#i’m just gonna reblog this image every time i see some people saying some stupid shit so i can rant into the void

[seddair]

[shurisneakers]

harmless (ix)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, sex jokes, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, anxiety

Word count: 3.9k

A/N: a lot of requests came in last week, so cool and thank you for sending them in!! i’ll try my best to write them if they weren’t originally what i had planned for this series bc they’re so cute kfjdghdf. also hey shoutout to @i-reblog-fics-i-like​ for suggesting the backstory thing! 

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

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Somehow it bypasses Bucky’s spam folder and is in his primary email. SHIELD tech is too advanced to let fake mails like this reach him and this doesn’t make sense. Unless it was one of the stupid dating websites he signed up for.

Leaving aside the obvious typo in the subject, he clicks on it, hoping it doesn’t unleash a virus onto his computer. 

He’s instead greeted with a poorly Photoshopped picture of you at a bar with a martini in your hand. He doesn’t have to look too hard to see that the martini is, in fact, an emoji. Off to a terrible start already. 

Right beside it is an even worse image, an imitation of an early Internet chat box.

Harbinger of Doom just sent you a message! 

Come to the empty lot near lair. Bring goggles. 😩💦

Decline/Accept

He wants to strangle you. 

______

“Why did you curse my eyes so early in the morning?” He spots you at the top of the lair, speaking loudly so that it hopefully reached you. 

“What?” you yell back down instead. “If you’re saying something, I can’t hear you.”

He rolls his eyes. He pulls his phone from his pocket and presses on your contact. 

He watches the look of confusion morph into one of slight surprise when you reach into your pocket and pull out your call.

“Don’t ever send an image like that to me again,” he says directly.

“If that one image is too much for you, how will we ever make our sex tape?”

His mouth opens and shuts like goddamn fish.

He can hear your laughter even without the phone.

“First of all- stop laughing- first of all, a sex tape is never going to happen. Second of all, I have a debriefing to go to, we need to make this quick.”

He holds up a finger when he sees you begin to say something. By the look of trouble painted all over your face, he knows it’s going to be a dumb innuendo. 

“Thirdly, why are you standing there?”

“I watched The Last Airbender,” you say once your cackling dies down.

“I like that show.” He did. Peter sometimes watched it when he came over and Bucky more often than not joined in.

“I know, you told me.”

Oh. 

“Okay, what now?” 

“Put your goggles on.” You take one step towards the ledge. 

“What are you doing?” The goggles don’t do anything to shield him from the sun, considering that they’re not tinted. Maybe he could invest in those.

You send him a smile, taking a step further. His walk towards the building turns into a jog, then a sprint when you’re basically standing on the edge.

You spread your arms out like Jesus Christ himself before flinging yourself off the building. His stomach drops.

His phone falls to the ground, discarded to the side as he sprints to break your landing. 

It never comes. 

Instead, a gust of wind smacks him in the face, forcing him a few steps backwards. 

“I am now an air bender.” your eyes shone. “Kind of.”

Just like that, the show was ruined.

He wipes the dust on from his glasses that he now understands why you made him wear. Considerate, for a person who nearly just gave him a heart attack. 

“Why.” It’s not even a question, just a statement. 

“You know how the Tower has a giant ‘A’ on the side?” 

He stares at you. 

“I‘m gonna spray paint ‘asshole’ on the side of it.”

Pepper would not like that. 

“That’s not even evil.”

“Yeah, but it’d annoy your super friends,” You do a flip midair, testing out the repulsors that were tied around your palms, “and I’m the voice of the people.”

You’re too high for him to reach. He doesn’t have his tools, or anything useful on him considering that he never had to use them before. He couldn’t even launch himself at you from the side of the building because you’d just move out of the way. He could jump really high but it would just have the same consequence.

He could talk and keep you distracted but that worked once, it wouldn’t again. At least not for long. 

Fuck, he really had only one option. 

He leaves you to do your somersaults and turns, walking over to where he dropped his phone. It’s an upgrade from the brick he was using a while ago, but not a high end Stark model. A smartphone, but barely.

He sighs, punching in the number and holding it up to his ear.

“Who are you calling?” you yell from above him. 

“Go back to your shitty aerobics,” he yells back.

You pause for a second. “Was that a fucking pun, James Bar-”

The dial tone ends when someone picks up. He diverts his attention back to the call.

“Hey man, I-

“No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish.”

“It’s probably something stupid,” Sam doesn’t even sound annoyed, just uninterested.

“I need your wings.”

“I was right. Bye.”

It was a long shot anyway.

“Fuckin’ hold on a second.” He sees you disintegrate a concrete block by having it drop from the air. “You come here and fix this, then. She’s air bending now.”

“...like Avatar?” Sam unsurprisingly got the reference. 

Peter’s interests were usually shared by everyone in the Tower, just because they had to compensate for the teasing he had to endure. It led to a lot of geeky documentaries and occasional musicals. Bucky wouldn’t be caught dead humming songs from Thoroughly Modern Millie under his breath. 

“Yeah.”

“You want me to come and fight your girlfriend,” he says slowly. 

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Bucky urges, “and yes, I need help. Can’t exactly reach her when she’s twenty feet above me.”

“We have a briefing in 30 minutes. Why did you even go there today?”

He doesn’t know how to answer that. Just looks up at you smacking one of the repulsors against your thigh when it sputters for a second. It’s tradition. 

“Well?” Bucky ignores his question.

“Fine,” Sam’s voice is distant for a second as he agrees. “Clint’s asking if he can come too.”

“Fuck no.” One of them was more than enough and Sam was way better at negotiation. 

He hears a faint profanity from who he assumed was Clint before the call cuts.

He takes a seat on the ground and waits.

“You’re not going to make any effort to stop me?” You have your arms pressed to your side, palms pointed downwards to keep you afloat.

 “I could just throw things at you again.” He makes a mention towards the small pebbles.

“I will fuck you up if you even try,” you warn. He lifts his arms in surrender. “So that’s it. You’re just going to sit there.”

“To be honest, I couldn’t care less if you painted the building,” he says with the least amount of interest he could muster, not that that was very hard.

“Do you not like your team?” 

“I do.” He isn’t lying. “But they’re little shits.”

“I can draw a couple of dicks on their window, no problem,” you say offhandedly.

He looks up at you through his fingers. “That won’t be required.”

Although it was appreciated. 

“Cool, so then I’m gonna go.” You make a mention of the utility belt on your waist. He looks at the many spray cans that decorate it. 

“What colour are you going with?” he interrupts quickly. Fuckin’ Sam. What was the point of wings if he couldn’t get here in 2 minutes?

“Red, probably.” You look down. “I got purple and white just in case.”

“Building’s dark, red is good.”

“You really don’t care, do you?” You lower yourself down to the ground, a few feet ahead of him. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” For fucks’ sake, Sam. “You really don’t like superheroes, do you?”

“I don’t have anything against them.”

“Then why do you do this every week?”

This was wading into personal territory and he did not like it. 

“Well.” Your eyebrows knit together. “Because I want to. It’s fun.”

“No other reason?”

“Do I need to have another reason?” You push your palm downwards, sending you back up into the air. “Can’t I just be evil because I want to?”

“Sure,” he says. He’s heard worse reasons. “Why not?”

“Besides, if you think I don’t like superheroes then you should meet Jake.”

“Who’s Jake?” He hadn’t ever heard you mention him before because he’d remember if you had.

“My roommate.” 

“I didn’t see him when I came over.”

“That’s because we’re not conjoined at the hip.” It takes you a second to stabilise. “Besides, he grabbed the water while I got the bracelet but he refused to come say hi.”

Bucky looked down at his wrist. It was still there. He found himself fidgeting with it more often than not.

“He hates superheroes?”

“He has a valid reason.” Your eyes widen in worry when your head suddenly dips. 

“What is it?” He knows the height at which you’re at isn’t very dangerous but if need be, he’s close by. 

“Come find out.” Your eyes shone mischievously. “But yeah, no reason for me to be evil.”

“Not even a tragic backstory?” 

“None. But if you want it, I can give you one, Barnes.” You test the waters, seeing how long you can lie horizontally. “Can’t promise you’ll like it though.”

“Try me.” He has time to kill. He’s a good listener.

“Well, it all started with my family- a troop of gorillas.” You flip over to lie on your back. “They practically raised me, they did. Until my gorilla mother died and I was all but consumed by grief and-”

“Your mother was a gorilla?” He entertains the notion. 

“Or was it my father?” you ask thoughtfully. “I don’t know, I don’t remember. Anyway, I met a-”

“Just to clarify, none of this is real, right?” he interjects. 

You stare at him. He stares at you.

“Bucky, that’s the plot of Tarzan,” you say slowly, “or at least whatever I remember of it... which I’m beginning to realise isn’t much.”

“Just clarifying.” He leans back again.

“Anyway so then when my mother, the deer-”

“Gorilla.”

“Whatever. Was killed, I escaped to some place-”

“Where?”

“Somewhere. And I stayed with these seven men-”

“Why seven?” He actually remembers watching this movie with his sister when it came out. An early memory, a bit faded. He remembers how long he saved up for the ticket.

“Because character development. And then I realised the reason my life was so weird was because there was a rat controlling me by pulling on my hair-”

“What the fuc-”

“If you ask any more questions, I’m going to stop.”

Bucky blinks at you. “So that’s your backstory.” 

“Raw and uncut, baby.”

“Just to get this straight, your mother, the gorilla deer-”

“Witch.”

“Huh?”

“She was a witch who stole my hair.”

“Wha-”

He’s interrupted by the giant shadow cast by something that flies overhead. 

Fucking finally. 

He doesn’t even have to look up. Sam does a small glide to the ground, landing gracefully beside him.

Bucky finds you speechless but straightened up from your earlier posture.

“Buck,” Sam greets him.

“Sam,” he says in return, getting up from his place. 

A grin spreads across your face. “Mr. Sam Wilson. No way.”

“You’re Y/N, I’m assuming?” Sam offers, posture relaxed. He clearly wasn’t here to fight. 

“The one and only.” You tear your eyes away from Sam to glare at Bucky. “Barnes, if you had told me we were expecting guests, I would have dressed better.”

Bucky furrows his eyebrows in suspicion at you. You’d dress up for Sam. 

You dressed up like a suburban tourist dad for him. He was feeling the offence incoming. 

“Can’t count on him to be useful in any situation.” Alright, he did not call Sam just to have the both of you team up against him. 

“Normally I’d agree with you but he did just invite you here, so...” you trail off, looking at Sam expectantly. 

What the shit.

Sam smirks. Bucky switches rapidly back and forth between the both of you.

“I see why Buck keeps coming back every week.” It doesn’t take long for him to catch on, enlisting a feeling of triumph from you. 

“I can’t see why he doesn’t just stay at home everyday if this is the view.” You gesture to him.

This is not what Bucky wanted.

“Okay,” Bucky interrupts, “what is going on here?”

“Pure chemistry, I’d say.” You’re half tempted to bite your lip to seal the deal.

“I agree.” Sam just nods, completely and utterly serious. 

You think that you’ll give him a gift basket just for playing along despite meeting you for the first time at that moment. 

“Get a room.” Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Maybe we will.” You tap your finger against your lip in thought. “How do you feel about Indian food, Sam?”

“Very positively.” 

Bucky grits his teeth. “If you’re not planning to spray paint the Tower, can you just hand over the repulsers so we can go home for the day?”

You let out a small tsk in disapproval. “See what I have to deal with?”

“Can’t imagine how you do it every weekend,” Sam says dryly, not wasting a second in replying. 

“Hello?” Bucky waves his arm around. “She’s the villain here.”

“Your face is the villain here.” You tear your eyes away from Sam only to glare at him. “He won’t even wear a cape. Why am I the only one who brings their A-Game every week?”

“Sam just get the damn-”

“You should wear a cape, man.” Bucky’s absolutely sure that even Sam knows it’s a ridiculous idea.

“I’m not wearing a fuckin’ cape,” he grumbles. 

“What are your thoughts on swords, then?” Your finger finds a place under your chin in deep contemplation. “You’d look great with a sword.”

Bucky buries his face in his palms. “Sam, for the love of God.” 

“Okay, alright.” Sam finally gives in with a small chuckle. He runs a few steps to get a small head start before launching himself into the air, whizzing past your levitating figure. He does a neat little flip midair before matching your height.

Showoff.

“How difficult are you gonna make this, Wilson?” you ask, a smirk on your face.

“Jesus Christ.” Bucky exhales, looking at the both of you through his goggles. 

“What’s your play here?” Sam calls out loudly.

“Was gonna spray paint ‘asshole’ on the side of the Tower.”

“After the ‘A’?”

“After the ‘A’,” you confirm. 

“Now that’s too small,” Sam tutted. “You gotta think bigger. Paint the whole Tower.” 

“Sam!” Bucky looks horrified. 

“Hmm.” You look like you’re considering it. “Don’t have enough paint for that though.”

“You’re an evil genius, right?” Sam casts a small glance at Bucky. “At least that’s what he tells me.”

“You talk about me?” You grin at the disgruntled man on the ground. 

“I don’t,” he mutters, shaking his head. A lie.

“Yeah, so build something,” Sam points out. “Get some more paint. I’ll even tell you the best vantage points to spill it.”

“No, he won’t,” Bucky shouts from below. 

“He’s just cranky because he didn’t get his prune juice this morning, ignore him,” Sam dismisses him.

Prune juice? He was a young 100, not ancient. 

“What’s your favourite colour, Falcon?”

“I like red.”

As annoyed as Bucky is right now, he stores that away in his memory for later. He also knows Sam loves seafood and a good pair of shoes. 

“A couple of gallons of red paint it is, then.” You lower yourself to the ground, Sam slowly follows suit until he lands beside Bucky.

“You know we can’t let you go without taking those, right?” Bucky tilts his head towards your invention.

You narrow your eyes at him. He doesn’t budge.

“I’ll tell ya what,” Sam pipes in instead. “I’ll keep them until you finish getting the paint and once you’re done, we’ll make an evening out of vandalising the Tower.” 

Bucky may not enjoy his company all that much but he admires Sam’s diplomacy. Of course, you would never make it this easy while reasoning with him.

“That a promise, Mr. Wilson?” You raise your eyebrow at him questioningly but are already in the process of removing the things from your hand. 

“Wouldn’t ever lie to you, doll.” He holds up his hand in a mock swear.

You walk towards Bucky and him, rotating your wrists to get rid of the soreness. “Bold claim for a man who met me ten minutes ago.”

“Feels like it’s been longer.” He sends you a wink and you can’t stop the laugh the escapes from you finally. 

Bucky holds his hand out for the gadgets. You shrink away from him with a click of your tongue.

“Technically, he takes this round.” You send a nod towards Sam, dropping off the repulsors into his hand. “So he gets it.”

Bucky rolls his eyes.

“You gonna keep ‘em safe?” you ask Sam, this time a little more earnestly. 

“Guard it with my life,” he says seriously, pressing his lips together in a line to avoid smiling. 

“You’re both ridiculous,” Bucky cuts in.

“You’re going to be late.” Sam tucks the devices into his pocket safely. “You know how Steve gets when people walk in on his speeches. Do you even have a ride?”

“Got the motorcycle.” 

“See you there.” Sam nods. 

“Save me a place,” Bucky says to him.

“No.” He doesn’t even hesitate. “Y/N. It was a pleasure.”

“Still holding you to that evening, Sam.” You send him a smile.

“I’m countin’ on it.” He gives you a small three finger salute before taking off, leaving you staring after his retracting figure. 

When the dust settles, Bucky awkwardly clears his throat. “Right. So that was that.”

“Dude,” you let out an exhale. “he’s so hot.”

He murmurs something unintelligible. It vaguely sounds like a series of threats but mostly a list of complaints.

“Don’t you have a meeting to get to?” You turn your attention back to him.

“Yeah.”

“Aren’t you going to be late?” You glance at the clock on your phone.

“I’ll just tell them I was on a mission.” Well, sort of. “Besides, what are they gonna do? Kick me out?”

“Fair enough.” You shrug. “Have a safe ride back.”

From what he knows of you and Sam, the both of you were kidding around. But he could never be too sure. He can’t even ask if you were serious about the entire thing because it’s none of his business. 

Were the implications of having his mortal nemesis and other mortal nemesis date important enough to overrule that? 

“Are you planning to skip your meeting, or?” you ask when he remains freezes in his spot, eyes glazed over like he’s thinking about something. “Because if you are, I know this great Thai place-”

“Don’t do that again,” he says instead, shaking his head to jolt him out of his thoughts. 

“What?”

“Flinging yourself off roofs like that.”

“Why?” Because it scared the hell out of him, for one.

“Just don’t.”

“Oh please, like you’ve never done dangerous shit like that before.” You narrow your eyes at him, reading his face. “Are you telling me you care about me?”

“No.” His nose twitches. “Just don’t throw yourself off buildings when I’m around.”

“What about when you’re not?”

“As long as I’m not there to witness it.” He shrugs, spinning on his heel to leave. Technically he preferred if you didn’t do things like that at all. 

“Fine. I’ll just have my clone try out all the dangerous stuff for me.”

 He stops in his tracks. “You have a clone?”

“Well,” You squint, “no. But I’m working on it.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “Bye Y/N.”

“You know, it sounds an awful lot like you’re saying we’re friends.” Your whole demeanour changes and he already knows what’s coming.

“I never said that,” he argues vehemently. “All I said was that I can’t have your murder on my hands.”

“Thus implying that we’re friends. In a fucked up, enemies kind of way.” You positively beam at him. “Aw, Barnes, that’s adorable.”

Adorable? Adorable?

“I hate you.”

“I love you, too, bestie,” you gush, dumb grin on your face. “I’ll make us friendship rings next time. What are your thoughts on matching tattoos?”

He wants to cry. 

______

By the time Sam walks into the meeting room, the session’s already begun. He shoots an apologetic look to a monologuing Steve before taking his place at the nearest chair available. 

Something sharp pokes his thigh. His wings are off and in the backpack beside him, but then he remembers your little inventions that were still in his pocket.

He tries not to make much of a noise while he pulls them out, giving them a look over to make sure they’re not broken.

“Watcha got there, Big Bird?” Tony asks lowly from beside him.

“Something that Barnes’ enemy made.” Sam holds it up slightly. 

“The one he’s been rendezvousing around town with every weekend?” 

“That’s her.” He’s about to put it in his backpack when Tony stops him.

“Pass that here for a second.” He recognises it immediately for what it is, interest piqued. 

Sam hands one of them over while he puts the other back in the bag. It’s a metallic circle, not bigger than Tony’s palm, with a thick leather strap to tie it around your palm.

“She made this?” 

“Why don’t you ask him?” Sam mentions towards Bucky who silently slips into the conference room, standing in the corner near the potted plant since there were no more chairs left.

“The balance has gotta be off on this thing,” he mutters to himself, wholly ignoring the brooding man standing in the corner like a Christmas tree.

“She seemed to be manoeuvring it fine,” Sam catches the eye of a lower ranking agent who makes the mistake of glaring at him for talking while the meeting was going on. A few seconds later the agent hastily looks away and doesn’t turn around for the rest of the hour. 

“Could be better.” He uses a much more intricate model for his suits, although this isn’t even half-bad for a homemade version. “Do you know how long she took to make this?”

“Buck says she comes up with a new one every week, so I’m guessing that long.” 

It had a few glitches but it was incredibly refined for a week’s worth of work.

“Interesting.” He gives it a quick overlook before handing it back to Sam who drops it into the bag.

He casts a swift glance at Bucky, noting how he wasn’t even paying attention to the meeting but rather to whatever he had tied around his metal wrist, fidgeting with it with his thumb. 

Tony has an idea. 

And that was generally bad news.

Next part

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

She [5]

Warnings: non-consent sex (series)

This is dark! Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Series Synopsis: Steve Rogers’ life is turned upside down by a reporter.

Chapter Summary: The reader tries to change her course.

Note: I’m hoping to work on some other fics today and a reminder that I have a new challenge for dark!writers. 

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Reader

The next day you felt more enlivened but no more detached from the mess you’d created. You ducked the hounding press outside your building and ignored the exaggerated speculation about Steve Rogers; about you. Either he was the villain and you were the innocent lamb, or he was the respectable hero targeted by the shrewish report. Either way, they were wrong. You were both just human.

You went to the office and settled into your new desk. Your goal was a sense of normalcy. You just wanted to be the nameless writer again. You needed something other than Steve Rogers. You needed a story of your own.

You opened your browser and went about scrolling through the digital newspapers and headlines of Google. You inhaled the scent of your coffee as you impatiently flicked the mouse wheel.

It wasn’t news to say there was crime in New York you mused at the Times’ small tenth-page blurb. You paused and re-read it; ‘String of Assaults Against Sex Workers Continues.’  It was no Jack the Ripper, sure, but it might be enough. There could be something there.

You needed a pitch by the end of next week if you wanted to keep up. Poppy’s tapping nails sounded in the back of your head and you sent a screen cap of the article to your phone. You clicked onto past issues and traced the story back almost three months. The first report had been almost half a page and featured the image of a particularly sinister streetlight. It was a start.

You continued your search for the hook to catch onto. Anywhere you could start. The red light district would be a start, the attacks seemed to centre around a certain street within it. You filled a folder with reports from various sources; all so distanced and apathetic. Just numbers.

You left in the afternoon. You took your new pile of distraction and headed back to your apartment. When the windows began to darken, you ordered ramen and ate at the coffee table as you sorted through the clutter. The tabletop was covered in clippings and your own notes alongside your open laptop glaring back at you.

You woke on the couch and continued in your narrowed search. You grew more and more anxious as you did. You needed to get your own look at the seedy nightlife but how? You didn’t exactly blend in and you doubted these women were eager to spend their time with some nosy reporter.

Well, you had to at least try. You found yourself watching the clock as you paced around with papers in hand. You stopped to scribble down notes every now and then. Tick, tick, tick.

You were too nervous to eat. You pulled on jeans and a faded plaid shirt. You dug out your old tennis shoes and checked yourself in the mirror. Well, you didn’t look like the stuffy journalist without a clue but you barely looked like you knew what you were doing. You slung the strap of your small purse across your chest and headed out.

It was dark by the time you stepped off the train. You could feel the nerves bouncing around your chest. You kept to the shadows, watching, afraid. 

You watched a woman, not so obvious, approach a car. She wasn’t your typical Law and Order prostitute. Sure, her jeans were tight and her jacket a little short but she looked like any other woman in New York. She got in a dark car and it pulled away. It drove down the street and turned into a lot and your imagination tied it all together.

Several other women went about their transactions. You were shaken as a car honked at you and you waved the man away from the curb, careful to step clear of the glow of the streetlight. The first woman appeared again, her chunky heels echoed on the pavement as she began to her vigil again; a casual strut up and down the pavement.

You continued your observation and added notes in your phone. You edged closer without thinking as the illicit marketplace began to bustle. That same woman, the first you’d spied, surprised you as she stopped you from getting any further. She was tall and slender, her hair carefully bundled atop her head.

“New meat?” She wondered as she leaned against the edge of the storefront. You blanched at her and stepped back. “No, no, definitely not.”

“Uh, sorry,” You said softly. “I was just…” You hid your phone in your sleeve.

“Watching? Getting your thrills?” She chuckled. “Sweet little thing like you.”

You looked down, embarrassed.

“It’s okay. You think we don’t get all sorts.” She crossed her arms. “I can’t charge you for watching but maybe you were looking for more.”

“I’m not-- How much for an hour?” You perked up. 

“Depends what you want.” She said coolly.

“A hundred?” You offered.

“Just out here?” She wondered. 

“No, I…” You glanced around. A shining neon sign caught your eye from down the street. “A drink. I’ll pay. Plus your rate.”

“Lonely.” She mused. “Hiding?”

“Deal?” You ignored her implication.

“A hundred and a drink? I’ve done worse,” She replied.

🖋️

The bar smelled of stale alcohol and piss. The pungent odor drifted from the dingy bathrooms and filled the place. You sat across from the woman at a small round table away from the bar. She ordered Jack Daniels and you had a water. She warned you not to drink it. You didn’t.

“So, honey, what are we thinking?” She leaned on the table.

“I don’t-- I just want to talk.” You said.

“Talk? Mmm, oh you’re one of those.” She purred.

You pulled out your laminated name badge from your purse and slapped it down between you.

“I’m a reporter for Motley Magazine.” You said. “I really just want to talk.”

She sat up straight and her expression turned stringent. She looked around and shook her head. 

“I can’t--”

“Please, just a conversation.” You interrupted. 

“No, I could get in a lot of shit.” She hissed as she grabbed her fringed purse.

“Wait, I’ll pay double. No names, nothing that could give you away,” You stood as she did. “You say ‘stop’, we stop.”

She looked at you and inhaled. She chewed her lip and picked at the wood of the table. She sat slowly.

“One hundred now,” She said. You nodded. 

“If I hit the atm over there, you still gonna be here?” You asked.

“Sure.” She took a gulp of her drink.

You went to the corner, the atm screen was cracked but still operational. You stood as close to it as you could as you slid your card in. You were careful to hide your withdrawal as you crumpled your receipt and neared the table. You sat and subtly offered the folded bills to her.

She counted it and shoved it away. She crossed her legs and leaned into the wall as if to hide herself.

“So…” She began.

You introduced yourself and she reluctantly gave you her name as you assured her it would not be included in whatever came of your conversation. Her name was Rashida but her clients knew her as Ruby. She shifted as the bar door opened and glanced over her shoulder.

“I want to know about these assaults. More than that,” You kept your voice low as she leaned in. “I want to know everything.”

“Everything?” She blinked.

“I’ve been tracking these attacks through the papers. It’s just numbers; faceless women, some men. Relegated to the back sheets.” You explained. 

“For what?” She asked. “To make yourself a name?”

“No, not at all. I want you to be known. All of you. If people can contextualise the faceless, they can empathise, and that means they’ll talk.” You said. “I’m not stupid. The police, they don’t care about you, but they will care about those Upper East Siders who think they’re on some sort of crusade.”

She narrowed her eyes and shrugged. “I don’t know… much. I know Selene got it bad but haven’t seen her much since.”

“I don’t expect you to know everything, I just wanna know what you do know.” You said. “So start with Selene. Were you out that night?”

“Yeah. She wasn’t far from me, we’d talked a little. She was… excited. She had almost saved enough to get her girl into dance. She just needed a few more johns and she’d have it. It was a usual night, guys came and went, nothing out of the ordinary.”

“So when was she attacked?”

“Well, I was on a job and I got back and she was gone. I assumed she’d found her own but I never saw her again that night. I saw the article but didn’t know it was her until a few nights later. Stitches,” She traced from her forehead to her chin. “Works not so good for her now.”

“You know anyone else?” You probed.

“A few girls I see around but me and Selene, we got daughters. We try to take care of each other. Try.” She shook her head. “I… I don’t know.”

“The other girls?”

“Some of them haven’t come back after. Maybe they’re too afraid. Those who have, same thing. Sliced,” She repeated the motion down her face. “So we try to keep track of the weirdos and each other. Some girls are partnering up. One goes, the other waits until they’re back. They got these tracking apps so they can find each other.”

“Mmm,” You typed into your phone as she talked. “So you would say there’s fear?”

“There’s always fear. We see girls one night and they gone the next. It comes with the job but… something about this is so deliberate.” She said. “They’re not just hurting us but our work. Men don’t wanna look at a girl with a fucked-up face.”

“And you? Have you changed the way you work?”

“Well, of course, I’m more aware but that’s always how it is. You take note of everyone, everything. I got a thing for faces, you know? I try to memorize them.” She took another drink. “Even just those walking by. You never know.”

“Mmhmm,” You nodded as she finished the Jack. “Anything suspicious? Well, beyond the usual?”

“That’s the thing, nothing stands out. And it’s hard to tell. Half our customers are strange in one way or the other. Mostly harmless, lonely. It’s the pimps you gotta beware of…”

The hour passed quickly as Rashida spoke and you listened. She spoke more freely as the night wore on and you paid for another round. You were stunned when you looked at the clock.

“Fifteen minutes over,” You reached for your purse. “Extra twenty?”

“Whatever,” She said. “It’s… no names?”

“Promise. No names.” You paid her behind the empty glasses. “Rashida… do you think we could talk again? Maybe during the day? I’d like to get some of this on tape.”

“On tape?” Her eyes flared.

“For my own purposes. It will not be released. I’ll have you sign a waiver.” You said.

She rubbed her forehead and thought.

“I’ll pay.” You offered.

“Do you really think your story can help us?” She asked. “That these fancy New York millionaires will care?”

“I think it’s worth a try.” You stood and stretched a cramp out of your calf. “So?”

“You don’t needa pay me,” She said. “Not during the day. You just tell me where to meet you.”

“Alright,” You flicked through your phone and turned it to her, “Can I have your number?”

“Sure, babe,” She smiled and typed in her number before handing it back. “I’m gonna finish my drink. I’ll see ya ‘round.”

“I’ll be in touch,” You tapped the table as she sat back down. “Be careful, okay?”

She looked at you as she held her glass. She considered you a moment then nodded. “Thanks. I always am.”

You left her and pushed out the door. You were rarely out this late and never in this part of the city. You were suddenly very nervous. Alone. The woman had made you feel safe. She was much braver than you.

As you set off down the sidewalk, you heard your name behind you and the door swung shut. It was Rashida. She caught up to you as you turned back.

“Wait.” She pulled you close to the chipped brick wall. “I got an eye for creeps, I told ya.” She ushered you down past the bar and turned the corner. She stopped you just beyond it and held a finger to her lips and mouthed ‘listen’.

Two, maybe three, minutes and you heard the bar door. The footsteps wandered away and then returned again. She peeked around the building and drew back sharply.

“Carefully,” She squeezed your shoulder. “Look.”

You frowned and inched to the edge. You glanced around at the man in his hoodie. Tall with broad shoulders. He looked up and down the street and walked back and forth once more. He stepped out onto the street and took a slant across to the other side. He was headed for the subway; the same direction as you.

You pulled back and looked at Rashida.

“I seen him when you were hiding in the shadows. He’s better at it.” She said. “Didn’t think much, you know? As I said, the freaks come out after dark but then he came into that bar. He saw you, I could tell, was lookin’ for you. He ordered a beer but didn’t even drink it.”

The hair stood on the back of your neck.

“Following me?” You uttered.

She nodded and reached into her red jacket. She pulled out one of the twenties you’d handed her. 

“Catch a cab.” She said. “And keep your eyes open. He’s good.”

“You think… you think he followed me here?” You wondered as she turned and flagged a yellow taxi.

“All I know is he wasn’t here ‘till you were.” She said. “Too bad I didn’t get a look at his face. He made sure of that.”

You watched the car pull up and you gulped.

“Thanks,” You said numbly. “I--”

“Don’t thank me, babe,” She said. “I was happy enough to keep that two hundred and finish my drink.” She opened the door. “You’re lucky I like you.”

You slid onto the seat and she closed the door. You recited your address as she backed up onto the curb and watched the taxi drive away. You sat back and let out a breath. 

Were you really being followed? If so, how long had they been tailing you?

[phoenixyfriend]

The Catboy Valois AU

This one is a little cursed, and inspired by this Totally Spies post.

This AU does contain some nsfw content, which I will place at the end of the post and mark for (it’s right after the dog pics). Once again, this was brainstormed on the GG server, back in October of 2019. Biggest contributor other than myself was @atagotiak​.

So I decided that, at some point, I need to see one of those inexplicable and very horny modern catpeople AUs.

Where a fraction of the population just happens to have cat ears and tails etc. for... minimal reason.

Tarvek def has them. Bc twink. Sticking to the tropes, you know.

All the Valois are catpeople because most of history didn't have the option of interbreeding, just coexisting. Something something sterile hybrids because chromosomes.

Andronicus Valois, Catboy King

Lucrezia was full human and Aaronev never had a chance.

"Most of history" because recently they scienced up ways to get around it, so there are catperson/human hybrids, like Gil and Zeetha (Klaus is human, Zanta is not).

Klaus is kinda glad Gil has cat ears bc this makes people automatically assume he can’t be the dad even if they realize it’s technically possible.

This means Agatha gets her boys.

The human (Lars), the hybrid (Gil), and the cat (Tarvek).

Anevka's initial robot body doesn't have the cat features just due to the fact that Tarvek was aiming for Bare Minimum, and then when he added them in later she decided she liked being able to pick when she had them.

I am morally obligated to reblog the callout art @mercurialvoid​ did for me a few years ago.

We’re not gonna talk about that, though.

human Othar/catgirl Anevka

SCENT MARKING

It's considered Undignified but everyone still DOES it, just... discreetly.

Agatha thinks nothing of it when Zeetha rubs their cheeks together while training and then someone looks at her funny and asks if that's her girlfriend or something.

And Agatha Realizes that she's currently got Belongs-to-Zeetha scent on her and has to scramble to explain that Zeetha kind of adopted her as a little sister because it's the closest approximation she can come up with that still has Acceptable Connotations.

I think platonic marking is a THING but mostly within families, children, and really close female friends, like holding hands. (Toxic masculinity does apply.)

And kolee-zumil is effectively family relationship.

Agatha can't SMELL the scent markings but she gets used to them.

Also like. There's probably different levels of scent marking depending on the body part. Wrists and cheeks are different.

Jagers that used to be catboys have better senses of smell, and are the ones sent to find a Heterodyne.

Agatha and Lars make out but don't go all the way because Agatha is not ready. (Meanwhile, Zeetha can literally smell how horny these dumb kids are.)

TINY BABY GILVEK FACE NUZZLES WHILE STILL ON CW:

(Imagine how much more dangerous the baby gilvek airship-exploring shenanigans would be given one is a catboy and the other is half catboy.)

Gil just kinda scent marks on literally everything/everyone. The boy is affection-starved well into adulthood. He probably purrs too. And purring is probably considered kinda undignified.

Tarvek purrs when he’s designing clothes in his head. He’s embarrassed when he realizes. Everyone thinks it’s cute tho.

Also when crafting super-complicated diabolical plans.

Purring isn’t very diabolical. So it’s embarrassing and doesn’t fit with the aesthetic at all.

It’s hard to do an evil scheme while being an image-conscious catboy.

Gil only. Sort of knows how to cat. He's not very good at it. Zulenna helped but...

Is Von Pinn a cat? Gut says yes. Though it makes it less likely she'd be mistaken for Lu as the students did, but hey! She’d appreciate that.

She probably wouldn’t know how to cat.

Or maybe she would, given we’re assuming hereditary and she was made for Andronicus... She probably knows a bit abt how to tell other people how to cat, but she doesn’t know how to cat herself.

The Muses... not designed to look like catpeople. Ruined the minimalist bodies RVR was going for, going by canon's lack of consistent ears or noses

Agatha does not realize at first that Von-Pinn is a cat-lady because her ears match her hair and every time she sees Agatha her ears go back, and the tail is hidden under the hobble dress.

Otilia is very happy to go from catwoman body to Giant Metal Cat body

KITTY BANGLADESH DUPREE

She's got a faint pattern to her fur that's, on closer inspection, very much indicating she's a PANTHER.

Consider: Tarvek starts working himself up into a frenzied panic and the nearest Trusted Person starts petting him to calm him down and he like. Melts.

TBH tho, a good portion of canon Tarvek’s behaviour can already be described as “cat does something stupid and immediately after attempts to pretend he has dignity even though everyone saw the stupid thing.”

Once Tarvek calms down... Lazy Cat Time.

OH

NECK PINCH

CH would be ecstatic that Agatha snagged two suitors, then swing around to devastated that they’re both catboys, and maybe delusional enough to attempt to cut the ears/tails off like that’d solve anything then come around to “well there’s always science” once it’s fixed.

All Valois have high necks on their outfits, at least at the back

So nobody tries to Deactivate The Cat

(One less thing for Anevka to worry about.)

Because, you know. Canon decided to cut Agatha in half to acquire an heir, so we can’t exactly say the Castle is all that sensible.

It does calm down once Agatha mentions she has Lars, though.

Per @lyratalus​: Krosp could be... so much more dangerous in this AU. What if he was designed to be emperor of all catpeople?

Cats never do what they're told anyways, and you can’t really control people without wasps, but the attempt was made! Vapnoople was ambitious!

Long story short, there's a spark of Something but then they just bat him off the table.

Imagine Seffie making Martellus Stop by deactivating the cat

Violetta is the cutest lil catgirl...

SHE GETS REALLY BRISTLEY WHEN SHE'S MAD

HE'S NOT A TWINK AND IT'S WEIRD. Not even a twunk???

Martellus is

So fucking ODD for a catboy

Like it HAPPENS but it means that human women are more likely to find him attractive than catgirls (and even that's a bit of a long shot on the basis of personality).

(Gil excused from the catboys-are-twink-to-twunk rule on the basis of being half human, and his dad being Basically A Wall.)

That said, for Andy I’m gonna go with "buff as fuck but sooooooo charismatic that all the catgirls, and human girls, flocked to him anyway."

So that’s at least two Bara catboys in this AU

Tarvek is canonically more or less the same size/shape as Gil, but... in my heart, Tarvek’s a twunk. He’s got muscle but he's not AS big, and he's got intense Twink energy, especially since Tarvek actually is queer.

(And they're both straight so they're not even technically bara, just Buff.)

(Not twinks either but...)

(Twink is a fun word.)

Colette is human and Seffie isn't but they'd need science for babies ANYWAY so who cares? It's a lot of Seffie laying her head in Colette's lap and purring as she falls asleep because Colette just keeps petting her.

Catboy Martellus still makes sparkhound shapeshifters. He's a catperson...  but he's still a Dog Person.

Martellus and his dynamic with the sparkhounds:

He loves them, they love him. But they’re embarrassing sometimes.

THIS MARKS THE BEGINNING OF THE NSFW CONTENT

ANYWAY back to the point, which is that a lot of these catperson AUs are just... really super horny.

Which is valid.

Ears are technically erogenous zones for everyone but for the cat people... it's a Lot. It's also not like. Inherently sexual? But it can be. Like spooning. It feels nice ALWAYS but with the right person it's also HORNY.  Or like brushing someone else's hair. 

Ear rubs and headpats that result in like, intense sensation? Good actually.

Also I’m declaring that catpeople have heats. Or at least like. Heightened mating seasons? Extra horny times.

So you have Agatha and Lars normal, Gil kinda horny and confused, and Tarvek rubbing himself against the nearest spouse in hopes that someone's going to fuck the living daylights out of him.

Valois probably take suppressing things as a matter of course bc it’s hard to stay alert to assassination attempts when overwhelmingly horny. When Tarvek deliberately forgoes them eventually, everyone is touched by how much trust it shows.

Without suppressants, the horny is either something you can cope with or something that is intense but comes in Very brief periods. Either one day a month, or a week twice a year? Something like that.

Honestly though, imagine if Gil tried to hide being a catperson for the sake of the Empire or some nonsense, and had to just suffer when in heat?

Agatha likes to watch the boys go at it because there's something about Fangs On Neck that's super pleasurable for cat people and she can't provide that for Tarvek but Gil certainly can.

Bonding marks aren't a thing but possessive biting is.

(Since birth control is so easily accessed in GG, I feel like Lu’s opinion of catboys would be a super gross objectifying thing.)

(Which. Yeah.)

(Lucrezia basically has that opinion on any man in canon that isn’t immediately useful to her for science reasons.)

[readyplayerhobi]

Flower | 06

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, slight angst

; Word Count: 2.7k

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: Another part :D please let me know what you think and all that jazz. If you enjoyed it, please consider reblogging to let others find it too! :)

; Flower Masterpost

-

You don’t get very long to swoon over the date to yourself, for the very next morning you wake up to an abundance of texts from your two very impatient best friends. It’s a wonder your phone has any battery left given how many messages they’d sent into the group chat you all shared and it’s with more than a little bemusement that you respond to them both by asking if they’d sent enough.

That had only inspired a barrage of even more messages, leading to you simply telling them both to come over. They would have done that anyway, you knew that, but the official invitation at least gave them the excuse that they were wanted.

Which they were, because of course you wanted to gush and squeal to them along with analyse every bit of the previous nights date. It had been too late when you came home for them to come over and you’d felt tired, bone-weary even. Unlike your effervescent friends, you often liked to say that you had a social battery.

You were happy to socialise with people you got on with and understood until that battery depleted, upon which you simply wanted to go home and recharge. People took a lot out of you, and events like last night were particularly draining for you due to your nerves.

As such, you’d gone to sleep at 11pm and ended up sleeping straight through till 10am, completely oblivious to the impatience of your best friends. But now they were here, in the living room of your small apartment and practically sitting on you in their desperation to hear all about your night of debauchery.

That was a joke, they knew you well enough to know that would never happen.

Though they had been thoroughly entertained by his dick vomit story. Poor guy. He hadn’t even met them and now he was forever associated with a story like...that. You’d apologise whenever you saw him again, or at least before they ever got to introduce themselves.

Still, it was fun though as you retold the events of the night to them. They were charmed by the fact he’d taken you to an escape room and you knew that it meant a lot to them that he’d been so careful and sweet regarding your shy personality. The fact that you were talking about him with such enthusiasm and that tiny smile that said you were trying to hold back a grin told them everything and you sensed their overwhelming happiness for you.

“I can’t believe you went on a rant about to milk an almond.” Chungha groans, dainty hand slapping at her forehead before she runs her fingers through her long, ice-blonde hair. Her face was completely empty of makeup but you’d already promised her that you’d do it for her later. She had a date herself tonight, which you and Soyeon were pleased about.

Unlike you though, she’d met this guy through her work. You hoped it would be good for her though, even if boyfriends did often take your friends away from you for a while. 

“Well he started it. Or did I? I don’t remember. Either way, he completely agreed with me. The first people to do things must have been truly wild. I mean, think about it. Who was the first person to look at a cow’s udder and go ‘...I’m gonna have me some of that!’” You point out, eyes wide as you tried to convince them of your point.

Both of them just stared at you before Soyeon sighed deeply, flopping back onto the couch and shifting until her fluffy sock covered feet were in your lap. You pushed at them lightly, nose turning up but she ignored you completely, just letting out a deep groan.

“I mean...you’re not wrong. It is weird. But that is so not first date conversation!” She lets out another groan that sounds almost like it comes from her stomach and you feel your body heat up in embarrassment.

“Well he didn’t complain. If anything, he encouraged it. Asked me how do you milk an oat?” Your voice is defensive, lips pursed in a petulant pout and there’s silence from them both for a minute. And then Chungha is running her fingers down your arm with a defeated smile, shaking her head.

“It sounds like you’ve got a winner there girl.” Everything goes quiet for a few minutes after that and you feel the stirring of anxiety and panic in your stomach that you’d done something wrong. It only takes the tiniest signal from your brain before your body goes into overdrive, muscles tightening while everything feels like a livewire and your mind begins to run over the date obsessively, picking over anything that you think you were too forward or stupid on.

Anything to prove that you’d made an idiot out of yourself and that you would never hear from Jung Hoseok again.

“Do you think I messed up?” The words are so soft, every syllable laced tightly with fear and worry as you stare down at the fuzzy pink socks Soyeon is wearing. They have prancing unicorns on them and pretty rainbows. You’d bought her them for Christmas last year and had a matching pair of your own in your extensive sock drawer.

The two of them don’t need to be experts to hear the vulnerability in your voice and they’ve both known you long enough to know that your mind is compulsively finding ways to convince you that everything went wrong. That Hoseok had been weirded out by you and didn’t want to see you again, despite his commitment to texting you.

Guys did that, didn’t they? Said they’d text or call and never did.

Maybe it was a stereotype or something. Who knows. But the sickness in your stomach tells you that it’s probably true here.

“Hey, hey no. Don’t do this. Don’t do it sweetie, don’t you dare take a good and fun date like that and twist it negative in that pretty head of yours. It genuinely sounds like you both had a great time. And you said yourself that he didn’t complain about your conversations, he even encouraged them and went along with you! He sounds like a great guy!” Chungha says earnestly, grasping your hand tightly between her own and squeezing with an encouraging smile.

Soyeon pokes at your stomach with a toe, giving you her own smile from where her head rests on the large Pusheen pillow that sits with pride on your couch. You hate touching feet so you don’t do anything, simply give her a glare that just causes her to smile prettily.

Unlike Chungha, she has nothing this afternoon so has decreed that she will be spending her time with you instead. You both had a ton of true crime documentaries to watch on Netflix!

“He does. And he walked you to your car. Besides all that, you sound into him. Don’t talk yourself out of it.” Chewing on your lip, you let out a quiet hum and shrug your shoulders. As much as you love your best friends, it was sometimes frustrating when all you wanted to do was vent and be negative when they were so persistent on cheering you up.

You knew why they were doing it, and you appreciated it. But getting out of your slumps had always been hard. And your mind found it far easier to destroy happy moments than to let go of the negative.

“Yeah but…” Chungha places her hand over your mouth gently, pressing just hard enough that you can’t say anything before raising her brows with a soothing smile. 

“No but’s. They’re not allowed in this conversation. Not unless you want to tell us what his butt was like. I mean...did you see it? Not naked obviously, but like...you know...in his jeans. Some guys have amazing asses.” And with that, you chuckle, the looming aura of sadness still prevalent inside you but momentarily pushed aside as you recall her ex. He had indeed been blessed with an ass.

“Ahh...unfortunately not. He looks like one of those guys who’s...moderately blessed in that department. Not that I was looking. Well I was totally looking. But he fills his jeans nicely, so there’s that.”

“Yeah but he has tattoos and piercings. That makes up for any lack of bubble butt. Besides, you don’t wanna date a guy with a better ass than you. That’s just depressing. Think of the squat envy you’d have.” That comes from your splayed out friend, slapping her own thighs with a pout and you roll your eyes at her, thoroughly amused.

“Please, you don’t have to worry about any butt envy or anything. Your ass is fine. My ass has too much going on anyway, maybe I should give some to him.” You lightly pinch Soyeon’s leg, laughing as she yelped and then pouted at you, rubbing at the place before waving her feet in your face.

Immediately you’re recoiling away, landing almost on top of Chungha who just watches you both playfight with exasperation.

“Maybe so, but it’s nice to have something to grip you know? Both male and female.” Soyeon says with a grin, wiggling her brows at you suggestively and you heat up at the idea of grabbing Hoseok’s ass like that. And then you think about him grabbing yours and you can practically feel the ghost of his hands on you.

It makes you shudder in delight, the fantasy a wonderful image and Soyeon giggles as she feels the movement from you.

“Oooh, you like that. You wanna touch Hoseok’s ass?” She teases and you stick your tongue out at her childishly.

“Okay...in the interest of honesty...I want to lick every tattoo he has until I’ve committed them all to memory and then just...bite him. Anywhere. I don’t even care where. Oh god, his neck. Guys...his neck is just so freaking...urgh. And his fingers! Argh, they’re just...long and perfect and all I could think was…” You break off then, body heating as you squirm at the thought of everything you’d just said while you press your hands to your hot cheeks, embarrassed at what you’d blurted out.

Everything was the truth and you knew that they could tell. What you most certainly were not telling them was that you’d imagined tracing along his tattoos with your tongue. Which had then led on to a delightful fantasy of him pleasuring you with his own tongue, that delightful ball piercing combining with those long fingers in your mind until his name had been a gasped prayer of satisfaction and pleasure in the quietness of the night.

And then suddenly your phone vibrates, the sound loud on the table in front of you and all three of you jump in alarm at it. There’s a moment of silence before you all look at each other and laugh, feeling ridiculous that you’d all gotten scared of a phone notification of all things.

Reaching out, you grunt as Soyeon accidentally kicks you in the stomach before your fingers grasp your phone. Your friends were adamant that your phone case was uncool, but you didn’t care. You liked the flip phone case, the design a cute and overly cartoonish strawberry in hot pink and mint green.

Eyes widening, you stare at the lit-lock screen in disbelief before Chungha is poking at your arm, leaning over to try and see what’s got you so shocked.

“What is it? Has your dad accidentally posted in your family chat again?” Yeah, he was never living that moment down when he’d accidentally sent a sext that was supposed to be for your mom into your family group chat. “Is it...oh my god. It’s him! Soyeon! He’s texted!”

Her squeal is appallingly loud, causing you to turn and glare at her yet you can’t find it in yourself to shush her. Because you want to squeal loudly as well as she’s right, it’s Hoseok. He’s texted. Like he said he was.

“Isn’t it supposed to be too over eager to text the next day?” Is all you say, your tone confused and you recognise that what you’ve just said it stupid. But you can’t think properly right now because all you feel is pure elation that sizzles and crackles in your veins, the nausea of panic earlier to now turn into nausea of excitement while you try your hardest not to smile.

He’d texted. Just like he said he would.

“Oh shut up woman. Are you seriously gonna turn him down messaging you?! This a sign he likes you! Really likes you! It’s not even noon and the man is trying to talk with you again! Answer him!” Soyeon says and you realise that she’s gotten up, peering over your shoulder at your phone screen as well.

Quietly, you unlock your phone and read the message from him a few times before licking your lips and responding.

Jung Hoseok [11:23am]: Hi. So...about that Instagram?

Jung Hoseok [11:23am]: Also, I know you’re not meant to double text but...last night was fun.

The second text comes in before you can properly respond and your eyes widen, noting that he seems to be pretty eager just like they’d said. Or at least...being polite.

Y/N [11:24am]: Hi...same. Hope I wasn’t too...weird

You send him your Instagram handle as well, wondering whether or not you’d posted any dumb photos on there recently. Before you can get too worked up over it though, you push the thought firmly away and decide that he’ll just have to put up with it. He didn’t seem to have been bothered by your quirks last night, and if he wanted to pursue anything further then you’d rather he realise sooner than later.

Jung Hoseok [11:26am]: Nah, you were fine. Best first date I’ve ever had

Jung Hoseok [11:27am]: I also found this out this morning and thought you’d like to hear, Fact Queen

Jung Hoseok [11:29am]: Did you know...Stan Lee almost made the Power Rangers. Saw it on a documentary I’m watching

Y/N: [11:30am]: The Toys That Made Us? On Netflix? It’s great!

Jung Hoseok [11:32am]: It is! Thought I’d tell you anyway

Y/N [11:33am]: :)

He goes quiet after that and you realise that your friends have both been sat silent, holding their breath as they read the conversation between you both. And when you look at them, your eyes widen when you see the matching broad grins they wear.

There’s a second of hesitation before they both squeal and wrap their arms around you tightly, squeezing you so hard.

“Oh my god! He so likes you! He gets you! Oh my god! Girl! You’ve lucked out!!” Chungha shrieks, shaking you violently by the shoulders while Soyeon is slapping your arm lightly in her excitement. Their positive energy is infectious and you find yourself laughing in response, the happiness inside you bubbling higher at Hoseok’s words.

He’d enjoyed last night. Really enjoyed it, if he was to be believed.

And not only did he not mind your weird sense of humour or fact based response mechanism, but he reciprocated it with something he thought you might find interesting. It made you feel warm and gooey.

Another vibration causes you to look down at your phone again, noting that there’s no new message this time from him. Instead, you see that someone called ‘jungsevenfold’ has followed you on Instagram.

Clicking on it, you see that it’s Hoseok’s profile. And just like his Facebook, it’s a hodgepodge of casual photos of him and his friends and more artistic and aesthetic photography shots. Shyly, you follow him back and then note the notifications that pop up on the bottom.

“Oh...my god. This guy is gonna be whipped for you.” Soyeon snorts and you heat up in embarrassment, wanting to deny her but unsure how to.

Because he’d already viewed and liked at least 5 of your images. And he’d even left a comment on the photo you’d taken before you left for the date last night, the angle and light perfect to make your make-up and outfit look its best.

jungsevenfold: beautiful! :)

[justreadingfics]

Looking For a Heartbeat (24/26)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Series Summary: You and Bucky used to be in a relationship. Feelings were hurt, you left.  It’s been two years and you’re back. You both will handle the reunion well, won’t you?

Word Count: 3K+

Warnings for this chapter: angst, kidnapping.  

A/N:  Thank you @suz-123 for being so amazing. Next chapter will be the hardest one to write, I can tell, so bear with my slow ass writer, please! And thank you for you all being so amazing, I’ve received so much love last chapter, I’m sorry I couldn’t reblog every feedback adding a comment of my own, but I do read all the messages, more than once, of course. Love you. Links are messing up posts, you can find the masterlist link on my description.

You’re breathing.

You know you are because of the sound of air filling your lungs through your nose and Natasha furiously typing beside you are the only two noises reaching your ears. There’s no other sound on the tower’s control room at 4 in the morning.

Lifting your gaze from your stubbornly trembling hands on your lap, you see the same devastation devouring your insides plastered on the expressions of every single occupant of the round table.   Wanda, Vision, Thor and… Bucky. The incredible pain already consuming you pangs in your chest harder at the sight of him right in front of you. His hands are tightened against each other over the table as his head hang low and his locks hides his face from you. You keep your eyes on him as if this way you would make him somehow look back at you. You need to see it. If you can see hope in his eyes maybe … maybe it would be easier for you to hold on to it. You need to hold on to it. To anything…

Summer...

Your baby girl.

Your whole world.

“Fuck… Godammit!” Beside Bucky, Tony curses, working energetically on screens popping on the air, trying to fix FRIDAY - who has been hacked - while Natasha silently aims a furrowed stare at her laptop screen and types, searching for any clues of where your daughter might be.

By the way, every single one of you refuses to leave the room before any directions of where Summer might be. Sam and Steve are not there because they’re dealing with the necessary procedures to put Dr. Nadine into SHIELD’S custody and moving her kids to a safety program from the same organization.

After you, Bucky and the whole team almost put the entire building down and didn’t find Summer - the worst feeling you’ve ever felt in your life, as if some part of you, your own heart, dammit, had been taken away from you -  the team brought every guest from the party and everyone that had something to do with you, Bucky and Summer back to the tower to be interrogated. Damn the late hour, damn with the inconvenience. Summer was missing, your little sun. The whole team’s little sun.

It took two words from Nat and just the sight of Wanda for Dr. Nadine to spill the beans. She confessed they had been blackmailing her. HYDRA. They threatened her two kids and, in exchange for their safety, she had been giving information to them. About Summer. As it turns out, despite the fact she had been telling you and Bucky there was no way to find out how the Serum would affect her yet, she knew it exactly. By following the development of her cells she knew Summer would grow with a super physical strength and abnormal brain activity, what would without doubt give her an unusual intelligence and heightened senses. She’s been telling this and everything about Summer’s health and routine to HYDRA  and Zemo, as she also said she heard met him in one of her latest encounters with them. 

It took every ounce of your strength for you to not just jump on her and strangle the doctor to death. As for Bucky, it took a God, a Super Soldier and an extraordinary being with an infinity stone on his forehead to hold him back. At some point you might even be able to understand her motives. Her family was in danger and it was HYDRA, after all, but she could have reached out for you, for SHIELD, anyone. You would have surely kept her and her family safe. But right now, you’re thankful Steve and Sam acted quickly on contacting Fury and arranging everything to take her far away from you. All you think about is to just rip her head off along with everyone else who even thought about touching Summer. You trusted her. You trusted her with your kid’s life, the biggest love of your life...Your baby. Your precious innocent baby has been in danger this whole time because of her.

The thud of the door opening makes you jump in your seat and you promptly stand up when Sam and Steve step into the room being followed closely by Sharon Carter. The harsh scowl on her face softens when her gaze crosses yours and she makes a beeline towards you, enveloping your body in a tight embrace.

“We’re gonna get her back, my friend,” She whispers softly in yours ear.

Your jaw clenches to hold back the sob threatening to come out and you hold her back harder. You haven’t cried yet, nor Bucky, and you don’t know you can stop if you start. But right now, you have time for none of that, you need to stand strong and focused to get your baby back.

“Do you have any news?” Thor and Tony ask in unison.

Stepping away from the embrace, you turn around to see everyone standing up like you, eyes trained on Sharon. Everyone but Bucky, who remains stoically staring down at his hands. You breathe in deeply, before focusing back on Sharon. You need anything she might have to tell you right now.

You and Sharon have been good friends ever since childhood, since your grandfather and her aunt, Peggy, were partners at SHIELD. Now, she’s the new Task Force Commander of the Joint Counter Terrorist Center, where Zemo was being kept. Her presence here means she has news about him and, therefore, about Summer.

She nods after the scowl comes back to her face and steps to the center of the table as everyone keeps their attention fixated on her. Even Tony and Nat stop what they are doing to listen to her. You heart beats in a frantic rhythm against your chest as, from her watch – courtesy of Tony Stark – an image pops up to the air with a male figure on it.

“This is Agent Ivan Reed. He used to be in charge of Zemo’s custody and, as we found out tonight, he’s also a HYDRA rat.” Her tone is bitter as her jaw clenches. “What we know so far is HYDRA has been communicating with Zemo through him and, with their help, Zemo has been putting together a new organization, a group, actually. They’ve been calling themselves Masters of Evil,” Sharon rolls her eyes and scoffs at the stupidity of the name. “We don’t know for sure yet, but it seems like there’s a few enhanced people among the group and, when they found out about Summer,” Her eyes drop to yours apologetically as her voice softens, “They reached out for her doctor and started threatening their family in exchange of information on her development and her routine, as you all already know.”

Yes, you already knew they were interested in Summer somehow, but listening to it again, how all this time your baby has been in danger punches the air out of your lungs. You glance at Bucky, but when he doesn’t show any sign to you, besides the clenched fists on the table, you turn back to Sharon.

“The idea was to build a new super soldier. One that would be raised and programmed entirely by them and therefore they could control completely. When the Doctor confirmed Bucky’s DNA would have the effect they expected on her, they decided her first birthday would create the proper distraction to,” Sharon pauses, taking in some air before continuing, “to take her.”

The sound of wood cracking makes you jump before you turn towards the sound and spot Bucky’s clenched fist deep into a whole on the table’s surface. This makes all heads snap to him, but no one says anything or move to his direction. No one dares to.

 “Any idea of where they might’ve taken her?” You ask Sharon and, despite your efforts, your voice comes out shaky and you hate it. You fucking hate it as you brace yourself to keep standing up.

“This Ivan Reed, Lady Carter, has he said anything about the little Sun’s whereabouts? I can go and have a chat with him if you allow me so,” Lighting sparks run through Thor’s fingers as his thundering and dangerously low voice fills up the room.

“He’s a scumbag,” Sharon answers sharply, turning off the image coming out of her watch, “Believe me, nothing would give me more pleasure than arranging a chat between you two, Thor... but we tried everything. We really did,” She addresses a reassuring look at you, “It seems like… he really doesn’t know.” She shrugs as defeat sweeps into her voice.

A line of angry and frustrated curses resounds through the room as you keep silently looking at Sharon, as if pleading her for saying anything else that could give you hope.

“This group, these Masters of Evil, they’re a whole new organization, but HYDRA is backing them up. We’ve been monitoring HYDRA and we believed we had all their facilities down, but… they’re just fucking everywhere.” She stops and bites on her lips, a nervous tick she rarely lets slip, “But maybe… if someone who knows them, deeply, ….maybe… we…” Sharon tentatively tries to say but doesn’t finish.

She doesn’t have to as silence falls into the room. You know what she means, or else, you know who she means. You swallow, slowly nodding at yourself before you walk to Bucky, where he remained seated and quiet all this time. Getting close, you crouch beside him, supporting yourself with an arm over the table. You can see how hard he’s fighting to breathe as his chest move up and down. “Bucky… can you… can you think of a place where they might’ve taken her?”

It’s an unfair question. You know that. He’s been out of their grasp for so long and he was never really him when he was there. Not really. It’s unlikely he remembers anything, let alone something as specific as this. Besides, it’s completely unfair to put this incredibly heavy weight on his shoulders, but you must try. You just have to.

Without looking at you, he shakes his head no, “I don’t know.” He answers plainly and you finally hear his voice again after his outburst against Dr. Nadine.

“If they…” You lick your lips, “If they want her because of her enhancement, maybe they won’t hurt her.” You hold on to this thought, “They’ll probably keep her somewhere… somewhere they can… they can learn more about her.” The words come out in a struggle, “Think, Bucky, it might be a place you’ve been before…” You try, pleading with him, “It’s Summer… our baby daughter. We gotta bring her back, Bucky. We gotta protect her-”

“Don’t you think I know that?” He shouts and, as he snaps at your direction, his devastated pained expression startles you. The chair scratches against the floor with the force he uses to swiftly get up, making you stand up promptly, too. “It’s my daughter, my baby. Don’t you think I know it’s my job to protect her, a job I was terrible at, by the way?  And no, I can’t think of a fucking place where they might’ve taken her.” He storms out as fast and as he blurts his words out.

You keep staring at the door he had just slammed, the loud thud cutting through the dead silence that has taken over the room. You’re lost. You’re completely lost. When you move to go after him, Steve gently puts a hand on your arm,

“Let me,” His tightens his lips at you.

You don’t have the strength to disagree and after he leaves, your legs finally crumble making your body drop to the nearest chair. You can’t hold back anymore and the loud sobs start to slip out of you in a violent rush. You don’t want to cry, you don’t. You have succeeded in holding it back so far... What a useless mother you are who, instead of finding your daughter, just keep crying there sitting on a chair. How is that going to help your little baby.  You need to be strong. You need to think clearly.

Gentle hands cover yours over your lap as Wanda and Sam kneel on each side of you.

“My baby, my little baby.” You sob, “What if she woke up, Wan? What if she’s scared because she can’t see me or Bucky. She doesn’t even have her little unicorn… she’ll be so scared.” Your vision is blurred with tears as you utter your voice out between loud sobs, “What if she’s hungry. I always nurse her as soon as she wakes up and I’m not there with her. What if they… what if they hurt her…”

“No, honey, that won’t happen,” Wanda holds your hand strongly and a wave, a peaceful feeling, rushes its way into your chest. But not enough to completely calm you down.

“You said it yourself, hurting her it’s not what they want.” Sam argues.

“What if I don’t get to find her? Oh my god,” Your stomach lurches and you let go of Sam’s hand to cover your mouth, holding back the strong will of throwing up at the mere thought.  

“Hey, hey.” Tony crouches in front of you. “That’s not going to happen. Do you see this team over here.” Tony waves around and you then realize the concerned faces of the whole group hovering you. “We won’t stop before we get our little sun back. We may have fucked up by not seeing it coming,” Tony bites his cheek, you know he feels guilty because of FRIDAY being hacked. “But her aunts and uncles are the best in the galaxy and most importantly her momma and dada are the best. We’ll bring her back. No scratch on her. And I pity whoever comes between us.”

You take in a shuddering breath, trying to make your breathing even as you start to feel a bit better. He’s right. You know none of them will rest before Summer is safe. They all have been working non stop the whole night. They love her. Truly love her. And will do whatever it takes to bring her back. You only wish none of this were happening to your baby.  

“Ok,” You nod as the weak sound comes out of your lips.

“Why don’t you go rest a bit, I can go with you.” Wanda offers.

“No,” You shake your head fast, “I’m gonna stay right here.”

You feel the comfort of Nat’s hand on your shoulder. “Honey, go. It’s been one hell of a night. We got this. Anything and we call you, right away. Just a few minutes.” She squeezes your shoulder, “Go wash your face, lay down a bit. It’s been too much… Just a few minutes - an hour tops- and you come back. We’re not going anywhere. Please.”

You ponder the thought for a minute. You actually haven’t been of much help so far, you need to get it together for you baby… all for her. Reluctantly, you agree. Just a bit and you’ll come back and you’ll find her.

~~~

After you wash your face and drink gallons of water, Wanda offers to prep an omelet for you. Having no strength in you to argue, you accept it even if the slight glance at food makes your stomach cold. As she works on the kitchen you go to Summer’s room.

The sight of the old unicorn – her favorite toy – forgotten on her crib brings tears to your eyes again. You take it in your hands and hold it strongly against your chest as you sit on an armchair. God, you hope she’s alright.

You hope Bucky is alright, too. You hope Steve was able to comfort him at least a little bit…

“Hey?”

As in line with your thought you turn at the voice to see him standing by the door. He seems agitated, alright, but you spot something in his eyes you’ve been dying to see the whole night. Hope.

“There might be a place.” He nods and licks his lips.

“Let’s go.” You don’t think twice before getting up from the chair and rushing towards the door. As you move to pass by him, he places his hand on your elbow.

“I’m sorry…” He says firmly, not averting his eyes for even a second, “For yelling, I…

“Don’t.” You say softly, shaking your head as his eyebrows furrow. “I know. I know.” You cover his hand on your elbow with yours. You do know. Only the two of you are able to understand the deep pain you’re both sharing now.

His sigh is deep and shaky before he gives you a tight smile.

“Come on.” You urge, not wanting to waste another second when you have the chance of saving your baby.

~~~

The team splits in two. You, Bucky, Steve and Wanda go on the smaller jet, as Thor, Tony, Sam and Vision go on the bigger one. Tony keeps working on FRIDAY on the way as Nat and Sharon stay behind, searching for new intel, in case Bucky’s lead is wrong and something else comes up.  

Your heart pounds as you take a seat beside Bucky. You might be so close to finding her.

He watches as you place the little stuffed unicorn in your lap. Seconds after, his metal hand finds yours and you look at him as you let your fingers intertwine with his. That little sparkle of hope you saw in his eyes moments ago on Summer’s room grows into a fire in your chest. You’re together in this and you’re stronger. Stronger enough to go get your baby. 

“We’re gonna bring her back.” You tell him, gripping on his hand for dear life. You always found the touch of the metal on his hand somehow reassuring. You always felt safe with it, because it’s him. Your rock, your strength. Your love. This time is no different.

“I know.” He nods, squeezing your hand back and allowing a small smile to form on his face, “There’s no other option.”

You believe him.

“There’s no other option.” You nod, smiling back at him.

~~~~

Ch. 25 coming soon. 

[novantinuum]

Shattering Atlas (a corrupted!Steven one-shot)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: T (TW: depression and body horror)

Words: 4.2K~

Summary: A boy can only carry an entire galaxy upon his back for so long before the weight of it all finally becomes too much.

Folks, here it is! I’m finally finished. AO3 link to be posted in the reblogs.

Disclaimer: This is absolutely far darker and more drastic than I believe canon would EVER tread if this theory had the faintest chance of being anywhere close to the truth, but sometimes you just feel like being super angsty for angst's sake, y'feel? It was an interesting writing experiment nonetheless. Not gonna lie, this is kinda a vent piece. Please do heed those tags. This delves into some difficult territory both mentally and otherwise, as it's written entirely from Steven's POV.

_____

Steven knows he’s messed-up.

It’s not something he tries to advertise to all the sweet, innocent people who somehow after all this time still choose to stand by his side, but he can’t lie to himself. Spending a significant chunk of your childhood actively doubting your own personhood shatters you in ways no amount of unconditional love can ever hope to mend. And sure, he’s not his mom. He knows that. Been there, had the mental breakdown, seen it, done it. The proof’s in his gem half. He knows. But as much as everyone in his life coddles him, gently tries to reassure him while he tirelessly works day and night to realign the foundation of an entire ancient civilization...

“You’re almost an adult now, isn’t that exciting?”

“Don’t worry about the future, the futures I see for you are as limitless as they are bright.”

“Take a break if you need to, ‘kay? You totally deserve one, little man.”

“Y’know, Schtu-ball, the wonderful thing about adulthood is that you can choose to fly wherever the wind takes you!”

...it’s clear none of that matters anyways. Because it’s not true, not for him. Because beyond his identity as a Crystal Gem, beyond that bottomless desire for belonging he’s been chasing all his life, ever since the fateful moment early in his childhood in which he finally realized— small, pudgy hands clutching at the oversized hand-me-down shirt right over the pink hand-me-down gem in his belly— that he isn’t like anyone else and never will be, the truth is that he genuinely doesn’t know what he wants. Who he is.

Everyone else does.

Connie has plans. Hopes, dreams. A future. She’s already thinking about college, and aims on double majoring in political science and environmental science. (A combination only she’s daring enough to pursue, but if anyone’s got the drive to succeed in that it’s her.) Dad’s still manager for Sadie Killer and the Suspects, and they’re going strong. Amethyst has been playing tour guide to all her fellow Prime sisters lately, galavanting with them all around planet Earth. Garnet is currently on the search for terrified cross-fusion Gems still in hiding across the galaxy. Pearl, Bismuth, and a number of the boardies have spearheaded a campaign to help slowly teach and integrate the humans of the Zoo into modern day society. Lapis and Peridot recently built another barn in the outskirts of Little Homeworld, and are enjoying each other’s company.

But him? When all is said and done, as the restructured Gem society stabilizes and soon no one will need him for anything anymore, when Gems and humans alike stop knocking on his metaphoric door with handfuls of their problems for him to drop everything and solve, he has nothing left. He’s no one. No future, no clue. He’s been drained empty.

He’s just drifting through life with the parking break on, continuously waiting— his nerves jittering at every quiet moment— for the next big crisis to crash into his universe and drop feed him even the tinniest shard of purpose.

After all, what is one to do when they’ve spent their entire life training to save the world, but the world has already been saved?

_____

He can’t recall exactly when his current predicament began anymore.

Time’s been hard to keep track of as of late— the days and weeks blending together in an incomprehensible fashion— and yet simultaneously, he might as well have lived a lifetime in the span of the blink of an eye. That being said, he’s pretty sure his most recent gem troubles didn’t truly kick into gear until after the incident with the, erm... cactus monstrosities.

He genuinely didn’t mean to hurt anyone, he didn’t. He only wanted to help... to heal. To try and repair but a shred of the damage Homeworld wrought on this innocent world. It worked when Earth was poisoned, so it should work in the Kindergartens too, right?

Wrong. Very wrong.

His stomach churns as he catches a glimpse of a silly photo of Peridot and himself hanging on the wall by the stairs. A static monument to his shame. Lapis is (still, days later— or is it weeks?) taking care of her gemstone at this very moment, sure, but remembering what happened before that... holding Peridot’s cracked gem in his quivering hands, biting back cries of hopelessness as he ran to the nearest warp pad, escaping from the malformed, hurting creatures born of his own magic... it‘s the kind of horror that he’s sure will linger in his dreams for a long time yet.

It’s like he’s broken. Like his powers just aren’t coming as naturally to him anymore. It’s not quite like that time with the rejuvenator. There’s no sickly glow flickering in and out of existence. No external force acting upon it. No, it’s deeper than that. It’s not a gem sourced problem, it’s him. He’s just... wrong. He’ll try to use his healing ability and it’ll backfire, he’ll summon his bubbles and shields but they’re noticeably less durable, he’ll birth life from his very soul and it’ll grow bitter and corrupt, every bit a mirror of his present mental state. He’ll jump up high in the sky to burn out years of repressed stress in semi-peace and before he can actually do so gravity will grab ahold of him like he’s a petulant, disobedient child and drag him back to the shore. It makes him want to scream, to grind his fingers into the sand so hard his knuckles go white as he sobs out every last one of his stupid, meaningless frustrations, but instead his house is always swarming with people, and his bedroom has no real door, (and he’s too embarrassed to ask for one), and in sum he can never find enough time alone to freely be his genuine messed-up self. It’s fine, though. He doubts he’s capable of crying at this point anyways.

“Dude, you okay?” Amethyst asks with brows furrowed in concern, snapping him back to reality.

His GameStation controller rests precariously in his loose grasp, entirely forgotten in the previous moment. The game they’re playing is paused. He must have blanked out again, and completely ruined their co-op fight. He lets out a shaky breath as he tightens his fingers around the plastic grips, digging into them as if they’re his sole handle on reality.

“Yeah, sorry,” he says swiftly, plastering a smile on his face with the ease of someone who’s been growing adept at this endless charade for months and months. “Didn’t sleep too well last night. Muscle cramps from training, y’know?”

He watches her closely, catalogues every minute shift in her features. Her eyes narrow so slightly that anyone else might’ve missed it. But he doesn’t. He’s observant. He’s gotta be. It’s the only way he’s kept going for this long, the only way he can ensure no one else knows. They don’t need any more worry. Regardless, Amethyst’s lack of subtlety betrays her, because it’s clear she’s searching his expression and body language right back. His chest pounds. Hastily, he holds up the controller, feeling his face go pale under her scrutiny.

Geeze, how pathetic.

No matter how hard he tries to mask it, he‘s already falling apart.

“So... we gonna play another round, or?” Right as he says this, his stomach chooses to let out an inopportune gurgle. He bites at the insides of his cheeks, inwardly cursing at the bad timing.

It’s thankfully enough to divert Amethyst’s attention from... other matters, though.

“Yo. Ste-man. Your stomach’s straight up monologuing. Have you even eaten today?”

He dimly considers this as he tries not to focus on how empty and faint his body currently feels, mind turning to fuzz. “Uhh...”

She frowns, and promptly pulls herself to her feet. “Yeah, so I’m gonna take that as a no. I’ll be right back, ‘kay? Gonna get us some cheese!” she declares bombastically, putting on a mock announcer voice.

He watches her leave his room, prancing downstairs like she doesn’t have a care in the world. A faint huff of sheer relief passes through his nostrils. Absentmindedly, his thumbs jiggle the controller’s joystick, unable to strike the earlier image of Amethyst— concern engulfing her usually carefree self— from his mind. He really should be more careful about what he says. How he acts.

He honestly couldn’t live with himself if he slipped up and became yet another emotionally taxing problem for them to deal with. Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl... all his family, his friends. They deserve peace. They deserve to be satisfied, they deserve their happily ever after. They certainly don’t deserve him, self-destructing all over the bright and shining future they’d won.

Or nearly shattering them.

Putting them in needless danger, danger that’s all his fault, because he’s broken.

His throat grows tight, airway constricted, images of black beady eyes, razor sharp fangs, and malformed limbs invading his thoughts, clawing away at insecurities long scabbed over until they ooze a bitter red. Peridot’s shrill yelp as she’s overtaken in an instant. That dreadful, immediately recognizable sound, a cracking Gem, seared onto his heart for the rest of time.

He... he can’t deny it anymore. His magic’s gone toxic. He’s toxic, bringing suffering and decay where once he brought healing. All his Gem powers are fading, maybe forever. And with them fading, he’ll soon be of no use to anyone, and when they realize why they faded they won’t want him around anyways, and y’know, it’s probably for the better they’ll have a concrete reason to finally push him away. He’s not stupid. He’s always known what an emotionally taxing strain he’s been on everyone, ever since the day Mom died for him to be born.

Steven grips the controller so hard that his fingers grow numb, mind stewing in the dark fantasies of what he’d like to do with himself when he’s left behind for good.

And then... his heart leaps in his throat as he dimly hears Amethyst begin to whisper to the others (they’re back? They’re back?? When did they return, why didn’t you notice them, how could you just miss—) downstairs.

“Y’guys,” he hears her say frantically, under her breath, “I think we really gotta talk with Steven. Something’s seriously wrong, and he won’t tell me what.”

“What, you mean to say he’s in danger? Garnet, do you see anything?”

“Hmm. I don’t foresee any external threats to Steven’s safety in the near future, but...”

“Amethyst, he’s clearly still upset about Peridot. And once she reforms in a few days, when she’s ready, he’ll be fine! Trust me.“

“No, trust me, I genuinely think this is more than just Peridot! It’s getting me super worried. He hasn’t been eating like he should, y’guys. I don’t think he’s showered in days. Sometimes it’s like he’s... I dunno, like, he isn’t even fully present. And y’know, thinking about it now? It’s been like this for a while. Since before all the cactus stuff.”

“Well, if he doesn’t want to talk about it, I’m not sure how we could—“

“We need to call Greg over,” Garnet interrupts Pearl, a new, thinly veiled panic rising in her voice. “Right now.”

His eyes stretch open wide.

Oh.

Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, no... Not here, not now, not— please, not now!

His breath hastens, his body outright shaking now. He curls tight into himself, the game controller dropping from his slackened fingers onto the floor as he clutches his knees to his chest. Sweat beads in droplets on his forehead. He outright yanks at his hair.

Amethyst, she can’t just waltz downstairs and!—

I don’t want to—

Peridot, getting cracked, I- it’s all my fault and she didn’t—

I- all of this- I’m so useless, careless, l- I’m losing my mind, what’s even wrong- why are you panicking!- I don’t—

T-they can’t know, they can’t know, they CAN’T—

He can’t fully bite back his cries as his gem flares burning hot, a rush of pure, unadulterated agony spiking through his hard light veins in an indescribably eternal split-second, the very experience of hypocrisy. Every single muscle in his body seizes. His ears ring, filled with a cacophonous clamor of sound that slashes through his mind with the deadly force of a long blade. Crippling. Debilitating. All-consuming. Hell. This is hell. Because then his head is pounding, and his limbs are all weak and shaky, and for a moment he’s bathed in a faint wash of pink, the glow enveloping him like his own corona of sickness as he succumbs to the pain he’s sequestered inside, bitterly festering for all these years.

Hell eventually recedes, both its note and its physical touch, but the dark clouds looming over his mind do not. Slowly, he loosens his grip on his curls, trying desperately to bring balance to his breathing. His ears are still ringing. His head is still cotton. Questions abound. For instance: what on Earth was that?? Stars, is something else wrong with his gem now, too? Thoroughly disorientated, he yanks up the hem of his shirt.

“Steven?!” Pearl calls frantically from downstairs, right as his trembling fingers gently trace the exposed facets of his gem. “Are you okay up there?”

He squints, features compressing in his sheer confusion. Visually, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with it. No imperfections, no flickering light, nothing. So then what’s—

“Hey, Steven? Yo?? You, uh- maybe wanna come eat downstairs, or?”

A shudder runs clear through his form, starting from his gem and coursing outwards to the furthest extremities. He grits his teeth as he rides through the stabbing discomfort, clutching at his stomach. It’s like he’s about to vomit. Sure, so maybe he was really hungry before, and maybe that has a little to do with what he’s experiencing now, but... this... still doesn’t feel right. Spots swim in his vision as he glances down again.

And that’s when he sees it, slowly creeping across the skin of his bare forearm as clear as day.

It’s a patch of dull, pinkish hide. Not human skin, hide. He runs his index finger along its perimeter, all of reality screeching to a halt as his brain performs somersaults in a desperate last-ditch attempt to contextualize the information his eyes are sending him right now.

“What?” he whispers in disbelief, (even though he has a few terrifying theories), frantic heartbeat pounding in his ears like a drum.

“I’m checking on him,” Garnet says, just loud enough that he knows for certain she intends him to hear. Solid footsteps creep across the floorboards, advancing towards the foot of the stairs.

It’s frankly impressive how fast a single stimulus can turn panic to outright paranoia.

He almost trips over himself diving to retrieve his jacket off the floor, forcing his arms through the sleeves faster than any of the Gems could ever summon their weapons. Hide it. Hide it away. They can’t see you, they can’t know you’re corru- NO! Stop.

Bathroom. He needs to get to the bathroom.

His bare feet solidly connect with the floor, toes curling inwards as he shudders again. A pulsing ache settles into the bones of his skull. Then a prickle at his neck. Reflexively, he slaps his hand against the affected locale. There’s another spot steadily growing there.

Alone, NOW.

The whole world’s spinning as he turns on his heels and flies across the length of his bedroom— sprinting past the TV, shoving past Garnet, who’s already halfway up the open stairwell, and leaping clear over the couch from midway down the last set of steps. (Everyone’s shouting in blind panic as he enters their sight. Fear. Needless, unwanted worry. Calling his name, calling for peace, but his ears are still ringing and their voices are overlapping and he can’t distinguish any of it.) When he reaches the bathroom his hand grips the knob so hard that the metal almost crumples under his force, and he swings himself through the doorway, slams it shut, and turns the lock with pink-splotched fingers faster than any one of the Gems can move to stop him.

For a split moment, things are okay. He’s alone. Moreover, he’s safe.

(But are you really?)

His head is pounding again, the pulsing at his temples soon coalescing into a constant inescapable misery. Letting his eyes flutter shut, he lets his forehead lull against the door. Flexes his knuckles, imagines the splotches disappearing from sight as easily as eye bags under makeup. He tries to calm his breathing in the meditative way Garnet once showed him. In for four counts... and out. In... and out. Come on, just ride it out, Universe. You’re a Gem- a diamond, for cripe’s sake! Control it. Conceal. Move on.

“Steven?!” Amethyst calls from outside. “Please talk to us, what’s goin’ on?”

"Whatever it is, you don't have to be alone!" Pearl adds. He doesn't even have to see her face to know that she's crying.

A renewed burst of panic spikes through his veins at this realization.

“Stop worrying about me, I’m fine!” he bites back on impulse.

“No, you’re NOT!” Amethyst hollers, and then... after a thoughtful pause, her tone softening: “I- I know you’re not.”

He stares down at his hands, brows threading together, watching as the patch of hide continues to inch across his skin. The genuine concern interlaced in every syllable of her speech is enough to make his gut churn with guilt.

“Steven, I... stars, I know you probably overheard me talking to everyone jus’ a second ago, and I know I probably betrayed every scrap of trust we ever had ‘coz of that, and I wanna say I’m sorry, but I can’t just stand aside and watch you treat yourself like garbage. Please, the door’s jammed. Let us in. We just wanna help!”

His lip quivers, despite himself. “I don’t need any help!” he insists, stubbornly pushing past the crack in his voice. “I’m just—“

He’s interrupted by a rush of crippling agony radiating upwards from his gem once more, the ache at either side of his head intensifying into three points. Hands rush to the site on automatic. Fingers grasping, searching. Discovering.

There’s something growing at his temples, he realizes with a rush of horror. Something hard, faceted. Disturbingly cold to the touch.

There’s no way to bite back his screams as the growths fully protrude, none at all, even with his mouth clamped shut, and even though he can’t see them he can sense their weight as they wind upwards and back, up and out of his curls, and he’s shaking, oh stars is he shaking, chest heaving up and down so hard he’s not sure he’ll ever be free of these awful tremors ever again, and— A hoarse sob forces its way to the surface as a third growth crowns his forehead. Trembling fingers scrape down the length of the door as he collapses to his knees, nails sharpening into gnarled talons as they sink further and further into the wood, carving through it like butter. He clenches his jaw back together so hard that with any greater pressure he might shatter his own teeth.

Still quite woozy under the threat of hyperventilation, he slowly turns his head. Extricates those dreadful claws from the door. Dares himself to look. Forcing himself back up to his feet, he gazes deep into the depths of the mirror. And as the creature trapped on the other side stares back through sickeningly pink irises— blotches of color steadily creeping up their jawline and across their cheek, inching to meet the base of those glistening crystalline horns— all known reality shatters into smithereens.

Not me, not me, not me, is the mantra he chants to himself like a prayer, stubbornly clinging to any vestige of normalcy as if this is all but a vivid nightmare he can stir awake from.

(As if deep down, a tiny, beaten-down part of himself still wants to believe he deserves a future too.)

But the darkness reflected in that mirror is following his every jerky, erratic movement as all the despair and guilt and self-hatred festering within continues to consume him like a matchstick to fire.

Not real. It’s not real! I don’t need help. I don’t need the Gems, they don’t need to know, I’m fine, I’m FINE, this isn’t corru - NO, DON’T THINK ABOUT IT! YOU CAN’T—

They’re yelling outside. Arguing, probably. (And true to form, Pearl‘s cries are the shrillest.) But he can’t be certain of anything anymore while smothered under the fog’s thickening surface, with the rest of the world relegated to mere static and stimuli. Not a word, not a clue. No way to know if it’s an argument about him or with him.

And in his mind their distress stands as yet another sign. Just another slice of proof that they truly are at their happiest without him, that his continued existence only serves as a complication. He can’t deny it anymore. He can’t lie, can’t tiptoe around the inevitable truth; like this, he’s nothing but a liability. A ticking time bomb, set to shatter everything and everyone in his path. Shaking like a leaf, he unfurls his fists, watching as the dull pink hide overtakes the last clear patches of flesh upon his misshapen, monstrous fingers.

They’re better off without you.

The passing seconds cease to exist as he convulses again, this time centralized at the base of the spinal column. He doubles over, leans into the pain. Rides it through vertebrae by vertebrae, raking his claws deep into the wood floor as a fifth limb emerges from where the spine left off, steadily lengthening— fortifying itself with jagged crystalline spikes as it grows ever longer. Its weight is entirely foreign, yet it shifts upon his slightest command. Panic overruling all logic once more, he thrashes about, the tail swinging across the bathroom counter like a whip. His toothbrush, comb, and other various toiletries he hasn't made use of in days clatter to the floor, abandoned.

R u n.

The thought rampages through his shattered soul like an avalanche. Yanks him by the horns. Consumes his mind and body like a trance. He has to escape from here, from the house, the Gems, has to run quick, before it’s too late and you can’t do anything more but wordlessly scream.

He doesn’t stop to question this impulse. Doesn’t stop to peer at that poor tortured creature in the mirror again. For a moment his claws struggle to grasp the crumpled door knob, fumbling in failure’s wake.

When he finally forces the door open, the whole world holds its breath.

Pearl’s eyes blow wide upon the no-doubt horrifying sight. Her hands fly to her mouth. “Steven?!”

Even Amethyst reacts in an adverse manner, stepping back towards the support of the wall. “Holy...” she breathes, face paling.

And just knowing he’s out here now, every gnarled, nightmarish feature exposed in front of his family like a raw nerve, makes his blotchy, spot-covered skin crawl.

“DON’T LOOK AT ME, I’m FINE!” he hollers as he sprints to the warp pad, barbed tail whipping wildly behind him. Pearl yelps in alarm as she only barely dodges its mace-like swing. Unable to hold back his sobs anymore, he collapses to his knees on the hard crystal. Coils his tail around himself by sheer instinct. Hides his face away behind arms. Hot tears spill from his eyes, vision blurring and sharpening in rhythm to the unbearable ache pounding in his head. “I’m fine,” he whispers pathetically, voice catching.

He can practically feel the vibrations through the floor as someone approaches. It’s Garnet. He doesn’t know how he knows, but it can only be her. His breath hastens against his better wishes. Can’t stop, won’t stop, can’t stop... The vision of the temple door begins to pirouette in dizzy circles around him as he arches his back, and with a sharp gasp feels something tear its way through his shirt and jacket right above his spine, all jagged and spiked and— NO! He grinds his jaw together, shrinking further into himself. Not real. It’s not real, not real, not—

“Steven,” she says in a measured tone as he heaves for air. (No, with hesitation. Fear. She’s hesitating because she’s afraid of you, she’s afraid because you’re a monster NO.) “I know you’re hurting, but I need you to take a deep breath with me, and try to calm down. Please, let us help you...”

A heart wrenchingly familiar hand reaches out to him, adorned by a ruby gem and a golden wedding band. His fingers clamp around thick, greasy curls, brushing against the horns protruding from his temples. A keening cry slips out from his mouth against his better wishes. They want to help. They only want to help...

He peeks at her through the crook of his arm, his most likely reddened, blotchy eyes meeting hers. She’s taken off her visor. She’s crying too.

For a glimmer of a second, he considers reaching out. Taking her offered hand with his own clawed one. But then...

Haven’t you been a burden enough already?

His face screws up, and his hands clench into fists.

“NO,” he shouts, slamming them down upon the warp pad. It activates, (blessedly still accessible at this early stage of corruption NO don’t think about it!!), glowing a bright cyan as he envisions where he wants to go: no particular destination in his mind but away, away, away.

After all, he already knows he’s a monster.

So... he might as well become one too.

_____

Notes:

Some days you just gotta have an entire mental breakdown and go full wyrm, y'hear?

HCs I tapped into for this fic:

After being healed, formerly cracked Gems take longer to reform than Gems who were only poofed. Peridot will be okay eventually, she just hasn’t reformed quite yet.

Steven is still able to warp because he hasn’t quite passed the threshold of corruption that prevents a Gem from accessing the warp stream. I imagine it's very much a matter of mental connection, and having the right presence of mind to tap into it. Probably a few minutes after this, if Steven were to continue going downhill and his mind fully fell into the fog of corruption, he’d no longer be able to warp. He got super lucky here.

This potential future blindsided Garnet because previously- like how Steven’s newfound maturity threw her off as discussed in Pool Hopping- she hadn’t factored in the idea of Steven being in such a low mental state. Amethyst was the first to really see past his attempts to mask it because she personally had dealt with depression like this before and knew what it looked like.

Maybe one day after SUF airs I'll write more on this topic, but as for now this will remain a one-shot. I 100% imagine Steven would ultimately be okay in this timeline, though. They'd be able to help him, stop the corruption. Steven goes to heckin' therapy. He'll live on, he'll begin to recover and cope. But that's a whole 'nother story.

Thank you for reading!

[funfuntrunks]

Hello, thanks for adding me as a friend!

Since i got an ask and i need to ask people who reblogged my post... And i want to know you more...

Maybe can you list 5 things that make you happy?

Also, you can ask this question to the 5 people who reblogged your post too.

I've done this recently actually!

However.

This isn't going to stop me from doing it again. 5 MORE things that make me happy! Again, I'm probably gonna skip out on spreading however if you see this and want to do it you can just say I sent you lolol

1) Making really dumb and stupid edits, but putting too much work into them. These two are some of my favorites

(For more context, the edit on the first image is that Dark Choco Cookie is supposed to be on the left side instead of the right)

2) Cure Summer!! She's such a nice character, I relate to her a lot in terms of impulsiveness and energy

3) Very casual video games... I'm so sorry guys but I'm not the most epic gamer out there.......................... I really like Slime Rancher, it's so much fun + I recently got a mod that lets me play with friends!! Even if I'm not exploring with them, just tending to all the slimes in the ranch is fun and I could do it for hours. In fact once I think I played for the entire day

Also Cookie Run, good luck getting me to shut up abt that

4) I love flowers! I got some growing and I water them every day!! They're very pretty and seeing the fruits (or uh. Blooms? Petals?) of my labor makes me really happy

5) Drawing has actually been really enjoyable for me now that I'm using a bit of a newer, looser style! I feel like I'm sort of slipping back into an anime-lite style now that I'm drawing a lot of anime characters, but I think I just need more time to see how things develop........ I want to draw more full pieces with lineart like my Scorpion Cookie fanart!

[twinkluffy]

fanfics for quarantine with α!katsuki x Ω!izuku.

Hiya, my fellows shippers. I know quarantine is being hard to everyone for different reasons but i hope you can stay safe at home. If you have to be outside for work or to work with/for people, thank you so much for your hard work and it is deeply appreciated. 

In this occasion it’s my pleasure to bring you all a fanfic recommendation list of Alpha/Omega KatsuDeku that i loved on AO3. So buckle up, gather everything you need for this wild ride because this gonna be a long post and this just the first part, sisters. Friendly reminder that every person writes their own rules for their omegaverse. It goes without saying that most of this post is+18 rated filth (and i did let out some nasty things that would make most of you don’t hold a face to face conversation with me without kinkshaming me) but even with that the sexual content is gonna have a bolded +18 beside the tittle; and as the old saying goes: read the damn tags on the fic, they are there for a reason.  

The links, rating, state and summary under the cut. Please, feel free to reblog and like or to come to my dms just to talk or ask for a type of fic in specific. I’ll post part 2 of this soon. 

drag me to the deeps of your heart (+18)  by halcyonwhispers [one shot, 5945 words // 1/2 from “The (im)proper way to an Alpha-Omega courtship” series ] 

Everyone presents on their 17th birthday, and while Katsuki has already (alpha, big fuckin’ shocker), he awaits his boyfriend’s presentation to finally get over the nonexistent (slight) curiosity over Izuku’s new rank. He can’t be an alpha, not crybaby, overthinking Deku. Anyways, both his parents are betas, and all that genetic and biology shit says Deku’s bound for that road. (he thinks)

Gravity (+18) by warschach [complete, 71477 words, 10 chapters]

Izuku is back in his hometown and plenty hasn't changed much from the 8 years he was gone. Except, Katsuki Bakugou, the alpha king of their small town. He's hotter- because that's fair, right, God? -, stronger, a now-famous pro fighter, and noticeably nicer this round. Not that he cares, pfft.

Ha, Izuku Midoriya caring about Katsuki Bakugou, thinking he's pretty cute and not half bad once you get past the asshole persona; though that gargantuan ego of his could take a dive off a very tall cliff. (Fine, he cares.)

what’s mine is mine (+18) by xenodickery [one shot, 5504 words // 1/3 from the “what’s mine is mine” series. Implied r*pe not related to the pair]

Bakugou watched, fists shaking in his lap, as someone pried open Midoriya's mouth and placed the pink tab on his tongue. An aphrodisiac. At least that's what they'd called it. A heat compellant.

Marshmallow by choimarie  [one shot, 3359 words // part of the 2k18 bakudeku week]

“Yo! Look at what we have here!” A voice said loudly and Izuku's heart stopped.

He turned around, his eyes widening. A group of six alphas was walking his way towards him.

What’s is this? The beginning of a porn0? (+18) by JijiHadidnt [2 chapters, 4625 words]

“Did somebody order a pizza?”

“What is this? The beginning of a porno?”

“Shut up Nerd just let me in.”

Izuku and Bakugou handle their argument over celebrity crushes in an interesting way.

A nest for the best by Camellia_Sinensis [one shot, 1007 words // Part of the “dorks in love” series] 

Deku’s been nesting and asking everyone in 1-A for pieces of clothing for his horde. Everyone, that is, except Katsuki. Cue the jealousy.

where i feel you the most (+18) by shousanki [one shot,3899 words]

In which Katsuki comes 1) to terms with Izuku's screwy biology almost as unpredictable as the person himself, and 2) down Izuku's warm and willing throat.

the last dragon-blood king (+18) by claimedbydaryl [complete, 13 chapters, 107.009 words]

Katsuki Bakugou was the alpha heir to a forgotten throne, reigning lord and warden of the Fyre Isles, a famed warrior of vicious repute in the Western Seas, and he would be wed to Izuku Midoriya by the day’s end.

Project: heat (+18) by ellslane  [one shot, 2914 words]

Katsuki can do this. He can control himself around Deku, who’s scent has spiked in sweetness and is dripping in pheromones. He can maintain his composure as they work together on a school project. He can keep himself in check as his stupid smell wafts through the air, and directly into his nose.

He can’t do this.

Dessert before dinner (+18) by Morpheel [one shot, 3473 words] 

Ground Zero has his work cut out for him as of late.

Between his increased Hero workload, and a pregnant mate at home, there's very little time to slow down and "smell the roses", as they say. He's too busy fighting the rampant crime rate going wild throughout the city without their Pillar of Justice on duty for 9 months. Yet leave it up to Izuku to find his own way in squirming some quality time in before Katsuki's shift.

Emergency contact (+18) by SurelyHeavenWaits [one shot, 3753 words]

There are some things in life that a person would like to know in advance:

weather forecasts, patrol schedules, patrol routes, being listed as an ERC for the person they've secretly loved for most of their life. Pro Hero Deku knew three of these things at the start of his shift.

Blonde haired bunnies (+18) by morpheel [one shot, 5194 words]

In an attempt to create a new genetic pattern in the Rabbit-Hybrid Gene, Izuku Midorya is paired with a very strange (and almost unorthodox) stud. The end goal is blonde haired, red eyed rabbits- though only one Alpha truly fits that bill.

Surely a wolf and a rabbit can't breed?

Late mornings (+18) by Oilux [one shot, words]

When Deku arrives, late for class, panting, red stained cheeks, every alpha in the class staring at him with open want, Bakugo only has one thought crossing his mind.

He’s mine.

Vitality in postpartum (+18) by ellslane [one shot,2989 words]

Katsuki can tell his husband has been dealing with his image after giving birth to their precious boy, and he's hellbent on making Izuku see the perfection he sees. Happy husband, happy life, after all.

Box (+18) by SurelyHeavenWaits [one shot, 3028 words]

On a stakeout for a villain with what's been reported as a lust-inducing Quirk, Pro Heroes Ground Zero and Deku find themselves boxed into a dire situation.

I’m so glad i found my mate today by kittiegirl1616 [oneshot, 2123 words]

Pro-Hero Ground Zero has captured a villain when he senses his mate is nearby.

whatever you’ve done, just bury (+18) it by ikvros [complete, 3 chapters, 18.593 words]

He knows how Katsuki thinks, talks, and fights. He knows how he sleeps, how he eats, how he loves, and how he leaves. And he knows what knows what it means for Katsuki to come back; has washed the evidence from the sheets countless times, scrubbed the scent of him off his skin in the morning until it’s as red and raw as his heart.

Their home (+18) by Veradiciy [one shot, 2694 words] 

There was nothing wrong with parking the car inside their garage. Nothing wrong with turning off the ignition and locking the car while still inside. Not even when the sensory light of the garage had went out a minute later to leave darkness at its wake. Having sex comes naturally between a mated couple like Bakugou and Midoriya in the late night during the start of Midoriya's heat.

Please scent me by fleurown [one shot, words]

In which Deku needs a quick favor at a party and Katsuki can't deny such a cute face.

eternity by PepeermintLeo [one shot, 9.724 words]

Izuku was Kacchan’s partner, in every sense of the word. He ruled right next to Kacchan’s side, an alpha and an omega, leading Kacchan’s tribe against all sorts of odds. As well as his romantic partner, steady and solid by his side but giving when emotions called for it.

Uncertainty by SuperiorDragonLord [one shot, 5129 words]  

Izuku was getting worried. After a particularly rough rescue mission, Katsuki had yet to even have a full conversation with him. Tensions are running high and Izuku is starting to get tired of walking around on eggshells. When he finally decides to confront Katsuki about it things take a direction he hadn't been prepared for.

Devil in me (+18) by glamour_weebs [oneshot, 1699 words]

Katsuki's usually the one getting into fights over Deku when they go to the club, but this time, his Omega's the one that starts a fight over him, but he doesn't stop there. Deku's determined to mark his territory.

if you can’t find the moning light, i’m here tonight by yabakuboi [oneshot, 3488 words]

Katsuki was never sure what happened to his childhood friend, quirkless Izuku who had presented as an omega and was whisked away to a traditional matchmaking house. Katsuki never saw him again after that, and tried to convince himself it was for the best. Many lonely years pass before he finds Izuku in the last place he ever wanted to, in the middle of a battlefield with a child clutching to his shirt.

Earned it (+18)by Morpheel [one shot, 6038 words]

Because within the illumination of lantern light stood a brothel’s worth of Omegas, all in various states of disarray, giggling and washing themselves without a care in the world to the army in their path.

Bakugou’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Say it again by susurrxus [one shot, 7153 words // Part of the (incomplete) “Mina Ashido approve of this ship” series] 

Katsuki discoveres he doesnt quite oppose to being called Daddy... nor does he oppose to abusing his Omega until he's a sobbing whore on the teachers desk.

[bawkrya]

ok so im just gonna pick at fr from a web designer pov because looking at this site on mobile will drive me into madness if they don’t fix it at some point. The rest of this post will go under a read more because it’s both super long and image heavy.

before i hit mobile though, I’m going to point out some things i just don’t personally like in general with the site design (and yes i am conscious that they are slowly updating to a new look)

this will come as a shock to no one, if you’ve seen previous web design related posts by others anyways, but i cant. stand this menu

[ID: A cropped screenshot of Flight Rising’s Main Menu]

fr, understandably, has a shit ton of links. it’s a petsite with lore and all that, whatever. The thing that bothers me specifically is the length of links and where some are placed.

1. i BELIEVE this counts as an accessibility issue where longer links kinda trap shorter links, goes into misclicks to other pages in the site, etc. etc.  2. i don’t think. the search link should be under library personally ? Maybe make it its own category. 

Dev Tracker & Media could go under this category, possibly add separate links to forum, player, and dragon searches with updated formatting

Dressing Room and Scrying Workshop could go under the “Play” category 

Forums can be it’s own category with possible subcategories being: Announcements & News, Help Center, and Flight specific discussion forum, maybe more 

Library category could then just be: Which Waystone, World Map, Game Database, and Encyclopedia.

Support should be it’s own category.

One thing on the shop category, and i hesitate to say this because im not CONFIDENT on this one, but I’m not sure Custom Skins exactly fits? or at least, it should be Purchase Gems -> Marketplace -> Custom Skins, not between crossroads and festive favors

Merch should probably go under purchase gems, and they should maybe uhh..... i guess change the name for it overall? because 1. “merch” alone does NOT look good with its placement, 2. its another actual money purchase thing and I think those should go on the same page

Along with that, in putting merch under that page, they could put previews of the merch with a button to go purchase instead of immediately going to their merch site (which to begin with it should open in a new tab if its going to a separate site?!!)

then this is a mix of both not liking it on laptop OR mobile, 

[ID: A cropped image of Flight Rising’s Clan Home page. The Bestiary link has a bright red box highlighting it]

Obviously these pages are old, but the graphics need to be updated, and there needs to be graphics for every link in the category-- seeing with this category alone there isn’t a graphic for the Bestiary already. On top of this they need to be in link order preferably. if they had a normal dropdown menu for mobile, mobile users wouldn’t be able to access the bestiary unless FR wanted to be STUPID and do further dropdown menus w their 200 links which would be STUPID and CLUTTERED

also in my opinion the Messages link isn’t necessary since we have the button at the top. If they put it there as an excuse for accessibility, they can just. add text to the buttons. like here’s a scuffed mockup but. 

[ID: Screenshot of Flight Rising’s Messages, Friend Requests, and Alerts icons edited to have Messages, Friends, and Alerts written next to the icons]

for the friends tab, they could prolly add friend requests at the top like they do for baldwin alerts, then have an online status thing for friends below with buttons to PM, trade, delete friend, etc. I think you’re already able to disable the online status thing with page visibility? but like, make those options separate if you dont wanna block off your entire page, but dont want to be seen online.

For mobile, they can just make the icons bigger.

then. i THINK. last thing on laptop site. 

[ID: A screenshot of Flight Rising’s Social Media links with old Logos to YouTube, Tumblr, Reddit, Twitter, Facebook, and DeviantArt]

update these fucking icons they are personally killing me, none of these logos are in use anymore (ALSO UPDATE THE TUMBLR THEME JESUS CHRIST)

ok now for mobile. what this post was originally for.

-

as you all know, if you visit this site on mobile, there is literally no form of a mobile version for it. It is just a condensed version of the computer version of the site which is...Very Bad! 

Most of a sites visitors are going to be through mobile, i forget the exact percentage, but like it’s almost a given that people more readily have their phones with them than their laptop or tablet (which. im not going to bother with the tablet version, you can apply both computer and mobile criticisms to the site). in fact a lot of my time on FR is through mobile since I’m not at home 24/7 and I don’t tote my laptop around. Playing this game through it’s mobile site is Not Fun! 

I like, won’t be too pissy or anything bc like. it’s a petsite and I’m making this post for fun. but also like it was made in 2014? 2013? so I’m not going to be u kno. angry. but it nearing the point of ten years with this site and there still isn’t a mobile friendly version. that is lazy. If anything, if they wanted a site update to be the anniversary thing, they should’ve made that update be

Mobile update as primary thing, because designing the site for mobile is a shit ton of work with the amt of pages they have to work through.

Dragon Profile page update (*LOUD SIGH*)

Clan page update

Hoard update (i have thoughts on this too but i wont dive into it this post)

Purchase Gems page update

Dev Tracker update

Forums update

“but that’s a lot to update” well. that wouldve made the anniversary being a website update considerably more worth it, because in my opinion having the dragon profile pages be the ONLY thing to happen during the anniversary was a waste and a bad decision, because other website updates are just. normal whatever updates. it made the anniversary SUPER underwhelming especially bc the past ones (to my knowledge) have only been major game mechanic updates like the eye & ancients update and i believe? the color wheel expansion was an anniversary thing? someone can correct me on that I haven’t played this game as long as most LMAO

as for how i personally would situate the mobile site. shitty graphic time, bc im not putting too much effort into this (warning this will be LONG)

[ID: Image 1. A crudely put together screenshot of the top half of a Mobile View of Flight Rising with comments on either side. It ends with the Latest News segments “Riot of Rot” and “Hoard & Vault Revamp”

Comment 1, Left side: “no banner make it a solid color that matches the burger menu. size the logo correctly etc. Comment 2, Right side: “burger menu w ONLY the categories, goes to the homepages of the categories” Comment 3, Right side: “TWO latest news posts, maybe a button to go see earlier news (which may b something to add to comp too)” Comment 4, Right side: “center dates and comments maybe idfk”

At the bottom of the image there is an added “button” that says “more updates button”]

[ID: Image 2. The bottom half of the mobile view with comments on the left side. There is a put together white box that has the Plague Flight Logo and “plage dom !” written in it. Below it are the Site Status, Random Dragon, and Exalt Bonuses boxes from the site. Underneath that is a red box with “ad space” in the center, with a red footer at the bottom.

The footer contains, “social media! (specifally made icons for site)”, “better formatted links”, and “copyright”.

Comment 1: “idk what they would caption it but the flashy can go here.” Comment 2: “ONE site status update if they keep this format” Comment 3: “probably center these links. i dont know what they use to build the site but im sure you can make icons for social media on just about anything unless this is all handcoded. just. make small icons it takes two seconds and you can copy+paste”]

i dont even want to THINK about how the lair and all that would look on mobile, it was a chore doing the home page alone SOBS

anyways, in ref to these images though--

this is just slapped together and definitely wouldn’t be a final draft, it could use some tweaking

the flashy i refer to is the box that’s above the user box that says what flight is in dom, what festival is going on, etc.

when i mention building the site and “you can make icons for social media on just about anything” im referring to wordpress, wix, whatever is used to format the site. I really only have experience with wordpress thru elementor and divi (so far) so im not CERTAIN about other places but I feel it would be pretty common to have that tool. if not, making icons (or snatching some) is rlly not that hard, probably only costly depending on what their webdesigner(s) charge for icons

I’m not like certain on who does what, how the webdesigner(s) work with/price this site, etc. etc. this is just. going off of my own knowledge. and in general this whole post is my own knowledge abt shit i did no further research to FRs team specifically 

i think this is basically it, i’ll reblog with more if i think of anything, but feel free to add things yourself or in general discuss things. again this post was made for fun so im not taking it seriously or demanding for these changes to be made, just personal annoyances and preferences.

This is also my first time doing picture IDs for a post so if I need to correct anything or the like let me know and I’ll edit it in the post!

[all1e23]

Heart & Soul [One-shot]

Title: Kitties & Bumps

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky acts like a dope, but a cute dope. 

Warnings: Pure fluff.

A/N:  ONLY READ THIS If YOU FINISHED THE SERIES. It will give away the ending if not. ;-) Nothing special. I just missed these two. 

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam though! Thanks!*

Heart & Soul Masterlist

“Stardust?” Bucky called out the moment his boot his the wood floor of their foyer. 

“‘Mega where are you at?” 

Bucky took the stairs two at a time, panic setting in his chest. Y/n had texted him while he was on a call saying she wasn't feeling right and couldn’t wait for him to get home. The second he saw the message Bucky lost all sense of reason and any and all rational thinking was out of the window when he forced Sam to drive him home in the middle of their shift. 

Y/n was laying on their bed, Gemini laying on her swollen stomach purring contently as she rubbed behind the kitty's ears. Her eyes went wide the moment Bucky appeared in the doorway to their room, he wasn’t supposed to be home for hours. The look on his face had her worried something happened to Sam or someone else in their makeshift family. 

“Bucky!? What are you doing?”

“What am I doing here?” He asked as if she should already know the answer. The Alpha wandered around the side of their bed and put his hand on her belly, glaring at the hissing cat before settling a softer, sweeter gaze on his wife.

“You text me. You said you were feeling off. I called into the station and made you an appointment with the doc.”

Y/n really tried not to but she couldn’t help the laughter that spilled out. “Oh, my sweet Alpha. Of course, I feel off. I’m heavily pregnant and your daughter is sitting on a lung I think, ” She sighed, her voice filled with humor.

“Sitting on a lung?” He asked, eyes wide and panicked. “That’s not good! What if you can’t breathe?”

“Alpha,” Y/n chuckled. 

“I’m talking to you. I think I can breathe just fine if I’m holding a conversation. I don’t need to go to the doctor. I just need cuddles, hm?” She held her arms out and made grabby hands for him to come and lay with her.

Bucky shook his head, “No, we’re going to the doctor.”

“But-”

“Omega.” His voice dropped just enough to make her shiver and almost immediately he regretted it.  

“Just listen, please? I know I’m probably being crazy but, I - Let me be nuts, okay?” She stared at him with her brow raised and his shoulders slumped. 

“I’m sorry I used the voice. I didn’t mean to! I’m a little on edge. You can yell at me tonight and I’ll make dinner to make it up to you.”

Y/n smiled and held her hands out for Bucky to help her up, Gemini quickly jumping off her belly due to Bucky’s proximity. She slowly sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, gingerly getting to her feet.

“The damn cat shouldn’t be laying on your stomach.” Bucky griped and she rolled her eyes in response.

“She barely weighs anything. It’s fine, buck.” Y/n waddled her way to the closet where her boots were sitting, ready for her to slip on with ease. Bucky narrowed his eyes at the cat and the stupid cat narrowed her eyes right back as she stretched her claws into his pillow, pulling at the fabric and stuffing. 

“I’m gonna toss you out the damn window you keep it up,” Bucky growled at the cat.

“What was that, Buck?”

“Nothing,” He said a little too quickly for Y/n’s liking. 

“Let’s go. I don’t want you on your feet too long.” He walked towards her with this... look and she just knew he was going to try to pick her up and carry her down the stairs. This was getting out of control! She grabbed his hands when Bucky got within in reach and he frowned in response.

“What?”

“You’re not serious right now, are you? Oh my god. You are.  James Buchanan Barnes! I can walk down the stairs!” 

“I just don’t want you to get hurt!” He defended. “At least walk in front of me so I can catch you if you slip-”

“Get downstairs before I make you sleep on the couch.”

Bucky sighed heavily as he made his way to the stairs like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs. He’s one hundred percent certain that damn cat snickered at him.

----------

“Okay, what do we have happening today?” Dr. Blake asked upon entering the examination room. “I hear there was… some complications?” 

He met Y/n’s eyes over the chart and she could see the hint of humor glimmering in them. Bucky stood next to his Omega, holding her hand tightly in his left hand and his right sitting protectively over her bump. Y/n went to open her mouth but Bucky spoke up before she had the chance. “She was feeling really off and our cat was sleeping on her stomach. I can get rid of the cat if necessary.”

Y/n looked over at Dr. Blake and gave him an apologetic smile, subtly shrugging one shoulder.

“Well, let’s just see what’s going on.”

He sat down wheeling his stool over to her bedside across from Bucky and pulled the ultrasound machine over to the side of the bed, amused grin still on his face as he locked eyes with Y/n. 

“Okay, how about we take a look? See how cute the little peanut is today?”

Over the last seven months, their doctor has become well versed with just how overprotective her Alpha was. He’s not the only overprotective Alpha the doctor has to deal with though. Just came with the job. She looked over at Bucky and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “You’re gonna have to move your hand if you want to see our baby girl.”

Bucky grumbled something under his breath and slowly pulled his hand away but stood up to his full height, towering over the doctor and it only made Y/n shake her head. He watched every single thing Dr. Blake was doing. He knew, knew he was being crazy, but the Alpha part of his brain was in overdrive. As he has always said, biology was a bitch.

Dr. Blake pulled up her shirt just enough to leave her baby bump visible ignoring the glaring Alpha standing over him. He pulled a bottle off the side of the cart and held it up for Y/n to see, giving it a little shake with an apologetic smile. She knew what he meant. It was about to get cold. She smiled in return but still let out a gasp when the cold gel hit her belly.

Bucky, however, wasn’t laughing.

His eyes were quickly slipping from blue to red and there was a soft growl coming from his chest. They went through this every time they came in for an appointment.

“Alpha?” Y/n squeaked from his side.

Bucky’s head immediately snapped towards her, red faded back to cool blue and the hard Alpha melted away the moment his eyes landed on hers. She was never going to get tired of watching the way he melted for her, from only his title slipping from her lips. If Tony ever asked, she would never ever admit that he was right all those years ago but she was absolutely the one in control.  

“Let him do his job.” She purred softly, bringing his hand up to her lips and placing a gentle kiss to his knuckles. “You know I’m perfectly safe with you here.”

He was so wrapped up in her sweet soft voice he didn’t notice their doctor already had the wand on her belly and had been taking pictures of their little girl.

“Want a sneak peek of the baby Barnes? She looks perfectly healthy and right on track.” Bucky turned his head just in time to the black and white image of their daughter on the screen and his worry was replaced with a huge grin. He slowly sat down next to his mate and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, placing a kiss to her temple as he tugged her shirt back down over her belly. Doc had seen enough if you’d ask Bucky.

“She’s gonna be cute isn’t she Alpha?” Y/n asked.

“Beautiful like her momma.”

Dr. Blake excused himself and gave the pair a moment alone. He knew, as well as Y/n, that this visit was more for Bucky than it was for her or the baby. She could feel the small movements and it helped give her a bit of peace when she had a moment of panic, but Bucky didn’t have that reassurance all the time and after everything they have been through, he had every right to worry over his girls. It would all calm down once she was there in their arms and he could see with his own eyes that everything was alright.

Or so she was telling herself.

“I’m sorry I’m being all… Alpha.” He sighed and let his cheek rest on top of her head, eyes stuck to the screen. “I can’t help it. I don’t want anything to happen to the two of you. What would my nights look like if I lost all my stars, huh?”

Y/n smiled and tightened her hold on his hand. “We aren’t going anywhere. You don’t have to explain anything to me. Ever. No more worries today though. She’s just fine. Look at her.”

“Yeah, I know.” He kissed the top of her head. “I guess we should get Doc back in here so I can say sorry for being a knothead.”

“You do this every appointment,” Y/n deadpanned. “I think he knows the drill by now. Glare. Growl. Apologize.”

“Smartass,” Bucky mumbled. “Oh! He didn’t say if having a cat was okay.”

“Buck, lots of people have cats while they are pregnant.”

“I can get rid of her easy peasy, stardust. I’m sure someone would want a cat that destroys everything they own.”

“Alpha! You are pushing your luck today!

[thrushpot]

Five and Nine dearie! ;)

since you asked about all my stories, I have around 13-ish so this is basically a giant commentary for everything:)🤘🏼😃

hidden in plain sight

what part was hardest to write?

The fucking letters, jesus christ. I thought, ‘hey, wouldnt it be fun to have Billy’s point of view with him reading what she admires about him and make it super lovey dovey and sweet?’ and I almost gave up so many times cause fuck it was hard. Took over a week with switching the wording around and finding what flowed best. Also finding what didn’t sound creepy.

were there alternate versions to this fic?

Nah, I mean I could’ve had their places switch, where he’s the one that writes to her... but I loved writing him feel all blushy and giddy over someone thinking of him like that.

look what you’ve done

what part was hardest to write?

After the fight and the ignoring and all that pent up anger being released, there was an awkward moment with all this tension between the two in her room - that was challenging for sure. Cause he was being a piece of shit and he himself knew it, she knew it, everybody knew it. But what took some thinking was to be able to show the guy he was before the fight and his insecurities getting the best of him.

were there alternate versions of this fic?

I dabbled with a lot of reasons why they’d fight, but Billy as a person is just sensitive and insecure and him seeing something like that, no matter how innocent or short the exchange could’ve been in reality with her and some nameless stranger could still set him off and trigger the monster he’s got hidden inside. I can’t remember other scenarios I had thought of but that one stuck to me.

sixteen

what part was hardest to write?

The relationship felt natural, like I could hear all the conversations they’ve had and seen everything they’d done together, I really really liked that dynamic but one stupid small part that killed me was writing the douchey boyfriend lol. Ultimately it’s such an insignificant part, so I scrapped any further drama with him and his deal because the story wasn’t supposed to be about him; it was supposed to be about her and Billy, their past, how it affected them both when they saw each other again after so long.

were there alternate versions of this fic?

None actually! I had it in my mind right off the bat that I wanted him to be nervous and caught off guard for once. like I said in the commentary for this, I know his personality, I know he’s quite used to thinking/believing he’s the most powerful in the room but I wanted that to change for this instance, and I strayed away from having him be untouchable or macho in any way.

whipped

what part was hardest to write?

THE KIDS. I’ve never ever written them before, and I even debated watching a few episodes before tackling it.... but I didn’t and I think I pulled it off alright. I loved their humor. I knew Dustin was always being a paranoid goofball, Lucas as the same without all the anxiety or nerdy interests, Mike as impatient and pessimistic, and Will as being very quiet. So yeah, I overcame that doubt and just did what I thought felt right.

were there alternate versions to this fic?

I thought a lot about what movie they’d watch - like a rom com would’ve been pretty funny too, but I had to have him tease and scare the kids so I made their movie of the night thing be Nightmare on Elm Street😂

punch-drunk love

what was the hardest part to write?

A lot of this flowed easy and generally wasn’t stressful at all. Describing him as a fun drunk was a blast. Thinking of what he would he say if he had no filter and felt on top of the world. I can’t think of anything that I was held back by this time, it all came out in just a couple hours when I should’ve been sleeping lol.

were there alternate versions to this fic?

When I was brainstorming by myself I thought it would just be more smutty and desperate or even a little more sad. I had it planned that she’d reject him initially, but then I got an ask that changed the game and I’m really proud of how it turned out.

naive

what part was hardest to write?

I hardly went over it or stressed much other than tweaking a few details, but plot was pretty self explanatory - I think the most difficult part to write was all the possible ways there could’ve been scenarios where he could’ve mislead her

were there any alternate versions of this fic?

I almost wanted to write them in class but thought him on lifeguard duty would’ve been more engaging and had a lot more to go off of

old habits die hard

what part was hardest to write?

Literally everything. every. single. PART about writing people have sex is challenging, omg. Foreplay....down to kissing.....then down to actually fucking, I got red the whole time. Especially after posting it I’d almost pissed myself ‘cause it’s so nerve wracking putting smut out there holy christ.

were there alternate versions to this fic?

I wanted to get into their marriage and relationship but.... tbh I thought everyone would just skip it and get to the good stuff. So yeah there was probably an almost started version on my phone where I had backstory on how he proposed and all but thought no one would care too much lol.

obstacle 1

what part was hardest to write?

Hurt/comfort is a little challenging when you wanna do it differently. I wanted to sway away from her being this perfect female caregiver that knows exactly what to say and what to do cause that’s just so hard to picture when it comes to real life and all, not that I’m mixing fiction and life it’s just sometimes hard to believe that every girl is perfect at taking care of a guy breaking down.

were there alternate versions to this fic?

Nothing too different, I reasoned in my head how he’d get into trouble cause there are infinite ways Billy could’ve fucked up but.... stealing chocolate is pretty funny and juvenile, and he knew it too, but he’d absolutely still get his ass whooped anyway.

playing hooky

what part was hardest to write?

I found it hard to know what they’d do after she got blasted, cause.....what would two teenagers do in a small town skipping school? Also easily taking personal experience for her snapping and getting tired of her careful image cause everybody had these impossibly high expectations for her, but what they’d get up to doing that was ‘illegal’ that they could get arrested for took some time to think about.

were there alternate versions to this fic?

At first I pictured them maybe like breaking in somewhere they weren’t supposed to, hence the ‘we could get arrested’ line, but skinny dipping was my favorite pitch.

thick as thieves

what part was hardest to write?

The ending gave me a tough time, I had to think whether or not if I’d forgive someone for doing that shit to me. It’s happened before, to everybody and myself, the pains of drifting apart and the jealousy that comes with seeing them blossom and become social butterflies, the joys of being in high school... Oh and I’m still working on another part:)

were there alternate versions of this fic?

I dabbled with lots of ideas but I knew I wanted two friends growing apart, a push/pull between their relationship...I don’t remember what else I had planned that I ditched.

the craft (1996)

what part was hardest to write?

Maybe the love spell part. I wanted to write it as severe and dramatic as possible, and really show how desperate and gone he was.

were there alternate versions to this fic?

Hmm, I based this off the film and it does show a lot more about the girl group besides the love spell bit, but I wanted it to focus on that cause it was more interesting fucking with Billy. I liked how dark both the movie and the fic was

in utero

what part was hardest to write?

My obstacle with this one was creating this female Billy in my head, which to me was basically a flawed, outrageous, outgoing/promiscuous high school girl who makes a mistake. Writing him pining was definitely enjoyable, and him practicing his lines on how he’d say how he felt and stuff. The wording was switched around a ton, but I’m fairly happy with it. It’s not perfect, he stutters and trails off because he’s nervous, but in it’s own way I think it’s a perfect display of an insecure guy summoning up any courage he has and trying to shoo away any doubt.

were there alternate versions to this fic?

Oh man, tons of ideas came to my head with this one. I wondered if maybe she could’ve never gotten ‘rid’ of ‘it’ and then they run off in the sunset, raise ‘it’ together.... Billy maturing and finding a home with their own family. BUT the reason I chose the path she took was because she’s just a kid, fresh from high school, had no idea what she was gonna do with no money other than visit her best friend. I think she knew she didn’t want it and couldn’t stand the guy who put her in this position, so she ran.

— so there it all is, kudos to you if you actually read this far down and to anyone who has reblogged or commented on any of these.... THANKYOU🖤🥰✨

And especially thanks to Haiden cause you’re the best

[shawnpetermuffins]

Pictured with You (xi.)

A/n: I literally hate this chapter with everything I have but like okay. It had potential and then my depressed ass wrote this.

Summary: and suddenly Brian has become your middle man.

Warning: just trash writing and it's told in both POVs

Word count: 1.7k (it's really short I'm sorry!!!!)

***

"Dude, you literally suck at this game!" Brian exclaims as I throw the controller on the small table in front of us. "That's the fourth one in a row."

I roll my eyes, "Yeah, I know."

"Another round?" He asks, shrugging his shoulders.

I just shake my head, "I don't think I'm feeling it anymore, bud."

Brian nods and turns the TV off. "Well what are you in the mood for? You want to go to the gym? Or we could go around town and try to find different coffee shops."

I'm scrolling through my Twitter feed while he talks, not really interested in any of the suggestions that he's putting out there.

"Or we could ignore our best friend who is trying to get your mind off whatever's still going on. That's cool too." He claps my shoulder and I sigh, locking my phone.

"I'm sorry, Bri. I just can't stop thinking about that night."

"Dude, what happened there anyway? By the time I got to the dressing room, she was already yelling at you. Nobody's really talked about it after that. We're probably all just scared she'll snap at us the way she did at Andrew. So we don't ask."

I furrow my brows. She did what? "It's too long a story. I really don't want to get into all the details of it. It was bad and I fucked up immensely. It just wasn't at all what I planned."

"Well give me the gist of it. What was this thing about six months?"

I groan and hold my head in my hands, trying to figure out how much I can tell him, how much I can leave out. "Okay, so you already know that we had sex, what, two months ago now." I wait for confirmation even though I don't need to. "And I mean, things were weird for a few weeks after that. Even though they shouldn't have been. We could have been fine, but she left that morning and just stopped talking to me and I don't know - I mean, she told me why she did it, but I still don't understand. I don't understand what would be so wrong if we just started dating now. But she's adamant about not doing this on tour." I run my fingers through my hair. "But anyway, after the Boston show, I texted her and I just said that we should probably talk. So we did."

"Right, which is why you guys were finally able to sit at the same table again. Which, I'll be honest, made me happy. I missed hanging out with that girl."

"Yeah," I mumble. "Me too."

"But you guys were good for a few days. What happened?"

"Well, that night that we talked... she wasn't feeling well. So, we walked to the drugstore. Someone, somehow, caught us out and they took a picture. I don't know, I was kissing her forehead or something and it reached Andrew. He made it a big thing and told me how I can't have a girlfriend right now. Y/n tried to stand up for me, I realize that, by saying she wasn't my girlfriend. But I guess hearing her say it like that to someone other than me just flipped a switch. And I said something I shouldn't have."

"Which was?"

I grunt in frustration, throwing my head back in frustration. "She told Andrew she wasn't my girlfriend. I didn't mean for her to hear it, nor did I mean to say it. But I said something like 'yeah, you've really made sure of that, right?' And… well you caught it from there. She asked me to wait until tour was over and then we said we would try dating. But I've fucked up exceptionally. I wouldn't blame her if she never wanted to date me now."

"Shawn," he shakes his head and bites the inside of his cheek, no doubt searching for the right words. "You're right. What you did was messed up. But I don't think she's over you."

"She said she wouldn't be anything more than my photographer. She doesn't want me, Brian."

"Right now. She doesn't want the relationship right now. Give her time, man. Girls need that."

Yeah, because that's all she's asked of me and I didn't give it to her. "I hate not knowing how to fix this."

He sighs, "look, I know that these feelings have been brewing for a while, but are you sure it's not just a crush? I mean, you're a songwriter, man. You feel things intensely; this could just be a fling."

I shake my head vigorously. "No. No, it's not. I can't- Brian, I've never felt this before." I laugh despite myself. "I know it's gonna sound so crazy stupid, but she's the biggest paradox I've ever known. She's insecure about everything, but loves herself for everything she does. She's warm and comforting and there one minute, and the next acts like she doesn't care what I do. Some days we can spend hours talking about everything, and others I can't even get her to look my way. She confuses me in every goddamn possible way. But I do know this: no matter how fucked we both might be, I am incredibly, undeniably, incoherently, unfathomably in love with her. And… I don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to do about it now."

My best friend just sits there in silence, trying like hell to find something to say. But no words come out. Because there are no words left. Because there is nothing you can say to a person who is wholeheartedly in love with someone they can't have. You just have to let them be, and let their heart break when the time ultimately comes.

---

I've just finished putting all Shawn's photos onto a flash drive so I could clear my memory card when there's a knock at my door. I furrow my brows because Connor just left about twenty minutes ago, so it shouldn't be him. I just hope and pray that it isn't Shawn or Andrew while I walk to the door. The first thing I see when I look through the peep hole is red hair and I'm relieved.

"Brian, hi."

"Hey," he smiles sheepishly at me. "Can we talk for a second?"

I nod, "Sure. Come on in." I move to the side and he walks into the room, hands in his front pockets, making him appear much shorter than usual. "So, what's up?"

He clears his throat, "It's about you and Shawn."

I freeze. "Umm… o-okay."

I take a seat on the edge of the couch and Brian sits on the coffee table, hands clasped in front of him as he leans forward, elbows resting in his knees.

"I just, I want to know what's going on there. You two obviously have chemistry, it's almost laughable how good together you guys are together."

I feel my cheeks grow hot. "Thanks, I guess."

"What's keeping you away? Is it the fans? Because yeah, I know they're crazy, but you get used to it after a while. The shock of it all doesn't last that long."

"No," I shake my head, "it's not the fans. And its not Andrew, either." Even though it partially is.

"Well if it's not that then… Why aren't you with him?"

"I'd destroy him."

"He'd be into that."

I laugh, not believing that this is actually what Brian and I are talking about right now. "Brian, I'm not right for him. It doesn't matter how much I like him, We're too different."

"Are you?" He clears his throat, "Because I swear I have never seen any two people more perfect for each other. Your souls mesh together like nothing I've ever seen. You need to go for it, if it's what you want."

I shake my head, "It's too hard, Bri."

"Relationships are. But you're literally his photographer. You're always here to spend time with him. You're with him like twenty-four/seven, eight months out of the year."

"For now," I remind him.

It takes him a while, but I see it finally register on his face. "That's why you want to wait for tour to end."

I nod, crossing my arms over my chest. "Yeah."

"He's not going anywhere, you know."

"That's what he says," I look down at my feet. "But what does that matter? He can't stay in one place for long and… I can't ask him to do it, either. He'll eventually grow tired of doing the same old thing, being with the same person for so long. He needs excitement and movement, and I can't give that to him."

"Y/n, he's crazy about you. I've never in my life seen him so smitten with a girl. He would give up anything if it meant he could be with you."

"But I don't want him to give anything up. And I can't handle being in the spotlight. I take the pictures, Brian, I'm not in them. And if I start dating him, I'll see myself plastered everywhere. That's not what I want." I play with the hem of my shirt. "I want people to know my work. Not my relationship status."

"Okay, that's fair. But close your eyes, I want to try something."

I do as told and let out a deep breath through my nose.

"You and Shawn are walking down the street, you have your camera with you and he's got his arm around you. How do you feel?"

I smile at the image in my head, his large hand holding mine over my shoulder, lips against my forehead. My arm is draped around his torso and the sun is basking us in that golden hour light. It doesn't get better than that. "I'm… happy… I feel loved."

When he doesn't say anything for a while, I open my eyes to find him smiling at me. "And if you feel it from him in just your imagination, then how do you feel about him in real life?"

"God," I shake my head. "Do you really want to hear me say that I'm in love with him?"

"Yeah," he nods. "I did."

"Well, now you've heard it, but it doesn't change anything."

"It does," he starts walking toward the door.

"What?" I follow him. "How does it change -"

"Because he loves you too." And he disappears into the hallway, leaving me there staring blankly at the dark wood separating me and reality.

***

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[tarithenurse]

On my mind, in my soul - 13

Prompt:  Unfortunately, I’ve had no prompts that I was able to fit well with sorting the mess I’ve landed our heroine and Loki in. However, I heard a song which I think it’s going to help and a sister came up with the rest. This chapter’s prompts are as follow: “A little wicked” by Valerie Broussard, Bifrost , and a heart. Pairing: Loki x Burglar!reader. Content: Swearing as usual (I think), references to lovemaking, angst, sass, death threats, sadness, did I mention angst? We will get backer to happier days with citrussy goodness...eventually...maybe A/N: If you like, PLS reblog. Any comment is welcome! This chapter will probaably be the last untill I’ve handed in the paper on my BA project, sorry. Check out my masterlist in the meantime (can be found in bio)

Demanding

… Loki’s PoV   …

The hollow sound cuts through walls and bones, through Loki’s very soul as he jolts awake in the cell within the very foundations of the castle. A blue shimmer runs across his limbs, but the fallen prince is oblivious to it as every part of his brain analyzes the options of defense against whichever unknown enemy Odin’s two wolves are warning the kingdom about. The beasts rarely make a sound louder than a barking greeting but now…this has only happened once or twice before in all of history when the ruler of Asgard had been in peril.

[Y/N]. Despite the woman’s odd position as a Midgardian guest introduced by Loki, surely the Einherjar or at least Thor will see to it that she’s safe. If only she will listen to them.

… Reader’s PoV   …

No one calls you honey when you're sitting on a throne Beware the patient woman, cause this much I know

The heart’s thumping away rapidly in your chest as you see guard upon guard in gleaming armour line up in a circle all the way around the broad, golden throne where you’re sitting. At least the wolves have stopped howling, but it’s in favour of pacing the empty area between you and the spears that are lowered to point at you. Well, you try to assure yourself, it would’ve been too much to assume anything less. Still it’s with a certain apprehension that you accept which course your actions have set you upon.

“[Y/N],” Thor’s deep voice comes from somewhere behind you, “what are you doing?”

You don’t dare to turn around, to look for the face that you know will be radiating with confused concern. He’s taken kindly to you and it feels like you’re letting him down somehow. He’ll understand later. Keeping your head high and back straight, your eyes fix upon the gigantic door at the very end of the darkened throne room.

“Prince Thor,” you acknowledge, “is the king on his way?”

Coming around to stand before you, the blond god shoves one of the wolves unceremoniously out of his way, earning nothing more than a slight “yip”. “If all you wanted was to speak with father, I am sure a request would have been sufficient.”

The tone (though too rough) and comment are so familiar it makes your eyes sting. Yes, it might’ve been…but it wouldn’t send the right signal. Guilt and frustration wars within you, the spear is slippery in your hands that are holding it so tightly your knuckles are tingling. One wrong word or move, and any of those weapons pointed at you will suddenly be stuck through you…or maybe you’ll have an up-close encounter with the biggest wolves you’ve ever seen. And all for some stupid, calculative, seductive Trickster. I’m so fucked.

“An audience wouldn’t help much if the king doesn’t trust the extend of my dedication.”

“He would listen and consider any request.”

“Would he let Loki go if I asked him?” The silence and averted eyes are answers in their own right. “I thought so.”

“Yet this?” Strong arms sweep to encompass the scene around the opposing parties. “Lay down Gungnir, step down from the throne and let us talk.”

“I’d love to Thor…I really would.” For a moment you allow your steely appearance to falter, locking gazes with the prince through a haze. “But it wouldn’t help. Not anymore, because it won’t get me what –”

A thunderous impact of wood against stone signals the arrival of Odin stalking through the doors in a flood of torchlight that flickers and dances in the reflections of the armours of even more guards. Even from this distance, it’s obvious that he’s hastily dressed in something remarkably similar to a bathrobe, just not as fluffy. For a second, an image of the All-Father dressed in a pink, fluffy bathrobe and matching slippers appears in your mind but it’s chased away the moment you see his face contorted with rage. Yeah…I’m dead.

“What,” he hisses, surprisingly calmly, “is the meaning of this?” With long strides, Odin makes his way to the dais where everyone moves aside for him. Not you.

“Father, she clai–“

Thor’s cut off sharply: “Let her speak for herself unless you side with this mortal.”

Ouch. It’s hard to say what hurts the most, the venom laced into that last word or the way Thor looks to you pleadingly before stepping over to stand by his father.

“Your majesty,” you begin.

“So you recognize my authority, still,” Odin promptly challenges.

Managing to bite back a sigh, you count to ten before continuing. “I have no wish to denounce your rule, All-Father, you’ve been a kind host and I’m deeply grateful for the care and hospitality of Asgard.”

“Then enough of this nonsense. Seize her!”

You’re on your feet faster than you realize, the deadly sharp tip of Gungnir inches away from the old king as Thor and anyone else in the room pounces at you before stopping abruptly. That was too fast…how could I do that? There’s no time to consider it now, though, your focus solely on the Asgardian before you who’s looking down at his own weapon aimed at his chest. Okay, maybe your focus is slightly divided because the hot air of a pair of predators is curling around your neck and arms, sharp teeth bared as a last warning.

“[Y/N]…” Even Thor’s stunned at the development. “What are you doing?”

“You said it yourself, and really there’s no doubt…” The words nearly get stuck in your throat, but the doubt and guilt is gone, leaving behind a wonderful peace that Odin clearly recognizes. “Let Loki return to Midgard. You can banish him all you want but let him out and let him live.”

“You risk your life for him?” A watery, blue eye challenges your sanity.

“Yes.”

Clearly exasperated, Thor reaches for you but stops at the motion from his father. “[Y/N], be reasonable. Loki would not want this…he risked his life to save yours.”

“I know…and how am I supposed to live with that knowledge?”

To the king, I will bow, at least for now One of these days a-coming, I'm gonna take that boy's crown

…   Loki’s PoV   …

The howling has stopped. Einherjar have come and gone, at first whispering agitatedly amongst each other, but since then silence has fallen, laden with a different tension which can almost be tasted in the air. Chaos. Insecurity. Loki lives for these things, but normally he’s the one to cause them and being left out of the loop is infuriating to say the least. Pacing the bright cell, frost snakes from each footstep in tendrils towards the walls as the Jotun’s attention and concerns are anywhere but with himself, the only apparent consolation being that there appears to have been no bloodshed. What has happened?

Faint voices hint at new arrivals to the dungeons and Thor appears shortly after on the other side of the golden shimmer that keeps the prisoner safely inside the perimeter.

“Brother, what is going on? Is [Y/N] safe?” The words have left Loki’s mouth in a garbled hurry.

There’s an electric shine to the older brother’s eyes and…is that…amusement? “If by safe you mean currently alive, then yes.”

“Don’t be cryptic, it suits you ill.”

This time a broad smile proves the suspicion. “Your girlfriend’s currently holding father at spear point.”

The words individually make sense but strung together like this and accompanied by the twisted amusement the meaning as a whole becomes blurred. Loki witnesses, as though removed from his own body, how the barrier is lowered and the brothers and a few einherjar leave the dismal dungeons.

Every nerve sing with the tension crackling from the people surrounding the slender prisoner, fusing his mind and body again. Oh, how he used to love that sensation. The thrill of watching others scrabble helplessly to understand and survive the chaos dragging them anywhere at once. This time it’s different because not only does he recognize the frantic uncertainty, Loki’s sharing in it. What is she doing? The bafflement that had consumed the Trickster at first is replaced by an array of possible scenarios which all, somehow, grab his heart in a vice. Spearpoint. Glancing at his brother, the hope that Thor merely is jesting is snuffed – the warrior does not posses such humour. Odin at spearpoint. No such thing should be able to happen without the offender losing their life the instant the weapon was readied. Unless…

“The spear. The spear.” Loke recalls the impossible weight of Gungnir perfectly although years have passed.

Thor grunts in approval. “And she wields it well, I may add.”

Two corridors pass in a seemingly endless blur before the group finally enters the grand hall through a side door, granting Loki an immediate view of the strangely twisted situation. A golden ring of nervous guards surround the only calm people, yet Odin and [Y/N] should logically be the most agitated in this scene due to the evident threat to their lives. The tip of Gungnir wavers delicately with each breath of the Midgardian. Grace. Unbidden, Loki appreciates the ferocious beauty of the woman, her body poised and controlled. Deadly perfection.

“Beloved.” She doesn’t flinch at his word, merely smiles. “What are you doing?”

“I’m negotiating your release.”

Moving closer, Loki sees the shift in the wolves standing at either side of the woman he loves. They are ready to attack her, tear out the delicate throat that has moaned his name so prettily. Only Odin’s order holds the beasts back. Why hasn’t he let them? Soft wrinkles and fragile skin speak silently of the millennia the king has lived and the hardships he has navigated the kingdom safely through until reaching this very point in time and space where a mortal holds the king’s spear to the king’s own heart. A few delicate threads in the robe have already been damage by the sharp metal.

“You…decided the best way to plead my case was by threatening the All-Father with Gungnir?”

[Y/E/C] never leave the single pale blue before her. “Frankly, I didn’t actually intend for this to happen,” the words are softened by her own chuckle, “I w’s snooping ‘round to learn more ‘bout what I’m up against…came here and saw the spear lying, so…I decided to try’t out.”

“Geri and Freki often spend the nights here,” Odin muses softly, “they saw you.”

“Correct, your highness.” The smile’s gone from the lips Loki has come to adore. “Forced to improvise then.”

Gentle, despite the stern voice, the woman explains her demands: in exchange for letting the king live and get Gungnir back, she and Loki will be allowed to leave Asgard safely, banished once more for eternity or unless the verdict be retracted. She even apologises for the turn of events, admitting that it’s a poor way of repaying a life debt.

Silence returns while Odin considers the proposal.

Hands red, hands red just like he said I am a little wicked

Using the time to look around, the adopted son finds that more people have appeared in the shadows from where they watch nervously. Several faces are familiar such as Heimdall’s and Sif’s, old friends whom he abandoned and lost the right to count on, adding to the pain that drove Loki too far astray. I got red in my ledger too. No Asgard has long since seized being the fallen prince’s home.

“[Y/N] daughter of [Y/mom’s/N],” Odin announces loud enough for all to hear, “even if your actions had been limited to wielding Gungnir and sitting on the throne the sentence would have been eternal imprisonment.”

Let her live, she does not understand our customs. Loki can feel the nails bite into his palms, but he must stay calm or the pending verdict may become even worse. Gaze flicking from the two figures, an unconditional admiration takes root in his heart at the stoicism with which this fragile mortal is facing her doom.

“From our conversations, I have learned that you are intelligent and kind of nature and it leads me to believe that violence holds no interest for you,” Odin continues, earning a soft nod, “thus your motivation must stem from somewhere else…the love you have found for Loki…a love that he has proven with the breach of his sentence to be mutual.” The slightest quiver of [Y/N] lips threatens to break Loki’s resolve. “I remember love. There was not one thing I would not do for my beloved Frigga.” A silent tear slips from Odin’s healthy eye. “I accept your terms, [Y/N] of Midgard. Upon my word, no ill shall befall you or Loki on my orders if you leave now.”

…   Reader’s PoV   …

Sometimes life can work out really well despite how hard you’ve tried to fuck things up. Staring at Odin, you feel your mouth fall open as what he just said seeps into your brain. All right. Slowly stepping back while trying to ignore the imposing presences of the wolves, you accept that the mad plan worked. Yes. Right then. Mouth closing, you still can’t shut up the inner voice that reminds you that technically there hadn’t been a plan, just a stupid idea grabbed out of nowhere as an avalanche of troubles started rolling. Okay. Yes. That’s it. Both wolves step aside as you turn the spear for Odin to take. The moment it leaves your hands, you start shaking from all that has transpired.

“Thank you,” you manage to squeak to the king.

Old but strong hands grab your upper arms soothingly. “I do not condone of your actions…yet I have hope, the love the two of you hold for each other may be vital.”

Next moment it’s Loki’s arms around you and his hands tugging you so close you only can breathe in his scent.

It’s not really you, that walk with the tall, black-haired god through the city, along the Bifrost (which you only vaguely realize is one of the most breathtakingly gorgeous things you’ve ever seen) and into a golden sphere of magical, Asgardian technology. It’s a bit more you that bids the king farewell after listening to the consequences if you or Loki should return uninvited (death both or, if only one of you pulls such a stunt, at least for the trespasser and imprisonment for the other). It is however completely you, that feels the full force of the rainbow bridge hurtling you through the universe, dropping pieces of your organs and mind along the way. Or so it feels.

[migleefulmoments]

"Because accusing a gay man of hitting on all the straight men is homophobic. Because Abby insinuated that the video is problematic" Did the anons say Ryan has hit on all the straight men? This is getting weird. I am sorry to see you keep misrepresenting what the original anon said - who mentioned only a "crush". I don't remember anyone here accusing Ryan of hitting on Darren. The anons weren't talking about Abby either, you brought her up regardless. But she uses everything to tinhat.

I’m done talking about this- if you want to say more then come off anon and have a conversation.  But they DID imply that Ryan was being predatory and inappropriate- I don’t remember what the first anon said but I have been responding to the tinhatters comments. 

Abby: Yes Anon, That was my take as well.

This got long so it’s under a cut

 followed immediately by:

justcantgetenoughcc

I have seen the recording of Ry/M touching Da/rren’s cheek before, and still find it creepy. It looks as if D turns his head to kiss R’s hand. What do you think?

Abby: I noticed that too. That Darren turned his head and blew him a kiss / or kissed his hand… to appease him, as he was interrupting the conversation with their guest of honor - Mayor Bloomberg. Possessive much? I found Harry Shum’s expression even more interesting as he notices what RM is doing.

There’s another picture that goes with this set… Where Heather is unceremoniously yanked out of the way, so that RM could stand next to Darren.

Look at Jane’s reaction to HOW RM is describing Chris here…

Chrisdare actually comes in with a reality check and pushes back against their nonsense.  Notice that she points out that they need to watch the entire video to see the truth.  

chrisdarebashfulsmiles No it’s not the right take and it’s easy too see if you see the entire clip: tightening the lips is not the same as kissing hands.

Now, i know i’m gonna sound rude but i’m mad and pissed off AF in D’s behalf (and as a person who try always to check before speaking) and it’s not something that happens a lot. I usually stay silent too but today this is too much for me. I don’t understand this need of spreading “lies” about him of on this kind of things. To prove that is ok to be mad at him for the bearding and thinking he’s always been disrespectful to C?? That maybe he did casting couch?

We have enough haters… he has more haters than we have… why there’s the need to invent stuff about him it’s beyond me. And now you all block me or whatever, i don’t care. I swear after 6 years here and all that this means… I DON’T CARE.

But for the love of God he has enough on his plate without this kind of stuff. Said that, i agree on RM being the creepiest and i hate him for how he treated C.

Abby comes back with a toned attitude and agrees with Chrisdare. She wasn’t reflagging this earlier in the week? No idea what that means but she can’t help but stir the shit. 

ajw720

I was actively not reblogging this gifs earlier in the week because it’s a reminder I don’t think d needs.

But he’s literally pushing his hand away with his face. As @chrisdarebashfulsmiles said, d as enough on his plate. Can we not add to it with falsehoods?

No one is arguing about RM. but for some reason d has decided to dance with the devil he knows. It must be his best option. And c is still there and supporting him so he’s clearly ok with the choice. Let’s not add to the substantial weight on their shoulders.

Rouged has the most outrageous comments-as usual- and Abby reblogged them without pushing back and in fact said “some good points”. Since she didn’t call out those she felt were untrue-I must assume she was fully supportive of the suggestions of impropriety on behalf of Ryan. This isn’t the only time Abby has sullied Ryan’s name. Rouged is only upset that Darren’s name is dragged through the mud.  

rougedraconteur

This has been around forever, and will never go away, will it?  I had asked that this not be reposted, for what I thought were obvious reasons, but people just can’t help dragging him through the mud.  So, let’s talk about this little piece of hell.  This was when they were filming the competition in New York.  D’s bit was supposed to be over, and he was only in that episode at the very end, which could have been filmed anywhere.  BUT, he had broken so big that he, and the Warblers, were given an album release and were also in NYC and on Today show premiering it. D was privately discussing with the producers where his character Blaine would go next.  Would he have his own show with the Warblers, a spinoff, or would he stay with Glee?  It was a huge decision, and very high-pressure.  C had already returned to Glee and New Directions, this was the big show.  But, starring in his own show, and giving all the other Warblers a bigger career, that was also tempting. I am sure he felt the pressure of that decision, and how his choice impacted others, he had formed a bond with the Warbler actors.  But being on the big show, a sure thing, and with C as his co-star, seeing him and working with him every day, well…

This was a “Welcome to NYC” photo op and news article by Mayor Bloomberg with some of the cast, and this was the moment D was shaking hands with Mayor Bloomberg, and speaking to him.  I happen to think D has some political aspirations as well, so he may have mentioned something when he met Bloomberg.  RM was probably high, he acts so erratically here, but he reaches out, with a camera and tons of photographers there, and pats him on the cheek, cups his cheek, actually, and pats it way too fondly, extremely inappropriate but what RM does a lot, and not just with D. (more about that later.). I don’t know why Br/ad Fal/chuk does not control him better, but they are both horrible people, as is Dan/te Di/Lor/eto, standing right behind RM, who no longer works with RM, Br/ad, and I/an. (Thank all the gods.  That’s one creep out of the way, two to go.)  D, in mid-speech with the mayor, and still shaking his hand, is shocked, and reaches up to angrily swat RM’s hand away.  Remember that D did not know all the other guys that much, he had mostly hung out with C and the Warblers, who would probably have been more protective of him, (I am sure C would have tried), and more interactive, but this is the rest of the world, including Bloomberg, the NYC press, AND New Directions seeing this predatory behavior roll out up close and personal, for the first time, out in the open, and blatant.  I mean, he just did not care what people thought at that point, he thought he was king of the world.

I don’t know why C and the rest of the girls besides Hea/ther were not here, but I know L and C had that big filming singing on the Wicked stage, and the scenes at Tiffany’s.  D supposedly was present in the audience at that filming.  Since he is not dressed in Warbler costume, for Today show, this may have been that day, I assume C and L filming in those outfits took most of one day.  The entire Glee production team, including Warblers and THEIR album rollout, were all there for a week of filming, and, at the height of their fame, had all practically shut NYC down with their various filming locations.  Fans were everywhere, and the city made a big deal of it.

Heather tries to stand in front of D, in the group photo, and is roughly jerked out of the way, (also caught on film, the guy must have been unable to stop rolling, it was just too bizarre), so that RM can cosy in to that tight space next to D and hold on.  In virtually every photo made with the two of them in a group, D ALWAYS is made to be very near RM, UNLESS RM is sober, has just been called out for being a creep, or is otherwise trying to behave and scrub his image, in which case D is not attached to him at the hip, but these are rare indeed.  Again, this was NYC, the height of Glee’s popularity, RM was drunk with power and fame, and probably also literally drunk, thinking he ruled the world and everyone in his domain, and D was making the second-most important decision of his life, behind the scenes. I don’t think many people ever consider the extreme pressure he was under, this was a career making moment, and RM and the other producers were all giving him the hard press.  At 23 years old.

The first important decision, knowing how RM was, was going all in to be on Glee.  And don’t tell me he didn’t know.  Every person in Hollywood knows the predators, and the pluses and perils of working with them.  If they are mature adults, and are not trapped or coerced or blackmailed or assaulted, (and they usually are, the power exchange is very imbalanced), what they do is their business, and I don’t judge.  If they gain something, that is an exchange, that is their power, their erotic capital, and they are allowed to own that and exchange it as a strength, if they choose.  The actors have assets, that propel their careers, and they are allowed to use them, as they see fit, if they give that consent in that moment, and get something they value in return.  That is an exchange of power, and happens so frequently in Hollywood (and Washington, and corporate America, and The entertainment and fashion industries as a whole), that most in those industries don’t think twice about it.  

So, Hollywood is one of those towns where lots of sex happens, because there are lots of beautiful people interacting with very rich and powerful people, and they all interact with each other.  Get real, and get over that part. D is not a saint, nor does he have to be for me to be his fan, I am not blind or stupid or naive, I get it. They are not like us, okay?  This is not our day to day lives.

 The bad part is when people are faced with almost constant sexual and physical and emotional harassment because of it.  And D is.  From many power sources. The same as many beautiful women  are, with all the talk about fleshlights and being rapey, which is the latest.  It is all lewd and suggestive, we have all sexualized D and C, and need to accept that complicated history we all have with them.  But especially it is true for D with RM, and Br/ad Fal/chuk, (and Da/nte Di/loreto, but I hope that one is over.) Theirs is oppressive, and manipulative, and controlling and threatening. And that is abuse.  

And if anyone has the film from C’s first Single Ladies dance rehearsal, in costume, for the Glee tour, you would see more blatant RM abuse.

 In fact,I would venture to say almost every member of that key cast was abused beyond their consent by the showrunner, other producers, writers, and directors. (Not all of them, but some of them, for sure.) It was only because that show made billions, with a B,  for F/ox, and even War/ren Buf/fet visited that set (weird, he sat by Ch/ord), that Fox execs looked the other way.  The fact that Da/na Wal/den, RM’s main enabler, is now at The Mouse House, just tells you how pervasive this culture truly is.  It’s hard to fight everyone, when all your heroes have feet of clay.  RM IS the devil he knows.  And he has a contract.  And he DID negotiate Executive Producer status.  But I think it is ironic, and more than a little sad and sick, that RM also gave it to the two new prettyboys on set, who have earned NOTHING like the shit D went through, after we all mentioned that it gave D power and control  that he had more than earned.  Can’t let D get too big for his britches, and think he is getting somewhere without us now, can we, RM and BF?  He OWES you.  Apparently, forever.

And can we stop reblogging that series of images now?  I think RM gets a sick satisfaction out of them even now, as all the shot starts yet again, tangling them together in intimate ways RM does not deserve, and I despise giving him anything.  What was done, is done.  What happened, happened.  What is happening, has its reasons.  It does not change that D is a huge talent, and deserving of his fans, nor that RM and BF are likely to bring him success.  They are still creeps, and horribly so, ones that deserve to be brought down, in my opinion.  i  And apparently would rather deal with, at this point, since everyone is watching, due to all the issues in the past, than ones he doesn’t, which no one expects.  The current movie is a perfect example.  This career is exactly like walking through a field of land mines for a living.  You never know when you are going to step on the next one.

ajw720. Will no reblog again, but some really good points.  

[winnipegpatty]

to all the boys i’ve loved before [pt ii.] | s.m.

a/n: tumblr hates me, and deleted pt. ii. so here i am reposting. apparently this is just a thing that’s gonna happen with all my writing. cool. anyway, enjoy if you haven’t already read. reblog, like it, come talk to me about it. pls. i need validation. 

part i. part iii. 

I should probably consider going to a therapist. I must be insane. I had to be. This is only a thing a crazy person would do. Not only had I considered Shawn’s proposal over the last twenty four hours, I entertained the thought. A lot. If Gen was sure to be jealous of their relationship, maybe Josh would be too. And not that I wanted to date Josh or anything, it would be kind of nice to see him jealous over someone else liking me. And well, maybe fake dating Shawn wouldn’t be so bad. He was cute after all, and popular. He might teach me a thing or two about dating, of which I knew exactly...zero things. So really it didn’t seem so bad. It couldn’t really hurt, could it?

But considering Shawn’s idea and actually accepting it were two different games.

In my own land where I control the outcome of each of my decisions, can know exactly what everyone thinks or does around me, well this idea sounds amazing. But in the real world. The world where Gen hated me, and I had exactly one friend, and my eleven year old sister had a better social life than me. Well, that was different.

Yet somehow, sanity had gone out the window, and I found myself somewhere I never thought I would ever go. The school music hall. The place where Shawn practiced for theatre and choir ensemble pretty much every day. And yes, I realize that choir kids, aren’t usually that cool, right? It’s usually the jocks, right? Well this school was different. Or well, maybe Shawn was just different. He had a way about him. A commanding presence that made everyone look twice when he walked down the hall. So yes, he was the most popular senior in the school, despite only being a choir kid.

But what was I doing in the music hall exactly? Well that was a good question. I’ll be sure to let you know the answer when I figure out.

“Hey Mendes,” I heard myself shout over a particularly loud guitar riff he was showing off to his friends.

His fingers slipped to a stop. “What?” He asked as he looked towards me where I was walking up the stage steps.

I came face to face with Shawn Mendes yet again (this was quite possibly the most I’d ever seen of him in such a short period of time). “I’m in.” I said my voice surprisingly steady despite my pounding heart rate. Was I really getting into this with Shawn Fucking Mendes?

A slow smile crept onto Shawn’s face as he gently placed his hand on my cheek and kissed me. Yes, he kissed me. It was my second kiss with Shawn Mendes in less than twenty four hours.

What the fuck was this life?

When he finally pulled away, I took a small step back. I’m sure I looked shocked because honestly, you’re lying to yourself if you think you wouldn’t.

“Well, uh, I’m gonna go to Spanish now.”

I slowly backed away, fleeing the scene of the crime.

And that, my friends, was the beginning of a beautiful fake relationship.

____

“Okay, first things first, we need rules.”

Shawn rolled his eyes from his place as the picnic table.

“You really know how to suck the fun out of a situation don’t you?”

“This is serious Shawn, we need to know where we stand on certain issues.”

Shawn tugged on the string of the pink hoodie he was currently wearing. “Okay, like what issues?”

“Well, for example. I don’t want to kiss you again.”

Shawn balked, thinking I couldn’t be serious. I was. “Who is going to believe that we are a couple if I can’t even kiss my girlfriend?”

I rolled my eyes, “Relationships are more than physical intimacy, Mendes.”

“Okay, but you kissed me first! And now you’re going to say you don’t want to kiss at all?”

He had a point, but that didn’t mean the request was any less valid. I wasn’t caving. “It’s not negotiable.” I set him with a stern looking, hoping it was clear that I meant business.

“Fine, but something else needs to happen then. People won’t buy it if I’m not allowed to touch you.” Shawn shrugged as if that were a no brainer.

“I see your point. How about this? You can...stick your hand in my back pocket?”

“My hand in your back pocket, what the hell is that, Y/N?”

“Sixteen Candles?”

Shawn rolled his neck to look at me, completely unimpressed with a blank face.

“It’s the opening image?” Nothing. This boy was giving me nothing. “It’s a couples thing!”

“Maybe in the 70s.”

“Sixteen Candles was the 80s!”

Shawn’s utter lack of knowledge of classical rom com literature was horrific. “Okay well first off, sixteen candles is going on the list because it’s a classic. I refuse to date someone so uncultured. Second, we can’t tell anyone about this relationship.”

“Duh, first rule of fight club,” Shawn rolled his eyes.

“What?”

“Are you serious?” Shawn leaned in to look closely at me, “You’ve never seen fight club?”

I shook my head before he responded, “Oh my god okay, write it down. Double feature. The Candles movie and then fight club.”

“Okay, fight club, sixteen candles, no snitching. Anything else?” See Shawn thought this idea was stupid, making rules and all, but clearly this was the important bedrock on which the entire fake relationship would sit upon. A solid foundation was important.

“I could,” Shawn’s face suddenly appeared calm, contemplative, “I could, um, write you songs, maybe? Like little lyrics?”

Songs? Lyrics? Shawn would write songs for his girlfriend? I’m not even sure I knew he wrote his own songs. Could this be more surreal? “You’d do that?” I asked softly, not wanting to get any thoughts in my head.

“Yeah, I mean, Gen was always begging me to do it. And I never did. So if I did that for you, it’d drive her crazy.”

Right. Gen, of course. “How romantic,” I cooed, dripping with sarcasm.

“Also, you have to come to all my concerts and performances and the parties.”

“Then you’ll have to pick up my sister and I and drive us to school everyday.” So that I don’t die.

“Okay, but you’re coming with me on the annual ski trip.”

The Ski Trip. That was the infamous overnight event where more couples were rumored to lose their virginity than Senior Week and Prom, combined. Any couple that meant anything in high school would be there together. I have never been. Obviously.

“Shawn, that’s like three months away. You really expect us to last that long?”

“Let’s just call it a contingency.” Shawn smirked, “Look no one in their right mind, would let their boyfriend go on that trip alone. It’d be social suicide. So, if we are still doing this by then, you have to go with me. No ifs ands or buts.”

I’m absolutely certain, that by the time the ski trip comes around in three months, Shawn Mendes will just be a page in the book of my own history book. And that is the only reason I say, “Okay. Deal.”

___

“Come on, Sof, we’re gonna be late. Hurry up.”

It was October already. I’m not sure how it happened, but it had. And today was the day Shawn and I were going to put the contract into motion. Fake relationship-ing commences today.

“I’m so tired of taking the bus,” Sof complained as she ran down the stairs, “Can’t you just drive us again? This time without hitting people?”

“Actually.” The two of you slipped out the door, just as you heard Shawn honk the horn of his Jeep.

“Hey, y’all ready?” Shawn stuck his head out the window.

The shock on Sofia’s face was priceless. I stepped into the passenger side seat and Sofia stumbled into the back seat.

“Hey, little Y/N” Shawn turned towards Sofia, “What is that?” He motioned to her cup.

“This is horchata,” She said as if he were utterly helpless. Which to her defense, he basically is. “And my name is Sofia, my friends call me Sof. But you can call me Sofia.”

“Okay..” Shawn said turning to me, “She’s feisty.”

“So, how exactly do you know my sister again?” Sof asked.

Shawn laughed, “Well, I guess, I’m her boyfriend.” He sent a smile to me, and I rolled my eyes. “Can I have some of that?” He gestured again to the horchata.

“Sure,” Sofia responded, handing her cup over to Shawn. Shawn took a drink of the horchata and smiled.

“Oh, wow that is so good. What do I have to do, to get you to bring me one of these tomorrow?”

“You’re driving us again?”

Shawn nodded, “Yeah of course. It’s the boyfriend duty, I’ve been told.” Shawn winked at me, and I shrunk further into my seat.

“Okay!” Sof bounced, “You can call me Sof.”

Shawn leaned into my shoulder and whispered to me, “Progress.”

And this is what it was like to be dating Shawn Mendes apparently.