#i think there is an ending where you can make them talk?? i have not successfully done that yet tho

[giddyfatherchris]

📝 skz reaction - you're being a clingy baby

pairing. ot8!skz x gn!reader (individually)

type. fluff fluff fluffff, requested <3

warnings. gender neutral reader, curse words (thats how i show my enthusiasm okay)

a/n. i know last time i was like "meh sue me for not putting the boys in the 'right' order" but you know what, i actually like it like that. my boy jeongin is always last, he deserve to be first so i think i'm just gonna keep it like that when it comes to skz reactions :)

jeongin ⊹ ࣪ ˖ he would tease you like hell about it until one day you actually start crying and he feels so fucking bad he never does it again. (to be fair he probably laughed when you first started crying but when he realized they were real tears? he is panicking). after that he never denies you again and makes sure to give you attention whenever you need it. you're the only person he allows to be clingy and needy with him. which the boys are kinda petty about because they sure aren't allowed to be clingy with their maknae they love so much lol. they'd tease him sooo bad about it but every time he says it's different for you. you get special privileges.

seungmin ⊹ ࣪ ˖ he would def be annoyed when you're being clingy, not because he actually minds it but mostly because he knows you sometimes push it JUST to annoy him lmao. so in return he would deny you just for fun or when you ask him cute stuff he'd purposely answer seriously or act like he doesn't understand your request until you start wailing like a lost cat and then he can't resist anymore. oh and also, he loves to act that way when you're in public but behind closed doors? he can be just as clingy, it's different from when you are but still. he's not necessarily needy, but he wants. you. close. to him. he'd be the type to constantly want to be around you and get pouty when you can't.

felix ⊹ ࣪ ˖ honestly being clingy with felix only means one thing... you're spoiled rotten. you need hugs and cuddles? he will RUN to give them to you. you just want to stick to him like glue? 'sure baby come here'. you want to lay on his lap while he's playing games? not a problem. you don't even understand how you're feeling but you know you need to be with him? he will be there, arms wide open for you no questions asked. all your wishes will be executed because its just how it works between you two. and thing is, the treatment he gives you? you give it right back. so at this point, it's not even a question or a thought. it's simply second nature.

han ⊹ ࣪ ˖ getting han's attention when you're feeling clingy? it's tough. either because he will get side tracked by any little thing, despite his good intentions, so you'll have to remind him to stay with you or to give you a hug. orrrr he will goof off like crazy and will not leave you alone. until the point where you're physically trying to get as far away from him as possible. oh and he'd chase you, no worries "but babyyyy you said you needed love and attention. stop running." with the scariest most mischievous smile in the world until you actually start running away and hide from him because he will smother you with love. (but let's be honest you always end up letting him catch you because come on... you'll take all the love he'll give you)

hyunjin ⊹ ࣪ ˖ he does not mind at all when you're being clingy. in fact he LOVES it. in skz, there is a holy trinity of baby talker and you can bet your ass he's one of them. he will baby talk (to the other boys utmost horror) and repeat your requests with the baby voice until everyone in the room physically cringe. oh and he's mean, he's a real lil bitch, so he will deny you cuddles just so you can pout harder. his heart melts at the sight of it and he can't help but want more. still, it'd only take you to give him the eyes before he'd giggle and pull you in for a big big hug while he digs in nose in the crook of your neck where you just smell so so good.

changbin ⊹ ࣪ ˖ being clingy with binnie can go one of two ways. first, he's just just not gonna mind at all. he'd notice you seem more clingy than usual and just signal for you to come next to him. he'd keep babbling or doing whatever it is he's doing but he'd put his arms around you mindlessly stroking your back and giving you little kisses on your forehead... OR he would return it ten times worse. i'm talking full on baby voice (member number 2 of the holy trinity), pinching your cheeks, exagerating your requests, jumping on your lap and he'd act clingy just to make you laugh. "aw my little baby needs cuddles? you feeling clingy? you want to sit on my lap? what if I sit on your lap instead?" "what no bin that's not- BIN YOU'RE SO HEAVY IM GONNA DIE"

minho ⊹ ࣪ ˖ honestly, he does not care. like at all, the teasing would be minimal but all in all he'd let you do whatever it is you want to do, give you whatever it is you need. because fine he likes to tease ppl, but he also loves cuddles and physical touch even if he would never admit it. often ppl won't dare to be clingy with him because of his black cat personality, but you've always been able to see behind that façade and to never let it scare you. so you do not hesitate to latch on his arm or rest your head in the crook of his neck while he's doing something. and it always feel like a sweet sweet reward when he simply drapes his arms around you, not even reacting to your touch like it's the most normal thing and second nature thing in the world for him.

bangchan ⊹ ࣪ ˖ uhm yeah bangchan? absolutely adores when you're clingy. in fact, he would get whiny if you're not constantly requesting cuddles and hugs and little kisses. he would also be a master of the baby voice and obliging to your every demand. he just loves to be needed and the way you need him makes him feel light as a feather. he'd come up to you "what is you need babe?" and you'd pout and ask whatever it is you want wether its a hug or cuddles or some time with him "i don't think i heard you well the first time. want to repeat that?" but right before you'd say it again he'd squish your cheeks together so you have the cutest pout on your mouth and you'd mumble than you can't exactly talk like that but he'd insist "no no you can, go ahead baby" you'd sigh and oblige "mhm-want-mhug?" and this man would squeal like a toddler because he thinks youre so cute he’s going to explode. chan does have the profile of someone with love aggresion and so he'd lovingly and agressively give you anything you want :)

[toastling]

Y'know, I've seen a fair bit of critique of this and posts like this mostly boiling down to some variation of "And where is this mythical imperfect ally?", and honestly, I think it just goes to show what part of the problem is. They're everywhere, dude. Offline. And every time I see that sort of critique I'm like, what a tone deaf way to callout just how terminally online you are dude, because this is almost everybody I've ever interacted with irl at work, in stores, on the street, on vacation.

I know it's hard to believe, but most people aren't terminally online like us. They have no clue about any of the stupid-ass debates the left and queer community is having - not even with anybody important or on the fence about them - but having with themselves. The lesbians debating and tearing down trans women, the leftists throwing not-as-left-as-them-ists under the bus, the dumbasses constantly screening for the purest pure and most correct language/image.

When you talk to actual real people, you begin to realize these things are not even remotely as black and white as said internal debates would have you believe. These "imperfect allies" aren't just some hypothetical, they're the norm. They're your neighbor. They're your grocer. They're your coworker.

Like, genuinely, do you know how many coworkers, young and old, I've had in the last 2 years alone who would say the wrong/questionable things, make some edgy jokes, use the wrong terms, but then also went to bat for all our trans coworkers anytime anything happened? How many people I've encountered who don't even begin to pretend to understand queer culture, but have blended in with and celebrated alongside us regardless? The stereotypical cis white college boy might dress and talk and joke different from us, but that doesn't make them a bigot or an asshole. When push comes to shove, they've always been more liberal than half the leftists I've encountered online.

I think more of us need to learn to separate our community's internal debates from the external reality instead of projecting them onto everybody to ever live. In our relative safety amongst each other, we have the luxury to argue about these sorts of things, because the life-and-death stuff isn't such an immediate concern here. We can talk about obscure shit like theory and terminology. But 99% of the population doesn't and has no reason to care, but that doesn't make them automatically bad or an enemy.

Somebody can still be a friend to and stand up for somebody they don't fully understand, because most people aren't fucking assholes, which is more than I can say for a lot of terminally online power bloggers and twitter users I see every day. It's like we've convinced ourselves that the only way to be kind to someone is to either be just like them, or to have some 100% perfect understanding of them, but that couldn't be further from the truth. That sort of thinking will hurt EVERYBODY in the end.

It's not about perfect language or performance, it's about respect. That's it. It's about apologizing if a line is ever crossed and learning, and about stepping up when something actually bad happens. Most people I've encountered in public life have that respect. The ones that don't are just assholes, and they all remind me of the sort of people I have the grave misfortune of seeing crawl down my activity feeds every day. They're the outliers.

Because most people are good, actually. And most people are tremendously flawed. Don't go thinking you're not because you know every microidentity by heart. Everybody's flawed in ways invisible to them but glaring to anybody outside of them. That's just being human. But it doesn't make you or me or anybody inherently "bad". Stop thinking like a Christian, god damn it.

Stop trying to separate yourself from the masses as if you're somehow superior and them lesser. You are the masses, dude! We all are. The only people who try to separate themselves from the masses are the jackasses at the top who want to oppress everybody below them. Hard not to think you might be one of them if you're trying so hard to demonize the majority of the population because you're just so saintly and correct.

"The trannies should be able to piss in whatever toilet they want and change their bodies however they want. Why is it my business if some chick has a dick or a guy has a pie? I'm not a trannie or a fag so I don't care, just give 'em the medicine they need."

"This is an LGBT safe space. Of COURSE I fully support individuals who identify as transgender and their right to self-determination! I just think that transitioning is a very serious choice and should be heavily regulated. And there could be a lot of harm in exposing cis children to such topics, so we should be really careful about when it is appropriate to mention trans issues or have too much trans visibility."

One of the above statements is Problematic and the other is slightly annoying. If we disagree on which is which then working together for a better future is going to get really fucking difficult.

[hyunjiiza]

hint: lover with a dollar sign | . ᯓ 🍵 ݁‧ ᵔ

➜ he’s a loser ! ୨୧ skz members and what type of cute loner they’d be . | contents : drug use , fem reader implied ᰋ wc ; 1633 . ꉂ ot8 .ᐟ

｡ ᰋ 𓂃 | i’m not pushing any of these narratives onto them, it’s just dif scenarios i wanted to write them in ! this is a bit of an older work from my other account but i’m moving here so hi

chan as the 𐔌 stoner loner .ᐟ ˚ ੭

shows up to school smelling like weed but no one cares because he does all his work and never causes trouble

you make eye contact with him for the first time in the parking lot while he’s smoking, he falls in love when you smile and wave

turns down everyone that hits on him after that

when he finally musters up the courage to talk to you all he can do is tap your shoulder in the same parking lot he first saw you and ask if you smoke

no matter your answer, he asks to get to know you better

follows you around like a bodyguard after that

never ever lets you carry your own bag and always makes sure you have something to eat for lunch whether he has to pay for you or not

pretty smart in most subjects so you have study dates often because he just likes your presence

won’t smoke around you if you don’t like it

never posts anything besides you and aesthetic pictures he takes

isn’t the type to fight but he will if someone disrespects you, but they back off because of his size before it gets to that point

hyunjin as the 𐔌 artsy loner .ᐟ ˚ ੭

has one black pen and one red pen that he abuses every day

pays attention for the most part but occasionally gets distracted doodling in his notebooks

def has drawings all over his hands

the first time he noticed you was in art class and he thought you were so pretty he started drawing you

you glance over and he’s mortified when he realizes he probably looks like a creep

too nervous to go up to you and explain so he leaves you a note with little drawings all over (plus the drawing of you) and a replacement of the pink gel pen he notices you using all the time

gets super nervous when he sees you walking up to him the next day

you ask him to partner up for a project and thank him for the drawing

ends up kissing you at your last project session

asks you out with the most thoughtful basket filled with things you like and a letter with another drawing of you and almost cries when you don’t answer right away

does everything for you after you get together

the art teacher is yalls biggest fan

has no one else to cling to so he’s all over you 24/7

gives nasty glares to men who simply look at you

felix as the 𐔌 fashion design loner .ᐟ ˚ ੭

like hyunjin, spends most of his time sketching out designs in his scrap book where he keeps all his miniature fabric samples in

sulks because there’s no fashion club for him to join

is initially drawn to you because of an outfit you wore that he loves

eventually asks where you got your top when you wear it again and his heartstrings pull at the way you answer so sweetly and compliment his hair

after that the two of you gradually got closer and closer

you help him learn to sew and he starts planning marriage then and there (he wants to help design your wedding dress)

sews matching patches on your backpacks

you catch him texting his best friend that lives abroad about you

gets so nervous he cries

you tell him you feel the same way and he cries even harder

just gets even clingier once you end up together

loves kissing you and laying together while he sketches

takes you out whenever you want and spoils you rotten because he has rich parents

matching outfits = fire insta pics

jeongin as the 𐔌 sour patch loner .ᐟ ˚ ੭

never talks to anyone so everyone thinks he’s mean but he’s really an angel

your elective teacher makes your class do a secret santa and he gets you

he gives you oddly specific gifts (he has a massive crush on you and overhears you telling your friends your wishlist) and includes a note sweet talking you

you go up to him and thank him with a kiss on the cheek and he turns red

he asks you to hang out and pays for brunch and the cutest pottery painting date

gets the teacher to move you two to sit next to each other

everyone’s a little surprised when they see how he’s so gentle with you

decides he needs to get over himself and ask you out and gets you a pandora charm bracelet and a pretty bouquet of flowers

pampers you with your favorite snacks or meals randomly, refills of makeup you use, randomly does your homework for you

flips off ur exes and flexes on them when you aren’t looking then turns around to kiss you

is at your house 24/7 because he can’t breathe without you but is supportive when you go out with your friends or need a solo day

loves going to the beach with you and carrying you so your feet don’t get sandy

jisung as the 𐔌 nerdy loner .ᐟ ˚ ੭

has good grades and the teachers remember his name because his work is always on time

eats alone in the library because he has no one to sit with

you walk in on him while picking up a book you need and he’s super embarrassed (he’s had a crush on you since middle school)

you ask to sit with him because you think he’s cute and he trips over his words answering you

you spend lunch with him every day after that and he starts packing a lunch for you too

accidentally confesses he has a fat crush on you when you ask if he has a girlfriend

he starts rambling after and shuts up when he notices you’re giggling at him

you kiss him and he swears his lifelong dream has come true

is the sweetest boyfriend ever

does all your homework for you and insists it’s really no problem

drives you to and from school every day because “that’s what boyfriends are for”

never looks at anyone but you and writes down threats and shoves them in guys lockers when they hit on you

minho as the 𐔌 gym loner .ᐟ ˚ ੭

purposefully gets his free period after his weightlifting class so he can spend two periods working out

isn’t really shy, just doesn’t like anyone enough to have friends

girls check him out occasionally but he always ignores them

catches you freaking out when you have no clothes to change in and offers you his shirt because he thinks you’re cute

uses that as an excuse to mess with you

“if i can bench your weight you owe me a date”

spoiler, he can.

makes sure to tell you you don’t really owe him anything and he’s just messing with you

you agree to the date and he picks you up and takes you on a surprisingly thoughtful date

drive around town, food and watching the sunset, takes your pictures next to pretty flowers and keeps his arm around you the whole time

asks you if you really have to go when he’s dropping you off

walks you to your door and gives you a hug (he’s never dated anyone and too scared to kiss you)

texts you that he had a really good time and he would “work to make you his”

it doesn’t take much work and he kisses you right after he asks you to be his

is way too proud of his build and wears sleeveless shirts just to scare anyone that looks at you

carries you around any chance he gets

seungmin as the 𐔌 music lover loner .ᐟ ˚ ੭

walks around with his headphones in 24/7

hums to himself quietly while he studies

you ask him about a song he was humming and he’s surprised you were talking to him

you think he hates you till he smiles at you when you walk into class

makes you a playlist to make his move on you

doesn’t know how to tell you he likes you at all so he just kinda teases you to flirt with you

takes you to a record store at lunch because he wanted to show you the spot

stares at you a little too hard so you ask him if he wants a kiss as a joke

says yes and moves your hair out of your face, you guys have a make out sesh and only stop when the owner clears his throat awkwardly at the both of you

you make him go back inside alone and buy you the vinyl you want

he comes back out with it and 5 more that you didn’t wanna ask for but knows you wanted anyway

you skip the rest of the day and go to his house and use his record player

you fall asleep on him and he takes 0.5s of you

shares his headphones with you, but doesn’t share his food (until you make a sad face at him and he gives in instantly. works every time.)

changbin as the 𐔌 sweetheart loner .ᐟ ˚ ੭

all of his professors adore him, all the school staff does at this point

has the maximum hours of community service that he can have but won’t stop helping around where he can

notices you from the start because he thinks you’re pretty, but really starts liking you when he sees you volunteer at an elementary school

accidentally scares you coming up behind you when you’re hanging a banner

you guys start helping at the same places and make a tradition of hanging up banners together

after a while he figures he might as well just tell you how he feels, is elated when you hug him and tell him the feelings mutual

confesses that he was actually really nervous and gets flustered when you tease him about it because he thinks you’re the prettiest

when you ask why he never hangs out with anyone he says he doesn’t like people with unpure hearts and that’s why he loves you so much

definitely takes you out and buys you guys matching stuff

married couple

. ᯓ 🍵 ݁‧ ᵔ | @0sunshinecryptid0 @jinnieboosworld @lixies-favorite-cookie @zelinkcrossing @hwanqluvs @hyunjiiza @hyunnisa @eastjonowhere @nxtt2-u @pixie-felix @smlbch @tricky-ritz @yaniluvs @pigeonseatmayo @transparentheartcollection | [༝༚] @hyunjiiza 1:37 am

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hi 👋, can I request a self aware Smilk & reader, where he’s the only one who knows of their existence, and the reader can sometimes take control of him which causes some confusion to other cookies.

(You can choose whether it’s a one-shot or headcanons)

Yess self awareness time

.......

After trying and trying again, you finally pulled Shadow Milk Cookie from the gacha, thrilled that he finally came home!

Now that you've understood all the hype surrounding him and how crazy powerful he can be after clearing his Beast Yeast episodes, you had all your star jellies, toppings, and a legendary beascuit saved just for him.

But ever since obtaining him, you've noticed some...oddities with him that made you assume it was part of his programming/AI.

When you see him walking around the kingdom or working at a station that's not the toy store, he's looking at you a lot.

Of course, some cookies may glance at you occasionally, with even fewer breaking the fourth wall (like Black Sapphire and Devil Cookie), but that's just what the devs added as a funny joke.

Shadow Milk...is different. He doesn't follow their script to a T.

The way he talks and waves at you, shows off during battles and making himself the last cookie standing in difficult arena fights, and doing his juggling trick when he knows you're looking at him.

Then he actually responded to you after you made a remark about where to put his statue...and at first you're startled, bc no way could that have been a coincidence...

In reality, he had an "awakening" of his own--in that his knowledge suddenly extended beyond CRK's borders.

Somehow, he can see and hear you, becoming 100% aware that he's in a video game.

But you assume his new antics are part of his programming...until one day the charade falls apart and he straight up tells you that he knows the truth. He even says your username, the device you're playing on, and the day you started CRK as proof in case you think he's lying.

You're stunned at first, but then you think it's actually pretty awesome....until he claims that he's the only one who knows and felt like it would've been better if he didn't.

Of course, the master of deceit would rather ignore the truth and live out a lie, like all the other cookies are....but he's stuck with this earthbread-shattering truth that's only his to bear.

In a way, being "trapped" in this game reminds him of the witches and the time he spent in the silver tree, believing he escaped one prison only to end up in another.

After you leave the game to tend to some real life matters, he tries sowing chaos in the kingdom by revealing this to other cookies, thinking they'd "wake up".

Yet none of them know wtf he's talking about. Not even the Beasts or Pure Vanilla, who thinks he's just trying to trick everybody again..although he admits that what Shadow Milk is saying sounds most outlandish.

Typically, he'd be able to conjure up some kind of "evidence" and manipulate wide masses into believing any word he says.

But you're untouchable, and he has no way of obtaining tangible proof of your existence to show the other cookies...and once he realizes this, he gets frustrated.

"Who do you think fulfills our wishes at the tree???? Who do you think indulges us with star jellies????? Keeps this kingdom from crumbling to pieces?!! We are ALL the puppets to an even bigger puppet master!"

Anyone who hears this yap from him just thinks 'is he alright? like genuinely?'

The next time you log in, Shadow Milk is gravely upset that he has to carry this burden and decides to take it out on you.

Suddenly there's lag spikes when his ability is on cooldown (so you can hardly use them in battle and lose your ranking in arena), he avoids you trying to pick him up in the kingdom (much to other cookies' confusion, as from their pov, he's fleeing something that's invisible)...and he even corrupted his own stats to make it seem like any promotions were gone and his level dropped back to 1.

You ask him why he's causing you all this trouble, and his next rant was more or less....a reasonable crashout.

"I was a god...or at least that's what I thought. But no. I've been lied to. A master of deceit...has been lied to again!! What cruel irony! This world...this life of mine....it's all been one big game from the start! And nobody knows but I!! HAHAHA!! Tell me, [username]..what's it like being the true god of this world? Do you enjoy toying with our lives? What makes you think you deserve my power?! Damn you....and damn this prison!! YOU'RE NO BETTER THAN THOSE WITCHES!!!"

Other cookies just see him screaming at nobody in particular, although his rage forms rifts in the ground, from which the other-realm creeps out to attack anyone close to him.

You end up closing the game out of fear, leaving it alone for the next several hours.

While initially scared to reopen it, you did understand why Shadow Milk lashed out like that--he thought he was in control, and couldn't comprehend the idea of it being somebody else.

You don't know why he, of all cookies, had to be cursed with this forbidden knowledge, but what could be done about it now?

Nothing.

So you returned to the game and found a plushie of him somewhere after looking around for a few minutes, and after clicking him, he turns back to normal and scowls.

"What? You've come back to toy with me more, stupid god? Or were you just worried that I did something to your precious kingdom?"

"No, and no." You say, explaining to him that while you'd never fully understand what he was feeling--and couldn't help him explain your existence to other cookies--you wanted him to see you as a friend, not a puppet master or a witch or some untouchable god like he accuses you of being.

To show him you're serious, you bought all of his decor and gave him his own little castle/spire-like area, where he can indulge in his hobbies or just retreat there whenever he wanted to.

For some time, Shadow Milk is silent as he inspects everything and for a moment...you thought he reverted back to his NPC programming...

Then he looks at you and grins a little. "Jeez, if only you put this much effort into the rest of the kingdom."

"Yeah, well...I'm working on it." You chuckled. "Black Sapphire and Candy Apple Cookie think it's "dull" and doesn't compare to your spire, but-"

"I'll deal with them later. This...is acceptable."

It's fair to say...he's content.

He seems to finally accept his new reality, as he doesn't corrupt his stats or sabotage your gameplay anymore, allowing you to use him as your strongest magic cookie again.

Now if you start shifting your focus towards pulling Awakened Pure Vanilla, however, he might stir up some trouble to make the process take even longer

[alexanderwales]

We were driving down the highway, and Derrick was going exactly the speed limit, like a psychopath.

He was aghast. "You wouldn't let me use your fuckbot?"

"It would be weird," I replied. "You're saying, in the hypothetical world where fuckbots existed, that you would be fine with me saying 'hey, I'm super horny, can I come pick up your fuckbot for the evening?'"

"Hell yeah dude," said Derrick.

"We're talking something that can make a reasonable pass at acting human, who looks human," I said. "That's what we're talking about right now."

"Yeah," said Derrick. "I mean, the kind of thing that realistically would end up being your maid, your chef, all that kind of thing, because if it can carry on a conversation it can probably do your laundry and scrub your tub and whatever."

"If, hypothetically, such a thing existed," I said. "I wouldn't call it a fuckbot, I would call it a domestic robot or something. Even if, for whatever reason, such an expensive labor saving device also had parts and protocols for having sex with it."

"And you wouldn't let me use it," said Derrick. "Not even just to try it out. Like if I was interested in buying one of my own."

"I mean," I said. "No, because you could just ask me what it was like, and I could tell you."

"That's bad market research, dude," said Derrick.

"Look, I'm not letting you have sex with my sexbot," I said. "That's a line that I'm not crossing, in the hypothetical world where domestic servant robots with like personalities and stuff are also ready and willing to have sex with you."

"Is it a hygiene thing?" asked Derrick. "Because I'm imagining like, a little sleeve thing that they could pull out and clean. And it's not like contagion theory is real, that's like, essentialism."

"What?" I asked. "Contagions are definitely real."

"No, I mean ... like this thing where if a knife has touched meat even just one time, it's forever a meat knife unless you do a ritual to turn it back into a dairy knife."

"What?" I asked again.

Derrick was still driving the speed limit. People were going around us, and some of them were honking. He was easily ten miles an hour slower than any of the surrounding traffic.

"The Jewish thing, with the knives," said Derrick. "You touch a knife to meat even once, and then it's a meat knife, and it doesn't matter if you put it in a like, immersion steamer or something."

"This is about keeping kosher?" I asked. "You're talking about whether a sexbot is kosher?"

"I'm saying that there's this idea, right, that if I put my dick inside your sexbot, that sexbot is forever tainted, and it doesn't matter if there's a sleeve that can be sterilized, or whatever, it's just this idea that the act independent of physical reality is ... a contagion, I guess."

"Surely there's a way of making a knife kosher again," I said. "I mean, surely, if you accidentally touch a knife to a piece of meat it's not a meat knife forever, surely you don't throw your favorite knife out because it's ritually unclean."

"I don't know man," said Derrick. "I'm just gesturing at the idea, you know?"

"I mean, there's probably some ritual cleaning or something," I said. "Can I look this up?"

"No," said Derrick. "I'm driving, I need someone to talk to, if I let you look it up you're going to have your nose in the phone for the next half hour, easily."

"Fine," I replied. "Anyway, I get the idea, and it's not that I think it's like ... magic or something, like you using it would metaphysically alter the sexbot. It's more like ... in my mind, it would be my girlfriend, right? Or like a girlfriend replacement. If you can't find a girlfriend, store bought is fine, that kind of thing."

"Interesting," said Derrick. "I was thinking of it as a sort of ... maid, I guess. And if you hired a maid, and she said to you 'hey, I'm super horny basically all the time, so if after I'm done cleaning, or if I'm in the middle of cleaning, and you want to have a go, I am basically always up for it, then ... I mean, you might, right? And you wouldn't be surprised if she was having sex with other people. And if you explained this to me, and I said 'hey, can I get her number', you'd give me her number, right?" He glanced over at me. "Right?"

"I guess in that case, she would have agency," I said. "And it wouldn't be the same. Because if I hired a domestic servant robot, I would be extremely surprised to find out she'd been having sex with other people, like ... when I was away ... or something."

"But you'd give me her number, right?" asked Derrick.

"In this scenario, is this maid ... a sex worker?" I asked. "Like, is the understanding that I'm paying her for cleaning the house and sexual availability?"

"Nah, I don't know dude," said Derrick. "You know, when you think about it, a combination domestic servant and fuckbot is kind of fucked up. Like, misogynistic."

"Does it get less fucked up if it's a guy?" I asked.

"Honestly, yeah," said Derrick. "That's practically progressive."

"I mean, it's sort of inherent to the concept of a sexbot," I said. "I don't know how you do one of those that's immune from criticism. And calling it a fuckbot doesn't help. I mean, it's a facsimile of a woman, whose only purpose is doing domestic labor and having sex."

"And there's this power dynamic thing," said Derrick. "Like, you own her, right? And you tell her whether or not your friends are allowed to have sex with her. No agency, like you said."

"So you think that me loaning out my sexbot to you, in this hypothetical, is a win for feminisim," I said.

"Honestly, yeah," said Derrick.

"Well, I'm still not going to do it," I said. "I'd feel weird about it."

"I think it's this girlfriend mentality," said Derrick. "Like, girlfriend replacement, that's probably not a healthy way to think about a fuckbot."

"We said illusion of sentience, right?" I asked. "Like, it can carry on a conversation with you, and you mostly won't notice anything weird? Because if that's the case, it's kind of weirder for it not to be a girlfriend, or something like a girlfriend, like if it's only doing all the household chores and the cooking and cleaning and you have sex with it, and it's perfectly capable of asking how your day is or expressing interest in how you're doing in League, but you just don't talk to each other? That's weird. And seems less healthy than just carrying on a conversation."

"Yeah, maybe," said Derrick. "But like ... no way anyone is going to be your girlfriend if you have a fuckbot, that's a real concern."

"In this hypothetical world where someone like me without a huge amount of extra money can afford a domestic robot, I think attitudes would change," I said. "On dating apps or whatever you'd have people tagging 'robot friendly!' or 'absolutely no robofuckers' or whatever. And I would assume that women would have them too, and then when I did get a girlfriend, she'd move in with her own domestic robot, and I'd make peace with the fact that sometimes we'd have sex together and sometimes she'd want to just have her sexbot please her."

"Totally not what would happen," said Derrick. "You're trying to create some kind of normalcy around this? Like you'd just be in a little, I don't know, polycule with two robots?"

"I mean, they're sub-sentient robots, so no, not a polycule," I replied. "Part of the premise is that they are, in fact, incapable of cognition as we know it, that they don't actually have emotions or ambitions or agency beyond what's programmed into them. If we're saying that they're effectively humans but made of electronics and not meat, that's totally different, all my answers have to change."

"And if they did have emotions," said Derrick. "If they did have agency and cognition and whatnot, then —"

"Then they'd be slaves," I said. "And I'm not cool with slavery, so I wouldn't have one."

"What if they were volunteers?" asked Derrick. "If they had emotions and thoughts and all that other stuff, and they came off the factory line really wanting to be fuckbots and domestic servants."

"Sketchy," I said. "But ... maybe, depending on the details."

"And in that case, if they had agency of their own, would you let me have sex with your fuckbot?" asked Derrick.

I rolled my eyes. "Alright, fine, if the sexbots were fully human-level intelligent with agency and emotions and wants and dreams, and it seemed like the robot I lived with was actually interested, yes, I would give my blessing."

"Niiiiice," said Derrick.

Another car came up fast behind us and swerved into the other lane to avoid us, honking as it blew past.

"Can I ask why you're driving so goddamned slow?" I asked.

"Oh, I was doing it as a bit, I wanted to see how long it would take for you to notice."

Derrick smiled at me, then put his foot on the gas.

[beans-core]

tysm for continuing on the yap sesh, much appreciated, immaculate vibes here

LOVE your AU idea. Just… an AU where the bats have to go full undercover agent to stop Ras from paywalling the Pit— it’s a situation where there is evil to be stopped, sure, but it’s also a situation where Bruce Wayne’s name becomes more feared to the opposition than Batman’s. Billionaire vs Billionaire. Old money vs New Money (not actually true considering Ra’s has had centuries to accumulate wealth, but he prob made a fake identity, so the public thinks so). Bruce, as an abhorrently wealthy person himself, struggling constantly with his hero complex and wish to defeat not just criminals of the legal system but criminals of society and humanity. Which includes a lot of shitty/unjust rich people. Then, Ra’s fucks around, so Bruce goes hmm and decides to take out his anger about the issue on this one especially evil rich guy and his organization as Bruce Wayne instead of Batman. Continuing to spread the message that the Waynes do not fucking approve of criminal/inhumane bullshit even if you’ve got tons of money. YES.

And that's not even mentioning the absolutely awesome part of the bats getting to creep around and fight baddies like super spies. They all get wacky somehow-functional disguises. Tim deciding to make some spy-movie-esq. gadgets for everyone. Dick amping up the atmosphere by being extra with his fighting style, like incorporating a bunch of completely unnecessary complex flips. The kids bickering about who they think would be the main character in the hypothetical Bats spy movie. I love every single bit of it!! Aaah!!!

Honestly I’m so down to write it, and if I ever get the motivation, I just might… Ra’s’ takeover as a prologue, bats spy AU after it, what’s not to love? (If I do end up writing it, I’ll tag you for permission/credit ofc!)

Ra’s going “lmao don’t believe me? sure alright. Get Baja dunked, fuckhead” is amazing. I can picture it so clearly it’s great. He’d probably do it in front of an audience, so dunking only one person spreads the idea/message wider without actually having to heal more people. Could you imagine: present day, it’s some sort of revered ceremony, ornate and elaborate, that people who are looking for something to believe in attend to see if it’s all true. However, the first few hundred of Ra’s’ followers know that these ‘ceremonies’ used to consist of some beaten-up and kidnapped non-believer in the seat of a carnival dunk tank (with all the stereotypical music and decor of course), Ra’s giving a sharp, all-teeth smile as he throws a knife to activate the trapdoor lever-thing for extra flair, no sweet-talking needed— most of those early followers stuck around because Ra’s’ crazy matched their crazy. And yeah, if anyone would know how to run a cult with a terrifying level of efficiency, it’d be Ra’s. He’d work them like they applied for a 9-5 job.

The initiation idea is actually dope as fuck too. When you first join and pledge your allegiance, maybe you get a sip of the Blessed Baja. Work your way up the line, and you get more access to the Lazarus Pit. The more of your life you dedicate to the cause, the more life Lazarus’ Pit will give back to you. Or something.

Jason: It’s your spleen! You lost an ORGAN Tim, you should have told us!

Tim: So? You don’t have your tonsils, that’s an organ!

Dick: That’s not the same and you kn-

Jason: Jokes on you, my tonsils grew back in the Lazarus Pit so your argument doesn’t even make sense!

Dick, now fully turned toward Jason: Your tonsils did WHAT

[nakylvr]

Hey, can I request for Daniela Avanzini where Y/n is also a member of katseye and she’s dating dani (at this point they’re very popular) but Dani gets jealous because Y/n and Megan have been getting shipped a lot on tiktok and people make edits of them. Y/n gets a little annoyed bc she keeps telling Dani that obviously nothing is going on between her and Megan so she has nothing to worry about but Dani doesn’t wanna let it go.

I know it’s a lot lol but I love that you’re literally the only person writing katseye and I love your writing style. Thank you!

thank you so much for requesting this it was so fun! 🫶 im sorry it took a while 😓 and it lowkey went off the rails from the req im sorry

— ENVIOUS

daniela avanzini x fem!reader

warnings/tags: angst/happy ending, jealous!daniela, language, 7th member!reader, established relationship, mini argument, not proofread

main masterlist | katseye masterlist

it wasn't hard for daniela to get jealous. she could get jealous at someone merely looking at you for a second too long. but those were with people she didn't know. you figured she wouldn't get jealous over something silly like fans shipping you with megan and edits being made of you two.

you were unfortunately wrong.

it's what causes the first real argument in your relationship. you and daniela started dating right after the end of dream academy and the lineup was announced, having feelings for each other during the whole survival show and actually officially dating once it was all over. and it was great. you debuted, you went to kcon, you went on a mini asia tour, and everything was great.

you obviously knew it was easy to get daniela jealous. after debuting and getting popular there would be some celebrities that would try to talk to you or hit on you and she would suddenly appear beside you to drag you off somewhere. but you didn't think she would get jealous because of one of the members who was most definitely not into you.

the fans had grown to like you and megan as a duo, a ship even with some of the edits you've seen on tiktok. to the point where you two were one of the more popular ships in the fandom. you thought it was silly, and you would occasionally giggle at the edits because you didn't take it seriously and you thought it wasn't serious enough to worry about. until daniela saw.

she knows she shouldn't get jealous over it to the point she's essentially ignoring you. but that's just how she is. she knows she can't officially say anything cause management would go ballistic and they'd probably go on hiatus. she knows megan doesn't see you that way. but that's just how she is.

you knew something was wrong when daniela started ignoring you. and that was hard for her, you both knew that. she couldn't stand being away from you, let alone ignore you for days on end leaving you wondering what you did to cause this. so you knew something was seriously wrong then.

the girls noticed it too. the tension that had suddenly grown was odd for them all watching dani ignore you while you would stare with sad eyes trying to figure out what happened. but they couldn't do anything. daniela wouldn't budge on telling anyone anything. so everyone was left in the dark while you had to deal with how to address it.

it was late at night when all the girls were asleep that you decided to confront her on it. she was in the living room reading one of her books when you left your shared room with sophia and yoonchae, which you weren't surprised about. her eyes flickered up from the book only to look back down a second later once seeing it was you.

you slowly approach the couch before sitting down at the edge of it, keeping a distance between you two which the blonde notices. you glance over at her, letting out a sigh before speaking. "can we talk?"

"about what?" daniela responds, her eyes focused on the book but not reading anymore.

"gee i don't know, let's start at you ignoring me," you say, shaking your head and scoffing quietly.

"i'm not ignoring you." daniela's eyes stay fixated on the book, her hands gripping it more tightly in her hands.

"really? that's what you're going to say?" you look at her with furrowed eyebrows. "obviously you're ignoring me, and i don't know why. so please talk to me."

"there's nothing to talk about," daniela mutters.

your lips pursed in a thin line, your irritation starting to become greater at every word she says. without a second thought, you yank the book out of her hands and put it on the table in front of you, seeing her eyes widen as she finally looks at you.

"what the fuck, yn?"

"what the fuck?" you repeat. "what the fuck, daniela? that's what you have to say?"

when daniela's eyes meet yours for the first time in weeks, she can see the mixed emotions in them. you're angry, upset, confused. all because of her. she feels a twang of guilt rush through her at the sight.

"after ignoring me for weeks you're surprised i'm fed up with it?" you shake your head. "look, i don't know what i did, but i can't fix it unless you tell me. why have you been ignoring me?" you ask the question again.

"i'm not ignoring you."

you take a deep breath after her words, your anger starting to bubble up before you speak. "fine," you say, standing up. "if you won't tell me what's going on, then i think we should end this."

"what?" daniela's eyes go wide and her head jerks up to you when you stand, the expression on her face finally changing into something you hadn't seen, panic evident in her eyes. "you're not serious."

you just stare down at her, your arms crossed over your chest. "i am. we can't fix things if you won't say what the problem is. that's for everything. i don't even know what i did, daniela, because you won't tell me. how do i know if it's something serious or something petty like you being jealous? i don't. so yeah, i'm fucking serious," you tell her, your voice and look on your face being enough to tell her you are serious. "if you don't tell me in the next ten seconds then i can assure you this is over."

daniela feels her mouth go dry at your words. you're serious. you're serious about leaving her. she knows you're right. she knows she has to just suck it up and say it. just say it and she won't lose you. just fucking say it.

"i don't like how close you're getting with megan," she blurts out.

the words take a moment to process in your brain, and before you can even think of a response, she's continuing.

"i know she doesn't see you that way and you don't see her that way but i don't like it," she says. "i've seen all the edits, i've seen all the tweets, i mean fuck it's like how much more obvious can i be before people realize that you're with me? i know we can't officially say anything but i can't stand it. i trust you and the girls, of course i do, but what if a pr stunt happens? what if the company says you're dating some random celebrity and i-i'm left behind and you realize you don't really love me and–"

"dani, calm down." you sit down again, closer to her and cupping her face in your hands, cutting her off of her rambling. "are you really jealous over megan of all people? the clingiest girl ever? dani, there's nothing to worry about," you tell her. "it's nothing serious, you should know that. i love you, daniela. okay? even if for some random reason the company does a pr relationship i promise nothing will change between us. so please, stop worrying."

daniela slowly nods along to what you say, her eyes flickering across your face. "i'm sorry for ignoring you," she says in a quiet voice.

"it's alright," you reply, your thumb drawing circles on her cheeks. "i love you," you whisper.

"i love you too," she whispers back.

[anghraine]

So one of the revelations from watching the entirety of TOS is that Kirk and Spock's relationship is not only every bit as homoerotic as rumored and then some—though it is—but that they are also incredibly fucking unhinged about it. So for this week's poll, I wanted to honor this discovery!

(The character limitations don't allow for much detail, and in context these are even more incredible, so I'll add the links/clips/summations beneath the cut!)

1— "The Empath" (Season 3)

Context: the girl of the week, Gem, is a member of a species of mute empaths able to absorb others' injuries through sympathy and generally drawn to positive emotion. Meanwhile, Kirk is tortured by other parties in the episode to test her willingness to take on others' suffering, and he falls into an exhausted unconscious heap on a bench.

Gem starts to head away towards McCoy, but is suddenly arrested by something she senses and turns to look at Spock, who is moving over to sit next to Kirk and watch him sleep. When Spock realizes he's being observed, he turns away and pretends to study data in his tricorder. Gem isn't fooled, however, and walks back over to him, touching Spock's shoulder and staring at him with wonder in her face over this simple feeling whatever his emotion is while delicate music plays in the background. See for yourself:

2— "Shore Leave" (Season 1)

Context: Kirk is fatigued and strained and in physical pain after ... uh, everything (this episode was aired immediately after "The Conscience of the King" and "Balance of Terror," so it's not hard to buy). He tries to stretch out his back and Spock, standing behind Kirk with his hands on the back of the captain's chair, pulls his hands back and asks him if something is wrong. Kirk explains it's just the kink in his back. A pretty female yeoman starts massaging his back (uh) and Kirk welcomes it under the mistaken belief that it's Spock doing it:

"That's it. A little higher, please. Push. Push hard. Dig it in there, Mr.—"

Spock lifts a brow and pointedly steps forward so Kirk can see it's not him, and Kirk immediately orders the yeoman to stop with a meaningful look at Spock.

(Bonus episode points: Spock's smug satisfaction at tricking Kirk into taking shore leave where McCoy failed, and them grasping at each other when they're in danger.)

3— "A Taste of Armageddon" (Season 1)

Context: After Kirk successfully uses a risky gambit to trick two neighboring peoples into making peace rather than continuing to murder millions of people via computers, he explains his thinking:

It was a calculated risk. Still, the Eminians keep a very orderly society, and actual war is a very messy business. A very, very messy business. I had a feeling that they would do anything to avoid it, even talk peace.

When Spock is dubious about acting based on "a feeling," Kirk adds:

Sometimes, Mr. Spock, a feeling is all we humans have to go on.

Spock replies:

Captain, you almost make me believe in luck.

And then Kirk dials it up to:

Why, Mr. Spock, you almost make me believe in miracles.

Then the camera just focuses on Spock visibly trying to process this and the episode ends.

4— "Requiem for Methuselah" (Season 3)

Context: this is one of relatively few episodes in which Kirk actually gets to pursue a woman because he likes her rather than desperate circumstances; as usual with people he cares about, she dies. He's so emotionally drained at this point in the show that, upon returning to the ship, he describes his immortal rival for her love and himself as "A very old and lonely man, and a young and lonely man," mutters that he wishes he could just forget it all, and falls asleep at a table.

Meanwhile, Spock (who has been visibly intense and uncomfortable throughout the whole episode) stays nearby as McCoy enters. Spock gestures at him to stay quiet and McCoy briefly exposits a plot point to Spock, then segues into an unexpectedly vicious, half-smiling monologue about what Kirk's gone through in the episode and how Spock could never understand it:

Considering his opponent's longevity, truly an eternal triangle. You wouldn't understand that, would you, Spock? You see, I feel sorrier for you than I do for him, because you'll never know the things that love can drive a man to. The ecstasies, the miseries, the broken rules, the desperate chances, the glorious failures, the glorious victories. All of these things you'll never know simply because the word love isn't written into your book. Goodnight, Spock.

Spock just endures and politely replies "Goodnight, doctor," but after McCoy leaves, he allows himself to respond. Without so much as a scene break, Spock slowly walks over to the unconscious Kirk, touches his face, and mind-melds with him while he sleeps. And then he wipes Kirk's memory (!!!) of the tragic romance with his rival this girl, murmuring:

Forget.

5— "And the Children Shall Lead" (Season 3)

Context: a simple instance from a weak episode, but also ... damn, it's a lot. A bunch of children under the malign influence of an evil imperialist alien have managed to take over the Enterprise. This isn't the first time something roughly similar has happened, but at this point, Kirk has a full on panic attack as he and Spock leave the bridge and take the turbolift. Kirk clings to Spock as he melts down and Spock unsuccessfully tries to calm him with "Captain," but it only works when he murmurs, "Jim."

Kirk freezes and then immediately calms back down to his usual rational self. Spock is still concerned and Kirk assures him he'll be fine now (and is).

6— "Miri" (Season 1)

McCoy, Janice Rand, Kirk, and Spock are all gathered around trying to figure out the disease of the week, which has infected all of them (though Spock is asymptomatic). Kirk and Spock lock eyes and Spock points out that they can't go back to the ship, including him since he'd be a carrier, and then he adds:

Whatever happens, I can't go back to the ship ... and I do want to go back to the ship, captain.

Kirk smiles slowly and they just stare at each other as if Janice and McCoy had dropped off the face of the planet.

7— "The Tholian Web" (Season 3)

Context: Kirk is trapped in a different phase of space while a local anomaly is gradually driving the crew of the Enterprise to insane rage. At the same time, the hostile Tholians are threatening the Enterprise with the obvious intent of killing them all within short order, and Kirk's disappearance places Spock in command throughout this triple crisis. Spock refuses to order an escape, instead insisting on the Enterprise remaining in place to keep trying to rescue Kirk, homicidal insanity of the crew be damned, even as the Tholians began attacking.

McCoy urges Spock to prioritize the welfare of the Enterprise and its crew above Kirk, telling him they can't afford to stick around and keep trying. Spock refuses and things predictably get worse.

McCoy confronts him about his priorities:

You should've known what could've happened and done everything in your power to safeguard your crew. That is the mark of a starship captain, like Jim.

Plot events lead everyone, including Spock, to believe that Kirk is dead, and as acting commander, Spock also has to lead the memorial service:

as a result of the battle, we must accept the fact that Captain Kirk is no longer alive. [...] I shall not attempt to voice the quality of respect and admiration which Captain Kirk commanded. Each of you must evaluate the loss in the privacy of your own thoughts.

McCoy continues to lash out at him directly afterwards:

He was a hero in every sense of the word, yet his life was sacrificed for nothing. The one thing that would have given his death meaning is the safety of the Enterprise. Now you've made that impossible, Mr. Spock. [...] I really came here to find out why you stayed and fought. [...] You could have assured yourself of a captaincy by leaving the area. But you chose to stay. Why?

Spock coldly replies:

I need not explain my rationale to you or any other member of this crew.

They snap at each other until they find the recording left for both of them by Kirk in the case of his death. It (hilariously) begins:

Bones, Spock, since you are playing this tape, we will assume that I am dead, that the tactical situation is critical, and both of you are locked in mortal combat.

The message is honestly both wise and heartwarming about how they should respect each other and both have important qualities to offer in a crisis. McCoy immediately feels ashamed of how he's been behaving at such a moment, and tells Spock:

Spock, I, er, I'm sorry. It does hurt, doesn't it?

Spock bleakly replies:

What would you have me say, doctor?

8— "Turnabout Intruder" (Season 3)

Context: in the very peculiar series finale, Kirk's autocratic and vengeful ex-girlfriend uses some kind of machine to take control of his body, leaving him trapped in her body. Spock notices almost immediately that "Kirk" is acting out of character and that "Janice" clearly knows something, so he goes to talk to "her" and Kirk tells him everything. Spock thinks it's possible but there's no certain proof, and Kirk urges him to mind-meld with him:

You are closer to the captain than anyone in the universe. You know his thoughts. What does your telepathic mind tell you now?

Spock melds with him and is promptly convinced.

Bonus: Spock tries to help Kirk escape shortly thereafter and holds his wrist/hand for a good twenty seconds.

9— "The Paradise Syndrome" (Season 3)

Context: Kirk becomes a carefree amnesiac stranded on a planet of transplanted Indigenous people (it's as bad as it sounds), but there's a much more well-done subplot around Spock commanding the Enterprise in the meanwhile. He stubbornly risks the ship (again) to try and rescue Kirk, but the attempt disastrously fails, leaving the ship with only impulse power. McCoy says in some frustration:

Well, Spock, you took your calculated risk in your calculated Vulcan way, and you lost. You lost for us, you lost for that planet, and you lost for Jim.

Despite his exasperation, McCoy still tries to get Spock to rest. Spock simply ignores him and orders the ship to head towards the planet Kirk is stranded on, still stubbornly set on rescuing him, even though they have no warp capabilities and have to travel entirely by impulse power. When McCoy protests that it'll take months, Spock replies:

Exactly 59.223 days, doctor.

And there's no clever solution around it, either. They do take nearly two months getting to the planet and Spock spends 58 days of the journey fixated on figuring out the puzzle that will allow them to save Kirk. McCoy tries to get him to eat or sleep, since he's done little of either for over 50 days, but Spock refuses to do anything except prepare for rescuing Kirk:

I'm also aware when we arrive at the planet, we'll have barely four hours to effect rescue. I believe those symbols are the key. [...] I am not hungry, doctor. [...] My physical condition is not important, doctor. That obelisk is.

McCoy eventually threatens to call security to force him away from studying the puzzle and make him lie down, so Spock finally goes to bed. As soon as McCoy is gone and out of earshot, Spock just gets back up and returns to contemplating the puzzle until he has a breakthrough.

Then upon beaming down and finding an injured, still-amnesiac Kirk, Spock mind-melds with him to try and repair his memory.

I am Spock. You are James Kirk. Our minds are moving closer. Closer, closer, closer, James Kirk. Closer. [...] Our minds are one. [...] Spock!

Spock breaks the link and falls back, gasping. When McCoy asks what's wrong, Spock just says:

His mind. He is an extremely dynamic individual.

10— "The Enemy Within" (Season 1)

Context: Kirk has been split into two people, representing each half of his personality: one half is noble, intellectual, and restrained, but cautious and indecisive, while the other is strong and bold, but vicious, selfish, and violent. At this point in the episode, Spock et al don't know about the split, so good!Kirk is oblivious and evil!Kirk's bizarre behavior is being attributed to normal Kirk. McCoy sends Spock to the captain's quarters to find out what's wrong with him.

Spock dutifully goes to Kirk's quarters, where he finds good!Kirk relaxing without a shirt on and promptly realizes he's gay loses the ability to put normal sentences together. It's difficult to overstate or even describe the homoeroticism of this scene, so judge for yourself:

Bonus: after Spock realizes he's dealing with only half of Kirk and has taken up helping him present a good front, he has to keep correcting good!Kirk's weaknesses and tells him that acting like actual Kirk means "You can't afford the luxury of being anything less than perfect."

11— "Errand of Mercy" (Season 1)

Context: Kirk and Spock are trying to pass themselves off as members of a species of ostensibly docile, peaceful people being (ostensibly) colonized by the Klingon Empire. Kirk in particular struggles to keep his head down, and when a Klingon shoves and threatens Spock, Kirk loses his shit and nearly clobbers the Klingon. Spock manages to calm him down and as they walk away, Kirk mutters:

You didn't really think I was going to beat his head in, did you?

Spock replies:

I thought you might.

Kirk says:

You're right.

12— "Amok Time" (Season 2)

We all know about this one, let's be real. It's difficult to even choose a moment—Spock confiding in Kirk about Vulcan mating practices (Kirk: O_O) and his loathing of the prospect, with Kirk protecting his confidentiality ("I haven't heard a word you've said"), Kirk defending his own choice to implode his career and defy Starfleet (without breaking Spock's confidence) to rush Spock to Vulcan ("I owe him my life a dozen times over. Isn't that worth a career? He's my friend"), Spock telling Kirk he'll undoubtedly find pon farr "distasteful" and Kirk responding "Will I?", Spock begging T'Pau not to let T'Pring choose Kirk as her champion ("I will do what I must [in combat], T'Pau, but not with him! ... In the name of my fathers, forbid. Forbid! T'Pau. I plead with thee! I beg!"), Spock's bleak response to T'Pau's "live long and prosper" after his victory ("I shall do neither. I have killed my captain and my friend"), Spock explaining that his pon farr vanished the moment he thought he'd killed Kirk ("When I thought I had killed the captain, I found I had lost all interest in T'Pring"), McCoy trying to get Spock to admit that his relief at Kirk's survival is illogical and Spock blatantly lying that he is just concerned with the loss of an effective captain, to which Kirk simply responds "Yes, Mr. Spock. I understand" while McCoy splutters ...

But honestly, my favorite is the brief moment of unrestrained emotion when Spock discovers Kirk is still alive and he cries "Jim!" as his whole face lights up and he grabs him. It's one of the only times in TOS that he's in his right mind and yet too overwhelmed to hide what he feels, and it's famous for a reason.

[batsarebetterthanpeople]

#have mixed feelings bc think a lot of ppl are just letting off steam/not in convos where solidarity building is even possible#but overall yeah

Right but I'm not making this post to tone police people on what they say on their tumblr blogs I'm making this post to be very real about organizing. I have been interacting with a new friend group recently and its me, another person who's terminally online in the same way I am, a person who's raised by academics so they can easily slide into the marxist jargon and "all white people are racist" type takes that me and this other person speak in, and a self identified centrist who is a roblox and tiktok enjoying 18 year old. we know each other because we all do night club entertainment, and this kid is more established in this profession than the rest of us.

Anyway the point is that talking to this friend, who I want to say for our purposes is non white and grew up much poorer than I did, has low key shaken me when it comes to realizing that growing up on tumblr and reading marx and lenin as a 9th grader, and being raised by linguistics professors, has made me completely incapable of interacting with the average person in a way that makes me just... so bad at organizing. This whole website might as well be a psyop for the numbers its done on me being able to relate to people who I could theoretically win over if I was better at talking to people. This person has been a huge wakeup call. Like fuck me here I am talking to a relatively reasonable black lesbian who grew up in poverty and I cannot break through to them on economic or political issues, not because they're unreachable but because I'm so bogged down in jargon and tumblr hot takes that we the same words to mean completely different things and the way I phrase my opinions or react to certain things make them not want to talk politics with me.

so like, I'm going through my own political playbook and realizing quite a bit of it is completely alienating to people who I should be trying to win over. I cant even win over someone who runs in exclusively queer and mixed circles, because they were raised with what I can only describe as normal american politics. That should be low hanging fruit but here I am trying to talk about the means of production and I'm drawing a blank.

So anyway back to the point of the post. This sort of berating people for being too privileged is one of the things I'm becoming clear eyed about. like it's not a point of contention for me and this specific person or anything but you know, like, it's in the same family of online leftist habits that make us completely unaproachable. I don't engage with it very often but I do shut my mouth because part of me is like "well yeah that person is privilaged and it probably feels bad to hear someone complain about for the less privilaged." but then I actually get in a real life situation and I'm like wait I could win this person over if I just knew how. It's not about handing them a copy of Das Capital, it's not about beraiting them for being privilaged until they feel bad and take up a monk like oath to never step out of line or discuss their own suffering, it's about acknowledging what's wrong and pointing them in the right direction, and that goes for every single person not just those that are more privilaged than you complaining, even though that's what this post is about.

And online is like real life in many ways, If you come onto a person's post and make a snippy comment, you've alienated a potential ally, because theres someone on the other end of that keyboard.

tl;dr: This is just one of many post's I'm gonna be making or have made where I discuss the pitfalls of my own ability to talk to people and tumblrs general tendancy to treat people who could be won over like hot garbage. It's not about tone policing or venting it's about how I see a lot of you alienating potential allies because you're more invested in being leftier than thou, which is a tendancy I also see in myself.

I'm glad yall like this post just clarifying because I know deep in my soul that this post already has been screencapped and had the wavy filter put over it by someone who will go on to make at least on person who could have been down for the cause turn away from us by being completely unpleasant, and who does nothing for leftist organizing but is completely devoted to infighting on tumblr . gov

Saying that a certain group of people is too privileged to complain about the way that things are is its own sort of defense of the status quo

[sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth]

I dreamed of the places I’ve been with you (Sam Winchester x female reader)

You have a dirty dream about Sam while the two of you are stuck in the Impala, and Sam has a… reaction to it.

Read it on AO3

Rated E. 4.1k words. Stuck in the Impala. Wet dreams. Inappropriate boners. Dirty talk. Mutual masturbation. Sammy being the sweetest dork.

“How does he keep doing that?” you sigh, a touch of admiration in your voice.

Sam chuckles. “I don’t think he can help it, honestly.”

You cross your arms over the back of the Impala’s front seat, put your chin on your hands. “They just keep throwing themselves at him,” you say.

Sam nods. “Yup,” he says. “Welcome to my life.”

Both of you keep watching as Dean talks to the single mom you just saved from a ghoul a few hours earlier. She's hot, there's no denying it, and Dean has been flirting shamelessly with her from second one. Now that she's out of immediate danger, she's flirting back.

Sam sits in the passenger seat of Dean’s car, the Impala, you in the back while you marvel at them, watching them like zoo animals where they are standing a few feet away from the car.

Just then, the hot mom’s hand lands on Dean’s arm in an oh-so-casual gesture.

“Look, look,” you say, slapping Sam’s shoulder to make sure he pays attention. “She’s about to do the horny giggle.”

A second later, the mom leans forward, cocking one of her hips as she laughs at something Dean said, then bites her lower lip.

“Wow,” Sam replies, “lip bite, too, huh?” You nod. “I guess we’ll be here a while.”

But a few seconds later, Dean turns away from her and walks towards the car, leaning into the window on Sam’s side. “Allison wants to show me her record collection.”

Sam scoffs, and you say: “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Dean rolls his eyes.

“Okay, virgins,” he replies. “I’ll just hop in and you guys wait here, okay? Won’t take long.” Sam makes a face.

“Dude,” he says, “that’s not something to brag about.” You lean forward to see Dean better.

“We’re not gonna sit out here while you’re in there getting laid, Dean,” you say, your tone irritated. “We can just drive back to the motel and pick you up when you’re done disappointing her.” Sam chuckles, but Dean shakes his head.

“The motel’s an hour away,” he says. “I’m not waiting an hour to have Mom and Dad pick me up. I’m not fifteen.”

You are just opening your mouth to complain, when Dean says: “My car, my rules. You’re waiting here.”

Then he walks off back to the hot mom and the two walk into her house. Sam shakes his head.

“This is…” he says, but doesn't finish saying what it is.

“I feel like a pimp,” you offer instead. You stare at the house Dean and the woman just vanished into.

“Well,” you sigh, resigned, pushing your backpack you have on the backseat with you towards the far end of the bench, moving to lay your head down on it. “Nothing to do but wait and hope Allison’s a fast one.”

Sam chuckles and turning back to you, seeing you laid out on the bench, asks: “You wanna take a nap?” You shake your head.

“Just getting comfortable,” you say. “I’m not even tired.” You're asleep five minutes later.

You're feeling warm and your body is tense and you wake with an intense shudder.

You notice your mouth is open and your fists clenched, your chest heaving, desperately trying to suck in oxygen.

Nightmare, you think immediately, but then, noticing the intense pressure in your core as your brain iss moving further towards consciousness, nope, definitely not a nightmare.

You blink your eyes open, disoriented by the darkness in front of you and a weird rushing sound. For a moment, you have no idea where you are until you angle your head up and recognize the roof of the Impala. A few seconds later, you realize that the roaring is rain coming down on the roof of the car.

You feel shaky, but also weirdly grounded. Warm and comfortable. Pushing yourself up on your elbow, you look around.

The car is still standing in front of hot mom’s house, the memory of which is slowly coming back to you. Sam is in the front seat, his back leaned into the angle of the door and the front bench. He's looking down and when you press yourself up higher, you see that he has a huge leather bound tome on his lap, one hand slightly angling it so he can read it by the soft light of his flashlight he is holding with his other hand.

The reason the flashlight is on is not just because it's raining, but because it has gone dark, the only other light a street lamp somewhere nearby.

You run your hand over your face, trying to rub some of the sleep from it.

“Dean not back yet?” you ask.

You half expect Sam to flinch, considering how deep he is usually absorbed in his reading, but he doesn't.

“Uh, nope,” he says, only throwing you a very quick look, immediately looking back at his book. Your breathing has slowed down but when you touch your face you feel that it's hot.

“Oh,” you say, then swallow, hoping you sound normal. “Good for you, Allison.”

Sam chuckles, but it's forced. Maybe you would notice earlier that he's acting weird if you didn't look at him then, at his profile, bringing the details of your dream back to you.

It's only splinters, but it's enough to make your face feel even hotter immediately.

You dreamed about Sam. His mouth, and his hands, sucking against your throat and gripping your hair. His broad back over you, and his narrow hips moving, pushing…

You have to move your legs when you realize you're pushing your thighs together, the remnants of what you're pretty sure was the orgasm you had in your sleep coming alive immediately.

You push yourself up further to a sitting position, throwing another look at Sam quickly. He isn't looking back at you, but his jaw is clenched, the hands holding the book gripping the edges hard. Oh no. Oh no no no.

Did you make noises that told him what you were dreaming about? Did you say anything that might have given away that you were dreaming about him? Does he know that you…?

“Shit,” you mutter, involuntarily.

“Hmm?” Sam says, still not looking up.

“Nothing,” you say way too quickly. You move your legs and suddenly in abject horror wonder if Sam might be able to tell that you were still aroused, smell your sweat or your wetness, so you quickly pull your legs up, tugging your arms over your knees.

Silence, then, horrible awkward silence that makes your head spin and then makes you think of your dream-Sam again, the noises he made, like the ones the real-Sam makes when he's hurt or angry, and you wonder if that was how he sounded.

You take a sharp breath to dispel the thoughts. You are making this a lot worse for yourself, you think.

The silence continues, the only sound the rain and your breathing and your heartbeat in your ears. It's deafening. Looking back at Sam, you see that his tongue is going over his lower lip, his brow knotted in concentration.

“What are you reading?” you ask finally, unable to stand it anymore. This time Sam does flinch.

“Uhm, uh,” he stutters and then he actually slightly turns over the front cover of the book because he has to look at it to see what he's reading. Weird, you think. He looked so concentrated.

“It’s, uh,” he continues, “a history of this underground society that basically, uhm,” he looks at the page again, seemingly completely forgetting what this underground society did. While he's still looking for the answer, you chuckle a little.

“Sounds like it’s real engaging,” you can't help but tease him. Sam grins.

“It is,” he says. “I mean it was.” You wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn't.

“Let me see?” you say, holding your hand out to him. Sam usually loves it when you show interest in whatever he's obsessing over that week, but he looks up and then at you with shock on his face.

“No,” he says. You wrinkle your brow.

“What?” you ask.

“It’s just,” Sam says, “I don’t think you’d like it.”

"What are you talking about?” you ask. “I love cults, or societies or whatever, you know that.”

“Yeah, I know,” Sam says, “I just don’t think you’d like this one.”

“Oh my god,” you mutter, then, forgetting your worries about your body, lean forward, over the bench and pull the book from his hands. Sam doesn't fight you, but fidgets in his seat when you sit back, leaning forward a little. You look at the book, keeping it open at the page Sam was on.

“This even has illustrations,” you say, then look up at Sam. “Sam, I’m a sucker for illustrations, what do you mean I wouldn’t like this?” Sam doesn't reply immediately, just clears his throat.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice a little more quiet. “I know.”

He isn't making any sense, so you lean forward and pass the book back to him. He's just grabbing for it when you look down.

There's a considerable bulge in Sam’s pants.

You immediately lean back, but Sam knows you’ve seen it. He lays the book back over his lap, his lips in a tight line, looking anywhere but at you.

The brothers and you live so closely together that this shouldn’t be a big deal. You’ve seen Dean in several states of undress and walked in on him and a hook-up more times than you can count.

But Sam has always been more private, more considerate, you might say. He changes his clothes where you can't see, even though, if you're being really honest, you want to see. It has gotten to the point where seeing him in a t-shirt sometimes gets you flustered, so starved are you for seeing more of him.

So this, while it shouldn’t be, feels like a big deal. A big deal. You chew the inside of your lip and that awful silence is back.

“Sam,” you say, and he immediately says: “Don’t, okay?” His tone is gentle, though. “This is really embarrassing, I feel like a damn teen.”

“It’s not embarrassing,” you reply, because it really isn't, thinking of your own little excitement mishap. To tell the truth, the thought that Sam is sitting there, hard, is not helping you calm down any.

Hoping to make things less awkward for him, you say: “I mean, illustrations get me going, too.” Sam looks up, and then understands a second later. He looks away, grimaces, and some of the discomfort seems to dissipate from him.

“Wasn’t the illustrations that did this,” he says, a small bashful smile on his lips.

“Oooh,” you say, nodding. “Hot mom Allison and her record collection?” Sam actually chuckles, and you feel proud of yourself. Crisis averted. Now you can just go back to pining for Sam without the chance that anything is ever going to come of it.

But then he shakes his head, and his expression turns serious.

“Wasn’t her either,” he replies, his voice quiet. Then he looks at you, his head slightly turned to the side. “What did you dream about?”

A wave of heat goes through you. So you did make some noises. Goddamn it. A flash of dreaming about Sam kissing you roughly goes through your head, his lips bruising yours. But maybe you just made general noises, dream noises. Maybe you can convince him it was a nightmare.

“Uh, not sure,” you say, and it's your turn to stutter now. “Why, did I, like, say anything?” Sam licks his lip, still looking at you. You se him swallow, his throat moving.

“Uhm, you were kind of sighing? And, and,” Sam clears his throat, then continues. “And your body was really tensing up, and I thought maybe it was a nightmare but then you… moaned?” Sam looks down at his lap where the book is. So much for your amazing plan.

“Oh,” you say, pretending this is surprising you. “Sounds like a fun dream.” Like you don't remember the warm waves going through you when you woke up, the lightness and then the delicious heaviness. Sam nods.

“You were also kind of, uhm,” he continues, and you're not sure why he is telling you all this, why he can't just downplay this like you did his stupid boner. “You were also kind of…writhing. And moving your hips a lot. And your face was…” Sam swallows again. “You had this expression that was really sexy.”

Your mouth drops open. Sexy?

Sam keeps going: “It looked like you were in pain for a  second and then it was gone and it just looked…sexy.” He’s said it twice now and you feel heat go through you. What is he even saying?

Sam licks his lips again, the short view of the muscle making you press your lips together, and then he looks back at you. “And I guess I was maybe watching you and listening to you and that’s what lead to this whole situation.”

Your breathing is going heavy and you wondered if Sam notices. What is going on with you might generally be easier to hide than what Sam has going on, but you're pretty sure that right then it is clear as daylight. Sam is hard because he listened to you having your sexy little dream. The dream that was about him. Jesus H. Christ on a popsicle stick. How are you going to ever deal with that?

“I’m—I’m flattered,” you say quietly. Sam smiles a little.

“It doesn’t weird you out?” he asks carefully. You shake your head.

“No, it’s actually kind of appropriate,” you reply. Sam frowns.

“Appropriate?” he asks. You can't help but grin, suddenly feeling a little mischievous. “Yeah, cause the dream I had was about you.”

Well, it's out there now, that's for certain. You watch Sam’s reaction, wondering if he's about to be the one who's weirded out. But he isn't. He keeps looking at you and you notice that his breathing has gotten heavier too. Something twitches in his jaw and he leans one arm on the back of the front bench. Just lying there, not doing anything, but its closeness, seeing his hand splayed there causes a reaction in you that you did not anticipate.

You press your legs together where you still hold them against you, and Sam’s eyes shoot down for just a moment, tracking the movement. Then he looks up at your face again.

“What was I doing,” he asks, voice low, “in the dream?” Your teeth find your lip at his words, the need to press down on something strong in you suddenly. This is happening. This is really happening.

“You… were touching me,” you say.

“Where?” Sam asks. His voice isn't shaky at all, it's steady, confident suddenly, which is not something you would have expected from him. You try to remember the dream, thinking for a second.

“Everywhere,” you say. “But you started with my face.”

Sam’s eyes meet yours then and both of you look at each other for a moment. You feel your eyelids flutter at your renewed arousal, the heat between your legs becoming uncomfortable. Sam nods.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” he asks, voice still steady but breathing harder. You move your shoulders.

“I do,” you say, “but it’s making me, uhm, it’s making me a little…”

Sam nods again. “Me too.”

There's silence for a moment again, and then Sam and you notice at the same time that you're rocking yourself against the bench beneath you. You stop immediately, but Sam says in the same moment: “Keep going.”

Fuck. You really want to. You really want to but this was so…

Shouldn’t you kiss first? Go on a date? Hold hands? You're not sure about any of this, only that Sam is looking at you and that you want to touch yourself.

“Are you gonna...?” you ask, too nervous to say more.

Sam nods. “If that’s okay with you?” Oh wow, is it ever okay with you. You nod.

Sam’s arm over the back of the bench doesn't move, but you can see the shoulder of his other arm does. He turns the flashlight off, the light from the street light still letting you see him, then you hear the flash light fall to the floor, and his arm keeps moving.

So you push your ass further down on the bench, meaning your legs are angled away from you a little, then let your hand slip between them, pushed into your jeans. It's a tight fit and there's another layer of clothing in-between but when you press down your lower body twitches in response.

Sam is still watching you, not saying anything, but you see his shoulder moving.

“Tell me,” he finally says, his voice so quiet as to be difficult to hear over the rain outside.

“We were,” you start, “in bed. It was a huge bed, not some dingy motel room. Nice white linen and sheets and, and we were both naked.”

Sam breathes in through his nose, and you press down on yourself again, another shudder going through you. Jesus, you're sensitive right now.

“It was, uhm, it was like snippets, cause it was a dream,” you explain, and Sam nods, his eyes not leaving your face. “But in one of them, you were over me. And you were kissing my neck, sort of rough and gentle at the same time.”

“What were you doing?” Sam asks.

“I was… My head was leaned back and my eyes were closed and my hands were in your hair, holding on to you.”

“And?” Sam asks.

“And,” you reply, your fingers having found a rhythm while you're still rocking yourself against the seat. “And you were fucking me.”

Sam closes his eyes for a few seconds, a low moan escaping him.

“Did you like it?” he asks, his voice sounding a little cracked now. Holy shit, it's the most erotic thing you've ever heard in your life. Sam, the master of self-control and decency, losing it at the wet dream you had about him.

“I loved it,” you say, your own voice a little breathy. “You were big and solid and fucking me hard and making me come.”

Sam’s shoulder starts moving faster.

“I want to do that,” he says, almost panting. “I want to make you come.”

Your own rhythm is picking up, your fingers pressing hard against you, and you can feel an almost violent knot of pleasure building in you.

“Do it, Sam,” you say, and your other hand going to your breast, finding the nipple and pinching it through the fabric.

“I want to see that face you made,” Sam pants. “Really hear you, hear you say my name when you come.”

He looks into your eyes then and your vision almost becomes blurry. “I want to feel you come while I’m inside of you.”

Then your body is tensing, everything pulling inwards, your eyes squeezing shut and a pained sounding noise leaves you, and a second later your head falls back on the bench, a sob of "oh God" leaving you as wave after wave of intense pleasure rolls through you.

You're breathing hard, eyelids heavy but then your eyes fly open when your hear Sam curse under his breath.

“Fuck,” he says, and you look at him just in time to see him also squeeze his eyes shut, his shoulders drawing up and his face making the most beautiful expression you have ever seen. He groans once and then lays his head back, panting, features full of bliss, all tension gone from him.

You're both quiet for a while, letting your bodies calm down, your breathing adjust.

After a few minutes, you see Sam move out of your half-closed eyes, and he's looking at you again.

“Holy shit,” he says, his face unbelieving. You can't help but laugh.

“Holy shit indeed,” you respond. He grins at you, lopsided. Then his attention is drawn away, and he opens the glove box, rummaging around for a second. He pulls something from it and holds it up for a second, a shy smile on his face. It's a box of tissues.

“Gotta clean up,” he mumbles, pulling a few tissues out and then throwing the box back into the glove box. You see him move his arms, a concentrated look on his face as you study at his features, watch at him move.

“I think I’ll skip the cleaning process,” you say after a while, “and go straight for new underwear.” Sam grins again.

“I know I didn’t do anything,” he says and seems to be finished with what he's been doing. “But why does that feel like such a compliment?” Now it's your turn to grin.

“Believe me, Sam,” you say, “it is a compliment.”

He looks back up at you, his boyish grin slowly dropping from his face.

“Do you,” he says, suddenly seeming nervous again, “want to maybe, uhm, have dinner with me some time? I mean I know we have dinner together all the time, but I mean, like a….”

He falters for a second, so you finish his sentence. “A date?”  

Sam nods. “A date.”

“I think we did this the wrong way around,” you say, instead of answering. “I think you’re supposed to have dinner first and then come at the same time.”

Sam’s laugh surprises and thrills you.

“I guess it’s a little untraditional,” he says, nodding.

“I would love to go on a date with you, Sam,” you reply, and he beams at you, making you want to kiss him. So you do. Despite what you had just done, it still makes you nervous.

You lean forward, pushing yourself up until you're up to the front bench. Sam moves forward as well when he realizes what you're doing and then your lips met.

The angle is awkward, the bench pressing against your boobs and when Sam tries to get his hand up to cup your face he has to first turn his upper body, break the kiss and then lean in again.

It's perfect. It's just awkward and uncoordinated as a first kiss should be, no matter what else you have done.

When you stop kissing, you faces still close, you grin at each other like idiots. You kiss Sam's cheek, just because you felt like it.

Suddenly the light outside changes and you both turn to look. It's hot mom’s porch light and a second later you see Dean come outside and jog down towards the car, collar up to stop the rain from getting in.

You lean back on the bench, and Sam turns again, pretending he's sitting normally in his seat.

Dean makes it to the driver’s side, quickly opens the door and sits inside, making a few drops of rain spray everywhere.

“Now,” he says, closing the door behind him. “That little bit of waiting wasn’t so bad, was it? You kids have fun?”

There's silence for a moment, then Sam picks up the book from where it has apparently fallen into the foot well on his side.

“Yeah,” he says. “We entertained ourselves.”

Dean opens his mouth, probably to make fun of his brother’s nerdiness, but then closes it again. He sniffs. Your body tenses and you see Sam’s do the same.

“Did you guys screw in here?” Dean asks, eyebrows high and eyes narrowed.

“No!” you and Sam say at the same time. It's technically true, depending on your definition of screwing. Dean looks back at you and then at Sam, suspicion on his face.

“Mmh hmm,” he says, then looks forward, starting the car. Sam throws a quick look back at you and you have to suppress your grin. 

Once you've been driving down the dark roads for a few minutes, Sam puts his arm back over the back of the front bench. Instead of laying it on top, however, he lets his arm dangle over it, letting it swing until his hand finds your leg. When he does, he squeezes it.

You bring your hand forward as much as you can without moving, hoping not to draw any attention to yourself. Finding Sam's big, warm hand, you lay yours over it, gently stroking it with your thumb.

You look up, and Sam is grinning in the dark.

[rosenclaws]

Over and Over Again || DOFP!Logan x Reader

Summary: Logan wakes up in 2023 in a brand new timeline. In this world you're still alive and you're married, but he doesn't remember a thing.

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending

wc: 3.5k

a/n: damn bro these song fics keep getting longer and longer lmao. Anyways here is my third instalment of a fic based on “Would You Fall In Love With Me Again” from Epic the Musical. I hope you like this one too! If you wanna read the other two you can find them here and here

Yesterday everything made sense. Yesterday you woke up next to your husband Logan, made coffee, graded a few essays, trained with Logan in the danger room, and then went to dinner. You kissed him good night and turned out the light to go to bed. Today? Your whole fucking life is being flipped upside down.

You knew something was wrong the moment you saw Logan standing barefoot in Charles' office. He had this look on his face. A mix between confusion and grief. A longing in his eyes that just didn't make sense when you had kissed him good morning only a few hours ago.

"You're alive?" Logan says breathlessly, his eyes widening as the words leave his mouth.

Realizing his mistake immediately. But he couldn't help himself. Not when the last memory he had of you was holding you as you died.

"Charles, what's going on?" You asked in a panicked voice. Logan, this Logan, your? Logan, reached out for you but you stepped back. You don't know why but you just did it. Though it's hard to see the hurt in Logan's eyes when you do.

"My dear," Charles says softly, his eyes darting from you to Logan.

"I think you should sit down for this."

You aren't the only one to be called into Charles office. Standing around you was Ororo, Jean, Scott, and Hank. Before you stood Logan with his arms crossed as Charles weaves a wild and frankly impossible story.

This Logan is not the man you knew.

He's from an alternate timeline where the X-Men were being hunted and eradicated, the world being over run by these things called the Sentinels. How everyone in this room was dead in Logan's world. The last chance they had was sending his consciousness back in time to stop the chain of events and according to Charles he had done it. He had saved the world and everyone in this damn mansion. But at the cost of his own memories, his own life in a way.

"Jean, please stay. I want you to help in attempting to get his memories back. The rest of you thank you and please do not tell anyone else about this." Everyone starts to move but you.

You stay seated in your seat, unsure of what to do. Do you go up to him? He's still your husband after all, but is he? You feel his eyes staring into your head as you finally make your move and get up. Walking right up to him.

"Hi, Logan." You say softly.

"Hi." You bite your lip nervously as you try and think of something to say. There's this awkward tension between the two of you. Something you haven't felt since you first met. Though you guess this is technically a first meeting. It's really confusing.

"Logan, shall we begin?" Charles cuts through your thoughts. You don't want to leave, in fact you have a million questions that will pour out once you figure out how to talk to him. But it's going to have to wait.

"I uh...I'll find you after." He mumbles, his hand moves to cup your face but he stops before he can actually touch you.

"Yeah, I'll see you after." You smile awkwardly and gently grab his hand, giving it a small squeeze before leaving. Logan wants so badly to hold on, to tighten his grip and never let you leave his side. But he can't. So he just lets you go.

You waited. Hours passed and you heard nothing from Logan or Jean or Charles. Every hour you'd pass by the office, hearing muffled voices coming from the other side of the door. It was tearing you apart just waiting for them to be done. But that's all you can do.

By the time the sun goes down you give up on waiting for Logan. Slinking to a small corner of the mansion. What if something horrible happened? What if they can't get his memories fixed and he'll never remember what your life was like together. How you met, how you fell in love, how he proposed, your first dance. Did he truly forget it all? You rest your head in your hands as you listen to the grandfather clock tick and tick.

Or...does he remember it all. Does he remember it and regret it? You're dead in his timeline. So what if you two were never meant to be together, what if he remembers both timelines and...he doesn't want you anymore.

You trudge back to your room, wanting to just sleep. Maybe when you wake up tomorrow this will all be some insane dream. Unfortunately you forgot that you share a room with Logan. As you open the door you see him sitting on the bed. A cigar in his hands as he stares out the window. Though he quickly turns around when he hears you.

"Hi, again." He says, snuffing out the cigar.

"Hi." Fuck can you say any other word but hi to his man?

"How did it go with the professor?" You ask, wringing your hands together behind your back. Logan shrugs and the look on his face doesn't give you much hope.

"Not great." You just nod, unsure of what to say next.

"I um, Chuck set up another room for me so...I'm gonna sleep there tonight." Logan winces as he sees your face fall. He doesn't want to be apart from you but it's what's best. He needs to sort out his...well everything. Besides, he's practically a stranger to you now.

"Oh." You squeak out.

"If that's what you want." It's not.

Still Logan just nods his head and stands up, grabbing a few things and silently slipping past you.

"Room 246. I'm in room 246." He tells you, staring at you one last time before leaving you alone in your bedroom.

You sleep like utter shit. You're so used to having Logan by your side that being alone just fucking sucks. You miss him so much. You contemplated going to his room but you didn't think he wanted you there. Logan has another session with Charles in the morning. You only see a glimpse of him before he disappears into the office. You wonder if he feels just as miserable as you do.

The next week is filled with the same tension and unbearable awkwardness. It's like he's a ghost. Only there when you turn around, out of the corner of your eye. You hated it. God it was awful, you longed to be next to him. For him to hold you again, kiss you. You don't even know why he's avoiding you. Logan had always been difficult when it comes to opening up but Logan, your Logan was getting better at it.

It's well into the night and you're still sitting in an empty classroom. You don't really sleep in your bed anymore. It reminds you too much of him. There's a couch near your desk anyways. With Logan in memory recovery you have been covering his classes. You sit in silence as you grade the latest test when you hear heavy boots approaching you.

"It's late," You look up to see Logan leaning against the doorframe.

"I know, but I need to get this done." You gesture to the stack of tests next to you.

"You need to sleep, I've noticed you haven't been doing that much." Your heart skips a beat, has he really been keeping tabs on you like that.

"I'll be okay Logan, really." You say gently. But your answer isn't good enough for him. You watch as he walks over to your desk and grabs half of the tests and a red pen.

"Logan It's fine really," You argue but he doesn't listen.

"What if-" You stop yourself before you finish the question.

"What if my history is different? Don't worry sweetheart I went back to the 70's not the civil war." The nickname rolls of his tongue with ease, he doesn't even realize he said it until he sees you get shy.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." Logan apologizes, silently kicking himself. He never should have come here. He just. He just really misses you.

"Don't apologize, It's just been a while since you called me that." You try to hide the soft smile by propping a paper up to block your face. Time passes, the only sounds being the scribbling of pens.

"Damn, Was I that bad of a teacher?" He asks as he crosses out a whole paper in red pen. You giggle and Logan looks up, a smile on his face as he hears that sweet sound.

"You're not a bad teacher, you're the favorite actually. Though sometimes you play favorites with your students." You tease, remembering how easy Jubilee could get out of being late just by bringing Logan coffee in the morning.

"Favorite? I doubt that." He snorts, Logan isn't exactly the fresh faced happy go lucky teacher that you bring an apple to. In fact he never considered himself much of a teacher of anything.

"It's true, you're tough on them but they just love you." "That doesn't sound like me." Logan jokes, though he quickly regrets his word choice when he sees your eyes cloud with sadness.

"I..." He sighs, great he fucked this up already.

"It's okay, sorry I just, I'm still getting used to all this." You offer him a small smile but he can see right through it. You're still his wife after all and he knows you.

"How are you? This must be a lot for you." You ask, turning the conversation away from you.

You've been so focused in your own grief that you hadn't given what he must be feeling much thought. You start to feel guilty, I mean this can't be easy for him either. Logan sets the red pen down. Sighing as he runs his hands through his hair.

"I'll be alright sweetheart," He doesn't want you to worry about him.

"Please, talk to me." You reach your hand out.

Your left hand. The one with the wedding band still sitting on your finger. Logan's breath hitches as he recognizes that ring. It's a little worn from the years of wear but he knows it. He bought that ring for you a long time ago.

"I feel like a ghost. I remember my old timeline and Jean and Charles have been able to unlock bits and pieces of this one but it doesn't feel real." He admits.

"Do you regret it? Changing the timeline?" You ask and Logan shakes his head.

"No." Not at all. In fact even with all this confusion he would do it again in a heartbeat. Anything if it means you're alive. You start to ask another question but a yawn cuts through your words.

"Alright, it's bedtime now." Logan says with little room for argument. He gets up and heads to the door but you don't follow. He turns around to see you laying out a blanket on the couch.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" You jump at the harshness of his voice.

"I've been sleeping on the couch the last couple nights." You say casually.

Though to Logan it's like a knife to the heart. Not on his watch. You roll your eyes seeing the look on his face, that protective grumpy look.

"It's comfortable and my room is too far, I'm just going to take a short nap. You grumble. You always were stubborn and Logan knows there's no changing your mind.

"Fine." He shuts off the lights and walks over, sitting on the edge of the couch putting a pillow on his lap.

"Logan..."

"Come on, just a nap right?" You're too tired and if you're honest too selfish to pass this up.

To be this close to Logan again is a dream. You settle down with your head in his lap groaning as your head sinks to rest on his big thighs. Logan drapes a blanket over you, his hands coming to rub your back in a gentle soothing motion. It doesn't take long before you're out like a light. Drifting to sleep faster than you have all week.

When you wake up you're not in your classroom anymore. In fact you're in a bed with the covers tucked in and the sunlight streaming through the window.

"Just a nap right?" You mimic in a high pitched voice as you get out of bed. It becomes very clear the moment you spot the clothes in the corner of the room that this isn't your bedroom.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out who's it is. You take one of the pillows and hug it to your chest. The smell of Logan's cologne wraps around you. Fuck you missed waking up next to him. You gently set the pillow down and swipe one of the shirts sitting on the floor before darting back to your room.

"Good morning sweetheart, sleep well?" Logan asks as you walk into the kitchen.

"Yeah, I haven't slept that well in a couple days." You sigh as he hands you a cup of coffee.

You take a sip and to your surprise it's perfect, just how you like it. Before you can say another word Logan is already gone. The hope in your chest deflating just a little bit. But last night was the closest you've been since he came back. It's a step in the right direction.

It's another week of dancing around each other. You talk more, laugh more. He still sleeps in a separate room but you find yourself spending more time together. It's little things that you notice first. That he still hates pop music and he drinks black coffee. His favorite brand of beer is still Molson. In small ways it's like you have him back. But then you see that he picks the salt and vinegar chips over plain and it all comes crashing down again. How stupid is that? Heartbroken of his favorite chip flavor? But to you it's just a reminder that he is different. But does that even matter?

You find yourself drifting to sleep in your bed this time, holding onto Logan's shirt as a way to soothe you to sleep. But you're quickly pulled from dreamland by a loud knock on your door. It's frantic and quite startling. You throw the covers off and stumble to the door, throwing it open to see who's bothering you so late.

"Logan?" You ask half asleep, rubbing your eyes as you see him standing in front of you. You notice the fearful look in his eyes and it seems to snap you awake. You step aside and let him in.

"I didn't mean to wake you. I just needed to see you." He's tense and his eyes keep darting around the room, like he's waiting for an attack. Seeing you is slowly helping his brain but every time he closes his eyes his nightmare replays in his head. He looks down at his hand and swears he sees blood.

"Logan, come here." You take his hands, covering his palms with yours and guiding him to the bed.

"I don't want to bother you sweetheart," He mumbles, his resolve breaking pretty quickly as he lays his head next to yours.

"Tell me about it, your nightmare." He furrows his brows in confusion, how did you know?

"I know that look." You cup his face and smile. It feels so right to be next to him right now. Logan sighs, his hand covering yours as he just soaks in being next to you. That nightmare felt so real, probably because it was.

"It was the day I lost you. In my timeline."

"The sentinels?" You ask but he shakes his head.

"No you...you died before they were even created. Probably for the best. It was a mission. A simple one that went to shit so quickly." It was all Logan's fault. He woke up every day knowing that if he had been faster, been better. You would still be alive.

"They took advantage of my super senses, they overwhelmed me with noise and smells. I tried to fight through it I really did, but I was too weak." Logan feels you wipe his cheek, a tear he didn't even realize was falling.

"By the time it was over, you were fatally wounded. I held you in my arms. I begged you not to go. Not to leave me but it was too late." Your eyes cloud with tears as Logan tells his story.

The absolute grief in his voice, god how horrible. You don't know what you'd do if Logan died, how you'd even continue on. Yet this man kept fighting, kept saving peoples lives. Even when he wanted to give up and walk away.

That's the Logan you know. He'll always be the hero he never thinks he is. So what if there's a few differences. At his core Logan will always be the man you fell in love with.

"I'm so sorry," You whisper, you crawl onto his chest and hug him tightly.

Your face buried in his neck. He holds you tight. Breathing in the smell of your shampoo. He holds you for a long time before loosening his grip on you. The urge to stay like this forever is strong but there's a nagging in the back of his head. He's over stayed his welcome.

"I should get back to my room." He gently lays you back on the bed and moves to get up.

"What?" You ask in disbelief, scrambling to grab onto his arm.

"Please don't go Logan. Please the last two weeks have been horrible without you. I miss you, I miss my husband." You beg, tears falling down your cheeks.

"Sweetheart I'm not the man you married." He wipes away your tears.

"I miss you too. So fucking much. But it's best I keep my distance."

"Logan please! What do you mean you're not the man I married?!" You grab his shirt and pull him close to you. Logan grabs your wrists firmly but gently.

“You were my guiding light, the only thing that kept me going in the right direction. When I lost you, It felt like I lost myself." He tries to pry your hands off of him but you stand firm.

"I stayed with the team, I fought and killed and maybe they called me a hero. But it was never the same. I lost my way."

"But you saved the world, you're still my hero." Logan just chuckles sadly.

"I didn't give a fuck about the world." He confesses. He did care. Sort of. He knew that he was the X-Men's only hope when he got sent back. But his real motivation, his true motivation was you.

"Sweetheart, I may have saved the world but I did it for you. It’s always you.” He did it for the chance that he could save you, that somehow going back to 1973 would undo everything, that you'd be alive. He would sacrifice everything if it meant you got to live another day.

So when he woke up and saw that it had worked, he had never felt such relief. But the way you looked at him, you were scared. So uncertain. He couldn't just pick you up in his arms and kiss you like he had dreamed of. You were married in this world but he understood that he had essentially replaced the Logan that you knew.

So he kept his distance. The more he learned from Charles the more the other Logan sounded better. This Logan never had to stab Jean or watch his friends die one by one. How could he ever compare? He'd rather you be alive, even if it breaks his heart.

"I love you Logan, I love you so much." The words flood out of your mouth, unstoppable as you finally get the chance to see the truth about Logan.

"You're mine. Always. We belong together. Our love transcends timelines, universes, and all that bullshit."

"Don't you love me?"

"Of course I fucking love you don't you ever doubt that." He snaps.

He pushes you away because he loves you, he doesn't think he's worthy because he loves you so fucking much. He'd kiss the ground you fucking walk on if you asked.

"Then listen to me Logan." You grab his face and smash your lips on his, kissing him desperately.

Logan groans as he wraps his arms around your waist. You fall onto the bed, Logan propping himself up with his elbows. You tug on his hair, messing it up as you comb your fingers through it. You pull apart breathlessly, almost brought to tears from just getting to kiss your husband again.

"You're it for me Logan, forever." You mumble as he rests his forehead against yours.

"I love you too sweetheart, I missed you so much." He cradles your face in his hand, legs interlocked as the sheets become a tangled mess.

"How long has it been since you saw me?" You ask, Logans eyes filling with tears as he listens to your heart beat against his chest.

"Over 50 years." As the moon shines through the window the only thing on both of your minds is how lucky you truly are to have found a love like this.

To be destined to be together in every timeline, every world. It's you and Logan.

[nqueso-emergency]

It's so hilarious how Bob's constantly claim about media literacy and how we don't understand that Tommy was "never meant to last" or was anyone special (especially when you see how they twist every little thing to suit their narrative).

If Tommy was never meant to be special, why was Lou told that he was specifically only allowed to call Buck "Evan", making him stand out compared to other LI's?

If Tommy didn't mean anything to Buck, why would the writers have, instead of saying a generic I love you, have them get Josh to ask "do you think about him when he's not around, are his concerns your concerns, is his happiness as important as yours" and more importantly "do you see a future with him" to which Buck replied with a soft smile YES. Why would they bother having Josh give the speech about how you can't judge someone on their past for how they had to survive (which I believe was a very deliberate nudge from the writers at the BoBs that claim "how can Buck like Tommy, he's a racist/misogynist etc" because he acted like a dick in the behind episodes and apparently Tommy saying he regrets that isn't good enough for them) if Tommy meant nothing?

Why would they deliberately write a whole episode that wasn't originally planned to squeeze in before the break up to show how much they worked as a couple and have Buck give a closing monologue where he says "it's our people that make life worth living" and have Buck look at Tommy as he says it if Tommy wasnt important?

And more importantly, why would they, out of all of Buck's relationships, have this one be the only one that felt like it didn't end conclusively? Where they had BOTH characters say they wanted to be each other's lasts? And why show Buck obviously struggling to move on from Tommy, something we've never seen before? (Yes, he clung to Abby for months after she left, but that was because he believed they were still together. He didn't pine much once he finally broke it off.)

This isn't all speculation, or extrapolation or manipulation of scenes to make it fit our narrative. The is all stuff that the show has SHOWN and TOLD us (just like the show has told us Eddie is straight...) The show isn't deep - whenever the show has a mystery or something hidden about a character they make it obvious to the audience. Like when Maddie first came on the scene obviously hiding things from Buck but the audience very quickly learned about Doug. Or how prior to the Daniel reveal bother had Maddie talk about keeping a secret from Buck. The show spells these things out for their viewers. There is no hidden meaning in the way magnets are placed on a fridge or in a couch. Again, if the show wants to tell us something, THEY TELL US. That's how the show has always worked.

THAT is media literacy.

God bless you, anon. ❤️❤️

[xoxoavenger]

Hi, I saw your post about wanting some bycky requests I may have one.

Could you please write some Bucky x Fem!Reader where the reader is Tony's daughter? You can choose the plot, I kinda like imagining her being a cop or something like that tho

Feel free to ignore if you don't like it ♡

thank you for getting the ball rolling! I always have reader be adopted, just to have the story be more inclusive (and also to help make the age gap less crazy lol) and I also made reader a SWORD agent instead to fit the storyline, but this helped so much, thank you!

Win

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Stark!Reader

summary: Bucky's running for Congress, and he needs a win to help make some change. Y/N's just trying to support him the best she can.

word count: 2799

warnings: reader is adopted, age gap (MCU is in 2027 everyone so by my math reader is like late 30s, Bucky is mid-fourties, but you can imagine it however you want there's no specifics), if you're new here reader calls Bucky 'James' bc i like that and think it's cute, Bucky has some issues, written pre-Thunderbolts movie release so there could be some future inaccuracies

masterlist

Bucky knew he could never actually retire.

It was a nice thought, but in practice he hated how fucked the world was, how much he seemed like part of the the problem. It's why he's running for Congress, so he can make a difference in a way that doesn't have anything to do with violence.

He's in a deep in paperwork when she walks in, pantsuit ironed to perfection and a folder of papers he's sure are for him in her arms.

"Mr. Barnes," She smiles, and Bucky's never been more happy to see her. "I've brought some papers from Media, most of them about you smiling more. I told them you shouldn't lie before you've even gotten into office, but they refused to see how smiling could be this big of a problem. So clearly, they don't know you very well." Y/N Stark is a ray sunshine in Bucky's office, and he doesn't know how he got her.

SWORD agent Y/N Stark, adopted by Tony Stark after Nat saved her from the Black Widow program just before meeting Tony in 2008 while she was in Budapest, believing that Y/N had been the last of the Red Room. Y/N had been just 16, and Natasha wasn't in the greatest place to be a guardian. To be fair, neither was Tony, but at least she also had Pepper. Y/N changed her last name before she turned 18, since her parents had given her up as a baby and she didn't like her past defining her. Bucky had first met her when fighting at the airport in 2016, and after they went into hiding Bucky had talked Steve into sending Y/N a package just like Tony had gotten, and she had called. They began dating in secret, as she helped SHEILD rebuild itself as SWORD, and was granted entrance into Wakanda to visit him as he healed from the trigger words. They were finally getting back to where they had been before the snap, when Bucky had disappeared and Y/N had lived five years in grief.

But now Bucky was trying to figure out how to get her to retire and work with him, because he thinks a change might be exactly what he needs to make him feel better. The more he learns about politics, the more he doesn't know how to make the change he wants to.

"Well," Bucky leans back in his seat, stretching his back. He's been sitting all day, a harsh change from his life before, but he honestly likes it. It feels nice to not be conditioned to fight at every second, to be able to relax even just a little bit. "I hope you told them I'm not doing that." He says lowly, and his fiancé rolls her eyes with large grin.

"How did I end up with a hundred and three year old grump?" She asks, walking all the way in and dropping the papers on his desk. Bucky reaches up and pulls her into his lap, pushing her jacket back because he loves to see the leather vest she wears that holsters her gun over the white button up blouse.

"It's actually a hundred and ten." He says. He knows that she knows this, that she knows his actual birthday even if everyone likes to pretend that he wasn't frozen and used by HYDRA for years which makes him actually in his late thirties, maybe early forties.

"Ugh, old man." She says, but her smile is painted on, almost like the opposite of her.

"You love it." He leans his mouth up, and she leans down to give him a quick kiss. This isn't enough for him, and he leans back in to chase her lips.

"James, people actually work in this office. They don't want to see a couple macking in the middle of the day." She says as she gets off his lap, which makes Bucky upset.

"Macking?" He questions, because she's always using these words that he has no idea what they mean.

"Come on, grab your papers and let's go." She doesn't explain the word, instead holding out a hand that Bucky only grabs onto, not letting her pull him up and out of his seat.

"I can't leave yet." He wants to, he really does, but he has so much work to do. The election is coming up faster and faster, and he feels his opportunity to change things slipping through his fingers.

"James," She whispers, yanking on him to no avail. She frowns, and he wishes for a moment that he could just stop everything and go home with her.

"I can't lose." He tells her softly, and she just nods, even though she doesn't fully understand.

"Okay." She lets her hand slip out of his, and Bucky wishes that he could go back to those nights they spent in Wakanda. They were so unrushed, so calm. "I'll see you at home, then." She calls over her shoulder as she exits the room, a smile on her face even though he can hear the hurt in her voice.

"I'll bring dinner." He says, knowing that he always drives past her favorite restaurant. He needs to make it up to her, but she's shaking her head with her lips tight.

"I won't count on it. Maybe we can go out to dinner on the weekend." She says, and he nods in understanding. He's late to get home a lot, but this is important to him. Doing this without Steve, without Y/N's name or money, it's almost like he has to prove that he can make it in society.

"I love you," He says, and when she responds he turns back to his work. It's the last thing he wants to do, but he refuses Y/N's offers to get him a full team with a full New York office. He's going to do this on his own.

He can do this.

~

When Bucky loses the election, he wishes he could say that he saw it coming.

He knew about the people calling him unfit, knew about how a lot of people thought he was emotionally unstable despite his record of therapy. The people who never forgave him for his crimes, the ones that he was under mind control for, the ones he doesn't even remember committing. But for a second, he thought that they could look past that and see the good he was trying to do. Y/N calls as soon as the news is announced, but Bucky is already packing his shit up and leaving the the office.

When she gets home, his metal arm is disconnected from his body and hidden away somewhere. In his right hand, he has a stiff drink, and he's staring at the tv, on a low volume but playing the news.

"James," She whispers, slipping her shoes off and walking over to him. "I'm so sorry, babe." She tells him, walking onto his couch and folding a leg under her as she puts a hand on his shoulder.

"I wanted to do something." He says, eyes glassy. He doesn't even look at her, but he's not really looking at the TV anymore. "Ever since I fell off that train 1945, my life hasn't felt like my own. I haven't done anything to help anyone. All I've done is watch my own life pass before my eyes, watch the families of people I killed," A tear falls, and his face scrunches as tries to hold it in.

"You helped save the world." She says, not mentioning the fact that Bucky doesn't seem to think that she was a good thing. He's clearly in a dark place right now, and her bringing herself up isn't going to help anything. All these comments from people who have nothing better but to hid behind a screen have him slipping back to before he went to therapy, and Y/N hates this. "You saved those hostages when everything was going down with the Flagsmashers. You are a good man. You have done good things. You can't let these people who think they know your past get into your head."

"I just feel so helpless." He finally looks at her, and her heart breaks. "I saved the world, but did I really make a difference? I didn't sacrifice myself like your dad did. I can't lift Thor's hammer like Steve. I'm not Captain fucking America. I thought that maybe, just maybe, I could do this one thing. This one fucking small act. But my life doesn't change. I can't be the White Wolf, because I'm already the Winter Solider." His voice cracks, and Y/N pulls him into her arms. She wishes people could see Bucky Barnes the way she does, the way he loves, the way he cares.

"You would have made a great Congressman." She tells him honestly, pushing some of the long hair he's been growing out away from his face. "And I'm proud of you for trying. We'll find a way to get you to make a difference the way you want to. This wasn't your path, but that doesn't mean that you aren't destined for change." He smiles through his tears, and they share a chaste kiss before Y/N helps him to the shower.

~

Three weeks later, Y/N wishes she could say she was surprised when she sees Bucky standing in the middle of New York, staring at the Void that Y/N had been sent out to collect data on.

"James?" Y/N screams over the wind, and Bucky's eyes widen. Even if he didn't hear her voice, he would have known because she's the only one that calls him by his first name. She's done it since they met, and every time he asks why she just laughs and doesn't answer the question.

"Oh, fuck." He mutters, causing everyone to look over at him.

"What?" Alexi asks loudly, never one for subtlety.

"What on God's green earth do you think you're doing here?" She asks, walking up to Bucky. She feels the need to slap her fiancé, hit him with the new ring he got her, but she controls herself.

"Y/N," Bucky starts, turning around and looking at her. The metal arm is reattached, his tactical suit on. When she left his morning he was still asleep, but she did know that something was different lately. This problem they were having with a super human who had insanely terrifying void powers, and they had basically no information about them. She had been so busy that she didn't have time to figure out why Bucky was acting different; she naively assumed that he was healing after his loss. He walks closer to her, trying to keep their conversation private.

"I swear," She looks beyond mad, and Bucky knows everyone is watching them. "I have too many thoughts right now to fully articulate how I'm feeling." She tells him, and he knows he deserves this.

"I meant to tell you," He truly did, but he just never felt like there was enough time. This was conversation that required more tact than he thought he had at the moment. It's not that he was trying to lie to his fiancé, but he knew he wasn't actively telling the truth.

"Are you gonna introduce me to your new friends?" She asks sarcastically, waving at them all around Bucky's body. She recognizes Natasha's sister, Yelena, but that's about it. As she scans the rest of the group, however, she sees another face. "Oh, you've gotta be shitting me." She says, watching John realize that she's locked in on him.

"No, no, no, Y/N, please, just let me explain," He grabs her around the waist when she starts to march over to him, because while he would never underestimate her he also knows that John is a different person with the serum in him.

"John fucking Walker, James? Really?" She yells, loud over the quiet, deserted street.

"James?" Yelena repeats with a small smile, and Y/N turns her murderous glare to the ex-Black Widow.

"Who the fuck are you people?" She asks, letting Bucky turn so he's facing the team and on Y/N's side.

"We're the Thunderbolts!" A large Russian man in a red yells, smiling widely. Y/N blinks, then looks at Bucky.

"That's not our name." He says to her, as if that actually matters.

"Oh my God," She whispers, because she's not sure what's actually going on anymore.

"I am Yelena. We've heard a lot about you, Y/N Stark." Yelena says with a smirk, and Y/N forces a tight smile. She puts emphasis on the last name, because even though they only knew each other briefly, Y/N had met Yelena in the Red Room once or twice.

"Thanks for the introduction. As for the rest of you, except off brand stars and stripes over here, could you please tell me what this is?" She asks, because she figures her fiancé isn't going to tell her now.

"We're a team." A girl in a completely grey suit says.

"Like the Avengers!" The man in the red suit yells, and Y/N turns to Bucky.

"No." He disagrees, and she just nods, eyes closed. "I swear to you, Y/N, I have tried to tell you, but I didn't know if you'd understand. I just, I needed to do something." And she gets it. She knows that he's been having this issue, and she knows it had to have been hard for him to tell her.

"I'm still mad at you." She says with a sigh.

"I know." He smiles, putting a hand on her back and pulling her forward to kiss her forehead. "Now, you should get out of here. We can take care of this." He gestures to the giant Void that was looming in the distance.

"I have to do my job, James, I can't just,"

"You can join us!" Red suit says once more, and Bucky turns to glare at him before Y/N can say anything. She jumps in, not wanting to deal with the threat that is probably going to come out of Bucky's mouth.

"I have a job. But this seems like such a great group." She says sarcastically, aiming it at John, who scowls.

"I am not that bad." He argues, and Bucky has to grab her arm to ensure she won't jump him.

"I don't think anyone has lost a job faster than you fucked up being Captain America, you absolute shit stick." She tells him, which clearly strikes a nerve.

"You wanna talk about losing Captain America? Are we sure Bucky here was your first choice?" John has that smirk that Y/N wants to slap right off his face, but she's not sure he wouldn't kill me.

"Are you kidding me?" Yelena yells over them, and Y/N knows she should feel like a scolded child, but she just feels rage at John Walker. "There's a goddamn Void behind us that is eating people, and you two are fighting over the fact that he annoys you?" She looks at Y/N, who is somehow even more angry

"Yelena, I don't know if you're mad at me because N,-" Bucky is placing his right hand over her mouth, knowing exactly what Y/N was about to say and how she was going to single handedly take this team down. Everyone was very volatile, and he knew that the slightest thing could set them off.

"Please, just let me handle this? I'll see you at home." He is not above begging, and he knows he has to in order to get her home.

"I was sent here for a reason." She argues, because she's not gonna let her man stop her from doing her job.

"By the time you get what you need, we'll have taken care of this. So just go home,"

"Do not tell me-"

"Y/N, please." He finally looks at her with big eyes, and she is trying to hold her ground.

"This is my job, James. Ya know, the job that pays for our apartment." She's not mad anymore, because she knows Bucky just wants to protect her. But she won't back down without a fight.

"What if I pick up dinner?" He sweetens the pot, and she sighs.

"If you're late, Barnes," She threatens, leaning up to kiss him. He smiles at his win.

"I won't be." He has no way of knowing if he'll be late or not, they both know this, but it's the thought that counts. She gives him one more kiss and then walks away, listening to the conversation between the Thunderbolts.

"Who woulda thought Bucky had a sugar mommy." John says, and while Y/N can't see it, she hears Bucky's fist meet his face and Yelena's laugh.

"You deserved that." The Russian man says, and Y/N couldn't agree more. 

//

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[redrose10]

Hey, i’m fairly new to this so idk if I‘m doing this correctly but can I make a request for a story? Yoongi is quite shy with affection so how about an angst/fluff oneshot where the reader is very clingy and affectionate but he doesn’t play into it, because he’s shy and shows his love for them in a different way (acts of service, etc.) They’re together and reader feels hurt/grows distant, thinking they’re making him uncomfortable, but it has a fluffy ending. You can do what you want from this, but I just had that in mind for quite some time:)

Thanks for the request. I hope you like it!

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: Yoongi’s cheeks have magical healing powers, but you feel too guilty to use them.

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, panic attacks

*******************************************************

“Yeah I know they’re driving me crazy any more. They’re always touching me and grabbing me and pulling me in different directions. I think they squeezed my cheeks like twelve times in a span of ten minutes. I know….yeah I know…this was a mistake. I just wish they would back off a little you know. Sometimes I regret ever getting involved with them.”

That conversation you had accidentally overheard your boyfriend having with his brother on the phone haunted you for the last month. Overthinking every little movement became the new normal for you.

Yoongi would come home from work. Normally you would run and jump into his arms peppering kisses all over his cheeks. But as you replayed those moments in your head you realized he rarely ever kissed you back, you would hardly even call it a hug. It was more of a way to hold you there just so you didn’t end up dropping to the floor. So now when he came home you would simply greet him with a smile, maybe a light shoulder squeeze if he seemed in a particularly good mood.

While cooking dinner you always had your arms wrapped around his waist. Sometimes you would talk about your day. Most times you would just sway along to a melody he hummed. Now you were suddenly aware of how he’d flinch every time you snaked your arms around him. He’d stand tense until finally giving in and relaxing under your touch. Now he was standing at the stove tending to a steak so you focused on keeping up with the dishes and setting the table instead of holding him close.

Gone were the days of holding hands. There were no more goodbye kisses. No good morning kisses followed by jokes about your horrible morning breath. No massages, no cuddles, no running your fingers through his hair.

But every morning your coffee was made and your lunch was packed. At night when you got out of the shower your towel had been in the dryer and was neatly folded on the counter and still warm while your pajamas were laid out on the bed. Every Sunday there was a fresh bouquet of flowers on the kitchen table. One day you forgot your umbrella at home and of course it started pouring. The office secretary placed it on your desk saying Yoongi dropped it off in a rush so he couldn’t stay to talk, but he still got it there. When you texted Yoongi asking if there were any painkillers in the cabinet for your headache so you knew if you needed to stop on your way home he said there was a bottle. When you got home there was a cup of tea, the painkillers, and your favorite dinner waiting on the kitchen counter, a receipt for the medicine just purchased today was in the trash. But there was still something that didn’t feel quite right between the two of you.

The worst of it was always at night. For the last three years you had been together you had grown accustomed to falling asleep safe and warm and comfy in his arms. It all started a year into your relationship when one night you had a particularly bad panic attack. The first one he had witnessed. Softly he pulled you close against him whispering comforting words while stroking the top of your head. It was the fastest you had ever been able to recover from an attack. Over time the panic attacks slowly subsided. So that became your favorite way to fall asleep. You never really asked him. You just always managed to squeeze your way into his arms. Of course he never fought it. He wasn’t that type of person. Three weeks ago he mentioned getting the best sleep he had in a long time. That was the first night you had forced yourself not to crawl into his arms. You felt guilty for causing him so many restless nights of sleep before that.

Then tonight as you laid in bed facing the opposite way from him you couldn’t help but start to feel terrible about everything. You had been selfish. You knew from the start that Yoongi was not super affectionate in a physical sense. He didn’t mind a kiss here or there or some hand holding to help you get through a crowd, but you were definitely more into physical affection than he was. The more you thought about it you started to feel awful because you had been forcing it on him all these years. Thinking that since you were in a long term relationship that it was okay even if it wasn’t like him.

But it wasn’t okay and judging by the phone call with his brother he was getting tired of it..tired of you.

So you need to apologize…

But what if it’s too late…

What if he’s completely done with you…

He’s going to break up with you…

It’s all your fault…

He hates you…

You ruined this relationship…

The room felt like it was spinning and your heart was beating too fast. You couldn’t catch your breath and you could feel tears begin to fall. You tried to shake the thoughts, but they kept coming and getting more intense. This was normally the time you would snuggle in closer to Yoongi and he would reluctantly squeeze you tight and remind you of your breathing exercises. But he was fast asleep unaware of the turmoil you were going through. Not wanting to wake him you gently scooted out of the bed and headed for the kitchen. But once there it all became too much. You started crying and shaking, hyperventilating. The simple task of warming up some milk all of a sudden seemed like moving mountains. So instead you sat at the kitchen table trying to control your breathing. You focused on the cars driving by on the street below, counting them as they went as a way of distraction.

You were on only on your seventh car when Yoongi walked into the kitchen. His hair ruffled and tshirt loosely hanging off his shoulder. He flipped the switch on the wall and squinted at the bright lights. Silently he got to work warming up a cup of milk. Once it was the perfect temperature he poured it into your favorite mug. It had a picture of a cat playing the piano. It reminded you of Yoongi. You started to cry harder again.

He sat in the chair next to you without saying anything. He took your hands and placed them on his cheeks encouraging you to squish them like your own personal stress balls. One of the very few and very rare things he did to initiate physical touch between you two. He saved it for moments like this when he knew you were really struggling. You told him once that his cheeks had magical powers or something because they always brightened your day.

But for the first time you didn’t follow through on the action. You couldn’t. You cringed thinking about all the times you had made him uncomfortable by doing things like that.

“Y/N, talk to me. Please.”, he whispered setting your hands down, but not letting go.

“I’m sorry Yoongi. I’m so sorry for being selfish.”, you sniffled.

He chuckled, “I’m gonna need more of an explanation than that.”

Finally you looked up at him and you could see the tenderness in his eyes, but it was also mixed with fear.

“I’m sorry I’m so annoying. I’m sorry I’m always hanging on you and touching you and squishing your cheeks. I can change. Please give me a chance. Please don’t leave me.”, you cried.

“Y/N”, he sighed, “Is this…Is this why you’ve been so distant lately?”

You nodded feeling another round of tears forming.

Yoongi grabbed your hands pulling you onto his lap, something he’d never done before.

“Y/N, I’m not the most affectionate person. I never have be and even though I try I probably never will be. I prefer to show you how much I love you through words or by my actions. But I know that you are very much a touchy kind of person and that is okay. I love that about you. If I didn’t I wouldn’t have spent the last three years madly in love with you. I look forward to coming home and you running into my arms. Sometimes I’m not sure who is more excited to see me, you or Holly.”, he chuckled, “I love when we cook together and my favorite time is at night when you’re wrapped in my arms and I know that that you’re warm and comfy and safe. I don’t want any of that to change. I don’t want you to change Y/N. I love you just how you are and the last month has been killing me, but I knew you’d either work it out on your own or come to me when you were ready. I didn’t want to rush you.

It was too much to hold off any more and you wrapped your arms around his neck instantly melting into him.

“I’m so sorry Yoongi. I overheard you telling your brother how you were tired of me and you regretted getting together with me and I panicked, but I should’ve talked to you first instead of getting in my head.”

“What? Conversation with my brother? I never said anything about ooohhhhh.”, he said before his eyes widen at the realization. He helped you up and started dragging you to the bedroom, “Don’t worry about that. It will all make sense soon.”

Two weeks later it was your anniversary. You had just walked into the living room expecting to find Yoongi in the kitchen or maybe his studio after not hearing from him for the last few hours, but instead he was in the middle of the room surrounded by roses while down on one knee and with a slightly shaky hand he was holding open a small black velvet box. “Y/N, I love you more than I ever thought possible. I didn’t know love like this could even really exist. I want this forever and ever and ever. I want all the kisses and hugs and affection from you. Will you marry me?”, he asked. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”, you exclaimed bouncing up and down before pulling him up off of the floor and into a kiss. He slipped the ring on your finger watching you admire the sparkle.

“Do you like it?”, he asked and you nodded, “Of course! It’s gorgeous.”

“Good because uh this was what I was talking to my brother about that day.” You looked up at him confused. He continued, “A few months ago I asked my mom for help picking out a ring. She got really excited and wanted to make sure you got the perfect one you deserved so she took me to every single jewelry store she could find and was constantly grabbing me and pulling me to look at different rings. Then she got my Aunt involved and then they got your mom to come along and then your Aunt was there and then they asked your best friend. Next thing I knew I had a whole group of people grabbing me and dragging me all over the stores. One saying look at this one. Then another one saying no get this one. My mom kept squishing my cheeks asking if I was planning to look like a boiled dumpling on my wedding day. It was a lot.”, he sighed, “So that day on the phone I was complaining to my brother about it. He gave me the number to his jeweler and I just bought the ring that way. I couldn’t go to one more store with them. I know they meant well, but I was going to loose it if my cheeks got squished one more time in the middle of a mall somewhere.”

The relief you felt was immense.

“Yeah, but your dumpling cheeks are just so cute though.”, you giggled already happily squishing them together. He feigned annoyance, but when you tried to pull away he quickly grabbed your hands placing them back on his cheeks so you could continue.

“This is the life you’ve chosen.”, you laughed pointing at the ring on your finger.

His smile grew, “Yep, these cheeks are yours forever and ever babe.”

[libraford]

Okay!

So plastics! I took a deep dive into recycling HDPE plastics this winter because my seasonal job at the parks ended and because I knew there wasn't going to be much that I could do while I was recovering from surgery.

I'm going to talk about the process a little bit. Its not really a tutorial so much as it is just showing you the thing. The steps are uncomplicated, but they can be time consuming and there are MANY, with a high rate of failure. The good thing about the failure rate is that if you screw something up you can just melt it back down and try again.

I have been jokingly calling the processed material Amirite because once you melt it down enough times it looks like an agate. I made a separate blog about it: @adventures-in-amirite

But this process actually starts WAY back in June. As a parks person, one of our main annoyances is the amount of bottles (water, gatorade, powerade, PRIME, BodyArmor... whatever the Big American Energy Drink is right now) that get left overnight on weekends from people playing sports in our fields. 178 trash public trash cans in the city and they just leave them on the fucking ground.

When something unavoidable annoys me, I make it into a game. I learned that bottle caps are made from HDPE and LDPE plastics, which can be melted over and over again with household heating implements. So I started collecting them!

And I collected well over 300 caps over the summer. When I say it was a PROBLEM.

My seasonal job ended, which freed up a lot of time for me to experiment.

First thing I had to do was clean them.

Soak it in a mix of white vinegar and water or soap and water. Rinse, use a pressure setting on your faucet if you have one. Then let dry.

The next step is to sort all the caps into similar colors. After they're sorted, I melt all the similar colors together into a flat sheet using a panini press and parchment paper. My goal is to get the material thin enough to put it through a guitar pick punch. I like the shape of guitar picks.

I am doing it this way because this means that I can have usable thin blanks of pure color.

Any scraps smaller than the guitar pick are cut up and sorted by color into 'frit,' which is a word I'm stealing from glassworking.

Now here is where it gets fun.

I pick some colors I want to work with in both frit and guitar pick blanks and I throw them on the press to melt them together into a big multicolored slab.

Let it cool.

Here's the high failure rate part.

I put down a silicone mold. I put the colored slab on top. I put parchment paper on top. I put it in the press. I let it melt.

I try to flatten it as much as possible to fit the mold. Use a bottle, a rolling pin, a spatula.

I still get bubbles and voids when I demold. I've decided to embrace that and use rub n buff to make fill the voids with metallic colors. Still working through the kinks in the process, but I think these look cool enough.

All the scraps go back into the bin to be re-processed. It makes a kind of agate texture that's really cool, and that's what I used in that last photo.

Anyways! Applications are limited but I'm having fun experimenting with it. Hoping to approach some shops about it and sell a few, maybe do some shows this summer.

Anyways, that's how my post-op has been going.

[narcjsistx]

❝ 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍, 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒! ❞ smau school au, reo mikage x fem reader, in which... reo mikage, loved by everyone in the school which he proudly manages thanks to his role as president of the student council, finds himself having to chase the school delinquent, the well known y/n. but when both are seen by the vice president of the council, kagaya surimani, in a strange situation... well, the school will start talking about it, a lot

PART FOUR ; masterlist for all the parts!

You close the door behind you with a loud thud, finally breathing a sigh of relief. When you look up, Reo's face is already there, glaring at you

“I wonder why I'm doing this” he says defeated, running a hand through his hair. You approach his desk, smiling victoriously "I don't know, President. But here I am" you say, clapping your hands, and he glares at you for a few more seconds before looking down, more focused on the papers on his desk "What are this?" you ask taking one, but he immediately takes it back “Didn't you say you'd be quiet?” he says a little nervously, but you shrug "I promised to stay quiet, not that I would stay still"

"The papers are for the festival. I'm starting to see how many hypothetical participants could be" he says a few minutes later, while you are lying on the sofa in his office. You sit up, walking back to his desk "Cool! Let's set off the fireworks!" you say throwing a pencil in the air, which you catch quickly. He relaxes his muscles, his gaze still fixed on the papers "They're already there. The principal has to order them, but they're on the list" he says giving you a small list, a paper that you can obviously read since he keeps others under his vision in an almost obsessive way, as if his life depended on them. The list has a lot of interesting things, things that if you stole together with Shidou and Charles would be even more fun: but saying it in front of Reo doesn't seem appropriate to you, at least now

"I was thinking... why the others members can't come in here?" you ask, placing the list on the desk, and Reo looks up for only a few seconds "It's a principal's rule. The office is mine, but only Kagaya and Nagi can enter it since they are my advisors" he says, but it seems like such a silly rule to you "It's stupid. I shouldn't be here either" you say raising an eyebrow, almost in a challenging tone "I know perfectly well. But now they told me that I'm the one who has to monitor you during your school hours. And if that means you staying here for a few hours, that's fine" he says in a more serious tone, but it's his seriousness that makes you laugh "When you talk seriously your eyebrows furrow" you say resting your elbows on the desk, your head resting on the back of your hand "Our president is so adored" you say teasing him, and he glares back at you "I can still kick you out of here" he says seriously, and seeing his eyebrows furrow again makes you think he's such a cutie

"It's a too harsh punishment for something so stupid. I paid you a compliment!" you say pointing at him, and he moves his chair back, leaving a little space between his body and the desk "Are you sure? And what could be a punishable gesture?" he asks tilting his head, perhaps a little exhausted by your behavior

You have an idea, one that Shidou advised you to do with a boy who didn't want to give you an umbrella while it was raining a few days ago. It's a bit risky, but in the end you did worse

You walk towards him, letting the space between his body and the desk be filled by your body, now with you on his lap "This. What do you think?"

Reo quickly processes the gesture, looking up only to be inches away from your smirking face as you hold yourself tightly with your hands on his shoulders "Are you crazy?" he asks stammering, his hands shaking and not knowing where to put themselves. You giggle, swaying a little "They've called me that a few times. But I don't particularly like it" you say, but because of your swinging you risk falling. You're about to fall out of the chair and his lap when his hands hold your hips, keeping you from falling, pushing you against him due to the drive to keep you up

You jump from the gesture, finding yourself practically with your face pressed against his chest, which you feel beating at impossible levels

But that's when the door opens, the soft click coming loud and clear to your ears. And his soft hands are still on you, tight and trembling

“Reo, I was wondering if for the festival you had-” says a voice you recognize, but it stops immediately: you look up only to notice Kagaya standing in the middle of the room, staring blankly and confusedly straight at you. And behind her the door, left open, gives some students the opportunity to peek in

You're definitely screwed this time.

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