#monday com presentation

[bl-inkstone]

im fighting my demons rn (trying to focus on my assignments instead of writing the sagau post)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 20

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: weekends aren't for rest, they're for being sick and anxious so Monday will be a treat.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

As you enter, you try your best not to make too much noise. You set the bags down lightly and ease the inner door shut. You can hear your dad and the soft sound of puzzle pieces meeting the table.

“Ya know, thirty years almost, but I can see her just like yesterday,” he says.

Your heart clutches. You never heard him talk about your mom. When you were a kid and didn’t know better, he just ignored all your questions about her. When you got older, you stopped asking. You figured it’s easier for both of you to pretend she never was.

“I’m sorry, hon,” Leslie comforts, “you know, in my line of work, I’ve seen it over and over. It’s a wound you can’t heal.”

“Oh yeah,” he grits, “yeah, I’d say…”

You swallow and lean back on your foot, crinkling the bags behind you. You cringe as you hear sudden movement. You turn and work to slip off the white loafers. You pretend like you weren’t listening as Leslie’s shadow looms from the archway.

“You’re home,” she proclaims, “we didn’t think you’d be so early.”

“Me either,” you say as you face her. 

Her lashes flick and her mouth opens, “oh my, you look so good! Weren’t you working today?”

“Uh, did some work,” you lie, “I got a few hours off so I… did some running around.”

“Oh, gosh, come on, you have to show your dad,” she takes you by the wrist and tugs you around, “Charles, look at your girl.”

She presents you with her hands on your shoulders. You can’t even look at your dad as the couch creaks and he grunts at your appearance. He snorts and pushes another piece into the puzzle.

“What am I looking at?” He sneers.

“Charles, don’t be like that. Look at her hair, and this dress,” she touches your hips, “must be a nice job, huh?”

“It’s alright,” you shimmy out of her grasp, “I just… needed something more presentable–”

“Something shorter,” your father scoffs, “so when she’s bending to tidy the floors you can see right up.”

“Charles, that’s gross,” Leslie reprimands.

“Truth can be like that,” he snickers, “think some man’s buying her fancy clothes so she can sweep? We both know how she pays for you.”

“No… it’s not…” you shrug and give up, “I’m gonna put my stuff away and start dinner. If you want, you can head off early too.”

“Oh, I don’t mind sticking around,” Leslie says as she once more sits beside your dad, “let me know if you need any help with dinner. Don’t wanna get anything on that nice little dress.”

You nod and hesitate. You can’t tell what she means by that. For as much as she can call out your father, she often speaks with an edge of her own. Just like the cigarettes, she must assume his insults are your fault.

You leave the room and grab the bags. You carry them up the stairs to your room. You shut the door and sit on the end of the bed. You bend and cradle your head, trying to set it straight after the dizzying day.

👠

The bus provides a momentary break from your hostile world. There is no safe place for you. Home is barely that and work is… confusing. Your only escape is to focus on your tasks and get through them. Get through Mr. Laufeyson’s list then come home and the chores left untouched. 

Your look at the time on your phone and black the screen. You get a glimpse of your reflection off the glass as you do. You didn't do too bad with the makeup. It looks okay. You tried not to use too much as you recalled Eliana's instructions.

You shake off your doubts and airy feeling around your legs. You're not use to the skirt or the pretty fabrics. You feel overdressed and out-of-place, but the latter is so new to you.

Through the gate and along the edge of the drive, you hear your name flutter in the air. You stop short as you see Frigga strolling along the hedges, caressing the petals of a rose. She draws away and strides towards you, an ivory skirt paired with a golden brown blouse and nude heels.

“You do start early, don’t you?” She approaches and takes your hand, “come, let’s have tea.”

“Oh, uh, I…” you let her tug you along the walkway towards the front door, “the carpenter is coming today–”

“Ah yes, Loki mentioned you were working on restoring the gazebo. That’s lovely. We used to have tea there, me and… his wife. She was a laugh.”

“Mm,” you hum. Whoever this woman was, she must’ve been very special. You imagine a beautiful woman with silky hair and long legs like Frigga. She must’ve fit right in.

“I suppose if it was meant to be, it would be. I only hope my son can find happiness again,” she squeezes your hand before she lets you go. 

She opens the door and waves you in ahead of her. You slip out of your flats much easier than your usual lace-up sneakers. She steps out of her heels and sighs.

“That’s his problem, you know? He’s lonely but too proud to admit it,” she sidles around you and leads you down to the kitchen. You follow and watch as she goes to the counter and pours from the waiting teapot. “Though I haven’t seen him today. I suppose he’s sleeping in, it is the weekend.”

You tilt your head but don’t comment. For as long as you’ve worked for him, not very long at all, he’s never slept past your arrival. Well, not so far as you know.

“I do love this skirt,” she comes back around the counter and touches the tweed, “wonderful pairing,” she touches the blouse with the petal shaped cutouts around the high-collar, “you’re learning.”

“Um, yeah, all the clothes are so pretty,” you say.

“Please, have your tea. I’m sure you have time before the carpenter,” she urges.

“Right, er, I’ll just take my bag upstairs first,” you say, “out of the way.”

“Sure,” she accepts with a kind smile, “how about I take this out to the patio, we can enjoy the sun?”

“Alright,” you agree and hike up your bag, “thank you.”

You quickly flit off and head upstairs. You weren’t expecting her to be there. You just hadn’t thought of it. You only dreaded facing your unbendable boss and his persistent stare.

You go into the library and tuck your bag under the writing desk. You double check the schedule in your phone; Ronan, 10. You have an hour before he arrives.

Your mind is already on the gazebo as you scurry back into the hall. As you shut the door gently, you hear a groan. You peer down towards the unusual noise and blink at the slightly ajar door. The main bedroom. Mr. Laufeyson’s. It rises again before a drawn out exhale, his timbre rumbling low.

You quickly set back to your path and flee downstairs. Maybe he’s talking in his sleep, or more likely, stretching out a few kinks. Your curiosity quickly dissipates as you pass through the dining room and out into the patio.

Frigga sits with large pointed sunglasses over her eyes. She tilts her face up to the sunlight as you sit before the other cup of tea. You pull it close and look out at the yard. A streak of green catches your gaze.

You watch the hummingbird hover over fuchsia petals. You stare dreamily, lulled by the peace of the moment as Frigga merely sips and basks. This isn’t so bad. The bird zips between flowers before disappearing behind a tree. In his stead, the skittish chipmunk scrambles along the railing of the patio. You smile at his fluffy tail.

“I’ll be off tomorrow,” Frigga states, “my husband will be expecting me. Oh, but I’ll miss you, darling.”

“Is it very far?” You wonder.

“Four or five hours,” she answers, “not very far but enough. It’s so lovely up where we are. I wish you could see. Perhaps one day. When things are better.”

Before you can answer, there’s a subtle click behind you.

“Morning,” Mr. Laufeyson’s voice is unleashed onto the scene as the patio door swings inward, “mother,” he pauses before he enunciates your name, “beautiful day out.”

Your shoulders stiffen and nearly touch your ears as you sit straight. He pulls out the chair at your other elbow and sets down another teacup with a clink. He sits and smooths back his dark hair, tucking the spiralled ends behind his ears.

“Late morning,” his mother remarks, “any tea left?”

“Some, shall I–”

He puts his hands flat, moving to stand but she shoos him as she’s quicker to rise, “I’ll get it myself. And you darling,” she dips her chin in your direction, “more?”

“Oh, no thanks, I’m still… working on mine. Thank you, Frigga,” you say, mindful of each syllable.

She leaves and the door clicks shut behind her. You stare at the brim of your cup, turning it slowly between your hands as Laufeyson raises his own to his lips. He drinks carefully before putting it down again.

He’s quiet. He shifts and plants an elbow on the table. He turns his attention to the yard and watches. You dare to look up as well, the chipmunk poking his head out from the bush where he hides. He ran away at Mr. Laufeyson’s arrival.

“Cute little fellow,” he remarks as he faces you again. You quickly lower your eyes.

“Uh, yeah…”

“Mmm,” he drones and taps his fingers on the porcelain teacup, “you… that’s a nice shirt.”

“Thanks,” you lift your cup and drain most of it, gulping painfully as you put it back down, “I should go start. Ronan will be here shortly–”

“The carpenter?”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson, I have him penned in–” You explain.

“And? He is a carpenter, he knows what he’s doing. I doubt he needs you watching over his shoulder.”

“I know, uh, but I should be there to let him in,” you slide your cup off the table.

“You’re not even done your tea.”

“I’ll finish on my way in–”

“You’re avoiding me,” he accused and you wince.

“What?”

“You’re running away? Why?” He challenges.

“I’m not, I– I have work to do.”

“Work I give you. I’m your boss, you may sit and finish. I’ll permit it.”

You falter and set the cup on the table. You lower yourself back to the seat and fold your hands. You look at your lap and push your shoulders back. He is back to his haughty demands, you find that part of him easier to handle.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Laufeyson, I wasn't running away.”

He scoffs thinly and his nostrils flare as he stares off at the hedges that edge the patio, “I wonder why you can be so quick to flee me when you sat and let my brother feel you up.”

“Huh?” You blanch, stuck by the accusation. “Mr. Laufeyson, I–”

“I know him well and I’m not as blind as my mother. I saw it. You didn’t say a word. You just let him do it,” he clucks, “why?”

Your eyes round and you bat your lashes. You nearly choke, the acidic flavour of the tea drying on your tongue. Was it that bad? You tried not to think about it, to let it affect you, even as the memories flashed in your head, you just tried not to feel anything about it.

“I didn’t… well… he’s your brother, Mr. Laufeyson, I didn’t want to assume… to offend–” you stammer.

“So you let him do what he wants?” He snarlss as he turns his sights on you, a brow arch tritely. “You do not work for him, you work for me.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to do,” you sputter, confused by his anger. “I tried to…”

Your voice trails off. No, you didn’t try. You were too afraid too. He’s right, you let Thor keep touching you and you didn’t say anything, you didn’t move, you just froze up.

“It makes me wonder,” he cups his chin, leaning on his elbow, “how far would you let him get, hm?”

“Mr. Laufeyson,” you whimper, “I’m sorry–”

“Did you like how he touched you?”

“N-no, Mr. Laufeyson, no, of course not,” you plead.

“You do not want him to touch you?” He prompts.

“No, I… didn’t know how to say—”

“Shhh,” he hushes you, lifting his chin from his hand and pressing his finger to his lips. He pulls his hand away to point at you, “I’ve a better question…” He reaches towards you and you flinch. You quiver as he traces the cutout along the top of your blouse, “how far would you let me go?”

You squirm as he hooks his finger inside the teardrop window in the fabric. His fingertip brushes you as he gives a slight tug, looming closer as he draws you towards him. He smirks as you stare dumbfounded. What is he doing?

“My brother will not touch you again,” his voice is low and rocky, “I will make sure of it.” He tickles you slightly and rescinds his hand, “and you will make sure to remember who you belong to.”

He sits back and hooks his fingers in the handle of the porcelain mug. As if on cue, the french doors open behind you and Frigga trills as she emerges, “oh, just enough tea,” she announces, “I added a dash of honey this time.”

She places the cup by her empty chair but does not sit. She twirls and paces around the patio, going to the flower boxes along the rail. She leans in to examine them.

“Perhaps the carpenter could have a look here, it’s crooked,” she declares. “And I dare say the guest room has a loose floorboard right near the bed.”

“Mm, perhaps, mother,” Laufeyson drawls as he once more raises his cup, his eyes stuck on you, “my house manager will be sure to ask, won’t she?”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson,” you wisp out through your constricted throat, barely registering his command. 

You can only hear his previous words echoing, over and over; remember who you belong to. Belong to… No, you only work for him.

[kastlenetwork]

hello, kastle fam! i hope that you're doing well 😊 after eight thousand years of me being lazy, i present to you the next #kastleweek! (lol).

this next event will run from monday, september 2nd through friday, september 6th!

every medium of work is welcome. you can write fic. you can make edits, gifs, or art. if you'd like to make playlists of curating the vibes of karen and frank in each prompt, we'll be thrilled to listen! there's absolutely no pressure to create something for every day of the week -- there's a months' time to work, so feel free to pick and choose whatever it is you want to participate in 💕💕

monday, sept. 2 | we meet again | the day of yearning frank and karen reunions. whether that be months, years, or anything below or in-between. tuesday, sept. 3 | rom com aus | the day of fluff some actual summer fun for these two dramatic, angsty losers. (coffee shop aus, college aus, beach aus, ect.) picture bright and colorful cartoon book covers. wednesday, sept. 4 | through new eyes | the day of observations outsider, 3rd party, perspectives of frank and karen's relationship. no matter where it stands. thursday, sept. 5 | forced proximity | the day of honesty frank and karen being brought together in various situations where they can't just walk away, and are forced to confront their feelings. friday, sept. 6 | plot? what plot? | the day of desire frank and karen smut day. we know this fandom. let's be for real lol. (thank you, @goddamnitkastle, bless)

okie dokie, i hope at least one of these inspires something in you! (when we get closer to the date, i'll create a collection on ao3, for anyone who choses to write fic.)

i look forward to seeing what everyone creates!

💕, chey/ @kastlenetwork

[peterparkouryo]

rebound ii | ✧.*

✧.*

prompt; After Peter ends your relationship after admitting to being in love with someone else, you're a mess and very very miserable.

warnings: semi heavy angst, fluff if you squint

word count: 4.7k

part one part three

It's been four days since your birthday, and your break up with Peter. 

You were sad, no you were miserable since that day and you cried every chance you got. It's not because it was on your birthday, if it was any other day you'd probably be just as worst.

Today was Monday, which meant today was also another dreadful, long and dragging, boring day of school. You'd rather be in your bed, eating ice cream as you cried watching a rom-com that was just as bad as your life.

When you got to school, you went straight to your locker, put your things inside and got all needed accessories for your upcoming class. The first class you needed to be at was social studies, which thankfully didn't have him in it, just your friend Betty and his friend Ned.

"Hey, Happy belated birthday!" Betty quickly exclaims the moment you walk into the class room, a couple students glancing at you or her in curiosity.

You send a grateful and albeit, weak smile as you slowly but surely make your way to your assigned seat which just so happens to be right next to her.

"Thanks." You softly mumble just as you sit next to her, the blonde haired girl excitedly turning towards you with too much anticipation.

"So, how was your birthday?" She asked.

"Also, sorry I couldn't be there." Betty quickly added before you could answer.

You wanted to tell her that it was fine, that you enjoyed your birthday with just you and your mom but the last final hour of your birthday was truly the worst part of that whole 24 hour day.

"It's fine, umm, I guess it was okay." You tell her, leaving out the very heartbreaking details you so badly wanted to tell her.

"Did Peter shower you in presents? Did he take you on a date!?" Ohh, did he give you that necklace that you've been ogling for the past few months?" Betty asked, question after question.

Now, you had no other choice but to tell her, and quite frankly, you did not want that to be the agenda for the day, but curse Betty and her curious, bubbly personality.

"Actually, we broke up." You tell it how it is, not sparing to glance at her bewildered expression.

"Broke up?" She repeated in disbelief. 

You hum in response, digging into your backpack next to you and pulling out your notebook to jot down the notes on the board, completely trying to block out Betty and her confusion.

"When?" Betty quizzed, her eyes switching back and fourth from your notebook and your side profile.

"He broke up with me, on my birthday." You tell her, looking back down to your notebook, now scribbling nonsense.

Before she could even respond, you continue.

"Apparently, he was in love with Michelle, you know the girl from our math class? The whole entire time. Well, I don't exactly know when he fell in love with her, but it certainly was during our relationship." You rambled, holding back the frustration and tears that threatened to break through.

days you've been going through for the past few days. You still think it's your fault for why Peter broke up with you, he probably found you boring and you didn't give him the attention he needed, which is why you strongly believe he fell for someone much better than you.

You didn't hate Michelle, you actually genuinely liked the brown curly haired girl, she was quiet and observant and super smart, so you can see why Peter liked her a lot. She could also be dark at times from what you remember, and sure it confused you of how and why Peter liked that but maybe you didn't know your ex as well as you thought.

"Y/N, I am so sorry." Betty said, putting a reassuring hand on your shoulder, which you didn't shrug off because you honestly needed some sort of comfort from the past few days.

"It's nothing, I'll be fine." You lied, turning your attention away from her to look at the board once again as the teacher finally decided to teach the class.

--

It was finally lunch time, and normally you'd sit with Peter and Ned, but that was a no go. Well, it would've been a no go if the other tables weren't full and if Ned hadn't invited you to sit next to him. And who were you to decline an invitation from the nicest boy ever?

So, you made your way to the table that was made for awkward moments, only seeing Ned sit there happily eating his lunch.

"Oh, hi Y/N." Ned greeted you just as you sat directly across from him with your lunch tray in hand.

"Hey." You greeted back, showing a smile.

You knew you were going to regret sitting here, given the fact that Peter is bound to sit here as well and there's no doubt that Michelle would be sitting here also, but you tried to ignore that initiated gut feeling and focus on anything and everything else.

Maybe if Peter saw that you were trying to move on, he'd believe that you did, though all of that is complete and utter bullshit.

"So, you know how in our science class we have that upcoming project about disparities?" You hear Ned's voice ask, glancing at him just in time as he shoves a salty fry into his mouth.

You nod, playing with your food instead, the anxiety slowly creeping into your body.

"Well, I was thinking since you and uhh...you know what never mind. Do you want to be my partner?" Ned questioned quickly, eyes filled with hope.

"Are you only asking me because I'm the smartest in that class?" You tease, narrowing your eyes at him in amusement.

Ned lets out a whole-heartedly chuckle, but before he could joke back a voice you very much expected interrupts you both.

"Sorry, the lunch line was really long..." Peter says defeatedly, tossing his friend a bag of chips  as he sat down next to him.

Okay, so maybe you should've declined Ned's offer, but he was sort of your friend and you didn't have lunch with Betty anymore, plus sitting alone would probably be just as miserable as sitting here with your ex, who was in love with someone else.

You're sure you hear Ned respond to Peter's apology, but you're not quite too sure since your brain and ears are filled with anxiety, your head feeling fuzzy at Peter's presence. You could sometimes occasionally feel Peter's glances, probably curious as to why you're sitting here, but you wanted to make a point that you're over him and you didn't sit here because you cared about him still (which was a lie), but because Ned invited you and he was your sort of friend.

"Michelle's in the library today, since she's not really a people's person." Peter informed Ned after his question as of where the brown curly haired girl was.

You were thankful for that, you didn't think you could handle much more of misery.

You're not one hundred precent sure if they're dating now, but if they are you failed to notice, and maybe Peter is just deciding to take things slow since the boy did just get out of a relationship, with you.

The boys continue to make small talk, you ate in silence, or played with your food in silence until the lunch period was over.

And as soon as the bell rung, you hurriedly got up from the table, threw away your lunch and made a bee-line for the cafeteria doors, shoving and squeezing your way through the herd of students.

You sighed in relief as you made it into the hallway, holding a hand to your chest, almost, just almost crying right then and there but you remembered that you were in public, and at school too.

Just as the students that once littered the busy hallway made their ways to the next class that they had, you heard your name being called in the now shallow hallway.

You turn around hesitantly since you already know that voice all too well.

It wasn't Peter, but Michelle, coming from the library doors.

You always knew somehow god wasn't on your side.

"Hey, uh..." The girl started as soon as she approached you, a clad of books stuffed in her right arm.

"Hey.." You mumbled awkwardly, sparing glances at a few students who walked by to get to their next class.

Michelle was as awkward as you were, it was very obvious in the way that the tension around you surfaced rather quickly. You both knew why, it was an unsaid understanding.

"I think I owe you an apology." Michelle states, her eyes never leaving your face as you slowly trailed yours to look into hers.

"For what?" You dumbly ask.

You knew why, you just needed to hear her say it.

"I never meant for Peter to fall in love with me, and to hurt you. I honestly didn't think you two were a thing until a week ago." She admitted, and you could sense how nervous her voice was with that confession.

 You knew you had a reason not to hate her, she was just as confused as you.

"It's fine, really." You lie, showing a rather obvious fake smile.

"No, no, it's not. I know he broke up with you on your birthday which is a really shitty thing to do, and I also know that it's not fine. If I could take back his feelings for me and give them to you, I would." Michelle concluded, her aura anything but foulness.

It was really reassuring knowing that the girl felt guilty for your now ex's feelings for her, her showing you the unexpected sympathy, something you thought would be the last thing you would receive from her.

But it was always really confusing how if she has feelings for Peter as well, why feel sorry for you? You did want him to be happy, and if it wasn't with you, so be it. You didn't want to be the reason Peter's unhappiness wasn't fulfilled.

"Michelle, listen." You started, standing up straight to look at her.

"I may be going through a lot with this, but I don't want to be the reason Peter is unhappy. That's the last thing I ever want for him. So, if he wants to be with you..." You trailed off with a shrug, hoping she understood where you were going with this.

Instead of answering the girl just stares at you, her eyes confused, as well as her facial expression, the features slowly falling into a more understanding expression, something you wanted her to see.

"Are you sure? I didn't want to get in the way of any unsaid closure..." She says, pressing her lips into a straight line.

Closure. The word only used to resolve problems. You didn't think breaking up with Peter needed closure.

"Oh, right...closure. I guess we do need to talk." You sigh.

"I would before he decides anything else. I mean that is if you're ready, it's only been four days." Michelle tells you, pushing up her books more into her arm as they were slipping.

You knew she was right, you did say yourself you wanted Peter to be happy, even if it was in a short amount of time.

"I'll just text him and ask him to meet me in the library after school." You tell her, hearing the bell ring, signalling the final warning to get to class.

"Good idea, tell me what he says." Michelle says with a nod before walking past you, mumbling a soft 'bye', and you too decide to make your way to your next period.

--

You unfortunately kept true to your word to Michelle, and as soon as your last period was over you texted the last person you wanted to see, asking him if you two could talk and to meet in the library after school.

It only took him maybe five or six minutes to respond, saying a quick 'okay'.

So here you were, really nervous, scared, maybe even sad for obvious reasons, waiting at a table that was way in the back of the library, not wanting to be disturbed by any teachers or students that lingered around in the book filled room.

You silently played with your fingers, your entire body on fire with anxiety. You sort of wished he would hurry up so it can get over and done with.

To be quite honest, it reminds you of the time he admitted to having a crush on you. You both were nervous for two totally different reasons. You, being nervous because you thought he was going to tell you he didn't want to be your friend anymore (and rightfully so because of how he was acting during that time), and him, because he of course liked you.

Any oncoming thoughts were caught short as your gaze was met with a familiar head set of curls, and compelling brown eyes coming your way, in a dazed state.

"Sorry, I uh...was busy." Peter mumbled, setting his backpack (the third one you saw that week), onto the library floor next to the seat he pulled out to sit down at.

"It's fine." You shrugged off, your hands now in your lap, keeping your distance, something you hope he didn't notice.

"So, what is it you wanted to talk about?" He asked, looking at you expectingly.

It took a lot of will power to keep your composure.

"Well, I talked to Michelle.." You trailed off, watching his every movement, seeing his pupils dilate just tiny bit.

"Oh?" Peter questioned, slightly biting his lip nervously.

"Yeah, she said we needed some sort of closure before you decide to get into a relationship to her." You told him, looking down at your fiddling hands in your lap.

Peter took notice of how truly nervous you were, and he couldn't help but feel bad, knowing he was the main reason for this.

He also noticed the lack of sleep, due to the much obvious under bags in your eyes, something he had a feeling also had to do with him.

"Right, closure." Peter nodded, clearing his throat.

There were a load of questions you had for him, many that probably would help you better understand how, when and why he fell out of love with you the moment he spent more time with Michelle.

His distance from you during the upcoming end of your relationship put you in a spiral of thoughts, the kind of thoughts that kept you up at night. It also didn't help that you were already an over thinker and the thought of messing up your relationship with Peter always scared you.

Most people would say that dreams come true not nightmares. It wounded you more than anything that you biggest fear did in fact come true.

You didn't really care if he was going to end up dating Michelle, it was bound to happen anyway. You just wanted to know the when and why. You wanted to know what you lacked during that time so in future relationships, you'd be able to avoid it.

"Before we talk, I, um, bought you this." You hear Peter say, the boy reaching inside of his backpack, digging in it before retreating it with an item, holding it toward you.

You reluctantly look up from where your eyes were practically trained on your lap, your hands still shyly there.

It was a small box decorated in your favourite colour, purple.

"What's this?" You curiously asked, taking it from his expecting hand.

"Just a late birthday gift." Peter shrugged, obviously not aware of just how inappropriate and inconvenient his timing was.

"Oh." Was all you said before stuffing it in your pocket.

You'd open it later.

As the day went on, the awkward tension build up, rarely anyone now was in the library, a few ongoing studiers, parents with their kids, or just advocate readers. You wanted some sort of miracle to happen so you wouldn't have to go through this uncomfortable situation.

It was clear neither of you knew how to start this conversation. You had no idea what to say or how to approach the topic of the closure you needed.

You couldn't tell if Peter noticed how miserable your appearance was, both mentally and physically, but you knew he must have known somehow.

"I'm really sorry I broke up with you on your birthday, had I known...I'd probably would've waited." Peter finally speaks up, with a heavy lump down his throat.

Your hands bare on the table as you shuffle in your seat, preparing on a proper response.

The thought of Peter going to break up with your regardless if it was your birthday or not makes your heart feel heavy with a forlorn weight.

"It's, I, it's okay, I guess." You murmur, blinking rapidly for effect.

Another silence settled, and this time you did nothing (like you were before) to speak up and stop it. You thought the more quiet, the less talking and you wouldn't get hurt anymore if either one of you even tried to utter a word.

"I know I hurt you," The boy started, and you look up, waiting for him to continue. "But, I can't say that I, you know what, never mind." Peter waves off, struggling to find the write words.

"And you're barely saying anything makes this a lot harder than it should be Y/N." He says in defeat, reaching out to clasp his hands onto yours.

There was nothing on your end, nothing to be said, nothing you wanted to say. Though you needed closure, you really had no idea what to say. How do you tell someone that you clearly still had feelings for that you love him?

Peter of course, had no idea you even loved him, he of course knew you probably still harboured feelings for him, but he didn't know you had stronger deeper feelings for him. Had the boy not broken up with you on your birthday, you probably would slipped the L word, which probably wouldn't make anything better if you're being honest.

"I'm sorry, I just....don't know what to say." You admit, the warmth of his skin on top of yours sending a wave of shivers from your arms through your entire body.

"Start by telling me how you feel." Peter suggested, and that might not had been the brightest of ideas.

You felt like shit. There hadn't been a day that went by after your dreadful birthday where you didn't.

You squint your eyes at him, slowly removing your hands from his grasp.

"I feel like shit." You tell him, giving the boy a timid look, watching him nod slowly in understanding.

"Right, probably should've guessed that." Peter said shyly, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"Sorry." He adds on.

"You say that a lot, but do you actually mean it?" You ask him quietly, watching his pupils dilate at your request.

"'Course I do!" Peter almost exclaims, his eyes now wide.

"I-, listen I know I hurt you bad, but the last thing I want is for you to hate me." He stated, pouting slightly.

You didn't hate him, and you think that's even worse.

"I don't hate you, don't think I ever can." You say, pressing your lips together.

It'd probably be a good thing to tell him you loved him, but you were in public and it would hurt even worst if he neglected your love (which would most likely happen) in such a public area.

Maybe you should wait till later, or just honestly get it over and done with, the sooner the better, you thought.

"If I'm being honest Peter, I think-" You begin, your heart pounding wildly against your chest. Your head screaming at you not to do it, but when have you ever listened to your head instead of your heart?

"I think I love you." You whisper at your quietest volume, and hopefully god was on your side,. Hoping maybe Peter didn't hear it, but you lacked the knowledge of knowing Peter's secret abilities.

Either time froze or Peter was stuck in place for whatever reason (you were sure you knew) it was. Things seemed to have frozen around you, the people you were once aware of now gone, just you and your ex in this moment. And was it such a vulnerable one.

You watch as the boy's mouth fell open and closed, trying to conjure up something, anything to say at your sudden confession.

Your heart fell deeper into your stomach as the silence grew, you wished this time it wasn't so evident, the lack of ventilate from him bothering your head.

After a two minutes of silence Peter quickly gets up from his seat, grabbing his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder almost clumsily.

"I-, I havetogo, sorry." The boy swiftly says, stumbling over his words before nearly tripping over a few chairs.

You figured this wouldn't happen, which might have been ten times worst than him actually saying something in return.

--

You had wiped the falling tears from your face, the mirror in front of you mocking your actions, but no matter what, the wet substance from your eyes would still fall down a lot heavier.

You sniffled before exiting the bathroom, making a beeline to your bedroom, closing the door and cuddling up into the bed.

After your conversation (if you'd even call it that) with Peter at the library, the minute you got home, you were hit with a wave of saddness. You cried more than you did on your birthday, and now you wish you hadn't told your ex boyfriend you loved him, didn't matter anyway.

You were grateful your mom had a late shift tonight, you couldn't bare the thought of her seeing you at your worst, questioning why you were the way you were. You lacked to even tell the woman you and Peter were no longer dating. You figured you'd wait a few weeks then drop the bomb on her, hopefully she'd spare Peter, but given her personality, you truly doubt it.

The crying hadn't really stopped, so when your face hit your soft pillows and more tears that got more intense as the night went on, you weren't all that surprised.

What did surprised you was the obsessive knocking at your bedroom window.

You didn't bother to wipe your tears when you sat up from your bed, aiming your direction at the window, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion when you saw your neighbourhood superhero instead of some sort of bird.

"Spider-Man?" You questioned bewilderedly as you approach your bedroom window, opening it from its handle.

You knew of him from the news, and it was really shocking to you that him of all people were here at your window at something at night for whatever the reason was.

"What are you doing here?" You ask him again, watching the hero crouch on the railing of your fire escape.

"Believe it or not but I heard you..." He says steadily, and you rose an eyebrow at him.

"Not that I was you know listening or anything, but I was near by and my senses can pick up things from far away." Spider-Man quickly says, holding out a hand in defence.

"Oh." You say, tilting your head as you wiped your tears.

"Seemed like a damsel in distress sort of thing..." He trailed off, expectingly waiting for your response.

You had no reason to tell this stranger your secrets, you both knew that, but something inside of you wanted to. You hadn't even known the hero for five seconds and yet you were ready to tell him your deepest darkest confessions.

"It's nothing." You settled for, having some moral ground.

"Sad movie?" Spider-Man suggested.

"Yeah." You nod, sniffling a bit.

Maybe he thought you were in some sort of trouble, but the more you thought about it the less sense it made to to tell a stranger about your conversation with your ex at a public library. 

What advice could he possible give that would make you feel better? You don't know if he's ever even gone through something like that.

"Oh, well hope you feel better." Spider-Man offered. "Just doing my part of the 'friendly neighbourhood' motto." He adds, making you chuckle.

"Thanks." You smile.

You couldn't pin point it, but he seemed oddly familiar, maybe it was because he was so nice to you after your horrible day, week even, but you really appreciated his kind gesture.

"I-" He started, unravelling himself from his crouching position to stand on your fire escape.

"Y/N." Spider-Man says, and your eyes widen marginally.

Had you told him your name? You couldn't remember, but never the less even if you didn't, you wondered how he knew in the first place. Maybe you slipped it out from habit or he was some stalker type of hero.

The hero seemed to have noticed your confused state, the vigilante quickly ripping off his mask to try and calm your nerves, but you recognize his face all too well, instinctively going to shut the window, but unfortunately for your his senses way too quick for yours, his strength inhumane.

"Wait!" Peter cried out as you still tried to close the window but to no avail. 

Peter easily slides the window up, causing you to let go repulsively, backing up from it as he slowly climbed in.

Every bone in your body was telling you to run, but where would you go, who would you tell? Now you never would tell anyone about your ex being the Queens superhero, but you don't think you can bare having this secret known to you so suddenly.

Peter being Spider-Man is a surprise, of course, and him using his alter ego just to talk to you in some sense after quite literally running away from your confession was making your mind fuzzy to say the least.

You started to shake your head for no particular reason, watching the boy close your window before turning back to you, his hair wild most likely from the mask, and a evident pout on his face.

"You-, you love me?" Peter asked, his voice cracking.

You couldn't conjure up the right words, your mind blank with empty thoughts. It was still shocking to you that Peter of all people was the spiderling you only ever seen on the news.

You never paid much attention to Spider-Man, and if you did, you'd probably would have figured out that Peter was him if you connected the dots properly.

"Y/N, please answer me." He pleaded, breaking you from your train of thoughts. You were sure you looked like a deer caught in headlights at this point.

"I don't know..." You whispered, fiddling with with your fingers as sweat trickled down your forehead.

"But at the library you said-" Peter starts.

"I know what I said." You tell him, meeting his brown eyed gaze.

You blinked back tears, Peter approaching your figure, and you would had backed up to get away from him but you were stuck in-between him and the bed. Fortunately he placed his mask on top of your bed, releasing it from his brutal grip, you two now in close distance.

You were getting deja vu, the boy staring at your face, perfecting every angle he could before closing his eyes and exhaling a breath he had been holding in.

"You really shouldn't had told me that." He whispered, and you bit your bottom lip, nervously nibbling on it.

Peter reopens his eyes, greeting you with the honey colour you were familiar with, his pupils getting smaller as it adjusted to the light, you felt bad for the sad expression that was held on his face.

He slowly brings a hand up to your face, wiping a tear that had unknowingly fallen down your face before pushing some of your hair behind your right ear.

It's been a long time since he's showed you this kind of affirmation, the last time he ever did something remotely similar was the time he had broken up with you. You had no clue what he was thinking, was he going to kiss you, or scold at you for expressing your love for him when he clearly loved another? The possibilities were endless like the ocean, and so you wished he'd only say his motive so your anxiety wasn't so obvious.

Peter's eyes dip to your lips before glancing back to your eyes, him silently asking for permission. You give the boy a nod as your answer, mirroring his actions when he closes his eyes and leans in.

[kayleighwinchester]

Downpour

((It's been a long time coming, but I finally finished another of the drabble drafts I have rattling around for @artyandink's Jensen-a-thon! This one is meant to prelude Rocks and Rom Coms and Long Story, but can certainly be read separately! I present to you: Stanford-Era Dean being the socially-inept, ill-adjusted boy I maintain he would be.))

What would arguably be the most important day of your life, looking back, was an entirely average Monday; it was one that would even count as a bad day.

You went to class – you were running late, and it was only the first week. You had lunch at some overpriced cafe on campus; another several hours of classes that made a headache start to throb at your temples; as rain began to pour down as you walked home, you ducked into the nearest building – a run-down looking gas station that, really, had no business keeping their prices a solid ten cents higher than everywhere else in town – to wait it out.

He was leaning against the counter beside the display of brightly colored lottery adverts and scratch off tickets, brows furrowed as he stared out at the rain, grumbling about how he’d “just waxed the damn car–”, his eyes fixed on a sleek black muscle car safely hidden beside pump three from the sudden downpour. It seemed he was stuck there, just like you were, if his muttering was any indication. His green eyes darted to yours as the bell above the door jingled cheerfully, and the sour expression on his face lightened just a bit. “Kind’a wet out there, huh?” He asked, lips quirking into a lopsided grin as he took in your damp clothes and disheveled hair.

“Usually what happens when it rains,” You quipped, making a bee-line for the line of coolers, grabbing an overpriced bottled iced coffee. You heard him snort out a laugh behind you, and you couldn’t help but grin as well, idly wandering toward the aisles of snacks.

The sound of the rain on the roof was getting louder, not quieter, and the realization struck that, unless you wanted to arrive home entirely soaked to the skin, you were likely going to be stuck there for a while. Grabbing a bag of mini-donuts, you made your way to the register where he was still leaning, arms folded, on the counter, sliding your newly acquired snacks toward the register.

You reached into your pocket, digging for your wallet.

Nothing.

You paused, dropping your backpack down to one elbow, digging through each compartment.

Nothing.

As you wracked your brain to try to locate your missing wallet – and more importantly, your money – it hit you. You’d spent the batter part of the previous evening indulging in a bit of retail therapy, and your wallet was probably still on the coffee table, right next to your laptop. The realization was a welcome one in that you knew where it was, but an incredibly inconvenient one in regards to where it wasn’t.

You looked up at the cashier – a girl a few years younger than you, who was staring at you with a bored, unamused look. “I, uh – I’ll just put those back,” You offered sheepishly.

“I got it.” You startled slightly as the man beside you leaned forward, casting you a wink and another brilliant grin, sliding a ten across the counter. His eyes cut back to you, that million dollar smirk not fading as he offered his hand. “Dean.” He supplied.

“Y/N,” You introduced, before quickly adding, “Look, I left my wallet – I don’t have any way to pay you back.” You slowly took the bag the cashier offered, shaking his hand with your free one.

“‘S fine,” The man – Dean – waved your concern off with a hand. “It was, what, ten bucks tops? ‘S fine.” He flipped briefly through the change he’d gotten back, counting, and – “Yeah. Seven fifty. Not gonna miss it.” He smiled over at you. God, that smile was borderline disarming. “‘Sides, I can think of a few ways for you to pay me back.”

There it was.

You grimaced slightly, and he seemed to realize his misstep, holding up his hands immediately in surrender. “Not what I meant,” He said quickly, a sheepish expression immediately darting across his face – you got the immediate impression that wasn’t a line he’d tried before, nor one he’d actually thought out before he used it.

God, he had no idea how to talk to women, did he? “Alright,” You said slowly, reaching into your bag to fish out the bottled coffee, giving it a few shakes before you opened it. “What did you mean, then?”

“I was just thinkin’ – I dunno. Coffee, maybe? Real coffee, not that,” He cast a stare at your bottle like it had personally offended him somehow. “And – hell, it doesn’t look like ‘s gonna stop rainin’ any time soon. Maybe I could give you a ride home.”

Your first instinct was the logical one – a very firm thank you, but hell no – but the words didn’t come out. Instead, you let your eyes wander over his expression. If you had to guess, he was around your age - give or take a year or two. He didn’t seem threatening. He seemed awkward. Not for the first time, you were reminded of the boys you’d had classes with the last two years – freshly out of high school, full of faux self-confidence and one-liners they’d snagged from suave action heroes that always got the girl.

You glanced out the window at the rain, which seemed to have no intention of slowing – let alone stopping – any time soon. “Weren’t you just complaining that you just waxed your car?” You pointed out, taking a sip of your coffee.

He gave a one-shouldered shrug, leaning his weight against the counter. “S’pposed to give it an hour – she should be fine.”

“She?” You quoted skeptically, earning another sheepish grin. You took another sip of your coffee, glancing down into the bag at the paper bag of mini-donuts, considering your options. Your shoes and socks were already soaked through, squishing uncomfortably as you shifted. You could wait out the rain – which didn't seem like it would stop any time soon – or you could take your chances ending up on some daytime crime show like your mother loved to watch so often.

You glanced back up at him – he'd gotten a scratch off ticket and was slowly working his way over it, one of the quarters from his change gripped between a thumb and finger, his lower lip caught between his teeth, his eyes flitting back up to yours. “Yeah, alright.” You finally conceded. “Any funny business, and I'm tucking and rolling.” You warned.

Dean gave a wide grin, one that sent a flutter of butterflies through you. “Deal. I won't even lock the doors.” He raised one hand – the one still holding the quarter between two fingers – in a teasing promise. “Just let me finish this –...” His face, scrunched up (adorably, though you would never admit as much) in concentration, lit up as he scratched off the remaining few squares of his lottery ticket, one fist pumping briefly in the air. “Score!” He grinned over at you. “What’d’you say we stop for that coffee first?” He asked, proudly holding up the ticket.

He was still grinning ear-to-ear as he held the door open, the bell jingling overhead, before he followed you out into the rain.

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"The Taste of You"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 4002

Tags: Fresh AU, dark rom-com, dark!Bucky, pre-serum Steve, kidnapping, cannibalism, yandere/basement wife, meet cute-ish, gay sex n' stuff, ignoring of sexual boundaries, dub-con bordering on non-con, (mostly humorous) gore, (mostly humorous) body horror

Summary: Steve is so tired of the meat market that modern dating has become. Just when he's deleted all the apps and given up on ever finding Mr. Right, he meets the perfect guy at the grocery store.

A dark, cute, funny, fucked up, and very tasty love story.

It's a Fresh AU. "If you can't handle the cannibalism, get out of the kitchen" ... or something like that

10. Acquired Taste

Wait! I haven't read a previous chapter. Story Masterlist

Bucky:

Bucky typically has two avenues, when it comes to acquiring new product.

1) Conduct recon, establish a relationship with her/him (though usually her), lure to a secluded location, incapacitate (usually via roofies)

2) Conduct recon, stab & grab on site (needle, not knife—jesus he’s not a monster)

Each avenue presents its own advantages and risks. Relationships and dates take more time and work, they don’t guarantee he’ll get the access he needs, and he runs the risk of someone else in the victim’s life learning about him before they’re disappeared. Stab & grab is by far his preferred method, but he has to be extremely mindful of security footage. Everything’s recorded these days, and in a city like New York, people live in each other’s pockets. Which method Bucky chooses usually comes down to how isolated the candidate’s life is. Carlo made his pick for who Bucky’s got to pay him with, so Bucky drives into the city early Monday to begin his reconnaissance process on Erica Buccanetti. He spends that Monday through Wednesday 7am-10pm, learning all about her.

Erica is twenty-nine. She’s a short, white, “curvy” woman of middling education who works at the DMV. Her job alone makes her deserving of what she’s going to get, Bucky thinks. Erica works Monday through Friday, gets in at 8:55, eats lunch at her desk, and clocks out no later than 4:50 every day. Erica goes to a gym after work and runs on the treadmill until she looks miserable and exhausted. Erica takes the train home to her duplex in Alphabet City, where she has a cat and drinks wine and…

Bucky tosses his binoculars aside, exasperated. “Dammit.”

Erica has three housemates. Fuck.

He can’t do a stab & grab when there are roommates, certainly not three. It’s too risky. Now he’ll have to put in the extra effort to try and run into her somehow, strike up a conversation, get a date or three.

He puts the car in gear and speeds down the block, eager to get on the highway and get home to Steve. He tunes the radio to an 80’s station he likes and taps out the beat as he navigates traffic.

This is the last time, he swears to himself, the absolute last time he lets a client pick their target. It’s too much pressure on Bucky, having to succeed with that one specific girl. Better to have a handful of potentials going, scoop up the one who makes herself the easiest victim. It’s not like most of them don’t do a bang up job of it.

Twenty-some years of “stranger danger” and true crime shows are usually enough to cement the “it won’t happen to me” mindset. Sometimes they’ll even find the right moment to throw out a lame, faux-suspicious “You’re not a serial killer, right?—haha just kidding!”

Bucky thinks it’s a hoot. Obviously these bitches don’t follow the eastern principle of karma.

Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday nights, he gets in very late, after midnight. But he still pops down to check on Steve. He brings them both a drink, hands Steve his, then slides down the far wall to sit. “Ugh.”

“How was your day, honey?” Steve asks. Sarcastically, but at least he’s making jokes.

“Long,” Bucky says, tipping back his old fashioned. They both like them. Maybe it’s become one of their things. “So for this payment, I let Carlo pick his girl,” he says, letting his eyes slip closed as he rolls out the tight muscles in his neck. “Stupid.” Steve is quiet for a long time, and Bucky suspects he’s staring at him. He doesn’t open his eyes to find out. “What?”

“Nothing,” Steve says. “Just … wondering about the logistics of it, I guess.” He’s quiet for another long moment, the ice clinking in his glass telling Bucky when he takes another sip, and then another. “So … are you bi?”

Bucky opens his eyes. “What?”

Steve shrugs. “You date them to get to them. Does that mean you’re into women?”

“Well …” Bucky is, but … “I prefer men,” he says. “By far. But the clients want women, so that’s what I supply. It’s pretend, Steve.”

“Mm.”

Bucky narrows his eyes, sensing Steve’s judgment and not liking it. “I pretend to date them. Briefly. If I have to.”

Steve shrugs and looks away dismissively. “Seems kind of mean, to me.”

“It’s not!” Bucky scowls, straightening up from where he’s been sitting slumped against the wall. “I’m totally nice to them!”

Steve snorts. “Yeah, until you start harvesting their parts for food.”

Bucky glares at him. “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this.”

“Yeah maybe we shouldn’t.” Steve sniffs and looks away. “Not exactly great to hear all about how my boyfriend’s a serial killer.”

Bucky brightens up some at the word ‘boyfriend’. “I’m not, you know. A serial killer.”

Steve’s eyebrows raise sky high. “Oh really? So what would you call it when you kill people, ya know, serially?”

“I don’t get a thrill out of murdering them,” Bucky insists. “I keep them alive as long as I can.”

“I’m sure they appreciate that so much.”

“I keep them comfortable!” Bucky defends. “This is a nice place! I give them gourmet food, they’re on tons of pain meds. They don’t feel a thing.” Steve isn’t even looking at him now, and Bucky’s mood sinks. “... They’re not nice people, Steve,” he says darkly. "They deserve a hell of a lot less than what I afford them.” He watches Steve for a reaction, but doesn’t get one.

Steve just tosses back the end of his drink and fishes out the cherry. He pulls it off the stem with his teeth, chewing it while staring Bucky down. “Done,” he says, pushing the glass in Bucky’s direction.

It’s like he’s saying the conversation’s done too. Bucky sighs and shoves up to standing. He goes over and picks the glass up and gives Steve a long, rueful look. “Eileen,” he eventually says.

“What?”

“The woman in the other room." He nods out towards the hallway. “The one you saw. Her name was Eileen. And that’s whose kidney I had for dinner the other night.” Steve’s eyes widen a little, and Bucky smiles placidly. “Yeah. Good old Eileen. She was thirty two you know. Divorced but seeing someone new. She had a daughter. Cute kid: Tracy. She’s like, seven, eight? Has freckles and pigtails, likes Pokémon.” Bucky shrugs, then lets the mild expression slide right off his face. “Eileen was letting the new boyfriend rape her.” He gets satisfaction from the way that Steve’s eyes widen further and his lips part without a comeback. “Hm, yeah.” Bucky throws back the end of his drink and crunches down on the pieces of ice that float into his mouth. “So, Steve, when I tell you that you really shouldn’t feel bad for these people? You really shouldn’t.”

He turns and leaves before Steve can think of any other arguments. It’s good, Bucky thinks. It’ll give him time to think. Bucky didn’t come to grips with all of this overnight, after all. He can’t expect Steve to, either.

Steve:

In the basement, Steve has lots of time to think. In fact that’s all he does other than sleep. He thinks about the chances of anybody ever finding him here, figures they’re probably low. Bucky’s done this before, maybe dozens of times. He knows how to get away with it. Steve thinks a lot about that, about how there are a bunch of rich as fuck cannibals out in the world, just existing and merrily eating people. How Bucky eats people and thinks that it’s totally fine. How he likes the taste of eating people. It’s nuts.

Steve does wonder, sometimes. What’s it taste like? He feels halfway sick with himself when the thought occurs, but it does occur. It must taste good, he thinks, to warrant such effort and risk. It must taste really damned good. At least to Bucky and his rich friends it does. Steve is sure he’ll never find out for himself. He wouldn’t be able to stomach it.

He thinks about the women who came before him, about how they must’ve felt, trapped down here while Bucky slowly sold off their meat. How many have there been? Steve wonders. And what were their crimes that got them sentenced to this? How did Bucky know they were bad? Steve can’t figure it out, but he also can’t forget what Bucky told him so seriously about Eileen the other night. It sits in his mind, coloring his memory differently. Now when he thinks of Eileen lying on the floor of her cell, begging him for help, he doesn’t feel as much pity for her as he used to. He doesn’t feel as much horror when he remembers her limbless torso wriggling pathetically under the sheet.

Bucky could be lying of course, just making it up so that Steve will accept him more readily. But somehow Steve doesn’t think so. Bucky’d had this look in his eyes when he said it. He’d looked vindictive, and vindicated. Steve shivers as he remembers it. Bucky truly does not have any compunctions about what he does, and he expects Steve to come around to it. Steve doesn’t think he can do that. He’s just hoping against hope that he can pretend long enough to convince Bucky. Long enough until he can get his chance for escape and take it.

He thinks about Carlo, working on the cell down the hallway. Steve doesn’t see him much at all, just hears the sounds of his tools whirring, the smell of fresh wood being sawed, concrete being poured, him taking a piss in one of the other cells' toilets every few hours.

At first Steve does wonder what he might be able to say to try and entice the man to help him escape. But he settles on a big fat nothing. There’s nothing Steve could offer him to get him to take that risk, no way. And it’d be too big a gamble to try anyways. He doesn’t want Carlo to alert Bucky to his attempts at scheming, which Bucky warned Carlo would do if Steve acted up. So Steve keeps his mouth shut when the man arrives and departs each day.

Carlo doesn’t say anything to him. He probably figures that Steve’s dead meat anyway.

Steve considers that maybe he is, and Bucky’s just lying to him to keep him calm. Maybe Bucky tells all the women that they have a chance for survival, if only they’re good and don’t act up.

It’s fucked, but Steve imagines Bucky doing it—taking little pieces from him until there’s nothing left to do but put an end to him. He imagines Bucky kissing him lovingly, then injecting something into his veins and harvesting his internal organs. He imagines Bucky working in the attractive kitchen upstairs; humming a tune, cutting Steve up, pan searing his kidneys and eating them with a Beaujolais.

Steve wonders if he’d taste any different than everyone else Bucky’s ever eaten. Probably not.

Stringy, he thinks, looking down and assessing his arms and legs and torso with a novel sort of appreciation. Steve’s so thin and so tough, he’d probably make a horrible meal.

Bucky:

He plans it out meticulously, just like he always does. But even after all these years (fifteen, to be exact) he still gets that nervous feeling every time he makes his move. Stab & grabs don’t get to him nearly as much. Those are easy, impersonal. It’s the women he has to introduce himself to and flirt with and feign interest in and good intentions for that cause the nerves. He’d call them butterflies, but that seems cruel to compare his meet/capture/kill nerves to first date nerves. When he met Steve, it was a whole other feeling. What he’s about to do now isn’t the same, it’s not innocent like that, and he doesn’t need to pretend that it is.

Bucky knows he’s actually like, the perfect guy for this. He’s good looking and a natural flirt, excellent at making conversation and getting people to like him and to want to open up to him. Women tend to feel instinctively safe around him, so normally he’s guaranteed success in the “meet cute” department. It’s just that ... well …

He’s getting on in age these days, alright? He’s a—very damn handsome—37 years old now, and unfortunately for him, his clients’ tastes tend to stay the same, meaning the pervy old leches keep wanting their women rare at 20-ish. Bucky still has a very high success rate, but there’ve been a few college-aged girls who he approached wrong and they turned their noses up at him.

But he dyes his greys now, okay? He does the whole skincare regime, does Botox (conservatively—he’s got taste). And he’s learned to dumb himself down a bit when he’s going after the younger ones; talk a little smoother, a little less cultured, dress more age-appropriate. Turtlenecks apparently send off the wrong vibe. Unless the girl is into the whole Daddy thing, then it works in his favor.

Anyway, it’s not that big of an issue. All he has to do is flash his car or casually wear a Rolex on a date and even the most dimwitted or discerning potentials fall all over him. Bucky could give straight guys lessons, he swears.

He drives into the city wearing joggers and sneakers and a too-tight tee shirt, hair artfully tousled and earbuds draped around his neck in show. He goes into the gym, into the locker room, spritzes water around his hairline and the neck of his tee shirt, then bumps into her outside—when she’s on her way in, not out. No woman feels sexy after a workout (at least not the kind Erica is torturing herself with)—and exclaims in concern when she stumbles. Ohmygod, I’m so sorry! He grabs her forearm and lets the other hand brush over her waist as he “makes sure she doesn’t fall”. Are you okay?

Her eyes catch on his smile and his biceps right away, so Bucky's confidence is bolstered. He spends the next twelve minutes flirting with her, telling her his name (James), and how glad he is that he at least bumped into the prettiest girl at the gym (not true). Her eyes light up when he mentions that he’s a doctor, and shortly after that he’s typing his burner cell number into her phone. I put myself down as ‘handsome stranger whom you’re definitely gonna call’.

She titters at his joke and smiles, obviously tickled pink as they’re saying goodbye. “Yeah. I’ll um, I’ll call you. Maybe we could meet up for drinks or something?”

“Great!” Bucky shoots her a wink to seal the deal and jogs off down the block. He stops once he’s around the corner and starts walking at a normal pace back to his car. He hums a tune to himself, pleased at how easy that’d been. Now he can get home and probably not have to go out again until Saturday. If Erica’s as easy as he thinks she is, he shouldn’t have to go on many, if any, other dates.

Steve:

“Hey.” Bucky knocks on the doorframe as he slides it open. He steps in, head tilted, cautious smile playing at his lips.

Unfairly handsome, Steve thinks. Those women don’t stand a chance. “Hey.”

“I was hoping you’d still be awake. Wanted to say goodnight.”

“You get her number?” Steve asks. Because he knows that’s what today was—bump into Erica day.

Bucky seems wary, but he comes in and engages anyway. Steve almost feels bad for him. “Yeah,” Bucky says, toeing at the carpet. “Taking her out on Saturday.”

Steve rolls his eyes, scoffing. “‘Taking her out’, yeah.” He sees the hurt flash across Bucky’s face though, and feels bad about it. Ridiculous, but he still feels bad. “Sorry,” he mumbles, looking away. What else is he supposed to say? I understand? He can’t say that when Bucky’s holding him prisoner in his basement. Steve’s literally chained to the floor right now.

He sighs again, disappointed. He’s never been so disappointed in anything in his life. He fucking aches with it. Enough to cry, sometimes, if he thinks enough about Bucky’s smile over a martini glass, his bad dance moves in Steve’s apartment, his body in Steve’s bed. What they'd had together, how it'd felt like they were building something, something to look forward to. Steve bites his tongue so he doesn’t start tearing up when Bucky’s standing there. He doesn’t want to look like another weak victim, even though he knows he is. “You seemed like such a nice guy,” he murmurs, not looking at him.

Bucky comes over and kneels down in front of him. He looks so sad. “Hey,” he says softly, reaching out to palm the side of Steve’s face. He hums when Steve lets his eyes slip closed and leans into it.

Crazy, what a little bit of isolation will make you feel, Steve thinks.

“I miss you, Steve. I promise you this isn’t going to last forever.” When Steve just breathes silently, Bucky strokes his thumb over his cheek. Steve shivers. “Hey, would you want to go on a date with me?”

Steve’s eyes open. “What?”

Bucky smiles softly. “A date. You’ve been so good this whole time, and I miss you.” He leans forward and pecks a kiss to his lips. It’s brief, but it still makes Steve’s lips tingle. “I miss spending time with you.” Bucky’s eyes flick over his face. “So how about it, huh? You want to come up and just hang out one night? I can make us something. We’ll have drinks, maybe watch a movie?”

Steve blinks, feeling so odd at being asked a question like that. One of the things he thinks about to pass the time is what he and Bucky might be doing right now, in their new relationship, if Steve hadn’t opened the basement door. “A movie?” he repeats softly. The idea of getting to leave this boring room for anything is tempting. Steve wants to escape of course, but even if he knew he couldn’t, he still thinks it’d be nice to get to do something. Even if it’s with Bucky. “Yeah,” he breathes, hopeful. He hasn’t been allowed upstairs in days, not since he took a shower. “M-maybe I could …” he cuts himself off, remembering how Bucky had taken advantage of the last time, how he’d touched him. And Steve was weak. He’d let him do it.

“Maybe what?” Bucky asks, looking so kind. He always does, like he’s just a kind, caring guy who also happens to keep Steve chained in his basement. “Steve? What were you going to say?”

Steve smiles and shakes his head. “Mm, nevermind.” He doesn’t need a shower. “Nothing.”

Bucky seems unhappy about whatever Steve’s not saying, but he doesn’t press him any further. He takes a deep breath and stands back up. “I won’t be out so late anymore,” he tells him. “Just a trip or two more to the city. You can have your real meals back again, no more of this junk food.”

Steve nods. Bucky’s left him with plenty of snacks these past few days, but Steve has missed the hot meals. He’s missed seeing Bucky three times a day, even missed the attention Bucky gives him when he’s eating. “Okay,” he says.

Bucky stands there for a long minute, staring at him. Steve keeps his eyes on the carpet but he can feel the weight of Bucky’s gaze. Eventually he hears Bucky sigh, then leave through the door. Steve looks up to try and catch sight of him on the way out, but he’s already moved on down the hall.

That night Steve falls asleep thinking about what it’ll be like, once there’s another person in the basement with him.

Bucky:

Bucky meets her for the aforementioned drinks. He’s dressed nicely, in a black button down and slacks and nice shoes. He wears the Rolex, because Erica’s got three housemates so flashing his wealth at her can’t hurt. He greets her with a smile and a hug at the bar, and they both settle in and order their drinks. Bucky asks her about her life, quickly figures out that she’s body conscious and makes sneaky little comments about how he likes a woman that doesn’t slip right through his fingers. She eats that shit up, and before Bucky knows it, she’s excusing herself for the bathroom and leaving her third cocktail behind.

Too fucking easy.

Bucky picks up both their drinks and informs the bartender that they’ll be moving over to that table in the dark corner over there. The bartender gives him a nod, and Bucky nods back. He can’t have the guy seeing it, when he slips the roofie in her drink.

He’s learned to crush them up into a Splenda packet. It masks the bitterness and then if he does get caught, it just looks like he’s sweetening the drink. Erica returns from the restroom and he flags her down to their new spot. “More privacy,” he purrs at her, and she giggles and sits down next to him.

They continue to flirt and talk about pithy little topics until he can tell that she’s starting to feel the effects. “Hey,” he says, not wanting her to be stumbling before they leave the bar. “I know this is fast but… I dunno, I just really like you.” He says it all bashful, like he’s embarrassed of himself, and she eats that up, too. “Would you maybe wanna go back to my place? We could have another drink, talk and listen to some music, or…”

He trails off, and she gives him an enthusiastic, “Sure, okay!” sloppy at the edges from how the drugs are creeping into her system now. She hasn’t realized it yet. Bucky has to get her out of this public place before she does.

“Great,” he says, smiling. He offers her his arm like a gentleman (and to make sure she’s steady enough on her feet to not draw attention), and she simpers and holds onto him and they head out. Bucky sees her recognizing the type of car that he drives as he opens the door for her and she gets in. She tucks her lips in like she’s trying to keep herself from outright grinning, which makes Bucky chuckle as he slides into the driver’s side and shuts his door. “Buckle up,” he tells her sweetly. “Wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”

She giggles and obeys, and Bucky thinks about how she’ll probably be so easy, in the basement. Girls like her just want to be loved and approved of so badly. She’ll probably go from the Depression stage to Acceptance so fast, it’ll make his head spin. He’s glad. It’s always easiest for those girls. They suffer the least. And despite the fact that Bucky knows about Erica and her little brother who died under “suspicious circumstances” in 2009, he still doesn’t want to torture her. He’s not a sadist.

He’s karma.

She’s still conscious when they get on the highway, enough to look out the window and make a cute little confused noise. “Mm. You said your place’sin Tr’becca?” she slurs.

Bucky smiles and pats her hand. “Yeah. But I’m taking you somewhere else.”

It’s cute, how she pouts and tries to protest that. Bucky’s almost tempted to say something right then and there. But he doesn’t. He always likes to save the Big Reveal for when they’re settled in their rooms and fully sober. He likes to have a drink in hand, be relaxed in something comfortable. Really settle in for the show.

“Just close your eyes,” he soothes her, watching her fade out. “We’ll be there soon.” She passes out and Bucky smirks, thinking about how she’s about to get hers.

Because Karma’s not a bitch.

It’s a plastic surgeon who likes to cook.

Story Masterlist

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[seenoversundown]

Masterpost

₊⊹ The Caravel Tavern Series ⊹₊

The opening of Caravel Tavern was a dream come true for Jake. With the help of his best friends and brothers, naturally. In a small city in New England, it's rare to come across new faces. (or even run into some from the past) Follow along through the series to discover what this piratical themed bar has in store for these boys.

WARNING: This series would be considered an AU ROM-COM, with romantic themes, wholesome friendship vibes, found family, and silly goofy behavior throughout.

Trigger Warnings will be listed at the beginning of chapters if applicable. (Please reach out if you feel anything was missed and I will make sure to add it in quickly!)

Please be advised that this series will include slow burn, open-door romances, meaning there will be on-page sexual content. Mature readers only (18+)

• All of these can be read as stand alone books, but do read better as a series! They are interconnected, so you will get more details if read in order 🫶🏻 •

💜 🩵 💛 ❤️

Sam Kiszka x Willa (Fem OC) - Temporary Hiatus

Enemies to Lovers | Forced Proximity | Workplace Romance

Masterpost

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Josh Kiszka x Quinn (Non Binary OC) New posts every Monday!

Love At First Sight | Secret Dating | Friends to Lovers

Masterpost

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

• Book 3 - TBA

Daniel Wagner x Melody (Fem OC)

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (Fem OC) New posts every Thursday!

Workplace Romance | Friends With Benefits to Lovers | He Falls First

Masterpost

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Anything extra that is within the world of Caravel Tavern:

Prologue ⁂ - (Jake POV) : Opening night of the bar and all the festivities that come with that.

Dueling Cameras ⁂ - Sam x Willa (Fem OC) decide to make getting pumpkins into a little competition (per usual) (One Shot)

Chiaroscuro ⁂ - Josh x Quinn (Non Binary OC) attend a local film festival where Josh gets to present a short film he's directed. (One Shot)

Spooks & Cider ⁂ - Daniel x Melody (Fem OC) Back in high school, go to a Fall Festival where Melody faces her fear of the Haunted House. (One Shot)

Affirmation ⁂ - Jake x Charlotte (Fem OC) find themselves in an oddities shop where Charlotte has her tarot cards read, whether she believes in it or not. (One Shot)

Be Naughty, Save Santa The Trip ☠ - Sam x Willa (Fem OC) Sam runs late after a shoot and Willa leaves him a little surprise for when he gets back home to her. (One Shot)

Merry Everything & A Happy Always ⁂ - Josh x Quinn (Non Binary OC) have always had the tradition of baking cookies together, but Josh sets up a scavenger hunt for Quinn to bake some this time for a very special reason. (One Shot)

It's The Most Wonderful Time of Year ⁂ - Daniel x Melody (Fem OC) took on hosting Christmas dinner with everybody but unfortunately for Daniel, nothing is going smoothly. (One Shot)

White Christmas ☠ - Jake x Charlotte (Fem OC) have a million and one things to do on Christmas Day and Charlotte is already stressed by 6 am. Thankfully, Jake knows exactly how to calm her down. (One Shot)

Succulent ☠️ - Sam x Willa (Fem OC) take a little trip to Vermont for Valentine’s Day where Sam cooks up a nice dinner with a great idea for dessert. (One Shot)

Satiate ☠ - Josh x Quinn (Non Binary OC) - Quinn is sweet enough to make breakfast in bed, but also has a devious little plan for their favorite person. (One Shot)

Saccharine ⁂ ☠ - Daniel x Melody (Fem OC) spend a sweet Valentine's Day making cinnamon rolls together and then have a cozy evening away. (One Shot)

Siren ⁂ ☠️ - Jake x Charlotte (Fem OC) get stuck at the bar on Valentine’s Day, but Jake makes sure to make it up to her after the bar closes. (One Shot)

Allure ⁂ - Jake x Charlotte (Fem OC) it's Family Lake day and that means getting to longingly stare at Jake while he takes care of everything he can. (there is a part 2 that's linked at the end <3)

TagList | Jukebox Playlist | Master List (for other one shots / fics)

Wattpad | AO3

[corvidco]

IM HOMELESS RIGHT NOW AND WANT TO BUY MY MOM A COOL BIRTHDAY PRESENT; BUY MY ART FOR 75% OFF PRETTY PLEASE 🙏

Day 294 of drawing ponk until they collab w me

SELF INDULGENT SUNDAY MONDAY workin on coms

@butchtw @evren-sadwrn @bdaycheesecake @goooser @1247 @kuprisunshka @snails-are-made-of-jelly

[trulybetty]

Sunday Week In Review on a Monday

How is everyone doing? Did we make it through the last week? Those who got a long weekend I hope it was a good one! Yesterday was a clusterfuck and I had the mother of all naps - the type where you wake up and don't know where you are let alone what day of the week it is lol.

So here is Sunday's Week in Review, on a Monday edition! 💕

Truly Betty Updates This Week…

Strings IV

Sequins

First Sentence Game

Fics I Enjoyed This Week…

A Girl Walks Into a Bookstore (Ezra) by @oonajaeadira

While I’m still undecided if I truly enjoy Prospect, I absolutely do love a good Ezra fanfic and this one doesn’t disappoint. It started as a late-night read last Sunday when I was the only one awake and once I started I couldn’t stop. It also seems to have popped up for a lot of other readers as I’ve seen it all over my dash since. @oonajaeadira master list is a joy to go through on Sundays at the moment. 

Until Now, Until You | Chapter 1 (Javier Peña) by @wildemaven

This was all the right levels of sexy and spicy and leaving you wanting more and I can’t wait to see how this plays out when the two run into one another again!

Leave off Your Wanderings (Joel Miller) by @oonajaeadira

This series is a total balm to my TLOU2 feels - this is the ending Joel deserved (and in my mind the official sequel to TLOU) and in the third instalment the autumn vibes are warm and cozy, and the build-up between Joel and Songbird is soft in all the right places. This whole series is a warm gentle hug and the writing is so good - definitely check this one out.

Hungry Hearts | Atlantic City (Joel Miller) by @atinylittlepain

I’m sad that this series is nearing its end, but that means I get to go back and read it again. Between flashbacks of young Joel with baby Sarah we’ve got Cherry and Joel reconciling in present day and never knew mini-vans could be so sexy, so check it out!

The Layover | Epilogue (Frankie Morales) by @goodwithcheese

This finale was bittersweet - it has been such a pleasure to follow this story, so much so that it was a highlight of my week. The story wraps up in a way that is perfect for reader x Frankie with them both on pace with one another. It’s done so perfectly that I read it more than once. I will be revisiting this story for sure.

Late Night Texts | Epilogue (Javier Peña) by @mvtthewmurdvck

Another fantastic story that came to a close this week *sigh*, this was just  the perfect ending. This story is a delicious rom com romp and I know will hold up to multiple reads. I don’t want to give anything away if you’ve not read it, but it’s a delight.

The Window (Dave York) by @wildemaven

This was a delight to read and Heidi crafts a great story of longing from a distance that has a soft ending that is all enveloping and lends itself to multiple reads. 

Bush Pilot (Frankie Morales) by @legendary-pink-dot

Oh boy, this one *fans self* this one was something else. Frankie taking you to see the sunrise but makes you see stars instead in the back of his truck. Oomph, all kinds of good spicy smut here that lends itself to a second read… or three ;) 

sam and diane, eat your heart out (Marcus Pike) by @chronically-ghosted

I could easily be biased as this was written based on the prompts I sent Taylor - however, Taylor blew it out of the park with our boy Marcus! This was spicy in all the right places and honestly, I would love to see more of these two. This is a take on Marcus Pike x Reader that I haven’t seen before and it will be on my perma reread list that is for sure! Also, peep the Cheers reference, *squee*

IRL | Part 2 (Javi Gutierrez)  by @grogusmum

I’ve had a hard time finding some good Javi G. fanfics, but this one here is so good in its characterization. The story of Javi meeting Reader for the first time since meeting online, is incredibly sweet and I had been waiting in anticipation for this second chapter since I finished the first. It’s also one of the few plus sized reader fanfics that nails it without going over the top and making the character a stereotype. I have this bookmarked to go back and re-read this week, because that ending has been living rent free in my head all week.

Private Dick (Tim Rockford) by @wardenparker

Speaking of plus size reader interpretations - this was one of the few that really resonated with me. I haven’t come across many Tim Rockford fanfics (if you have any others, please send them my way) - but this felt like a perfect interpretation - great at reading situations, until they’re too close to him, but he’s in a process of redeeming himself through his relationship with Reader.

Fics I’m Looking Forward to Reading…

My TBR List is still a work in progress, will share it when it’s done 💕

Light Me Up (Benny Miller) by @musings-of-a-rose

Thanks to Jess and Heidi I seem to be straying into Benny territory this week and have been recommended this story to dip my toe further in. I mean the opening premise alone is enough to have me excited to get stuck in!

Double Dealings (Javier Peña & Ezra) by @julesonrecord & @stardustandskycrystals

1920’s, New Orleans and the potential of two Pedro characters? I cannot wait to get stuck into this one this week over my morning coffee this week!

Posts I Enjoyed This Week…

@shirks-all-responsibilities reminding me of my grumpy Joel (Pedro) header for the mobile layout of my blog. Now has me thinking about making a seasonal one now! September is Halloween Eve of course! 🎃

@wildemaven’s early morning thot post that just took on a life of it’s own 🥵

@rhool’s live blog of the pilot of the Pedro show that never was ‘The Sixth Gun’ entertained me while I had a tame evening watching something Mr. Truly wanted to watch while sipping on a non-alcoholic beer lol.

Things I’ve Enjoyed This Week…

The long weekend - didn’t do anything, no one slept through the night, but there’s something satisfying waking up on a Monday and knowing you don’t have to work.

Saturday’s interactions and posts were a delight to go through and helped my Saturday working go by so much quicker and made for a more enjoyable day.

This Week’s Song…

This recommendation came from @gnpwdrnwhiskey who told me it was Dieter x Bryony coded and it totally is. I’ve listened to this on repeat and I’m dying to revisit these two again, and have something up my sleeve 🎃

Hope everyone has a great week this week and Monday is treating you well! 💕 xx

[yamirexic]

travelling with argos - episode 1: berlin

it was the first time for argos leaving the void

he didn't even know that it was possible, he just knew that humans were occasionally comming to the void but he himself didn't know how to leave

he'd be so excited to visit a big city like berlin

he likes adventures so that's actually perfect: new culture, new food, new night scene, new people etc.

he is known to be quite energetic in the void but out of the void?! I would recommend to put him on a leash or he'd just run away everywhere to look at things (like in the stargazing episode)

you guys would go to some botanical areas, go and see sights like the Fernsehturm (tv tower), the Brandenburger Tor or the Siegessäule (or how we call it "Gold Else")

he would come home with 30+ plants and would present them to the void fellas and obviously mr plant

you would go to different café's and restaurant's and try all kind of food (german, thai, vietnamese, japanese, mexican, turkish, english, korean, colombian etc.)

you would definetly pull him to Markthalle 9 to go to Street Food Thursday, where a lot of different street food's around the world are being presented and let's just say... he LOVED it!!! (please go there if you're in berlin, it's so good but it's only on thursday)

you guys would go shopping (he, totally buying a lot of stuff with stars, eyes and things that are blue (also things with plants))

he found a plushie looking similar to mr plant and you can guess, yes, he bought it

you guys stop at some souvenir stores and buy random stuff, probably spending hundreds of euros on that (but not just the typical stuff, also artistic stuff)

he would rant about this trip for MONTHS, LITERALLY MONTHS, be ready to hear him say "the food was so gooodddd" "berlin is so cool!" "next time you need to go with me (to every other person than you)" "I need to go there again!" "in german you would say this, in german you would say that" and so on

also you guys totally messed up with the hotel room so you needed to sleep in one fucking bed

he also picked up some german comedy and movies

when he wakes up in the morning, he says stuff like "morgen" or "moin (that's a hamburg thing but all german teenagers say it now)"

all people either look at him, complement him or think he's cosplaying (a lot pf people just shrug and say "typischer montag morgen (typical monday morning)" "so ne Leute trifft man immer in der U-Bahn (those kind of people are always seen in german subways or you meet them there)

[pepprs]

ok so updates w more detail now that i have a little more time to think / write it out. ik it’s silly / tmi to do this on tumblr dot com but whatever lol

i am 90% sure im going to rhode island for a conference in october. this one ive known about for a while and it’s not a big deal bc im not presenting or anything and i’ll know a lot of ppl there and the topic / contrnt / theme is completely in my wheelhouse so i will not be alone and i’ll be in the know abt stuff. lole

i am… 60% sure im going to chicago for a conference in november. and presenting. and i’ll be the only one from my team there. and this will be at a huge like… convention type thing in a field that is not mine and i won’t know anyone there except the other delegation members who will likely all be from the same department. it’s 5 days (!!!) and idk if i’ll be there the whole time but i kinda want to be even if most of it won’t be relevant to me bc.. like id be going alone bc everyone wants me to develop confidence and stuff and realize i can do it and represent us independently. and i want that. but im also fucking terrified in part bc this would be my first time traveling independently since brighton (so like in almost 4 yrs lol). also i have been to chicago before (in 2018 for a different conference) so im scared to like. revisit that. but also excited. like what if i meet someone? but what if im being pushed into this or pushed away? idk and now i can’t focus or articulate myself well bc there’s too much noise and everyone is trying to talk to me (i need to actually be doing work b it im typing this instead bc im freaking the fuck out over all these developments lol). anyways

also…….. i am……. 60% sure i am going to. take a graduate level course this semester. on mondays from 4:30-7. and then apply to be part of that masters program it’s in starting in the spring and ahve that class + a possible winter class count towards the credits. and it would take me 3 yrs to finish the masters. i don’t want one for the sake of havign one and i REALLY don’t want to be in the hell of being torn away from work and self care to do school stuff. but i need a masters degree and have had my eye on this program since i was a sophomore in undergrad and it seems kinda meant to be a little bit. and i get 100% tuition remission bc i work here LOLLLLL so it’ll be completely free which is huge!!!!! and it’s like why the fuck not if i have this opportunity but also im so scared and idk if im cut out for grad school due to my mental illness (unironically lol). help

also i switched desks this week and now i sit where my old supervisor (and my new supervisor / her successor LMAO) sat and this one colleague i have in a different dept who is the sweetest person EVER keeps commenting on it and saying im my old supervisors protege and that im the new her and. it’s making me want to scream a little bit but idk if it’s in a good way or bad way

[alwayslovingharry]

Social Media I (WTMFS)

A/N: Hi everyone, with university I've been a bit busy (again) and I've hardly been able to come back to tumblr. The thing is, today while I was studying I came up with this idea and I needed to post it. These posts will be linked to the chapters of When The Music Finally Starts, so they will go chronologically. In the future they might even serve to help me progress the story faster since there are chapters that I find difficult to write and it might be easier using this way.

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

PAIRING: Harry Styles x Hailey Foster (1Dmember!reader)

WARNING: Like i said, other times, I'm not an english native speaker, maybe there are some mistakes. Also, a little look into the next chapter of the story :)

TIMELINE OF THE POSTS: DECEMBER 2016-APRIL 2017

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

DECEMBER 12, 2016:

According to sources inside the show, Niall Horan, Hailey Foster, Liam Payne and Harry Styles turned up to support Tomlinson in his X-Factor performance. The 25-year-old singer was performing for the first time since the death of his mother, Johannah Deakin, on 7 December.

Although this shows the great friendship and closeness that still exists between the band members, Zayn Malik was the only one of the former bandmates who didn't show up to express his support for Louis.

It should be remembered that rumour has it that Malik, who announced his departure from the band a month and a half into their third world tour in March 2015, ended on bad terms with Louis and the band's only female member, Hailey, in particular. Although the reasons for the dispute never transcended, it is possible that they are still present as the singer did not show up to support one of his former "friends" in such a hard moment.

THE SUN © 2016

FEBRUARY 14, 2017:

5.4k likes

1dloveupdates: JACK WALKER AND HAILEY FOSTER ON THEIR VALENTINE'S DATE AT THE RITZ IN LONDON!!!!

27 comments

my1dheart: sorry, but they are a stunt since 4ever

harley'sdaughter: the worst i've seen, dude

haileywithlove: I've seen photos of her outfit, she was ✨GORGEOUS✨

futuremrsstyles: where's harry?

amelia_west: he isn't his boyfriend or anything, GROW UP!

futuremrsstyles: OMG, why u're so rude?

1dloveupdates: @amelia_west @futuremrstyles please, no fights on my account

FEBRUARY, 2017:

10.7k likes

hsdailyofficial: Harry recently in Jamaica!!!

109 comments

HSwifey: he's literally a model

ismael's_sis: hopin' he's working on an album

larrylover: people are saying Louis's also there!!🔥

MARCH 4, 2017:

8.3k likes

hfdaily: Hailey arriving to Milán airport few days ago!!

64 comments

1Dstarforever: she's comming home, she's comming homee

hailey_fosterfan2307: she's a fashion icon even when she takes a plane lmao

MARCH 9, 2017:

MARCH 31, 2017:

1,2M likes

harrystyles: SIGN.OF.THE.TIMES // 7.APRIL.17 //

101k comments

ismael's_sis: F*CKING FINALLY!!! OMG!!

APRIL 21, 2017:

31.6k likes

thegrahamnortonshowofficial: Mr Harry Styles on the show, ladies and gentleman

132 comments

lisawatts: Sign Of The Times was so emotional

freddythescottish: he's a funny guy, he was great on the show

seb_thestark: this dude should've gone solo before

APRIL 22, 2017

12,6k likes

haileyfqueen: Hailey with Jack leaving The London Studios yesterday (21/04/2017)

90 comments

harleyisreal2012: I'm just sayin that Harry was also there yesterday 🫣 

slayhailey: she went with him, he's going to appear on Good Morning Britain next Monday

h_defender: he doesn't give me good vibes, too arrogant 😐 

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Thanks for reading/watching and I hope you liked it, please leave any comments or leave a like it if you enjoyed it.

See you soon :)

[fiatlingua]

Conlang Relay and reminder of LCC abstract deadline

Hiyas conlangers!

As we prepare for LCC 10 on April 22-23 (digital conference), we're also getting started on the conlang relay.

If you're interested in participating in the conlang relay, please email Kelvin Jackson (Kechpaja) at kechpaja<at>kechpaja&lt;dot>com to sign up.

Important: Include any dates between February 10-April 10 that you are NOT available to receive the torch. The exact dates of the relay will depend on the number of participants. Additionally, if you consider the conlang that you're planning to use for the relay to be "unusual" (e.g., 2D writing system, very alien grammar and/or mode of transmission), please let Kelvin know-if there is enough participation from this category, there may be an "unusual ring."

Never been part of a conlang relay? Here's what you need to know: The relay master (Kelvin) will prepare a text in a conlang (the torch) and will send that text as well as any documentation needed to translate it to the first person in the relay. Over the subsequent 48 hours, that person will try to translate the text into a common language (e.g., English), and then into their conlang. Once the translation is completed, they send the torch to the next person in the relay (including the materials to be able to translate). At the end of the relay, the relay master then does a final translation. During the LCC, we'll present the relays through the various iterations and compare how much the original text changed in translation. Relays operate on a tight schedule to ensure people have at least 48 hours to do the two translations (out of the previous conlang and into their own conlang), so don't be surprized when you receive instructions that if you do not complete your translation on time, you will be skipped.

Additionally, we are still accepting abstracts to present at LCC 10. You can submit an abstract to talk about any aspect of conlanging-from showcasing personal conlangs to how-to talks to formal analyses of conlangs. To submit your abstract, follow the instructions below. Important: Abstracts are due by Monday, January 23. The Language Creation Society is currently accepting submissions from those wishing to present at the 10th Language Creation Conference (LCC 10). LCC 10 will be a virtual conference, hosted on Zoom and YouTube live on April 22-23, 2023. To submit an abstract for presentation, please email your abstract to president<at>conlang&lt;dot>org by January 23, 2023.

Your abstract should not exceed 250 words (title/authors, pictures/graphs/figures, and references do not count towards word limit) and include the following important information:

Title

Author(s) names (with optional affiliation)

Author(s) email address(es)

Your local time zone (will be used for scheduling presentation of successful abstracts)

After January 23rd, we will review abstracts and provide notifications of acceptance/decline by February 22, 2023. Note: The length of presentations will not be finalized until presentations are confirmed. We will aim for presenters to have a 30-minute window, including a 10-minute question period; a select few presenters will be offered a 60-minute slot, including a 15-minute question period. Talks devoted to a specific conlang will be considered for lightning talks, which will be 15 minutes, including a 5-minute question period. These times may be adjusted based on requirements of the final program.

Additionally, we are also seeking proposals for panel discussions. You may submit a proposal for a panel discussion on a topic relevant to conlanging (Examples: at LCC7, we had a panel discussion on the role of conlanging in the academy; at LCC8, we had a panel discussion on conlangs in popular fiction; and at LCC 9, we had a panel discussion on the benefits of natlang study groups for conlangers). If you wish to submit a panel proposal, please give a short description of the topic to be discussed; a couple example questions that the moderator could start off the discussion with; and three-to-five panelists to populate the panel, with a brief bio for each panelist. You should discuss the proposal with your suggested panelists before submission to confirm that the panelists are willing to be involved, and that they plan to attend the conference.

All documents should be submitted in PDF format. If anyone has any questions, please feel free to ask.

Fiat Lingua!

[sneek-m]

Favorite Japanese Dramas 2022

I watched even more Japanese dramas this year. Here’s what I liked:

Waru ~ Hataraku No Ga Kakko Waruitte Dare Ga Itta? ~ (Wednesdays, 10 p.m.; Nippon TV)

What a powerful vehicle this drama was for Mio Imada, who delivered if not the year’s best comedy performance as Maririn, then one of the year’s most physical. Her character’s role as part-village idiot of the story called for the actress to practically be a cartoon character come to life, but she transcended the status of the central class clown by sheer committal to the act. Her performance is absolutely to the show’s benefit when the show’s actual politics isn’t as progressive as it thinks it is: it reveals the sad state of things, and how behind the conversation is, if the writers think we the audience should be applauding them for merely bringing up the existence of the glass ceiling and gender inequality in the workplace in 2022. Maririn seemed as though she was written as the modern Japanese Forest Gump, naively navigating the country’s workforce culture, but Imada turned it into a whole lot more.

Shizukachan To Papa (Sundays, 10 p.m.; NHK)

The chemistry between Tsurube Shofukutei and Riho Yoshioka as the titular father and daughter was incredible — I can watch them yell at each hour every week for months — but I also have to bring up the unforgettable Keiichi played by Hey! Say! JUMP’s Yuto Nakajima. An exaggeration of a character to deliver the point of communication, sure, but his whimsy is something I missed once I tuned into the actor’s following project, Junjou Dissonance, whose character was so tonally opposite, it completely turned me off.

First Penguin! (Wednesdays, 10 p.m.; Nippon TV)

Nao is another actress I’ve seen as a side character in past dramas, and so it was exhilarating to watch her take the wheel of First Penguin! as basically her star-making vehicle. A big hand to the source material for providing her the foundation of an already-strong character for her to further flesh out: First Penguin! is inspired by the real story of Chika Tsubouchi, who, like Nao’s Nodoka, rallied together fishermen, though not without conflict, to create the direct-delivery business in the form of what they call the “fish box” in the drama. While the actual politicking is questionable as real accounts, a true story from the Tsubouchi’s history does get expanded into one memorable episode: in order to win their favor and trust in the business, Nodoka treats out her fishermen to a Michelin-star French restaurant managed by a client in order for them to actually taste the fruits of their labor. Fact or fiction, the victory is priceless.

Tsukuritai Onna To Tabetai Onna (Weekdays, 10:45 p.m.; NHK)

Fifteen minutes feel way too short for the amount of sweetness each episode contains, though the length makes the story tidy, not slight. The drama presents enough without being expanded into a feature-length rom-com a la Kinou Nani Tabeta? I partly suspect the source material has yet to build the story and its lead characters to warrant such a length for an adaptation, but also the size of its conversations more properly fit in scale within a miniature, slice-of-life story such as this. The title gives away the simplicity anyway: while there are definitely moments of questioning — of sexuality, relationship dynamics, among others — it leaves the two feeling content to be just that: a woman who likes to cook and a woman who likes to eat.

Mahou No Rinobe (Mondays, 10 p.m.; Fuji TV)

As if I didn’t name Remo Love my favorite drama of 2020, Haru once again surprised me how great she is in a comedy. She appears so cool on the surface as Koume, and  I also perceive her as a rather soft-spoken celebrity, so it’s a sight whenever she absolutely cracks in response to the dumb mistakes made by the series of pathetic men among her line of work. (You know who’s the dark horse among the men in the main cast? Taizo Harada of, yes, comedy trio Neptune.) I see this drama more in line with a buddy-cop comedy in the suits of a home renovation marketing firm than workplace romance, though not that it bothers to have some inevitable office love.

Hatsukoi No Akuma (Saturdays, 10 p.m.; Nippon TV)

Three of the main four leads are so idiosyncratic as characters that I worry they may present a barrier of entry for this show. But like the best shows written by Yuji Sakamoto — Quartet, Omameda Towako — it nurtures a one-of-a-kind relationship among them, enough to convince these oddballs deserve each other as companions. The actual mystery component to the story is fine, but it’s really about getting to know these characters and each of their dark histories. Or, more like how you can only know a version of them as they present themselves to you.

Tsuma, Shougakusei Ni Naru (Fridays, 10 p.m.; TBS)

Even with a wacky premise — a dead wife returns to the family in the body of a third grader — the least convincing part of the whole story is Misato Morita’s Yoshimi being attracted to Shinichi Tsutsumi’s Keisuke, who is at least 20 years senior as her co-worker. It helps the drama is self-aware of its absurdity, making for great, if expected comedic moments, like the constant reality check given to Keisuke of who he’s actually hanging out with whenever he’s out catching up with his “wife.” Get through that initial obstacle, and the drama reveals a poignant story about death, grief and how to ultimately make peace.

Mai Agare! (Weekdays, 8 a.m.; NHK)

Mai Agare! is the first asadora I’ve ever watched, and maybe I’ll find it less unique as I watch more of it in the future. For now, I am enamored by its simple, soap-y wholesomeness. I’m charmed by the innocence in Haruka Fukuhara’s Mai as she embraces her naive dream to become a pilot because she simply finds flying so life-fulfilling. (Meanwhile, her cohorts in pilot school is inspired by more noble reasons, like being the change in a male-dominated field or following the footsteps of his family, but the gap only further establishes Mai’s character.) I suspect it will get darker as the ripples of the 2008 recession has started to make its way into the drama now third of the way in,  but I am not worried of it getting any bit of cynical. Call me to easy to please, but sometimes when I get back from a long day of work, I just want a heart-warming story like this one.

Silent (Thursdays, 10 p.m.; Fuji TV)

Here’s a question to those who also watched Silent: Did we need Minato? All I can say is that I sure was happy when he got out of the picture, and the drama finally gave floor for Haruna Kawaguchi’s Tsumugi and Ren Meguro’s Sou to deepen their relationship. The show actually opened up and spotlighted a whole other characters, too, after the first act, with each episode becoming more essay-like as it focused on its character of the week to deliver a point. I initially worried Silent would wear itself thin because it carried itself as a rather low-key slice-of-life, but that very day-to-day ease is what I loved from it, especially as matters between its character grew more complicated.

Other dramas I liked:

Elpis ~Kibou, Arui Wa Wazawai~

Atom No Ko

Jizoku Kanou Na Koi Desuka ~Chichi To Musume No Kekkon Koushinkyoku~

Kimi No Hana Ni Naru

Ishiko To Haneo ~Sonna Koto De Uttaemasu?~

Unicorn Ni Notte

[f1]

McLaren rookie Piastri explains why hes confident he wont suffer from the same struggles as Ricciardo

Oscar Piastri reckons the range of different cars he drove during his junior motorsport career will stand him in good stead – and help him adapt to any set-up headaches – when he graduates to F1 with McLaren. Piastri steps up to F1 as an F3 and F2 champion, taking the spot previously occupied by Daniel Ricciardo, who spent the 2021 and 2022 seasons struggling to feel at one with McLaren machinery before the two sides agreed to part ways. FIRST LOOK: McLaren present vibrant-looking MCL60 to kick off 2023 anniversary year As his fellow Australian’s replacement, Piastri now faces the challenge of slotting in alongside Lando Norris – who is preparing for his fifth season with McLaren – and giving the Woking team the driver line-up consistency they have been craving. At the launch of McLaren’s new MCL60 F1 car on Monday, Piastri was asked if he has any concerns about finding his feet when the experienced Ricciardo before him, as an eight-time Grand Prix winner, faced so many difficulties. However, the 21-year-old swiftly pointed to his impressive single-seater journey to highlight that he has regularly moved into different cars and hit the ground running – backed up by successive titles in Formula Renault Eurocup, F3 and F2. Piastri drove for McLaren at the 2022 post-season test in Abu Dhabi Addressing the situation, Piastri said: “I think, firstly, it’s obviously a shame that things didn’t work out between the team and Daniel, but I think for me personally, I’m not concerned about a lack of experience. “I think through my junior career, I’ve had to change car every single year – I’ve never driven the same car for more than a year. I think adaptation is a big strength that you need in the junior categories, and I think that’s been prominent in mine. GALLERY: Take a closer look at McLaren’s new car and livery for the 2023 F1 season “I think from that aspect I’m not concerned. I’ve obviously done a bit of testing in the 2021 car, and the post-season test last year with McLaren, so I know a little bit what to expect. “But I think as a driver you always need to adapt; there’s always going to be certain things that are maybe not going to suit you quite as well as you want. You always want more grip and more power! I think there’s always some limitations, it’s just how you can drive around those.” Piastri replaces Ricciardo as Norris’ team mate at McLaren for the 2023 season Piastri faces the added task of arriving in F1 – and lining up alongside the established Norris – without racing at all in 2022, having instead carried out reserve driver duties for Alpine. But again he insisted he wasn't concerned. “I think coming into F1 from any racing, there was always going to be a period of adaptation," he said. "The cars are much faster, the people I’m racing against are the best drivers in the world, so regardless of whether I had a year off, that was always going to be a challenge. TECH ANALYSIS: Is it a case of evolution or revolution for McLaren’s new MCL60? “I think in terms of [going] up against Lando, there’s going to be natural comparisons being in the same car, but I think we’re obviously at very different stages of our career – Lando is entering his fifth year, I’m entering my first. “I’m not drawing on it too much. I think it will be good to have him as a team mate, and a good benchmark. He’s obviously established himself as a great driver in F1, and I’m sure I’ll be able to learn a lot from him.” Piastri and Norris will get their first real taste of the newly-launched MCL60 during pre-season testing at the Bahrain International Circuit from February 23-25. via Formula 1 News https://www.formula1.com

[noiselessmusic]

Descoberta da Semana: almost monday

A nossa descoberta da semana éo som do trio americano da Califórnia, almost monday. Composto pelos amigos de longa data Dawson Daughterty e Luke Fabry, e através do surfe, Dawson conectou com Cole Clisby. Fazendo um som mesclando indie e pop, e com influências californianas presentes, a banda faz um som pra cima e dançante- que levou a certo destaque na pandemia de 2020. Com dois EPs no…