#not saying he's underappreciated by you guys

[chewysgummies]

Weird to think that I almost scrapped Silent Gaze until I thought about him again and how much I genuinely think he's underappreciated.

[basofy]

ive never talked about their dynamic but this is one of the many thoughts i have about them

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

omg congrats for 5k doll! i wanted to slide in and see if i could have a protective!bf Gaz written since my baby is so underappreciated??? i saw this tweet about the scene in mw where gaz's disabling a bomb and is unable to and price throws the guy off the balcony, but this time the bomb in strapped to his love and he's and he's struggling and sees price out of the corner of his eye and remembers what happens last time and panicks and goes all 'you won't do that to her'. just a thought, love all your work!

—Don't Look At Her

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [The bomb starts ticking down, rapidly firing to zero. Gaz won't let Price near you. Not after he'd remembered the Captain's actions when they'd first met.] ❞

"Gaz," your voice wavers, watching the rapidly working man and seeing his darting eyes—lit with panicked fervor. He doesn't answer, so you speak again. "Gaz!"

"No!" He barks, brown eyes instantly meeting yours. Lips pull in a right frown; there's a glint in his gaze that you'd never seen before—not in the many years you'd known him. Kyle's firm hands don't leave the wiring attached to your chest. The vest.

The bomb.

"No, Love," he grates out, immediately getting back to work as you try to keep your tears at bay, body jerking back and forth as your boyfriend pulls at the straps and bits. "Don't even say anything. You're going to fucking fine, you hear? It's going to be okay."

It was the product of bad intel, really. You'd been sent in without the proper know-how, leading to a scuffle where the butt of a gun had been slammed into your temple. When your eyes opened again, it was already too late.

Kneeling in the middle of a large office building, the glass of the windows shattered behind you, and the wind whips the back of your skull aggressively, you stare down at Gaz. Trying to form words on a tongue that won't cooperate.

"You need to run," you whisper out, resigning yourself as the rapid beeping increases. Your heart moves so fast you can't feel the skin of your chest anymore. "Kyle," pleading, you watch his jaw clench something fierce. "Listen to me—!"

"I'm not leaving you!" A sharp snap of a metal piece hits your ears, the piece of the vest clattering to the ground in a violent display of desperation. Gaz glances back up at you stubbornly; as if uncaring about the impending incineration only minutes away. "So you stop bloody talking like that, yeah? I'm not just giving up!"

The sides of your eyes dribble out rabid tears, lungs a mess of air and inhales that can't even be considered breathing anymore by how wheezy they sound.

How would it feel? Exploding into a patchwork of blood and fire—instantaneous, sure, but feeling Kyle's heat and his puffs of air; his fear, you can't imagine him dying like that. Not him.

"Look at me," Gaz pants, fingers pulling at cords in search of the one he needed to cut—unable to pinpoint it through the hack-job that had been done to your vest.

There was every color under the sun except fucking yellow. His teeth clench so tight they hurt his jaw, but he sends you quick glances as you shakily do as he says.

Brown eyes soften, and while the both of your hands shake, for a second there's a relief at the eye-contact. "Repeat it, Love."

You lick your lips and stammer, "y-you're not leaving."

Lips press firmly into yours, and you clench your eyes tight at the sensation, tiny sob breaking the contact.

"That's right." Gaz growls. "Not on my life."

Rapid footsteps race into the room, but before the Sergeant can reach for his weapon, the familiar call from the Captain echoes out.

"Friendly!" It's as if Gaz doesn't even register, still digging and fearfully looking at the timer.

50 seconds. 49. 48. 47...

"Sergeant," Price jogs over. You can barely find the inner strength to look up at him. "Sitrep."

Blue eyes dart from the vest to you and the Captain's serious face goes grim. His expression flashes with the inner workings of his mind, eyes narrowing and a grunt stuck under his lips.

"I have it," Gaz speaks quickly, and the words strike you as odd, though you don't comment. Price slid him a sharp look.

"Gaz—"

"Don't even look at her." Snarling like an animal, brown orbs are volatile enough to rend stone in two as they meet the older man's. You and John are rendered speechless, sharing a swift glance in shock like teenagers hearing their parents swear for the first time.

Kyle's eyes are wild, sweat slicking his brow. "Come fucking on!" He yells and your body is snapped forward as Gaz pries on the straps, having to steady yourself on the man's shoulders for support. Every muscle in his body is taunt; shaking with force.

Perhaps it was the memory that invaded his brain like a parasite that had made him snap at his superior like that—a stab to his fine tissue that digs all the way down his rail-straight spine.

Piccadilly Circus. Tanto building. Hostage with an explosive vest.

Kyle's fingers bleed as they peel back rough velcro, having ripped off his gloves to be nearer to you.

It all flashes past his mind in horrible increments, the past, but instead of a man—the hostage is you. And Price was burning his neck with a harsh stare once more.

He's going to throw her out the window, Kyle panics and you watch with the deadly realization of the situation. No. No, I won't let him. Not her.

"Garrick," Price says, voice deep. But he doesn't move. "You need to get your head back on."

"I've got it screwed on just right, Captain." Gaz grunts. "Trust me."

12 seconds. 11. 10. 9...

You stare at Gaz and memorize the make of his handsome face—the dates and the late nights speaking about the future sticking to your skin like leeches; sucking away every instance of love and happiness. His laugh. His brown eyes.

His smile.

Oh, you want to see your Love smile.

"Sergeant!" Price yells, moving forward to grapple onto Kyle's shoulder. "It's going off!"

Your boyfriend rips out of his hold, fists clenched and screaming.

"Get the fuck off of me! I can save her!" Your back hits the ground with a slap and a ragged gasp from your lips, the Brit straddling your hips in a desperate play to deactivate the bomb.

"Kyle," you look up at him, pleading. "You have to take cover, it's...it's okay. I love you, I need you to know that—"

"Bloody shut," eyes spark, locking on the bright color under the front of the vest. Gaz snaps a hand under the material and rips at it in a ruthless wrench of his arm. 2 seconds. There's a deafening snap of wire. "Up!"

The beeping stops and the world stills.

Your wide eyes can't stop crying as you stare up into brown eyes with astonishment; struggling to breathe. You can't tell if the building is vibrating or only you, but nothing seems to be able to focus as a wave crashes down on you; adrenaline still striking you.

Everything rings inside of your ears, pounding in your head.

Hands grasp the base of your jaw and lips descend to yours, tears slapping your skin from above in a wave of feral agony. Gaz stifles his sob on your mouth as you shake wildly, panting over your flesh.

Price gives off a large sigh from behind, standing straighter and turning his head.

Gaz's forehead connects with yours, but there are no words to be said—just the silent gazing and lingering fear of death. He won't let go of your cheeks, and, quivering, you go to grasp tightly at the sides of his arms.

With a shuddering breath, he closes his eyes and sags into you.

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

[piastrisun]

warming up to love.

pairings: franco colapinto + fem reader.

summary: beneath the falling snow, the warmth of a shared moment transforms a casual connection into something unforgettable.

genre: fluff.⠀word count: 3.6k.⠀ warning: none.

notes: i love writing long stuff about franco cause we know he’s a very talkative guy and would pull a before sunrise any day. this kinda made me wanna fall in love.

“oh, the weather outside is frightful / but the fire is so delightful / and since we've no place to go / let it snow.”

the christmas party hums with a mellow energy as the night winds down. it’s a familiar scene—mutual friends scattered across the house, the remnants of shared laughter echoing softly. you hadn’t planned to come this year; after all, these gatherings had long been a minefield of awkward encounters and unspoken wounds. your ex, the one who shattered your heart last christmas, always seemed to be at these parties, and the thought of facing him again was enough to make you steer clear.

but tonight is different. encouraged by a friend who insisted it would be ‘good for you,’ you found yourself here, hovering on the edges, nursing a glass of mulled wine by the fireplace. franco is here, too—franco, who has always been little more than a polite nod or a quick ‘hi.’ the two of you aren’t close, not even friends, really. yet as the evening stretches on, you find his presence more noticeable than usual, his laughter drawing glances from across the room.

most of the guests have either slipped away to spare rooms or are scattered in half-asleep clusters, the laughter and music now a faint echo in the house. you sit near the fireplace, nursing a mug of mulled wine, its spicy warmth a small comfort against the chill outside. the flickering flames cast golden light over the room, and you sink into the soft cushions of the couch, grateful for the moment of solitude.

until franco joins you.

you hear him before you see him, the faint sound of his footsteps against the hardwood floor. all evening, he’s been the centre of attention—his jokes landing perfectly, his energy magnetic, his laughter infectious. but now, as he lowers himself onto the couch beside you, he’s different. his movements are slower, deliberate, as though he’s shedding the playful bravado for something more genuine. he leans back, draping one arm casually over the backrest, close enough for you to feel his presence without it pressing on you.

“you’ve been sitting here for a while,” he says, his voice quieter than you expect, his accent rolling over the words with a natural charm. “thinking deep holiday thoughts?”

you glance at him, arching a brow, already on guard. “oh, you know, debating whether santa’s elves have a decent union.”

a grin spreads across his face, quick and easy. “they don’t,” he replies, leaning slightly toward you, his dark eyes sparkling in the firelight. “you can see it in their eyes—overworked, underpaid, stuck making toys for kids who’ll forget about them in five minutes.”

the corners of your mouth lift before you can stop yourself, the response catching you off guard. “exactly,” you say, meeting his gaze for a beat longer than you intended. “and don’t even get me started on rudolph. classic case of workplace exploitation.”

his laugh is rich, low, and unrestrained, and for a moment, it drowns out the crackle of the fire. “you’re good,” he says, his grin lingering. “sharp. i like that.”

you shrug, trying to deflect the sudden focus on you. “it’s just common sense. someone has to advocate for the underappreciated holiday workforce.”

his grin widens, but there’s a shift in his expression—something more curious, more intent. “so, do you always deflect with humour,” he asks, tilting his head slightly, “or is it just my lucky night?”

your lips part slightly, caught off guard by the unexpected turn in the conversation. “and do you always psychoanalyse women at christmas parties?” you shoot back, the edge in your tone softened by the playful smile tugging at your lips.

“only the ones who seem like they have really good stories to tell,” he replies smoothly, his voice dipping lower.

you roll your eyes, though you feel the laugh bubbling up despite yourself. “you’re persistent, i’ll give you that.”

“i’m argentinian,” he says with a light shrug, as though that explains everything. “it’s genetic.”

the absurdity of the statement makes you laugh, this time unrestrained and genuine. you shift in your seat, tucking your legs beneath you as you hold your mug close, needing the warmth against your palms. he adjusts as well, leaning forward now, resting his elbows on his knees. his gaze is steady, direct, and disarmingly sincere.

“you’re good at this, you know,” he says, his tone softer now, almost conversational.

“at what?” you ask, the question slipping out before you can stop it.

“deflecting,” he says simply, his eyes searching yours. “you tell a joke, flash a smile, and everyone forgets to ask the real questions.”

you shift uncomfortably, your grip tightening around the mug. “maybe i just don’t like questions,” you say, the words coming out more defensive than you intended.

“or maybe you don’t like answers,” he counters, his voice steady but without judgment.

the weight of his words settles over you, and you find yourself looking away, your gaze fixed on the fire. the orange glow feels safer than the intensity in his eyes.

“you’ve been hurt before,” he says, breaking the silence.

“haven’t we all?” you reply quickly, your tone sharper now, a reflex to protect yourself.

“sure,” he agrees, his voice calm, unbothered by your resistance. “but not everyone builds walls like you do.”

your shoulders tense, and you draw back slightly, the heat of the fire no longer comforting. “you don’t know me well enough to say that,” you reply, your voice quieter now, but firm.

“not yet,” he says, the gentleness in his tone catching you off guard. “but i’d like to.”

the vulnerability in his voice chips away at your defences, and for a moment, you exhale, leaning back into the couch. you’re silent, but the tension in your posture eases.

“it’s not that simple,” you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “people think you can just… open up and everything will be fine. but when you’ve given your heart to someone who didn’t want it, it’s hard to trust anyone with it again.”

his dark eyes don’t waver, his gaze steady but soft, and he nods slowly. “i get that,” he says. “but maybe the trick isn’t trusting someone else first. maybe it’s trusting yourself—that you’ll survive it if things don’t go the way you hope.”

✩

the flickering firelight dances across his face, softening his features, and his expression is open, patient, unhurried.

“you’re different than i thought you’d be,” he says after a long pause, his voice dropping lower.

“what did you think i’d be like?” you ask, curious despite yourself.

“i don’t know,” he says, his lips curving into a faint smile. “polished, untouchable, the kind of person who always has the upper hand.”

“and now?” you press, leaning in slightly, the space between you shrinking.

“still intimidating,” he admits, his smile widening just enough to make your heart skip. “but in a good way.”

for the first time, you let the moment linger, the tension between you shifting into something unspoken but undeniable.

the fire casts a warm glow over the room, its crackling filling the quiet pauses between words. you laugh, shaking your head, the sound light but genuine. a comfortable silence stretches between you and franco, and in that quiet, you feel it—a subtle but undeniable pull. it’s unspoken, yet it lingers, drawing you closer to him in a way that feels both surprising and inevitable.

“you’re not what i expected, either,” you say, your tone casual, though the words carry weight.

franco leans forward slightly, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “oh? what did you expect?”

your lips curl into a teasing smile. “someone who tries too hard to be funny. but you’re just… effortlessly annoying.”

his laughter bursts out, rich and warm, and he clutches his chest dramatically. “effortlessly annoying? that might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

you shake your head, your smile widening despite yourself. you can feel your guard slipping, piece by piece, the edges softening with every laugh, every shared glance.

✩

as the night drifts on, the conversation flows like an easy current, touching on favourite movies, childhood christmas memories, and absurd holiday traditions. you trade stories that are ridiculous and endearing, the kind that make your sides ache from laughter. each word exchanged deepens the connection between you, weaving a thread of familiarity where there was none before.

he leans back, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “you know, this has to be the best christmas conversation i’ve ever had. no offence to santa and the elves.”

you raise your brow, feigning seriousness. “i’ll take it as a compliment. i don’t usually do this, you know.”

he tilts his head, curiosity dancing in his expression. “what? talk to effortlessly annoying guys?”

“no,” you reply with a soft laugh. “sit here, opening up to someone i just met. it’s… different.”

the teasing fades from his face as he leans in slightly, his voice dropping to something quieter, more intent. “different good or different bad?”

you meet his gaze, your heart beating a little faster at the intensity in his eyes. “good,” you say softly. “definitely good.”

the fire crackles softly in the background, the rhythmic pops and hisses filling the spaces between breaths. your laughter, which had moments ago echoed brightly, now fades into something quieter, something deeper. the silence between you isn’t awkward—it’s laced with a gentle understanding that neither of you has to name. you feel it—a warmth spreading through you, unfamiliar yet comforting, like an old song you’ve almost forgotten but still know by heart. it’s a feeling you haven’t let yourself embrace in years.

franco shifts slightly beside you, leaning forward as if to close the distance without intruding. his voice cuts through the quiet, warm and deliberate. “for the record,” he says, his lips curving into a faint, teasing smile, “you’re pretty good at this too.”

you glance at him, your brow lifting in subtle curiosity. “at what?”

his eyes linger on yours, the firelight flickering in their depths. he doesn’t hesitate, his tone softer now, almost confessional. “making me want to stay up all night talking to you.”

the words land heavier than you expect, and for a moment, your heart stumbles, a traitorous skip in its rhythm. you’re certain he notices, but for once, you don’t try to hide it.

your grip loosens slightly on your glass of wine, and you exhale, caught between disbelief and something dangerously close to hope. the vulnerability in his words disarms you, but it’s the sincerity in his gaze that keeps you still, like he’s waiting, patiently, to see if you’ll let him stay.

✩

you stand near the balcony door, the hum of the christmas party a soft murmur inside. outside, the chill air brushes your skin, the twinkling lights from the decorations contrasting with the warmth of the fire crackling in the corner. your glass of wine rests in your hand, swirling gently, the dark liquid catching the firelight. you find yourself momentarily lost in the way the flames dance, tracing their movement, letting the quiet settle over you.

franco is standing beside you, so close now that his knee almost brushes against yours, but neither of you says anything. it's the first time tonight that the two of you have actually been alone, outside the usual nods and polite greetings you’ve exchanged over the years.

after a beat, he breaks the silence, his voice low but steady, like he’s testing the air between you.

“you know,” he begins, glancing toward you but keeping his gaze just slightly above yours, “i used to think love was supposed to be this big, dramatic thing. like fireworks and grand gestures.”

you raise an eyebrow, the corners of your mouth curling into a smirk as you shift your weight, the wine glass still twirling in your hand. “let me guess—movies and cheesy romance novels ruined you?”

franco laughs, the sound soft but amused, and you can hear the humour in his voice when he responds. “hey, i’m a romantic. sue me.”

you chuckle, the ease of his words making you relax, but there’s something in his tone that lingers. the idea of love as a grand, sweeping event feels familiar, even if it's been a long time since you've believed in it. the pause between the two of you stretches a little longer, the silence pulling at the edges of your thoughts, and you finally turn to him, looking at him fully for the first time tonight.

“and now?” you ask quietly, your voice catching the reflection of the fire in his eyes. “what do you think it’s supposed to be?”

he looks at you, really looks at you this time, and there's something about the way he shifts, the way he leans slightly forward, that makes his words hit you harder than you expect. his eyes are steady, but his voice is softer now, more introspective.

“i think it’s quieter,” he says, his tone almost reverent, like he's sharing a truth he's only just realised. “more like… finding someone who makes you feel like you’re home, no matter where you are.”

the words settle heavily in the space between you. you blink, your breath momentarily stuck in your chest. there's something in his expression, something real and raw, and it pulls you in. you turn your body slightly towards him, the firelight flickering off his face, and you can feel the weight of his honesty pressing into your own guarded heart.

“that’s nice," you say, almost whispering, but a knot tightens in your throat. you shift your gaze, struggling to maintain the usual lightness, but it’s hard now. "but what if you’ve been hurt? what if 'home' feels more like a risk than a refuge?”

franco doesn’t hesitate. his elbows drop to his knees, the movement slow and deliberate. he leans in just slightly, his shoulders squared toward you, and the teasing edge that usually follows him is gone, replaced by something quieter, more vulnerable.

“then maybe you stop looking for a perfect home,” he responds, voice steady, each word measured. “maybe you find someone who’s willing to build it with you, one piece at a time. even if it’s messy.”

the simplicity of his answer leaves you breathless for a second. you swallow, feeling something shift within you, like a door cracking open just a little wider. his words hang in the air, and despite yourself, you can’t help but feel the weight of them settle into your chest. it’s a thought you’ve buried for a long time, and you feel a flicker of warmth in the cold air around you.

“you make it sound so simple,” you say, a soft laugh escaping you, though your voice is quieter now, more fragile.

his lips twitch into a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes right away. he glances at you, his gaze lingering before he answers. “it’s not. but i think the right person makes it worth the mess.”

you exhale, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly, though his words have left something unspoken between you. the weight of the conversation feels too heavy to hold onto for much longer, so you try to shift the mood. you take a deep breath and let the faintest hint of a smile curve your lips.

“okay, mr. romantic,” you tease, your voice a little lighter now. “what’s your other grand passion? what keeps you up at night?”

franco grins, the teasing spark returning to his eyes. “besides annoy people by fireplaces?”

you laugh, shaking your head at him, but there’s something different in the way you look at him now, something softer in your gaze. you catch the slight change in his expression, the way his eyes soften, even if only for a fraction of a second, as he watches you.

“i like cooking, actually,” he says, a genuine warmth to his voice. he leans back slightly, the tension leaving his shoulders as he talks. “there’s something about making a meal for someone—putting care into every detail, knowing it’s going to bring them joy.”

you raise an eyebrow, amusement creeping back into your features, but there’s a spark of curiosity now, too. “cooking, huh? sounds like an elaborate way to flirt.”

franco’s grin widens, and you notice the way his eyes twinkle with mischief. “absolutely. works every time.”

you lean back, finally allowing a full smile to spread across your face. it feels natural, comfortable, the awkward tension of the night slipping away with the shared laughter, but something lingers—a connection that wasn’t there before. the warmth of the fire and the quiet rhythm of your conversation are the only things that matter now.

you lean back, your body sinking slightly into the chair, the chill of the balcony air brushing against your skin. the soft hum of the christmas party drifts in from the room behind you, but here, the cold night air feels refreshing, clearing the noise in your head. your smile lingers, and you can’t help but feel a change in the air. the distance between you and franco now feels different—closer, more intimate.

“i like that,” you say, your voice calm but thoughtful. “the way you think about it, i mean. cooking for someone. it’s... intimate.”

franco shifts in his seat, leaning forward slightly, his gaze focused on you. “what about you?” he asks, his voice soft, genuinely curious. “what’s the thing that makes your heart beat a little faster?”

you hesitate for a moment, the chill in the air suddenly making you feel a little warmer under his gaze. his openness makes you feel safe enough to share, and without thinking, the words tumble out of you.

“i write,” you say, your voice quiet, almost wistful. “or i used to, before life got in the way. it’s like... the only time i’ve ever felt completely free.”

his expression softens, his gaze gentle as he watches you, and for a brief moment, the world around you seems to fade. he looks like he understands the weight of your words. "why’d you stop?” he asks, his voice low, quiet with concern.

you shrug, avoiding his gaze, not wanting to face the vulnerability in your own eyes. “fear, maybe,” you reply, the words hanging heavily between you. “that i wasn’t good enough. that it wasn’t practical.”

“fear’s a bad reason to stop doing something you love,”he responds, his tone firm but gentle, almost as though he’s speaking to himself as much as to you.

the silence lingers in the space between you, and the cool night air feels heavier, somehow more present. you feel the weight of his words settle in your chest, your breath catching slightly as you meet his gaze. the snow falls gently, glowing faintly in the moonlight. the world feels suspended, quiet, and for a moment, it’s just the two of you in this stillness, and nothing else matters. there’s a sincerity in his eyes that pulls you in deeper, something you can’t quite explain.

“you should writing again,” he adds, his voice softer now, almost like a quiet plea. “you’re too passionate to keep it all locked inside.”

you swallow, the idea of writing again making something stir in your chest. but you don’t let it show, instead trying to keep the mood light. “and you should stop psychoanalysing strangers at christmas parties,” you tease, a small smile tugging at your lips.

he grins, a playful glint in his eyes, but there’s a shift. his gaze softens, and the playful atmosphere between you both changes. “maybe i’ll make it my new year’s resolution,” he says with a teasing tone, but there’s something deeper in his voice now. “right after ‘kiss beautiful smart women by fireplaces.’”

you laugh, a warm, genuine sound that seems to break the tension between you. but when your eyes meet again, the air is different. the laughter fades, replaced by a quiet understanding that neither of you can ignore. there’s a pull, something magnetic. his smile fades into something deeper, and you feel it too—a tension you haven’t felt in years.

“can i?” his voice is soft, his eyes searching yours, and you feel a warmth spreading through you that makes your heart race.

you nod, your throat tight, unable to say anything. but your silence speaks volumes, and it’s enough. he gives you every opportunity to pull away, but you don’t. you stay, rooted to the spot, as his lips hover just inches from yours, your heart pounding in your chest as he inches closer.

the kiss comes softly at first, tentative, almost as though he’s testing the waters, unsure of the fragility of the moment. but then, something shifts. the warmth between you builds, and the kiss deepens, both of you leaning into it, the connection effortless. it’s like you’ve both been waiting for this, and now that it’s here, it feels as though nothing else matters—just the two of you, wrapped in the glow of the lights and the quiet of the night. you both lean into it, your bodies moving as if they’ve known how to do this all along. it feels natural, easy, like the conversation you’ve had all night.

when you finally pull back, you’re both breathless, your cheeks flushed with warmth. franco’s smile is softer now, more intimate, and it makes your heart flutter.

“you’re a hard one to read, you know that?” he says, a hint of amusement in his voice, though his eyes are still searching yours.

you shake your head, the smile lingering on your lips. “and you’re impossible to ignore.”

the soft crackle of the fire still echoes from the living room, and the snow falls gently on your coat, glowing faintly in the moonlight. but here, on the balcony, it’s just the two of you. for the first time in a year, you feel something stir within you—a piece of yourself that you thought was lost. and in that moment, you allow yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, you’ve found it again

©⠀piastrisun original work. please don’t translate, claim or repost any of my writing, 24’.

[shallowseeker]

Dean is a lot of things, but super transparent and open isn't one of them. You're contributing to a trendy rewrite of Dean and influencing fandom in ways that just don't reflect what we see on screen.

I get where you’re coming from—Dean isn’t always the most emotionally transparent guy on the surface, and his wariness is definitely a big part of his character. That said, I personally think Dean’s performance of toughness/gruffness pulls the wool over some viewers’ eyes. Dean’s time in Hell, in particular, made him more protective of his vulnerabilities, adding to the tougher exterior he develops over time. It’s not that I don’t think Dean isn't guarded; he absolutely is. But I think he’s far more open than some parts of fandom paint him, and even more open than he sometimes portrays himself. Dean chooses to be selective about who he shows his vulnerabilities to, which is a consistent part of his character.

It's also important to acknowledge those times he’s been open only to get shut down (ahem, especially in Season 7, by Sam, Bobby, and Eliot Ness). I think his close family members are terrified that his grief will lead to his death during a hunt, so they balk at it, encouraging him to lock his emotions down tight.

///

Of note, I think Mary struggles with a similar issue. She says, “I know I can be cold,” yet she’s often incredibly honest about her actual emotions. In fact, Mary is one of the first characters to answer honestly when people ask if she’s okay: “No.” (Dean will in fact mirror her example in 13x06). I even think her “I love you” during her would-be death scene with Billie in 12x09 inspires moments like Cas’s “I love you—I love all of you” during the fight with Ramiel in 12x12.

Like Dean, Mary downplays her own emotional intelligence and her own keenness to both read and reach out to others. All in all, I think these two are far more emotionally generous and intuitive than they give themselves credit for, even if they struggle to acknowledge or articulate it when they get too overwhelmed.

As for what we see on screen... For the record, I like to think that I do a decent job of referencing specific moments in the script or episode when I talk about Dean's emotions or openness. Even if you don't interpret things as I do, I hope you can see my perspective.

/// Just as a point of contrast, I don’t think Sam is as emotionally intuitive as he’s often credited to be, and I think sometimes even Dean gives Sam too much credit. We see this particularly in Don’t You Forget About Me, where Dean instinctively builds rapport with Jody, empathizing with her and even pitching in to help with the dishes as they commiserate over their girls’ behavioral problems. Interestingly, this rears its head again in Ladies Drink Free, with Sam's intellectualizing of emotions being a point of contention.

Dean’s ability to both read people and connect emotionally often goes underappreciated, even by himself.

///

Bonus: I actually think Cas is also far more emotionally intuitive than he gives himself credit for, even with the billions of years of suppress-or-die under his belt. Cas often deploys a distinctly reciprocal style of communication, revealing a personal failing or emotion to encourage others to open up about their own failings. We see it with the original "I'm not a hammer / I have doubts" scene with Dean, we see it in a big way with Jack in Tombstone, and interestingly, we even see it with the news anchor here.

[sandraharissa]

So I never wondered before what happened between Vander and Silco cos I had faith in the writers (my bad) and cos realistically it would require several professional writers to figure this out. I can't come up with a whole scenario, smth that should have been probs a whole episode or many flashbacks to the first revolution to parallel and give context for the second revolution. but since they dropped the whole revolution plotline there was no point in that ig. Now I'm not coming up with a whole plot for s2 to make it connect to a whole plot for the Silco and Vander backstory. I'll just talk about general things when it comes to

How I would do the Vander and Silco backstory:

Silco and Vander meet as young adults, probs in the mines.

Silco is a wide-eyed idealist, he's small and weak making it hard for him to survive from day to day but it's not important to his character (no insecurities, his character is not about that). He cares about and crafts his idea of an independent nation of Zaun. We're meeting a way 'better' version of Silco but he still has all his traits like being a bit of a diva and pettiness and pride and such.

Vander is capable and the 'get shit done' guy. He feels the need to use his strength to protect others. He has a strong sense of justice and fairness. He has anger issues too tho.

Vander uses his strength to protect Silco and so Silco feels safe with him but Vander also has violent tendencies and anger issues. There should probs be some instances where the possibility of Vander being violent with Silco is hinted at.

A la Powder's bombs or Mylo's lock-picking skills no one puts much value on Silco's ideas, everybody immensely respects Vander and his brute strength tho. It's the commonly lived by in the Undercity 'survival of the fittest' vs Silco's silly 'Undercity, united as one'.

Vander loves the idea tho and is Silco's first and biggest fan lol.

They start doing their thing together. At some point they build the Lanes and the Last Drop together.

Silco as a co-leader gets to do his thing, planning the nation and writing in his notebook and such, he's more of a planning guy, not the best in the field. He gets to do his thing but ppl really look up to Vander, with a lot of them not understanding the concept that they should have a shared national identity etc. but they do understand resisting their oppressors and Vander can lead them by example. Ppl admire him cos he rescues ppl and does justice and can kill an enforcer with one punch. Silco also likes that about him. He's the one to take direct action and is more of the pushing force of the revolution. He's like 'bro Zaun sounds amazing and what's stopping us from rounding up our friends and taking out this patrol on the corner? right now?' at Silco. Silco's 'brothers and sisters' beliefs low-key inform the attitude of the rebels even if they still don't get Zaun. He's also the one making all the smart decisions like creating a black market but he's underappreciated for it cos ppl don't directly see the connection between stuff like his scheming/business talents, the Lanes and the living situation getting better. (you could say Vander and Silco were the violence and ideology that make up a revolutionary movement).

As the revolution continues Vander was insistent that they need to push more, that's his mentality cos he was always more capable than others. With Silco being more logical and pragmatic. The stress isn't getting so much to Silco but it is to Vander. What got to Vander was that if he's the one pushing and ppl die bcos of it then it's on his hands and he can't stand it. Especially that it's probs partially self-indulgent. He gets to blow off steam and has an outlet for his violent tendencies. He is not making the best decisions, they are somewhat self-serving and on some level he knows this. Pressure to succeed and get results fast and guilt is getting to him.

Then they're on a mission that's gotta have them both doing different things but somehow connected to the bridge.

Silco and his team, or even bystanders, get caught/get in trouble. Silco starts spouting poetics at enforcers and bcos he pissed them off they decide to arrest everyone (so that's probs a one way ticket) but ppl did get inspired which causes more scuffling, probs ppl die, the situation gets worse but it allows ppl to let Silco escape/hide/he gets knocked out. Vander finds him and they escape via river, they jump from the bridge or from the docks, going further and further away from the shore and the enforcers and they start talking about what happened.

For context Vander and Silco's attitudes are opposite to each other at any time, and they also switch from what they were originally to what they become post their character development moments (betrayal and bridge massacre), they're narrative foils after all. One is at the core selfish and violent and the other is altruistic and for the good of everybody bcos of their lofty ideals. So Vander in his violent era at the end of the day cares about himself and ppl around him and keeping them (like Silco in s1 with Jinx when push comes to shove).

Vander is angry that Silco 'prioritized some "Zaun" over their ppl', starts criticizing his ideology and his ineffectiveness but Silco saw his approach working and decides he should try by himself again, like he did before Vander, with the focus on the whole business enterprise and such, now that it turned out in the last few years that he's good at it. He points out Vander's overly violent tendencies. So they're pissed and stressed cos of the situation, pressure gets to Vander and he feels responsible for every loss that happened. He feels responsible for Silco. If he failed then Vander failed. Then it escalates when it becomes more personal, they start being petty and criticizing each other. Vander stands to lose his most important connection. He feels rejected. Maybe Vander physically prevents Silco from leaving. They start struggling, things escalate, instead of letting Silco go Vander lashes out. And then Vander punches him, gives him the black eye (plus maybe chips his front teeth) and then in the heat of the moment starts drowning him.

Afterwards Vander blames it all on Silco, paints him as worse than what happened. It's easier cos his emotions tell him Silco somehow wronged him (hence the 'you animal' reputation, cos ppl could view it, especially if that's how Vander presented it, as Silco doing that whole thing intentionally, sacrificing his ppl to get a thing done and escaping himself). Vander projects his blame and guilt onto Silco, after years of leading by himself he mellows out and realizes Silco was not at fault but it's years into the cope/lie. He can't do better by himself and his straightforward violent methods don't work well enough for him to be worth it anymore. The bridge massacre is the last straw. Meanwhile Silco learns to be violent on top of being driven by ideology (but also he's not trying to convince anyone anymore of his ideas cos it didn't work the last time, he doesn't preach to anyone in s1 but Jinx).

Add somewhere in there a comment from Vander to Silco about pretty eyes for zaundads and dramatic irony reasons.

[yinora-evergreen]

Could you do a Dead Boy Detectives Cat King x reader Payne, Edwin’s sibling who is a ghost after a freak accident and helps them out. They always put the boys needs above their own. After the first Cat King meeting they get a little jealous of their brother but they know it’s wrong. Of course Monty and the others would like Edwin.

Pairing: Thomas "the Cat King" x gn! ghost! Payne! reader, mild implied Monty x reader if you squint, Edwin Payne x sibling! reader

a/n: tysm for this request! i hope it is to your liking and i hope it's not too ooc<3

warnings: jealous reader, it's implied that reader could be interested in Monty, Charles and Crystal [Cat King talks about which form he should take, inspired by the scene in the show when he turns into Monty and Charles to try and seduce Edwin], i wasn't sure whether these warnings were necesarry but i added them anyway just incase

You had been part of the dead boy detectives agency for a while, ever since you had found your brother Edwin again, you stayed by his side, and ofcourse Charles's too.

you aways helped out, kept them safe the best you could. even when you weren't in a state to do so.

there were uncountable times when you took the hit instead of them, physically and mentally.

you helped calm down ghosts who were lost, helped along with cases to make sure everything went according to plan, steped infront of them if someone tried to attack with an iron weapon, no matter how bad it hurt.

ofcourse, Edwin greatly appreciated it, and yet somehow you feel underappreciated.

they never changed the name, even though you joined, they were the ones people, well, ghosts looked for.

it was always "where are the two boys we were told about" and never "aren't you one of the dead boy detectives?"

when Crystal joined, she didn't seem very fond of you at first, which you honestly didn't mind too much.

could you blame her? she got her memories stolen by her demon ex and now she has no idea where she's supposed to be, where her home is.

when the four of you went to Port Townsend you thought little of it.

it was just one quick little case, right?

wrong.

because of your brother Edwin using a simple spell on a cat that you guys got stuck here.

when you first met the Cat King, you were intrigued to say the least.

maybe it was his way of talking, maybe it was those eyes that captivated you, whatever it was, you felt drawn to him.

but ofcourse, he only looked at your brother.

was it normal to feel jealous like that? you love your brother dearly, you shouldn't want to take something like that from him, right?

right?

when you met Monty, you thought he was pretty cute.

not your exact type, but cute.

but ofcourse, yet again, Edwin was the star of the show.

eventually Monty wanted to hang out with you too, but it was after the third time of him asking to hang out that you found out the only true reason was so he would have an excuse to see Edwin when walking you 'home', which really pissed you off.

so you left, mumbling something about just wanting to take a walk alone for a moment.

much to your luck, they accepted it without another thought.

as you walk, you can't help but notice the amount of cats you see everywhere.

Edwin was supposed to count them all, right?

maybe you could help by counting aswell, and telling Edwin later on how many you saw.

but you were too upset to really do that, so you just kept walking.

until you notice that one of the cats seems to be following you, no matter how many times you turn a corner, or stop for a moment, it seemed to follow your every move.

up untill a specific part, near the woods.

you thought it finally stopped following you, untill you turned around to see none other than the Cat King standing there.

that startled you, for some reason you didn't exactly expect it, and you nearly tripped if he didn't catch you.

"why are you here? why did you follow me?" you instantly question him, which seems to surprise him atleast a little.

"woah, calm down, i wasn't following you, i was just... taking a stroll... okay no i was totally following you" he admits.

"has Edwin counted all the cats yet?" you roll your eyes.

"no, obviously not, he would've gone to find you if he did" you cross your arms and look away from him.

why did he have to look so charming?

you thought he'd leave, but he didn't.

why was he still staring at you?

"you know, i only pay so much attention to him because of his spell on one of my dear cats, you should remember that"

"why would i care who you give your stupid attention to" you practically snarl, though he doesn't seem to be bothered by your tone.

"now, now, no need to feel so attacked. i just want to know, what is it that has gotten you in such a sour mood" he nearly sounds like he cares.

nearly.

"nothing, i just wanted to take a walk" you lie, hoping he'd just leave you alone.

"right, lets try that again, hm?"

he swipes his thumb over your mouth, and much to your surprise you spill everything that you've been keeping quiet about.

"it's just that, i really do love my brother, truly, but sometimes i wish he wouldn't be the one getting all the attention, like, you gave him all your attention back when you wanted to punish him for his 'crime' and Monty only wanted to hang out with me to get closer to him and i just wish that for once, just once, someone i'm interested in would actually see me too. Edwin and Charles, now Crystal too, always get so much credit for solving cases too, and yet i'm the one that keeps getting hurt, that keeps being the target, i always put them above me and ofcourse i'm not greedy about getting attention or gratefullness but does it really hurt that much to ask if i'm okay? if i'm okay with being the bait when it's necesarry? if i'm okay with being ready to face death and go to the afterlife so she'll leave them alone? is it too much to ask for just a little care that's more than just some simple praise?" you ramble on for a bit, barely noticing the small, sypathetic smile on his face.

"now, now, darling, that is quite a lot of emotion, huh?"

"oh fuck off" you snap back, the tingling feeling of the spell he used to make you tell him fading as quick as it came.

"i see you, i have for a while" he admits.

"do you have any idea how hard it is to focus on being intimidating and giving your brother his punishment for using a spell against one of my cats when you're right next to him, all pretty and enticing" he drawls out as if he's a kid who's throwing a tantrum about not getting icecream.

"i mean seriously, have you seen yourself?"

"not exactly, i don't have a reflection as a ghost" you mumble, trying to ignore the growing heat on your cheeks.

he rolls his eyes.

"tell me, what form should i take to entice you to... stay with me, atleast for the night? Monty? Charles? Crystal? i can be whoever you want me to be, my dear [name]" he says as he takes the respective forms of each person he lists, and you notice how even though he practically shape-shifts, one thing always stays the same: those eyes you've grown to love.

"just be you" you murmur, daring to take a step closer to him, to which he subtly licks his lips.

it seems as though he's about to say something, but then he kisses you instead, taking a hold on your waist, he seems to be more gentle than you expected, and you kiss him back.

if someone told you that this kiss lasted for hours, you would've believed them.

it felt as if you got that peacefull after-life that you were promised, without ever leaving behind those you care about.

reluctantly, you both pull away.

"can i stay with you tonight, then?" you mutter quietly.

the Cat King nods, taking your hand, ready to lead you to his abode.

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

[pikatrainer99]

Let's talk about Barry for a minute.

This boy is so underappreciated and gets way too much hate just for being ADHD incarnate (or as the haters say, "his hyperactive squirrel brain"). The haters also don't recognize that Barry actually has a character arc in the games. He learns the importance of slowing down throughout his journey, especially after his loss to Jupiter at Lake Acuity. He had been one step ahead of the player the whole game, but this loss actually makes him stop and think things through for a bit, deciding to take his time and train up more. As a result, the player is the one to get the last Gym Badge and make it to the League first. Also, let's not forget that Barry had the patience (and probably hyperfocus) to get a MUNCHLAX and a HERACROSS from the honey trees...y'know, the two RAREST honey tree Pokémon...? Yeah...that takes PATIENCE. Even I don't have the patience for that...but I'm also a very impatient person myself (I blame my parents, who are also impatient, for passing it on to me and my brothers), my "now now now" attitude has driven my family crazy millions of times by now, but I digress.

Something else that's important to mention is Barry's personality (other than his ADHD traits, that is). This kid is a genuinely good guy. He's the player's best friend and that doesn't stop when he becomes the player's rival. He gives the player tips, he doesn't look down on the player or bully them, he's always excited to see them whenever they cross his path, is genuinely happy for them when they get their last Gym Badge and says he won't be far behind, etc. Barry also genuinely loves Pokémon, they are his friends, not tools for battle. He gets angry when around Team Galactic because of how they treat Pokémon, he went into empathy overdrive for Uxie's suffering after losing to Jupiter at Lake Acuity, etc. And he gets excited and happy when around people who love Pokémon as much as he does, like the player and Gym Leaders, for example. Barry also NEVER gives up, which is definitely a great character trait, especially for a rival character. He's set on his goal and nothing can pull him away from it, not even multiple losses to the player. It makes me feel less bad about beating him because I know he's just gonna bounce back each time and try again. That's just how Barry is and he's my favorite friendly rival because of it. I never feel like I'm crushing his dreams like I do with Hop, for example. Instead I'm making him stronger, both in resolve, and as a Trainer.

That doesn't mean that he doesn't have a sad side to him though...because he does. He has daddy issues, BIG TIME. This kid's whole motivation is to get strong enough to challenge and defeat his dad, Tower Tycoon Palmer. He wants to be acknowledged by his dad SO BADLY that in Pokémon Masters he straight-up TELLS YOU that the reason he keeps fining people is because he wants to use the fines he collects to build his own Battle Tower because, in his mind, that's the way to get acknowledgement from his dad. But no one ever takes him seriously (most likely because of how often he does this, how much money he asks for, and also the fact that he's a CHILD), so he never gets any money. I'll be honest, my heart broke for this poor kid during that conversation. I used to think that Barry's "I'm fining you 10 million Pokédollars!" was just his way of expressing annoyance or even just a verbal tic of sorts...but in Masters it's revealed that he's dead serious when he says those things, all because he's so desperate for his dad's approval that he wants to make him proud by building and running his own Battle Tower. Again, he's a CHILD! That shouldn't be any child's goal, especially not for something all kids deserve, which is parent approval! As someone who is ALSO constantly seeking my own dad's approval, this conversation hit home for me. My dad doesn't really approve of anything I'm interested in or anything I do, he wants me to be someone else entirely...but I can't be who he wants me to be, I can't be who ANYONE in this world wants me to be...I can only be myself and I want to make my dad proud just by being me...

The Pokémon Evolutions episode "The Rival" is ALL ABOUT Barry's daddy issues. Everything he does and says in that episode is all about getting strong enough to challenge his dad. He's able to beat him in the end, finally getting the acknowledgement he deserves (he would still deserve it even if he didn't win, or even get to challenge him, let's be clear). So it's a happy ending there, but in the gameverse that's not a clear-cut thing that happens, so we never know if he even does get to face his dad. He shows up in the Fight Area on weekends to battle the player but that's really it as far as I'm aware. In the games, Barry also admires Crasher Wake and wants him to take him under his wing and mentor him, but Wake refuses, which honestly makes me angry since Barry clearly wants (and needs) a father figure in his life since Palmer is absent all the time. At least in the manga Wake does train Pearl, so there is ONE Pokémon universe where Wake mentors the kid...buuuuut he should've done it in the games too, just sayin'.

So yeah, that's basically my ramble on Barry. Honestly this wasn't planned or anything, I just out of nowhere started thinking about Barry and how hated he is, and impulsively wrote this whole entire essay without scripting it out beforehand so this might be a bit hard to follow 😅. But I just love this kid and I don't understand the hate he gets, so he deserves an appreciation post in my opinion...so this is the post! Let me know what you think down below!

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖Make it Stick: Pt. 1 The Dragon

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Mature

Pairing: Bucky x ofc x Steve

Word Count: 1103

Tags: dark!fic, mob/mafia au, mob!Bucky, mob!Steve, dubcon/noncon, sexual coercion, half-sibling incest, m/f/m, non-con drug use, mentions of torture (non graphic), double penetration, forced tattooing, forced orgasms, enemies to lovers

Summary: When his babygirl—his sweet pea, little one, puppy ... half-sister—is recaptured after her latest attempt at running away, Bucky makes a power play in front of the entire Bratva to remind her exactly who she belongs to.

Dark and smutty content below the break. Consume responsibly.

“Да. Good. Make sure she stays that way. Now, tell me everything.” Bucky listens to his henchman’s answer, pissed in general but only getting truly angry when he hears one specific detail. “She was with who?! Ублюдок!!” He takes the phone away from his face for a second as he curses in three different languages. Fucking Gleb. He fucking knew it. He’s going to cut his fucking dick off! When he brings the phone back up to his face, all he utters is a deathly quiet, “We’re in the Dragon’s Den. Get them here. Both of them.” He ends the call.

The gun at Bucky’s back has stopped buzzing. Funny, how it’s the sudden lack of pain that makes goosebumps rise to his skin. “Boss?” Natasha asks.

Bucky’s eyes flick over to Steve, who’s sitting next to the Karpovs on the couch. One moment of intense eye contact between the two of them, and Steve’s face goes wan in recognition. Tight-lipped, Bucky gives an almost imperceptible nod of confirmation. Steve squares his shoulders and pushes up to standing to go over to the bar. The guy has an almost preternatural ability to predict Bucky’s wants and needs, which is one reason why he’s risen through the ranks so fast (well, it's one, leastways). He artfully flips a lowball, knowing what this situation calls for without having to be told; ice and two fingers of the Russo-Baltique that’s so expensive, Bucky once stabbed a guy’s hand into a table for drinking it without permission.

Steve delivers the glass and retreats to stand sentinel along the wall. Bucky sips, sets it down, growls and grabs it up again. He rolls the liquor in his mouth as he fumes, a dark plan starting to form in his head. It comes together quickly, because it’s not like he hasn’t spent plenty of time fantasizing about it before now. What he’d do when he finally got her back.

His little one is tenacious and likes to make trouble. She has a penchant for running away, but she’s never lasted this long before. It’s been over ten months—long enough to put the fear of God in Bucky that he could actually lose her for good, if he isn’t more careful. So, he has to be careful, has to make a statement, send a message. He has to make it stick.

Luckily, when it comes to “sending messages,” Bucky Barnes can be very creative. Like tattooing, torture is an oft underappreciated artform. “Dimi,” he barks. “I’m expecting some special guests tonight. Go and sort things out downstairs. I want the place packed by ten—Make sure it’s with the right people.”

“Boss?” Lev pipes up, confused. He’s Karpov’s kid brother: new, inexperienced but eager, still “earning his scales,” as the boys like to say.

Dimitri jerks his head for his brother to follow him. “Boss wants a demonstration. C’mon.” He’s already got his phone out as they leave the room to get things arranged. Bucky’s “demonstrations” usually require plastic sheeting and a crowd of people who are either Hydra themselves, or else educated enough to know to keep their mouths shut about Bratva business.

“Where’d they find her?” Steve asks.

Bucky scoffs, still fuming. “Floating off the coast of Belize. On my own fucking yacht. Can you even believe that?”

“Sounds like her.”

“Lena?” Nat hums. “Who’d you send?”

“Maximoff and Belova have her.” Bucky grits his teeth at the sting as Natasha uses a wet cloth to wipe off the excess blood and ink. He can feel her scrutinizing her work. “You can keep going,” he tells her, but she ‘tsks’ in that way that only a Russian tongue can really do.

“We’ll come back to it. Skin behaves differently when you’re not relaxed.”

“I’m am relaxed!” He hears how ridiculous he sounds and heaves a long sigh, trying to let his shoulders untense to at least somewhere below the level of his ears. “I’m relaxed.”

“Keep saying it and it might come true.” Nat rolls away on her stool, peeling off her gloves with finality. “Your blood pressure and vodka’ll push the ink out faster than I can stick it. Just come over to the Red Room once it’s done scabbing and we’ll finish it then.”

She’s already packing up her stuff when Bucky gets the idea. “Wait.” He narrows his eyes at the rolling toolkit that Nat keeps in the club’s upstairs lounge just for him and his men. “Do me a favor,” he says slowly, the idea taking shape in his mind. “Run down to the shop and print out a transfer for me. Cyrillic. A small font. Something pretty but … bold. Easy to read.”

Natasha tenses. “What do you want it to say?”

“собственность дракона.”

“No,” she says, and when Bucky looks over, she’s standing ramrod straight.

“Clearly, you disapprove.”

“I’m not inking it.”

“I’m not asking you to,” he snaps, low on patience tonight, even for Natasha. “Print it out on a goddamn transfer sheet and bring it to me.”

She’s doing that dead faced thing she does—where she goes still like a doll to avoid making some expression she doesn’t want you to see. Right now, Bucky suspects it might be sheer disdain. “Size?” she asks. “Shaping?”

“One line straight up the forearm. Delicate lettering, but clear as a fucking bell to read.”

“That still doesn’t tell me what spacing—”

“You know how big she is, you figure out the fucking spacing!” he yells. “Or what the fuck am I even paying you for?!”

Natasha goes eerily still, then abruptly pivots to leave, the severe line of her hair whipping around with the motion. She’s unhappy with him.

“Red ink!” Bucky calls out, the door slamming shut after her a millisecond later. He grinds his teeth together and stands up from the chair he’s been perched in for the past three hours, carrying his drink over to the mirrors so that he can get a better look at his back.

Scales, teeth, claws. Crouched and curling across his shoulders, tendrils creeping up onto his neck, marking him as what he is: Дракон.

The Dragon.

“Will you help me?” he asks Steve, quiet now that it’s just the two of them.

“Depends on what you want me to do.”

“It depends”—No other man in the Bratva could give such an answer and expect to remain in one piece. But Steve’s gaze is steadfast when Bucky meets it and tells him, “She’s gotten away with too much for too long. It’s time to shorten the leash.”

In the mirror, Steve’s eyes darken. He nods.

Take me to part 2!

Masterlist

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[saintetheldredablogshorrormovies]

i feel like there are moments in this show where everyone was extremely attracted to dean winchester. but do you guys have like really weirdly specific moments where he does something really small or underappreciated that gave you so many butterflies that are not talked about as famous dean winchester hot moments in the fandom

i think mine was when he gets super indignant at sam for not watching shark week and hes like "a whole week of sharks how do you not watch that!" and he says it so forcefully and urgently and defensively and i just. sir you hunt monsters you meet a new terrifying fantastical creature every week and you are acting like sharks are the coolest thing that ever happened you spend this whole show fighting for your life and. and you never miss shark week. like i want to watch shark week with you every year forever and also kiss the life out of you please

[rascalentertainments]

Wish Granted AU: Flazino

Now the sorcerers' overworked, underappreciated, underpaid, incredibly tired apprentice, Flazino! I keep laughing at the fact that this guy has more depth to him than half the cast of the canon movie. 😂 He went from throwaway character to a nearly co-protagonist character with importance to the story!

His design was inspired by several Disney characters. The outfit and hair are a reference to Arthur/Wart from "The Sword in the Stone". The face and body language is based on George from the Paperman short film (Remember how great that was? And it mastered the 2D/3D hybrid animation long before Wish? What happened to those animators, Disney?)

(You can even use this concept art as reference for Flazino if you want too, especially that pissed off look 😂)

And I swear it wasn't on purpose, but as I started drawing him tired, he started resembling Bruno. All his references are from overworked or stressed out characters and I didn't even do it on purpose! 😂

Now for some backstory and info dump! This was pretty fun because I got to create my own take on him since there's practically nothing on him outside of a deleted scene.

• Like the aforementioned deleted scene, Flazino's wish is to study magic. For this story, its so he can help others lives be better, which is what he thought Magnifico wanted as well. He thought the job would be more glamorous or fun as he learned, but it turns out Mags doesn't actually want a successor. He plans on being in power permanently. He pretends he granted Flaz's wish and instead of studying magic, he's the errand boy, cleans the lab equipment, feeds Sabor, and is in charge of the tour guides for newcomers. Flazino just practices what he can at home and secretly takes ingredients from Amaya's potion cabinet.

•No one's sure if the bags under his eyes are from losing his wish and side effects starting, or its just him being stressed out all the time. Either way he's like Aled, he doesn't sleep much cause he's always working or worrying. He's sort of sassy when he's really tired so he might make an off hand comment. Bonus: He swears, but its censored in the "Spongebob Sailor Mouth" style. You'll just hear a noise or beep censorship sound in place of it. 😂 (Hey, you can say "Hell" and "Damn" in a Pixar movie now, so why not?)

•He gave his wish at 18, and was surprised to hear it was getting granted so soon. Though Mags doesn't really need an apprentice, he takes Flaz on just in case something happened to him, all of his magic, power and evil will go into the apprentice. Sort of passing on his plans to him to become the next Magnifico and continue his work. That's pretty terrifying.

• Most people in the Hamlet think that he and Asha are secretly a thing, but that's not the case. Lord knows Sabino wanted his granddaughter to get a boyfriend so she'd stop being so serious all the time. They never really had feelings like that for each other, they just stayed friends. One part is because Asha has just sealed herself off from connecting deeper with other people, and on Flaz's side, he already has feelings for someone else. (Also, after Star shows up and spends time with Asha, she starts feeling things for him she's been repressing for years. Girl, chill.-)

• During the first few months of becoming the apprentice, he learned about the Hamlet through rumors in Rosas. He didn't understand why people would run away until he stumbles on seeing the king and queen crush the wishes of a couple who talked about leaving Rosas and not trusting the royals. He never saw that couple again.

He later took off one night into the forest to finds this supposed Hamlet using a tracking spell. Once he finds it, Sabino and other people tell him why they ran and what a monster the royal could be. Flazino felt so disgusted that he promised to help anyway he could. So he makes an excuse to get specialty mushroom from the Uncharted Forest once a month and brings supplies to the Hamlet ever since. (stuff like seeds to grow food, flour, medicine, toys for the kids)

• A lot of the people actually go to Flazino if they can't get to the king for help improving the kingdom, or people needing help. The royals don't do crap, so he just does the best he can himself. But most people don't realize he's the one that granting their needs and not the royals.

• His connection to the 7 Teens actually foreshadows Asha bringing them together. Like the deleted scene suggested, they all know him as the "great apprentice to the king", when he's really just a tired guy trying not lose his sanity. He has different interactions with each of them.

Gabo is the one shouting that the royals are evil like a conspiracy theorist, but since he's such a low threat, they send Flazino to get rid of him and everytime he gets away. Gabo's been a nuisance for months now and he's even defacing anything with the royals on it. He actually agrees with Gabo, but obviously can't say it out loud.

For Simon, he tries to keep him awake when he can for his knight training, or guard duty so its his way of trying to help fulfill his wish of being a knight. He's tired himself, so its even harder.

Safi is allergic to practically everything when he cleans, so Flaz has an idea to make a medicine that can cure that through magic. He has no idea its just so he can talk to the girl he likes without sneezing in someone's face. 😂

Hal is one of the easiest he gets along with. She's pretty content where she is and gets along with him fine. Though he gets roped into doing some of her work when he's not paying attention, lol. If she does see an injustice being done to someone else she'll step in to help them.

Bazeema he's not even sure what she thinks of him. She's so shy whenever he talks to her, all he knows is that she does a great job caring for the local animals and flora in the kingdom, which he's thanked her many times for. Though she has been leaving him yellow roses as thank you messages.

Dahlia is actually the one he bonds with the best. He ends up talking to her when its time for Sabor's breakfast or dinner and she makes the food by hand with her parents. At first he just talked to her out of convenience and vent a little bit about being overworked (much to his surprise, she's actually listening). Then the two of them just found some comfort in talking to each other when they've had a long day and now its developed into a full-on crush for him. But with Dahlia going all fangirl on Magnifico, he doesn't have high hopes the feelings mutual. (She's been dropping hints but he's not getting it)

So I guess we got three Flazinos right now: RFTS!Flaz who actually likes his job and still wants to learn magic, UaS!Flaz who's a prince of the evil royals, and then WG!Flaz is an overworked man who wants to hurt his bosses. Y'all need therapy. 😂

(So now, Chapter 6 of WG will be out tomorrow! 😏)

@signed-sapphire @oh-shtars @annymation @chillwildwave

@uva124 @ishadow246 @tumblingdownthefoxden @your-ne1ghbor

@mythartist21 @gracebethartacc @emptyblog7 @spectator-zee

@lazytitans-world @emillyverse @flicklikesstuff @kenihewa

@snackara @wings-of-sapphire @natsuki208

[spdrvyn]

ikaw at ikaw (short drabble) — in where miguel helps you calm down from a horrible migraine, with many experiences and remedies under his belt.

miguel had noticed it since way earlier in the morning. the slight wobble in your step and the way you kept furiously rubbing at your forehead, but in typical you fashion, you shut down any attempts he made at checking in on you. he tried his best to get you to opt out of this mission, but you were too persistent, and too pretty to dismiss. you really were going to be the death of him.

trust me when i say that he tried, many, many times to get you to take a break. he was really starting to worry if he had a bad influence on you, is this what you felt like when you told him to stop overworking himself? by god, it was horrible.

so when you come back on the verge of passing out, miguel doesn't whip out any 'i told you so's or any condescending remarks. he is escorting you to the nearest couch, safe in his office where it's dark and quiet.

this wasn't the first time that he'd dealt with migraines before, his hypersensitive senses had induced so many nauseous and dizzy nights for him so obviously he came equipped just in case he or anyone else had ever experienced it too.

painkillers, hot tea, hot or cold compress, sleep mask, soft pillow, and blanket. complete sensory deprivation.

"being so nice to me, migs..." you spoke, delirium clouding your voice as the medicines had begun to kick in. the sleep mask was half draped over one of your eyes, the blanket tucked up all the way to your neck. "love it when you take care of me,"

"no necesitas darme las gracias, corazón." he presses his hand to your forehead, your body temperature was consistent throughout the day which meant that this wasn't predetermining a fever to his fortune. "i told you to rest so many times, but you didn't listen to me."

"i'm sorry," you whine, reaching out to rub his forearm apologetically. "i didn't want to miss work, i thought it was just another headache."

he stops your gesture and cups your hand, his engulfing yours. "i'd let you miss work over a stomach ache, you know that, right?" he squeezes your hand. "i already let you have, multiple times actually."

"that's why i stayed," you groan, "i felt guilty because- it seemed unfair. i didn't want special treatment because we're, you know... we're–" you make a kiss-y gesture with both of your hands and miguel has to bite back a smile.

"uh huh."

"you know what i mean!" you flop your hands down in defeat, "what if people notice that you favor me over them? ... you do favor me over them?"

"of course, i do. but you're not getting special treatment." he explains bluntly, "i wouldn't let you just walk off a splitting migraine—"

"you let peter walk off that one time he busted his knee."

"walk him off to the infirmary, sweetheart." he rests his elbow on the arm rest of the sofa, laying his head on his fist. "i'm not that mean. if anyone's hurt, they need to be checked. whether it's a broken rib or chest pains, that includes you too."

you look up at him with so much admiration. maybe he did just say that you're not getting any special treatment despite being all kissy kissy with him, but still. the compassion that he holds towards each spider is underappreciated, and you're lucky that you're the only one seeing this side of him.

"... but, you're giving me all of your stuff to help with my migraine. isn't that special treatment?"

he smiles before planting a very brief kiss on your lips, "that's a secret."

guess who had a really bad migraine today... this guy....

[homestuckreplay]

Pagecount: Over 900

(page 886-902)

With 17 pages, 11/22/2009 is the longest Homestuck update by number of pages to date. It contains not one but TWO huge story developments: the ominous planet and the Peregrine Mendicant.

Ominous Planet

Just as WV told us, the ominous planet is bright purple and lies ‘beyond an impenetrable veil of darkness’ (p.704/886).

Dad is here!! I think a lot of the sudden character transitions in Homestuck actually make sense – we went from John thinking about going into his dad’s room, over to Dad himself. He barely appeared in Act 2, getting kidnapped by the imps at the start and breaking out of his trick handcuffs at the end, and now he easily bests them. Clowning is a physically demanding pursuit so Dad must be well in shape beneath the business clothes, because he launches one imp right through the wall.

We also meet an imp security guard (?) who’s wearing similar but more intricate harlequin gear.

They’re watching Dad fight the imps and somehow also watching John battle the ogres, through a pair of windows similar in design to ‘one of [Jade’s] GRANDPA'S more mysterious inventions’ (p.790), the freestanding window on Jade’s gadget table. There is apparently no end to the number of people watching John.

He looks kind of familiar. On page 833, we’re introduced to the full Midnight Crew as the sky switches from blue to bright purple. And comparing these face shapes and designs side by side, these two characters feel like they could have something to do with each other. They’re both really angry, as Spades Slick’s answer to everything is violence, and this new guy refers to the other imps, John and Dad, or both as ‘graveyard stuffers’ (p.891). It’s the only text we get in relation to the character. The narrator apparently has nothing to add and no witty comment on that thought of theirs. There’s then a quick cut where seeing the next page title ‘You are now…’ suggests that we’re about to become this guy, but we instead suddenly become-

Peregrine Mendicant

THE MAIL HAS ARRIVED. Mail, packages and deliveries are a recurring motif – there have been several important colorful packages, several envelopes containing discs, and now there is a letter to Dr. David Brinner, ATTN: SERIOUS BUSINESS. Serious Business is of course the messaging client that Dad uses to keep in touch with his troupe, and we just returned to Dad in the story, so is this finally the moment that wellPressedAttire or officeurchin1280 take their starring role in the narrative? It’s definitely a person in John’s neighborhood but not Dad himself, as we’ve seen the insides of the Egbert mailbox.

PM’s mail based tirade (p.894-896) is of course reminiscent of WV’s mayoral calling (p.686) and PM’s adoption of the hat is just like WV making their sash. So there’s something to say about these chess pieces arriving at these Skaian bunkers and immediately adopting an institution of society as critically important. Both PM and WV’s monologues read as very idealistic, imagining these overly simplistic societies that function like textbook diagrams, as though they know about these things from books similar to WV’s Human Etiquette tome and have never been part of an actual human society. Comparing the two, WV’s monologue feels more peaceful, as it’s focused on everyone getting along, mutual respect, civility and a kind leader. PM talks of soldiers, a crusade, defenders and hope among the ashes; it’s far more violent and adventurous, and feels more grounded in harsh realities even while it maybe overestimates the mail’s capability.

Which is not to criticize the mail or PM’s speech, because I think they’re both great. I agree that mail is very important, highly underappreciated, and I think it’s beautiful to explore an empty wasteland and to think ‘if there are any people left here, I need to make sure they can communicate with each other’.

Looking stylish in their new hat, PM loads their terminal and tries to greet Jade the same way WV commanded John. Jade is already covered by a lot of green static, but it appears to be snowing where she is, with flakes and drifts behind her. Which is weird in itself, because Jade is close enough to the equator that a quick search suggests it wouldn’t snow in her area no matter the time of year, especially not with the geothermal power near her house. But it gets weirder, because when John resisted a command he just felt frustrated and got a headache as he tried to ignore a weird voice in his head. When Jade resists a command, she apparently blows up the command station with lightning that she transmits through time and space. Yet another way that Jade is weirder and more powerful than the other characters.

> PM: Sacrifice yourself to save the mail.

[anxresi]

Based on what I’ve seen and read, it would appear as though...

...Adrien is the SECOND most underused and underappreciated character in the show (after Chloe, of course).

How could someone, with SO much going for them in terms of relevance to the plot (his dad is the main baddie, him being the main love interest and co-superhero, his NAME being in the title for God sake) be so wilfully ignored?

Let’s just say, Fu’s words about Ladybug and Chat being ‘equals’ sounds awfully hollow when presented with the actual evidence in canon. 

From what I understand, he even spent the big S5 finale locked up with Kagami ROBBING VIEWERS OF SEEING HIM CONFRONT HIS FATHER AND DISCOVERING THE TRUTH.

Inexcusable from a storytelling POV IMHO, but so is having your only apparent agency in the show being Marinette’s arm candy and messing up a LOT during superhero duty so Ladybug can look good by comparison.

What are his other interests, besides trying to make her happy in and out of costume? What are his other personality traits, apart from being a pliable doormat to her every whim? None, as far as I see.

‘Girl Power’ isn’t intentionally writing male characters to be subservient to their female counterparts, it’s about making them EQUAL in terms of importance & relevance. In as far as what I’ve learned about Adrien on the show of late, it looks like they failed miserably on both those counts.

Bring this up with Astruc, and naturally he’ll accuse you of being a ‘sexist’ or worst a ‘misogynist’ (talk about the pot calling the kettle black) and say something along the lines of ‘you just don’t want a GIRL in charge’.

Well considering about 99.9% of the people who bring this up with him ARE female, I fear he may have got his wires crossed on this one. EVERYONE wants a more equal partnership between the two title characters, and suggesting if you do you’re some kind of bigoted chauvinist is gaslighting of the highest order.

(Mind you, this coming from a guy who recently said Ladybug was Barbie and Chat Noir was KEN, so we can’t expect too much from him)

I must say, being an absolute Chloe stan (as if you didn’t know) I was a bit out of my comfort zone during this short rant, but I think it ties in nicely with my problems with the show’s formulaic and contradictory writing in general, so I thought I’d give it a go anyway. Hope I did okay!

 (Don’t get me started on that ‘Marinette must learn a lesson in every episode’ bullshit, either)

Agree? Disagree? Feel free to get in touch. Oh, and one more bonus meme to add to the collection... 

...Hopefully, you’re beginning to see my point. :p

[charlesxavierthirster3000]

✧ Tightrope — L.Howlett

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Fem!Mutant Reader

Synopsis: Short blurb (?) of Burdened

A/N: Haiii :333 ANYWAYS i felt the urge to write this while listening to Tightrope-Michelle Williams (who would've guessed 😂😂😂) and idk how to feel ab it bc its 4am and i lowk need to sleep or my jetlag is gonna get wayyy fucking worse ALSOO this song is so underappreciated i swear i will strangle someone WITH a tightrope if they ever say they dont like it....... This is also a tad dramatic bear with me now guys

WC: 245 (LAWLLL i wrote this in like 20 mins shut up) / Navigation

You were always a breath away from falling.

You were constantly on a tightrope; if you fell and hurtled down, you had to accept the reality where you were just a momentary diversion from her. A fleeting thing to keep him entertained while he was parted with the real object of his desire.

The rope stretched far, far into the concept of eternity. It was meaningless to endure the pit etched into your stomach, to keep paying no mind to the blistering soles of your feet as you grasped onto that last atom of aspiration you were convinced was still tangible.

You were supposed to be a confident, autonomous woman. It was carved into your reputation. A powerful mutant with abilities to alter reality and defend your companions— your family.

If you were able to amend reality, why acknowledge it?

Without her in his presence, you could feel that trigger waiting to be pulled, the spark awaiting its ignition as you worked a conflicting resolution over while together on a mission, engaged in playful banter in front of the daunting staircases you both eventually divided into for beloved kids you had to enlighten.

The lack of repercussions for calling him by his surname. The risks you would hesitate on— all of it vanishing like salt on a gas-induced flame as soon as he appeared by your side.

You were willing to take the risk and not lose the chance as long as you did it with him.

Guys i have a smut fic in the works and i actually got to the smut and i dont..... Know...... How to pull her pants down........

[bxbym3t4l]

Why I think Gem is such an Underrated 'character' in Secret Life

Since she was the newest player in the series I mean she didn't really know the stuff other people do for lore and shit, her whole task where she had to open the end portal she did some cool lore stuff with that but didn't take it too seriously, saying she had to use her OWN eye to fill the last ender eye slot, I mean thay itself has some shit about her orgins in the life series and if u check her different colour skins for the game it shows it did have some impact on her

^ to continue on the stuff about her skin u can see how there is a skulk like texture going on her arm and stuff which is probably again, an impact from changing her own eye into an ender eye and messing with supernatural shitLike 4 episodes after this lore stuff she gets the bogeyman curse where she has to eliminate and kill almost everyone on the server, it turns into an apocalypse, and I personally think she's an underappreciated villan, After though everyone thanks her, everyone that she did kill and put I the apocalypse which could be some sort of aftereffect, but for Grian he's the only one (out of the people she talks to) that is 'mad' at her even though she didn't even kill him. The Finale is also so important to her lore and stuff, In the finale Grian attacks Her, Impulse and Scott, which makes it a 1v3 and in the end they end up killing Grian, her alliance with the mounders (Joel, Bdubs, and Pearl (well also Mumbo but Mumbo is already dead at this point)) is broken, including her alliance with her best friend Pearl. Which obviously had some impact on her because she THOUGHT that at the end Pearl would make a choice to try and be on friendly terms with Gem, Since it would be her characters first time seeing a perm death of her friend when Impulse dies she's obviously devastated and turned to Scott and went something along the lines of "he's dead Scott why'd they kill him!!" after Impluse dies, (and everyone else) The final 4 are Scott, Gem, Pearl and Scar (Scar being the supposed Villian of the whole series) and Gem had the least amount of hearts out of Scar, Pearl and herself, but had more than Scott, Scott asked her to kill him so that she could have a higher chance of winning, Making it to the final 3 and devastated by another death of a friend but also having much more materials to fight. She thought that "I can't kill Pearl, Pearl is gunna win this", And when she goes to fight with Scar, both Scar AND Pearl try to fight her. She feels betrayed and teleports away with an enderpearl, they both follow her, Scar and Gem fight it ou with Pearl just watching from the sidelines, When Pearl did join in Gem said "2v1 you guys are gross!!" Right before she died, The fandom is always saying she was such a hypocrite, but both times, she DIDNT initiate the fight, each time she didn't. have. a. choice. PLUS even if she did start the fight she was just mourning the loss of 3 of her greatest allies, Impulse and Scott who are dead and Pearl who betrayed her. I just find Gem such an Underrated 'Villan' because for Scar he was the "Villan" because it's what the role forced him to do, but Gem realistically in the apocalypse thing, could have only killed one Person and not led it like an army, She chose to lead them, Because she only had to kill one person and help the second person with the kill.

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk

(This is all MY interpretation of how her lore makes sense, don't try and fight me)

Also if we think about the few lore implications with how they show how she didn't tell Impulse what she was going to go do, it could show that with her character, with Secret life being her first full experience it would have impacted her ability to trust and be honest.

(Again most of this is normal stuff that the creators do in the SMP I just enjoy writing lore for their characters based on how they act)