, so that was a lie, but you weren’t sure how to tell this guy that you were looking for him without sounding like a bit of a creep. He stared briefly as if he wasn’t quite sure what to say, though in the next breath he put up a false smile, pretending that everything was fine; it was the kind of look that you had often used on others, too.

“Just me,” he answered, attempting an air of levity that was clearly put on. You nodded noncommittally, and he pointed awkwardly around the room, “Sorry, am I not allowed to stay or…?”

“Oh, no, you can stay, I don’t make the rules,” You scratched at your arm nervously, biting the inside of your cheek in consideration. You weren’t good at small talk, but neither were you good at heart-to-hearts, despite your best efforts. Didn’t exactly bode well for helping others, but that was just something for you to work on. So, throwing caution to the wind, you furrowed your brow decidedly, trying the first thing that came to mind, “You, uh… look like you could use someone to talk to?”

He laughed weakly, uncomfortably, a faux look of surprise on his face, “Who, me? No, I’m totally… fine. Just thought I’d check out the group.”

You nodded with a disbelieving hum, looking around again while deciding to play along for the time being, “Well, I hope our therapy wasn’t too boring for you… What’s your name?”

He looked nearly surprised that you cared enough to ask; or maybe that was trepidation, as if he didn’t trust why you were asking, “Um… Bob.”

“Bob.” You repeated before giving your own name, settling on a new conversation tactic, “Well, Bob… if it isn’t asking too much, I could really use someone to talk to. It’s always kinda difficult being vulnerable in a room full of people. Mind if I sit?”

You weren’t sure whether or not this approach would work, but to be fair, you also weren’t sure what you were trying to accomplish in the first place. Yeah, you were thinking that maybe you could get him to open up a little if you showed some vulnerability first, but considering that this wasn’t an effort you usually made, it felt strange to be doing so at all.

He gave a slow nod, as if still taken aback by your attention, and so you pulled one of the chairs a little closer and plopped down beside him.

“You know, I’ve been coming to this group for nearly two years, but it's still so daunting to even think about sharing,” You started, allowing yourself to simply chatter and see where that would lead you, “I mean, yeah, I’ve talked about some of my problems before, but it doesn’t really get easier when fifteen people are staring back at you. Or maybe I’m just a chicken, some of them come and spill their entire life story without even batting an eye.”

You glanced at Bob, who appeared to be considering how to respond. You continued instead, “I started here because it was either therapy or, uh… time. I used to think this was all pretty stupid, talking about feelings, but it’s really grown on me. Guess talking through problems isn’t as bad as I thought it was.”

Bob’s jaw flexed briefly, eyes bouncing around as if in search of something before he looked you up and down, “‘Time?’ Like jail time? What’d you do?”

You smiled guardedly, shaking your head; couldn’t spill all your secrets yet, “Something I try not to think about. It’s in the past… the black out made that wound pretty fresh again, though.”

He flinched faintly at the mention of it, making you once more wonder at the torment in his reaction. Bob glanced at you from the corner of his eye like he wasn’t sure about looking at you straight on. There was something like sheepishness in the glance, or maybe guilt. You felt your own expression soften, studying him patiently.

“It was pretty bad, wasn’t it?” He asked, hands flexing nervously, “The way everyone talks about it on the news and here…”

“Yeah, pretty bad.” You echoed, brows casting down sympathetically, “Were you in the city when it happened?”

Bob nodded, his eyes getting that far away sheen again as he sucked in his lips thoughtfully, although he still tried to appear unfazed, “Thing is, I don’t really remember. It’s this hazy gap; happens sometimes, I just don’t remember things. But hearing everyone’s stories, the stuff they all had to relive… makes me feel guilty.”

You gave him a faint understanding smile, “Ah, guilt - the biggest bitch of all emotions, right? Always popping up even if it's unwarranted.”

Bob’s expression hardened as he stared at the floor, as if maybe he disagreed with something you said but wasn’t nearly bold enough to say so. He contemplated something for a few long, tense moments, brow furrowing once he met your eyes again, “Was it bad for you?”

You weren’t quite open to sharing details about what you experienced in the black out, but you nodded nonetheless, “Probably not as traumatic as some of the stuff that others saw, though it still keeps me up at night. To be fair, I’ve been dealing with insomnia for a while, though.”

“I can’t seem to sleep either. That’s why I came here. Or, in part, it is. I thought maybe hearing about other people’s problems might help. Now, I’m thinking that might just make it worse. I don’t know if I can… carry all of it; everyone’s trauma, my guilt.”

A worried look flashed across your features at his admission, your tone firm, “You don’t have to carry anyone else’s shit. Not like the black out was your fault.”

The look that Bob leveled you with nearly made you shiver. He stared at you as if he’d lived a hundred lifetimes, harboring some deep, cruel secret that he couldn’t risk letting out. It made you nervous in some way that you couldn’t place, your heart stuttering as he wrenched his eyes away in agitation. The silence between you became tense.

Despite that strange beat in conversation, an idea came to you, so you began fumbling around in your cluttered bag, “Look, I’m not a professional or anything, and maybe I’ve just been annoying as shit, but if you ever want to talk to someone on those nights you can’t sleep…”

You finally found a pen, extracting it and reaching for Bob’s hand without a second thought. He clenched his fist as if nervous to be touched - something you should have been more mindful of, considering the guardedness of so many people in your group - but he allowed you to scribble your name and number on the back of his hand.

You tried not to notice the warmth of him, the softness of his palm, though you nonetheless smiled kindly as the two of you lingered there. You could feel Bob’s body relaxing a little as he took a deep breath, looking between your face and the string of digits written on his skin. Absentmindedly, your thumb brushed gently along his arm as you studied him--

And then your sister was shouting, though you couldn’t quite hear the words on her lips, her eyes blazing with a cruelty unlike anything you’d known. She shoved you back, as if disgusted by you, shoved you again because you simply lingered, frozen and in shock. Your head swam from your lack of sobriety, eyes glossy and confused as you looked around your sister’s living room, strewn with baby toys and creature comforts, the TV blaring something behind you--

You came back to, and Bob’s hand was no longer in yours. Blinking rapidly, your expression furrowed and then widened as you pressed a palm to your forehead as if you were suddenly struggling with a migraine.

Bob looked between your eyes with worry, with something akin to fear; you opened your mouth to speak, but paused, realizing you weren’t quite sure what to say or what exactly happened. Sure, you’d thought about that night countless times, but you never had vivid flashbacks like that; was it a side effect from the black out? Maybe you’d have to ask if anyone else was experiencing them, because it was too strange, even for you.

Taking a deep breath, you looked away from Bob, trying to slow the confused beating of your heart. What did he think of you now, you wondered. Had you just frozen suddenly, going off somewhere in the recesses of your memory as he watched, horrified that the person he spoke to was crazier than she let on? Or maybe it was so quick that he barely noticed, maybe he just assumed it was a weird quirk?

Composing yourself, you sat up a little straighter, looking back at Bob with a straightforwardness as you ignored whatever the hell that was, “I mean it, Bob; you can call me any time, any day. Promise I won’t zone out like that again, that doesn’t normally happen.”

Bob looked between your eyes and his hand a few times; you wondered if it was out of surprise or trepidation or fear, or some other thing that you couldn’t place. To reassure him, you smiled as if that could dissolve any problems.

“Promise.” You repeated, scooping your bag up onto your shoulder as you stood, “I gotta catch my train… hope I hear from you.”

You gave Bob an optimistic look, and although there was still something lingering in his eyes, he managed to smile back, a genuinely pleasant look that made you feel a little giddy, “Yeah, I'll give you a call sometime. Promise.”

You stared at each other for a moment longer as you felt a flutter in your chest. Your smile grew a touch bashful as you started for the door, pausing to glance back at Bob, who was watching your retreat thoughtfully.

Bob wasn’t at the next therapy meeting, nor the one after that. You tried not to get your hopes up, though you couldn’t help the quiet disappointment that you felt. No one was obligated to show up each and every time, but you’d really been optimistic that he’d be there. It’s not that you’d been hoping to make a new friend, but… okay, maybe that’s exactly what you were hoping for, actually.

You hadn’t had any of those hallucinations again since that night - you weren’t sure if there was a better term for what had occurred, because you loathed that description for it, but you were grateful, at least, that they weren’t becoming some routine thing. Your nightmares got bad again after that, though, leading to mostly sleepless nights of tossing and turning and dreading the day ahead. On those occasions, you silently hoped that your phone would ring and that Bob would be on the other end, which almost made you feel pathetic because it reminded you that you didn’t really have anyone these days.

Between the whirlwind of your arrest, court case, rehab, and therapy, you’d slowly lost all of your friends, each and everyone one of the connections from your past life. Many of those you lost for the better, as they’d enabled your bad habits more than anything, but others had simply grown tired of your shit. Like your sister.

But you couldn’t let yourself think about her too hard.

You had made some acquaintances through work and therapy, but closer relationships had yet to pan out from any of those. Sometimes that was their choosing, sometimes it was yours. The closest thing you had to a friend right now was a woman in therapy named Emily, whom you’d gone out with a few times to get coffee, and she seemed to like you even after getting to know you, so that was a minor victory in your book.

It was after a second group session without Bob’s presence that she pulled you aside curiously, which you initially assumed meant she was going to ask you for another coffee date soon. But she determinedly scrolled through her phone in search of something, and so you waited curiously for whatever she had to show you. When finally she spun it around, you were greeted by a screenshot from the coverage of the new Avengers from a little over a month ago; she zoomed in on the far right of the screen, her brow furrowed inquisitively.

“Tell me that isn’t the guy who was here last week.”

Bob. You wished that you weren’t certain of it, but you recognized him immediately, without even a moment’s pause despite the fact that you only met him once. Emily didn’t know you’d stayed behind to chat with him after everyone left, which was fortunate, because otherwise you had a feeling she’d pester you more about it.

But, what the hell was he doing there?

For whatever reason, you hesitated to confirm her suspicion. It felt like you were privy to some secret that no one else should know, and although you were a lot of things, you weren’t a snitch. So, you twisted up your face in an exaggerated show of consideration, pretending to thoughtfully study the photo until you finally ‘decided’ that no, that wasn’t the same guy, just looked a bit like him.

Again, you found yourself wishing that Bob would call you or show up again.

A few nights later, you were wide awake at two in the morning, searching the internet for all possible videos and articles about this new Avengers team. This isn’t what you had intended to do - no, you really hoped that you’d actually sleep tonight - but after hours of restlessness, you ended up down the rabbit hole thanks to a blog post crossing your feed about ex-Congressman Barnes’ return to superheroing.

That could only lead you to one path, of course, so you scoured all the sources you could find for even a hint of information about or reference to Bob. Was he just a random citizen who happened to be in close proximity once the cameras were on, was he working for the woman who claimed to have put the team together? He couldn’t have been part of their team, you decided based upon how lost he looked in the short clips and pictures, but it was pretty damn weird for him to be photographed alongside them.

Unfortunately, the internet had nothing helpful to offer you. You personally suspected that the government was still keeping a lid on all the dirty details about what actually happened, because you encountered more than one broken link and deleted post in your research efforts. Considering that there was nothing official regarding the Avengers as of yet, you supposed there wouldn’t be anything useful out there until further notice.

Was three am too early for coffee? You knew you were out of luck getting any rest tonight, though getting up now may make you exhausted at work later.

Fuck it. You rolled out of bed and quickly padded down the hall to the bathroom. The beauty of living in a halfway house was that everyone kept weird schedules, so you never stressed about your own strange hours like you used to when you were couch surfing or living with roommates. Hell, you’d even miss this place whenever you eventually moved onto your next, hopefully more permanent, residence.

After a quick shower, you left, making the short trek to the 24-hour corner store with a coffee bar that always suited your high caffeine needs.

It was as you stepped outside that your phone rang, causing your heart to skip with far too much anticipation. Considering that no one ever reached out to you anymore, you figured it could only be one person calling you before the sun was up. Again, you tried to avoid thinking about why you were so intrigued by Bob, and why you cared so much.

“Yeah?” You greeted quickly, trying not to sound too eager as you balanced the phone between your shoulder and ear. The line was quiet for a long moment.

“Um, hi… it’s Bob.”

“I hoped so.” You blurted out with a faint smile, though your eyes widened as you realized what you said. Awkwardly, you coughed, quickly redirecting so that he hopefully wouldn’t linger on it, “You having trouble sleeping?”

Bob paused for a second, “Yeah. You?”

“Can’t sleep a wink.”

You weren’t sure why you were so happy to hear from him. You barely knew each other, and your struggles with insomnia were hardly something to bond over. And yet, you were… flattered, for lack of a better word, that Bob actually called like he said he would, that he must have liked or trusted you enough to not just forget your number and move on. God, have you really been growing this lonely in recent months?

Although he was silent, you got the impression that Bob was thinking hard about something. You took a long sip of your coffee, wandering aimlessly along the sidewalk as your gaze bounced around; maybe you could find something interesting to draw, you always preferred having something to keep your hands busy.

“Do you want to talk about anything, or should I?” You asked, though instantly you realized that may have made things awkward. You were reminded briefly of one time in a past therapy session when someone mentioned that a lot of people can’t stand lulls in conversation, so they’ll find a way of filling it; guess you were that type of person who wasn’t so good with gaps of silence.

“I know I’m the one who called you, but I… don’t really know how to talk about it.” You refrained from asking what ‘it’ was, assuming that Bob would find his own way to fill in the blank, “I never really learned how to express myself. I have friends that have been trying to help me with some stuff - well, we’ve all kinda been helping each other - but it just feels really unnatural.”

You huffed out a laugh, juggling everything so you could dig out your cigarettes, “You have friends, but you still decided to call me? I’m flattered.”

You could almost hear the flustered expression on his face as he tripped over himself, “Well, I mean, I’m not trying to assume, but I was under the impression there are some things you might understand better than they will.”

“Insomnia and nightmares?”

“Cravings.” You paused, not prepared for the simple yet honest answer. You nodded in contemplation despite the fact that Bob couldn’t see you, knowing all the things implied by those two simple words.

Therapists always warned against befriending other addicts - it risked the progress of all parties involved. Yet, at the same time, no one else in the world could understand certain struggles quite like those who have lived through the same type of shit as you. So, Bob had clocked you the same way you did him; maybe that meant something.

“Where are you, Bob? Do you need to meet up in case you… do something you’ll regret?” You asked nervously; you didn’t want to offend him, but you also didn’t know what mental spot he was in right now. For all you knew, he could’ve desperately needed someone’s help right now, so at the very least you felt like it was your responsibility to be available for him.

“I’m okay. I’m okay.” You weren’t sure if he repeated it for you or for himself, though you nonetheless appreciated that he did so, “They don’t really know the feeling. They have their own problems, but that one’s my own.”

“Trust me, I get it.” You decided to find a seat, settling on the steps of a closed business and pulling out your sketchbook, “Has it been worse since the black out?”

You could picture the way Bob probably cringed at that; if you gathered anything from your one meeting, it was that the black out seemed to be a particularly sore subject for him. You started doodling absentmindedly, the pen in your hand an instant relief.

“Everything’s been really different since then. I was pretty lost before it happened, and I was fine for a little bit, but now I’m just… not sure about anything.”

“You could always come back to the group - like I said, it helps.” Though he didn’t respond, you felt his hesitation, “Sometimes it makes the bad shit feel less suffocating. Adds a lot of stability to my life, personally.”

“Stability sounds nice.” Bob mused, “Right now there’s so much going on that I don’t know where to start, it’s suffocating. It’s nice talking to someone who isn’t caught up in the middle of it.”

Your brow furrowed as you considered that, wondering, again, what exactly Bob meant, “Not trying to pry or anything, but you’re a bit cryptic, you know that?”

“I don’t like to be.” It sounded like he actually meant it, too, “There’s just a lot I’m not really… able to talk about right now.”

“Is it part of a rehab process or something?” Your brow furrowed, scribbling aimlessly. That didn’t sound like a treatment tactic you’d ever heard of before, but it didn’t hurt to ask.

“No, it’s not that. It’s more… work related.”

In that moment, you remembered the new Avengers, your futile research, all your queries surrounding why Bob was seen alongside them. You kept yourself from asking any thoughtless questions, wishing you had a little more information to work with. If the government was trying to keep things on the down low, it would explain his vagueness and guarded nature - if he was, in fact, connected to this Avengers shit like you were guessing, but even still that seemed like a long shot.

“Well, what can you tell me?” That sounded rude, didn’t it? Maybe not the best way to make friends.

“Um… I’m trying to keep my head above water despite everything reminding me of the bad things I’ve done. My friends and I are all basically sworn to secrecy right now, which sucks because getting a girl’s number has been the first shred of normalcy I’ve had in a while, so I really don’t want to mess that up. But I think I might mess it up because I can’t say anything.”

You paused, coffee, cigarette, and doodles momentarily forgotten following the admission. In spite of yourself, you felt your cheeks warm a little, a smile creeping across your lips. You weren’t quite sure how to interpret what he said, but it made you feel… fuzzy inside.

“I don’t think anyone’s considered me ‘normal’ before.” You giggled smally, as if everything else he said went in one ear and out the other.

“Sorry, was that the wrong thing to say? Promise I didn’t mean it in a bad way.” Bob asked, but you could hear the kind smile in his voice, the delight in his tone.

“I believe you.” You grinned, wishing that you could see his face right now, “It’s nice talking with you, Bob. If I haven’t scared you away yet, I’d like if we could talk more often.”

“Scare me away?” Bob huffed out a small laugh, “I’m more worried about scaring you, to be honest.”

You, too, laughed, “I guess being worried about the same thing sorta cancels it out. Or I hope it does. I can’t imagine you could scare me off that easily, though, usually I’m the one that’s more troublesome.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“Is that a challenge?” You teased, “Because, just to warn you, I don’t back down from challenges all that easily.”

Bob hummed in amusement, “I’m sure you don’t.”

Was that supposed to sound… flirty? Maybe you just wanted it to, but damn, that felt a little coy to you. The heat rose in your cheeks again, your pencil continuing to swirl random shapes onto paper; like a teenager, you felt the impulse to draw a stupid little heart, but refrained. You wished that you had something clever to say, something equally as flirtatious just to see if that was Bob’s intention, but he managed to make you a little nervous with that last one. So, like a fool, you bit your lip to hold in any giggles.

Bob coughed, perhaps also aware of the effect of his words, “I like talking to you, too. And now you have my number, so maybe… you’ll call me sometime?”

“I think I can manage that.” You smiled to yourself. As another idea crossed you, you tried not to cringe awkwardly at how silly you felt asking, “Maybe we can even grab coffee sometime or something?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’d like that.” It sounded like maybe Bob was as nervous as you, though that could have been wishful thinking.

Although you still had a dozen question marks surrounding Bob, you suddenly weren’t all that concerned with them - this was the talking stage, after all, no one knew that much about another person after a couple of conversations. You must have been getting rusty or something, because this was obviously no different from getting to know anyone else. Surely any questions you had would be answered with enough time, with enough conversations, just like you’d answer whatever questions Bob might have for you.

And you really hoped there would be a lot more conversation to come.

Since your phone call with Bob last week, your nights had still been just as restless as usual; tossing and turning and wondering and overthinking. It was so normal for you that you didn’t think anything of it, though now your evenings were also tinged with the curiosity of whether or not he may call you again, or if you should call him. The both of you admitted to struggling with sleep most nights, so who better than to keep you company than a fellow insomniac?

And yet, neither of you was quite willing enough to pick up that phone again.

Miraculously, though, you had actually managed to drift off at a decent hour for the first time in days, your sleep calm and dreamless, which was something of a godsend. Maybe the utter lack of sleep finally caught up to you, body and mind finally fatigued enough to give in; if only it didn’t take so much to get some damn sleep.

You weren’t sure how many minutes or hours of shut eye you managed to squeeze in before your phone started buzzing from your bedside table, piercing its way into your subconscious like a bullet. You stopped being a heavy sleeper once you got sober, waking at any and every sound, which was a burden in a city as loud as New York. On more than one occasion, you told yourself that you’d get some ear plugs, but you never followed through.

You jolted up, blinking groggily as your phone vibrated against the wood surface, your body aching from whatever uncomfortable position you’d fallen asleep in. Once you felt situated enough following your rapid waking, you reached for the phone without even glancing at the caller ID, already knowing exactly who would be calling you in the middle of the night.

“Hey,” You greeted gently, your throat a little hoarse.

“I woke you, didn’t I?” Bob asked guiltily, as if he counted how many rings it took you to answer or could hear the exhaustion in your voice. His tone gave you the impression that he thought waking you was the greatest offense in the world.

“No.” You lied seamlessly, glad that he couldn’t see you yawning into the crook of your elbow, even if you assumed he wouldn’t believe you, “Are you okay?”

There was a long, hesitant pause, and with each passing second worry began to bubble in your chest; although you tried not to fret, you couldn’t help yourself, because something seemed off.

Eventually, Bob sighed shakily, which sounded desperate to your ears, “I’ve been better.”

Your expression dropped as you drew your knees under your chin, staring into the dark of your room, enough light seeping through your blinds that it created strange shadows and shapes along the wall, “What’s wrong, Bob?”

There was another beat of silence, “I just… sobriety’s really getting to me right now. My head is so clear, I can’t stop thinking about everything I’ve done, all the bad stuff. Whenever I’d get like this before, I’d know I was too sober and take whatever I could get, or I could at least count on having enough gaps in my memory that nothing could get to me. I’ve done a lot of bad things since then, though, and it's eating at me. Those gaps are starting to fill and I’m not sure if it’s all real or imaginary.”

Worry washed over you like a cold rush of water, and suddenly you feared that you wouldn’t be able to help Bob in the way that he needed. You tossed your bedsheets away, wondering if you should get dressed and figure out where he is, “Bob, I promise you, whatever you’re feeling isn’t worth touching shit, you got it? I know it sucks, but I need you to listen to me. Don’t think about taking anything. Do you need me to come to you?”

You heard him breath roughly again; you closed your eyes, trying to picture him in your mind, imagining the worst, “No, you don’t have to do that… Can you just talk to me right now? I want to listen to your voice.”

A warmth lit your cheeks, though you felt it was inappropriate given the circumstances. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your worries, “What do you want me to talk about?”

“You,” Bob urged, “Your life, anything. I want to know you… How you cope when things get like this?”

“Well, I smoke a lot of cigarettes.” You jested halfheartedly, hoping that it might help to put him at ease, “And I draw. Used to talk to my sister when things got bad. Sometimes I just talk to the empty room so the words get out of me; it’s like it… releases the bad thoughts.”

“What do you draw?” Bob’s voice sounded rough, as if he was working hard to keep himself together.

Your heart drummed with concern as you continued, “Anything; I just draw a lot. As a kid I was convinced I’d go to art school or something; even my parents thought so because I’d just doodle on anything I could get my hands on. I was such a perfectionist, though, always getting myself worked up because I had to be the best, you know. I’d worry so damn much about lines on paper, it was ridiculous. Never did get into art school… Maybe that’s a good thing, because now I can draw again without worrying that nothing’s good enough.

“If you’re up for it, maybe I can draw you sometime; I’m trying to do more with people and not just things. I’d like to draw you.” Your eyes widened, realizing how it may have sounded to admit that you wanted to draw Bob; you preemptively cringed at whatever awkwardness may come next.

“Okay.” It was one simple, breathy word, yet you could nonetheless feel the interest and warmth in his tone, causing your worried expression to soften, “I might not be the best subject, but… that sounds nice.”

“You’d make a great subject.” You smiled sweetly despite the fact that he couldn’t see your face, “You’re a-- well, I just think--”

What you were about to say was that Bob was good looking, but you caught yourself before the words slipped out, already a little too self-conscious over the last thing you said to admit such a thing yet. You heard a huff of amusement through the phone, which made your shoulders relax a little; maybe you were helping after all, even if you were embarrassing yourself in the process.

“I’d love to see your stuff, if you want to show me.” Bob added, as if he knew what you’d been trying to say and decided to help you save face. He was the one that called you, he shouldn’t have to worry about you like this; that was supposed to be your job right now.

“Maybe next time you’re at group.” You appreciated his effort, nervously scratching at your arm as you recovered from your near-blunder, “My sketch book is full of all kinds of things, it’s a bit much, I think.”

“Well, you're an artist; I’d expect it to have a lot going on.” Was he trying to make you nervous, because it was working.

You pondered said book for a moment, thinking about all the images within it, specifically some of the work from before things got really messy. You gulped, deciding to trust Bob with more of your story, since all your talking seemed to be good for him so far, “I used to sketch my sister and her family a lot. I idolized her as a kid, she was so… perfect to me. There’s a bit of a gap between us, so I thought she was really grown up when I was a kid. And she totally is, she’s got her life so put together that I can’t believe we’re related sometimes. She helped me a lot when I got into some bad spots.”

“What happened?” Bob asked with hesitation and sympathy, “I mean, you’re talking about her like she’s gone, is she…?”

You bit your lip while breathing deeply, “She decided she couldn’t help me anymore. I fucked up one too many times. But I think it was supposed to happen that way - forced me to get my act together.”

“You miss her, though?”

“All the damn time. I lost my best friend because of my bullshit. Yeah, it sucks, some days more than others, but I can’t hold it against her.”

“You seem so… like you got it all together. Like you don’t need anyone’s help.”

You barked out a disbelieving laugh, “Oh, I don’t have it together. I’m a wreck half the time, I just keep it all in; it’s no one else’s problem but mine.”

“How do you do it?” Again, you found yourself wishing Bob was here in front of you so you could look into his eyes, at his body language; so you could squeeze his hand with the assurance that he needed. So you could make sure he was okay.

“Honestly, I don’t know, but what other choice do I have? Either I sink beneath it all or I float. I’d rather float.” There was a long stretch of silence between you two as you waited for him to speak again. You wondered if you were still helping, or if he was just putting up fronts to make you feel better; your worry kicked back in again, “Bob, how are you doing right now? This very moment?”

“Not great.” You sighed, “But… I’d rather float.”

A surprised giggle escaped you, an uncertain smile on your lips because you couldn’t be sure if his answer was a good thing or just for show, “God, that was really cheesy, wasn’t it?”

“Made you sound like a real motivational speaker.” Bob laughed faintly, too, a genuine sound that was a relief to your ears; maybe he was doing a bit better than he was before, “It helped. I like talking to you - something about you just keeps me grounded, I guess.”

“I make you feel ‘normal?’” You teased, recalling what he’d said the last time you spoke.

“Well… yes?” His tone managed to sound good despite how he’d felt all night; maybe it was the truth when he said you helped him. Easing up a little, you smiled fondly to yourself.

“I… like being your normal.” You admitted bashfully, biting your lip with fear at how he may interpret and respond to that. Bob was quiet for a beat, which dared to make you think that maybe you said too much.

“I like it, too.” He answered in a soft voice, content, a comfortable silence passing between you, “But I should let you go back to sleep; I don’t want to keep you up all night.”

“I wasn’t--”

“I know you were sleeping; last time, you answered after only two rings.” He interrupted with a pleasant laugh, and you were taken aback by the fact that he actually did count the rings both tonight and last time you spoke, just like you assumed, “Thank you for tonight.”

You were disappointed and nervous to let him go - you could stay up all night talking if he only asked, and a part of you really wished he would, “You sure you’re going to be okay? You’re not gonna hang up and do something rash? We can stay on the phone.”

“No, I promise. I think I’ll be okay.”

You mulled it over for a few moments, “If that changes, you call me, sleep be damned. And if you don’t call, we’ll talk soon?”

“Promise.” Bob repeated himself, and you realized briefly that the two of you seemed to use that word a lot considering that your friendship - if this could be called such a thing - was still blooming. You could only hope that you both meant it each and every time, “Next time, under better circumstances.”

“I’m happy to talk to you under any circumstances.” You blurted out thoughtlessly, feeling your cheeks warm with some embarrassment, “I mean--”

“I know.” Bob interrupted sweetly; you tried to picture the smile that must have been on his lips right now. There was a pause, giving you the impression that he had more to say but hesitated. Finally, he took another breath, “Sleep well.”

You bid him good night, and Bob hung up almost too quickly, leaving you feeling a lot lonelier than you were before.

Wide awake now, you glanced towards your window, staring mindlessly at the sliver of brick wall that you could see through the gap in the blinds. Should you have kept him on the phone longer, should you have been more assertive in making sure he was okay? For all you knew, Bob was still in a bad spot but didn’t want to burden you any further with it. It made you wish you knew anyone that could give you more insight into him, that there was someone you could call and ask to check in on him.

But whatever was going on with you and Bob was like an island, separate from anyone and anything else, a thing all your own. Despite your worries, it made warmth swell in your chest to think about him like that; you kind of liked that it felt like it was just the two of you. That no one else knew about your friendship, that when you talked nothing else could really penetrate the little bubble you created. It made you feel… special.

Shit, you hoped he felt the same way.

You hesitated to be the one to call Bob first, silly as that may sound. You couldn’t stand the idea of potentially bogging him down with your shit when you knew he was dealing with his own problems, so you refrained from picking up the phone no matter how much you wanted to. Sure, whenever you thought about calling him it was simply because you missed the idea of him, but you got so damn nervous each time you opened his contact in your phone that you always talked yourself out of it. Stupid.

The two of you hadn’t talked again since the phone call a few days ago. He also hadn’t returned to group therapy like you suggested and hoped for - guess that made both of you nervous cowards. You couldn’t blame him because it probably still stressed him out to think about attending a second time, but you were still hopeful that eventually he’d show his face again. Or that maybe he’d call you for that coffee date you talked about.

You understood that it was probably way too soon to consider him a friend or anything more; you were just two recovering addicts who found kinship in one another. You didn’t know each other at all, and you shouldn’t get your hopes up, but there was just something about Bob…

Shit, there’s no way he just walked through the door as you were thinking about him.

You had to do a double-take, because you almost couldn’t believe that Bob entered the community room in the last ten minutes of therapy as if you’d manifested him from thin air.

But there he was, looking as awkward and apologetic as he had the first time. Your heart skipped as a giddy little smile tugged at your lips, Bob tripping over an explanation that he tried to get here on time but something held him up; all the while, he kept stealing looks at you from the corner of his eye. The therapist assured him it was fine, but would appreciate it if his sporadic disruptions weren’t to become a routine thing.

For those last few minutes of the session, you didn’t listen to a single word anyone said. You were a little too absorbed in studying Bob to catch the rest of the discussion, the both of you watching one another as if worried the other would disappear should you blink.

As everyone began clearing out of the room, you hesitated briefly, unsure if you could just approach him normally or if you should hang back. For a beat, you stole a glance over at Emily, wondering if she was still hung up on that image of the new Avengers, but she was preoccupied without a single regard for Bob’s presence.

When you looked back, he was watching you with an expression that you couldn’t place, though his jaw clenched with nerves once you met eyes; you could’ve kicked yourself for the way it made your heart skip. You gave him a kind grin while crossing towards him, feeling a little nervous to finally be face-to-face again.

“Didn’t think I’d see you again any time soon.” You greeted, receiving a sheepish smile in response.

“I’ve wanted to come, I just… well, you know, all the secrets I can’t tell you.” You hummed in understanding. The two of you stared at one another for a long moment before Bob cleared his throat, “You have time? I could go for some normalcy right now.”

You nodded softly, your smile bashful before you waved your hand in a ‘follow me’ motion, “I’ve got as much time as you need.”

Bob followed at your heels as you walked through the door, guiding him outside while you rifled in your bag, knowing your cigarettes were buried somewhere in there. You looked around in search of a place for the two of you to sit that wasn’t the front steps of the community center. You glanced back at Bob inquisitively.

“Up for a bit of a walk? There’s a park a couple blocks from here. Or there’s a coffee shop just around the corner.”

He looked at you curiously, but then smiled sweetly, “Lead the way - your choice.”

Box of cigarettes in hand, you slid one free as you walked together, lighting it quickly and thoughtlessly. But then, you realized that it was rude of you to do so without even considering Bob, so you looked over at him apologetically.

“Shit, sorry, I should’ve asked. Is this okay? I can put it out if it's not.” You were more than ready to toss aside the cigarette should Bob protest, but he gave a quick shake of his head.

“It helps, right? Keeps you from wanting something worse.” He answered in understanding; the fact that he remembered you mentioning your need for the habit made you feel warm, and the stress you hadn’t realized you were holding onto disappeared.

“I wanna kick the habit eventually, but…”

You two walked a block or so and crossed towards the park, where you idly wandered for a couple minutes before you found a bench. As you sat, Bob lowered down on the opposite side as if trying to keep as much space between you as possible, which seemed odd. For another few moments, you studied him thoughtfully, taking in his features as if you hoped to memorize them. Really, you’d stared at his image captured alongside the Avengers more times than you could count, so you already felt familiar with his face by this point, as embarrassing as that was.

“What finally brought you back?” You asked simply, trying to be subtle as you slid a tad closer to him.

Bob looked away from you while considering his answer, a nervous color tinting his cheeks, “Would you believe me if I said I wanted to see you?”

Again, your heart skipped, brows jumping up in pleasant surprise. Last time, he wanted to hear your voice, and this time he wanted to see you? Anyone showing interest in you wasn’t exactly something you were accustomed to; no, usually people were more inclined to wanting nothing to do with you. Which was fair, considering your track record.

But Bob, this person you barely knew, wanted to… spend time with you? It almost felt undeserved.

Bashfully, you looked down, “No, but I think that’s more a reflection on me than you.”

Bob studied your expression, understanding you far too well, as if he’d felt the same thing before, “I mean it. Nice to have some kind of relationship that’s just… mine, if that makes sense.”

God, that made perfect sense; it was a thought that you yourself had following your last conversation. It also made you all the more curious, considering just how little Bob’s told you about himself and his life.

You gave him a teasing look, though your question was genuine, “Are you… monitored all the time? Not to be rude, but you make it sound like someone else is in charge of your life. Is it because of that work thing you mentioned?”

“Yeah…” Bob answered as if he loathed to admit it, taking a deep breath, “I’m afraid that telling you about it would change things.”

You considered that before shrugging nonchalantly, “Well, it would. But that’s kinda the point, right?”

Thinking back on your last phone call, you gave Bob some information about yourself, though really it wasn’t much in the grand scheme of things. Just enough to show him who you were and give him an out before it was too late. And clearly he didn’t take that out, so you figured that meant something good.

You took a deep inhale of smoke while straightening your shoulders, “I can tell you more about me, if that makes you feel better. I’d like to know something about you.”

Your offer made an uncertain expression cross Bob’s face. You gave him a soft smile of encouragement, which he reciprocated with a nod, “Yeah, I’d like that. Just… I’ll try to tell you what I can.”

You nodded in understanding, hoping that whatever Bob was holding onto he had a good reason behind, “My drug problem started when I was sixteen. I’ve been clean for two years now, but not before I managed to ruin every relationship I had. I told you about my sister… I got sober after she called the cops on me during one of the stints I was sleeping on her couch. I haven’t talked to any of my family since; they don’t really want anything to do with me.”

Bob looked between your eyes as he mulled over your brief summary of the shit you had going on - you could spare him all the details for now, give him more of them with time. Dropping your cigarette on the ground, you squashed it under the toe of your shoe, looking back at him patiently, hopefully.

“Can I see your drawings?” He asked apprehensively, huffing out a faint laugh, “I, uh… okay, I’m avoiding talking for a bit longer.”

You couldn’t help but smile at Bob’s honesty, giving a quick, reassuring nod while digging into your bag, “Just don’t judge me too harshly.”

“I won’t judge you at all.” His answer was so genuine, causing that pesky fluttering in your chest yet again. Pulling out your sketchbook, you bit your lip nervously as you flipped through, not sure what works to show him.

“I guess just start here,” You said while offering a specific page to him, “Don’t look at anything before that, it’s all old and embarrassing.”

Smiling sweetly, Bob accepted the book, studying the first page of scribbles and scratches before silently moving onto the next. Some pages he lingered on a little longer than others, some he commented on with encouragement, making it known that he was impressed, which made your cheeks warm.

And then you remembered a recent page of drawings you’d been working on throughout this past week; it was a dozen or so faces, all drawn to varying degrees of quality, some from memory, most from photos. You inhaled sharply, because you realized too late that Bob might notice his own face crudely drawn amongst them. You really had stared at that image of him with the Avengers a lot, you thought with utter mortification, silently praying that he simply wouldn’t recognize himself there.

You practically held your breath as he continued flipping through, getting closer to the end - should you tell him to just ignore the last few pages? Would that just entice him to look at them even more? Maybe if you don’t mention it, he won’t notice?

As you thought it over, Bob turned to the page that you were dreading, and you self-consciously looked away as if that would save you from the torment, waiting with baited breath. After a long few moments, you dared to glance at him from the corner of your eye, wondering if he noticed and what he was thinking.

“Is that…?” Shit, he noticed. With a sheepish furrow, you looked back at Bob trepidatiously; the awe in his face made you cringe even harder, “Do you have a photographic memory?”

You nervously chewed the inside of your cheek, debating how to answer the question. But the last thing you wanted to do was lie to Bob, as much as you hated the actual answer, so you took a deep breath while you tried to compose yourself, “Not exactly. I, uh… well, someone in the group recognized you and showed me a photo and I just… looked at it a lot…”

Seeing the apprehension in Bob’s face, you quickly tripped over yourself to explain further, “God, I knew I’d sound like a creep. All that Avengers stuff? Yeah, she recognized you from the press clips and showed me, but I didn’t want to mention it to you because it felt wrong and I just… drew you based on that.”

Bob continued to stare at you, dismay in his eyes. It took him a few moments before he finally spoke, tone guarded, “So… you know?”

“I don’t know anything, Bob. I literally don’t know why you were there or if you were even supposed to be there or anything. I promise.” Anxiety washed over you, because what if you totally just messed this up? What if this relationship was ruined before you even had the chance to start it? You just had to make a dumb mistake, like you always seemed to, “I figured maybe you worked for that woman or that maybe you were just there coincidentally? I’m sorry, I probably should’ve told you, I just--”

“Slow down.” Bob interrupted, looking back down at your drawings in consideration, his expression somewhat tense. After a minute, he let out a long sigh, before sliding his gaze back towards you thoughtfully, “I don’t know if that makes this easier or harder.”

“Makes what…?”

Bob hummed uncertainly, jaw clenching, “Telling you anything. I didn’t know where to start, but I guess you kinda already got some of it covered.”

You stared at Bob with total surprise - was he really just cool with that? Was he really okay with you ogling a single picture of him, knowing something you maybe shouldn’t have? He made it seem so insignificant, like he wasn’t particularly bothered by the secret you were unintentionally harboring, like he didn’t care that you never mentioned it before. You really didn’t deserve that kind of acceptance, of that you were certain.

“Don’t be sorry.” Bob insisted, like he knew what you were thinking. He looked between your eyes as if he was searching for something in them. When a reassuring smile spread carefully across his lips, your brow furrowed, “So stop looking so nervous.”

Well, that’s not what you were expecting from him of all people, the King of Nerves, “I just… thought maybe you’d be more upset?”

Bob laughed smally in his throat with a shake of his head before realizing that this was the anxiety he could help you with, much like you’d helped him before, “I mean, did you do anything wrong? I don’t think so. I'm more surprised that you were willing to look at my face long enough to draw it.”

You couldn’t help the edgy laugh that leapt out of you, shrugging while scratching awkwardly at your arm, “Well, it’s like I told you - you’d make a great subject.”

He huffed, though the little twinkle in his eyes was reassuring. Your shoulders began to relax, your body slowly releasing its stress as you accepted that you weren’t in trouble for anything, though it lingered on the periphery of your emotions, just waiting for any evidence that something was still wrong. The two of you stared at one another before Bob glanced back down at your sketches.

“You made me look half decent.” He jested, causing another faint laugh to escape you.

“Well, I just… drew what I saw.” You answered, looking between his face and the drawing. A charged silence fell over the two of you; not necessarily uncomfortable or difficult, though it was different, to say the least.

Bob cleared his throat after a long beat, jaw clenched as he thought for a moment, “My home life wasn’t good growing up.” Realizing that he was finally sharing - trying to be vulnerable with you - you perked up attentively, “I dropped out of high school and got into a lot of stuff I shouldn’t have… I heard about this medical trial a while back and joined because I had nothing going for me, nothing to lose. I got sober thanks to it, not that that’s what I was going for. Technically, I think I work for the government, but… that’s kinda all up in the air right now.”

You considered everything, the last part in particular, because it had to have some correlation to his presence alongside the Avengers, “So, government? Guess that means there’s hope for druggies everywhere.”

The two of you shared a grin while Bob shook his head, “I wouldn’t cite myself as an example to anyone.”

“Too hard on yourself,” you reached over to give his hand a well-meaning pat, though you felt him tense at the contact. With a furrow of your brow, you took your hand back quickly, “Sorry. You don’t like to be touched, do you? And here I am just giving no regard to your personal space.”

“No, it’s nice, it really is. I just worry.” Bob looked unsure of his own words, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, “I don’t… dislike it; just makes me nervous sometimes.”

You gave him a faint smile while slowly reaching out again, tentative as you set your hand atop his, giving a small, reassuring squeeze. Though he seemed hesitant, Bob allowed your fingers to lace a little, causing a swell of excitement in your chest like static throughout your entire body--

Behind your sister, her husband held their toddler protectively in one arm, phone pressed to his ear as he spoke rapidly with the 9-1-1 operator on the other end of the line. Again, your sister was grabbing and shoving you, expression fierce and tortured as you struggled to grasp the severity of the situation. You shook your head, trying to talk to her, to apologize for whatever you did, but she simply yelled louder, demanding that you leave, that she never wanted to see you again--

And you came back to reality with a start, eyes wide as you looked about, only to realize that Bob had already leapt to his feet, putting distance between you with a look of regret. You took a confused gasp of air, looking between him and your shaky hand; how could this have happened again? You got a single flashback once a couple of weeks ago, and now it’s happening again, but only when Bob was around? Only when you touched Bob’s hand--

A terrible realization dawned on you, one that you wouldn’t have believed if the world you lived in wasn’t already so damn strange, and apparently always getting stranger.

“It’s… you?” You asked in disbelief, ogling your hand as if it were stained in the blood of your past.

Returning your attention to Bob, he looked like a terrified child standing before you, a certain dread in his eyes as he shrunk in on himself; it made your chest ache for him. You thought that last time this happened had been some post-traumatic hallucination following the black out, but… somehow he caused it…

Had the black out been his doing, too?

“I’m sorry.” Shit, his voice was small and full of such grief, eyes so fearful that it was gut wrenching, “I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

Before you even had the chance to say anything else, Bob turned from you, long strides carrying him away quickly. For a moment, you were frozen in shock before you, too, shot up to your feet, chasing without a second thought, still not even sure how he managed to do that.

“Bob, wait!” You called after him. You didn’t know yet what you thought or felt, considering that you didn’t really know what the hell was going on to begin with, but you didn’t want him to disappear. Not after he just shared with you, not after you both came to an understanding, not after he made you feel some kind of way about him.

As you gained on him, Bob picked up his pace, lighting a desperation inside you as you took even larger strides to catch him. You reached out and managed to grab hold of his elbow, digging in your heels as he put up no resistance, coming to a halt. Catching your breath, you rounded Bob so you could look him in the face, keeping your hand on his arm in what you hoped was a reassuring gesture and not a threatening one. He kept his head down, shoulders sagging as you leaned forward, trying to meet his eyes.

“You don’t have to run from me,” you practically whispered, still trying to understand what was going on right now; between your emotions, his, and whatever the hell that was, things were a bit of a blur.

But somehow, Bob caused you to have those flashbacks; and, if your logic was anything to go on, somehow he was also the cause of the black out that had hurt so much of this city. How and why didn’t matter to you - you couldn’t hold that against him, not when he looked like a wounded puppy fearful of whatever was to come next. You didn’t hold it against him, because you could tell from his body language that he hadn’t lied when he said he didn’t mean for anything bad to happen.

You knew the kind of hurt one dealt others, intentional or not, when they themselves were struggling - you weren’t about to be the reason Bob felt any worse than he clearly already did. After all, far stranger things have happened in this world than that black out.

He stole a glance up at you, but quickly looked away, that childlike fear in his face again. You weren’t even remotely concerned about any more potential glimpses into your past as you gently held his elbow, brushing your thumb in small, soothing circles as you were determined not to back down. Bob watched the gentle gesture of your hand with trepidation, his body tense as if he was afraid of what he might accidentally show you. When nothing happened for a few long moments, you reached out slowly with your other hand, gingerly cupping his jaw and tilting his head so he’d look at you again.

“Talk to me.” You urged, thankful that you weren’t having any more flashbacks, “Nothing’s happening, see? You’re okay. We’re both okay.”

You stepped in closer, and perhaps it was just wishful thinking, but you thought you could feel some of the tension leaving his body. A deep breath puffed up in his chest before he exhaled slowly, his gaze sad upon your face.

“It was the medical trial; made me… different.” Bob finally said, voice straining as if he was fighting hard to keep it together, “I still don’t know all the things I can do because of it. I thought I could control it; sometimes I can. I… call it the Void; the black out was it controlling me, though.” He laughed weakly, without humor, “I’m not right - in the head, I mean. If I were normal, I think things would be different. We - the team - were able to stop it before things got too bad, but now I just don’t know. I’m afraid to try anything again.”

You considered what he said; despite all the new questions now stirring up, you refrained from asking them. Now really wasn’t the time to grill him on all the ins-and-outs of something that not even he entirely understood yet.

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” You assured firmly, “You have more control than you give yourself credit for. Nothing’s happening now, right?”

Bob looked between your eyes with a furrowed brow, jaw clenched as if he were in pain, “I’m concentrating really hard. I can’t let myself do that to you again.”

You sighed, readjusting so that both hands cupped his jaw, your touch still ginger so as not to worry or overwhelm him, “Thank you. You’re doing great.”

He nodded, trying to accept what you said. You gently brushed your thumbs along his cheeks, which prompted him to slowly, shakily, reach up to rest his hands atop yours, as if still testing the waters to see if he could keep it under control.

“I meant it when I said I don’t remember that day. It’s not fair that I hurt this whole city, but I don’t have to suffer the consequences of that. I get to just conveniently forget, meanwhile everyone else is in turmoil? That’s not right.”

You considered his words, how he said nearly the same thing before; now, having more context hurt your heart as you realized how much guilt Bob was truly harboring, a pain settling heavy inside you, “Is that the real reason you came to our therapy… you were making amends punishing yourself with our stories?”

Bob looked away again, eyes glossy with discomfort. A deep sigh escaped you, and without a second thought you wrapped your arms warmly around his neck, pressing him into a tight hug. His body was hot against yours, shoulders tense, arms hanging at his sides with uncertainty. You squeezed him gently to make a point--

The handcuffs were uncomfortable on your wrists, a rough hand guiding you towards the squad car--

Your eyes clenched tightly as you tried to resist the images.

Looking around yourself, you felt like you were in a daze. The lights of the cruiser flashed against walls, reflecting off window panes, blinding and disorienting--

“No.” You spoke firmly against the images behind your eyes, pressing yourself against Bob determinedly, “You can control it.”

You could feel the furrow of his brow, the clench of his jaw against your cheek, “I’m trying.”

“It’s okay.” You whispered along the shell of his ear, one hand twisting limply into the hair at the nape of his neck, “I promise, it’s okay.”

And finally, Bob accepted it, his arms wrapping tightly around your middle and pressing you even closer like two pieces that fit together. You exhaled the breath you were holding, comfortable as you melted against him with total ease. You clung to one another like your life depended on it, desperate for this connection between you, for it to calm whatever chaos and anxiety was inside. You could feel Bob’s deep breaths in your hair, the pressure of his fingertips flexing against your back; you felt safe in his arms, unconcerned for the danger he worried was still present.

After a minute, you sighed in relief, “See? Everything’s okay.”

You pulled back just far enough to meet his eyes again, searching them for his fears and trepidations. He stared back at you with disbelief, arms still tight around your waist as if he now worried about letting go. 

“Everything’s okay…” Bob repeated in a low whisper, nodding as if trying to convince himself. His gaze bounced around your face, taking in your features as he breathed deeply; maybe you were grounding him, like he’d mentioned before. The thought made your heart flutter, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip while sheepishly looking down. Now really wasn’t the time to feel the things you were feeling, “Thank you.”

That drew your attention up to his face again; Bob was smiling gently, as if he was still trying to calm his nerves and keep himself from breaking. You grinned back, hands shifting to rest along his jaw again.

“When you’re ready, I’d like if you told me about everything.” You started, hoping that didn’t come across as demanding or rude. Bob gave you a reassuring nod, breathing deeply.

“I think I can do that…” Your eyes gently flit about his face, from his faint, sad smile down his neck and chest then back up, enjoying the opportunity to simply take him in. There was a disappointed flash in his gaze as he stared back at you, “I wish it was easier. Everything’s been a mess since that day - my head, my life, all of it. I don’t really know who I am anymore; I went to sleep as the disappointing druggie I always was and woke up like some kind of… supercharged Captain America.”

Your brows shot up in surprise, “A what?”

You weren’t quite sure about the look that Bob gave you, something that seemed amused by and smitten with your reaction, but it made your heart skip, especially when his eyes trailed down to your lips, studying your face as closely as you had his. He grinned, and for a split second, you felt his body shift, thinking you caught him leaning in just a little.

“Yeah, uh…” he laughed, the sound vibrating from his chest to yours, “I can do a lot.”

“Huh…” you said dumbly, nearly at a loss for words. ‘Supercharged Captain America’ was a pretty bold claim, after all, “You’ll explain it all eventually?”

“Promise.” The two of you stared at each other for a long beat, and again you thought that maybe you felt Bob shifting closer to you. He clenched his jaw while looking down shyly, “Can I, uh… ask a potentially embarrassing question?”

You huffed out a small laugh, using your hold on his cheeks to tilt his gaze back to you, “Something more embarrassing than the fact that I’ve stared at a picture of you so often that I drew it? I don’t think you can top that.”

Bob smiled at your attempted levity, though he still appeared nervous, which in turn made a course of anxious energy pass through you, “Well, I think asking to kiss you after my little episode might take the cake, so…”

Your heart skipped before it began to drum wildly, mouth gaping in surprise as you looked between his eyes. Did you somehow mishear him? As the question crossed your mind, you already knew you sure as shit didn’t, though that did nothing to stop the jittering you felt in your limbs.

Bob stared down at you timidly, as if preparing himself for rejection. A charmed smile slowly broke out across your lips as you composed yourself, taking a deep, shaky breath; your hands grew a touch more firm as you continued to hold his jaw tenderly.

Your voice came out more shy than you had expected, gaze dropping down for a timid beat, “You don’t even have to ask.”

Bob looked both surprised and gratified, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to make of your answer, if you were, in fact, giving him permission to kiss you. Your grin grew even larger at how sweet his expression was, your hands trailing from his jaw to the back of his neck again, pulling him in close. He gasped nervously, breath warm against your lips as you lingered there for a moment, your noses ever so gently brushing together.

“That was a yes, Bob.” You whispered sweetly, hearing a faint, anxious ringing in your ear. His grip on you became more solid, one hand pressed steadily to the small of your back as the other snaked up between you to gently cup your cheek, fingertips soft along your jaw as you leaned into the touch. For a moment, the two of you lingered there, waiting for the other to move first or change their mind, your nerves on high. 

And then, after a final beat of anticipation, Bob’s lips were on yours, gentle and hesitant, far sweeter than any kiss you’d ever experienced before. You took a sharp breath through your nose as you felt a spark shoot up your body, fingers twisting lightly in his hair as you pressed closer, eager yet trepidatious as you kissed him back.

To your surprise, though, Bob’s lips broke from yours in the very next second, as if he was only permitted that brief moment; it caused your brow to furrow as a yearning sigh escaped you. Your eyes fluttered open in confusion as you met his gaze, unable to restrain the teasing in your expression as you noticed the uncertainty still in his face.

Despite the excitable stuttering of your heartbeat, you quipped softly, “Don’t tell me that’s it.”

Bob looked taken aback and nervous as you kept him close, your breaths mingling together, heat coursing between your bodies, “I didn’t want to be--”

“Bob, kiss me.” You affirmed, drawing his lips back down to yours with renewed confidence, as if his own hesitation bolstered your bravery.

This time, the two of you were less coordinated as your lips crashed together again, sloppy and wanton as your heart beat loudly, excitably. Bob’s hand flexed on your back as if he longed for the feel of you, a needy sound rising in his throat that caused your toes to curl. It was like a fire suddenly lit beneath you, the kiss starved and desperate as you pressed firmly against him, restraining the desire to moan into his mouth.

The hand that Bob pressed to your cheek made a fast, hot trail down your body to wrap around you, molding you together in a seamless, solid embrace. The current of energy between you was feverish and yet tender, like static electricity daring to work its way out. Your lips were urgent against one another’s as you gave Bob’s hair a gentle tug, hearing another sound of pleasure in his throat as you clung tighter to him, feeling your knees go weak.

Your tongue hungrily swiped along his lower lip, your nails scratching pleasantly at the base of his skull; you could feel the deep inhale in his chest, his fingers clenching tightly against your back. When he opened his mouth, you let out a satisfied sigh, arms winding even tighter around his neck. God, he tasted so right, like something you didn’t realize you were missing; you could stay here forever if he’d let you, breathing him in like fresh air.

And suddenly you heard a wolf whistle, though you paid it no mind; Bob, however, abruptly pulled his lips from yours with a gasp of air, gaze looking around with the cutest look of surprised confusion that you’d ever seen. Through hooded eyes, you stared up at his face while trying to catch your breath, chest heaving against his. Despite knowing that someone had taken notice of you two sucking face, you couldn’t help the charmed smile that broke out across your lips, a rush of heat rising in your cheeks.

You followed Bob’s line of sight, but whoever was the culprit behind the wolf whistle was already gone, causing you to laugh with content delight. You brought your hand to his cheek again, turning his face back to yours so you could look between his eyes fondly.

“Guess that’s our cue?” You teased, causing Bob’s expression to mirror yours. He looked between your eyes and lips for a moment, his hand mindlessly caressing up and down your spine; it almost made you shiver.

“Guess so…” He nearly sounded disappointed, causing your smile to grow wider. His brow furrowed thoughtfully as he leaned in a little, your foreheads pressing together gently; you let out a small sigh, “Maybe we don’t have to call it a night just yet?”

Bob’s hopeful, innocent tone was so sweet that it made your heart swell. You bit your lip as his lashes fluttered against yours before he pulled back to meet your eyes, hopeful that you'd say yes, that you two could spend even a little more time together.

“Your super secret government babysitters aren’t gonna miss you if you’re gone too long?” You joked, a cheeky little smile plastered across your face, causing Bob to laugh with a conspiratory look.

“Not to make it weird, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they were already keeping an eye on us.”

“Yeesh,” you gave an exaggerated cringe, “no sense of privacy, huh? Might as well just invite them along next time if they're gonna be that nosy.”

Bob shook his head with a grin, looking down for a moment, “I’m sure that’ll go over real well.”

“I don't know about you, but I think I can make it work.” You continued to tease. When Bob met your eyes again, you leaned in close, lips just a breath away from his, “Walk me to the subway stop, at least. Maybe ride to my stop if that isn’t out of the way for you? I’ll give you a call soon… we can plan a real date or something?”

“Oh, so you do know that the phone works both ways?” Bob taunted, causing you to roll your eyes, though your cheeks grew hot as you grinned, “Here I thought I was just bothering you.”

“You never bothered me; I was the one that gave you my number, remember? I just… got nervous each time I thought about calling you first.” You explained, embarrassed by the admission, though it caused Bob’s expression to brighten even more, as if he was charmed by your hesitation in the same way that you were charmed by his.

“Call me next time you can’t sleep.” He offered sweetly, “Promise?”

You hummed pleasantly, quickly nodding your head as Bob leaned in close. With his lips brushing against yours, you whispered back simply, “Promise.”

.

.

addt. a.n: I've already got an idea or two cooking for more Bob fics in the future, including one that would continue this narrative! Thank you for reading 🖤

[ysrjune]

hii there hope all is well i was curious if i could suggest a cute little fic or something of teen!dad scott’s first father’s day and/or mother’s day ? i love your teen!dad scott barringer it’s super cute

a/n: thank youuu ☺️ I love writing teen dad Scott. I'm so glad people are requesting him again!

For Father's Day, Scott's dad wanted to take a trip to Las Vegas with everyone. Your parents let you go since his parents would be the ones taking you (they just wanted you gone.. and you can imagine why.) Leo was now 1 year old. Mother's day had passed, so your first one was over, but now it was Scott's first Father's Day. It was just 2 days before Father's Day had actually come up. You all wanted to explore around the city before celebrating Scott and his father.

Waiting in the airport was fine. Leo didn't fuss much, but Scott did. He was hungry, and his back was hurting from sitting down. At least it was only an hour wait to board the plane. To pass time, he began to play with Leo. "Who's this?" Scott shows the mickey plushie to Leo. "Mick!!!" He claps with a smile. "Yeahh. Good job, weirdo." Scott smiles back.

The plane ride was also good. Leo didn't cry or make loud noises. He was calm and luckily, so was Scott. At the hotel, you and your family of 3 had your own room. It still had two beds, so you figured you could just leave the suitcases there or something since there was no use for it. "It's so hot here." Scott complains immediately. "I don't get why people actually live in Nevada. It's literally a desert." He groans and removes his shirt then quickly makes his way to turn on the AC. "You're so dramatic." You roll your eyes and set Leo on a bed.

"Aren't you hot, sport?" Scott lays on the bed with the baby and twirls his hair. The baby babbled nonsense, making Scott smile. "Me too but your mama thinks I'm crazy." He tsks and shakes his head. "One day you're gonna be just like me and walk around the house in your underwear to annoy her." He tickles Leo.

—

That night (to avoid the heat) you all went down to the strip to check what they had. Many restaurants and casinos. There were also girls who were practically half naked to take photos with. "Stop staring." You nudge Scott in the chest as they walk by. "I wasnt!" He whines. He definitely was.. but so were you if you were being honest with yourself.

The night was great. Walking around and then going to dinner then walking around again.. your feet and legs ached but it was worth it. Scott's parents wanted Leo that night because they just loved the cutie so much. So guess what that led to? Scott acting like the horny 17 year old he is. The only reason you agreed to have sex with him for the first time in a year was because he actually had condoms. Wouldn't want another baby..

—

Father's day finally came around, and Scott was actually excited. Another day out of the year that got to be about him! He showered before you did, so he was also ready before you. He watched you do your makeup and put on a pretty outfit after you got out. He was staring in awe. You're the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. "Stretchmarks look good on you." Scott compliments. Before you had Leo, he used to think they were sort of freaky looking, but now that you have them because of Leo, he thinks they're cool.

Scott knew you were insecure about them. They were mostly faded by now, but they were still there. Often, Scott would kiss them and make you feel like they were nothing to be ashamed of. "Baby's first drawings, they say." He chuckles and kiss your lips. Leo coos from the bed and Scott goes to pick him up. "Look at you, getting cuter and cuter by the day." Scott kisses his sons face. He's never like this in public. This is a side of Scott that no one else but you and occasionally his parents got to see.

In the morning, the plan was breakfast and then hit up a few stores. Then it would be lunch and walk around again, then head back to the hotel to rest, and for dinner, well.. dinner at a new restaurant. Going to stores was your favorite part. Scott had been wanting new sun glasses, so you took him to a store that sold them. He tried on a bunch of different styles of them and you got a ton of goofy photos out of it. He ended up wanting red ones (which was odd since he doesn't like colored sunglasses) just because they had cherries and dice on the side of them. "They're so badass." He explained them as.

By the end of the day, everyone was so tired and just wanted to rest in their rooms. You, Scott, and Leo were in the bed, under the blankets, in your pj's, watching TV. Leo was between you two, playing with his toys. Scott was dozing off. So basically, you were the one watching TV. "Daddy!!" Leo giggles and crawls over to Scott. The blonde groans dramatically. "Uuughhhh. Yes Leo? What do you want now? A bottle, a hug? my soul?" He says with no bark behind it. Of course Leo didn't understand. He just stared into his dad's eyes with his mouth open.

"I love you, ugly." He traps Leo in his arms and kisses him. "Hey, don't call him that!" You look at Scott. "He is though." He really wasn't. Leo was the cutest baby ever. "Mm," You hum. "Well, I love you. Ugly." You smile at Scott and kiss him. He laughs and shakes his head. "I love you more, Beautiful."

@bxbyysstuff @anakinstwinklebunny @lovethestarrs @valloos @anisangeldust @xo-yaaaaaasxo @anakinca @dollfilmz @alexlovesysrjune @sockiess @sythethecarrot @speaknow-sw @loveamira @alealuvshayden @mvst4far

[moesthoughts]

my aching bones | party time ( photo 03 )

chapter summary : After the win at nationals, everyone is stressed both about allie and the thought of packing. Despite your efforts not to board a plane, coach martinez insists, and you can’t say no to him. Lottie, hoping to alleviate the stress, decides to throw a victory party the night before the team departs.

warnings : alcohol, drug use, nat flirting and lowkey leaving you high and dry, mental health topics, suggestive themes

The locker room was tense, everyone either looking at the floor or they have their head buried in their hands. You’re in the corner, pretending to mess with your camera so you don’t worry yourself to bits over the uneasiness settling in the room. Van is pacing back and forth, she is obviously stressed. You can’t blame her, losing a teammate right before you’re about to fly to nationals, that’s difficult. The silence was painful, you stop fidgeting with your camera due to how loud it was. You glance over at Nat, whose leg was bouncing rapidly, her hand over her mouth. Everyone is stressing, not being able to see how Allie is doing must be awful. You regret not getting to know her better, she’s too popular and annoying for your liking. Even then, she didn’t deserve to break her leg.

“I mean, It can’t be that bad right?”

Jackie is the one to break the silence, as usual. Of course, she’s the team captain. It’s one of her jobs to try to alleviate tension and build the team up. You notice her words don’t work, the girls stare at her in disbelief, some picking up their stuff and leaving. Jackie bites her lip and leans on the wall behind her, averting her eyes to the floor. Nat scoffs, and looks towards Taissa who has the face akin to a guilty dog. You wonder if her plan was what caused that to happen, “freezing her out”. You understand now what she meant. You feel indifferent, as much as Taissa is a good friend, what she did today was horrible. Somewhere inside of you knows she didn’t want it to end up with Allie being hurt, knowing her, she’ll keep her strategy a secret.

“You could see her fucking bone, Jackie.”

Nat retorts, shoving her clothes into her soccer bag aggressively. She’s obviously still angry from earlier, Taissa’s stubbornness and nobody backing her up, she’s mentioned she feels alone with the team. Jackie opens her mouth to argue back but second guesses herself, walking sheepishly over to Shauna, who seems as guilty as Tai. You think about speaking up, asking about the term “freezing out”, but you know it isn’t your place, especially not being apart of the team. You stand up and lean onto the lockers, giving Nat a gentle look when she glances your way. Her face softens when you both make eye contact, she feels bad that you have to experience everyone bickering in the locker room. You all jump when Lottie slams her locker, looking at everyone with an annoyed look.

“Are you all gonna keep arguing, or are you going to get ready for the party at my place tonight?”

She announces, picking up her back and storming out of the locker room, her steps echoing followed with her slamming the door. Everyone stays silent before moving to gather their things, Nat grabs your wrist and starts walking towards the exit of the locker room. She desperately wants to get wasted and forget the sight of Allie’s leg, and you do as well.

“Nice work Taissa.”

Nat makes sure to speak up before dragging you out of the room.

Just like before the game for nationals, Nat and you are cooped up in your room, getting ready for the party. You have three dresses on your bed to pick from, and you’re struggling quite a bit. Nat eyes you from her seat across the room, she’s already dressed and her makeup was done. She watches how your eyebrows pinch together while you’re deep in thought, shifting weight between your feet to help your brain juices flow. You’re a gorgeous sight, your hair already done with shiny jewelry complimenting your skin. She bites a smirk back as you pick up a dress, looking at her curiosity.

“Hey, Nat. Can you tell me which one looks the best?”

You ask, smiling as she nods right away. You start lifting up the dresses by their hangers, pressing them to your body. Nat hums while you continuously switch between them, she can’t tell what will look best without you trying them on. She knows you’d look amazing in anything you wear anyway, but she wants to pick the best option.

“Can you try them on? It’s kinda hard to tell with you just holding them up.”

The lightbulb in your head finally turns on, you let out a small “ohh..” sound before picking up one of the dresses, a simple blue one, a floral pattern tracing the bottom of it. You turn to open your door, planning to head to the bathroom. Nat calls out your name, causing you to whip your head around. You don’t recognize the look she has on your face, but you notice how her cheeks are ever so slightly burning red. You press your back against the door, you want to know what’s going through her mind while looking at you like that. You feel nervous, small. Maybe in a good way, you’re not sure.

“Just change here, I can look away or— something.”

Nat croaks out, instantly avoiding your gaze. Your face lights up like the fourth of july, your mind wandering some place else. She didn’t mean it in an explicit way, but the way you look at her, your face beat red, maybe she did.

“Are.. you sure?”

“Very.”

Her reply was quick, making butterflies swarm in your stomach. You turn your back to her, holding your breath as you slip off your clothes slowly but surely, the thought of her eyes possibly being on you plaguing your mind. You face Nat again, smoothing over the blue dress. She instantly notices how it’s too short for you, it was from freshman year home coming. So you repeat the process over again for the other two dresses, your third one being a dark brown that compliments your body. She looks you up and down, her hand covering her mouth as she drinks in the sight.

“I like— That one’s good.”

Nat tries to be nonchalant, getting up and quickly grabbing your keys before you can. As she exits your room you finally breathe, oxygen has never felt so amazing. You can’t shake the image of her eyes checking you out, the small compliments she was uttering under her breath, thinking you couldn’t hear her. You quickly grab your jacket and head after her, your legs weak due to your nervousness.

The sound of people chatting floods your ears as you walk onto Lottie’s property, sticking close behind Nat. You’ve never been to a party before, mostly because you haven’t been invited to any, except for the party animals that constantly have an open crib. You reach out to grab Nat’s arm before noticing that she left your side to talk with her other friends, You recognize Kevyn right away, but you always forget the other one’s name. You sigh and scan for the other girls, luckily your eyes land on Shauna. She is propped up on someone’s truck, her eyes focusing on something in the distance. You make your way to her, leaning beside her on the vehicle. She doesn’t seem to notice you, her attention glued somewhere else.

“Have you ever yearned for something so much, it like.. hurts you?”

It startles you when she speaks, her tone laced with pain. You finally look over to where she’s staring, Jackie and her boyfriend Jeff, dancing and having fun. You assumed that Shauna and her have something together, but you didn’t know that it’s this bad. It causes you to glance over to Nat, laughing and talking with her friends, fidgeting with a baggie in her hands. You do know what it’s like to yearn, several hard months wanting Natalie fucking Scatorccio. It’s not as heart breaking as what Shauna is going through, you turn back to the other girl.

“Yeah, I do.”

A soft smile blooms on the other girl’s lips, she mutters something before stumbling off, she’s obviously drunk. Finally, Nat makes her way over to you, two cups of beer in hand. She seems more happy than usual, her pupils dilated with glassy eyes. You smile and take the extra cup as she hands it to you, gulping it down right away. It’s been a rough day, and you don’t want to think about it.

“Shit dude, slow down.”

Nat’s tone is sweet like honey, her hand resting on your back. You can’t tell if the alcohol was hitting you right away, or if Nat was always this bold. You snake your arms around her neck, trying to bite back the smile curving on your lips. As you try to lean in closer you hear yelling in the distance, much to the fake blonde’s dismay you turn your head. It’s Shauna and Taissa, bickering loudly. You slip away from Nat’s grasp before heading over to their direction, the other girl following after you.

“Just admit you did it on purpose.”

Shauna barks, trailing after Tai as she backs away slightly. The other girls have already gathered around the situation, looks being exchanged. Laura Lee looks like she’s about to butt in, but Lottie hooks her arm around hers, keeping her mouth shut. It is obvious what they’re arguing about, Allie’s broken leg. You’re surprised that Shauna is finally speaking up about it, her guilt was probably eating her up. They say drunk words are sober thoughts, and Shauna is letting all hers out.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, you fucking sociopath.”

Van inserts herself into the argument quickly, placing a hand onto Shauna’s shoulder. Lottie mumbles a curse under her breath, looking away from the situation.

“Woah— calm down.”

“No, listen. We won’t need to deal with the ‘Allie problem’ anymore because Taissa fixed it for us.”

Taissa grumbles, shoving her hands into her pockets. She doesn’t make it obvious, but she’s worrying. Laura Lee questions the situation, looking towards Nat and you for answers. Nat has never looked so satisfied as she does now, a smirk curls onto her lips.

“She’s talking about Taissa’s little plan.”

“Oh, please. Since when did you give a shit? Don’t you have a bong to hit or.. a dick to suck?”

Your eyebrows furrow, previously you felt indifferent about Taissa. Though, she insulted your friend. You’re so angry, but confused, you don’t know if you should butt in or not. You open your mouth to speak—

“Don’t speak to her like that!”

Shauna takes the words from your mouth, and you return to keeping your peace, your foot tapping on the ground anxiously. Fights were never your thing, still aren’t. Yet here you are, about to throw that fear out the window for Nat. Your fingers curl into the fabric of your jacket, trying to do anything but glance at any of the girls fighting, afraid that you’ll get dragged into whatever this is.

“Oh, fuck off Shauna. I don’t need you to defend me, last I checked you were fine with the whole ‘freeze her out’ strategy.”

Nat’s response wasn’t expected, you look at her with confusion, everyone else following in suit. If this is your first experience at a yellow jackets hangout, you’re not sure you want to go out with them again. Though, throwing a party after a high tension practice, everyone is drunk and angry. You don’t blame them. After Laura Lee questions the situation again they all collectively yell at her, before starting to yell at each other. You inch away from the scene, rolling your eyes as Randy yells “Cat fight”. You can’t stop this, nor did you want to. You don’t need to play hero, especially for a team you photograph for. As you slowly make it out of the area, Jackie practically runs you over, storming towards the fight. You watch as she effortlessly makes them quiet down, signaling them to follow her. You head in the opposite direction to your car, not caring how drunk you are.

You take a drag of the cigarette you just lit, throwing your head back onto the headrest behind you. You’re slowly starting to regret ever coming to this party, you don’t fit in, you’re not social, and certainly not well equipped for an argument. You aren’t mad at them, it’s not your place to be frustrated. The only person who got on your nerves was Tai, who seems like such a nice girl. You wonder if it’s all just a facade for people to like her, fake people are everywhere after all. You don’t move from your position once you hear the door open and close. A reminder that you’re supposed to drive Nat back home, a heavy sigh emits from her lips. joining you in resting on the headrests.

“Im so fucking high.”

She breaks the silence, rubbing her temples. You start the car, not wanting her to endure a headache in a car you just hot boxed. You would kill a man to be high right now, that cup of beer not hitting the way it’s supposed to. You want to go back to that feeling when you were so close to pressing your lips against Nat’s, desperately wanting to kiss way all of her lip stick. Your bones ache with need, picturing all these fantasies that likely happen. Your hand grips the steering wheel as you back out of Lottie’s driveway.

“So.. your house?”

a/n : HIII.. two updates in a week wow!! I got a sudden rush of motivation for Nat.. I’m hopelessly in love. ALSO THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR 300 FOLLOWERS! It was literally the beginning of this month when I just hit 100.. so crazy 🤍

a/n : again, taglist is still open! lmk if you want on

taglist — @mlovesunicorns @t-wylia @bisexual-stalin @theoreticalfreak @flurpe @girlie955 @firefl1ghts @lilliesandrosiess @princessleprechaunnn @joaniscruzing @wtfisthisnoclueman @sleepyjackets @stupendousbananasharkcop @zindoriyo @moonyxstars @scatorcciosbabe @pacatica

[monstersflashlight]

Patreon Commission for Vamp

A/N: You can find all the other Ambrose stories here (now in order).

Nightime activities

Minotaur (Ambrose) x chubby fem!reader || exhibitionism, masturbation, UST, voyeurism

You’d hung out a few times already. Enough times for him to feel like he was losing his mind every time you showed up. But at the same time, it made him feel amazing to be near you, to get to know you at your own pace. He knew he should say something, everyone urged him to, but he didn’t want to pressure you. He wasn’t even sure you liked him that way.

But you slowly became friends, really good friends, so it was only logical that you would spend more time together, alone or with other people. And everything with you felt so easy and so unproblematic (if you ignored is blue balls)...

That’s why, when he invited you to watch a movie and have dinner at his place, he wasn’t expecting it to be as hard as it is. You smell amazing, sweet and aroused and everything he ever dreamed of. Your scent is permeating everything in his space, and it only makes his brain short-circuit even more. By the time the movie’s credits are rolling and you smell content and tired, his own body is jittery with nerves.

Just friends, he reminds himself.

You yawn two times in a row, making him chuckle as he gets up and brings the blankets and pillows out of the closet in the hallway.

“Do you need something else?” He asks, eager to please you any way he can. “Are you sure you don’t want to take my bed? I’ll take the couch,” he offers again. You already argued (but not really) about it before.

And as well as before, you answer: “I’m not taking your bed. You sleep there, this couch is not big enough for you.” Your voice’s amused, and he has to fight the blush he can feel creeping up his cheeks.

He can’t stop his mouth from saying: “But I can…”

“No. Stop it. You sleep in your bed and I sleep on the sofa, it’s okay.” You turn to him with a raised finger and looking so cute he has to bite the inside of his cheek until he tastes blood not to coo.

“Okay, sunshine.” There’s irony in his tone, but deep down he knows the pet name is so much more.

So he deflects the butterflies in his stomach trying to be a good guest. “Can I offer you some more blankets or another pillow or…”

You are rummaging through your bag when you let out a distressed sound. “Uh-oh.”

His instincts are on alert instantly: “What’s wrong?”

“I… I kind of forgot my pajamas. Shit,” you curse. He almost laughs, but the amusement dies when you continue talking: “Could you… Could you maybe let me borrow a shirt or something?” You ask, the blush on your cheeks so endearing he loses track of thought for a second before he can fully process.

“Ye- yes. Okay. I’ll do that. I’ll be right back,” he knows he’s stuttering, but his brain’s barely running at the thought of you wearing one of his shirts.

He doesn’t even know how he’s still standing as all the blood in his body rushed to his dick as he stumbles back to his room to look a shirt that isn’t going to look like a dress on you. After looking around, he realizes there’s nothing you could wear that wouldn’t pool around your short frame. Fuck.

After very little deliberation, he takes one of his most used shirts, trying not to overthink it too much, and ignoring why he grabs one of the shirts that smells of him the most. He can’t get into it. He won’t. So he walks back to the living room, where you are sitting on the couch, texting someone furiously.

“I hope this is okay,” he says, more nervous than before, handling you the shirt and bouncing on his hooves awkwardly.

“This will do, thank you!” The second you get up and cross the distance between the two of you, grabbing the shirt and hugging his middle, he forgets how the world works, how his brain is supposed to feel something that’s not just pure elation at his mate pressing against him.

And then he realizes he has another problem, a growing problem to be exact, a big growing problem that you are about to feel against your chest if he doesn’t get away fast enough. So he gently pushes you back, trying not to feel bad about the puppy dog eyes you are sending his way, as he blinks slowly and turns around before you can anything.

“I’m going to shower, good night!” He basically runs to the bathroom, closing the door behind himself and realizing a second later that he forgot his clothes in his room, but now it’s too late to go back for them. Guess he’s going to walk back to his room with just a towel.

But as soon as his (very cold) shower is over, he realizes his mistake. Because when he steps out in the hallway, he can hear faint noises coming from the living-room.

He doesn’t fully process them until he’s right at the entrance of the living-room, the door slightly open, just enough for him to see inside. Just enough to see your body moving under the blankets as you bite down on the pillow he gave you. But even then, the fabric can’t hold your tiny whimpers and moans as he realizes a second too late what you are doing.

You are masturbating, on his living room, with his shirt on and his scent all around you.

Oh, fuck.

Oh, fuck.

He needs to leave, he needs to go back to his room and leave you to it. It wouldn’t be okay to stay there, right? That would be an invasion of your privacy or something. But he can’t seem to move, his hooves are glued to the floor and his eyes are glued to the way the blankets are moving as you finger fuck yourself. Even from there, he can hear how wet you are, how fucking sinful your fingers sound as you play with what he knows is a perfect pussy.

Fuck. His dick is so hard he fears it’s going to tear through the towel around his waist. Without realizing (or more like without trying to stop it), his hand releases the knot on the side of the towel, leaving him naked in his hallway.

His hand finds his dick instantly, achingly hard, squeezing the base of his shaft as he bites down on his tongue not to let out the moan threatening to erupt. You have no qualms about it, though, your tiny moans ringing in his ears as if they were thunder, sending lighting down his spine as he stares.

You push the blankets off, and he can see the way his shirt is riding up and it’s resting against your belly, your hand inside black panties that look lacy and he has the urge to rip away so he can see everything. But because he can’t exactly do that, he only puts his hand on his mouth and bites down to avoid crying out as his hand starts moving at the pace your hand does. Your head is thrown back, and your knees are far apart, almost exposing what he wants to see the most.

You are whimpering, your tiny teeth biting your lower lip as you try and fail to keep quiet. He’s losing his mind, he can smell your arousal, so thick in the air and so mixed with his that it’s almost suffocating. But so good he would die happy if it came to it.

His hand is currently playing with his balls as your wrist moves from side to side, your tiny fingers probably rubbing over your little pearl that he’s salivating to taste. Your other hand joins the first, slipping down your panties until he’s panting and his own hand is back on his shaft.

But he doesn’t jerk himself off, not exactly, his hips bulk against his hand as he imagines he’s the one fucking your tight pussy and not your fingers. He’s not even sure he could fit, but damn if he doesn’t want to try, if he doesn’t need to see your tiny human pussy take his minotaur dick until you are crying with the stretch, screaming his name until you are a mess around him.

His eyes never leave your moving form on the couch, his hand squeezing rhythmically around the base to stop the orgasm threatening to arrive too soon. But the second you whisper his name as your hips start moving erratically, he loses it.

His groan muffled by his hand as he covers the tip of his dick to catch most of the mess. You are breathing hard on the couch, your fingers lazily rubbing over what he’s sure a mess of juices that he aches to taste, but that only turns him on more.

His hand’s rubbing his seed over his shaft as he uses it to jerk himself off languidly, oversensitiveness sending sparks of pleasure and pain to his brain and making his knees go weak under him. He falls to his knees the same way he would fall in front of you if you asked, the thud alerting you and making you look his way.

He knows there’s no way you see him, but the spark of intensity in your eyes before you close them is enough to make his breath catch. Fuck. He waits there, not moving a muscle, his hand holding his half-hard dick as you relax on the cushions, until your breathing evens out and you fall fast asleep.

Only then, he cleans his hand on the towel on the floor and carries it back to his room. His body is languid as he falls back onto his bed, his knees still weak. He closes his eyes and breathes in the scent that’s still burned inside his brain: the mix of you and him.

He falls asleep with a spent dick and images to last him forever, but also with the realization that he might be more screwed than he thought. And he’s not sure he cares.

[bgomtori]

☆ not another song about love - c.bg

synopsis - he hates everything about you, you stuck to him like glue without his permission, he wants you to go away, but why is his heart beating so fast whenever you're around?

-> rockstar! beomgyu x reader

-> one sided enemies to lovers, love-hate relationship, "i hate you so much, but.." trope.

-> warnings! suggestive, angst-comfort. beomgyu's a bitch to yn, but it's for the plot. beomgyu and yn vapes, the whole band does. (don't vape guys). yn is oblivious, she just allows beomgyu to be mean to her. theyre in the same fg btw

-> notes! my last and final fic before i stop writing completely! i hope you guys enjoy this fic as much as i enjoyed writing it :3 i will miss you guys, i won't disappear completely, i just won't post/write at all from now on. thank you for your support everyone!

he hates you, he hates the way your voice makes his heart palpatate at a rate he despises, he hates the fact that when your touch lingers on his skin, making him crave more for your touch. he hates the way his eyes naturally wander to your lips, wanting to at least have a sense of how they feel against his. why is it when he wants to push you away, you gravitate closer to him. you're annoying, beomgyu hates it, but he hates it when you're away too.

"congrats!! that show was amazing, i wished that it was longer though.." your smile beamed, running towards the band that had just ended their mini gig. the band stopped in their track, turning to meet your radiant smile.

"if it isn't our favourite supporter." ryujin laughed, giving you a tight hug which you reciprocated. you gave everyone a hug, telling them good job and complimenting them, that was until you came to beomgyu.

"good job gyu, you looked really good up there." you ruffled his hair, knowing that he didn't like it when you hugged him. his face grimaced, pretending as if he didn't enjoy that head pat.

"i'm going out for a while." beomgyu announced, hastily leaving without turning back, you looked at his fellow bandmates, only to be met with a shrug.

"he's just angsty, don't worry about him. come on, let's go get some drinks." minjeong and ryujin swung their arms around your shoulders, dragging you out of the hallways and into the bar they just performed in, leaving jeongin and heeseung to walk behind.

meanwhile with beomgyu, he walked to the nearby alleyway, leaning against the bricked up walls, taking out his vape pen from his pocket, placing it against his mouth, inhaling the addictive nicotine and strawberry flavouring. sighing out the fumes, he recalled to when he made constant eye contact with you during his gig, his heart racing whenever he saw you clapping along with the beat. he hated this fluttering feeling, he wanted it to disappear immediately.

"beomgyu?" speak of the devil, you decided to appear right beside him when he was trying to forget about you.

"what are you doing wandering around here?" beomgyu asked, concerned, especially since it was dark out.

"they're all drunk, it's hard to cope with their noise, so i decided to find you." you explained, taking a step closer to beomgyu. beomgyu flinched as you leaned against his arm, humming slightly at the warmth against your cheek, his face feeling warmer than usual. there was barely a gap between you two, beomgyu could smell the vanilla scented perfume you'd always apply on, his hands slowly turning clammy as he thought about you.

"are you coming to the new year's festival? i heard from heeseung that they're planning to watch the fireworks." you asked. beomgyu hummed in response, staring blankly at the wall infront of him, inhaling the fruity fumes.

"can i take one puff?" beomgyu's head turned to you almost instantly, eyes widened.

"you vape?"

"not exactly, i tried it a few times because of ryujin.." you explained, smiling sheepishly. beomgyu frowned at your words, you were supposed to be a sweet, innocent girl that brought light to his band, and not become exactly like how they were. you noticed how hesitant he was when he handed you his vape pen, you eyed him mischieviously, " aww, are you concerned for me?"

"what makes you think that? just take a puff and return it to me." he retorted. you giggled at his quick response, placing the vape pod against your lips, inhaling the cold, icy fumes, the strawberry flavour immediately hitting your taste buds.

"not bad to be honest." you mumbled, returning, the pod to beomgyu, whose ears were turning to a light shade of red. he doesn't know if it was the nicotine taking effect, but his heart was racing at the thought that your lips were directly on the mouth piece of the vape, he technically had an indirect kiss with you. for the rest of the evening, he couldn't even focus on the words you were rambling about, all he could think about was you, and he absolutely despises it.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

it was the day of the new year festival, mini pop-up booths scattered around the venue, along with food stalls that had a plethora of snacks and drinks. you linked your arms with ryujin and minjeong, running around the place with them, trying to kill some time before the fireworks.

"wait give me some of that." jeongin shouted at heeseung, his hands about to grab a handful of his fries.

"buy your own." heeseung yelled back, using his hands to protect his flavourful fries from jeongin's grasp. beomgyu shook his head, eating the churros he bought from the same stall, waiting for you and the other two girls to come back from the claw machines.

"AH SHIT WHAT THE FUCK THIS THING IS RIGGED." ryujin cried out, shaking the machine, you swore she was going to break it. you attempted to calm her down, but it didn't work as minjeong only fuelled her anger at the claw machine.

"yea fuck that shit up!!" minjeong cheered at the side. you sighed, realising that there was no hope to calming your best friend down, you could only stand beside her and watch her fail miserably in catching the stuffed toy.

"ryujin, it's fine, we're gonna be broke if you continue." you grabbed onto ryujin's arm, pulling her away from the claw machine, "i can find something else, it doesn't have to be this."

"but you like that one." she whined, you smiled at her, "it's fine! i'm sure that there are other things here that i'll like."

the three of you emerged from the thousands of claw machines, finally reuniting with the boys. jeongin groaned about how slow the three of you were, and how his legs were about to snap off because of standing.

"don't be dramatic." minjeong rolled her eyes, causing a slight arguement between the two, ryujin joining in the conflict to add fuel to the fire, leaving you, heeseung, and beomgyu to trail behind them, pretending like they're non existent to you.

the walk was quiet, beomgyu and heeseung were talking to each other, leaving you to walk alone, no neccesarily, there was just a huge gap between you and the two males. your pace was slow, you wanted to see what each pop up stall has to offer, that was until you arrived at a jewellery stall, eyes immediately shining at 2 star clips that had a moon charm dangling from each of them. you seperated yourself from the two males, your feet immediately guiding you towards the stall.

you stared at the wide array of bracelets, clips and necklaces they had, only to fall back to the one that caught your eye in the first place.

"you shouldn't wander off by yourself." a deep voice sounded behind you, you flinched, turning back to meet beomgyu and heeseung's worried gaze. you gave them a shy smile, going back to look at the star clip that you really liked.

"are these nice? should i get them?" you turned to ask the two, placing the clips against your head.

"no they don't." beomgyu blurted out, causing him to get smacked in the head by heeseung. your smile dropped, letting out a soft, 'oh', before placing the clips down, thanking the storekeeper as you left.

"why are you so mean to her." heeseung sighs, beomgyu shrugs, his eyes landing on the 2 clips you just placed on the table.

"she just irks me out." he says, grabbing onto the star clips, giving the stall owner his card, ignoring the suspicious gaze heeseung was giving him.

"you don't have to lie." upon hearing the teasing tone heeseung was giving him, beomgyu pushed him away gently, sliding the clips into his pocket, walking away from his bandmate.

"come on beomgyu, don't give me the silent treatment. what's the actual reason?" heeseung wiggled his eyebrows, catching his breath after trying to run after beomgyu. beomgyu pursed his lips into a straight line, looking down at the ground, mumbling his words.

"whatt??"

"i said, i have feelings for her, but i just know she doesn't view me the same way." beomgyu rephrased his words, his face now turning red after confessing his feelings for you. heeseung looked at him stunned, "didn't know you had feelings to the point you might go insane.."

"shut up."

"you have a chance, talk to her before the fireworks start or something." heeseung gave beomgyu a pat on his back, running forward to catch up with the group that was in the distance, climbing up a hill. beomgyu jogged towards the friend group, his eyes frantically searching for you.

"yn." he grabbed your wrist, making you flinch, your eyebrows raised in confusion when beomgyu pulled you away from the friend group.

"what is it?" you asked harshly, still hurt from his previous words.

"i'm sorry."

"are you? if you were, you wouldn't have said that earlier." your lips started quivering, your heart still aching from his words, how it pierced through your heart. beomgyu couldn't bear the thought that you were hurt by his actions, he pulled out the star shaped clips, placing it against your hair.

"i lied, you look too pretty with it, it hurts my heart. i just didn't want to admit the fact that you had an effect on me. i'm truly sorry." beomgyu admitted, his thumb rubbing your knuckles, using his free hand to sweep away the hair from your face.

you stared at him in shock, your hand running through your hair, feeling the exact same clip you were eyeing earlier in your hair.

"why? don't you hate me?" you were confused at his actions, he would always give you a cold shoulder, or answer your dryly, you were under the impression that he despises your guts even though you were friends since primary school.

"i don't, i just.." his words trailed, unable to articulate the words he has been meaning to say.

"i've liked you since the very beginning, i just didn't want to grow attached to you, i'm afraid that i can't restrain myself from you." he confessed, your jaw slowly dropped at the confession, never in your 5 years of friendship, did you expect THE choi beomgyu liking you.

there was a lump in your throat, your heart was beating faster than it should have, you were speechless, unable to say anything. beomgyu took this as a sign of rejection, his lips turning into a sad smile, "it's fine if you don't like me back, i've treated you horribly, i just hope we can still remain friends that's all."

turning his back to you, about to walk away, back to your group of friends, you tugged on his sleeve. beomgyu watched as you tried collecting your thoughts, "you didn't even let me speak idiot." you grumbled, look him in the eye.

"i have feelings for you too, i didn't care if you treated me like shit, i just wanted to get closer to you.. but you kept pushing me away, so i thought it was one-sided." upon hearing those words come out of your mouth, beomgyu's face became warm, the loud chatters surrounding the two of you slowly quietened down, it was as if it was only both of you in this world.

"say something?" you pleaded, balling the fabric of his sleeve in your hand. beomgyu sighed, tucking the loose strand of hair behind your ear. it felt like there was a whole zoo in your stomach, you were so nervous as his thumb brushed the bottom of your lip.

before you could register, his lips was on yours, your breath hitched, slowly melting into the kiss. along with the sound of fireworks cracking in the background, this moment felt magical, like a fever dream. you pulled away from beomgyu, heat rushing to your cheeks, unable to look him in the eye. you felt your head being raised by him, his soft yet sharp features accentuated by the bright colours from the fireworks. he pulled you in once more, rougher than the first, you whined against his lips, causing him to go insane for you, that was until you both heard cheering beside you.

"you're eating her face off, are you that hungry." jeongin teased beomgyu, while ryujin and minjeong turned their phones to you.

"we got amazing pictures, we're sending this into the group chat." the tip of your ears was hot, it was embarrassing, you started chasing those two around, telling them to just send it to you. beomgyu watched you with lovesick eyes.

"come on loverboy, let's get more food and play some games, get a gift for your gift yea?" heeseung smirked, slinging him arm over beomgyu, walking towards the carnival games, whereas jeongin was yelling at the 3 of your to quit it. you groaned, briskly walking over to the boys with ryujin and minjeong, standing beside beomgyu.

"let's go to that game stall, they have the cutest plushies." you laced your fingers with beomgyu's, pulling him to the game booth you have been eyeing since the start of the festival.

now, your voice annoyed beomgyu a little less, always craving for your touch, and getting to kiss you whenever possible. he couldn't believe that after years of admiring, he finally has you wrapped around his finger, similar to how he's wrapped around your finger.

[txttletale]

after being interested from seeing you post about mtg but too intimidated by how complicated it seemed, a friend recently taught me how to play and ive been having so so so much fun!!! ive mostly just been playing standard/jump in on arena so far, but i wanna start building a commander deck soon. my wuestion here is twofold, i guess - a) do you know any commanders you consider easy or fun for beginners (colour doesnt really matter to me; ive been finding enjoyment in all of them so far, altho im sure ill develop a preference once i have a better grasp of the game lol) and b) whats your own personal favourite commanders?? ones you play or ones you just think are neat :) anyways thank you for being at least partially responsible for getting me into mtg, ive been having an absloute blast, i hope you have a very niceys day :)

yippee! i'm glad you're having fun, magic is a really deep and exciting game.

to point 1: i'm increasingly of the mind that apart from like, extreme edge cases where you're playing, like a mairsil combo deck and have to learn a bunch of specific sequencing and rules minutiae, i think that looking for an 'easy' commander is a very overrated. resonance and stickiness are a huge part of how easy it is to learn a card or deck's mechanics, so if you have a special little guy you love i would play him no matter how comparatively complex he is compared to, like, monogreen ramp

if there's one piece of general advice i'd give to a beginner, it's to steer away from 'feast or famine' type commanders: a lot of commanders, especiually since wotc started intentionally pritning 'commanders' rather than just legendary creatures, are enormous resource snowballs, such that letting them be on the board for a turn cycle or two will put their player unstoppably far ahead. unfortunately the correct counterplay to these kinds of commanders is for everyone to kill them instantly the moment they're cast and genreally not let their playtrs play the game -- so they often lead to having games where you are either being ganged up on and beaten to death or stomping everyone. some popular examples of commanders that i think create these play patterns are miirym, krenko mob boss, jodah the unifier, kinnan bonder prodigy, and korvol fae-cursed king.

so generally i tyhink especialyl as a newer player you will have fun with slightly lower power commanders who aren't wearing a big PLEASE KILL ME sign on their heads. but other than that i truly think you should pick a blorbo or gameplay style that appeals to you on a visceral, emoitional level, and find out if if it's actually fun to play or not. actually that reminds me, try to also pick a commander that, like, rewards you for executing your deck's gameplan, or helps you execute it, but isn't the sole engine behind your deck -- commander is full of good removal and board wipes, and you will have a lot more fun if you're playing a deck that can still function evne if your special guy is in time out.

to point 2: i have quite a few. my first commander and overall one of my favourite still is the celestial toymaker (nei lpatrick harris jumpscare). i love him because -- while he is an example of the kind of commander i think ultimately can lead to bad gameplay patterns where big parts of your deck are dead without him -- he turns this extremely stupid fucking mechanic into a real theme. i fucking loe playing my toymakre deck, and doing a silly voice and saying PLAY MY GAME... WHO WANTS TO PLAY MY GAME? every time i have some silly choice to force someone to make. play piles with meee (also esper control is a shell that's just really fun for me regardless of commander or theme so that helps a lot too)

other commanders i have that i really enjoy... i think gor muldrak is really cool, hios abiltiy is so odd and niche and finding ways to make use of it is so much fun. only good simic commander. tip: [peer pressure] is an awesome win condition for him.

i really enjoy zedruu also, for similar reasons to the toymaker: giving people stuff is such a funny mechanic, and while the commander gets osme flak because a lot of people build around lieke, dogshit cards that are unplayable if you don't have zedruu to donate them, i think you can build a much more fun and resilient zedruu deck by relying on symmetrical soft stax pieces and oubliette-style effects where it doesn't mater to you who owns it. getting to play perplexing chimera in that deck delights me.

gallia is great. straight up i made a deck for her because i think she's cute. her joy is just so infections, i don't even like gruul aggro as an archetype generally, but something about playing gallia and being like NO THOUGHTS HEAD EMPTY TURN SIDEWAYS ILL DISCARD WHAT I DISCARD is very refreshing considering i usually like playing very controlly-pillowforty high-interaction decks wth 50 quajillion counterstpells.

oh and finally... the red death. i fucking love goad, im the goad liker, i enjoy goad, and i set out to make a Good Goad Deck and immediately got sidetracked form any of the stronger commanders for the format by this stupid little bebo with the meme eyes. i donit know what happens in fallout 76 and i dont care this little guy is my friend and he is SO funny with cards like psychic possession. Our card draw :)

for an honorable mention, two decks i really love but not really because of their commander: i have a huge amount of fun playing the new zimone (who has displaced vorel of the hull clade) at the helm of my millennium calendar deck. it's fun to have a deck where i can slot in all the werird counter-dependent artifacts like lux artillery and darksteel reactor, and it's a very fun supervillanious feeling watching the table scramble to stop me as my Sinister Calendar ticks up

and i also have a zoraline eggs deck nbecause i loved bloomburrow bats, built a zoraline bats dekc, then thought, hmm, i could be doing al ot more with her than just bringing back mediocre bats for a small lifegain pawyoff. Liek bringing back mediocre artifacts that ic an crack for 2 life and a card draw. it's a very intricate little device of a deck once it gets going and although it's not very strong it's very very fun. looping an executiuoner's capsule or a tainted sigil is what its all about babey!

[dandysworld-meh-imagines]

Astro with a Sun Reader

Inspired by these lyrics from a Brazillian song [Translated]

The Sun decided to propose to the Moon

And the Moon, she said: Don't know, don't know, don't know

Give me a second

Astro With A Sun Reader Inspired By Some Lyrics!

I decided to make it something that the sun reader confesses (while also some headcanons with a sun reader)? I hope this is okay, dear anon, I didn't have many ideas for this. Here you go, thank you for requesting! <3

I also know someone who would REALLY like this, you know who you are <333

-Anna

-Something about Astro being the moon while you were the sun was something you really liked and found cool. It was something others noticed too and even talked about it with you two, finding it a pretty cool thing. Astro would have this soft moonlight around him when it got dark and you would have this warm sunlight instead. Astro's aura was soft, a bit cold but it felt comforting and so did your own, as you provided warmth and a feeling of safety to others, you two really were like day and night. He thought it was pretty cool and you find it amazing. He was someone that really intrigued you, funnily enough.

-Compared to Astro, you were pretty cheerful and often seen smiling, radiating this soft warm feeling around you when someone interacted with you. Astro was more quiet, usually preferring to take naps or read a book or two in the book club, spending time doing something quietly and you? You just had fun talking to the others, checking up on them with a happy smile. It was interesting to witness, honestly. It was also funny as you were literally a morning person and Astro was a night person, matching with the fact you are a sun and he is a moon toon. It's like the actual sun and moon itself came as the form of toons.

-Your dynamic with Astro was also a nice sight to witness. You know that Listener X Yapper trend? That's what basically it was with you two. Astro is a fantastic listener that replies here and there, hearing your words carefully even if they are a lot while you rambled about everything random. If you talked a lot and it was day, Astro really does try to stay awake but sometimes his eye is fighting sleep. It's not that he finds your talks boring or anything, he finds it comforting enough to sleep to your voice, showing you he was comfortable. You didn't mind though! You knew he was saving energy and power to give everyone nice dreams, after all!

-His company was something you find yourself longing more and more and loved to hang out with him. Even if he wasn't talking as much as the others, you genuinely didn't mind. Something about Astro felt.. really nice to be around with. Astro even threw good dreams at you which you got super excited about. He would even have to use his powers on you to make you sleep JUST because you were super excited to see some awesome dreams and couldn't get sleepy at all! You giggled and moved your feet happily whenever Astro got his powers ready to make you extremely sleepy. He found himself having a small smile when you did that, it felt nice seeing you so excited.

-Since you like to spend so much time with him, Astro makes an effort during the day to not fall so much asleep but he finds it difficult when you have this warmth and it reminds him when he covers himself in his trusty big warm blanket. Instead, he likes to chill with you during your dreams or even stick close as you have fun around or even just observe you from afar. If you want to sit down and talk with him, he has more energy and can listen to you for way longer now. He still likes to check in with the other's dreams but he definitely spends the most time in yours, just relaxing with you.

-You and him definitely grow closer and closer and really do enjoy each other's company, even if you have different levels of energy. Your soft light comfort each other with Astro finding comfort in your warm sunlight and you find it calming when his moonlight hits your face. You two hang out almost every single day but you also do hang out with your other fellow friends! You are someone who is bright and likes seeing others smile, after all! A smile from Astro is something that automatically makes you happy as well, even if his own is small, it's always nice to see!

-Astro does feel something for you but doesn't know what exactly it is. You, on the other hand? You caught on much earlier compared to Astro. You didn't know if you should confess or not, especially when you see that he smiles a lot more with you and his cheeks look deeper in color a lot as well. One day you decided to do it and confess to him, he stayed quiet as he listened to you talk about how you were feeling about him. If he doesn't feel the same, you just said that it was alright but you felt like he should know. Astro stayed quiet as he felt his heart race and his cheeks grew more warmer.

-Astro thinks about it as he looks concerned. He simply tells you that he needs time, he doesn't know if he feels the same yet. He is not exactly rejecting you but not exactly accepting it? If that makes sense? He knows he feels something.. he just isn't sure if it's romantic. The answer gets you thinking but you definitely give him more time to think it over. He has a soft tone as he talks to you about it too, Astro is also surprised but he doesn't show any negative emotions to you feeling that way for him.

-It takes him a good while but when he comes back, he is blushing, saying that he thought about it and finally understood that he feels the same way as you. This gets you very happy and you try to contain your excitement and not overwhelm him with a huge hug. You two spend the day together, just slowing down and relaxing, taking the time to explore these new feelings together. Astro thanks you for waiting for him and he wants to see where it goes and how his life will look with you as his beloved partner. You both take your time, with slow stuff like holding hands and everything.

-Astro always sticks around you and loves to hold your hand or even give you his spare stuff (though you are already warm enough). He feels more nice after he finally understood what he was feeling for you all this time, he really likes listening to you and leaning against you. Your every day life with him is even better now that you two know how you feel for each other and he is very happy to have you by his side. The others find it adorable as you are the sun and he is the moon. Astro feels a lot for you and truly does deeply love you.

Thank you for reading! <3

[whumpdoyoumean]

13, you can choose the victim 😈

thank you :]

I loved that you let me choose the victim on this one, Nonny! It provided the perfect opportunity for me to crank out a lil fic I've been meaning to write for ages, based on a throwaway line in the lightning strike episode where Bobby tells the doctors that Buck is allergic to naproxen (:

xxx "can't – breathe--"

Buck sighs as he heads into the locker room. He'd had a bit of a headache when he woke up this morning and was hoping that eating breakfast would help, but it's still bothering him – nothing too serious, but enough to be an annoyance.

"Hey, Eddie," he says as Eddie opens his locker. "Do you have any ibuprofen?"

"Naw, man, I don't. Sorry about that." Eddie leans around his locker door to look at Buck with a raised eyebrow. "You okay?"

"Just a bit of a headache," Buck says. "It's not a big deal."

"You could ask Chim," Eddie says.

"Ask me what?"

Buck and Eddie look up as Chimney walks in.

"Buck's got a headache," Eddie says.

"It's really not that bad," Buck says, shooting a glance Eddie's way.

"Do you have ibuprofen?" Eddie asks Chimney, pretending he didn't hear.

"Uh, don't think so," Chim says, opening his locker. He digs around for a minute before pulling out a bottle. He looks over at Buck, giving it a little shake. "But I have Aleve. Would that work?"

"Yes, please." Buck holds his hands up, catching the bottle of pills as Chimney tosses it to him. He shakes one of the pills into his palm and pops it into his mouth, washing it down with a swig from his water bottle. He throws the bottle back to Chim. "Thanks."

"No problem, hope it helps."

Buck grins at him. "I can feel it working already."

-

The first call, barely two minutes after the start of shift, is a house fire. It's a small one, thankfully, and the homeowner had called 911 quickly so the 118 is on scene before too much damage is done. It doesn't even take ten minutes to put the flames out and secure the scene. It's an easy call.

So Buck isn't sure why he feels like this: short of breath, nauseous, a little dizzy, and shaken. This is one of the milder calls they've gotten in his time at the 118. So why does he feel like the world is ending?

"Yo, Buck," Eddie says, walking up to where Buck is leaning against the engine. "Are you gonna help pack up or what?"

"Yeah," Buck says, straightening up. "Yeah, sorry. Uh. Did you-are you feeling okay?" Maybe there was something in the house, some chemical in the smoke that's affecting him badly.

Eddie frowns, moving closer to him. "I'm fine. Are you feeling okay? Is it that headache?"

Buck shakes his head, closing his eyes when the movement makes the dizziness worse. He feels Eddie's hand tighten on his arm.

"Whoa, hey, why don't you sit down? You're really pale."

Eddie keeps his grip on Buck, lowering him to the ground. Buck sits heavily, putting his head between his knees in the hopes of helping the dizzy spell to pass.

"Talk to me, Buck," Eddie says, and Buck opens his eyes to see Eddie crouched in front of him, staring at him worriedly. "What's goin' on?"

Buck swallows thickly, and it takes more effort than it should. "I'm not exactly sure," he says, voice shaky. "I just don't feel good."

"Don't feel good how?" Eddie presses, pushing up the sleeve of Buck's turnout coat to press two fingers to the inside of Buck's wrist. "Anything hurt?"

"No, the headache's gone," Buck says. "I'm kinda...dizzy. Nauseated. 'n my chest is kind of tight. I thought maybe there was something weird in the smoke but everyone else seems fine...What?"

Eddie's brow is furrowed and he's chewing on the inside of one cheek.

"Your heart is racing," he says, sounding almost distracted. He looks over his shoulder. "I'm just gonna...Hey, Hen? Chim? Can one of you come over here?"

"Everything okay?" Chimney says, jogging over from where he and Hen had been checking over the homeowner. Bobby is right behind him.

"I was going to ask the same question," Bobby says.

Buck wants to insist that he's okay, but the tight feeling in his chest is getting worse.

"He's tachy," Eddie says. "Said he's dizzy and nauseous, and he's short of breath."

Chimney kneels next to Eddie in front of Buck, setting his bag on the ground next to him. "Okay, Buckaroo, I'm gonna need to take your blood pressure. Can you get that coat off for me?"

It takes Eddie and Bobby both helping him for Buck to get out of his turnout coat. Buck would be mortified if he weren't feeling so awful. There's an ominous darkness starting to creep in on the edges of his vision, and the noise around him is growing muffled. The only clear sound is the quiet wheezing of his own breathing as he struggles to pull air into his lungs.

"Whoa. Cap, his BP is really low," Chim says, his voice sounding far away. Buck barely hears him over his own growing panic.

"I-" he gasps, eyes wide. He's not getting enough air. His mind flashes back to his date with Abby, what feels like a million years ago now. This is like that, but there's nothing stuck in his throat. Oh, god. "Can't – breathe--"

"Eddie, I need you to go in the rig and get the EpiPen," Chim says. "Hurry. Buck, this is looking a lot like an allergic reaction. We're gonna get some epinephrine into you to help open up those airways, okay? Buck?"

Buck's chest aches, his lungs desperate for oxygen, and he's so dizzy. His head feels heavy and he leans back, his head hitting the side of the rig with a soft thunk. He can't breathe, he can't breathe, he can't--

There's a sudden sharp pain on the outside of his thigh. And then, just like that, he can breathe again. He gasps, pulling in a long breath, and then another.

"That's it," Bobby says. He's crouched on one knee next to Buck, though Buck doesn't remember him getting there. "That's it, kid. Breathe."

"Don't...don't need to tell me twice," Buck says between breaths, and Bobby smiles. Eddie, standing behind him, chuckles. "I don't understand, though. I'm not allergic to anything."

"Have you ever taken naproxen before?" It's Chim that asks. There's a guilty look on his face.

"Uh..." Buck thinks about it for a second, hand rubbing absently across his chest. "I don't think I have, no. My heart is beating really fast."

"That's the adrenaline," says Eddie. "Totally normal."

Chim is on his feet now, an anguished look on his face as clasps his hands behind his head, elbows pushed toward his ears. "Oh my god, I almost killed you."

Buck turns to him with a frown. "What?"

"The Aleve I gave you before shift." Chim groans. "Oh, god, your sister is going to kill me."

"I'm fine," Buck says. He decides not to mention the fact that he's still a little freaked out and that he kind of feels like he's going to puke. Chimney feels bad enough already. "Really."

"We'll let a doctor decide that," Hen says. "Cap, he's gonna need to be checked out at the hospital."

"Guys, really," Buck says.

"She's right, kid," Bobby says, a soft fondness in his voice. "An EpiPen isn't a substitute for medical care. You know that."

Buck sighs. "Fine."

"I'll drive," Chimney says, already headed toward the ambulance. Buck watches him walk away, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

"He's gonna be weird about this for ages," he says. Hen reaches down to squeeze his shoulder.

"Just give him a little time. You scared him, that's all."

"You scared all of us," Bobby says.

"Not for the first time," Eddie adds.

Buck looks up at all of them with a sheepish smile. "And probably not for the last."

xxx

[mingisprincxss]

Runaway princess chapter 2

Summary: Youre being forced by your parents to marry a prince but all you want is to be love and free until the military general is assigned to you because you keep running away and suddenly....things change

Paring: generalmingi x princessreader

Warnings: MDI!! Smut, a bit of angst

Wordcount: 1,853

The next day you awoke to find out that you had to get fitted for a new dress you groaned in pain regretting your actions the night before as you head to the dressing room to find Mingi with breakfast and one of his men you assume as back up for your antics. 

"Good Morning princess." Everyone in the room said when they noticed you and you just half smiled 

You glanced over at Mingi who was in a brand new black uniform and as much as you didn't want to admit it, you got butterflies in your stomach looking at him.

"Would you like something to eat?" He said yet again snapping you out of your weird daydream 

"No, I'm not feeling well." You quietly said looking away 

After you were fitted for a new dress, your parents wanted to speak with you. 

Mingi lead you to the main room of the castle and you stood behind not wanting to face the wrath of your parents. 

"It's okay, I got you." He smiled 

Your parents grounded you leaving you trapped in your room after fighting with them to not send you to the dungeon as punishment. With the help of Mingi of course.

You and Mingi went back into your room as you flopped on the bed and cried more Mingi stood there awkwardly not really knowing what to do until an idea popped in his head.

"Would you like to go back to the flower field? I can tell them that you're with me and if you promise me to not run off, I can give you space for a bit." He said warmly 

You sat up looking at him and nodded "that would be nice. You respond wiping your tears 

Mingi quickly got the okay from your parents which didn't take much effort since your parents loved him and trusted him. 

You both head out on foot to the flower field it felt nice to not run for a change. 

You sat in the field in silence as Mingi promised giving you your respected space but still nearby to protect you. 

A small bumblebee landed on your finger as you gently pet it. "I wish I could be as free as you." You sighed as it crawled happily in your hand 

"Can you keep a secret?" You said as the bee went to a flower sticking its butt in the air kicking its legs like it was looking for something 

"I think I have feelings for someone but I'm scared and I don't know if it could ever happen." You confess as the bee tumbled deeper into the flower leaving you alone with your thoughts 

Still semi nearby Mingi heard you. He was confused yet curious and very oblivious as to who this person was. 

You spent a bit in the field before finding Mingi getting ready to leave to go back to your room

You sat at your windowsill daydreaming until you fell asleep breathing so softly which instantly grabbed Mingi's attention.

He took in your features and felt something unfamiliar and foreign in his chest

Despite the joke the night before, he himself never had time to pursue anyone romantically since he had a lot on his plate

"Maybe if I was a prince things could be different for you." He admitted fixing a strand of hair that fell in front of your face causing you to stir awake and hoped you didn't hear his confession. 

As time passed, you and Mingi spent a lot of time together. You started running away less and when you tried he caught you and took you to sit in the flower field together 

Your parents started getting down your throat about picking somebody to marry they kept shoving men in your face but all you could do was stare at Mingi because you felt more seen, more understood with him than anyone else. 

As tension screw thicker  with your parents you decided you needed to do something with Mingi before it's too late. 

You both stood in your room as his back was facing you doing something you couldn't see but you couldn't care because your heart was beating in your ears at this point 

"Mingi" you said 

"Yes y/n?"he said as he turned to smile at you. You both were so close that you wanted him to stop calling you princess and call you by your name

"Kiss me." You blurted out leaving Mingi completely stunned 

"...what?" He said not moving from where he stood 

You tremble suddenly overwhelmed with emotion instantly regretting your boldness 

"Don't you like someone? I heard you say that months ago in the flower field" he stated confused not moving from his spot

You stood there completely trapped in your head wishing you could run but Mingi would catch you. Might as well just come clean since you're already this far gone.

"It's...its you who I like Ming" you stated feeling as if you were about to pass out

He stood there completely stunned not knowing what to say 

"Me?" He asked as you nodded shyly

"But I'm not a prince" he said sitting on the edge of your bed

"I don't think that-" "I don't care. I don't care what my parents think, I don't care what anyone else thinks. I want to be loved genuinely and for real." You said stern

There was silence as you felt tears welling up and stinging your eyes. 

"I'm sorry if you don't feel the same." You said quietly sitting on your bed looking down 

Mingi came over crouched and held your hands in his 

"Of course I feel the same y/n i just didn't know you liked me at all." He said lifting your face up to look at him in the eyes

He then leaned in and kissed you gently your tongues danced together as you moaned softly into him and he pushed you on the bed gently his hands roamed over you slightly nervously until he stopped earning a confused look from you.

"I feel like if this goes further your parents would behead me." He said nervously 

You sighed frustrated and flustered and Mingi smiled 

"You do look beautiful like this though" he said holding your face in his hands stroking your cheekbones kissing you again.

"I want you though. I want you to make love to me Mingi." You said placing your hand on top of his

You swear you saw his pupils get bigger as he kissed you again. "You're going to get me in a lot of trouble" he said pulling away helping you untie the bow then taking his uniform off as you did the same with your dress

You both laid in your underwear still making out slowly as his hands roamed all over your delicate soft body gently squeezing your boobs and pinching them earning a soft moan from you as your hand made its way to touch him in his silk boxers.

One hand slid down to rub you through your underwear earning another moan as he smiled 

"So wet for me already I didn't even do much." He said pulling your underwear down exposing you more 

His head went in between your legs and you gasped softly as he started to lick and stick his finger inside of you. "You're so tight princess are you going to be able to take me?" He gently said as you were too busy trying not to come undone around just his one finger. His thumb gently rubbing your clit as his finger slipped completely inside of you earning a louder moan as he quickly kissed you shushing you when you both heard people walking around the hall passing by your room. 

You're both frozen staring at each other nervously as the voices faded and Mingi sighed in relief. "That was close." he sighed pulling his finger out and sucking your juices off you didn't realize you came. 

He proceeded to take his boxers off in one swift motion earning a surprised look from you not realizing how big he actually was. 

"We'll go slow just don't be too loud" he said stroking himself before coming closer to you 

He kissed you as he gently slipped himself in you causing you to moan into his mouth gripping his shoulders he took his time not to hurt you inching in more until he bottomed out and you were comfortable and ready. 

His thrusts were slow trying to not make too much noise he himself was struggling trying not to go crazy, he cant even remember the last time he felt like this. 

Despite it being agonizingly slow it felt romantic in a way because he was taking his time with you and being so gentle. 

You decided to flip over to doggy style giving him more room to be closer to you. 

"Oh god baby don't do this you're gonna kill me." He said quietly groaning as his arms placed next to you thrusting into you even more causing you to moan louder making him put his hand around your mouth to keep you quiet.

"What did i tell you sweetheart? I don't want us to get caught making love when we shouldn't be." He said breath shaking as he still pounded into you for a bit then he gently pulled your hair back into him as he kissed you. You felt his legs tremble 

"I'm close please cum with me baby" he whispered shaking as you came undone onto him and he did inside you. You both were breathing heavily as he kissed the back of your shoulder you both processing what just happened. 

"Im telling my parents that I choose you." You said breaking the silence 

Mingi hesitated silently thinking to himself about the possible repercussions this can cause.

"They like you a lot I don't think it will be that big of an issue" you reassured as you both got up to take a shower only to go for a second round because even though he's nervous of what your parents would think, these past few months together making sure you don't run away, has made him undeniably obsessed with you. 

Later that evening, you both went and approached your parents about you picking Mingi and to both your surprise, your parents were absolutely thrilled that not only did you finally pick someone they loved Mingi and immediately made plans for a royal wedding. Not long after both of you were wed, Mingi's status changed to prince and his second in command, Hongjoong became the general of the military. 

For the first time in many years you smiled next to Mingi whenever you were present in royal events everyone praised him for it. 

You stopped running away but still frequently visited the flower field the place where you went to cry about your horrible life in the castle has now turned into a place for you and your now husband to step away from the overwhelmingness of the castle,

 even sometimes Mingi made love to you there. 

You were finally happy again. 

[brightstar2000]

I'm caught up now on EAPS and boy do i have some opinions about it, especially Ruin.

Ruin is a freaking dumbass.

It's even worse than i thought it was. I was right about him being blinded by love, but again, it's even worse than i thought.

I genuinely think there is nothing left to save in his Monty and suppressing the virus like Ruin wants to do isn't good enough. It needs destroyed. I cannot, in good conscience, side with Ruin. I can see his perspective, i understand why he wants what he wants, but the risk to everything else is too high. Ruin's willing to watch another dimension fall to the ruin virus just to get his Monty back and i was so outraged as i watched that i wanted to pull my hair out.

Back to why i don't think there is anything left to save in his Monty, and why i am certain their relationship can't be repaired. Ruin already said that there is nothing of his original Monty left. That he is all virus now, and he's well aware that Charlie will kill him if they end up using her powers to eradicate it. And yet Ruin is going so far just to try getting the husk of his boyfriend back to the base stage of the virus, and even then, i don't think it will work out for them.

I don't think his Monty loves him anymore. He was understandably hurt when Ruin didn't come back for him, and i can see it from both of their perspectives. Ruin thinking he was dead and their dimension crumbled, plus all the bad memories that place held for him. As a person with trauma, i completely relate to not wanting to go back to the places that traumatized me to begin with. On the other end though, who knows how long his Monty was waiting for him, floating in the void. I am absolutely certain that the virus amplified his feelings when he found out how Ruin's life is going now, but i also feel like there is some genuineness to it. He feels understandably hurt and betrayed and he wants Ruin to suffer for it. While i believe the virus had influence over this, i also believe his Monty feels like he does genuinely. So even if he is saved with Ruin's cure, his and Ruin's relationship can't be fixed.

And Ruin is willing to risk everything he has now for this. Everyone he has now, just for his Monty. He wants to delay Eclipse when they have such a limited window of time to get rid of this virus before it destroys them too. There is a reason the saying "if you truly love someone, let them go" exists. And maybe that will be the lesson Ruin has to learn by the end of this, if they make it that far.

I genuinely don't get what Stitchtrap's plan is here, but god, his distraction is working too well. Now Ruin and Eclipse are at eachother's throats trying to stop the ruin virus before it's too late, but they both have their personal reasons for doing it. Ruin wants his Monty back, meanwhile Eclipse is trying to save all of them.

Ruin needs to learn when to let go. I know it's hard to, especially when he loves his Monty so much, but Ruin is only looking out for what he wants, not what everyone (or his Monty) needs. I know, that is a trait of his, but god this situation really made it much worse. I think Afton saying this would be an "ample" distraction was an understatement. It's been very effective. It's tearing rifts between the animatronics.

If his Monty really can be saved, i still think, at this point, death is the better alternative. He's suffering immensely. There is nothing left to save, but Ruin is so blinded by his love that he still thinks there is something there to save. And even if they do manage to save him, like i said above, i don't think their relationship is salvageable.

I just cannot with Ruin right now. I hope he learns something from this before it's too late.

[thestargayzingetherian]

Five Years Since Catradora Kissed.

Five years ago on this day, a certain ship from kids cartoon that I love named Catradora became canon and kissed and saved their whole goddamn universe. And I don't think anything in any peice of queer media has hit me the same way since then. It still fills me with warmth and happiness just as it did all those years ago.

Catradora isn't just two girls from this really well written show that got together at the end. It's a testament to what stories in our modern age can be capable of doing, the stories they are capable of telling.

Yes, that has come with some caveats, how the creators of these stories are treated like dogshit by the powers that be, as well as 'certain' parts of their audience, not to mention the corporations owning these stories force their queerness into their rainbow capitalisc assimilationist horsecrap. But even still... just seeing how Catradora makes other people feel, how other people have been able to discover themselves because of them tells me that they have a power that no corporate suit will ever understand.

Catra is literally my transition goals for instance and I see so many people identify themselves as an "Adora" or a "Catra" kinnie. Their stories have helped people feel seen and be okay with themselves in a way I haven't seen so openly possible for a long time.

As for myself... Catradora has been there for me for every rough spot I've had the last few years. That no matter what, they give me some comfort. I've seen a lot of drama and bs in the She-Ra fandom, the likes of which I know drove some people away... but I am still here, because my love for these two dorks will always be there. If everyone in the Catradora fandom was to just give up and go to another fandom somewhere else, I would still be here. I would literally be the only Catradora girl alive if that were possible.

I know that in my personal expereince that I've made a lot of mistakes in my time in the fandom. Since I've been off my main social media places a lot the last few months, it's given me a time to think on how toxic and cynical I could be at times, how sometimes I'd make terrible mistakes that would make some people uncomfortable or how toxic some She-Ra fandom spaces were. This is not a callout post by the way, I don't do that kind of thing.

I don't expect everyone to forgive me for some of the things I've done in the past or things I've said. As much as I would want nothing more than to make ammends for anything I've said or done that's warranted any reputation I might have, I realise I can't force people to change. Adora didn't force Catra to change after all, she did it of her own volition and Adora's freinds likewise accepted Catra because they wanted to, not because Catra forced them to.

But I will say this... I am genuinely sorry for everything. For any conversations or ideas I might have worded badly that made people uncomfortable, for going on giant long cynical rants and vents because I was in a bad place, for all of that. I am truly sorry and I hope that I can at least be friends with some of you again.

And while I was only an observer for a lot of the other She-Ra fandom drama, I am sorry to everyone who left the fandom because of that too. I am so goddamn sorry that a bunch of sometimes justified internet drama and arguements caused you to no longer enjoy a beautiful series like She-Ra. I am sorry people did racist shit to Catra that made POC in the fandom deeply uncomfortable, I am sorry that so many people rallied behind good ships like Glimmadora and Entrapdak to harass Catradora stans because of the internet media ilteracy that trained them to hate Catra. I am sorry that these last five years haven't exactly been the best for a lot of you and I know that I alone can't exactly do much to fix that.

But what am I going to do? I'm going to try and keep being postive and making things that I at least hope make someone happy, that put a smile on someone's face. I have over 200 fics about Catradora alone posted on AO3 and probably much, much more planned in the future. Heck, the day this goes up, I'll be FINALLY properly making a start on the big post-canon She-Ra series I've always wanted to write.

I want to try and be a beacon of hope and positivty for anyone who visits my pages. I was told by I think @catras-breakup-song and @witch-apologist that I have somewhat of a repuation for being a nice blog that shows up in people's feeds on here and I hope I can still be that for another five years.

Catradora are in a way... an inspiration to me. Creatively, by writing tons of stories about them. And for their happiness giving me such hope on the days I feel so dark.

So here's to the next five, hell, next TEN years, because hey, if Korrasami can keep people going for ten years, Catradora most certainly can!

May Catradora and everything about She-Ra keep you happy for a good long time, my friends. I hope to see some of you again soon.