#it would never happen and i think it would make both of them worse but i wanna see it anyways

[bnnysweets]

˗ˏˋ THE CHAIN ˎˊ˗

capt. 1

guitarist!ellie x vocalist!reader

after years of dedication to establish the band and make the dream real, the long-awaited success was achieved. money, interviews, paparazzi, luxury and everything else, but what happens when your girlfriend goes back to her old bad habits and you are no longer willing to deal with them?

author’s note: english is not my first language. this is heavily inspired by fleetwood mac’s discography and history.

warnings: angst. drugs(alcohol, cigs, coke n heroin). cheating(?). mention of relapsing. ellie and r! are in a band with their friends.

it escalated quickly, ellie was invited to open another band’s concert, she would do a solo, when she asked if you wanted to go with her you turned down and said you wanted to rest. so ellie flew to the other side of the country with a bunch of newly succeeded rockstars, what could go wrong?

ellie would spend one week away, and on the fourth day your adviser, leah, called you: “did you saw it?” you were barely wake, napping for a little too long, but her calls always meant something urgent, “what? what u talking ‘bout?” she left a breath and you heard she whisper “fuck me” very quiet. “ellie was photographed in a strip club.” she said on a remorseful tone, like she didn’t want to be the one to tell you this. you were speechless.

ellie and you were dating for four fucking years, since you were eighteen. you created a band together with your friends, you grew up together and so did your relationship. both of you never had any problems regarding loyalty or anything like that, but since she started to do solos and she recorded a solo album, she was weird. she was acting like she didn’t need you, not just you but all the band, jesse, dina and abby. all of you sacrificed a lot for the band, especially you. you’re the youngest of them, you gave up of your dream of enter a university because of the band. ellie knew how much a major meant to you, but she still said the band would offer so much more to you. and now is looking like she didn’t even like to be in a band anymore.

you stayed silent, for a minute, but for leah sounded like a hour. “what the fuck?! where’s the pic?” you started pacing around the hotel room, “listen, i don’t think you should see-“ “wheres the pic leah?” you interrupted, controlling yourself to not scream at her. “…just open twitter and search her name.” she said exhaling a loud sigh. you put the call on speaker and looked for it. it was worse than you thought.

ellie was sat on one of that big couches, blunt on one hand and a whole whiskey bottle on another. she was on the middle of her, apparently, new friends, two of them with white powder on theirs noses. she was shirtless, with a calvin klein top under of a black leather jacket, she was manspreading with the biggest smirk on her face, clearly drugged. her eyes were empty, despite her grin, you could see how she was empty, hollow, nothing but a heap of ego. and the cherry on top? a almost naked girl on her lap, with her head on ellie’s neck, ellie’s hands were on the stripper’s hips. the stripper was only wearing a fucking thong. the table on front of the couch contains a bunch of bottles, two filled ashtrays, a lot of empty little bags and other ones with white powder and colored pills, you even saw a fucking syringe. you freaked out.

“are you there?” leah asked, all she could hear was yours sighs evertime you noticed a new detail on the photo. “what the actual fuck leah? what happened? did she say something to u? i can’t believe this shit.” you said, still swallowing all the feelings that invaded you. leah sighed too, “she didn’t say anything to me, just texted asking for a flight back.” “did you found?” you asked, “yes, she’s gonna be here by 2am.” “alright…yeah…alright. thank you leah.” you hung up before leah could say anything. ellie had went to rehab when you started dating, and you made your job to never let her touch anything other than weed again. but you couldn’t control her, she was a grown woman, if she want to do, she will.

you threw your phone across the room. you grabbed a pillow and screamed on it, until you couldn’t anymore. until your throat was sore. you walked to the little hotel kitchen and drank water, trying to calm down. you grabbed your phone, that surprisingly still working, besides the force of the impact, and opened the chat with jesse.

[howiswhatawhy]

WYD Now? - Bucky Barnes x reader

Pairing: childhood bestfriend! Bucky x singer! reader

A/N: I love him so much your honor. Literally can't stop writing for him. This is based on WYD Now? by Sadie Jean. It's such a beautiful song, I couldn't stop listening to it ever since I rediscovered my Bucky playlist. I put more thoughts into this than the last fic and I hope you like it<3

Playlist in question: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5A4PA2qyqdiJJibwfeaojl?si=236b0a08fd0f4670

Summary: You think you see Bucky watching your show after years of no contact. It's probably just your imagination, so why can't you shake off this ache in your chest? Word Count: 2.9k Warnings: fuckboy bucky, whole lotta angst + much more longing, childhood bestfriends to strangers to lovers. not proofread (again)

I saw you in the back of my show last night

Standing underneath the exit sign

I know it wasn't really you though

'Cause you were always in the front row

The stage light shines almost blindingly. You’re used to it now, though. There was a time when it was overwhelming, almost daunting, to be in the eyes of so many people. Back then, Bucky was your rock. The anchor that kept you grounded. The calm in a world full of storms. 

But now, the thrill excites you, the heat of the spotlight feels like home. You’re not sure which you crave more, the rapt attention of a thousand strangers or the careful, loving gaze of just one person. Your person. Bucky. But if you just let yourself really listen to your heart, you’re almost sure you’d choose the latter. 

Almost.

Your gaze drifts beyond the crowd, past the stage lights and into the shadows at the edge of the room. That’s when you see him. Leaning against the wall beneath the dull red glow of the exit sign, arms crossed, eyes on you like he never left. Like he never broke you.

And then, he’s gone.

You’re probably just imagining it. Bucky wouldn’t be here, he had better things to do than to haunt your show like a ghost. There was a time where Bucky would be at every front row seat of your shows. Granted, the venues were small, maybe three rows total, but he was there. Always.

You don’t really know what happened. It doesn’t matter anyways. How could anything matter that much—enough to cost you him? But what’s done is done. There’s no taking it back. No turning back the time.

So now, you focus on the moment. Focus on performing. Because that’s what you do best. Perform. In front of thousands of eyes. In front of no one. In front of the mirror. You perform. Pretending to be okay.

——

And I've been looking for love online

And maybe some of them are real good guys

They're never gonna be like you though

You set the bar above the moon so

It’s not like men are all bad. It’s just that they’re worse, comparatively, when your bar was set by Bucky Barnes. And you did try to find love. Tried to move on. Tried everything just to feel something. But nothing you did ever came close. Close to the way he made you feel when he held you when you thought the world was against you. Close to the way he made you feel when he accidentally brushed his hands against yours, and it felt like lightning had just struck you both. Close to the way he made you feel just by looking at you, like you’re the only damn person in this Earth. And to him, that was true. It is true. At the very least, you’re the only person that ever mattered to him. You were his world. His safe place.

But none of it matters now.

Because even as you stand here, surrounded by the lights and the crowd, that feeling is gone. All that’s left is the echo of it. A memory of what once was, and the ache of never finding it again. 

You try to move on, to pretend you don’t still hear his voice in your head, whispering that you’re not alone, that everything will be okay. But the truth is, no one has ever made you feel the way he did. 

No one ever will.

——

Now that you finally got the job you like

I'm making money off the songs I write

I know you said that I could call you

I wonder if you wanna call too

Someone said he was doing well. That he finally got into that company he wanted and he finally escaped the hellhole. You heard it through a friend of a friend, like a whisper in the wind. You wonder if he’s really happy. You hope he is. You really really do.

You’re doing alright too. In a way better place than you were before. Sometimes it all feels like a dream, a mixture of your worst nightmare and the version of your life you used to write about in your journal when you were fifteen. He said you could call. You remember the way he looked at you that night — tired, unsure, but still trying. “You know, whatever happens… you could always call me, right?” You nodded back then. Maybe even believed it. But people say a lot of things they don't mean. Still, some nights your fingers hover over his name. Just in case. Just in case he meant it. Just in case he still would pick up.

——

Now that the future doesn't feel so far

It doesn't seem as wrong to want what's ours

And after everything that's happened

I wanna put it in the past tense

People grow. They grow and they change and nothing is ever constant. You knew that. You knew that better than anyone else. Even if sometimes you felt like you might forget about it, the constant ache—the ache your father left when he walked out the door—never truly let you. It sat there, quiet but insistent, like a low hum beneath every laugh, every moment of joy, every silence. 

That didn’t stop the teenage you from hoping, though. It didn’t stop you from looking at Bucky like he was the exception to every rule, like maybe he’d be the one to stay. You held onto that hope with both hands, white-knuckled and desperate, because something about him made you believe in forever, even when you knew better.

You and Bucky stopped being friends three years ago. Though if we’re being honest, you and Bucky stopped being friends long before that. Not if you count the longing you carried like a secret, folded tight in the corners of your heart. Friends don’t look at each other that way. 

And he looked at you too. God, he did. In the way his gaze lingered when you talked, in the way he remembered things you said in passing like they meant everything. But Bucky Barnes was a walking contradiction. He flirted with everyone, kissed girls at parties like it didn’t mean anything, and smiled at you like you were the one exception. You never knew if you were special or just stupid.

And you were both too proud—too scared—to ask.

The night everything fell apart, it wasn’t a fight so much as a slow, sharp unraveling. You watched him leave that party with someone else. Again. And for once, you didn’t pretend it didn’t hurt. You didn’t smile through it or wait up or brush it off when he stumbled back into your life a week later with a half-assed apology and tired eyes.

You didn’t say anything at all.

Then, something shifted. You stopped answering his texts right away. Stopped showing up to places just because you thought he might be there. You started saying no when he called late at night, asking if you were up, like he hadn’t just spent the evening with someone else. You weren’t cruel, you never could be, not with him, but you were distant. Careful. Like someone learning not to touch fire, even if it still called to you.

Bucky noticed. Of course he did. You saw it in the crease between his brows when you laughed a little too loudly at someone else’s joke, felt it in the way he started watching you from across the room like maybe you were slipping out of his reach. And you were.

He tried, in his own way.

Cornered you in the kitchen at Sam’s birthday party, leaning against the counter like it wasn’t taking everything in you not to look at him. Like he hadn’t been circling you all night, waiting for a moment when you weren’t surrounded by other people. Other distractions.

“Did I do something wrong, baby?” he asked, soft and unsure in a way that didn’t match his usual confidence.

Baby.

There’s that word again. Your heart stuttered, traitor that it was.

But you didn’t show it. Just shrugged, cool and quiet, like the sound of that word didn’t carve straight through you.

He called everyone that. Baby. Sweetheart. Doll. It didn’t mean anything. At least, that’s what you told yourself. That’s what you clung to when your throat got tight and you couldn’t quite meet his eyes.

“No,” you said finally, voice calm. Distant. “You didn’t do anything.”

But your chest ached with everything you didn’t say.

You wanted to scream yes. Yes, you did. You made me feel like I mattered and then reminded me I didn’t. You made me believe in something, and then left me to carry it alone. But instead, you stayed quiet. Because if you said any of it out loud, you weren’t sure you’d survive hearing his answer.

He stood there a moment longer, waiting. Watching. Maybe hoping.

Then he nodded, pushed off the counter with a quiet sigh, and left you there with your silence.

And eventually… he stopped trying.

But some things don’t end just because you stop talking.

The wanting never really left you. It dulled, maybe. It muted itself into something quieter, more manageable. Something you could pack away between polite smiles and half-meant goodbyes. But it never died.

Because every time you hear his name, your heart still flinches. Every time someone mentions him in passing, you feel your pulse skip like it used to. You still remember the sound of his laugh, the shape of his mouth around your name, the way it used to feel like you were the only two people in the world.

And you’re tired. Tired of feeling like nothing could ever compare. Tired of longing for the ghost of him. No, not the ghost of him. Tired of longing for him. The real him. You’re tired of pretending it was only ever a phase. A crush. A moment you’ve outgrown.

It’s been 3 years of missing him and many more years of longing for him. So you decided you had enough of it. You tried getting rid of the wanting, but it didn’t work. You tried distracting yourself, that only made you miss him more. You tried being mad, really mad. Told yourself he didn’t deserve that kind of space in your chest. That if he wanted you, he would’ve said something. Done something. Chosen you. And that just left you feeling unwanted.

But there’s one thing you haven’t tried: talking to him.

So you do.

You don’t think. Don’t overanalyze or rehearse a speech in your head. You just pick up your phone and press his name before you can talk yourself out of it. Before fear and pride and all the years between you can pull you back under.

It rings.

Once.

Twice.

“Hello?”

Fuck. dontcrydontcrydontcrydontcry.

“Doll, you okay?”

And you just sob.

——

‘Cause I don’t wanna be 20-something

And still in my head about

17 in my bedroom talking

It took Bucky exactly 9 minutes to get to your place. You didn’t even tell him where you were. Didn’t need to. The moment he heard your sob, he didn’t hesitate. 

“I’m on my way. Stay on the phone with me, okay?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t, not with the lump in your throat and the way everything you had been holding in was spilling out. But you stayed on the line, the sound of your shaky breaths mixing with his muffled voice on the other side.

You barely remember the time passing. You only know the next thing you hear is the sound of your doorbell ringing—quick, urgent.

Bucky.

You rush to the door, barely pulling it open before he’s already there, eyes wide with concern. His face is soft, but there’s something tense in the way he looks at you.

This brings you back to when you were 17. Crying in your room over something small that happened. Bucky would hold you and wipe your tears away. Then he would try to talk about everything and nothing at the same time, to get you out of your head. And it worked. Every problem felt small when you have your Bucky Barnes next to you.

But you’re not 17 anymore. And it’s hard for Bucky to comfort you when he’s the reason for your broken heart at the first place. 

“Tell me what’s on your pretty mind, sweetheart,” Bucky tries.

He says it like it’s still easy. Like no time has passed. Like you haven’t spent the last three years trying to forget the way his voice used to sound wrapped around your name.

You blink at him, eyes glassy, heart pounding so loud you swear it fills the whole room. You want to yell at him. Kiss him. Tell him to leave. Beg him to stay. You want to do everything and nothing at the same time.

“You,” you whisper. It’s all you can manage at first. “You’re what’s on my mind.”

His face shifts. Like the words punch the air out of his lungs.

“All the time,” you add, voice breaking. “You’ve been on my mind for years, Bucky. And I tried—God, I tried so hard to forget. To move on. But it always comes back to you. It’s always you.”

He steps forward, cautiously, like you’re made of something fragile and he’s finally figured out he’s been the one cracking you all along.

“I didn’t know,” he says, voice low. “I swear, doll, I didn’t know it hurt you that much. I thought…” He trails off, jaw clenched like he can’t bring himself to finish the thought. “I thought you didn’t want me.”

You laugh, bitter though you don’t mean it to be. “I wanted you so much it hurt.”

And maybe that’s all it takes. For everything to unravel. For the silence to finally shatter. Because when he reaches for you again, you don’t pull away.

——

You said that by now we’d

Paint the walls of our shared apartment

You’re still everything I want and

I think we can work it out

“I used to picture it, you know,” he says, voice low. “What it’d be like if we ever figured it out.”

“Our place,” he says. “Some shitty apartment with a leaky faucet and bad lighting. But we’d paint the walls. Together. You’d pick the palette, I’d botch the corners.”

The image of it burns your brain. God knows what you would give to have that. The sheer domesticity of it all.

Bucky had been everything you’d ever wanted. He is everything you’ve ever dreamed of. And maybe that’s the problem. Dreams aren’t built to last in real light. Not when they’re made of “almosts” and “what ifs.”

But he’s sitting next to you now, limbs tangled and his thumb is brushing your cheek. He doesn’t look at you when he speaks next. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice barely more than breath. “For the way I hurt you.”

Your eyes stay on him, even as his stay fixed on the floor. His thumb stills against your skin.

“I didn’t mean to. I just... I didn’t know how to stay when things got hard. Didn’t know how to hold something good without breaking it.”

He’s quiet for a long beat, thumb stilling against your cheek. When he finally speaks, his voice is rough, like it’s scraped against something sharp on the way out.

“I thought you didn’t want me,” he says. “Back then, I really believed that. I thought you were done. So I didn’t push. Just let you leave and followed you around like a shadow, watching from the edges, never able to find the courage to fix what we had."

You blink, caught between disbelief and the ache that’s never quite left.

“I should’ve asked. Should’ve fought harder,” he continues, voice barely above a whisper. “But I didn’t know how. And maybe I was scared too. Scared that if I looked too closely, I’d find out I was the only one who felt everything I felt.”

You take a shaky breath. It feels like the first real one you’ve taken in years. “I wanted you,” you say quietly. “I still do.”

His eyes flicker down to your mouth, then back up again, searching your face like he’s making sure this is real. Like he’s afraid to ruin it by wanting too much.

“You still do?” he whispers, almost disbelieving. You nod, just once. “Yeah.”

That’s all it takes.

He leans in slowly, carefully, giving you time to pull away, to say no, but you don’t want to. Not when it’s everything you’ve been wishing for all your life. You tilt your face toward his, eyes fluttering closed just as his lips brush against yours. It’s not rushed or desperate. It’s quiet. Careful. Reverent.

His hand slips from your cheek to the back of your neck, cradling you gently as he deepens the kiss, just slightly, just enough to feel like home. And when he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours. “I missed you,” he murmurs. And you allow yourself to dream once again, a much more real and grounded dream. Maybe we could work it out this time. He leans back a little, studying you with that half-grin that used to undo you. “So,” he murmurs, like he’s trying not to smile too much, “what are you doing now?”

[ysrjune]

i need a SCOTT/ SAM TWINS X READER ASAP

maybe smth like sam was seen with alyssa and scott was seen with shelby WHILE THEY SLEPT WITH READER (or dating reader) so y/n makes them PAYYYY UPPPPPPPPPP purrrr

or any other twin story cuz i realllyyy need them so badly rn

* GIRL YOU GOTTA SHOW ME ᐟ # 🪻

sorry I put this off so long I wasn't sure how to write it but here it is scrumptious 💋

edit: so I um wrote the first paragraph on Saturday but after the cut, it gets STRAIGHT to the point because im too lazy to think of anything else to say + I feel like a lot of the stuff I write is the same exact thing + I feel bad not getting to this for a week.. IM SORRY

uh this is more about scott cause what I wrote.. WOAH. never written about that before. trying something new. anyway I feel like scott WOULDNT like this but sam would, so he's not the one really being punished yk? PLEASE COMMENT AND LMK WHAT U THINK OF THIS!

"Neither of us is even dating you." Scott scoffs. "I dunno about you," He looks at his brother. "But I'm not gonna let some chick I slept with once, tell me who I can and can't see." The blond rolls his eyes. He was wrong. He was definitely gonna let you boss him around, but you needed to show him that you actually could. Scott is so fucking stubborn all the time it's so annoying. He was even worse than his brother, and that says more than enough. Sam is such a little bitch too.

Scott whines as you slap his cock over and over again. "That hurts!" His voice was high pitched and his eyebrows were knitted together. "Should have thought about the consequences of acting like a brat." She rolls her eyes and slaps it once more—harder than the other times. "I'm sorry I'm sorry," He whimpers. "I'll be good. Just stop slappin' it around like it's some sort of toy." He pants and makes eye contact with Sam.

Sam was holding back a smile. Seeing his brother being put in his place for once was awesome. He wasn't looking at his dick though, that would be really gay and sooo weird. "Should have kept your big louth shut, huh Scotty?" The pasty teen shakes his head. "What. A. Shame."

"Don't think you're not getting it either." She gazes over to Sam.

"What?!" Sam scoffs. "I didn't do anything!"

"You lied to Alyssa. You said you've never done anything with a girl. I'll let you know now.. Alyssa and I are friends."

Sam's heart drops. No way. No way you two are friends. You just.. let him go hook up with your friend? After doing the nastiest things with YOU?

"Thats kind of skankish." He mumbles and tongues his piercing. "What the hell am I getting in trouble for? I didn't know you were friends, you didn't tell me."

"You lied to her about being a virgin. I don't appreciate you lying to my friend."

Sam groaned. He pretended like getting his cock slapped was the worst thing that could ever happen to him because it doesn't feel good! But you both knew he was putting on an act. He's a little freak. He's probably dreamed of getting his dick smacked repeatedly.

While this whole conversation between you and the other twin was going on, you didn't stop torturing the blond. Unlike his brother, he hated this. It hurt so damn bad. Didn't feel good in the slightest way. "please stop. i-i'll stop giving you attitude."

"Liar." She rolls her eyes and smacks his cheek, causing him to whine at the sharp sting. "You're only saying that because you want it to stop. I want you to apologize to me, and you better make it good."

He whined and mouthed off about how this is so stupid and that he'd never apologize to you. He didn't owe you an apology. Does he know he could easily put an end to this? Duh.. but he's letting it happen. Why? He doesn't know. Its definitely not because he likes it. His cheeks were red and his eyes were pouring tears.

So what was the deal? Scott Monroe loves to get put in his place.

"I won't talk b-hhuuh.." He squeezes his eyes shut. "back.. I'll-mmh!!" Scott continues to whine as you hit him. "I won't be a brat anymore, fuck! Just stop. Please stop. You're hurting me." He manages to say without any other cries.

Now, it was Sam's turn.

Scott rested his cheek on your thigh, laying on his side on your bed. His left hand was caressing your knee. Your left hand was caressing his cheek meanwhile your right was slapping Sam's cock.

He hisses, laying back on his elbows, watching how you repeatedly beat him. "Fuck.. that feels great." Freak. He got way too into it.. he tried to take your wrist and fuck into your hand. Well, actually, he did do that.. you let him work himself up. Before he came, you removed your hand and he was pissed.

And unexpectedly, he was able to cum with one more hit to his cock.

"We should do this again sometime." Sam smirks. "Don't you think it's a good idea Scott? Wasn't that so much fun?"

Scott gazes at his brother. "Mm-mm." He hums like a child and hides his face back into your thigh. Honestly, you liked when he got like this. He was gonna be so sweet and touchy the rest of the night.

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

[thewritingfairy]

BATFAMM WHEN I CATCH U

I just wanted to grab Bruce Jason and Barbara not to mention dick through the screen n beat ‘em for all the DUMB SHI they said in this fic. Bruce talking bout “what happened to the sweet little kid I used to know?” YOU NEVER KNEW THEM?? Only relaying on Alfred’s bitch ahh words and not seeing them for yourself like you barely cared when Jason (HYPOCRITE) beat em why care now? 🤷🏻‍♀️ OH AND WHEN HE THOUGHT HE WAS BEING SMART N SHIT? The mean mug I gave to my phone was true

Jason tryna act all big n bad to my boy duke like js stop your embarrassing yourself. I would have spat on his face in pure anger if I was duke ngl like i totally get his disgust towards them, UGHH HE MAKES ME MAD AND DICK? Yk what they say birds of a feather flock together 2 peas In a pod head ahh like they really suit each simply because they both act as if they’re righteous and good all bc they suddenly started caring for they sibling far to little, it almost feels like out of obligation more than out of guilt which is BARELY showing in their actions, bffr they could’ve had brains damage in the past and they still wouldn’t have cared

And last but not least Barbara talking bout “they clearly don’t know how to take care of themselves ” girl they have been doing it for YEARS?? Like you barely even know them and you started making assumptions based of a few files🧍🏻‍♂️ UGHH THEY ALL MADE ME SO MAD IN TS CHAPTER

SORRY FOR THE RANT AGAINN you did such an amazing job and I gobbled ts shit up like it was last meal on earth, continue your GLORIOUS work and have a great day/night/evening TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF XOXO

Story mentioned: જ⁀➴Nobody's child, specific chapter: ↪ 10. Duke is done

I love writing thanks to these reactions, I am so glad you enjoy my story<333

But yeah Duke was the best, because let's be honest, they are acting out of guilt but it seems like it's from obligation because they still think you only deserve the bare minimum, but they think that the bare minimum isn't that. They are quite delusional as fuck.

But absolutely, they don't know shit about (Name) or their health.

They can all fuck off :)

and dw they'll get worse :D

[delicateperspective]

I think people who assume Harry is completely free tend to overlook a lot—especially things he shows during his concerts and in some interviews. Starting with the queercoding, but also those really vulnerable moments. You can literally see it in his face what it means to him when he waves a rainbow flag. And when he says things like “that doesn’t happen to people like me”—it’s heavy.

And I don't blame them because Harry's public image has been pushed very hard, especially with dwd and that stunt with the director. But If you really pay attention to the details, it’s pretty clear that Harry isn’t fully free. He’s just doing what he can, playing the game with everything he’s learned along the way.

I’m sure he’s negotiated as much freedom as possible over time, and what we see is a gradual result of that. I really hope in this next chapter, with all the leverage he’s gained, he’s been able to secure even more freedom.

I honestly just wish the best for both H and L.

yes exactly. you put it so well — that’s the thing about public perception. in order to see H & L the way that some people do, you have to be willing to accept a version of events that genuinely doesn’t make sense unless you ignore… well, everything.

to believe that version, you have to believe that:

harry was a womanizer from the very beginning. that he dated half the girls at bootcamp and then moved on to older, high-profile women who just happened to boost his image (taylor, kendall, olivia). that he’s a commitment-phobe who’s never had a long-term relationship. that he leans into queercoding and wears obviously queer clothing just to sell albums — even when he doesn’t know he’ll be photographed. that he writes intimate songs about home, about loving the same person through every season of life — despite having no personal experience with any of that. and that he deliberately distanced himself from the other boys in the band — especially louis — because he thought he was better than them.

louis, meanwhile, apparently changed his entire personality between 2011 and 2013 for no reason. that he got angry at a magazine for implying he supports LGBTQ+ rights. that he got a triangle on his achilles heel because he just… liked the shape. that he wears t-shirts and brands with overt queer symbolism (Tchaikovsky, All Out, Only the Brave, Maison Margiela) without realizing or caring what they mean — even though he loves fashion. that he used to call himself “camp” and “flamboyant” all the time, but only as a joke. and that he had a long-term girlfriend during the band, which is clearly why no fans ever had a shot — not because he was gay.

and that’s just the surface level stuff.

the more you pay attention, the worse it gets.

you have to eat a lot of narrative gymnastics to believe that version. honestly? in some cases, you have to make more illogical leaps than even the most unhinged larries do. you have to completely discredit every contestant who’s ever spoken out about x factor. every person who’s criticized modest management. every lyric change — like: “women just don’t feel right”, “i’m hoping someday i could be open”, “i can’t compete with my boyfriend”, "hopelessly devoted to Lou", etc. — has to be chalked up to coincidence or queerbaiting or… misheard. and you have to believe that none of it means anything — even when it obviously does.

i’ll always go back to the metaphor harry gave us in the As It Was music video — the red pill and the blue pill. just like in The Matrix: the red pill means you wake up and see the truth. the blue pill means you stay in a comfortable illusion.

so many people would rather take the blue pill. and honestly? i don’t blame them. it’s easier. it’s lighter. it doesn’t force you to confront how corrupt the industry is. how normal homophobia still is. how much trauma they endured. to accept that kind of truth — especially about people you love — takes a toll.

because once you see it, you can’t unsee it. you’ll always question the narrative. you’ll always feel that unease when something doesn’t add up. you’ll always see through the bullshit.

and yeah — sometimes I wish i could close my eyes too. especially in this world, in this moment, where everything is already so heavy. but i can’t.

so we keep paying attention. we keep listening between the lines. we keep hoping the next chapter brings them more peace, more truth, and more freedom.

because they’ve earned it. and they deserve it.

[nellie-elizabeth]

The Handmaid's Tale: Shattered (6x07)

This was... a singularly frustrating experience, I'm not going to lie. I didn't hate everything indiscriminately, but I was having such a hard time with a lot of what happened here. I'm going to try and untangle some of that.

Cons:

So, the Nick thing. The Nick thing. Ahem. Last week I worried that we were going to be asked by the show's framing itself to be anti-Nick after this, and what we got was such a weird version of that playing out. Here's the thing: Nick doing what he did, it had really bad consequences, and it would totally track for June to be mad at him for it, maybe even think that she hated him. But rationally, Nick is right that this isn't some sort of singular breaking point that's worse than all the other shit the two of them have pulled over the years. And I think the show wants me to believe that Nick is Bad Now because of this, and I just... I don't? I kept thinking about all the ways I could have bought into this more. One avenue would be to do an actual corruption arc for Nick, gradually over time. Show him actually liking the perks of being a Commander, show him enjoying having power, even if he doesn't agree with everything. But we never saw that. He's always been uncomfortable and terrified in Gilead. Another option, have his father-in-law have more explicit proof about the death of those two guards, that could point a finger at Nick, and have Nick explain to June that if he hadn't given up the plan, once the bombs went off Nick would be put on the wall for it if there were any survivors at all.

The framing of this whole scenario, the way June is processing it as this abject, unforgivable betrayal, all the bullshit about "I trusted him for so long that I forgot who he was" like... what do you mean, June? You forgot what, exactly? He's just trying to fucking survive in there. And Lawrence pissed me off saying that June was stupid to trust him all along, because again: footage not fucking found, Joseph. He's actually been incredibly trustworthy and done everything that's been asked of him, putting himself at more and more risk every time, and then when he was backed into a corner he found a way to get himself out of it. The consequences suck, yes, but this isn't some heel turn, and it was bizarre how the characters surrounding it treated it as if it was.

And don't get me started on Luke, calling Nick a Nazi, being all self-righteous and going off on June about the Nick situation. Once again I found myself thinking, well, if this show were going to develop and resolve these elements properly, this sign of simmering anger and resentment from Luke would be the downfall of their marriage at last. June would realize that being scolded back to back by Nick and Luke both, that Nick was the one who had a valid point, whereas Luke basically does not. But instead, it seems like the show wants to frame Luke as the objectively correct one in this scenario, and June has to apologize to him for everything.

I don't want to harp on too long, but it just felt like if this was the direction you wanted the story to go, it was such a weird way to handle it. Like, what was that scene with Nick and Rita? He's just a pouty little baby now? Is this a way to engender our sympathy, or to make us hate him? I literally couldn't tell, because it just didn't feel like the character we know.

I hate to say this, because I don't want Janine to die, but honestly if she had it would be a stronger emotional anchor for why June is in this headspace now, this idea that Nick is "unforgivable." Because it's not his fault all those women were killed, but if Janine had died, June having the irrational feeling that it was all on Nick would track a lot better, since that's a personal friend and someone she feels so much protective instinct for.

I also want to do a bit of eye-rolling about Serena. I feel like they have a charismatic actor who can imbue her performances with a lot of nuance and depth, and then a script that doesn't actually keep up with who the fuck this woman is supposed to be? Like, June says that Serena's narcissism is going to be the downfall of Gilead. Is that accurate? Is Serena not a True Believer but in fact just power-hungry? I mean, okay, I guess, but that doesn't exactly track consistently through the show. And that scene with the other wives was so weird, like she was trying to bring feminism to them. They're all saying "well, my husband thinks..." and then Serena is like "but what do YOU think" and it's just a little... like... girl, this is all far too little far too late. It's actually blood-boiling to hear her considering the Handmaid's fates now, baffled that these other women don't seem to give a shit, when it's like... Serena! You fucking helped set this shit in motion, and you're only now considering the broader consequences? I don't know what the show wants me to think about this character. Is she going to die in a fiery explosion on her wedding day? Is she going to discover the plot and then learn that her husband sucks and then do a last minute reversal and help May Day pull off the revolution? Both seem equally likely with what they've given us so far, and that's not a compliment. I don't understand her.

A smaller point that I want to make sure I address is that it feels like Moira has been totally wasted this season as a character. It's like they don't know what to do with her, she has to follow around in June's shadow and be pulled into her wake, and that's about it. Sure, we know she feels resentment, we saw that last episode with their fight. But here she is again, following June back into Gilead and then asking June to be the leader and give her inspiring words. I don't know structurally what should have been going on with Moira this season, but it feels like they just kinda stuck her into the sides of things to see if she'd fit, and it's a bummer.

Pros:

Okay, well, I think I need to go back to what I've been saying all season, which is that there are a lot of talented performers in this show who can really lock into some great dynamic moments. Bad architecture, good gargoyles. So if I can set aside the broader context that's bugging me so much, I can highlight some performance moments that I did like.

For one, I like that June didn't yell and scream at Nick, she was kind of cold and numb as she processed what had happened. She was a lot more hurt than she was angry, and I did like that in concept, like, the way it clashed with the May Day people when she gets back and she has to tell them that it's her fault the information leaked. She has to bear their understandable anger, and all the while she feels like she's grieving a breakup. And I like that Nick at least said his piece a little bit, reminding June of all the shit that she's taken for granted, seemingly. He's absolutely right that she's used his role as a Commander to suit her without ever grappling fully with the reality of that. I wish that I trusted the show to develop this idea more fully and have June realize that he's absolutely right, but I don't think that's going to happen.

I like that Lawrence is here to help, because honestly it tracks for his character that he'd only be motivated by his own well-being to do something this extreme, but he's been so uncomfortable and so unhappy in the world he created for so long, you do believe he'd find it worthwhile to tear it down if he can do so without incurring too much risk. It makes sense that we've finally reached his tipping point.

Janine... Jesus Christ. The moment where she comes to the window and Lydia sees her beaten black and blue... it's almost cartoonishly over the top, how much of a villain Bell is, but that small moment of Janine making herself known to Lydia was interesting to me. Was that Janine reaching out in the only way she could to ask for help or to form a connection with someone who, however fucked up it may be, seems to care for her? Or was that Janine's one and only way of telling Lydia: "I fucking told you so." Or was it both? I do like the nuance there. And I like that Nick tells June he's going to try and find out about Janine, and that Lawrence delivers the news to June about her being alive, it's such a weird network of secret-keepers.

I think that's about it for things I liked? I don't know. I wasn't miserable watching this episode, but I wasn't pleased either. This feels like the setup for an endgame that is probably mostly going to annoy me. And that's too bad, because I want a show like this to end in a way that feels big and bold. I'd rather they strike out trying something insane rather than trip and just sort of fall over the finish line. The latter is what I'm concerned is going to happen here. But I guess we'll have to wait and see.

5/10

[yuukei-yikes]

idr if ive sent an ask like this before but. im sending it again if so.

forever thinking about how shintaro lost all three of his only friends on the same day. the anniversary of his dad dying, too.

so yeah. while he is extremely cringefail. i would shut myself in for four years too if that happened to me. like understandable have a nice day.

shintaro goes thru the horrors and we should talk about that more. like almost every route, on or near the anniversary of his dad and three of his only friends dying, he has to like. we all know it varies on who dies but in general he has to witness at least some of his new friends die.

paired with retaining. top ten characters that go thru it. shintaro wouldnt be number one bc hibiya and kano but hed be like. number three? i guess?

deciding on Who suffers more is a little pointless because it feels kind of bad to be like so what's worse? pretending to be your sister's corpse or a timeloop of 10 years? Like both are bad

however ur so right. shintaro is my little meow meow cringe fail idiot prince. something i love about kagepro and i think it's genuinely really well done is the representation of mental health. shintaro loses all 3 of his friends in one day, of course he's going to react like this. he's even under the impression one of them killed herself directly because of him. this guy's a messssss. iirc, in the novels at one point he even says why was i the only one left? so he definitely also had a bit of survivor's guilt there as well. tbh i think everyone in the dan had some survivor's guilt in regards to the person they died with. why was i chosen and not them? cause in kido's pov it also sounds like that when talking abt rin.

anywaysss. so shintaro is a funny guy. depressed king and with reasons to be sad and traumatized, he's got a strong sense of justice and always acts on what he thinks is right. it's funny that he's also so painfully awkward and anxious, but i think the whole beginning arc of kagepro really tells u who he is. shintaro is shown not being able to even TALK to customer service employees, cause he mumbles everything and stumbles over his words, yet like an hour later he's YELLING AT AN ARMED ROBBER THATS GRABBING HIM BY THE NECK. BOY WHAT😭 shintaro's principles always coming on top of anything else he might be feeling is awesome. it shows again in novel 7 when he's kinda awesome and smooth facing saeru and right after falls to his knees bc mary and kido said it wasn't That cool.

and this is all without mentioning retaining eyes. bro post str shintaro. what a delight. i love him. i wrote a stupid shintaro&takane fanfic once where i sorta go into it of how weird it is for him to live past That august, with everything he knows now. if u care here's a link *kicks rock*

shintaro is already pretty self centered as is. but i think very early on post str, now that retaining has been activated, all the routes bleed together and makes him very confused. and this time forever because retaining has been activated and he's. going to be alive from now on. no more resets. so he HAS to deal with it.

a genius or not, a human brain isn't Made to hold onto different memories of different lifetimes like this, so i think post str shintaro can't help being insensitive to others (in that fanfic i wrote, shintaro realizes him and takane in this final route never talked about her as ene, so while to him it was normal bc of retaining, she was still needing some closure on it)

and now ill mention my kagefuture bullshit SORRY!!! SORRY!!! idk if u even read my fancomic but basically shintaro is acting a little stupid in there. like acting without thinking stupid. i find it very fun to imagine an older shintaro doing that because he's spent so much time Stressing about what's happening and what's going to happen because it's finally different from other routes and that's scary, that to get to the point where he's a little more chill about it, it's inadvertently accomplished by Not Thinking. i like to imagine him living day to day without thinking of what will happen later because if he does that he'll spiral. so he sort of ends up in these weird situations like man. how did i not see this one coming

[ronearoundblindly]

I love every single one of your 'Who Would' posts! You do such a good job of making each character consistent no matter how much source material you have to work with. I have a question to add to the list if it sparks anything for you: how would they get out of the friend zone?

💗 I'm so glad you've enjoyed them! I do think about these way too much and love that they've been fun for everybody! 💗

There are so many ways this could happen, but since I have another ask regarding how they'd convince you to date them after rejecting them once, let's talk from the specific scenario: you've met but immediately treated each other as friends, no discussion or indication of more being possible due to tone of meeting. Imagine, say, one of you was in a relationship at the time...or something. No warnings.

James Mace

(He's got a bestie tale.) Patience. He won't push, he doesn't make remarks about him doing things for you like a boyfriend would, but he won't let you dismiss him out of hand either. If you joke about how he 'could never date you' for blah-blah-blah reason, and it's flat out untrue, Mace will speak up. If you joke that you're single because of blah-blah-blah, Mace will correct that logic. There is nothing you do that makes him not want to date you. He won't let you tell people that or think that way.

Lloyd Hansen

Literally, he just gets rid of anyone else you're interested in until you settle on him. He already peacocks enough, so that's clearly not helping him. Everyone in the way has got to go...

Curtis Everett

Curtis...uh...oh boy, Curtis. He spends a period of time behaving like a boyfriend--ultra-supportive and attentive--without the perks, until then stopping once you show interest in another guy. If and when you notice the change or ask about it, he explains he won't be that way if another is supposed to be. Absolutely intends for this to make anyone else you're interested in look like a schmuck. He gets out of the friend zone by deprivation.

Steve Rogers

(Wrote one of those, too.) Steve's only real recourse is an honest conversation where he admits he will always be your friend but he wants to be more. If you don't, fine, he'll leave it alone, but you know he has the saddest, puppy-dog eyes and slumped shoulders while preparing himself for the worse answer.

Bucky Barnes

I can't find who wrote one of these recently 🥲, but Bucky resides as the guard dog in your life while deciding on how best to approach you with his true feelings. He chooses a moment when a different relationship has crumbled for you because it's easier to confess his love and lift your spirits at the same time.

Ari Levinson & Johnny Storm

Shockingly the same with minor nuance, Ari and Johnny show off as much as possible until you notice them romantically. They are highly social and often touchy-feely flirtation for fun with kinda everybody, so this is not a very good strategy. It can be hard to tell from their behavior that their feelings for you are different from how they feel about other good friends.

(Whole series for Ari lol) Now for the slight difference, though it will take both of these guys longer to figure out for themselves that they want you as more than just a friend, Ari takes the longest. Johnny is more care-free by nature, tries lots of stuff out constantly, and thinks outside the box more, so he processes "hey there's something else here worth exploring." Ari, however, is slightly more rigid and can get in a routine easily. He is more concerned with upsetting the status quo between you than Johnny would be.

Jake Jensen

Oh, wow, soooo bad at this. He goes from resignation, to acting aloof, to encouraging you to go hit on that guy over there... Jake sorta attempts reverse psychology but misses the mark entirely. He's a disaster until you joke that he likes you--it is an honest joke fwiw--but he cracks like an egg! He word-vomits the whole thing and kisses you (isn't this kinda Audio/Visual? do I write these a lot, too??)

Andy Barber

Andy is 100% a long-hauler in this case. He finds ways to invite you and involve you in non-couple activities that happen to feature tons of couples. He never introduces you as his 'friend', just by name, to let people assume and make them mention how good you two look together. Whenever you--because he waits in silence while you correct them--specify you and Andy are not a couple, he takes the opportunity to say 'I don't know' when asked why. He absolutely sits pretty until you reach a point of being romantically needy, and that's when Andy swoops in. However, he never makes you feel bad about how long it took to get together. Never.

Ransom Drysdale

Ran is passive aggressive about how trashy anyone you show interest in is. Just so hyper-critical. Unfortunately, his only real move is to find a way to make you in debt to him before saying you could also just be his.

Jimmy Dobyne

Somehow the worst at this (???), but he has to get trash drunk to admit he wants to be more to you. That's pretty much Jimmy's approach because he refuses to act better or more desirable to you. He only ever acts like himself, no pretense, no games, no finesse. He is how he is, but dear god does he wish he were more to you.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Who Would...Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[xoxo-ches]

enemies to lovers: suna x reader

ah yes enemies to lovers my fav trope😋 use of y/n

warnings: some cussing

Although you and Suna could have been good friends because of how alike you are, it turns out it's the reason you guys are not friends. Both of you guys had attitudes, endless side remarks, and nosiness. Maybe it was some sort of competition that was going on to cause it all, but you didn't care, you hated him with your whole soul. No one else pushed your buttons like he did.

On one particular day, after a whole week of your boyfriend being an ass, he broke up with you. Your now ex had blocked you on everything with little to no explanation. So when you went to school that day you weren't in the mood for Suna, or anyones bullshit. What's even worse is that as a school extracurricular you had chosen to be a manager for the volleyball team and god forbid on days like this you had to put up with him for two hours straight.

You came to school with a bare face, hoodie, opted for school pants instead of the skirt. Keeping a rbf on your face letting everyone know you were to be left alone today, you went through your classes, thankfully never running into the evil man, Suna. Sure enough though you went to practice and saw him and his smirk. He was videoing the twins fighting as per usual, and unlike your per usual routine you ignored them and went straight to filling up water bottles.

After you had completed filling them up you walked back into the gym area, you could feel Sunas eyes on you but you didn't want to engage in your usual banter. Usually it would leave you annoyed and frustrated but a fight today with your state of mind could end up with tears. That's not exactly what you wanted him to see. The whole team to see.

But Suna walked up to you and as you looked up from the bench, he smirked.

"There a reason you look homeless today or did you just give up?"

You glared at him, "Actually I have no reason to get dressed up for you, my time is too precious for that."

'"Hm, I was thinking you might've secretly liked me but I suppose not."

"pff in your dreams smartass", you got up from the bench, stepping around him, "that would never happen"

The coaches called your name, and you gladly walked away from him, going to see what they needed help with.

The rest of practice went on as typical, the drills, the 3 on 3's but Suna had upped him game with his jabs. Each one more annoyingly irritating than the last. Arguing how the drills worked after you explained it more than three times, constantly asking you to tend to him,

"y/n, I'm just so dehydrated today can you be nice to me for once and get me more water?"

"Can you get a towel for me, manager?"

You about had enough by the time you guys had to put the nets up and the balls away. And then you just had to go to pick one of those balls up then slip on water. You fell on your ass. Hard.

"y/n are you okay?" asked Kita running up to you and Osamu, who was nearby, picked you up by your hand.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine" you said with an exasperated sigh, "probably my own for not looking where I was going haha"

"Wow, dummy, looks like you've really made yourself look stupid this time." Suna laughs

You turn to see Suna sauntering over, hands in his pants. Walking away from Osamu and Kita who said "Suna, really?" at different times.

"Are you seriously laughing and making fun of me right now?" You exclaimed, raising your voice.

"Yeah I am, you gonna do anything about it y/n?"

"Maybe I will, I've had a long ass day and it started off pretty shitty so maybe I will do something about it."

"Oh really? And what could've happened to make you sooo pissy?" Suna walls closer to you, that stupid leer on his face. Everyone is the gym watching and holding their breaths as they witness what seems to be a snapping point.

"I got broken up with, which is something you have probably experienced plenty because of what a jerk ass you are" you say, not backing away from this banter.

Suna is now in your face noses almost inches within each other, "Oh you did? Well thank goodness for that, you shouldn't have been able to be with him if the first place."

"Excuse me? How about you wipe that face off, and turn around and fuck off"

Everyone in the gym took a deep breath in. Suna just smiled bigger and then whispered into you ear, your body going taunt, impulsive thoughts about smacking him coming in your mind.

"Anything you say dear, though I suppose what I meant was, I should have been there first."

You gawk as he lifts his head away from you and begins to walk out, grabbing his stuff. What did he mean by that? Was that a compliment of some sort?

"The hell do you mean by that?" You shout after him.

"figure it out, dummy"

He walks out the door.

lemme know if you want a part two😋 also this is not proofread lol so sorry😗

[ambroziadelphine]

Patience and Time(Bucky x Rancher!Reader)

—Bucky's POV—

I was drinking my coffee in my room as I heard the impending thud of footsteps coming towards my room. I had another therapist appointment, and it didn't exactly go well; other people telling me how they think I feel never really goes over well with me. Steve opened my door and gave me that disappointed look I hated as I reluctantly turned my body towards him, setting my cup down as he walked in and closed the door behind him.

"Buck, what happened?" He asked, but I just sighed, truthfully unable to answer him. All that woman was trying to do was her job, help him, but he chewed her out and insulted her the moment she scratched even the tiniest bit of the surface. Introductions were fine, but then when they would get to the topics about his well-being, his past, his memories that he was still slowly learning, he hardened. He lashed out because he feared anyone knowing the truth about himself, he didn't know if Steve could look at him if he knew how much Bucky hated what he felt he had become. The civil war between Tony's team and them had taken such a toll on his mental state, even if Tony had reluctantly forgiven him in agreement to keeping the ex-assassin under surveillance and getting him real help to undo what HYDRA did to him. No one realized how hard that may be, though.

"I dont know." I said quietly, and he sighed, running a hand through his hair before looking at me, a little softer as he took in my obviously neglected appearance. He sat at the end of my bed and was quiet for a moment. This was a condition of Tony and the government's agreement to release me and give me a chance to amend my wrongdoings and get better, but it was like I couldn't. 

"We need to figure something out, or they might put you in prison or worse." He said, making me close my eyes and sigh, a few moments of silence crawling over the room as I felt my own guilt of putting Steve in this situation weighs heavy on me. I was about to open my mouth, I didn't know what I wanted to say. apologize? tell him to leave my problems to myself? I didn't have any time to speak, though, before there was a knock at the door and Steve looked at me with furrowed brows, getting up to open it when Nick Fury stood there, expression as unreadable as always.

"I'm sure you understand why Im here, agent Rogers, Mr. Barnes." he said, addressing them both as he walked in, taking an envelope out from his coat pocket. "Due to the persisting attempts to improve your profile and mental status in the eyes of the government having failed thus far, they have decided to give me 2 more months to get some kind of improvement from you." he said and I felt my throat tighten as Steve's face grew concerned.

"2 months? What happens if there's no improvement?" Steve asked and Fury was silent for a moment before pursing his lips, clearly disliking the words that came out of his mouth.

"Mr. Barnes will be placed into official custody and essentially kept in a lockbox until further notice." He said grimly and I felt Steve's eyes turn to me as I stared at the ground, my hands together as I felt like I wasn't even in my body at this moment. So I either somehow get better in the next 2 months, or I'm put in another cage until I'm dead.

"You can't be serious? They expect him to work through decades of brainwashing and torture in just 2 months!" he said, getting up before I sighed and slumped back in my chair, my face burried in my hands as I took a deep breath. "Theres got to be some way to fix this." he said as I sighed again, Fury was quiet for a moment, the air tense as his eye bore into the side of my head like a hot iron.

"Mr. Barnes." I looked at him hesitantly, he looked almost indifferent, like he was void of caring at this moment. He looked out the window for a moment, leaning his elbows on his knees as we both waited for him to speak again. "I do know someone that may help you, but to do that, it means you would temporarily be moved to a different location. She would also require you to do work in order for her to help." he said as Steve looked between him and I for a moment as I thought about his offer. What kind of work? How could some random women help him when the therapists and psychologists couldn't?

"Why are you just telling us this now?" Steve asked as Fury looked at him with a firm stare.

"Because even the knowledge of her very existence is classified to such extremes that only myself and a select few others know about her. I had spoken to her a few months ago to get her help, but she had requested we try other options before turning to her. Hence why I am now telling you." He said as my brows furrowed, why is she so classified? 

"Why is she so classified?" i asked, my voice was rough from not using it very often, always speaking quietly to conceal the emotions always building in my voice seemed to do that. His stare was unsettling as it felt like the air went cold at my question.

"Because she was the first person to ever escape HYDRA."

————

"Are you sure about this, Buck?" Steve asked as I packed my few belongings I was taking. Some habits from never having a place to settle were showing as weeks in my own space went on, it was hard to feel like I could call a place home, even temporarily. I sighed as I paused, shrugging my shoulders before I continued on.

"I dont know." I muttered, zipping the last of the stuff in before Steve put a hand on my shoulder.

"Hey." he said, pulling my shoulder until I faced him and his concerned but hopeful eyes. "I'm staying the first month, alright?" he said and I nodded, giving a small smile.

"Is she putting you to work too?" I asked and he scoffed and put the packed suitcases in the corner by the door.

"You didnt think youd get to have all the fun, did you?" He asked as I chuckled lightly, shaking my head before he looked at me sincerely. "I'm serious though. You need me at any point while we are there, you can always come to me, and even when I come back here, you can call me at any time, day or night and I will pick up. Got it?” He said, his eyes soft as I felt a small pit in my stomach. I’ve relied on him so much, how could I keep doing that when I know it’s a stressor on him?

“Got it.” I said, giving him a small smile and nod before we both got everything together and headed to the helicarrier where Fury was waiting.

————

“So, how far away is this place?” Steve asked as he stared out over the oceans we passed, Nick leaned back in his chair looking at his ipad, glancing up at him before glancing outside then back down.

“Very far.” He said as I internally scoffed, rolling my eyes at his vague answer. He glanced at me and smirked. “Getting a little impatient, Mr. Barnes?” He asked as I paused, not realizing my leg was bouncing before as I stilled it forcefully, trying to ignore the growing nerves in me.

“Nervous, might be more accurate.” I muttered, looking down as I leaned my elbows on my knees. It was quiet for a moment before Nick got up, walking over to the pilot as he gave a small hum.

“Not much to be nervous about. She’s done this more times than you’d think.” He said with an indifferent tone, turning to Steve and I who looked on in confusion. “You aren’t the only HYDRA subject to have had struggles adjusting to current life. The only difference this time is that normally she finds people like you even before we do.” He said as my eyes widened. So, she specifically helps ex-HYDRA subjects? At least that explains why she can apparently help.

“If she’s done this before, why did she have you try other options before her?” Steve asked as Fury paused, looking at me calmly before sighing.

“Because the Winter Soldier was known across all HYDRA bases. The risk of a current member of her community having interacted with you during your time with HYDRA was.. Is very high.” He said as I felt a lump form in my throat. Some people there will know what I’ve done more than I do, I might have hurt some of them. Fuck, what if everyone there hates me? What if she hates me and that’s why she didn’t want me to come at first? I put my face in my hands as I let out a shaky breath, Steve putting a light hand on my back as Fury looked at us. 

“What if someone does recognize him? Does she have a plan in case someone holds a grudge from before or something?” Steve asked as Fury nodded.

“There are a few different houses in her community, each person has their own room and she assigns you to a house based on what level of support she deems a person needs.” He explained, taking a few steps until he was in front of me. “To ensure your safety, and that your care is put on priority, you two will be staying in her house. She only houses at most 2 people in her own home at a time, so she has made appropriate arrangements to keep you safe and as comfortable as possible for your stay.” He said as I nodded, a pause coming from him before he looked at Steve.

“I have also given her permission to attempt to remove the trigger words programming from him. You are to sit in when she does this to ensure he does not hurt her when this happens.” He said and I felt my body tense. God please, I don’t want anyone using those words again on me. Steve looked at me in worry before looking back at fury.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” He asked as Fury nodded.

“I have complete trust that she can handle this.” He said, a moment of silence as he looked at Steve’s unconvinced face before he sighed, doing something on his ipad before he gave it to me. “Her name is Flora Martinez. I think her life experience alone should give you a better idea of why she is specially equipped to handle this.” He said, moving to sit back down as my eyes scanned over her file. No photo, but there were basics of how she was found, how she says she escaped, then my eyes landed on her age and I felt my breath stop.

“Born in 1743?” I asked quietly, Steve looking over my shoulder as his own wide eyes turned to Fury who had a small smirk resting on his face as he closed his eye, pretending to sleep.

“How is she still alive?” He asked, Fury peaked his eye open.

“I asked her the same question when I met her. I still haven’t got an answer.” He said as I sat back in shock at this before my brows furrowed.

“So, I’m supposed to be getting help from some old lady literally on death's door, or be forever confined to a concrete room.” I said, scoffing slightly as I closed my eyes. “Might as well throw me in the room now.” I sighed, Steve lightly smacking my flesh arm making me turn and glare at him.

“Hey, don’t talk like that.” He said before his eyes softened. “Please Buck, just give this a chance.” He pleaded, making me sigh, nodding as Fury’s smirk never left his face, a small quiet settling over us as I looked over the minimal information about her. For being almost 300 years old, SHIELD really doesn’t have that much on her.

[runningincircl3s]

Sinematic

Vinny Mauro x Reader

Chapter 12

chapter warnings: smut again i just can't help myself lmao (and this is kind of a filler chapter haha, and i wrote it before i changed the plot so sorry if it feels kinda out of place!)

a vinny drum stream would fix me rn i've had a week from hell, and i haven't even had the time to write which always makes me feel better :( anyways i kinda love this chapter it's pretty chaotic, editing it felt like a fever dream lmao

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Neither of you talked about what happened after that night. You pretended it never even happened, not to each other, but it always played on both your minds. Neither of you wanted to talk about it out of fear. You knew it shouldn’t have happened, but you both enjoyed it, so why was it such a problem?

You could hear Vin watching something on his phone, assuming he must be sat on the couch, as you walked down the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Vin asked, stopping you in your tracks as you reached for your keys.

You glanced up to see him sprawled out on the couch- in the very spot it happened- one arm behind his head, the other holding his phone. His eyes were still glued to the screen, like he was only half-invested in the conversation, but you knew better.

“Grocery store.” That got his attention. His head snapped up, a smirk on his lips. 

“Finally.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, your eyes narrowing. 

“Nothing… Just that you’ve been living off my food for days now.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing your keys. 

“Whatever, asshole. I'll text you when I'm on my way back.” You laughed, turning to the door. 

“Can I come?” Vin asked, sitting up. 

That made you pause. 

“To the grocery store?”

“Yeah.” He stood, stretching his arms over his head, his shirt riding up just slightly to expose a sliver of skin. “I’ve got nothing better to do.”

You hesitated, knowing full well that letting him tag along would mean constant distractions and a cart full of junk food, but the way he was already grabbing his shoes like it was a done deal made it clear you didn’t have much of a choice.

“Fine.” You sighed, though a part of you was happy to have him join you. "But we can't be too long, I've got plans tonight."

Vinny grinned, pulling his hoodie over his head and slipping his shoes on.

…

You regretted it immediately.

The moment you stepped into the store, Vinny was like a kid let loose in a candy shop.

“Do we need these? I think we've run out of this flavour.” He held up a pack of pop tarts. 

“No, put it back.”

He dropped it into the cart anyway.

“Vinny!”

“What?” He grinned. “You’ll eat them too.”

You let out a dramatic sigh, pushing the cart forward as he trailed beside you, tossing in things you definitely didn’t need. Chips, cookies, some different flavoured energy drinks. Every time you tried to put something back, he’d snatch it away from you and toss it back in with a look of pure defiance.

“You realise all this stuff is bad for you, right?”

“Yeah, and?” He shrugged, popping open a bag of gummy bears and throwing one into his mouth before you could stop him.

“Vin! You can’t eat that before paying for it!”

He only smirked. 

“What you gonna do about it?”

“I should’ve left you at home.” You groaned. 

As you made your way through the store, Vinny found ways to make it as annoying as possible- suddenly stepping in front of the cart so you had to stop, grabbing random items and insisting you needed them, playing obnoxious tiktok audios on his phone way too loudly.

It was like going shopping with a child. 

It was worse than going shopping with a child.

You turned the corner and immediately slowed your pace, recognising the aisle.

Vinny followed behind, but stopped when he saw where you were headed.

“Wait. Is this…?”

“Yes,” you sighed. “The period aisle.”

He blinked at the endless wall of pastel packaging like it was an alien language.

“Christ. Don't they all do the same thing? Why are there so many options?”

You scanned the shelves, before muttering,

“Shit- I forgot painkillers. Can you grab me the night time pads? It should be a purple pack, and make sure it's the one with wings.”

“Purple pack. Wings. Got it.” He nodded like he’d just been given a military mission.

You took off toward the pharmacy section while he turned back to the shelf, immediately overwhelmed.

Ten seconds later, your phone buzzed.

Vinny: I’m sorry but this is possibly the only time I'm going to get the opportunity to actually say this

Vinny: Babe I'm in the pad aisle what size pussy you wear

You stared at your screen, horrified and laughing all at once.

You found the painkillers you needed, then returned to the aisle to find him standing there with five different packs in hand, looking like a lost child.

“Vin...”

“I panicked.”

You took the right one from him and dumped the rest back on the shelf.

“You had one job.”

“I tried! But they all had different numbers and I had too google what it meant, then suddenly I was knee-deep in absorbency levels and wondering if I needed a menstrual engineering degree.”

You shook your head, biting back a grin.

“You’re the worst.”

“I’m the best,” he corrected. “Also, wings? Fancy. Your vagina deserves air travel.”

“Vinny.”

“What?”

You rolled your eyes, pushing the cart again.

“Come on. And don’t say ‘vagina’ in public again. Or anywhere-”

“VAG-”

You smacked a hand over his mouth before he could finish, laughing anyway.

You tried to avoid the seasonal aisle after spotting a giant teddy bear. You hoped Vin didn't see it, but when you heard his gasp and saw him point at something, you knew what it was going to be.

“I’m getting this.” He picked it up, it was almost as big as him.

You stared at him, deadpan. 

“Vin. You’re a grown man.”

“And? You still sleep with stuffed animals.”

You sighed- he had a point. And you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t cute.

“Fine. Put it in the cart. But that's it.”

Vinny grinned victoriously, tossing it in like he’d just won a battle.

By the time you made it to checkout, the cart was a disaster. Half your items you actually needed for the week were buried under bags of chips, candy, and now the giant teddy. 

“You’re paying for all your shit.” You informed him as you started packing it away into bags.

Vinny raised an eyebrow. 

“But you invited me.”

“I did not. You invited yourself.”

“You let me come. Same thing.”

You groaned, shoving the bag of open gummy bears at him. 

“Then at least hold your own junk.”

Vinny only laughed, throwing an arm around your shoulders as he grabbed the bag. 

“You love me.”

“I tolerate you.” You smirked, but didn’t push him away. 

As you loaded everything into the car, an idea crossed your mind.

You weren’t done shopping just yet. 

“I’m not ready to go home yet.”

Vinny leaned against the car. 

“So where to next?”

You thought for a moment, then grinned. 

“Wanna go to the mall?”

“Are you buying me something?”

“No.” You snorted. 

Vin sighed dramatically, but still opened the car door and got in. 

…

The mall was packed, full of couples, groups of teenagers, and parents wrangling their kids from store to store. You weaved through the crowd, Vinny trailing behind you, holding your bags for you after you bought something.

“Look at you, being a gentleman.” You teased.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “Just don’t make me hold anything embarrassing.”

You smirked. 

“Define embarrassing.”

Vinny gave you a wary look, and you decided now was the perfect time to take things up a notch.

The moment you passed a lingerie store, you stopped.

Vinny, who had been focused on his phone, didn’t realise where you were leading him at first. But when he noticed you weren’t walking anymore, he turned, following your gaze to the store.

“Oh, no. No way.”

You glanced at him, feigning innocence. 

“What?”

He gestured vaguely to the store, looking mildly horrified. 

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” he said, already taking a step back, “I should not be in there with you.”

You tilted your head. 

“Why? Friends can shop for lingerie together, right? Me and Ang do it all the time!”

Vinny squinted. 

“You are evil.”

You didn’t wait for him to come up with another excuse. You just grabbed his wrist and pulled him inside.

As you walked in, you were met with displays of lace and silk. Vinny stiffened beside you, eyes darting everywhere except at what was hanging on the racks.

“You can wait outside if you want.” You offered, knowing full well he wouldn’t.

He scoffed, still continuing to follow on behind you.

“Okay. Suit yourself.” You smirked.

You took your time browsing, running your fingers over delicate fabrics, considering different sets. Every so often, you glanced at Vinny, who was clearly uncomfortable and a little flustered but trying to act like he wasn’t.

At one point, you held up a black lace set. 

“What do you think?”

His jaw tightened. 

“I think I’m in hell.”

You laughed, setting it back down, before grabbing a dark red set (his favourite colour, if you remember correctly) and holding it against your body, tilting your head as you inspected yourself in the mirror.

You pretended not to notice how Vin bit down on his lip as he watched you in the mirror.

“That one’s pretty.” You heard him say, and you pretended like you couldn’t feel your cheeks heating up. 

“You think I should get it?”

“And who would you be wearing it for?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“For me,” you scoffed. “Can’t a girl want to look hot for herself?”

You meet his gaze in the mirror, and something in his eyes made butterflies flutter in your stomach. 

It lasts for only a second before Vinny clears his throat, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Are you done torturing me yet?”

You bite back a grin. 

“Yeah, I think so. I’m buying this one.”

As you make your way to the checkout, Vinny follows close behind, and as you are about to take out your card to pay, he stops you, handing you his own. 

You feel your heart skip a beat as he pays for it, pretending you don’t notice the way his gaze lingers on the bag as you take it.

…

“The guys are coming over for dinner, right?” You asked Vin as he walked into the kitchen, filling his glass up with water.

“Yeah, we could order takeout though if there isn’t enough-”

“No! I’ve made plenty for everyone.” You laughed, stirring the pan of pasta. 

“D’ya need any help?” Vin asked after a pause. 

“No, it’s fine. You’re streaming anyway, I don’t want to steal you away from the fans.”

“I just ended it actually,” he said, leaning against the counter as he took a sip from his glass, “They’ll be here soon so I thought I’d get off early.”

“Well if that’s the case, I could do with some help…”

By the time dinner was done, the kitchen smelled incredible. You were just plating up when the door knocked. Vinny shot you a glance as he wiped his hands on a dish towel.

“That’ll be the guys.” He said, walking to the door in no rush.

He opened it, letting his friends in as he greeted them.

“Hey, chef!” AJ greeted, as he passed the kitchen. 

You waved at him, but then you suddenly spotted the pink bag in the hallway that you had forgotten to put away. You had been too caught up in cooking to even take it up to your room after coming home… and AJ noticed, and followed your gaze. 

His smirk was instant.

“Ooooh, what do we have here?”

Your stomach dropped.

Before you could move, he grabbed it, holding it up with an exaggerated wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Someone went lingerie shopping.”

Vinny, who had just reached into the fridge, froze. His eyes darted to you, then to the bag, then back to you. You could practically see the gears turning in his head.

“AJ. Put that down!” You warned.

AJ, of course, did not put it down. Instead, he turned to Vinny, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“So? Is this for you, or should we be concerned about some new mystery man in our life?”

“Oh, she’s got one,” Emil piped up, grinning. “Ciaran.”

Vinny scoffed, finally moving again as he grabbed a few beers from the fridge, and handed them out.

“Please. He’s a fucking joke.”

AJ’s eyes gleamed with mischief. 

“You sound pretty confident about that.”

Vinny cracked open his beer, shooting you a look. 

“Tell them. Tell them how fucking boring he is.”

You frowned, taking the bag from AJ and shoving it aside. 

“No! He’s nice.”

Emil leaned forward. 

“So when are you next seeing him?”

“Tonight actually." You admitted, grabbing your own drink, and ignoring how Vin almost choked on his beer. 

“Since when?” Vin’s eyebrows furrowed, but AJ butted in before you could say anything.

“Perfect. We’re coming too!” He grinned. 

You blinked. 

“Excuse me?”

“Oh yeah,” Emil nodded. “We’re gonna check this guy out, make sure he’s good enough for you!”

Vinny’s expression changed, and now his smirk was downright evil. 

“Oh, we should absolutely do that.”

You glared at all of them. 

“You guys are the worst.”

“It’s called caring.” AJ smiled innocently. 

As dinner went on, the teasing didn’t stop. Every time you thought they’d moved on, someone would drop another sly comment, and Vinny, the little shit, just kept adding fuel to the fire.

And then by the time dinner was finally over, you were seriously reconsidering your life choices.

Vinny leaned back in his chair, beer in hand, and smirked at you. 

“So, what time are you meeting him?”

“In about an hour.” You said, checking the time. 

AJ wiggled his eyebrows. 

“Plenty of time for us to get ready and tag along. Are you dressing up? Should we dress up?”

You groaned. 

“You guys are not coming.”

“Too late,” Emil grinned, stretching his arms behind his head. “We’ve already decided.”

Vinny chuckled, clearly loving the chaos.

“Come on, y/n. It’ll be fun.”

“For who?!” You shot him a glare.

“...For us.” He said simply, taking a sip of his beer.

You huffed, standing up to take your plate to the sink. 

“You guys are the worst, y'know that?”

“And yet, you still love us,” AJ teased, nudging Vinny after you had disappeared. “So, what do you think? We show up, sit at the bar, and keep an eye on things?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Vinny nodded, feigning seriousness. 

…

You sat opposite Ciaran at a small table in the corner of the bar, hoping that the guys wouldn’t spot you when they inevitably turned up. 

The night was going by very well so far, you were getting to know Ciaran better, and he was nothing like what Vin painted him out to be. He was fun, he was kind, he was attractive. 

But then again, he wasn’t Vinny. 

“...So that’s when I said nah I can’t do this anymore and I had to leave.” 

“And then did the band break up because of that?”

“No,” Ciaran sighed, sitting back in his chair, beer in his hand, “I think everyone was just ready to move on, do their own thing.” 

That was when you spotted them. 

Vinny, AJ, and Emil strolled into the bar like they owned the place, they already had a few drinks back at home so they were louder than usual, laughing and nudging each other as they scanned the room. You froze, trying to sink into your seat before they could spot you, but it was no use. AJ’s eyes landed on you first, and his grin was instant.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” You muttered under your breath.

“What?” Ciaran asked, glancing over his shoulder.

“I apologise for anything they say or what they do, they have good intentions I swear.” 

“Who?” He laughs. 

Before you could answer, Emil was already waving, and AJ, because he was the absolute worst, gave an exaggerated gasp and pointed at you like he’d just uncovered some grand conspiracy.

Vinny, of course, was the last to look. When he did, his smirk was lazy, teasing, like he’d been expecting this exact moment. 

Ciaran turned back to you, brows raised. 

“Are they friends of yours?”

“Unfortunately,” you sighed. “Just… Please ignore them.”

Like he could possibly ignore them.

Vinny led the charge, striding over, AJ and Emil right behind him.

“Y/n!” He grinned,  pulling out the empty chair next to you and sat down without asking, draping an arm over the back of it like he belonged there.

“Vin, you’re drunk, go home.” You muttered under your breath, but he didn’t listen.

“Well, well, well,” AJ mused, giving Ciaran a once-over. “Look at this.”

Ciaran blinked, clearly thrown off by the sudden intrusion. 

“Uh, hey?”

AJ and Emil pulled up chairs and joined the three of you. 

“So you’re Ciaran.” Emil nodded slowly. 

Ciaran shot you a questioning look, and you groaned. 

“Ignore them,” you repeated, shooting Vinny a glare, “They’re idiots. And they’re drunk! And I told them to stay at home!”

“Nah, we’re just looking out for our girl. Making sure you’re, you know… up to standard.” Vinny just smirked, picking up the cocktail menu and flipping through it like he had all the time in the world. 

Ciaran let out a small chuckle, clearly trying to keep things light. 

“Well, that’s sweet, I guess.”

“Isn’t it?” Emil grinned.

AJ turned to you. 

“So, what do we think? Any red flags yet?”

“No! You’re my red flag.” You shot back, earning a laugh from Vinny.

Ciaran, to his credit, handled it well. 

“I promise I have good intentions, I like y/n a lot and I promise I’m nothing but kind and respectful,” he said, looking at you with a small smile. “No need to interrogate me.”

Vinny scoffed. 

“Oh, this isn’t an interrogation.”

“Oh?” Ciaran raised a brow. “What is it, then?”

Vinny smirked, tilting his head slightly. 

“A test.”

You groaned again. 

“I hate all of you. Ciaran I’m so sorry.”

Ciaran smirked. 

“You seem to know me, but you guys haven’t introduced yourselves.” He chuckled, sipping his beer. 

“I’m AJ, this is Emil and Vinny. We’re y/n’s full time besties, part time wingmen.” He grinned. 

“Not after tonight you’re not.” You groaned. 

“Oh… I thought I recognised you,” Ciaran nodded at Vin, “You left with him the first time we met.” 

Shit.

“Uh, yeah that’s Vin…”

“The guy you live with?”

“Yep.” Vinny smiled, leaning back in his chair like he didn’t have a care in the world. “That’s me.”

Ciaran nodded, seemingly unfazed. 

“Cool. I figured.”

You didn’t like where this was going. You could practically feel Vinny’s smugness radiating off of him.

AJ, trying to keep things light, leaned forward. You could tell he genuinely wanted to get to know Ciaran, to make sure he was good enough for you. 

“So, Ciaran, tell us more about yourself. What do you do?”

Ciaran shrugged. 

“I work in the music industry, I heard you guys do too… I’m a writer and producer. I used to play in a band, but that fell apart a couple years ago.”

Emil’s eyes lit up. 

“Oh, nice. What did you play?”

“Guitar,” Ciaran said. “I did some vocals, too.”

“Sick,” Emil grins, “I play guitar too.” 

“Well, you probably already know but I’m a drummer,” Vin brags, sitting back in his chair, legs slightly spread, “I play for Motionless in White actually, you might've seen us play at Wrestlemania last year... What band were you in?”

You could feel him getting competitive so you shot him a look. 

“Vin, stop.” 

“What?” He said innocently, taking another sip of his drink as Ciaran talked about his old band.

“...I just like making music. I wasn’t really happy in the band but it was all I knew.”

Emil, who was actually interested now, asked,

“You still play?”

“Yeah, just for fun.”

AJ nodded approvingly.

“That’s cool, man.”

You relaxed a little. Okay, maybe they were going to behave. But you weren't so sure about Vinny.

Then he leaned in. 

“So, Ciaran,” he drawled, “if you had to describe yourself in three words, what would they be?”

You groaned. 

“Vin, oh my god, seriously?”

But Ciaran played along, tilted his head in thought. 

“Uh… chill, I guess? Thoughtful. And… I dunno, easygoing?”

Vinny smirked. 

“Sounds riveting.”

AJ elbowed him. 

“Dude.”

Vinny held up his hands. 

“I’m just saying. This is a test, remember?”

Ciaran just laughed. 

“You really don’t like me, do you?”

Vinny took a long sip of his drink before answering. 

“I don’t know you.”

It was a very Vinny answer, cocky, a little dismissive, but mostly just because he liked messing with people. You rolled your eyes.

Emil, trying to keep the peace, jumped in. 

“You know, I think you’re alright.”

Ciaran raised his beer. 

“I’ll take that.”

AJ smirked. 

“Yeah, you’re not bad. Pretty brave, actually, putting up with this one.” He gestured toward you.

You gasped. 

“Wow. Okay. I’m leaving.”

AJ grinned, throwing an arm around your shoulders before you could escape. 

“Nah, you love us.”

Ciaran laughed, but Vinny just tapped his fingers against the table, eyes flicking between you and Ciaran.

You weren’t sure why, but something about it made your stomach flip.

“Look, man, if you’re just trying to get in her pants-” 

“For fuck sake, drop it, Vinny!” You raised your voice, “Stop!” 

“You weren’t saying that last night-” 

“You’ve got a cool accent, where are you from? Scotland?” Emil asked, ignoring whatever Vin and you were doing. 

“Northern Ireland,” Ciaran nodded, “Belfast.” 

“We’ve been there before!” AJ nodded, “Very cold… What brought you over here?”

“I moved to join the band and just never left I guess. I was originally living in LA but then after the band split I moved in with a friend over here.”

You could still feel Vinny’s eyes on you, even as the conversation moved on. His comment still burned in the back of your mind.

Ciaran, to his credit, didn’t react. You were praying he hadn’t heard. Or maybe he was just choosing not to. Either way, you could feel the shift in the air, like something was about to snap.

“...So now that’s why I’m just writing, producing, and working with smaller artists. It’s a lot more fulfilling than what I was doing before.”

“Sounds like a step up,” AJ smiled.

“Debatable.” Vinny scoffed under his breath. 

You turned to him sharply. 

“Vinny, you’re being rude.”

“What?” He feigned innocence, swirling his drink. “Just saying. Going from being in a band to just producing? Kinda sounds like you gave up.”

Ciaran frowned slightly, but his voice remained even. 

“I didn’t give up. I just figured out what made me happy. And I didn’t feel comfortable on stage performing.”

Vinny tilted his head, smirking. 

“Right. And what makes you happy now?”

Ciaran glanced at you before answering, but Vinny didn’t miss it.

“Writing music,” Ciaran said simply.

Vinny let out a low chuckle. 

“Right,” He took a slow sip of his drink before adding, “Well, at least it’s not someone else’s girl, huh?”

You could feel the rage burning beneath your skin. 

“Oh, you’re one to talk, Vin.” You growled, raising an eyebrow at him. 

AJ and Emil exchanged uneasy glances.

Ciaran tensed slightly, exhaling through his nose before setting his drink down. 

“Right.” His tone was calm, but you could tell Vinny’s words had landed exactly the way he wanted them to. “I think I’m gonna call it a night.”

“Ciaran, no, wait-” you reached for him, but he was already standing, grabbing his jacket.

“Thanks for tonight,” he said, voice still level, but there was a tightness to it. He turned to you, offering a small smile. “I’ll see you around, yeah?”

You swallowed, nodding.

And just like that, he was gone.

…

“What the hell was that all about, hm?” You shouted at Vin as you walked through the door, finally home.

“I got weird vibes from him. I didn't think you liked him anyway.” Vin shrugged, shutting the front door behind him like this was the most casual thing ever.

“Well, I did!” You spat. 

“Yeah, right. He's not your type at all.” He scoffed. 

You turned around, facing Vin with an anger in you that you haven’t felt in a while. 

“Oh you're not serious, are you?” You seethed, stepping closer, your chest rising and falling with frustration. “You don’t get to decide who my type is, if I even have one!”

Vinny smirked, leaning lazily against the wall like he wasn’t the reason you were seconds away from losing your mind. 

“I don’t have to. You just proved my point.”

Your fists clenched at your sides. 

“Oh, enlighten me, asshole. What point is that?”

He took a step forward, closing the space between you.

“You didn’t run after him.” His voice was low, almost smug. “You could’ve chased him down, apologised, told him I was wrong. But you didn’t. You stayed. With me.”

Your breath hitched.

Vinny tilted his head, watching the way his words sank into your skin. 

“You didn’t go after him, y/n, because deep down you didn’t like him. Not the way you wanted to.”

Your heart pounded, anger twisting into something else, something more dangerous.

“You’re such a fucking prick.” Your voice was shaking now, your body thrumming with adrenaline.

“And you love it,” he taunted, voice dripping with arrogance, "Which is why you're not really into him..."

Your jaw clenched, your breath shallow as you stared him down, pulse roaring in your ears.

God, you hated him when he got like this.

You hated how right he was, and he could see it all over your face.

The tension between you was suffocating, your body practically vibrating with rage. Vinny stood there, so goddamn smug, so pleased with himself, and it made you want to scream.

Instead, you shoved him.

It wasn’t hard, just enough to get him away from you, enough to create space so you could think. But Vinny barely stumbled, just laughed under his breath as if you were proving something for him.

“What’s wrong?” He taunted, his voice dripping with amusement. “Mad that I see right through you?... I know you better than anyone, y/n.”

Your blood boiled.

“You don’t.”

He hummed, stepping forward again, instantly erasing any distance you’d tried to put between you.

“Don’t I?”

You glared up at him, swallowing hard. His face was way too close, his scent way too familiar, his presence way too intoxicating.

“You’re a fucking child.” You spat.

Vinny just smirked, his voice dropping lower. 

“And yet, you’re standing here with me instead of him. He never even got to fuck you, did he? We did it the fourth day of knowing each other, what does that say about you, about us...”

Your hands twitched at your sides. Your nails dug into your palms. Your heart pounded against your ribs.

Your hands moved before your brain could catch up, shoving at his chest again, harder this time.

But Vinny didn’t stumble. He barely even budged. Instead, his hands shot out, grabbing your wrists, holding them firm. His grip wasn’t rough, wasn’t cruel, it was steady and controlled. A silent challenge.

You should’ve pulled away. You should’ve kept fighting. But the way he was looking at you? Amused, infuriating, dark eyes drifting between yours and your lips like he already knew how this was going to end? It made your whole body burn. You had never seen him get like this before.

“You don’t want him,” Vinny murmured, voice low and certain. “You never did.” 

“Fuck. You.”

He grinned, leaning in, the heat of his breath ghosting over your lips.

“You’d rather fight with me than fuck him,” he whispered. “That’s how I know.”

You hated that he was right, and he knew it. And you hated how badly you wanted to prove him wrong.

Your pulse pounded in your ears, the heat of Vinny’s breath on your lips making your entire body tense. You hated him. You hated him. The smug way he stood there, the way he thought he knew you better than you knew yourself. The way he was so fucking sure of himself, so fucking cocky.

You wrenched your wrists from his grip and shoved him again. This time, he took a step back, but only because he let himself. His smirk deepened, and fuck, that just made you angrier.

“You don’t know shit.” You seethed.

Vinny tilted his head, mock-considering. 

“Don’t I?”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to punch him. You wanted to-

“Let’s break it down, shall we?” Vinny stepped forward again, slow and deliberate, backing you up until your spine hit the wall. His hands braced against the surface, caging you in. “Your friend sets you up to meet some guy, some nice guy, and what? You think that’s what you want?”

You swallowed hard, trying not to react to how close he was, to how warm he was, how you smell the alcohol on his breath- but you guessed he could with yours too. You both had a few drinks at the bar.

“I do want that.” You hissed.

Vinny’s smirk didn’t waver. If anything, it grew.

“No, you want to want that,” he corrected, voice just above a whisper, leaning in close, his lips a breath from your ear. “But that’s not what gets you all riled up, is it? I know you, baby, you don’t want simple or easy, it’s not… Thrilling enough, is it? 'Cause tell me... What happened last year? Why did you want me more than him?”

“Go to hell.”

His mouth brushed your jaw as he hummed, a low, knowing sound that made your stomach clench. 

“M’ already there.”

You should have shoved him away again. You should have walked away, locked yourself in your room, done anything but this.

But then his nose skimmed along your cheek, slow, teasing, deliberate, and your resolve snapped.

You turned your head sharply, lips crashing against his, and everything fucking erupted.

The moment your lips crashed against his, Vinny groaned into your mouth, his hands instantly finding your waist, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. It wasn’t a sweet kiss. It was messy, all clashing teeth and pure frustration.

You hated him. You hated him. And yet, here you were, clawing at him, pulling him impossibly closer, needing more, needing everything.

Vinny pulled back just long enough to smirk down at you, lips swollen, breath heavy. 

“Knew it.” He panted.

“Fuck you." You spat, your hands fisting in his hoodie, yanking him back in.

Vinny just chuckled against your lips, but there was something darker in it now, something that made your entire body light up like a live wire. 

“That’s the plan.” He murmured, his teeth grazing your lower lip before he sucked it between his own, biting down just hard enough to sting.

You gasped, your fingers sliding under his hoodie now, nails scraping against bare skin. He growled, and suddenly his hands were on your ass, lifting you up as your back hit the wall.

Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, and fuck, the way his body pressed into yours, his hardness pressing between your thighs, you felt dizzy- and it wasn't becuase of the cocktails.

“You’re such a fucking asshole.” You hissed against his lips, grinding down just to prove a point.

Vinny groaned, his grip tightening, his head dropping to your neck. 

“Yeah?” he rasped, teeth scraping against your pulse point. “But you love it."

You've never hated him more.

Vinny’s breath was ragged against your neck. His fingers dug into your thighs as he pressed you harder against the wall, his body pinning you in place. You could feel him smirking against your skin, and it infuriated you.

You shoved at his hoodie, desperate to get it off him, and Vinny let you, only to immediately retaliate by gripping the hem of your own shirt and yanking it over your head. He didn’t even look at you before his mouth was back on yours, like he couldn’t waste another second without kissing you.

Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling hard enough to make him groan into your mouth, his hips instinctively grinding up against you.

It was all so fast, so messy, so angry.

“Still thinking about him?” Vinny muttered, voice dripping with jealousy as he kissed his way down your jaw.

You laughed, short, breathless and mean.

His mouth crashed back to yours before you could fire off another insult, silencing whatever smart remark was about to leave your tongue. The kiss was rough, all teeth and hunger, like he was trying to devour the last word right off your lips.

You whimpered despite yourself, nails digging into his shoulders. You hated how good it felt, how natural, how right... like your body was made to fight with his and fuck with his and fall apart underneath him.

Vinny groaned, his hands skimming along the curve of your waist, thumbs grazing just under your bra.

“Say it,” he growled against your lips, his voice barely above a whisper. “Say you don’t want him.”

You bit his lip in response, making him hiss, your breath ragged.

“I don’t want him.”

“Say you want me.”

You hesitated, not because it wasn’t true, but because it was too true. Because saying it out loud made it real, and that was scary. But Vinny waited, his grip unrelenting, his breath hot and heavy on your cheek.

And you broke.

“I want you,” you said, voice trembling. "Always want you..."

Vinny made a low, guttural sound, half growl, half moan, before his mouth was on you once again, even more desperate and unforgiving. He kissed you like he’d earned it, just by being right.

You hated that he was right.

He pulled away just long enough to nod towards the stairs, and before you know it he's stumbling towards his room like a man possessed. Your legs tightened around him, impressed at his strength and how he had carried you up the stairs, and your hands tangled in his hair, dragging your mouth across his jaw, biting just to leave your mark.

He kicked the door open, didn't even bother with the light, and dropped you onto the bed like you weighed nothing. You barely had time to gasp before he was on you again, pinning you beneath him, undressing you with a maddening urgency.

“I fucking knew it,” he muttered against your collarbone, kissing and biting his way down your chest. “Knew you were full of shit the second you said you wanted a nice guy.”

You arched beneath him, hands clawing at his back, gasping when his fingers slipped beneath your waistband, tugging hard.

“And you’re what?” you panted. “The opposite of a nice guy?”

Vinny smirked against your skin, sliding your leggings and panties down your legs, his mouth following close behind.

“No,” he said, kissing the inside of your thigh, voice dripping with arrogance. “I’m the guy who actually knows what you want... what you need... how to fuck you.”

Your breath hitched, your head falling back against the sheets.

You wanted to deny it, you should’ve, but when his mouth finally met your cunt, you couldn’t do anything but cry out his name.

“You still wanna tell me I don’t know you?” he rasped, voice low and rough as his hands slid up your thighs, spreading them wider, holding them open for him as his tongue licked a stripe up from your core, teasing your clit with the tip. "That's what I thought."

You couldn’t speak, not with his mouth on you like that, not with the way he devoured you like he had something to prove. Your hips jerked up, chasing the feeling, gasping when he flattened his tongue against your clit and groaned like he needed the taste of you to survive.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling, grounding yourself as heat coiled low in your belly. He knew every inch of you too well, every twitch, every sound, every way your body begged for more, and he knew exactly what to do with you.

He didn’t stop until you were writhing, the orgasm tearing through you so fast and hard you cried out his name like it was the only thing you knew.

And then he was on you again, kissing you messy and desperate, the taste of you still on his lips, his cock thick and hard against your entrance. He didn’t tease, instead he pushed in all at once, a guttural moan ripping from his throat as he buried himself to the hilt.

You choked out a gasp, clinging to him as he began to move, slow at first, then rougher, frenzied, all restraint unravelling as the alcohol and adrenaline surged between you. You rolled your hips up to meet his, your eyes rolling back as the tip of his cock brushed just the right spot.

“You make me crazy,” you whispered, voice shaky. “...I hate how you mess with my head.”

Vinny’s hips stuttered for a beat, and when he looked down at you, his eyes were darker, sharper, like your words hit deeper than you intended.

“Yeah?” he rasped, thrusting harder, deeper, dragging a gasp from your lips. “I hate when you do it too.”

He kissed you, bruising and hungry, swallowing the rest of your thoughts. But they poured out anyway, your brain too foggy and your body too wrecked to filter the truth.

“I know we’re more than friends,” you panted, your voice cracking as he fucked you harder, angrier, like the words lit something in him. “I know you feel it. You can’t fuck someone like this and pretend it doesn’t mean anything-”

“I don’t,” he growled, cutting you off with another deep thrust. “Fuck, I don’t, baby… I feel it.”

Your eyes fluttered shut at the sound of it, the way his voice broke around the words like it cost him something to say them.

“I want you,” Vinny said, breathless, forehead pressed to yours again. “I want you all to myself.”

You whimpered, hips bucking up into his.

“Then have me.”

It came out ragged, almost a challenge, but Vinny didn’t need telling twice.

He let out a low, wrecked groan, burying himself deeper inside you with a sharp thrust that stole the breath from your lungs. His hands gripped your hips like he was anchoring himself, like if he let go, the moment would vanish.

“Fuck,” he muttered, head dropping to your shoulder. “You feel... shit so fucking good.”

You couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe. Your body was still shaking from your first orgasm, and now he was dragging you into a second, fucking you with everything he had, every thrust a wordless confession.

It wasn’t slow. It wasn’t gentle.

It was messy. It was rough and real.

He fucked you like he needed it, like he needed you, your skin, your breath, your mouth on his. Like if he couldn’t be inside you, he’d fall apart at the seams.

“You don’t get it,” he groaned into your ear. “I hate how much I want you.”

Your nails bit into his back, your legs wrapping tighter around him.

“Then stop pretending you don’t,” you gasped, your voice a wreck of need and desperation. “Just… fucking stop.”

And maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was that everything between you had been building for too long, but something in him cracked wide open.

“I think about you all the fucking time,” he breathed, hips losing rhythm. “You don’t leave my head.”

You whimpered, overwhelmed- by his words, by the way his cock kept hitting that spot that made you see stars, by the weight of everything you’d both buried for too long.

“I want you too, Vinny,” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “So bad, it fucking terrifies me.”

Vinny’s thrusts turned frantic, wild, like the words set something off inside him.

He kissed you then, deep and unrelenting, and when he pulled back, his voice was raw.

“You’re mine tonight.”

And that was it. You came again, harder than before, your whole body shaking beneath him as he followed you over the edge seconds later, spilling into you with a broken curse, your name on his tongue like a prayer.

You stayed tangled like that, both of you breathless and trembling, your foreheads pressed together, your fingers still curled tight in his hair.

And in the silence that followed, your heart pounded with the echo of everything that had been said, everything he wouldn’t remember tomorrow.

But you would.

Every word. Every breath. Every crack in his voice.

And it would haunt you forever.

...

The morning light streamed through the cracks in the blinds, waking you.

Your head throbbed with the dull ache of too much alcohol, but it wasn’t the hangover that was making you feel nauseous, it was the weight of everything that was said last night, pressing down on you like a secret you couldn’t shake.

Vinny was still asleep beside you, half on his stomach, arm slung over your waist. His hair was a mess, his lip still slightly swollen from where you’d bitten it. He looked peaceful. Undisturbed.

And completely unaware.

Your eyes lingered on his face, wondering if he'd remembered what he said... "I want you all to myself", "you don't leave my head", "you're mine tonight."

You swallowed hard and slowly peeled yourself away from him, careful not to wake him as you sat up, pulling the sheets around your bare body. The soreness between your thighs was a cruel reminder of how real it had all been. How raw. How honest.

And he didn’t remember.

You knew it the second he stirred and blinked up at you, hair in his face, brow furrowed like he was still piecing the night together.

“Mornin’,” he rasped, voice thick with sleep. “What time is it?”

“Almost noon,” you said, your voice steady even as your chest caved in a little. “You were out cold.”

He groaned, stretching with a wince.

“Jesus… I haven’t been that drunk in a while.”

You forced a laugh, light and nonchalant, like your heart wasn’t twisting in your chest.

“Yeah, you passed out after we… you know.”

Vinny smirked, rubbing a hand down his face.

“Bet I was great though.”

He didn’t remember.

Not the way he’d begged to have you. Not the way his voice cracked when he said he hated how much he wanted you. Not the way he’d confessed that you were in his head all the time.

You stared down at the sheets, fingers knotting them up between your hands, and managed a small smile.

“You were.”

He yawned, sat up, and ran a hand through his hair.

“Cool. I’ll make coffee. Want anything?”

You shook your head.

“I’m good.”

Vinny kissed the side of your head as he got up, like it meant nothing. Like you meant nothing. And maybe last night hadn’t changed a thing for him.

But for you, it changed everything.

------------------------------------

this ended up being so much longer than i intended lmao

@collapsedglasshouses @miss570 @dominuslunae @sunshine-lvrr @death-ofpeace-ofmind @blade-dressed-in-red @amelia-acero @kait16xo @oobleoob @pipidoll @justdamnpeachy @bluehairpunklol @renegadebirch @devilsfuckingdance @darkwhisperswolf

[woodlaflababab]

Thinking about how Zuko seems to understand Aang in some ways better than the rest of the gaang in a very short time. Recently rewatched the finale (finally finished getting my grandmother to watch the whole show, she loved it), and when Aang was having his argument with the gaang and then left, Zuko stopped Katara from going after him and said "He needs time to sort it out by himself."

Something I've long since noticed is that one of Aang's and Katara's conflicts is that they approach problems very differently, which leads to Katara trying to comfort Aang in a way that doesn't help or Aang trying to advise Katara in a way that doesn't help. Now, before I go on, I want to clarify, does this make kataang a bad ship? Not in the slightest. Couples having a disconnect on forms of comfort is very common and the healthiest of relationships are ones in which the two learn to meet eachother in the middle and be who the other needs to be. Their conflict in this is realistic and usually shown to resolve itself as they learn to meet the other where they need them. I am in absolutely no way disparaging Katara or trying to say kataang is bad or worse than zukaang.

I'm saying that because I am going to delve deeper into this dissconnect between Aang and Katara in comparison to Zuko. Again, this is in no way me trying to say Katara is bad for Aang, all couples have their problems and zukaang absolutely has issues that kataang would never have. Please for the love of god do not take this the wrong way.

Now, back to the point, we do see a pattern throughout the show of Katara trying to reach Aang through words. She's a naturally caring person and just wants people to feel better, unfortunately, she's also 14, and thus not exactly a trained therapist, and Aang isn't receptive to that particular brand of comfort. In things like General Fong's pressure on the Avatar state, or Aang's stress after waking up from the coma, or Aang's shut down after Appa, she tries to reach him and convince him to feel better, which doesn't really work on Aang. (Usually. There are some times where it does work, like during The Storm).

She has a tendancy of trying to tell Aang she understands what he's feeling when she doesn't which just pushes Aang away. (A mistake Aang also makes with her, these are Children™ trying their best). Their disconnect comes from the fact that Aang approaches problems with a desire for a solution while Katara approaches problems with a desire to fix the emotion. Both valid, but not matching.

My zukaang brain rot ass has long since had the hc that Zuko would be a bit better on this just because of the way he approaches things. Zuko also approaches problems with a desire for a solution. We see that very clearly in his buddy-cop episodes with the gaang. He connects with each of them by trying to help them solve a problem.

I was not expecting my hc to be verbally confirmed by him though, didn't remember that part, but yeah, Zuko, within only a few weeks of knowing Aang, understands that Aang needs time to sort his emotions out on his own, something Katara still struggles to understand even after seeing it happen multiple times. (Again, she just wants to help, and it can be really hard to watch a loved one struggle, of course she wants to be able to say something that will fix it.)

Throughout the finale we see Zuko meet Aang where he's at.

The first example:

I know you're scared, and I know you're not ready to save the world. But if you don't defeat the Firelord before the comet comes, there won't be a world to save anymore.

He acknowledges how Aang is feeling and he doesn't tell him he should feel differently, he just points out very bluntly that there is a problem. Also, just the fact that he acknowledges that Aang could be scared. It's not really something that acknowledged much. Even during Nightmares and Daydreams when Aang is literally falling apart due to nightmares and fear of what's coming, the others are more concerned with just getting him to stop. Zuko tells him that it's reasonable for him to not feel ready where everyone else constantly insists he is ready for things (like the invasion).

(Of course, again, the others are also encouraging in their own right. When Aang is starting to spiral they assure him that he's not alone and that they can fight the Firelord together)

Then, when they're all having the arguement, Zuko, clearly being on the side of "hey kill the Firelord" still doesn't ever tell Aang what he should feel.

Aang: "But he's still a human being."

Zuko: "You're doing to defend him?"

"No. I agree with you. Firelord Ozai is a horrible person, and the world would probably be better off without him, but there's got to be another way."

"Like what?"

*Gluebending Idea Tangent*

"Yeah, and then you can show him his baby pictures and all those happy memories will make him good again."

"Do you really think that would work?"

"No!"

Zuko asks questions, lets Aang lead the conversation, and when he's arguing against him, does not directly tell him he's wrong, instead tries to get Aang to see the faults in his own thinking. Zuko's approach to arguing with Aang is to get Aang to figure things out on his own, not tell him he's wrong. Even in the beginning when Zuko attacks Aang, he is trying to get Aang to understand that he's not ready and needs more training by showing him, not telling him. Zuko understands that Aang needs to be able to reach his own conclusion, not be told what his conclusion should be.

Meanwhile, the rest of the conversation goes sharply downhill as Sokka and Katara directly just tell Aang that what he says he's feeling isn't correct.

Aang: "I can't just go around wiping out people I don't like!"

Sokka: "Sure you can, you're the avatar. If it's in the name of keeping balance, I'm pretty sure the universe will forgive you."

Aang: "This isn't a joke Sokka! None of you understand the position I'm in!"

Katara: "Aang, we do understand, it's just-"

Aang: "Just what Katara, what?"

Katara: "We're trying to help!"

Which is another one of those situations I mentioned where Katara tells Aang she understands what he's feeling when she does not. She's trying to help, but that is not helpful.

Then, of course, the line I mentioned earlier.

Katara: "Aang, don't walk away from this!"

Zuko: "Let him go. He needs time to sort it out by himself."

Again, Zuko has only been there a few weeks, the water tribe siblings have known Aang for the better part of a year. Yet, Zuko tells Katara with certainty that Aang needs time and space, which he does.

I think there's also something to be said for the fact that Zuko, before anyone else, even Aang, noticed the conflict between Aang's values and his mission. When Aang says violence is never the answer in The Southern Raiders, Zuko asks (notably asks) what he's going to do when he faces Ozai.

Also:

Sokka, in response to Aang disappearing: "It's pretty obvious. Aang mysteriously dissapears before an important battle? He's definitely on a spirit world journey!"

Zuko: "But if he was, wouldn't his body still be here?"

Sokka: "Oh yeah, I forgot about that."

Like, Sokka, honey, baby, you've known this kid for nine months now, come on.

Anyway, there's a lot of subtle zukaang moments in the finale that I may write a post about later. I just really like Zuko's quick and inherent understanding of who Aang is as a person.

[forbiddentaako]

more monochrome practice I suppose

[birthclod]

thinking about ch0mpkin's evil evbo post (evilbo, if you will) and going "How can I align this with My Interests (the axes)" and the answer is Very easily actually

[dreadeves]

was thinking about lucifer!johnny or connected in some way to a demon!johnny the other day and was like, the theory is growing on me because it’s an interesting way of connecting lucifer personally to the drama alongside kit’s blatant parental issues (as well as making them much, much worse), and it’d be a fun tessa’s fucked up family & jace and clary and valentine parallels connection… and then i got whammied by the realization that if johnny is lucifer then kit would count as a warlock in the same way tessa would.

[leori-the-unlearned]

the way digimon does conflict/drama between two characters who should be or are close: chef’s kiss <3

the way sonic idw handles creating conflict/drama between two characters who should be or are close: *wilting flower*