#okay so if you care for an explanation why there are so many flags

[halfusek]

happy pride month to all the sillys :3

[pixxiesticksys]

I think a big problem with a lot of the people complaining about Desirdae is that they're just like. Expecting from us.

Like. As someone who experiences atypical dysphoria, I should be allowed to say "I want a word that describes my experience." Just because you don't want that doesn't mean that your want us finite. Quite frankly, I don't fucking care want you want. I want a word that describes MY experience

(bolded words I and My)

And some of you guys are being way too holierthanthou about this. This whole thing has existed for what. A fucking month? If that? Of course people who want to have one are going to hop onto make or find a word that fits their experience. I made words that fit my experience.

The transid community has existed and evolved for fucking years and you guys are comparing it to a newborn subject trying to find it's place in the world. Nearly everything the community is at this point is words to describe things and pretty pictures and people are getting pissy because we aren't fucking philosophers. I'm so so sorry that my coining post for a fucking word did not have in depth every little detail of what is and isn't okay in my holy opinion as the only person who is ever right.

So WHAT if a fucking coining post doesn't have every single way to transition ever or in depth explanation of what transitions are harmful or a 15 page pamphlet on ethics and morality and how nuanced that shit is. It's a fucking coining post. It's a flag and a word to describe an experience felt by an individual it isn't the fucking holy word of your specific God.

I am sure that desirdae help blogs will pop up. I will gladly make a desirdae help blog of my own, if anyone wants that just let me know! I'm literally in the process of creating the desirdae discord server and one of the biggest reasons I wanted to create this was so that we could communicate. So that we could talk about tips for transition and discuss ethics and nuances. Try to help label what is and isn't okay and what is more in depth than that. Try to find workarounds for transition that is harmful. I'm (NOT??) sorry that this community didn't spawn in with every single little thing done in the way YOU want it done. Maybe instead of getting on your little blog and complaining, YOU make the posts discussing the ethics of transitioning for certain terms.

Whining and calling us self hating radqueers literally just shows how little of a say you should have in this in the first place ! You canNOT be a radqueer without identifying yourself as a radqueer

And since we're already here, why don't we just take a poll

We ALL are JUST fucking beings on TUMBLR of all places. And we're all just beings with REAL lives OFF of Tumblr too! This discord server would be going by so much faster if I wasn't sick out of my mind, but that's not where I am in life. Some of us have jobs, school, Important events, disability, disorders, inspections or tests or whatever the hell else. Not everyone alive has the time to make this community fucking pitch perfect in a month! We're doing what we can day by day. No perfection comes in a day. Or a month. Perfect is not fucking possible, it's not real

The newborn community needs time to move past the coin flags and be represented stage. But If you wanted to see something else from it, all you had to do was ask.

@desirdae-archive can we get a boost for that poll there?

[satanicchristiancult]

Sexuality and labeling is weird and I want to talk about it.

This is all focused on my own experiences.

Honestly, I have no exact reason to post this, especially since I have homework that was due yesterday that I still haven’t finished, but oh well.

Back when I was really active on queer spaces (I genuinely used to be one of the moderators of a pretty large Amino. I spoke with so many people about so many things. It’s impressive that I even managed to do that), I used to really investigate as many labels as I could. I knew about so many obscure gender, romantic, and sexual identities just for the sake of helping other people find their own.

I guess that I was, in one way or another, searching for my own identity. At that point in my life, I would have described my identity as panromantic, asexual, and demiromantic. I was okay with that definition. I was someone who didn’t experience sexual attraction, and felt little romantic attraction unless it was to someone close, in which case, their gender or identity didn’t matter.

I liked finding labels for myself. Finding something in the gender department was a tad bit harder. I identified with pangender and liked it.

I drifted apart from the community and just stopped engaging in queer spaces like that all together.

I constantly debated whether or not I was more aroflux than demiromantic, so for a while I’d just use them interchangeably.

Around that time, I came out for the first and only time.

Hear me out, I consider these things important, but I’ve always had the idea that I’m just never gonna come out to anyone. I’d be fine with that. I’m me. That’s enough. I don’t own anyone any pretty words to describe my identity. (I did like the flags though).

This time I came out, I tried to do this same explanation, plus some other xenogenders and more obscure identities that I somewhat identified with, while adding the flags as well:

“I’m pangender, which means that I identify with all genders and with none of them at the same time. Between that pangender identity, there are xenogenders, which refers to genders that can’t be described in the usual “masculine”, “feminine”, and “androgynous” ways. I use neopronouns, which refers to pronouns other that “he”, “she”, and “they”. I use xe/xem pronouns and strongly resonate with them. I’m asexual, so I don’t experience sexual attraction. I’m panromantic, demiromantic, and aroflux, which means that I don’t experience romantic attraction, except for when I do, in which case it tends to be for people who I have a strong emotional bond with. This person/people could be of any gender. I don’t care about looks, identity, anything. Just personality~”

Fun fact, to this day, even after so many years of using xe/xem pronouns, not a single person has ever referred to me with them. None of my neopronouns. Not even once.

The reaction, of course, silence from the group chat.

Some questions. Other than that, nothing.

Honestly, people don’t expect you to go on and come out, identifying with microlables. People expect you to identify with the classic sexualities, all of those in the acronym. LGBT. (That’s why I like to extend that bastard as much as I can while still making it “socially acceptable” so people don’t look at me weirdly. LGBTQIA2S+).

Honestly, I don’t know what I expected. I had a similar conversation with a cousin. It’s was like 1am and we were chatting, and he said “oh, well, but we did need the “gay cousin””. I told him it was me, he told me that it was him. We just repeated those things for a while. Eventually, I genuinely asked him if he meant it. I told him I did. He told me he did. We came out to each other. I guessed his sexuality correctly, I explained each of my identities carefully.

Next time we saw each other, we talked about it. I came out, explained each label again. He hadn’t heard about a single one of them. I told him my preferred pronouns, my odd disconnect with my given name, and things like that.

He seemed to have forgotten by the next time. He referred to me with that name, which is fine, but the pronouns. Those hurt. I wasn’t gonna say anything though. It’s been years, I still haven’t.

Not so long ago, he came out to me. I accepted him, used his pronouns, addressed him by his name (which I don’t know how he spells, by the way, cause this is Latinoamérica and you can never asume how someone writes their name, we have like a thousand different ways to write each one). I came out again. I repeated my crisis with my name. My pronouns. Has he used them? I haven’t got a clue. We haven’t been able to speak one on one for a while. I miss him.

I guess that these experiences of coming out, plus an almost forced outing and an actual forced outing, neither of which I’m gonna expand upon, made myself look at my own identity differently. I started considering the identity of unlabeled.

I like labels. I liked labeling myself. It meant having a community of others like me. A space.

I started feeling disconnected from them, in a weird way, at least. Am I technically all of those things? Yes. Do those terms explain me correctly? Not really??

I’ve slowly just gone on to identify myself as me. I love love, I love everyone and everything. I want to have a relationship, marry, hell, maybe even sex. I don’t know. I like the idea of those things. I can’t picture myself as actually being in any of those, but I like to believe that they will come someday, and that I will enjoy them.

I love in a nonconventional way. For me, love is love, no matter whether or not it is sexual, romantic, platonic, or anything else.

My gender? It is yes and no. Everything and nothing. It doesn’t matter, yet it does.

I don’t understand, even after so many years of being in both the aro and ace spectrums, what the hell is “attraction”. I guess I just don’t feel those. Isn’t that the definition of both of those terms? Yes.

It’s truly been years, and until recently did I manage to open my eyes and tell myself “even without attraction, you can have a relationship. You can have sex”.

It was so contradictory to me. If I don’t have attraction, do I just not want those things? In my case, I do want them, I am attracted to the idea. Whenever it comes to people, it’s harder though. I’m terrified of people. I want a relationship. I want to have sex. I want to understand.

What even is attraction???

I identify as unlabeled, but I am in denial.

I am unlabeled, but only in my head.

Hell, not even there.

I’m not gonna come out to anyone as that. If anyone asks, I’ll make a simplified version of what I’ve always said. “Aroace and panromantic. Gender? Good question”.

Do any labels actually identify me? Yes and no. I’m disconnected from them. I want them to fit. They fit. But they don’t.

I’m me. That’s enough.

Is it enough?

I try each day to convince myself that it is.

I also don’t know.

-Mori (They/Xem)

[eeveecraft]

I do have to say (because all of the talk about sysmeds mass reporting is causing me so much panic I almost deleted) — Tumblr has been mass terminating LGBT+ blogs recently. It’s been a thing. A lot of people are getting fucked over.

I’m really really upset that everyone immediately said it was sysmeds because it’s genuinely causing me panic and I don’t really think people are mass reporting just for existing? Sophie is vocal in syscourse but you aren’t and now I’m terrified. There’s so many explanations but now you all are the ones vaguely saying “ooo it MIGHT be anti endos” and just. Everything is so bad faith it makes me sick ):

I don’t think we were purged because we happen to be queer. I’m not super vocal about us being a queer system on this blog, nor do I post in queer tags. I’d be more inclined to believe that if we were more overtly open about us being queer and talked about it more.

But to counter your second point: can you really blame the community for jumping to that conclusion? Like I said in our post, sysmeds mass reporting popular blogs HAS happened before. Just because Sophie is vocal about syscourse doesn’t mean she deserved to get mass-flagged by sysmeds TWICE because of it.

Like, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but yes, sysmeds hate us *that* much for just existing, and it’s really fucked up. There’s literally entire subreddits dedicated to sh!tting on and fakeclaiming not only nondisordered systems, but even pro-endogenic disordered systems. They literally cannot accept the fact that people can be plural through means other than severe trauma and that Plurality isn’t *inherently* pathological. They especially hate Tulpamancy because they see it as treating a very serious disorder as a joke because to them, DID/OSDD = Plurality and DID/OSDD only.

I’m genuinely sorry this has terrified you and has caused you such distress, but it legitimately isn’t a stretch to speculate that sysmeds had it out for us, ESPECIALLY considering their history and the current circumstances in the tulpa-related tags right now. But I’m also not saying for 100% that they did it. We don’t know. I’m not going to lie and say sysmeds 100% did it because that is disinformation and fear-mongering. It could’ve absolutely been a fuck-up on Tumblr’s end that just *happened* to occur at a really sh!tty time.

We assume these takes and motives are in bad-faith for a variety of reasons. This viewpoint is mostly backed by people who don’t think we exist, have a history of mass-flagging blogs they dislike enough, have NO issue witch-hunting and harassing people, and even the supposed pro-endo anti-tulpa terminology people may or may not literally be fraternizing with sysmeds and are involved in really sketchy servers.

In that one post criticizing my original post, the OP not only accused us of spreading “incredibly racist ideas,” stated basically that they see why we get harassed because to them; we’re just a sh!tty racist, spreading blatant disinformation, fucking name-dropping and linking our blog despite us having them blocked, and conveniently NOT telling people NOT to witch-hunt us. Tell me: how the fuck is that in good faith? And that system is supposedly fucking pro-endogenic, anti-tulpa terminology. Like I said, it is NOT a stretch to assume that that post incited a witch-hunt, even considering the possibility that the OP didn’t intend it.

I have never condoned witch-hunting sysmeds, I do not condone ANY harassment towards them, and never will. Not only is it pointless because most sysmeds are stuck in their mindset, but it just creates a really toxic community environment. Just block, report if they’re saying hate-speech or telling blogs to end their existence, but please, for all our followers, sending hate to them is not okay, nor productive.

And truly, if this sh!t is making you feel sick, please don’t obligated to stay here. Please focus on taking care of yourself, and if you need to unfollow us, block tags, or whatever to disengage with this, please do. Your health comes first.

7-31-2023

[m4ruk4ts]

What made you ship argchu? That's a very unique pairing, I'm curious :) and what other Argentina ships do you have?

well............it's a long story- okay not really, i think it has to do with the fact that china is my favorite character jsjs like even as of now, three years later in the fandom i'm still obsessed with him ,,o_o,, and knowing all that and adding how constant i am with oc x canon you get; argchu, the rarest argentina-related ship xddd it was like that in the beggining, but it was only reciently that i decided to look a little deeper to get new info about the irl relations of said countries, and it went surprisingly great! it's actually a very sucessful and beneficial for both parts (ignoring all the conspiracies oh lord--) i swear that many of the articles and pdfs i got to read remarked how friendly and close the two countries were to one another, the word partners being used quite a lot... LAST YEAR THEY COMMEMORATED THE 50 YEARS OF DIPLOMATIC RELATIONS WITH A VIDEO CONTEST LIKE- WHAT THE HELL-

but anyway, irl stuff aside, i think both china and argentina are a cute ship (at least....in my take on it) because despite all their differences they still manage to keep in contact and get along, they're antipodes (geographically) and opposites (personality-wise) but overall, they're partners :3

also look at their little flags intertwined, isn't that cute lksdjsld (im delusional)

this was a very brief explanation but i hope it answers your question anon!!! thank you for asking!!! though i'm not good at expressing stuff like this haha, maybe in the future i can make like, an actual and complete post about why i care so much about these two, who knows... while argchu is like, i guess, my main argentina-related ship, i do have other ones!!! some are just as rare and unique lmao (why am i like this) i ship her with; brasil, perú, england, russia, japan, south korea, belarus, taiwan just to name a few!!! (i need to ship her with more women tbh) i guess that's all i have to say for now lol, if you have any more questions feel free to ask! i love answering asks like these, even if i have no idea how to articulate my thoughts properly ldfgjdflg

[just-antithings]

Clicked on a video even though I knew I probably wouldn't like it, cuz the booktuber has tried to be nuanced and has defended authors who wrote badwrong things before. The video was about CC writing Ron x Ginny fic and inserting incest into her books, plus her "clumsy" explanations to explain why she used incest as a theme. (Clumsy is in quotes, cuz I don't know if CC meant what she said about using incest as a theme or if she only wanted it in her book cuz it's her kink. I don't care one way or the other, but CC isn't exactly Shakespeare. I fully believe she would go into a book series with the intention of using incest as a symbol or theme and then not execute it well. I like brother/brother incest, but I also write it to use it as a theme about healing from toxic masculinity and/or about how thin the line between love and obsession can be. Writers can and do use things that make them horny to comment about society or whatever they want to comment on. Saying, "It's not deep, it's just their kink," stifles analysis. Sorry about the long aside.)

Cuz I can never stop myself, I looked at comments, and I noticed that the booktuber had pinned their own comment, saying something like, "The issue isn't her writing incest. It's her LYING."

Sorry, but then why bitch about all the incest in the video? And CC does admit she thinks it's hot, which you (the booktuber) point out, when CC said at a panel (tweet?) that she ships Stefan/Damon from Vampire Diaries.

Like, I don't even like CC. She's not a great person from what I hear, her writing ranges from mediocre to laughably bad with some good lines sprinkled here and there (but granted I've only read like 3 of her books and don't know if she's gotten better at all), and in the circles I hang out in, I'm glad I see more people talking about her plagiarism accusations more than the incest themes as "reason she's bad."

And one comment said it's one thing if incest as a theme is in adult work like ASOIAF, but not YA, but um... Okay, were do we keep drawing lines about what's "acceptable" for a teenage audience? How much do they need to be coddled? Do YA authors have to include those "Book Discussion" questions in the backs of their books, but instead it's a list of red flags the characters wave? (Though honestly, I do love book discussion questions in the back of books, for like book clubs and such. They're good for learning how to apply literature analysis but to books you (general you) are reading for fun, instead of for class. I vote we get more books with them. Maybe it'll help with so many people who seem to think if the author doesn't say something explicitly in an aside in text, they must then condone the thing.)

ugh yeah

[soobrat]

wingless angel; dsc

act i | act ii | final act milestone celebration masterlist

pairing; fuckboy!winwin x afab!reader

words; 7.2k

genre; estabished relationship, college au, ANGST, smut

warnings; DUBCON, toxic relationship, manipulation, sex in a theater, slut shaming (like actually), piv, getting caught, Sicheng is just really nasty okay

preface; this was hard to write, I feel so bad for MC. act iii will be less depressing I promise.

act ii ➻ in my head 

Your silence was going on for far too long. Any longer and the only explanation would be you hiding or realizing something. It was a little bit of both. Why did you like Dong Sicheng?

Sicheng was one of those people who were cool in high school and college, when the average person cared less about how they were perceived. At least a little. You were no longer sweating in the middle of history class, surrounded by giggling popular kids and stressing about whether your limbs looked awkward. You weren’t an idiot, though. You realized that you were on the ground, along with the majority of the students on campus. Sicheng and everyone he associated with? Leisurely floating among the sun and the clouds, not even sparing a glance at anyone below.

All your life you felt insignificant. Like you could scream and no one would hear a sound. It never bothered you until it came to crushes, and walking into your university’s orientation gave you one of the most debilitating crushes yet. 

There he was, vibrating at a different frequency. By this time, every crush would notice your eyes boring into the side of their head. Not Sicheng. He had never looked at you once throughout your first year. Your crushes didn’t last long. They’d end up angry about your constant staring and chew you out, or their friends would tease them into declaring their disdain for you. All of your crushes came crashing down in a huge fire, ending with you sobbing alone in your bedroom. With Sicheng it was strangely quiet. 

Your second year, you got into a relationship with Kun. It distracted you for a moment. You quickly realized you’d receive no affection there. The summer after, you broke up with Kun. It was messy and draining. You felt like a zombie. Waking up at three in the afternoon, going to the library, staying there until it closed.

One night, you happened to glance to your right. That’s when you finally caught his eyes. You were locked into his gaze as he flashed you a smile. 

“Hey.” Sicheng whispered, propping his head up with his palm.

“Hey.”

You looked calm, but you felt like you were floating. You must’ve had dark circles accompanied by some pretty defined bags, but that didn’t matter. He saw you. He was talking to you. That night was the first of many where you were shoved into a bookcase in the back corner of the library with Sicheng’s hungry lips everywhere your skin was exposed. You had new marks to show off daily. Kun’s disgusted glare at you from across the lecture hall was just a bonus. His words rang in your ears.

“Have you no respect for yourself?”

Sicheng let the wings Kun continuously clipped flourish. He changed you for the better. The sad part was that people didn’t understand that.

“I don’t know what you want me to say. He’s good to me.”  You say, exasperated. They clearly stated this wouldn’t be an intervention.

“…Does he?” Aeri questions, skepticism evident on her face. With your body language growing more closed off by the second, she��s quick to expand on her question. “Sicheng is infamous for treating his girlfriends like shit.”

“That may be true, I’m not denying that, but who’s to say he hasn’t changed?” You cringe as soon as the words leave your mouth. You sound like every human who’s ever been in denial of their toxic relationship. 

“I am. I am to say. Bro, he literally has a pattern of behavior. It’s not that he just vaguely treats them badly. First, he only goes for virgins. You know for a fact that’s a waving red flag.” Jimin speaks up, twice as annoyed as you are. Not an intervention your ass. You were supposed to watch a movie, are you a TV all of a sudden?

“Second, he always coerces them to fuck and makes a big deal out of “taking their innocence”. That’s waving red flag number two. Are you seriously not seeing these?”

“Woah, there was no coercion! It was a consensual exchange!” It’s not the most graceful, but you manage to avoid the question. No amount of beating around the bush could stop the question from seeping into your subconscious. 

“Oh god, so you guys already had sex?” Minjeong whispers before they all give you a look of uneasiness. You groan.

“Yes! We, two consenting adults who have been in a relationship since the summer had sex! What’s so bad about that?” You erupt, defending yourself like a cornered defenseless animal.

“You really wanna know?” Jimin grits her teeth, becoming visibly restless. 

“Jimin…” Minjeong rests her hand on her leg and pleads with her eyes. Jimin can’t see any of the three pairs of eyes begging her to be merciful, though.

“No, I wanna know. I asked, didn’t I?” You push hesitantly. Jimin is a friend, but you’ve seen what her words have done to others. Never would you have thought she’d aim at you. She wouldn’t…

“Fine. You wanna be stubborn? I can force you to see the reality of the situation-”

“Just say it already!”

“Why else would Sicheng choose you?!” Jimin shouts. Your mouth falls open, feeling as if her words knocked the wind out of you. The other three quickly work to patch up the wound she left behind.

“Jimin! What the hell?” Says Aeri before rushing to your side, pushing Jimin to the end of the couch.

“She didn’t mean that…” Minjeong soothes in a hushed voice.

“I think what she meant to communicate was that Sicheng was preying on… he was using how you see yourself against you.” Yizhuo attempts to cautiously diffuse the situation. You laugh dryly. All this time you thought your friends just happened to be much prettier than you are. Now you’re witnessing how they’ve always seen you. 

“I-I’m gonna go.” You say shakily, standing from the couch. Everyone except Jimin tries to convince you to stay.

“Let me guess, you’re going to see him.” Jimin shakes her head at you. You don’t even spare her a glance.

“Haven’t you done enough?” Aeri glares at Jimin before looking back at you. “Please sit down, she should’ve never said that.”

“Go ahead! Keep babying her. See where it lands her.”

As tears threaten to spill you try to leave before you let her see you cry.

“Wait!” Minjeong grabs your arm. “Please, just hear us out. We only want what’s best for you.”

You pause before slipping your arm from her grasp. Staying there felt like a constant reminder of how you’ve been seen all your life. As you open the door Jimin yells after you one last time.

“At least answer this. Does he take you out on nice dates? Buy you nice things? Hell, does he even fucking compliment you? If not, how is he making you feel good?”

“H-he… of course he does!” You turn back, only to be faced with four rounds of skepticism. 

“If the only way he makes you feel good is physical, you’re not his girlfriend. You’re a sex doll.”

Like pulling away from a fire before it scorches you, you retreat, slamming the door behind you.

What was the goal of that exchange? To make you feel like shit? To show you how pathetic they think you are? How could they, people you considered your friends?

As soon as Sicheng knocks on the door, you swing it open and rush to wrap your arms around him. You sob into his chest, waiting for the warmth of his embrace to consume you so you could distract yourself. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Fuck, his voice is so dry. In your frustration, all you can focus on is the rain pouring down beyond the eaves of your house. The overwhelming smell of drenched Earth and the dreary skies beyond Sicheng’s shoulders keep pulling you back to reality. 

“My friends, they… really hurt me today.” You say quietly, feeling embarrassed of your overwrought emotions now. He pushes you away to smile down at you. 

“Who cares what they think, remember?”

The guilty feeling in your chest was still there from the first time you said it, but it was fading quickly. “Yeah. You’re right.”

“Good, now get dressed, I’m taking you out.”

A wide grin spreads across your face.

-

“Babe! Hurry up!” Sicheng whines, drawing out each word unnecessarily like a child. You giggle, watching yourself in the mirror as you apply the finishing touches to your makeup. You smile at your reflection, finally satisfied enough to show him.

“Okay! I’m done.” You yell as you open your bedroom door. Your lip quivers as you wait for his reaction. He glances over with a smile to match the one you failed to contain. You feel light fill your chest. 

“I thought maybe you took too long, but we could probably sneak in a quickie and be on time.”

Your smile fades a bit more noticeably than you’d like. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks from the couch. You shrug, feeling stupid now. “Come on.” He says with a leery look. “Tell me.”

“It’s just… do you like it…” Your voice is so quiet it’s almost inaudible.

“What, how you look?” The way he asks makes your expression sour further. Flat, no emotion. Almost like he was annoyed by being asked to consider your efforts. “Why? Did you wear this for me?”

You nod sheepishly. He exhales slowly through his nose before beckoning you closer. When you’re in reaching distance he pulls at the hem of your dress. “This is perfect.” He smirks before biting his lip. You smile back, a thank you right on the tip of your tongue before he speaks again.

“Easy access…” He trails off before flipping your dress up and revealing your lacy underwear. You gasp, pulling the fabric from his fingers.

“What pretty underwear.” He chuckles, pulling you onto his lap. Your heart is racing, and not because he’s being crude or getting you aroused. You’re completely, and utterly embarrassed. Every second you spent in your room agonizing over what clothes to wear and how much makeup to apply, you spent thinking of him. And all he’s worried about is how easy it’ll be to fuck you. 

Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you consider his side. The two of you haven’t seen each other over the entire weekend since he was out of town. He’ll be back to normal after you have sex. Back to what you usually do…

“Babe.” Sicheng snaps you out of your thoughts. “Let’s just go now, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

He holds you by your waist, stopping to look closer at your face. You stare back confusedly. “D’you have on makeup?”

Look at you, jumping to conclusions and doubting your boyfriend. He’s taking you on a date for god’s sake. And now he’s recognizing the effort you put in for him. In his defense, maybe he couldn’t see from afar.

“Yeah, do you like it?” You ask hopefully, prying your heart to the over-exposed state it’s usually in.

“I mean, it’s fine, but we’re going to the movies. It’s gonna be dark.” He chuckles, looking at you like a silly child. He pats your ass before maneuvering you off of him. 

“Let’s go.”

-

You were lost in thought the entire car ride. At least you were actually seeing a movie like you were promised. You fidget with your phone in your lap, popping it in and out of its case.

 Couldn’t he at least have told me I looked pretty?

The thought brought about a tightness in your chest. You force yourself to look out of the window, trying to distract yourself from the rising unease.

“Are you okay?” Sicheng turns down the radio, removing a layer of distraction. You wouldn’t be able to stabilize your trembling voice so you just nod. He’s quiet for a moment, leaving the volume lowered to cause you just that much more suffering. 

“Hey, uh, I forgot to tell you! I was talking to a couple girls last week,”

You could feel spite gnawing at your brain. Why must he insist on being so oblivious to how he makes you feel? Him being utterly dense was the favorable answer as opposed to something more purposeful. But that’s downright depraved, and it’s silly to even consider that. What would he gain?

A sex doll.

The thought flares up your anxiety tenfold. You hurriedly roll the window down and gasp in the air. 

“They told me how good we looked together. You know, as a couple?”

You slowly turn to face the windshield before turning again to look at your boyfriend. He looks back at you, face painted in confusion.

“Her friend said she was jealous of what we have.” He raises his eyebrows with a smirk before concentrating on the road. You expected to see him crack an amused smile at that assertion. You wouldn’t blame him, you felt the same way. The devastating realization came when you were standing together in the mirror, checking out your matching costumes. He didn’t comment on it, but it was so obvious. Next to him, it was much more apparent just how unexceptional you were. It was like the main character standing next to an extra.

“Girls from our university said that?”

Sicheng laughing at your confusion rather than the statement about your relationship wasn’t adding up in your brain. 

“Yeah. Why not?”

What were you going to do, tell him you thought the two of you didn’t match? All that would do is reveal your poor self-esteem. It’s pitiful, and would probably make him uncomfortable.

“Oh, nothing. That’s really sweet.” You say with phony nonchalance. 

“It really is. It’s about time people start acknowledging how awesome we are.” He’s smug about it, but it was doing it for you. You smile over at him and he smiles back.

So when you get to the theater, you’re not pissed off that his hand makes its way under your skirt. You don’t scold him as he fucks his fingers into you. And you allow him to pull you onto his lap. You ignore that this was the reason you sat in the very back corner.

“Look at you,” He grunts in your ear as he haphazardly pushes your panties to the side. “being so nasty for me.” 

You’ve been worked up since he said that in the car. His teasing didn’t make it any better.

“You’re so worked up already. Should I pull over? Nah, I think I should make you wait.”

And he was true to his word, no matter how much you begged him to at least let you grind against his palm. So you were letting him fuck you in public. If only Kun could see you now. The thought makes you clench down on him.

“Fuck- baby. You’re gonna make me cum. Why are you being so obscene, hm?” He digs his fingers into your bare thighs as his hips snap against you. You bite your lip, grinding down to meet his thrusts.

“You make me so horny.” You whimper pitifully before leaning your head back against his shoulder. You can feel his cock twitch inside you after saying that. He’s always loved when you admit how much you want him to fuck you. The effect is stronger whenever it comes packaged with a little shame, which is why you expected something along the lines of his next words.

“Do you have no shame?” He growls into your ear. That word choice, however, was not at all what you expected. You gasp louder than you intend, hips bucking into the air as you clench your thighs. A couple moviegoers turn, their faces morphing in disgust or surprise once they see you squirming in his lap. They all whisper, some quickly averting their eyes while others enjoy the show. “Baby, look at what you’re doing.” He whispers as if he himself is appalled.

The shame comes crashing over you like a ton of bricks. Your face is red hot and you hide your face in his neck. Still, you don’t stop. Your relationship with Kun would’ve made you think you could never handle being humiliated, let alone be aroused by it. Your experience with him solidified that you thrived off of affection and unconditional love only. But with how wet you are around his cock, that can’t be right.

You whine, whimper, and groan as you fuck yourself on his cock. “I-I just wanna make you feel good.” You sob before a chorus of short, soft gasps erupt from your throat. You’re so close.

“I can’t believe you’re about to cum in front of all these strangers.” He keeps up his dismayed act, even as he lewdly rubs your clit. Pushing your thighs apart so he can vigorously stroke it from side to side. There’s no way most of the theater can’t hear how wet you are. “Is this who you are? My baby’s a filthy whore.” His voice wavers. His thrusts are more sporadic and you can tell he’s about to cum inside you in the theater. It’ll probably drip onto the seats.

“You’re really okay with me filling you up? Here? Baby…”

“No! W-we’ll make a mess-”

“But a girl like you is okay with that, right?”

“No… I’m a good girl.” You say almost inaudibly.

“Hm… okay, princess.” He says reassuringly. For a second you calm down, slowly grinding against him, ready to pull off and finish this later. The movie’s almost over anyway. Then Sicheng grips your hips harshly. His breath is erratic as he bucks into you. The lewd moan that sounds next to your ear tips you off to what’s about to happen. Before you could voice your protests, he fills you up, his skin slapping against yours loudly as he does. The shock brings you down from your high fast. You have that same feeling when he flipped your skirt up in your living room. 

Complete and utter embarrassment. And there was nothing sexy about it now. You gasp as you clench your legs together. You work fast to pull him out of you and fix your underwear. You stand up and whip around, inspecting the seat. He chuckles at you and you look at him in disbelief.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” As he speaks, his amusement diminishes and is replaced with that familiar brand of annoyance he gives you. You want to berate him, tell him how stupid it is that he doesn’t know what’s wrong. You want to storm out and catch an uber home. Then it hits you. You did this to yourself. 

Weren’t you just the one riding him where people could see? Continuing when you knew they were looking? As the memory of people reacting to you floods your brain, the shame racks through you like lightning. 

The lights come up and people in the theater start leaving their seats. To your horror, whistles and laughter start to fill the theater. You turn to see men making lewd gestures at you and clapping at you with debauched looks on their faces. The women either laugh at you or scowl at you in disgust. Your heart sinks as you watch them with dread in your eyes.

When you feel Sicheng’s arm around you, you shrink into him, wishing his figure could somehow cover you up completely. He walks you out of the auditorium without a word. The pit of your stomach feels like it’s squeezing and turning. You feel afraid to look at him. You make it all the way out of the theater with no words. Maybe he really does think you’re disgusting. You wished you could say you didn’t feel the same.

The moment he lets go of you to get in on the driver’s side you feel cold. You keep your head down as you enter the car. As the door shut you feel like you can’t breathe. What if he decides that after what happened he doesn’t want anything to do with you?

Midway into the drive, you gather the courage to slowly peek over at him. He has a smile on his face, one that you’d go out of your way to describe as satisfied. You exhale slowly and sink into your seat. He peers over at you.

“You were great today.”

You feel your heart swell, you eat up every ounce of praise. Even when you weren’t as vulnerable as you felt now. 

“I fucking love when you get all insecure and defensive.”

This time you don’t make an effort to stop your face from falling. He couldn’t just let you have it. Have one moment you could cherish with your dear boyfriend. And could he hear himself? How could anyone say those words to someone they’re supposed to care so deeply about? It’s so unlike you to question him, but you just need to know.

“Why?”

Maybe it was the utter confusion apparent in your voice that made Sicheng frown. “Why? I don’t know… It turns me on.” It was apparently his turn to be defensive now. 

Sicheng’s arm around you made you feel secure, safe from the scrutiny and nauseating attention that made you feel like grimy trash. Now that you know he enjoyed seeing you suffer through that, it tainted the memory for good. You weren’t secure at all. If any of those men made an effort to try something, would your negative reaction arouse him?

“How… How is that arousing?” You ask in disbelief. You didn’t want to fight, but this admission from him was warping everything you thought you knew about him.

“Babe.” He says, throwing your disbelief back at you. “Come on. Everyone has kinks. Maybe it’s a little weird, but most kinks are! Plus, it’s not like you didn’t know.”

You snap your head in his direction, frantic eyes taking in the way his eyes roll at your bewilderment. “What?! You did know!”

“Knew how?” You want to shout at him, but you can’t muster the strength.

“Our first time together, your first time, I was pretty candid about what I liked. I slut shamed you and you seemed to like it, so what’s the problem here?”

“That’s different! You calling me a slut in the privacy of my bedroom and you getting turned on by me experiencing genuine shame while being watched and judged by strangers is wildly different!” You finally build the courage to scream at him. His silence makes you immediately regret it. He just watches the road, letting you suffer in silence while you try to decipher what he’s thinking.

“I can’t understand why you’re screaming. I misjudged the situation and made a mistake. I don’t think I deserve to get reamed for that.” He muttered. This is the first time you’ve seen the annoyance overtake him. It makes the feeling that you're being unreasonable overtake you.

“I-I’m sorry-”

“We’re here.”

The car halts in front of your house. You didn’t know how to tell him or if you should, but you didn’t want to leave.

“Can…” You start, feeling hopeless before you even get the words out. You sigh and shut your eyes. “Can you come in with me.” You ask apprehensively. It’s clear through your voice that you already expect him to say no, but after you got it out of the way you felt a bit of relief. The thought of going upstairs and sleeping in a cold bed honestly scared you. Especially after your rollercoaster of emotions tonight. But that wasn’t going to happen. You were going to go up together and everything was going to be fine.

“No. You need some time to cool off.” 

His words linger in the air as a lump forms in your throat. The click of the door unlocking echoes in your mind. You sat on the end of your bed for hours, letting the TV play in the background so you felt less alone with your thoughts.

He’s angry at you. And it’s your fault. Your back started to ache from the awkward angle you sat in. More hours drag by as you lie on your bed and stare at the wall. What if he realizes you never deserved someone like him? Or if he never speaks to you again? You try to imagine your days without him and they feel empty and grey. 

It’s five a.m and you lug yourself to the bathroom. When you turn the light on you feel tears start to well. Look at you. This is what he’ll see when he looks back at photos of the two of you, deliberating on whether he should keep you around or not. Then he’d leave, and you’d be back to your old self.

What were you going to do?

-

Your dream was distressing enough. What stressed you out more was that you opened your eyes and someone was still yelling your name. Once you hear the loud knocks on your door, your eyes snap fully open. You stumble trying to step right into your slippers out of bed but push on. You recognize the voice by now. As you swing open the door all the worry that loomed over you immediately clears up.

“Sicheng, I’m so sorry.” You shout right out of the gate. 

“Where were you? I was calling and texting you all morning.” He looks upset, and maybe this was your brain on serotonin, but it seemed to be out of concern for you. 

“I was here, I uh… I slept in.” You don’t even bother checking the time or worrying about what you slept through. You’re just glad he didn’t leave you alone.

“Through your morning classes?” He asks skeptically.

“Yeah, missing one class isn’t the end of the world.” You shrug, still jittery from the high his presence gave you.

“You… weren’t with someone else?” He asks as he steps closer, looking down at you. You bite your lip and shake your head. 

“God, I’m so glad to see you.” The overwhelming urge to hug him takes over as you wrap your arms around his waist. He chuckles and kicks the door closed before hugging you back. You melt into his embrace.

That afternoon, the morning after, and the dawn of the next day you were all over each other. It felt like the beginning, when he would cover you in hickies and moan your name without actually having sex. Even now when you’re riding him like your life depends on it, he’s still managing to match your desperation. 

“You’re so good for me, gonna make me cum inside you again.” He mumbles against your lips as he squeezes your ass. He pulls you down hard, making his cock shoot deep inside you again. You fall forward onto his shoulder with a loud moan. Your hips kick forward and smear your combined fluids amongst both your upper thighs. Sicheng’s moans sound prettier than they’ve ever been. Your walls constricting around his shaft demonstrate just how much they’re affecting you. You’ve been grinding into his lap for two rounds now and you weren’t gonna keep it up for much longer. “My legs are getting tired.” You whine next to his ear. You hoped he’d just flip you around and take over, but you groan when he laughs.

“I know you have it in you. I can feel how turned on you are, just give it to me like I know you can.” He encourages mockingly, cooing and awing next to your ear. When you whimper he slaps your ass. It was harder than you expect and you hiss as the sting lingers. “Come on baby.” His voice deepens suddenly, making you squeeze again. Your hips stutter as you try to fight the exhaustion coming on. He tsks before sighing disappointedly. 

“You must be letting the slut out for someone else, huh?”

There goes that accusatory tone again. After what happened the night of the movie, you’ve felt less turned on by his taunting. You find yourself wondering if his affinity for your discomfort stops outside of sex.

You lean away, looking into his eyes with conviction and state loud and clear, “I’m not.”

He seems taken aback, but the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth suggests he’s still having fun. “Oh yeah? Your slutty pussy only gets wet for me?” He leans closer, goading you. You blindly fall for it.

“You're my boyfriend, why would I cheat on you?!” You raise your voice but he doesn’t flinch. His face is still close, in fact he gets closer. You think he’s gonna kiss you but he just continues this little game.

“Maybe I’m not enough to satisfy how loose you’ve become.” His straight face, save for the hint of disgust, made you feel he wasn’t just saying it because it turned him on. You couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not. The thought of disgusting him snuffed out your passion to challenge him. You didn’t want to drive him away. 

You might love him.

So you push aside your bruised ego and start riding him again. His face softens, lids lowering to watch you fuck yourself on him through his eyelashes.

-

“He was worried about me guys.” You beam, revealing the information as if it were grand. It was to you. Judging by their expressions, it wasn’t to them. 

“I would hope so. Your partner is supposed to care about you.” Aeri suggests carefully. You’re practically made of steel right now, so her words bounce right off of you. You’ve been through a lot these past two weeks. A lot of sex, and something new.

“Whatever, whatever. You know what else couples are supposed to do? Fight.”

“Just because he doesn’t fight with you doesn’t mean it’s a healthy relationship-”

“No, we didn’t fight before. We do now.” You bite your lip to contain your wide smile as you look at each girl. The three of them look at each other in curiosity before looking back at you.

“What do you fight about?” Yizhuo inquires, leaning forward. 

“Other men. Recently he’s been super worried about who I’m hanging out with. It all started after this small fight we had a couple of weeks ago. Do you think he’s worried I’ll move on?” You ask, but no one answers. They just silently pick at their small ceramic plates, light wind tossing their hair.

“I think I can understand why you think this is what love is,” Minjeong is downright clinical as she speaks to you. It bothers you. Is this because of what happened at Aeri’s house? “but that could easily be a sign that he’s possessive.”

“Or… that he doesn’t want you to find someone else to… you know.” Aeri interjects. You try to swallow down the sour taste in your mouth. “Because then he’d have to put effort into finding someone new.”

Yizhuo gasps, frail fingers covering her mouth as she looks at Aeri with concern. “The third stage. Jimin never said it.” You falter, eyes darting around the outdoor seating area. Maybe those words left a dent.

“I really don’t think that’s the case.” You don’t let the thought fester for a second. They just don’t get it. They don’t get him. “This salmon looks good though.” You dig into your food, ignoring the doubt emerging around you.

Sicheng doesn’t need anyone else and he damn sure doesn’t need to worry about your eyes wandering. You deliberated on how you could show him this. You already give him so much. The night after you both finished finals, you figured it out. Your one year anniversary was this summer and you wanted to shake things up a bit. You wanted him to relax and just let you take care of him. 

You were dressed in your prettiest baby blue lingerie. You layered a thin white robe over it so you could reveal yourself to him. You waited rather impatiently on the bed, fidgeting with anything you could get your hands on. He was late. Maybe he got busy. Maybe he didn’t care about your big surprise. 

Your ears perk up when you hear your front door open. You straighten out, settling into the sexy pose you practiced. When he calls your name you start to tremble with excitement. “In here!” You sing.

Sicheng slowly opens the door and immediately takes in your appearance. You take in his as well. His hair was actually styled. He usually went for a messy look and it looked great, but the way his hair was parted somewhat in the middle looked surprisingly better. He had a snazzy white collared shirt with long sleeves and a black pattern to match his black pants. 

“You look dressed up for something.” With sultry eyes, you make a show of checking him out. He smirks as he climbs over you onto the bed.

“I could say the same about you.” He says like he’s onto you. You crane your neck to brush your nose against his before capturing his lips. He starts raking his hands up your sides as he eagerly kisses you back. He pushes your robe up and freezes when he feels the fabric of your garter belt. “Oh?”

That wasn’t supposed to be how he found out, but you were getting lost in his lips. You pull away and slide from under his body. “There’s more to your outfit?” He raises his eyebrows. You settle onto your knees, tugging at your disheveled robe before readying your hands to untie it. 

“I wanted to do something special to show you that I’m yours.”

“Here, let me.” He reaches his hands forward but you turn away.

“You just lay back and let me take care of you.” You guide him to the back of your bed, pushing him lightly to lay his head on your pillows. You bite your lip as you straddle him. As you untie your robe and toss it away, you let your face express how aroused you were. How much you wanted to please him. 

His face is blank, the passion from moments ago suddenly missing. You reluctantly ignore that and grind down onto his crotch. “Tell me how you want it.” You say quietly as you unbutton his pants. Thinking back to your time with Kun, you thought it’d be impossible to do things like this. Aeri would talk about her experiences and the things she would do all the time. Each time, you couldn’t help but cringe at the thought of you doing any of that. Through getting to experience Sicheng, you opened up to the possibility of you being more sexual. 

You enjoy that feeling you get when you see him and know you’re about to have sex. That excitement coursing through your veins. The way your synapses fire when his skin touches yours. And the sex, you couldn’t get enough of it.

You loved sex. 

“I wanna show you how nasty I can get. Only for you.” You slip your hand under his boxers and fish for his cock. When you graze your hand over it, you realize it’s still soft. Not an ounce of life. He grabs your wrist and pulls your hand away.

“What are you doing?” 

Your face slowly loses its expression as he gawks at you. All of the reasoning you came up with was nowhere to be found. What are you doing? You stammer, unsure if you should explain yourself or apologize. He sighs annoyedly before moving you off his lap. The air suddenly feels cold and you wrap your arms around yourself. You can’t muster the strength to turn around and see what he’s doing, but you can hear his footsteps thudding toward the door.

From behind you, his voice sounds.

“I’m going out. My phone’s gonna be off so don’t call me.”

Followed by a dull click and then another. 

You scramble off the bed to find your robe. On the way, you pass a mirror and reluctantly look at it. Look at you. You looked ridiculous. Cheap. You snatch the robe from the ground and hurriedly wrap it around you. You try to ignore how vivid the feeling of your lingerie pinching your skin is. It scrapes against you, rough and suffocating. 

You lie on your bed and stare at the wall. He’ll call in the morning like he did last time.

-

The next day

He probably got drunk and now he’s hungover. Or he’s passed out at a frat house. You opt to let him call or text you first. Did how confident you were to please him scare him off? Taking into account how he gets turned on when he shames you, perhaps he has trouble unpacking eroticism. 

Whenever he texts you, you’re more than willing to talk about it. In the meantime, you have to focus on your slipping grades.

-

Two days later

You decide to text him since he’s probably embarrassed. Something about what you did triggered something complicated inside of him. You’re sure of it. 

___: hey, do you want to maybe talk?

He doesn’t answer for a few hours, but that’s okay. He’s probably thinking just as hard as you are. You’ll stay home for the day so you don’t miss it. College can wait.

-

One week later

You stare down at the blue lingerie in the garbage can. You’re so fucking stupid. Why did you think he would like that? You’ve slept with him enough times to know what he likes. When you’re demure, it turns him on. Of course he wouldn’t like this. Stupid.

___: I know I’ve texted you a bunch, but I just want to know if you’re okay

You pound your fist against your head, further disturbing your knotty nest. So stupid.

-

Two weeks later

___: was this you?

You attach a photo of the note that was slid under your door. That was a dumb question. Of course it wasn’t him. Your friends had been frantically trying to contact you since you dropped out. Today is your last day in this apartment and you blocked their numbers, they won’t be able to judge you anymore. This must be one of their sad attempts to get in contact.

“Are you about ready? The truck will be here soon.” Kun shouts from your kitchen, voice echoing through the empty apartment.

“One sec.” You shout back as you open the unlabelled envelope, retrieving the note inside. You unravel the paper to see just one sentence.

“You’re making a mistake getting back with Kun.”

There was only one person that came to mind. You had cut off your other friends, but when it comes to Jimin it was more than that. She was dead to you. You shred up the envelope and paper, unsteady hands causing stray pieces to fall to the floor.

“What was that?” Kun asks as he walks into the living room with another box. When you feel satisfied, you stuff the shreds into a nearby garbage bag. You clench your jaw and dust of your hands.

“Nothing.”

-

A month and a half later

“Come out and eat. Laying there all day is unproductive.” He doesn’t even bother waiting for your response, just shutting the door again and leaving you in the dark. Your body feels heavy. Each time you think you can’t cry anymore, you prove yourself wrong. You smelled like shit. The worst part?

You couldn’t bring yourself to care.

-

A month later

As you get ready for another godforsaken dinner party, you find yourself staring in the mirror. It’s a miracle Sicheng even noticed you in the first place. You should be grateful for the months he spared you. And you are. You have fond memories. Maybe other people don’t see them as that, but they are. 

You lower your makeup brush as you attempt to reminisce. You try to find a memory that doesn’t make your stomach turn. A memory that isn’t tainted with red flags, ones you picked up on but ignored for your own sake. 

Sniffling, you clench your eyes shut. There isn’t a single one. Even the okay ones were predecessors to a fight or sex. You’re not even sure which one is worse anymore.

-

A week and five days later

Maybe it was for the best. You and Kun have been through this. It didn’t work the first time, why would it work now? You haven’t tried in a while…

___: I broke up with Kun

You try again after he doesn’t answer.

___: I wasn’t very happy with him anyway

___: not like how I was with you

___: he doesn’t touch me

Oh he would hate you saying that. What, did he think after fucking more than you spoke to each other that you wouldn’t get accustomed to it?

___: you made me like this

___: you’re not even man enough to come to talk to me

___: or even text?

___: you’re fine with just ghosting me?

___: how do you live with yourself?

You hurriedly wipe away the tears that dropped on your screen. Did he change his number? If so, why isn’t the new owner letting you know you’ve got the wrong person? Your texts must be getting lost in the mountains of texts he gets daily. It’s the only explanation logical enough to placate your anxiety. You don’t actually think he’s capable of being so wicked, but you’re so angry you can’t think straight. Is it really that hard for him to speak to you? Fuck, you really wanna hear his voice.

___: I love you Sicheng

You admit to him and yourself. The admission sends you spiraling. You drop your phone to the floor with a loud bang and collapse. You sob loudly into your hands. Against your better judgment, you imagine you’re in his arms and he’s shushing you. You can’t even properly materialize the fantasy. You have no reference. 

In a moment of weakness, you think back to what Jimin told you, and what she failed to tell you. You knew good and well that finding out the third stage could hurt you even further. You’re scared of what that may entail. But you still search for the nearest payphone to your parent’s house. If you were her, you wouldn’t answer if you saw your name pop up. You type in her number and wait as it rings.

The ringing ceases and it’s quiet for just a moment. 

“Hello?” Jimin’s voice is gruff. You look at the time on your phone. You probably woke her up.

“Listen, I know I have no right to call you after the fight a month or so ago, but I just need to know.” You rush out as your voice trembles.

Jimin lets out a frustrated sigh. “Know what.”

“The third stage.” You say apprehensively. Jimin lets the conversation hang in silence long enough for you to realize you stopped breathing. Your heart beats in your ears as she clears her throat.

“Thought you found that out on your own already.”

“I… I didn’t-”

“He likes to watch women fall prisoner to lust, to watch as he chips away at their innocence. The problem is that once he chips it all away, there’s no putting it back.”

You feel like your body is physically rejecting her words. You shake your head, shaking loose all the tears welling in your eyes. “No that’s not true-”

“He got bored of you after you stopped behaving the way he wanted.” She says, frustration reaching its peak. Words fail to enter your brain. The silence only lasts a short while before Jimin hangs up the phone. 

You can’t stop yourself. You weren’t going to stop fretting over it until you know for sure. After you type in the next number you feel numb as it rings. You pray and pray that a stranger picks up. The ringing stops quicker than you expect. You hear music and a familiar laugh before an amused–

“Hello?”

You wait, registering his voice as he repeats himself and asks if someone is there. He mumbles something before the call cuts out. You turn and leave the dark alley, arms swinging limply by your sides. The head and taillights of cars that whiz by and stores that are still open light up your empty eyes. As you stare out into nothing, your phone buzzes. You slowly lift it into view, staring at the sole notification on your cracked screen.

Sichengie 💞: I don’t

➻ end of act ii

[phantomrose96]

Old Wounds

Danny’s secret is not a secret anymore.

The lines between Fenton and Phantom have long since blurred. And it’s a common occurrence for news reporters to trip over their tongue when flagging him down, mid-transformation, for a post-fight interview. “Phanton.” “Fentom.” So often that, to most now, he is just Danny.

When Danny wants upgrades to his gear, he comes to his mother. When Danny learns a quirky new element of Ghost Zone lore, he brings it to his father. When the Amity Park Ghost Alarm is raised, he’s first on the scene with the Fenton RV right on his non-corporeal heels.

When he’s injured, Danny comes only to his friends and sister.

Jazz notices the pattern. How it is only her, or only Sam, or only Tucker who receives the late-night knock at the window glass, with her brother on the other side, corny sheepish smile on display and arm or leg or shoulder held up in explanation.

Jazz notices how hushed Danny remains, day or night, when he comes to her for first aid. How he speaks in that same hesitant muted tone as he did when all of this was still a secret. How he quiets himself in the way injured prey animals do.

Jazz doesn’t feel it’s her place to ask. Not yet, at least. Eventually. But not yet.

The window is open. Honeysuckle-sweet gusts of late-spring air swirl through Jazz’s room and tease away the sheen of sweat that has collected on her brow. She cannot wipe it away herself, not with both hands meticulously occupied in tweezering out the singed fabric from her brother’s arm.

Danny winces, and hisses, and Jazz frees another thread from its embedded hold in Danny’s burn wound.

“It’s kind of like… summer vacation when we were kids and we’d get splinters visiting Aunt Alicia’s lake house,” Jazz remarks with another careful tug. “…If we can call it a lake house.”

“Lake shed,” Danny replies, grinning through the sweat shining on his pale face. “And I think every part of that dock was an OSHA violation.” He laughs through another wince.

“Dad was the king of tweezers. I think he got out every splinter that dock ever gave me.” Jazz pauses. “I wonder why that was. Think it’s the needlepoint?”

“It’s definitely the needlepoint,” Danny agrees.

Jazz hesitates on the question lingering behind her tongue. Just a little too long. Just a little too obviously.

“What?” Danny asks.

Jazz’s hand falters. She puts the tweezers down. “Danny, I will always always be happy to help you like this. Same goes for Sam, same goes for Tucker, I know. I’m positive. But I wonder why… not Mom or Dad?” Jazz eyes the tweezers, glinting in the moonlight. “I’m just… I’m thinking how much cleaner this might be if you got Dad to do it. And Mom’s got like, wilderness survival level first aid expertise. I can’t help thinking I’m hurting you more by it being… me, you know?”

Danny looks at her, and looks past her a moment. His grin slips a fraction into discomfort as his eyes leave hers. “Maybe I just like the excuse to invade your room.”

“Danny…” Jazz waits until he looks at her again. “Are you afraid they’ll make you stop if they realize you’re getting injured?”

Danny lets out a puff of air from behind his lips. “No, never. I mean, maybe if I got really really injured they’d say something. But just getting a little roughed up? I think it’s about on par with a kid coming home from football practice with a few scrapes, at least, in their eyes. They get more banged up than me these days. I’m not worried.”

Jazz reaches for the bottle of disinfectant. She unscrews the cap to a biting alcohol smell. “…So will you tell me why?”

“Why what?”

“Why you won’t ever go to them with injuries? Ever?”

Cotton swab, pure silver under the moonlight. Jazz douses it gently, a muted glug-glug from the bottle.

“…I’m that obvious about it, huh?”

“You’re obvious about most things. This’ll be cold.” Jazz applies the swab to the open wound, and Danny hisses in turn.

“Yeah. Cold. And stingy. Cold and stingy.” After a few seconds, the tension eases out of Danny’s body. He droops a little, shoulders slumped, and Jazz pulls the cotton swab away.

“Are you ashamed of your injuries?”

“No.”

“Are you worried Mom and Dad’ll make them worse?”

“Nah. You said it yourself, those two are weird, unconventional medical experts.”

“Then why not?”

A beat of silence follows. A moment of trepidation. Awash in moonlight, Danny looks up at her, and the glow in his green eyes has a life of its own. “I don’t want them to see the injuries that have already healed.”

“Why would that be a problem?” Jazz looks again. Danny’s suit covers most everything, save now for the one sleeve that’s been rolled back. She sees what she already knew was there – what isn’t obvious to the eye not searching – threads of white ridges, puckers of skin, a faded rashy texture of what had once been an ectoblast burn. Old injuries. Long healed. Faded and fading further. “Those are all healed now. Just some scars, right…?”

Danny hesitates.

“I don’t want them to figure out how many of those scars they caused.”

A gust of wind steals the antiseptic smell from the room. Jazz sits with the silence. She thinks, and she processes.

“Oh…”

Danny straightens. “They kind of… live in this world where hunting ghosts is all fun and games, you know? Like it’s a sport, like they can just get into go-mode and jump into the fun. I don’t think they’ve figured out yet that they can—could—did …cause damage.”

Danny adjusts himself on Jazz’s bed, one leg pulled up, body angled to face her directly. He doesn’t let his eye contact wander now. “They both apologized. Definitely. Like that definitely happened, back at the start of this. But it was kind of like ‘We must’ve given you so much trouble Danny! How’d you come home every day and not bite our heads off over that?’ Like. Again. Like it’s a game. Like they’d been knocking my chess pieces over for a year and not—”

Danny falters. He raises his uninjured arm and tucks the hair away from his face. “And I don’t… want it to click for them. What I have right now with Mom and Dad is so nice… It’s so much better than I even imagined. I want it to stay like this. Forever, if possible.”

“Danny…”

“And even that actually—maybe I’m actually wrong about that. Completely wrong. About their reaction, I mean. It’s possible maybe they’d see everything and just go,” Danny deepens his voice, “‘Wow! We did a number on you, huh? Man Danny I don’t know how you didn’t just smack us over the breakfast table every morning.’ you know? Like that. Like this was all just always a game. And they—and I-- …I like how relaxed ghost hunting is with them. I actually like that it feels like a game. I don’t ever want to go back to feeling how scared and afraid and unsafe and hurt I was that first year. ...But I’m afraid of how it would feel to know that maybe they’d see that, look at it all, everything they did and the scars like the actual proof and it—if it wouldn't ever be real to them. If they'd never get that it was like that. If they still wouldn’t realize—you know? That they—if they—I don’t uh…” Danny drops his eyes, and he shrinks in on himself. “I don’t know how to explain it…”

“No I—Danny I know what you’re saying. Don’t worry. Danny, I—”

“Either answer. Any answer. I don’t want to know… I don’t actually want to know.” Danny angles himself away again, feet dropped over the side of Jazz’s bed, staring down at the hands in his lap. “If it would horrify them, then I’d be ruining all the good things I have with them right now. And if it wouldn’t horrify them—” Danny falls quiet. The breeze has stilled. The room is colder now. “…then I think I just don’t ever want to know.”

Jazz nods, and nods harder.

“I get it. I get it. That’s a good enough answer for me, Danny, I promise. I’m your first aid person, okay? I won’t ask again. Thanks for… thanks for telling me, Danny.”

"Can always trust you to bring up the difficult conversations huh? Of course that's always been your thing. Talking to you is--well I'd say it's like pulling teeth, but maybe it's more like pulling ecto-demolished hazmat suit fabric out of a burn wound."

Danny offers a sheepish grin - it's an olive branch, a request to lighten the mood. Jazz meets it with her own small grin that does not touch her eyes.

"Yeah yeah, I'm your older sister. It's my job to be a pain. Now sit still, I need to be more of a pain if we're gonna de-hazmat suit your injury."

She picks the tweezers back up. The silence rings with an echo in her head now. Jazz focuses her attention back on her task, and she finds something she was wrong about before:

There is nothing faded about the scars that web up and down her little brother’s arm. They are stark streaks of lightning, glowing silver under the moonlight. And Jazz wonders how many others—how many that flaked away and melded back with healthy skin—how many of those might still be living, lingering, a permanent part of her little brother, buried well beneath the surface…

[yandere-sins]

Hiii, it's my first time here !! I wonder if you could ask my question, if possible of course of Yandere Geralt of Rivia...

Imagine a scenario where the reader is from our world and went to Geralt's world, then the reader find him at him and tells his story and asks for help to return to his home... Of course, as time goes by, Geralt becomes "sick with love " for the reader to the point of becoming Yandere.

Note: the reader sees Geralt as best friend or older brother.

Thanks for your request ♥

»»———————— ♡ ————————««     

You were simply relieved you weren’t alone. 

There were a lot of terrible things that could happen to you, reaching from being mauled by a monster to cut down by a sword, and so, so many gruesome things more. Whatever Geralt saw in you, you were glad it didn’t make him leave you alone to your misery, no matter how strange you were.

Truthfully, you weren’t even a good choice as a squire, but aside from grumbling about your unhelpfulness when it came to battle, Geralt hadn’t driven you away. Despite being rough around the edges, he truly was the hero you needed in your predicament, and for that, you were thankful. 

Whatever you could do, you did, may it be fetching water or helping set up a tent. While the life of a traveling witcher was nothing you wished to pursue forever, you put up with everything you could so that you wouldn’t end up on your own again. The first week spent stumbling through the wild and running from monsters had been enough bad experience in this world for you. Now, your mind was only on one thing: Getting home.

It probably was a luxury to have Geralt’s help in not dying and achieving your goal, but all the more, you were relieved that whatever power made you fall into this strange world had enough mercy to send you this angel of a man. No matter how many dirty, uncomfortable looks you got for being with him whenever you two came into a town, you would endure them, knowing Geralt was the key to make this situation just a memory and send you back home to your family.

Home. It sounded heavenly. 

You sighed deeply, slowly awaking from your slumber. It couldn’t have been long that you fell asleep, the campfire still burning lively next to you. You still felt tired, but something was different than usual. Heavy even.

Pulling down the blanket you had wrapped yourself with, you saw the big arm laying around you, making you realized the heat of a second body in your back. Geralt never slept closer than necessary to you, but without the need to guess, he was definitely sleeping right beside you, spooning you from behind. 

With a flushing heat rising to your face, you were too embarrassed to say anything, even though his arm alone was too heavy to fall asleep with again. He might have accidentally fallen asleep next to you after having some drinks before bed and mistaken you for someone to cuddle up to. But waking him wasn’t an option. Geralt struggled with his sleep enough as it is; you wouldn’t dare to interrupt him and cause a scene. But the reality was very different from what you assumed. 

You heard him take a deep breath as he buried his face into the nape of your neck, not shy to pull away the fabric covering you and pushing his face into your skin. As you listened to him mutter your name, you felt a cold shudder run down your spine, but you tried not to make him notice you were awake. “[Name], [Name], [Name]...” he mumbled, and you bit your lip. The way he said your name always made it sound reproachful, despite you not remembering what you did wrong that day. 

“Look at you, letting your guard down. Don’t you know that I...”

His voice trailed off as you felt him shift suddenly. You reacted quickly, pretending to be fast asleep with your eyes closed and lips slightly parted innocently. Geralt let out a small chuckle before you felt him reach over you, dragging his thumb over your lip. “What are you dreaming about? Your heart is racing.”

Realizing you forgot the first thing about Witcher - their heightened senses - you didn’t know how to help yourself other than stirring a little in your sleep, putting on a frown. Sure enough, that made him halt in his tracks and back away a little, as if he feared you waking up. Only when you settled down again did Geralt relax as well, returning to his spooning position. 

“Seriously...” he kept muttering. “How am I supposed to go on like this? Every time we meet a Sorceress, I am afraid she will have a way to send you home.”

Something about his words gave you a sad impression. Almost as if parting would hurt him, but you weren’t sure if this was just your impression or if the tiny bit of his past that he told you about actually gave him this fear. In your eyes, Geralt was fearless and kept his composure no matter what, but what if you had misjudged him?

“I’d like to keep you all to myself. Lock you up and never let you go. Maybe when we get to Kaer Morhen, I could--”

This time, his voice halted suddenly, and he rose again from behind you. “Are you awake?” he asked, quiet still as if he was hoping you were asleep after all. You simply remained in your pretend sleep, taking an audible breather and hoping it would fool him. He remained in this careful stiffness for a while before he finally drew back. Immediately, you were surrounded by the chilly air of the night as his body disappeared, but before you dared to attempt to move around, you heard more of his mumbles.

“No, I can’t. I shouldn’t... It’s not right...”

What couldn’t he do?

You were ready to blame all the gibberish you had just heard on the mead you two had before bed, but the questions didn’t seem to stop circling your mind. Geralt seemed to fall asleep somewhere a bit further away, while you felt wide awake now. You couldn’t believe that Geralt - of all people! - could have developed any kind of feelings for you. But why else would he be worried about your return? Why would he say those things about locking you up?

Way too freaked out, you tried to make sense of what you had witnessed. Certainly, he didn’t want you to be awake as it went down, but now that you knew, you were left conflicted. Part of you kept getting goosebumps as you remembered the feeling of his face pressed into your shoulder and his words echoing in your ear. The other part tried to justify it with any and all reasons like the alcohol, loneliness maybe. There was no sleep for you after all, and Geralt kept stealing irritated glances at you the following day until he finally asked, “Are you okay?” 

You flinched after being suddenly addressed, not even your exhaustion able to tear you out of your thoughts that still pondered about the last night. “Oh, yeah! I’m fine,” you tried to assure him, and he contemplated your response for a bit before replying, “There’s this place we should go to next. Maybe we can find some books on portals there.”

“Sounds good,” you chuckled. Nervosity spread inside of you as you hoped he didn’t mean the place that he was talking about last night. 

“I grew up there. You might even be able to sleep in a bed for a change. Kaer Morhen is also safe and...”

After that part, your mind simply shut off as the word kept repeating over and over in your head. Kaer Morhen. Kaer Morhen. Kaer Morhen. Kaer Morhen.

Kaer Morhen, lock up, never let go.

“...and it isn’t far from here,” he finished his explanation, looking at you as he waited for an answer while you could feel the horror showing in your expression. The red flags were so abundantly clear by now, but you absolutely refused to think this way about him. He wasn’t a bad man, he would never... or?

There were a lot of terrible things that could have happened to you on this journey, but you had put all your trust into Geralt to keep you safe. To help you. To be a companion so you wouldn’t be lonely. And until the end, you hoped Geralt wouldn’t turn out to be the monster or the sword you feared so much.

But who could tell what he’d do when he finally had a taste of living out the things he desired?

[atpaftmoom-bily]

Thoughts about Erik, why Wilhelm wasn't allowed to come out, and more.

Be warned, this is long, confusing, and I'm not even sure if I made any valid points. But I had thoughts on Young Royals, with no one to talk to, so here you go.

I've seen various different takes on Erik and what people thought his reaction would have been if Willie had come out to him, most of them being positive, and some as well saying how sad it was that Willie never got to come out to his brother. I have a different take, but bear with me it's gonna take a second to get there.

Something that I found interesting in the first place was that when August found out it was Simon and not a girl, he just seemed shocked, but not in a homophobic way that I had kind of been expecting.

Additionally, let's take a look at the comments on the video, I've split them up into three different groups. General comments (disbelief, surprise, pity, etc.), comments sexualizing them, and negative comments. (I've translated these as well as I could as they were not all captioned, but if I've made a mistake feel free to let me know!)

General Comments "OMG Have you seen this?? The Prince is gay!!!!" "Who's the other guy?" "I'm dead" "Finally some news to put Sweden on the map!" "Poor boys, I feel sorry for them" "So clumsy to get caught on film" "I know where he lives!" "I think the video is fake" "Love for the boys"

Sexualizing Comments "Royal porn" "Sexy" "Love" "Sexiest video ever"

Negative Comments "How will the monarchy survive this?" "The end of the royal family, time for Sweden to become a republic!" "Never been ashamed about being Swedish until now" "Class traitor! Your mother cries for your sins"

Now, there are quite a few things I want to point out about Sweden that I feel should be taken into account here. Of course, we don't know the exact dates that the show took place, but we do know it is modern-day, and though it is a work of fiction, I am going to assume that anything that is currently true in Sweden at the moment, give or take a few years, would also be true in the Young Royals universe.

The first point I would like to make is that Sweden is one of the most LGBT-friendly countries, even being named the most friendly country in 2019. Looking back in history, 1944 was when Sweden decriminalized sexual relationships between consenting adults of the same sex, though it was still thought to be an illness. However, in 1979 it was no longer considered an illness. Fun unrelated fact, but Sweden was the first country to legalize gender change in 1979. (If you'd like to read more on LGBT rights in Sweden here are some resources. One. Two.) If Sweden is that progressive and is that LGBT-friendly, then I wondered what the problem was with Willie coming out, so I dug some more.

I'm American, so my understanding of many parts of the world is unfortunately skewed or incomplete, but I'm working on changing that. However, because of this, one thing that surprised me in my research was that the monarchy in Sweden is more of a unifying symbol than anything else. They have no political affinity or formal powers, but rather "the King’s duties are mainly of a ceremonial and representative nature." Of course in the case of Young Royals, the Queen inherited the throne, and Wilhelm would after her.

Something else I found interesting about the monarchy in Sweden is that the current Queen, Queen Silvia, did not come from a line of nobility, so when Queen Silvia and King Carl Gustaf married in 1976, it was highly unusual. (See more on the Swedish monarchy here.)

There is one last thing I want to point out about the current King and Queen. "In summer 2000, King Carl XVI Gustaf and Queen Silvia of Sweden made history when they ate under the rainbow flag at Djurgårdsterrassen, a Stockholm restaurant owned by gay owner Arto Winter. At that time, the decision was seen as controversial, and played a valuable role in moving conversations forward – while making the royals’ position abundantly clear." (Source)

Now, of course, I understand the difference between a fictional work and real-life situations, but at least in my opinion, these same ideals should carry through to the show that we see. If the King and Queen in real life have been openly supportive of the LGBT community since at least 2000, then although specifics might not be the same, some of those ideals should carry through to Young Royals, so what is the problem, right?

I'm not trying to erase the reality of homophobia altogether, because of course, that exists. We even see in the show through comments that there are some people who are worried about the state of the monarchy, are disgusted, or downright still think that not being straight is a sin, but we also see other comments as well. If Wilhelm were to come out, what would happen? Would there be some backlash? 100%. Would there be people who would support him? Also 100%. Would it make his life harder? Probably, but would he be happier? In my opinion, yes, but I guess that's a question that Wilhelm would have to gauge on his own.

Now I want to look deeper at the conversation that Wille has with his mother, the Queen, in the car on the way home so he can give a statement to the media. Below is an excerpt from their dialogue.

---

Wilhelm: Why can't I just have a relationship with him? And not say anything. Just live a normal life.

Queen: You're the crown prince. And that's a privilege, not a punishment.

Wilhelm: Yes, but I didn't ask for this!

Queen: Well, nobody has ever, ever asked for this! You are the only one who can take over the throne after Erik. Don't you understand that? You are so young. When you're young, love feels like the most important thing in the whole world. When I was your age, I too had an unfortunate romance. That was before I met your father. What I mean is, is it worth it? If you feel that the attention you've been getting so far is unacceptable, it's nothing compared to what you will endure for the rest of your life. We have a chance to cover this up, I urge you to take that chance. You may not get another."

---

Something I find interesting is how much Willie just wants to live a normal life, which I get. He is under so much pressure, from being a role model, his brother's death that he hasn't even had time to process, preparing to be king someday, and (kind of) being outed to the entire world, but at least his school. It's enough to make anyone want to live normally. I think the biggest thing we have to think about here is the Queen's question as well. Is it worth it? She is right of course, the attention he will get will always be there, but I do think that Willie would be able to find a way to be happy along with being King. It shouldn't have to be a case of either-or, and ultimately I don't think it is.

Now I'm going to move back to Erik, and really, this ties everything back to the start where I mentioned I had a different take on Erik's reaction to Willie being not straight. I think that Erik already knew. It would make sense for a variety of reasons. In the show, it is obvious that the two of them have a good relationship. We also hear Erik tell Willie, "you can trust him, he's like a brother," in episode one when speaking about August, showing that trust is something strong between them as brothers. I'm not exactly sure how old Wilhelm is meant to be in the show, but I estimate somewhere around sixteen. I would like to assume that sometime before attending Hillerska, he may have had a crush or felt some attraction to a guy. We also can see from their phone call in episode three, that they're not afraid to joke around with each other about such things, meaning that Erik would most likely be the first person that Willie would go to about such things.

Another thing that makes me believe Erik already knew has to do with people assuming that Simon is the first guy that Willie has liked. Now, I know things are not the same for everyone, but if we consider what happens when the video is posted, and Willie had to deny it is him, we can conclude that being anything other than straight in their family is not okay, simply because they are royals, and the media attention will be too much. Imagine you've known your whole life, you can't be something, the first instance you encounter that, you're probably not going to give in right away. I'm talking at least some minor internalized homophobia here or something.

So put that into the context of Simon and Willie's first kiss in episode two. Simon kisses Willie twice before Willie says "Well, I'm not... I'm not... Stop! Wait, wait, wait!" and immediately pulls Simon back towards him. Let's reflect back to episode one where Willie says "I’m not… I’m not allowed to speak about political issues." I'm not allowed. Of course, there are TONS of restrictions on what he can and can not do, kissing guys, probably being one of them. But if he was going to say I'm not gay or I'm not like that, why would he instantly pull him back in, contrasting what he was just going to say. In episode three, Willie does say, "I'm not like that," which makes sense. He's had time to think and isn't in the heat of the moment. What other explanation can he give? Sure, he could say he's not allowed to be like that but saying that would admit that he is. It's a circle, a very messy circle, but it is a... loop.

Going back to what I'm supposed to be talking about here, Erik. This isn't Willie's first rodeo, but Erik was there for the first. One last thing I want to talk about is the phone call that Erik and Willie have in episode three. Below is an excerpt from their dialogue.

---

Erik: You've met someone.

Wilhelm: I, uh... Yes, okay, but I... I don't think we're a couple or anything. I don't know what it is but can we just...

Erik: I get it. I get it. You don't have to tell me any... I don't wanna hear any details. Hey. Willie, enjoy yourself. Soon enough people will start having opinions and-

Wilhelm: They don't care about me. 'Cause you're the Crown Prince that they have opinions.

Erik: I don't get it. Why are you sitting in your room sulking when you have a crush to hang out with?

---

Firstly, Erik refers to Willie's crush as completely gender-neutral. "You've met someone" could very easily be "you've met a girl". The same goes for "you have a crush to hang out with". Very well could have been "you have a girl to hang out with". Sure, it could be completely coincidental, but we live in such a heteronormative society that it would just make sense for Erik to use female-gendered words. Unless, of course, he knew.

Secondly, "Hey. Willie, enjoy yourself. Soon enough people will start having opinions". This sounds very much to me like, enjoy your time while you can be yourself without backlash because soon you won't have that privacy. While I feel that, yes, the same may happen with anyone Willie was to date, him having a same-sex partner multiplies that, by a lot.

In conclusion, Erik knew Willie was not straight, Willie should come out, but when he is ready, and August is a really deep character that people don't give enough credit to. Gosh, I hope I covered everything, I probably forgot so much, but it's fine. Please let me know your thoughts if you've made it this far into the post.

One last thing. I hope you'll notice how in this post, I never referred specifically to Wilhelm's sexuality, and I did that for a reason. I often see gay used to label him, and though I am unsure if that's being used as an umbrella term or specifically as in he only likes men, I think it's really important to realize that they're specifically making him unlabeled. In this youtube video Edvin Ryding, the actor who plays Wilhelm, says "What we're trying to do... We're not labeling Wilhelm's sexuality. I think that's good because it's like, it portrays that it's okay that way too. You don't have to. You shouldn't have to come out. It should be allowed to be a bit fluid, a bit out there." I just think that it is important as it's another type of representation that is not seen often.

[3raaaachachacha]

10:30 pm

Lee Chan x female reader / 515 words / fluff

Warnings: none

⊱ ──────────────────────── ⊰

There weren’t many days where you were able to just take a deep breath and relax with your boyfriend. He was busy with work and you were busy with finishing college. It wasn’t the most ideal situation, especially at your prime age to explore and adventure into the world, but you still had responsibilities to take care of first. Chan was more than thankful for your understanding mindset since being in an idol group wasn’t the easiest job while maintaining a relationship.

So whenever there was a free night to just be with one another, regardless if there were plans or not, you took the opportunity. You walked hand-in-hand with your boyfriend down the busy streets of Hongdae as you took in the sight of people on their ways to clubs, bars, and street vendors. You smiled to yourself loving how peaceful you felt, even on a Friday at the busiest time of night.

“Isn’t it crazy how many people are out right now? It’s busier than usual,” Chan said, walking towards a cafe to grab a snack.

“I think they had a festival tonight. It makes sense as to why so many people are dressed up,” You smiled at him before letting his hand go, so he could grab your drinks. You took a seat outside the cafe to continue watching the groups of people chatting away.

Chan quickly returned, sitting down next to you before throwing his arm around your shoulder to bring you into his side, “There are a lot of foreigners around. It’s nice to see.”

“What do you think that group's story is?” You asked Chan as you subtly pointed at the group of Americans, only assuming this since they wore the American flag on their clothing.

“They keep looking at that group of girls over there,” Chan gestured carefully, “So I would assume that they are wanting to ask them about where a good restaurant or bar is. That’s usually how foreign men ask women out.”

You giggled at his explanation, “And how would you know?” Giving him a teasing death glare.

“I have four foreign members in my group, two being from the US. I get curious, okay love?” Chan chuckled, realizing you were teasing him halfway through his explanation.

“Now I’m curious about their lives. I wonder how Jun and Minghao were when they moved here,” You pondered, eyes wondering to another group of girls giggling about something on their phones.

“They kept to themselves mostly, those two are pretty shy for the most part,” He stated, taking a sip of his drink while looking around for any other interesting groups.

“What do you mean those boys aren’t even remotely shy? They never shut up whenever I see them!” You exclaimed while giggling.

“All the boys are comfortable around you and love you, so count yourself lucky,” Chan said with a small grin, “Come on, let’s walk around a bit more,” He stood up, taking your hand in his again as the two of you walked towards the groups of people to eavesdrop on their interesting conversations.

⊱ ──────────────────────── ⊰

- Admin 🦋

[hopefullystillatheatrestudent]

i'm so excited about you taking asks again ahhhh okay so. if you'd absolutely had to choose. what would be your top 5 cockles moments, and why? thank you ily <3

here’s the thing: there are so many routes i could go down with this, because cockles moments come in all shapes and sizes and formats. these include moments from their panels, their bloopers, the footage we get when they don’t even know they’re being recorded, stories being passed down from photo ops & autographs(one of my personal favorite ways to get cockles, tbh, because they’re all insane), and social media(tweets to each other, instagram posts & comments, etc.). 

SO! since many a list like this has already been made, and i want to stand out from the crowd, what i’m gonna do is definitively give the number one spot to each of these five categories.(i might even throw in honourable mentions because they’re so despicably in love that they warrant that. i really put my whole pussy into this, guys, i hope you’re happy.) 

disclaimer: these are my own personal opinions. but that also means i’m right. so. enjoy. 

number one: top cockles panel moment

so we’re starting off with a bang, because how do you even BEGIN to rank what atrocities jensen and misha commit at jibcon. every single one they’ve had is damning in it’s own right, for different reasons.

however, considering just how much unabashed fuckery they’ve given us to sift through, it’s a good thing i do have a personal favorite despite it all. it’s heartwarming, the sweetest thing i’ve ever seen, AND it’s jarringly cinematic - mainly because it has a whole ass arc to it that was years in the making. it might even be surprising to some people, but my favorite cockles panel moment, and what i consider the one that encompasses their entire gut-wrenching journey from 2008-2013 in the most sweepingly romantic gesture possible, is this one.

i want this burned into my retinas. i am not even joking. when i'm through with my explanation, let me convince you why this is thee most romantic cockles moment of all time.

first, some history: people call this the resume off, but many seem to forget the botched attempt at a resume off a year prior. and yes, you guessed it: it's during their break up. it's a juicy time period for a reason, guys. it came across as exceedingly one-sided and VERY awkward. let me refresh your memory as to just how bad it was, and just how hard jensen was trying and ultimately failing at winning misha over: the funniest part of the whole resume off in 2013??? every joke/bit had literally already been made/done. they were just going through the motions again, but the difference THIS time...is that misha reciprocated jensen's energy. it. is. fascinating. i want to get into it more detail in another post, and i'll link it here when i'm done, but the main takeaway, i think, and the main difference that showcases how much they've grown in a year, is that in jib 3, misha flat out refused to do an accent, and this time around, he indulges jensen for literal minutes. when i tell you they're crazy, they're crazy. i can't wait to actually dive into it later.

ANYWAY, the resume off culminates in this moment here. and, like, a million things happen in this gifset. actually, more like a million and one. the music starts playingneediremindyouthatthesongissingingintherain(h e l p), misha starts dancing, jensen 'perpetually fake grumpy' ackles lets misha think he's not going to join, misha sits down defeated, but no!!! that was jensen's plan all along(look at his stupid fucking smirk) and he offers his arm to his dance partner who immediately grins like a fool, jensen then leads misha into their kick step, they perfectly synchronise and let loose, and are then very clearly having the time of their lives, hanging off of each other with joy and ease. from their expressions alone i can tell that this moment is so. so. so. so! much more than what initially meets the eye. i mean-misha is fighting back the biggest smile i've ever seen. to me, it reads like jensen is offering something to misha, something that misha kind of gave up on expecting, and him offering his arm like that is like, a surprise to him in the best possible way(and it's so not platonic, let me just say that.) as soon as jensen did that, it ushered in a new era of cockles. this panel is jensen and misha's favourite for a reason, and i think this moment is the biggest clue as to why.

whew!!! ok. that took a lot out of me and that was only point one. moving on,

number two: top cockles blooper moment

cockles bloopers hold an extremely special place in my heart, because it shows just how fucking disastrous jensen and misha are. they are so goddamn infatuated with each other that they HOLD UP PRODUCTION ALL THE TIME TO FLIRT WITH EACH OTHER(???). let me repeat. let it sink in. jensen ackles; arguably one of the most professional actors on that show who puts everything he has into each scene, with mountains and mountains of notes to prove it: would rather hold up production to flirt with misha collins. this sounds fake. it's not. he does it. all. the. time. and here's the thing guys!!! i'm gonna let you in on a secret!!! misha loves it. he loveesssss it. on top of that-misha collins: overlooked because he's pranked and people assume he's unprofessional as well, but his only pranks are in retaliation/off-set, and he rarely if EVER causes problems if he can help it....lets himself get carried away when it comes to jensen making kissy faces at him!!! are you actually kidding me!!! i mean. misha. it's just a face. you've seen it a million times. i don't buy that it triggers something in you that strongly....you like it, and you like jensen's reaction. you can't fool me!!! lisa berry's face in that one gifset shows just how fed up the crew is with their gross, coupley boyfriend antics.

i could pull up so many examples. sooooooo many. but my favourite was sealed since the moment i saw it.

i actually already wrote an analysis on it but i can't find it :(((( which SUCKS because i really unpacked the whole thing. i'll try to summarise.

basically, a backstory is part of this too!!! jensen and misha both had a really really hard time with this scene(because it's explicitly romantic there i said it), they sat down for hours and poured over their scripts together, they were super super nervous going into filming, both of them, jensen especially, were super hard on themselves for their performances not being true to their characters but they both complimented the other's work(boyfriend moments fr). so, yeah. they weren't confident going into shooting. and how do they get themselves to feel better???? by cuddling each other, apparently.

a lot. a LOT. happens in this specific blooper. to the point that i saw it years before i knew about cockles and it raised all sorts of flags for me.

1) stop pulling my face towards your crotch(as a thinly veiled request that misha would, in fact, move jensen's face towards his crotch, considering it was jensen moving himself there in the first place. also, why so comfy down there guys???) 2) you're my baby daddy i know(in the most intimate voice i've ever heard please) 3) i know, i know, i love you too i didn't say i love you i know but you wanted to say it etc. misha's right, of course. that's what jensen meant.

it just reeks of comfort, familiarity and intimacy between the two, and it's a moment that is extremely sweet and silly at the same time. they're so <3

number three: top cockles found footage moment

WONDERFUL category. truly the culmination of the cockles experience. many people have said that shipping cockles doesn't work because 'they're just onstage you dummies!! they're playing it up for the audience!!!' here's the thing, love. i could not disagree with you more. once you climb your way up the cockles ladder, you soon learn that they are, in fact, playing their dynamic DOWN, not up. they really are just Like That™, and they could not care less about the paying audience, if we're being honest, considering how much time they take to giggle with each other and refuse to let the audience in on the joke. and i love them for it <3

anyway, my point is that this category is for all you naysayers out there, all you 'jensen and misha's relationship is just for show and is real life queerbaiting'(?????lordhelp???) oh yeah? ok, explain this.

he. he. he calls jensen sweetheart. literally enough said. there's nothing to really add here, except, misha and jared then immediately engage in damage control. jared's method is distraction and misha's is retconning('get out of the car, dude') this was what got me to buy into the cockles dumpster for GOOD good. you don't call your buddy sweetheart accidentally and sound so completely earnest while doing it! especially not when that buddy is jensen ackles!!! you think he would let any of his friends call him that? do you?

one more thing; if it was a slip of the tongue, little mouth thing or whatever, you think jared wouldn't have jumped on it immediately??? i can hear it now. 'did you just call him SWEETHEART???' yeah. that's what i thought. you know why he didn't? because it was too revealing.

number four: top cockles autograph moment

i mean, i think we all know what it's gonna be, and if you don't, well, do i have the piece de cockles resistance that is gonna send you over the edge.

if you haven't heard of this story by now, as a cockles, truther, i'm gonna go ahead and get you to read it, because there is no possible heterosexual explanation for any of it, and you're fooling yourself if you think otherwise.

spoiler alert: it's the story where phones weren't allowed in an auto session, jensen nuzzles himself in misha's hair, leans his full body weight onto him, holds his hand, etc. etc. i'm imploding just repeating this back, actually. also, just, the sheer amount of stories from photo ops where they tackle hug each other or slap each other's asses or sing romantic songs to each other or almost kiss is, frankly, a lot. if i could wish for anything, it would be to witness them in person.

and finally,

number five: top cockles social media moment

this one is super difficult, because there's obviously a lot to choose from. but you know what? full send, i'm going with this one:

i just. what to say about this. how often do misha and jensen watch sunsets together for it to qualify as ‘always’ ??? why are sunsets synonymous with their relationship??? that’s like??? a very romantic thing????? ‘this guy’??? the fact that it’s a CANDID??? i don’t know guys.

that could have been better but i am TIRED so. there you go rose ily

[azaleavi]

Baby, show me what it's like - Y.B.

Summary: Dancing with a stranger at a party doesn’t seem like a bad idea. That is until it turns out she is the leader of a motorcycle club.

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, kissing, dancing with a stranger

Author’s note: I don’t really have anything to say lol please let me know what you think about this!

Feedback is always appreciated and don’t forget to reblog and like if you enjoyed it and want to see more. Thank you!

Masterlist

The music blasting in the small space shook your whole body as you walked through the crowd following your friends. They dragged you out to party because - in their words - you needed to find someone to take the stress out of your body. College has been hard on you in the last couple of weeks as you had exams after assignments. You were stressed at the time, but since everything has been done you felt fine.

But now you are here at a club that is overstuffed with people. You reach the bar where your friends are already waiting for you. They already ordered way too many shots for you and you feel your stomach turn at the thought of all the alcohol they will make you drink. You want to have fun so you grab the shot glass closest to you and drown it in one shot. They all cheer at your action so you raise the now empty glass to the air before slamming it down the countertop. Another full glass is shoved into your hands and you drink it without hesitation. The alcohol burns as it travels through your body, making you shiver and grimace. You are so going to regret this.

After a few minutes of drinking, they grab your hands and lead you to the dance floor. You roll your eyes as they find a space big enough for you all to fit. You feel the beat course through your body making your hips move. The music and the alcohol combined allow you to let loose. You raise your hands to the air above your head as you sway your hips to the beat.

A few songs come and go and you feel yourself get progressively more carefree and you feel a pair of eyes on your body. If you were sober you might find it creepy but right now you just love the attention. You circle your hips harder and more seductively, hoping that the person staring at you takes his chance. You drag your hands down your body as you lean your head back, baring your neck. Slowly spinning around you show them your full body from every angle, your heart beating rapidly. You have never done this before, but you find it exhilarating.

Biting your lip you close your eyes just as a pair of arms wrap around your waist. A smirk makes its way into your lips as you feel the stranger’s body flush against you. Your eyes are still closed and you don’t want to open them. You want to live in this moment without worrying about who is behind you. The hands splay on your stomach as you lean your head back onto his shoulder. The person behind you is around the same height as you, maybe a little taller. Perfect.

One of the hands leaves your front and it sweeps your hair away from your neck that is closer to his face. Your heart beats at the same time as a soft kiss is left on the skin of your neck. The other hand leads your hips along with his, your mouth opening in a silent moan. The kisses keep being placed on your neck and you turn your head to give him more space. They turn open-mouthed and it makes you grab his hands that are on your stomach. His lips travel up to under your ear and he nips at the skin there. Your hands squeeze his and you hear a low chuckle in your ear, his breath hitting the shell of your ear, making you shiver. You push out your behind to his front which makes his hands squeeze your hips. Two fingers tap on your jaw on the other side of your head and they push you to turn your head towards the person's face whom you still haven't seen.

Your eyes stay closed as you feel him lean over to your lips, but before they can press onto yours, you open your eyes. Your whole body freezes as you realize who is in front of you. A woman. You push her away frantically as you stumble backward, colliding with other people who are unaware of what's happening. You mumble out a sorry which you are sure they don't hear, but you don't care. You almost kissed a woman. And not just any woman. The stranger in front of you is Yelena Belova. The Yelena Belova. Everyone in the city knows her and avoids her as much as they can. She is the leader of the Widow Club. One of the most dangerous people in the area. They all carry guns around, ride motorcycles and wear as much leather as they can. Like she is doing now, as she has a black leather jacket on with leather pants and a simple white t-shirt. It's hot. No, you can't think like that. She is dangerous. And she is looking right at you now.

You gulp as she keeps staring with her eyebrows raised expectantly. She takes a step closer to you and you try to stand your ground on shaky legs. She raises her hand and your eyes warily follow all her movements. The music is still blasting around you, but your ears are ringing as she sweeps your hair out of your face. Your mouth opens slightly and her eyes move down to it from your eyes. You close it quickly when you notice where her attention has shifted.

"What's wrong darling?" her accent surprises you and your body doesn't move as she steps even closer. Her face is a few inches from yours and you can't think of anything else but how gorgeous she is "Hmm?" she makes you feel small even though she is only a few inches taller than you.

"I don't- I can't- I'm not-" you stumble over your words making her smile at your cuteness. You are adorable.

"What is it?" she tilts her head to the side. You know she is talking to you like a baby, but somehow you find yourself liking it.

"I like men" the words fall out of your lips messily and your eyes widen at your own confession. Will she be mad?

"Are you sure?" she squints at you, not quite believing your words. Maybe you don't know yet "Because it seemed to me that you enjoyed yourself a few seconds prior" her smile is kind, but you are having a hard time believing she is being sincere.

"I thought you were a man" you avert your eyes and instead look at the people around you.

"Okay" she swiftly steps back with her hands up in surrender. You look at her in confusion "I don't know how badly you think of me" she begins and you look down on the ground in shame "but I won't push you to do anything" she gives you a small smile and then she is out of your sight, the crowd swallowing her. She is gone just like that. You stand there in shock as you try to process what happened. You spoke to one of the most feared people in the city. What is more, you danced with her and almost kissed her. And it was hot. Wait, no. It wasn't. It's just the alcohol in your system that makes you think like this.

You shake your head to clear your head, but it doesn't help much. Looking around you find your friends a few feet away from you, clearly not knowing what just happened. You walk over to them and tell them that you don't feel too good and you want to go home. You say your goodbyes and leave the place to flag down a taxi to finally go home and spend a sleepless night tossing and turning in your bed with a certain woman on your mind.

-

A whole week passes by and you still haven't forgotten about your almost kiss with Yelena. It's been on your mind every day since it happened and you found yourself fantasizing about what would have happened if you didn't stop. It's been annoying you the whole time, but you refused to dwell on it for too long. Until now.

You can't think of anyone else but her, even when a man is right in front of you. You can't kiss anyone without her face being the one that pops up in your mind. You don't understand what she did to you, but something is not right and you know how you can make it go away. You just have to kiss her and you are good. You don't know what it would be like and that's why you can't think about it. That has to be it. It's the only explanation.

Thus you decided to go to the place normal people wouldn't think of going. The Widow Club's place.

As you reach the old building your stomach contracts, your heart beating rapidly. Sweat coats your palms as you walk through the gate and into the yard that stretches in front of the building. Every head turns to you which makes you stop in your tracks, your fake confidence faltering.

"What do you want?" one of the women shouts at you which makes you slightly vince. They all laugh at your reaction.

"I'm looking for Yelena Belova" you speak back loud enough for them to hear. The woman who spoke to you raises her eyebrows and stands up from where she was sitting fixing her bike. She opens her mouth to speak but a door to her right opens and out walks the woman you are looking for. You unconsciously straighten your spine as she looks you up and down and you see recognition in her eyes. She remembers you.

"Come in" she looks into your eyes and you quickly walk toward her. She lets you walk through the open door first and you find yourself in a small office. Shelves line the wall to your right and a table with two chairs on either side of it is in the middle of the room.

Turning around you find Yelena flipping someone off outside the room before turning to you and closing the door behind her.

"So what do you want?" she sits down on her chair and motions for you to do the same across the table. You follow her and sit down. You inhale deeply and the air leaves your lungs in a long sigh.

"What did you do to me?" you look into her striking eyes and you almost lose yourself in it.

"What?" she leans forward to rest her elbows on the table.

"What did you do to me?" you repeat yourself a little slower.

"No I understood what you said, I just don't know what you mean" she shakes her head with a small smile on her lips. The lips you couldn't stop thinking about the past week. You clear your throat and look away from her face.

"Why can't I stop thinking about you and our almost kiss?" you steel yourself as you let the words fall from your lips. Maybe she has the answer to the question that has been burning you. She stares at you for a few seconds without moving at all and you start to feel uncomfortable.

"Are you serious?" she bursts out laughing out of nowhere. She falls back into her chair and now it's your turn to stare at her. Her laugh. Oh god her laugh is the most wonderful sound you have ever heard. When she quiets down a little she stands up and walks around the table to your side. You lean back as she places her hands on either side of you on the chair. Your gulp is visible to her and she tilts her head to the side in wonder.

"Are you scared of me?" she looks into your wide eyes, her voice is soft.

"No" your answer is quick and it comes out without thinking. Without knowing you ease her worries with just that one word.

"Does your heart beat faster when I'm this close?" she leans in closer and you suck in a breath which answers enough for her "You said you keep thinking about me" she grabs your arms to pull you up into a standing position "Well, I keep thinking about you too" she guides you to lean your back against the table and you let her move you however she wants. Her words leave you speechless, your heart drumming against your ribs in anticipation. She places her hands on either side of you on the table, caging you in.

"What do you want me to do about it?" her face comes closer to yours, her eyes not leaving your lips, and all of your resolves disappear.

"Kiss me" these two words are all she needs before her lips crash into yours. Your arms wrap around her neck to pull her closer as her tongue swipes across your bottom lip and your mouth opens to give her access. She explores your mouth making both of you moan into the fervent kiss. You know she is experienced from the way she moves her lips against yours and it only makes you even more frustrated in the best way.

She pulls away from you after a few seconds, eliciting a groan from you. Your eyes stay closed as you relish the feeling of being kissed by her for the first time. She places her thumb on your lips which makes you open your eyes. Her orbs are full of emotions you can't quite grasp yet, but you want to learn all of them. You lean toward her, but stop before you could kiss her again. Your mind is a mess and you can only think about her and her soft lips right now.

"Again?" the cheeky smile on her face leaves you breathless and you can only nod in response. She lets out a small chuckle before pressing her lips to yours again. Your noses bump against each other as her hands grasp your waist. Your fingers tangle in her blonde hair as she shifts her body flush against yours. Her hands find the back of your thighs to help you sit up onto the desk, knocking over everything in your way. Pencils fall on the ground along with their holder amidst loud clangs, but neither of you cares. She stands between your open legs, her lips not leaving yours for a second. You feel her palms brush the skin of your thighs and your mind goes into a frenzy.

A knock sounds from the door and you immediately pull away from her startled by the sudden interruption. Leaning her forehead against your shoulder she groans which makes you giggle. Pressing one last kiss on your lips she walks to the door and opens it.

"This better be important" her voice is authoritative and you are glad she doesn't see you as you bite your lip and clench your thighs together. God, she is so hot.

"Sorry boss we just heard some loud noises and we wanted to check on you to see if you were okay" you can hear the voice of the woman who spoke to you before, now it's laced with a smile as if she can barely hold back from bursting out laughing. They must be close.

"Fuck off" Yelena scoffs at her and she finally lets out the laugh she has been holding back. She slams the door in the woman's face and she turns back to you while shaking her head with a smile on her face. You lean back onto your hands on the table and tilt your head to the side as you watch her mumble under her breath. You catch a few idiots and I should be more strict which makes you smile. Is this the big, feared leader of the Widow Club? People don't know the real her it seems.

Her eyes find yours and she just looks at you for a few seconds. She has stunning eyes. In a few long strides, she is in front of you again, her hands on your legs.

"So how was that pretty girl?" her nose brushes yours which makes a small whine escape the confines of your lips. You avert your eyes bashfully after the sound you make. You seem way too needy.

"Did you like it?" her thumb brushes your cheek and your heartbeat speeds up at the tender touch "Did it answer your question?"

"Yes" the word comes out breathy "to both of them" your answer makes her chuckle.

"And what is the answer?" she pushes you.

"I want more" you confess while closing your eyes. You are too scared to see her reaction and it seems too real now that you said it out loud. You've never thought of any woman like this before.

"More of what?" her thumb keeps stroking your cheek making it hard to think straight.

"You" you keep your eyes closed because you know you would get lost in her orbs if you freed yours.

"Me?" the surprise in her voice is unmistakable and it makes you open your eyes.

"Yes, you" you nod confidently "I want to get to know you" you decide to tell her how you feel, and the smile that lights up her face is worth embarrassing yourself. She slams her lips onto yours making you grab her arm so you don't fall backward. Her kiss is hurried as she pours all her emotions into it and you feel like the whole room is spinning around you.

Pulling away the adorable smile makes its way back to her face and you feel your insides turn into mush at how endearing she is.

"I can't wait to get to know you" you laugh as she holds out her hand for you to shake.

"Yelena Belova" she introduces herself and you tell her your name in return.

"I think we will have a lot of fun together" her smile turns cheeky and you feel your face heat up at the implication of her words.

You can't wait to learn everything about the person most people know by reputation and you are glad you get the opportunity to be close to her. Who needs men when you have a woman like this next to you?

[abbynx]

0 to 100 real quick

La Squadra reacting to a usually silent, patient teammate snapping and going off

Genre: Platonic, just the bois being bros, definitely a self-projection, comfort

Warning: Cursing, mentions of breakup and manipulation 

Your phone rang for the umpteenth time, the stubborn caller failing to realise how many times you've wordlessly made it clear you want nothing to do with him. All you ask of him was to finally leave you alone and yet he continues to persistently pest you. Your will power proved itself mighty to be tolerating his nineteenth call in five minutes.

It was your ex being a stubborn son of a bitch who has a lot of time in his hands, constantly asking you to pick up the phone and let him 'smooth out and explain' his recent relationship with his 'friends' behind your back. You were nowhere near stupid, nor gullible after joining the mob. despite your outward appearance as an innocent, average civilian you've hardened over time with the help of your career and turning your feelings off was no longer a challenge. Over time it simply became a light switch.

After his recent actions came to light, you bear to hesitation to break it off. For a moment you felt guilty when he gave his explanation to why he started seeing other people without you knowing; of course you knew what you were getting into when you signed your soul away to the devil to work in this line of career, you were constantly faced with death and lacked the time to spend time with him. He had no knowledge about what you do for a living, but you knew how to make it clear you were never going to be a simple one-call-away. But over time you've finally gained some self-worth and self-preservation to see through his guilt tripping, before you dropped his ass.

Now you were here, rejecting his calls before pocketing it back in your pants before resuming the movie night. Even putting the phone on silent it continued to bother everyone around you as you continued to nonchalantly press the reject call button.

How can you be this patient, the rest of the team questions but the answer lay before them. Risotto hired the timid assassin with potential for their unwavering patience and swift wits to wiggle them selves out of severe situations, something the time could use to be honest especially when you have a ticking time bomb with no timer and goes off at random. Perhaps the question would be simply answered with a short and simple one: "It's just Y/N being Y/N."

With the pestering phone calls bothering you for the past few days, your team can't help to be annoyed on your behalf and would like to chuck your phone into the deepest trench of the ocean and buy you a new one.

Much to everyone's chagrin, they watch you pick your phone up, however, what you did next was new and unexpected. Instead of rejecting the call, you finally picked up. Most of the time you'd politely greet, but today was certainly different. As soon as you picked up the phone, you wasted no breathe to speak and cut to the chase. All eyes turned to you, some were concerned, curious, shocked, or proud.

"Can you quit blowing up my phone, dude? Twenty FUCKING calls every second is getting tiresome. If you're calling me to 'explain' to me how you're not meeting your hookups then fuck off and get lost! what? Do you miss your personal ego booster? Well then fuck you, go try and choke on your own dick! Do you fucking think I'll believe your half-assed bullshit lies and pathetic fucking cries and bitching will win me over? You must be so fucking DELUSIONAL to be thinking you're worth the effort! What? Are you sad that I’m not a passable doll you can manipulate and mold to your liking? Is that it, you crazy son of a bitch? Can't you fucking get a clue that I'm over it? Huh? I couldn't care less about the new lies you've come up with to try and win me over, I'm done! Finished! Tapos! Ho finito! He terminado! Я задолбался! WHAT OTHER LANGUAGES DO I NEED TO SPEAK TO GET IT THROUGH THAT THICK FUCKING NOGGIN OF YOUR’S? CALL ME AGAIN AND I SWEAR TO ALL THINGS CONSIDERED MIGHTY THAT YOU WON’T HAVE ANY TEETH LEFT, DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND YOU FUCKING CHEATER? DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND? Good."

As soon as you finished the call, you calmly set it down with a sigh of relief. Peace at last. You adjusted yourself comfortably on your seat, wanting to watch the movie on display, when you felt you've made yourself quite the spectacle.

“What?”

Formaggio

- “Woooh, they went off!” His initial response was to high-five you for some reason but you accepted, nevertheless. 

- Very shocked and yet enthusiastic at how you handles yourself at the face of a situation like this. Not to mention, the build up! From you trying to tolerate the caller for the past few minutes, before picking up the call and gave them an ass whipping to remember for the rest of his life! 

- He would feel sorry for the person of the other side of the line if it weren’t for the fact he cheated on you, so good for him to be told off.

Illuso 

- “Heh, about time you told him off.”

- Silently supportive at how you handled yourself at the face of a situation like this and admires you for it. It was very entertaining while it lasted, now he just wants to go back to watching the movie. 

- Along that, he was shock that this hidden side of yours came put of nowhere and came out strong, which he thinks is pretty fucking rad. He now thinks back at the times where he gave you backhanded comments and how you managed to keep yourself cool under it... He now reminds himself not to get on your bad side, ever. 

Proscuitto 

- “.... Thank fuck you’re done, I was starting to think about throwing your phone out.”

- Extremely flabbergasted, as he has never heard you speak fluent in profanities, nor raise your voice at the duration of your stay in La Squadra. and addition to that, the fact you leaned on your seat and calmed yourself immediately as if nothing happened. 

- Nevertheless, he feels proud at you for standing up to yourself and standing your ground. You have always been the timid one entering the world of crime and he overlooked your development within this new and risky life style. Looks like his mentoring worked wonders on you and he feels proud of himself. 

Pesci 

- “......” 

- He was too shaken up to speak, he has never heard you be this angry and frustrated before as you’ve always kept calm in every situation and he admires you for that. 

- He is shaken up, sure but it doesn’t really change how he views you. You were still the patient person he has ever met-- he just happen to witness you lose your cool once but he’s sure that this won’t define you. 

Melone 

- “Good for you for getting rid of that guy.” 

- He’s just relieved that you’re finally done with the guy who has been giving Melone weird vibes the moment you told him about your then boyfriend. A few alarm bells rang in his head as you detailed how he acts around you and despite being happy for you back then, Melone was extremely vocal about his concerns. Looking back at it, he feels that his ‘paranoia’ wasn’t far off.

- He isn’t really shock, he’s just happy that you’re standing your ground and establishing yourself as a person who don’t need no one to use as a co-dependent crutch. After being around Ghiaccio, he really isn’t that phased anymore.

Ghiaccio

- “Fucking finally!”

- Similar to Melone, he’s just relieved your done with the phone calls and clingy boyfriend who is a walking-talking red flag. He hated how you didn’t have time back then to hang out with your other teammates just to spend time with your boyfriend to make up lost times, that often lasts until midnight and Ghiaccio can still hear you talking to your phone. 

- Ghiaccio cares about you despite his distant veneer, and wants the best for the people he cares about. So he was happy that you finally broke your relationship of with a guy who doesn’t deserve you. Also, he’s starting to think that your choice of vocabulary all came from him and is unsure whether he should feel proud or not. 

Risotto

- “Oh... Okay, good for you.”

- He blurted the first thing in mind, because he was just so shock at how you responded. He hired you for being so patient and calm at all times and now looking back, he doesn’t really see himself thinking that one day you’ll be going off without stopping to breathe and stutter. 

- Don’t get him wrong, he actually thinks it’s awesome that you stood up for yourself like that, but just give him time to reel back to reality. He just never thought you’d explode that hard. 

Gelato and Sorbet

- “See Sorbet? I told you they’d snap eventually!” 

- The couple was immensely entertained at your empowering speech being quite the ego breaker and worse-fate-than-death threat. They adore it whenever they see a usually timid newcomer becoming unafraid to stand their ground and tell their oppressors off, it honestly feels like a proud parent thing for them to see their baby kid all grown up and kicking people in the guts with their words. 

- If you would want a rebound, they won’t hesitate to set someone up with you who is far better than your dog-faced ex because they know that people are barely worthy for you 

[slow-burn-sally]

okay the last one for now: awkward Childerstrange kiss.

John doesn't usually do online dating. He's not good at putting on the thick veneer of total bullshit so many people adopt in order to make others like them and find them fuckable. John Childermass has never particularly cared whether anyone likes him or not, and has never had any trouble in the people-finding-him-fuckable department either.

After a painful breakup with a total narcissist who'd cheated on him, then seven long months spent drinking a bit too much and crying very silently in the middle of the night so no one would see it and bother him about it, he decides that maybe going out with some random bloke from grindr might not be such a bad idea.

He sees the message come in from "Jonathan". Why do people like being called Jonathan? So many syllables. So much work. John clicks on the man's profile and sees a weird-hot guy with wild, curly black hair and piercing blue eyes looking back at him.

Then his gaze drifts lower to the list of personal preferences, likes and dislikes, and he groans inwardly.

A magician? Really?

Who the fuck admits to being a magician on a website? It's so... corny. Or rather, people love seeing magicians perform live (if the magician is good), but if they're not, it gets corny fast.

He looks back up at the man's photo and notes the sexy stranger’s screen name. Jonathan Strange.

John rolls his eyes at the clearly made up handle. The message though, once he reads it, is surprisingly open and honest. 

“Hi, 

I have to admit I was at first drawn in by your photos, but learning that you’re also a leather worker, a mechanic and a part time artist? You sound like you’d be a good conversationalist. Over coffee perhaps? I’m just getting out there again after the death of a spouse two years ago, so I’m not looking for the love of my life. Maybe just someone to have fun with. 

Let me know if you’re interested. 

Cheers

- Jonathan.”

John messages him that he is indeed interested, and, preparing himself for the worst, possibly dullest night of his life, he heads to Perks Coffee Co. on the corner across from his building to meet the mysterious Jonathan Strange.

Surprisingly, they have a nice time. Strange (it really is his legal surname! and John adopts it as a nickname immediately, because how can you not?) is a touch arrogant. Bragging about his career as yes, an actual magician. He’s a good one though. He specializes in slight of hand and tricks of the eye that are so streamlined and subtle, that people mistake it for real magic, as nothing else could explain why a shower of gold coins appeared to rain down from above their heads, nor how what they’d assumed had been a fake raven had suddenly taken flight from Strange’s hand in a flurry of black feathers. He’s so good in fact that he’s had to fend off a couple of law suits surrounding claims that he drugs his audience in order to make them hallucinate, for there is no other explanation for the wildness of his act.

Strange assures John that it is little more than a relentlessly obsessive compulsive mind and thousands upon thousands of hours of practice that allow him to do what he does, and reassures John with a cocky smirk that he can’t actually do real, old school wizard magic. He’s just a man, not a sorcerer.

His arrogance would be a red flag for John if the man weren’t so obviously using it to mask a great deal of grief. John can see it radiate off of him in waves when he’s not speaking. His eyes, merry and sparkling like Caribbean waters one second, then when he looks down into his coffee, his face takes on shadows of pain. 

“Tell me something about you that you don’t normally tell blokes on dates,” Strange asks, and John is pleasantly surprised by his question. 

“Oh, well, I like old books,” he admits with a shrug. He’s leaning against the wall next to the coffee counter, looking at Johnathan Strange through the curtain of his long, undone hair. It’s a tactic he often employs when he wants to stay half hidden before letting people get to know him. “I used to work for a book dealer and he taught me a lot about old books.”

“That’s a wonderful thing to be interested in!” Strange exclaims, smiling. He’s got a pretty smile. 

A conversation ensues about John’s favorite old books, and how he’d even begun dipping his toes in restoration. 

“How did your wife die?” John asks, thought he tries to do it gently. He often loses touch of what is and is not appropriate conversation on first dates. 

“Cancer,” Strange replies, his face taking on that sad look again. 

“I’m sorry. That must have been rough,” John says. 

“It was. I’m still not really OK about it,” Strange says, which is very honest really, when you’re trying to get in some bloke’s pants. John likes that, that Strange is open about his emotional struggles. It makes him seem more genuine. Strange’s sadness also moves him in a way he’s surprised by. He’s never had a life partner before, choosing to live as an eternal bachelor. It’s easier on his wallet and his mental health. But to imagine falling in love with someone, sharing a life with them, and then losing them. That must be a mind fuck and a half. 

“Do you want to come over for a drink?” he asks, for he suddenly realizes he wants to do things to Strange to make him forget his grief... to help him relax, and those things might not be appreciated were he to do them here at the coffee shop. 

“Oh, I... yes, yes, I’d love to,” Strange’s face transforms into a slightly loopy smile. His teeth are a little bucked in the front and John finds that he likes that. It mars the perfection of Strange’s cocky, man about town persona, and makes him a bit relatably goofy looking. Which is hot. 

“Excellent. Well then, allow me to buy you a coffee and we can get out of here.” 

John pays and they both leave, walking the sixty or so some-odd feet to the door of John’s second storey flat. John lets them in and they climb the stairs in silence. John wonders if Strange is eyeing his arse from behind as the man follows him up. 

they reach John’s flat, and John gives Strange the grand tour, which takes approximately 20 seconds as the flat is tiny. They end at the bedroom of course. It’s a classic maneuver, one that’s quite easy to see through. Strange looks knowingly at the well made futon in the small side room John uses as a bedroom and smiles. He turns to look at John. They’re both standing in the bedroom doorway, each with one hand on the frame, the other hand hanging by their sides near each other. They lock eyes for a moment, then both move at the same time, closing in for a kiss. 

Only, there’s a mix up somewhere. Strange reaches out with his hand, just as John reaches out with his, and their hands collide, this causes John to yelp in discomfort and jerk his head back a little, which causes Strange to miss his lips entirely and smear a wet kiss mark across the top of John’s cheek. 

An awkward silence ensues, then Strange smirks, John grunts, and then they’re both laughing. Bending over double with their sides held, laughing at the silliness of modern day seduction and all of it’s ridiculous glory. 

As the giggles and guffaws slow and putter out, they end up looking at each other again. John watches, a little breathless from laughing, as Strange’s eyes drift down to rest on John’s lips. 

This time, it’s not nearly as awkward. There’s no knocking of limbs or missing of lips. John steps up, loops an arm around Strange’s waist, and brings their mouths together. Strange lets all the air in his lungs out through his nose, and that warm breath brushes against John’s cheek. He teases a little at Strange’s lips with the tip of his tongue and then Strange opens his mouth and shares that wet heat with John in a very explicit sort of kiss. 

By the end of two weeks, they’re properly dating. Meeting for dinner after work, shagging desperately at one of their flats, or spending long hours on the phone, talking about everything and anything. 

Looking back, John can’t believe he’d planned on keeping Strange at arm’s length. He can’t believe he’d thought of himself as incapable of falling in love again, as he’s fairly certain he’s currently half out of his mind in love. Most of all, he can’t fathom why he’d thought the name Jonathan was too long and had too many syllables. It sounds far far better when he cries it out softly in bed. 

[yelena-bellova]

Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

chapter three - Chapter Four: Madripoor - chapter five

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n, Sam and Bucky pay an eventful visit to Helmut Zemo in Berlin, heading to Madripoor soon after to get answers about the serum.

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings: spoilers for episode.3, angst, violence, description of injuries, a few crumbs for the slow burn, breaking the law and looking good doing it

A/N: These chapters always end up being so long lol. I was going to include the nightclub scene but it would’ve made it too long so sorry, it’ll have to wait a few more days. Forgive my shitty Russian translations, I’m on Google Translate and that’s not saying a lot. 

----

“Not that it makes a difference, but I still don’t like this.” I’d voiced my displeasure about meeting with Zemo several times since we’d arrived in Germany. Even though we were already being led through the high security Berlin prison hallways, I still felt the urge to state my opinion. 

The guard that was guiding us gestured towards a door, “He’s just through the corridor.”

“Give us a sec,” Bucky said, the three of us coming to a halt in the middle of the hall. “I’m gonna go in alone.” “Why?” Sam asked.

“You’re an Avenger, you know how he feels about that,” Bucky looked to me, “You, I’m trying to keep as far away from him as possible.”

“It’s not like you two were known for frolickin’ in the sun together,” Sam remarked.

“I’m gonna say it again,” I took an assertive step forward, “I don’t like this.”

“He was obsessed with HYDRA,” Bucky pushed, “We have a history together. Trust me, I got it.”

Taking my cue from Sam, who didn’t fight him any more, I nervously watched Bucky stalk down the hallway to the corridor that led to our possible next step.

“Is he really okay?” I asked, watching Bucky’s figure until he disappeared, “I feel like we’re going a little too far with this.” “He’s invested, which means he’s desperate,” Sam answered, leaning his back against the wall, “This is a little too much though.” 

I copied his posture and we stood in silence, the occasional guard passing by. “What happened last night after I left the room? C’mon, you come out crying and you thought I was gonna let it go?” “Bucky and I were just…” I sighed, remembering the change that had happened between our two conversations, “Learning to get along. I told him about Steve, that’s never fun to relive.” “Ah,” Sam nodded, “Can I ask you something?” 

“Hm?” “You’re not mad at me that I gave up the shield, are you?”

My brows knitted together as I looked over at him, “Why would I be mad? Your decision wouldn’t have changed even if I was, would it?” “No, it wouldn’t have. But you were close to Steve too, you care about his legacy,” he went on, “We’re all angry about Walker. I don’t care if Bucky’s upset at me, but I always care if you are.” “Someone ever tell you you care too much sometimes?” I playfully nudged his sneaker with my own, “Of course I’m not mad, you know I support you no matter what. You made the right decision for you and you have nothing to apologize for. Bucky and even Steve don’t need to understand why you chose to give it up. Would it have been cool to say that my brother is Captain America?” I coaxed a laugh out of him, “Of course, but it doesn’t change how I see you. I’m just proud to say my brother is Sam Wilson.” He poked me with his elbow and smiled, “Now I remember why I keep you around.” “Y/n Y/l/n, Falcon’s Ego Booster.” We were sharing a laugh when Bucky came back around the corner. “That was quick,” I observed. He’d been in there five minutes tops.

“We’ve got our next stop.”

————

“What are you talking about? You wanna break Zemo outta jail?” Sam questioned in the dark, “Where are we, Buck? Have you lost your mind?”

“We have no leads, no moves, nothing,” Bucky replied, shining his flashlight around to try and find the power switch. I couldn’t clearly make out where he had brought us to, he’d brought us through the back door of the building. “So because we’ve hit one dead end, you want to spring one of the most dangerous men in the world out of prison?” I asked, shining my flashlight at Bucky causing him to throw a hand up to shield his eyes, “Bucky, I don’t-“ “Like this,” he finished, “I got that, but we’ve got eight Super Soldiers on the loose.” “Zemo’s gonna miss with our minds, especially yours,” Sam interjected, “No offense.” I made out Bucky’s silhouette reaching up a beam, a loud click of a switch and the lights began to turn on. “Offense,” he scowled.

With the lights on, we could finally see that we were in an auto shop. I was glad to be out of the prison but I wasn’t seeing the correlation between it and freeing Zemo.

“Super Soldiers go against everything he believes in,” Bucky continued, “He is crazy, but he still has a code.” “I’ve been on the wrong side of that code and so have you,” Sam countered, I’d heard in detail about the havoc Zemo had caused and the ramifications of his actions had caused Sam and Steve to become fugitives. Never mind what he’d done to Bucky…”He blew up the UN, he killed King T’Chaka and framed you for it. Did you forget that? You think the Wakandans forgot about it? It’s a rhetorical question, they didn’t. I know why this matters to you, but it’s pushing you off the deep end.”

Bucky stood in front of us now, “We don’t know how they’re gettin’ the serum. We don’t even know how many of them there are,” Sam turned his back in frustration, “Look, let me just walk you two through a hypothetical. Can I walk you through a hypothetical?”

“What did you do?” Sam asked suspiciously, turning halfway to meet Bucky’s eyes.

“I didn’t…” Bucky’s looked away briefly, “Do anything.”

“Then by all means,” I leaned up against a beam and crossed my arms, not believing him at all, “Let’s ride the hypothetical train.” Bucky frowned at my sarcasm before launching into it, “The weakest point in any system isn’t the software, the hardware, it’s the meatware. The human element. Now, in this lockup, it’s nine to one, prisoners to guards. And if two prisoners start fighting, then the protocol says four guards have to respond.” “So why would two prisoners randomly start fighting at that moment?” Sam asked.

“Who knows? There could be many reasons…But the point is, these things escalate. Lockdown procedures would have to be initiated and with all those bodies flying around left and right, wouldn’t be hard to slip down a hallway or two. And if the fire alarm got tripped while the prisoners were being separated, someone could use the chaos to their advantage.”

“My gut is sounding off every alarm it has right now,” I commented from my place across from Bucky.

“Yeah, I don’t like how casual you’re bein’ about this, this is unnatural,” Sam replied finally, “Are you- and where are we, man?” A nearby door closing caused us to turn our attention towards it, a silhouette appearing soon after through a curtain. The shadow became a man and walked through the cloth divider wearing the face I’d had etched in my brain since the day it hit the news.

“You son of a bitch,” I mumbled, creating a ball of energy quickly with my hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Sam’s voice rose, walking with me towards the man, “What are you doin’ here?” Bucky was quick to throw himself in front of us, “No, listen. I didn’t want to tell you ‘cause I knew neither of you would let this happen.” “What the hell did you do?” I exclaimed.

“We need him,” Bucky said. Sam pointed to Zemo, “You’re going back to prison!”

“If I may,” the Sokovian man began, removing the hat of his stolen prison guard uniform.

“NO!” the three of us yelled at the same time. He hung his head, “Apologies…” Bucky turned back to Sam, “When Steve refused to sign the Sokovia Accords, you backed him. You broke the law, and you stuck your neck out for me,” when Sam averted his gaze, Bucky chased it, “I’m asking you to do it again.” 

“And what about her?” Sam gestured to me and the ball of energy I still had formed in my palms, “What happens when she breaks the law?” Bucky’s pleading eyes drifted to me, “He’s our only shot at getting any answers.” My mind was wrestling with itself, his rightness was inevitably going to come at a cost we would all have to pay. On a technicality, yes, I could plead innocent to freeing Zemo. A coconspirator charge, I wouldn’t be so lucky with. But stopping the Flag Smashers meant saving lives and that wasn’t something I could walk away from. I deformed the energy in my hands in cautious surrender, “I’m already breakin’ the law by going against the accords, I need to make it worth it at least.” Sam shot me an exasperated glance, but he didn’t fight me.

“I really think I’m invaluable…” Zemo began from his corner.

“Shut up…” Sam warned, effectively shutting him up. Sam thought it all over for a second before pressing his flashlight to Bucky’s chest, “Okay. If we do this, you don’t make a move without our permission.” Zemo shrugged, “Fair.”

The three of us shared an uneasy look, there was no going back now. “Okay, Zemo, where do we start?”

“Follow me,” he smiled, leading the way out of the auto shop and expecting us to follow. Sam went first, eager to keep his eye on Zemo at all times while Bucky and I brought up the rear.

“I didn’t want to have to go this route,” he said from beside me as if he owed me some explanation for his actions. I sighed, trying to shut off the part of my brain that was screaming at me, “Just be right.”

We maneuvered through a few corridors until we hit a room filled with beautiful antique cars. “So our first move is grand theft auto?” Sam asked. “These are mine,” Zemo corrected, “Collected by family over the generations. I spent years hunting people HYDRA recruited to recreate the serum. Because once it’s out there, someone can create an army of people…like the Avengers,” he dug through one of the cars to pull out a bag and coat, “I ended the Winter Soldier program once before. I have no intention to leave my work unfinished.” My eyes unavoidably flickered to Bucky, observing his reaction to hearing his old code name. He simply watched the man continue speaking. “To do this, we’ll have to scale a ladder of lowlifes.”

“Well, join the party. We’ve already started…” Sam commented.

“First stop is a woman named Selby,” Zemo stated as he headed for the exit, “Mid-level fence I still have a line on. From there, we climb.” 

Sam, Bucky and I left a gaping distance between us and him, we were still highly suspicious and I had a feeling we would be until our temporary partnership came to an end.

————

Zemo had gotten word to somebody that we’d be meeting them at a private airport in Berlin and flying to someplace called Madripoor. Somehow we’d made the journey without being recognized, even those of us who were wanted across the globe. “So all this time you’ve been rich?” Sam asked as we made our way towards the private plane.

“I’m a Baron, Sam,” Zemo answered, “My family was royalty until your friends destroyed my country.” 

Zemo greeted the man standing outside the plane, who was dressed like a butler, in Sokovian. “Well,” I crossed my arms and watched one of the world’s most dangerous men exchange cheek kisses, “If we’re going to work with a criminal, at least we picked one that comes with transportation.” “Please,” Zemo said, gesturing for us to follow him up the plane’s steps. Sam awkwardly bowed to the butler and headed up. Bucky extended a hand towards the jet for me to go ahead of him before following closely behind.

When we filed into the plane, Sam and Zemo were already seated. I moved to take the chair across from the baron, wanting to keep as close an eye on him as I could. Bucky’s flesh arm reached out quickly and grabbed my shoulder, I turned to question him and met his wary expression. “Sit with Sam,” he muttered quietly, our faces close enough that I could feel his breath as he’d spoken. It dawned on me that he wanted me to have the safer position. I answered with a nod, maneuvering around him to sit across from Sam. Even though his hand had left my arm, I could still feel its print through my jacket.

We had been flying for maybe twenty minutes when Zemo’s butler, Oeznik, came in carrying a glass of champagne for Zemo and offering to whip up some food. It astounded me how to the world, he was evil yet to his servants, he was a joy. “You don’t know what it’s like to be locked in a cell,” the baron said before looking over at my brother, “Oh, that’s right. You do.”

Sam bypassed the jab remarkably, “Why don’t you tell us about where we’re going?”

“I’m sorry, I was just fascinated by this,” Zemo held up a book, “I don’t know what to call it, but this part seems to be important. Who is Nakajima?”

Not two seconds after the name had left his lips, Bucky out of his seat with his metal hand wrapped around Zemo’s neck. My heart stopped as I watched him lean over the man threateningly. “If you touch that book again,” he growled, “I’ll kill you.” This was a side of Bucky I had yet to see, the one that straddled the line between his dark past and his true self. As he sat back down, tucking the book in his pocket and refusing to meet my eyes, I could tell he wasn’t pleased with how he’d acted. I wasn’t in a place to criticize but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been slightly worried when his fingers hit Zemo’s skin.

“I’m sorry,” Zemo said, “I understand that list of names. People you’ve wronged as the Winter Soldier.” “Don’t push it,” Bucky rasped, collecting himself after the scene.

“I’ve seen that book,” Sam spoke up, “It was Steve’s when he came out of the ice. I told him about Trouble Man, he wrote it in that book. Did you hear it? What’d you think?” “I like ’40’s music,” Bucky shrugged and looked out the window, “So…” “You didn’t like it?” Sam exclaimed.

“I liked it,” Bucky replied unconvincingly.

“It is a masterpiece, James,” Zemo chimed in, his hands forming a triangle, “Complete, comprehensive…It captures the African-American experience.” While my brows raised at the European’s surprising education, Sam’s furrowed. “He’s out of line, but he’s right. It’s great, everybody loves Marvin Gaye.”

Bucky shook his head, “I like Marvin Gaye.” “Steve adored Marvin Gaye.” “He did,” I chuckled, reminiscing back to only last year, “Played him almost anytime I got in a car with him.” “You must have really looked up to Steve,” Zemo said, “But I realized something when I met him. The danger with people like him, America’s Super Soldiers, is that we put them on pedestals.” “Watch your step, Zemo…” Sam warned. “They become symbols. Icons. And then we start to forget about their flaws. From there,” he shrugged, “Cities fly, innocent people die. Movements are formed, wars are fought,” Zemo turned his attention to Bucky, “You remember that, right?” As a young soldier sent to Germany to stop a mad icon. Do we want to live in a world full of people like the Red Skull? That is why we’re going to Madripoor.” “What’s up with Madripoor?” Sam looked between the two men, “You guys talk about it like it’s Skull Island.”

“It’s an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago,” Bucky grumbled, “It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s.” “It’s kept its lawless ways, but we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves,” Zemo’s unsettling eyes moved back to Bucky, “James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone.” 

With the way Bucky’s expression had changed in mere seconds from complacent to tortured, it didn’t take long to decode what Zemo was insinuating. “No,” I blurted out, “That’s not fair to ask of him.” “I admire your devotion, Y/n,” Zemo complimented with his lips to his champagne flute, taking a quick sip, “But you know nothing of how Madripoor works. If you want to get to Selby, we must have protection. More than that, we must have leverage. James can provide us both by simply playing a part.” “Devo-?” I shook my head, sidestepping Zemo’s comment, “That’s not playing a part, that’s like reliving every nightmare you’ve ever had. I-it’s like-“ “Y/n,” I turned to see Bucky’s chair rotated towards me, looking helpless and determined all at once, “We need in.” “Yeah, but…” I started to protested before seeing his eyes, those ocean blue eyes I was growing to feel comforted by begging me to let the subject go. I clenched my own y/e/c ones shut in frustration, “Okay.” “Now that that’s settled,” Zemo stood from his seat, “I will find us something to change into, we will need to blend in where we’re going.” ——

The silver dress Zemo had chosen for me was…it made me wonder just what kind of scene we were planning to enter. It was more revealing than anything I typically wore, but gorgeous nonetheless and fit perfectly.

As I was finishing my makeup in the bathroom of the plane, I had to take a second to steel myself for what was to come. This wasn’t just dallying with Super Soldiers any more, this was dancing with the criminal underworld. Zemo hadn’t told us yet the roles we were playing, only that we needed to stay in character at all cost. I had never felt more out of my depth, but had no choice but to rise to the occasion. Giving myself one last check in the mirror, I unlocked and exited the bathroom. 

“Okay, I hope whoever I’m playing is bad with heels,” I held up the elaborate shoes Zemo had matched to my dress, “Because there’s no way I’m going to be graceful in these.” Sam looked up from tying his dress shoes, dressed in a maroon suit patterned with yellow circles. His eyes scanned my outfit unapprovingly. “Uh uh,” he protested, going full protective big brother, “Nope. It shows too much.” “It doesn’t matter what it shows,” I said, bending over to strap on the shoes, “It’s what I’ve got.” “She’s right,” Zemo chimed in, putting his jacket on, “You two are supposed to be rich, glamorous travelers of the world. You need to look the part,” he nodded towards me, “You wear it well.” I politely smiled at the baron and looked up to Bucky, perched in the far corner of the jet. His gaze was fixed on me, eyes quickly traveling down my body before quickly locking with mine. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his plush lips parted ever so slightly. I found myself just as drawn into him as he seemed to be with me, for a few seconds it was just the two of us shutting our surroundings out. It was…something. “You look nice,” Bucky finally said, his voice slightly strained.

My lips quirked upwards, “Thanks.” “It is time for us to leave,” Zemo announced, bursting the bubble Bucky and I had built, “You’d better get used to those shoes quickly, we’ll be making most of the journey by foot.” He hadn’t been lying. We departed the runway and walked our way towards the city. Madripoor looked beautiful on the outside, the high-rise buildings lit up in all different colors emitting a glow across the waters. 

“We have to do something about this,” Sam finally exclaimed, holding the lapels of his patterned maroon suit, “I’m the only one who looks like a pimp.” “If you’re a pimp, what does that make me?” I gestured to the amount of skin I had on display, “Suck it up, Wilson.” “Only an American would assume a fashion-forward black man looks like a pimp,” Zemo added as we crossed the large bridge leading to the city, “You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.” Sam took Zemo’s phone from his outstretched hand, “He even has a bad nickname.”

I leaned over to look at the picture of Sam’s doppelgänger, “Hey, be nice. That’s your twin you’re talking about.” “And you,” Zemo addressed me, “Conrad is known for entertaining beautiful women, one after the other,” he ignored the faces of disgust Sam and I made at the thought of acting as a couple, “You will be playing tonight’s date, no need to come up with a name or a story as his dates are typically just arm candy.”

“So I’m supposed to just sit and look pretty?” I side eyed Zemo in annoyance, “Great.” “You smell this?” he asked the group.

“Yeah, what is that? Acid?” Sam asked.

“Madripoor,” Zemo answered, “No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There’s no margin for error. High Town’s that way,” Zemo pointed towards the part of the city I’d been admiring, “Not a bad place if you want to visit, but Low Town’s the other way.” We approached a car waiting for us at the end of the bridge, ready to take us into the darkest part of the city. Bucky, who had remained silent since the plane, climbed into the backseat first while Zemo took the passenger’s side. “Let me guess,” Sam remarked as we moved to get in the car, “We don’t have any friends in High Town.”

“I’m guessing not,” I muttered, ducking into the back seat and sliding till I was pressed against Bucky. He didn’t make a sound, he barely even registered my presence. I was about to ask him if he was alright when I realized what he was doing. We all had our roles to play and Bucky was doing just that. 

Sam climbed in next to me and we took off, me sandwiched between the two men trying to convince myself that I could do this. I could pretend to be someone I wasn’t to get answers, but my nerves was convincing me I was going to mess it up for us. No margin for error, Zemo’s words bounced around in my brain. He’d said our lives depended on it. They depended on whether or not I could keep it together. Sam must have sensed my anxiety because I felt his palm slide against my clammy one and squeeze. I sent a shaky one back, taking what comfort I could that I didn’t have to do this alone.

We were escorted in by a motorcade till we got to the seedier part of the city, the bridge we parked under painted with graffiti. Sam helped me out of the car and Zemo took our group through the back way into the city. As we crossed the overhead bridge, looking down into the city, I began to feel like my life had suddenly become some fever dream. Even more so once we entered the city and I was surrounded by people from all walks of life. Smugglers were making deals, guards were stationed outside buildings with machine guns, forgers were trying to sell to people. It was like nothing I’d ever seen. Sam kept me on his arm the entire time, selling our characters while still retaining his protective nature. We followed Zemo into a crowded bar, weaving our way through. “Here we are,” he announced quietly, our fellow patrons took notice as soon as they caught sight of Bucky, “Gotov podchinit'sya, zimniy soldat?” (Ready to comply, Winter Soldier?)

I tried my best to keep my face neutral, though an unwelcome chill went down my spine as Zemo began his act. It was wrong. It wasn’t fair to Bucky or his recovery to make him do this.

We approached the bar and the bartender came over immediately, “Hello, gentlemen. Ma’am. Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.” “His plans changed,” Zemo explained, “We have business to do with Selby.”

The bartender looked over suspiciously at Sam, “The usual?” Sam nodded casually in response and the man walked away to begin prepping the drink. What took us by surprise was when he reached for a jar containing a dead snake rather than the bottle of alcohol. He proceeded to lay the reptile on a cutting board and slice its stomach open, I looked up to Sam who was doing his best to keep his composure. “Ah, Smiling Tiger,” Zemo jeered, “Your favorite.”

The bartender removed a piece of the snake’s guts and sunk it into a shot glass filled with vodka. I covered my mouth with my clutch to conceal my delight at the sight I was about to behold. Sam caught the action and addressed the bartender, “You know what? She’ll have one too.” “Oh, no, I don’t think so,” I quickly protested, waving it off as if it were a shot of tequila and not an animal intestine.

“No, girl, I insist,” Sam grinned phonily at me.

“They actually upset my stomach,” I giggled, glancing to the bartender, “Can’t hold my liquor to save my life, I’ll be up all night sick if it touches my lips. But you enjoy, sweetheart.” The bartender didn’t pay much attention to the exchange as he set the shot glass in front of Sam, who looked unconvincingly between the glass and Zemo. “I love these,” he stated, holding it up for us all to see.

“Cheers, Conrad,” Zemo clinked his glass against Sam’s.

Sam made several, hopefully convincing, noises of excitement about his drink. After giving it one last look, he shot it straight down, holding a thumbs up to the bartender afterwards.

“How badly are you trying not to throw up right now?” I whispered after the man had left.

“I can’t even hear you right now,” Sam replied in a strained voice, focusing on keeping the drink where it needed to be. An intimidating bearded man made us all turn around, he looked to Zemo. “I got word from on high. You ain’t welcome here.”

Zemo, ever the cool and collected presence, turned to the man. “I have no business with the Power Broker. But if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo gestured to Bucky, standing at his side. 

“New haircut?” the man asked Bucky, who stayed silent.

“Or bring Selby for a chat,” Zemo finished.

The man left, leaving us with questions. “A power broker?” Bucky grumbled, “Really?” “Every kingdom needs its king,” Zemo replied, “Let’s just pray we stay under his radar.” 

“Do you know him?” Sam inconspicuously asked. “Only be reputation the baron answered, “In Madripoor he is judge, jury, and executioner.”

I spotted another man approaching us, this one walking with a purpose. Zemo looked to Bucky, the show was about to start. “Zimniy Soldat,” Bucky nodded once, “Attask.” (Winter Soldier, attack.) As soon as the stranger thumped Zemo’s shoulder, Bucky sprang to action, his metal hand grabbing and twisting the man’s arm. He pushed him to the center of the room where he proceeded to twist it further before dropping him to the ground. The groans coming from him were sickening as he lay helpless, clutching his most likely broken arm. As another patron came up to attack, Bucky moved fast to disarm him before power kicking him into a table several times. I clung to Sam’s arm even tighter as Zemo shoved someone forward for Bucky to punch, sending him sliding across the floor. 

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form,” Zemo slyly observed, from my side. It took everything in me not to send him flying across the room right then. He was enjoying this.

When Bucky lifted a man by his throat and slammed him down on the bar was when guns all over the bar were cocked. Sam grabbed onto Bucky’s metal arm, ready to pull him back to us and to reality. “Stay in character,” Zemo whispered, dead serious, “Or the whole bar turns on us.” Sam dropped his arm as Zemo leaned into Bucky, “Molodets, soldat.” (Well done, soldier.)

“Selby will see you now,” the bartender said, watching the scene in awe. Bucky slowly let the man go, gasping and groaning for air once he was freed. Sam looked over warily, “You good?” When Bucky faced us, his eyes met mine before they met Sam’s. I wished I could have concealed my reaction better for his sake, but the second he had attacked was the first time since we’d met that I’d been properly scared of him. It made the incident on the plane look like nothing. My mind knew he was just acting, pretending to be someone he once was for the sake of furthering our mission. But my blood ran just as cold with fear as it would have if the Winter Soldier was standing in front of me. Bucky’s eyes now were watery, filled with pain that he’d worked hard with his therapist to get through, now being brought back to life. Had the bar not been watching and had I not needed to stick with Sam, I’d have been at his side trying to make sure he was alright. Instead, I could only watch as he sniffled, nodded to Sam and followed Zemo to wherever we were going next.

We were escorted upstairs through a series of hallways with a heavily armed guard following us. A white haired woman sat in the middle of the room we were led to, tapping her fingers against the couch she lounged on. “You should know, Baron, people don’t just come into my bar and make demands.” Zemo smiled, “Not a demand. An offer.”

Sam and I took our places standing next to Selby, Bucky stood watch across from us, back in his act. 

“A lot has changed since you were here last,” Selby spared a look at Bucky, “By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?” 

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” Zemo shrugged, “I’m sure you’ve already figured out what I’m here for.” 

Selby pointed a blind finger towards Sam, “You’re taller than I’d heard, Smiling Tiger,” she eyed Sam suggestively and gave him a purr before turning her attention to me, “And what a lovely little dish you’ve got with you.” Internally I was struggling to stay calm and had never felt more exposed with the thin materiel of the dress over my body. “What’s the offer?” Selby grinned at Zemo.

“Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum,” Zemo replied, rising from his seat to circle Bucky, “And I give you him, along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want,” Zemo rubbed Bucky’s chin, playing with it to provoke him but knowing he could get away with it. I felt sick to my stomach.

“Now that’s the Zemo I remember,” Selby approved, “I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately. Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right. The super-soldier serum is here in Madripoor. Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank. Or condemn, depending on what side of this you’re on. The Power Broker had him working on the serum, but…things didn’t go as planned.”

I squeezed Sam’s arm, we were getting answers. The crazy, chaotic plan was actually working. “Is Nagal still in Madripoor?” Zemo asked.

“Oh, the bread crumbs you can have for free,” Selby’s flirtatious demeanor shifted as she stood to business-like, “But the bakery is gonna cost you, Baron. And before you get all cute, don’t think you can find Nagel without me.” 

A sudden vibration tickled my arm from Sam’s suit pocket, it was his cell phone. He pulled it out hesitantly and looked down at it, I glanced over to see that it was Sarah calling.

“Answer it,” Selby ordered, Bucky had moved behind her to give us protection if need be, “On speaker.” The armed bodyguards moved in closer, it was clear we had no say in the matter. Sam unlocked his phone and pressed the speaker button, “Hello?” “Hey, um, we need to talk about this situation,” Sarah’s voice filled the air, sending an all too brief wave of peace through me, “It’s been drivin’ me nuts.” 

“What situation exactly are you talkin’ about?” Sam replied stiffly. “Are you high? You know what situation, it’s the only situation me and you have.”

“What situation, Sarah?” Sam’s voice grew louder, “Say it.”

“The damn boat,” Sarah replied just as hard, “And watch your tone, okay? I let you slide at the bank.”

Sarah. The boat. Home. And here I was standing in a designer dress meeting with Indonesian crime bosses. Two unbelievable worlds were colliding on the call.

Sam scoffed and nervously chuckling, “Yeah, the bank. Laundered so much, yeah, they’ll come around.” “If that was the case, then why’d they dog you out, Big Time?”

“Yeah, you damn right I’m Big Time. You’ll see,” Sam paused menacingly, “When I have that banker killed.”

We almost had Selby convinced as I watched her pace around the room, we were so close to- “Cass! What’d I tell you about the Cheerios? I don’t have time for this!” Sarah yelled, “Sam, I’m sorry. Let me call you back, and make sure Y/n is with you too.” “Sam? Y/n?” Selby echoed the names, “Who are you? Kill them!”

A second after she had given the order, a bullet shot through the nearby window and struck her chest fatally. The four of us sprung to action, Sam landing punches on the guard stationed behind us while I used my energy to pull the machine gun from his grasp. Across from us, Bucky took care of the other guard. I handed the weapon to Sam and we took our positions in the back of the room, ready to retaliate against the hidden assassin. “They’re gonna pin this on us,” Sam panted, our backs against the wall.

“We have a real problem now,” Zemo said, unbelievably calm for someone in our situation, “So leave your weapons and follow my lead.” Bucky ripped the lock on the back door and the four of us filed down the staircase quick as we could. It dropped us back off in the middle of the city, we hurriedly made our way down the street where all heads were turning to us. “This is not good,” Zemo hurried. The words hung in the air for a grand total of five seconds before bullets started to rain down around us. Bucky, Sam and I tore down the street where in the chaos, Zemo took off in another direction.

“I can’t run in these heels!” Sam yelled over the gunfire. “Oh, I don’t wanna hear it,” I exclaimed, struggling to keep up with them in my stilettos, “Screw it!”

I threw my hands out to my side and lifted off the ground, keeping low enough to dodge any shots but stay close to Sam and Bucky. Two motorcycles sped after us promising more bounty hunters, Zemo caught up with us and killed two lone gunmen hiding behind a dumpster. Two perfectly aimed bullets came out of nowhere and lodged themselves in the heads of the cyclists chasing us.

“You seem to have a guardian angel,” Zemo observed as the three of us looked around for our savior.

“Well, this is too perfect,” a woman’s voice said, she appeared seconds later drawing back her hood and pointing a gun toward us, “Drop it, Zemo.”

Bucky stepped forward disbelievingly, “Sharon?” Sharon Carter. I recognized her only from the pictures I’d seen of her on the news when the shitstorm that branded her an enemy of the state went down. As she strode forward, ready to strike down the man responsible, I couldn’t say with certainty if she was an ally or not. “You cost me everything,” she seethed.

“Sharon, wait,” Sam, ever the steady presence, held a hand out and carefully came towards her, “Someone recreated the super-soldier serum and Zemo had a lead.” “Well, that explains why you guys are here and Selby’s dead.”

“So what are you doing here?” Bucky asked.

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember?” she answered, her face contorting, “I also took the wings for your ass,” she aimed her gun at Sam, “So that you could save his ass,” then at Bucky, “From his ass,” the gun landed on me after Zemo, “Your ass is new.” “I’ve had one hell of an initiation, trust me,” I replied, standing my ground between Bucky and Zemo.

Sharon turned back towards Sam, “Unlike you, I didn’t have the Avengers to back me up so I’m off the grid in Madripoor.”

“Don’t blow that smoke at me, I was on the run, too,” Sam recalled. “Was. Is. Big difference. I don’t speak to my family anymore,” Sharon shook her head sadly, “I can’t. My own father doesn’t know where I am.”

“Listen, Sharon,” Bucky stepped forward, “We need your help. Please.” Sharon mirthlessly chuckled to herself, sighing afterwards as she made her decision. “This isn’t over. I have a place in High Town, you should be safe there for a while.”

While Sam roughly shoved Zemo forward to keep him in his line of sight, Bucky pressed a gentle hand to the small of my back to act as a guide through the dark alleyways. “You okay?” he asked quietly, quickly looking over at me. With everything he’d gone through in the last twenty minutes, the fight in the bar, the unshed tears in his eyes, Zemo talking about him like he was property to be traded, I couldn’t understand why he was asking if I was alright. He was what I was concerned with right now. “I will be once I get out of these shoes,” I joked, trying to get him to smile if at all possible. A corner of his lips turned upwards in a blink-and-you’d-miss-it flash, mine doing the same right after in some sort of relief.

Sharon led us to her car parked down a different alley, Sam shoved Zemo in the front seat while him, Bucky and I squeezed in the backseat once again. The difference between Low Town and High Town was visceral, Madripoor may have been dangerous no matter where you went but High Town provided a little more safety. When we arrived at Sharon’s house, greeted by two burly guards, the feeling of protection increased. The first room we entered was filled with artwork, statues and other priceless works that told us exactly what Sharon had done to afford her lifestyle in High Town.

“Looks like breaking all those laws is treating you well,” Sam commented as we walked through the room.

“Well, I thought if I had to hustle, might as well enjoy the life of a real hustler,” Sharon shrugged, far too goodheartedly for a true criminal, “You know how much I can get for a real Monet?” Sam grinned at his friend, “Deactivate your hustle mood, you sell fake Monets.”

“No, she means real,” Zemo corrected, “This gallery is specialized in stolen artwork. Monet. Van Gogh. Classics.” “I kinda thought that was implied,” I said, following Sharon and Zemo and beginning to relax in the shockingly calm environment, “No offense.” Sharon scoffed, “None taken, a girl’s gotta do what she can to survive. By the way, who are you?”

“Y/n Y/l/n,” I answered, “Sam’s sister.” “Hmm,” Sharon hummed, looking me over once before turning around to hurry Sam and Bucky along, “Come on, you guys need to change. I’m hosting clients in an hour. You,” she pointed to me, “Second door on your left, I’ll bring something up for you.” At the promise of shedding the over exposing dress and blistering heels, I had never moved faster in my life.

————

I took the opportunity to catch my breath while I could, the night had been a little too exciting than any of us had wanted. Sitting on the edge of Sharon’s bed with my elbows balanced on my knees, I felt the adrenaline rush I’d been running on start to subside.

The door opened, bringing in Sharon and her garment of choice. “This looked like it would fit you,” she said, tossing me a black jumpsuit that looked ten times more comfortable than what I was in. She walked over to her wardrobe and pulled out an outfit for herself, “I gotta change too, back to back?” “Works for me,” I replied, turning around and beginning to unzip the dress.

“So you said you’re Sam’s sister but your last name isn’t Wilson?” Sharon asked, I could hear the sound of her clothes hitting the floor.

“We grew up together,” I freed myself of the dress and kicked it to the corner of the room.

“That doesn’t explain why you’re here though,” she said, “This is probably the shittiest family road trip you could go on so clearly there’s a reason.” I looked over to the wardrobe, a pair of black boots sitting on the floor next to it. I used my energy to levitate them and landed them at Sharon’s side. Her dry chuckle served as her reaction. “I kinda begged him to bring me,” I explained as I pulled the jumpsuit up my body, “He was going to send me back home before John Walker decided to not so subtly threaten me with the Sokovian Accords, figured I’d be safer here with them.” “Safer?” Sharon scoffed, “Did he say this before or after you were being shot at by bounty hunters?”

“Well, between getting shipped off to jail and going undercover with a superhero and a Super Soldier as protection, I’ll take my chances here.” I heard Sharon walk away, presumably finished dressing. I zipped up the suit and tightened the belt, turning around after to find her leaned up against her dresser with her hands in her pockets. “Look, I know we just met but let me do you a favor and shed some light on the subject of heroics. It’s all bullshit. The whole costume, nickname, swoop-in-and-save-the-day act is all hypocrisy. I get that you’re young, you’ve got,” she waved a hand at mine, “Whatever that is. Maybe you want to do some good, maybe you just want to feel like you’re a part of something. Maybe you didn’t think it through at all and just thought it would be cool to run with a superhero. But if you’re smart, you’ll get your ass on a plane to anywhere but here and stay clear of all this.”

There was so much going through my head that I wanted to throw back at her, proving her speech completely wrong. Then I remembered that this woman had sacrificed more than most had and the government had turned their backs on her. She’d stuck her neck out for Steve and Sam and had been punished for it. Plus, she was kind enough to give us refuge when she had every right now to. I wasn’t in a place to criticize her. If anything, she should have been a cautionary tale. “I’ve had these powers all my life and have never known what to do with them,” I responded, “I want to help people and this is the best way for me to do that. As easy as it would be for some people to walk away, this is personal and I can’t leave now.” Sharon stared back at me silently before pushing herself off the dresser and brushing past me. There were layers of her expression, if I could peel each one back I thought I might get to the sadness I suspected she felt regarding her current life status. She opened her wardrobe, pulled out a pair of combat boots and handed them to me. “Then take a step back and ask yourself how far you’re willing to go. And if the three of you live long enough to get there, is it going to be worth the hell that’ll come afterwards?” She gave me a half smile before leaving the room, her heavy words hanging in the air. Steve had been my friend, Sam was my brother and Bucky was quickly climbing the ranks of people I cared about. I was going to see this through to the end with them, but what was the end? Was it retrieving the rest of the serum and stopping the Flag Smashers? Was it only two of us returning? One? None? Questions I didn’t have the answers to swirled in my mind as I stared at the door, wondering what awaited us for the rest of the night.

----

A/N: Next chapter is going to be...let’s just say there’s gonna be a lot of developments. A lot. Hope you guys are enjoying it, let me know what you thought or if you’d like to be tagged.

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