#people keep saying they’re sorry for your loss. Your Loss. that is how they refer to your brothers. how they refer to you.

[villainsidestep]

oh survivor!fawn we are really in it now

[pollard-zero]

would love to think abt fawn again but. genuinely cannot yet without thinking of certain lines in our own writing and taking psychic damage from our own grief

[buyingaradspaceship]

in light of recent events (bob bryar’s death) I’m inspired to write this post I’ve been thinking about for a while. I feel like I’m noticing a growing morality crisis in people. especially kids (well, teens). it feels like in an effort to distance themselves from Morally Bad things (eg. racism and transphobia) they’ll distance themselves from Morally Bad people, which is often fine in itself, but when it spirals into celebrating someone’s death to continue this distancing, it’s nauseating. it also reduces our ability to work together but perhaps that’s a different tangent to my intention in this post.

I don’t think that everyone needs to be sad, but I think we’re missing the art of ‘if you don’t have anything nice to say then shut the fuck up’. I mean, when the queen died there were some quality memes. when musk/trump/etc. dies there will likely be relief. there’s a difference between a villain and Just Some Guy who did bad shit.

I’m sure it’s partially linked to Those Damn Phones (oh no, not another person about to reference a panopticon effect). I worry how much people feel they’re under surveillance to be perfect. to always choose the ‘right side’ in a situation. and it’s especially easy to blow it out of proportion online, we don’t see the people we affect when we act like this. I mean if a friend came to me tomorrow and told me their nan died I wouldn’t find out who she voted for and whether she was a racist transphobe before choosing the path of ‘sorry for your loss’ versus ‘lmao good, I refuse to be sad about losing a bigot’. this shouldn’t be any different.

I simply believe that if you aren’t sad about bob bryar’s death you’re allowed to keep that to yourself. I promise you’ll be okay if you don’t post online about how you’re glad. and I promise that the morality police won’t come after you if you’re found to be empathetic to ‘the enemy’. you’re not a Certified Better Person for being vitriolic toward people who aren’t inside your moral box. idk I just sense this is a symptom of something bigger that makes me concerned.

[usmsgutterson]

Hi !! I’m binge reading all your writing rn and I’m still looking obsessed <3 I’d love to request any of the crows x a reader who’s an identical twin, their twin is very outgoing and knows the crows well as they’ve worked together for heists and such but the reader is basically the opposite, they’re on the quieter side and prefer literature and baking to whatever the crows are getting up to. When they meet the crows they’re mistaken as their twin, maybe because their twin asked them to help on a job without informing the crows? Anyway I don’t really have a preference for what type of writing this is or the crows it’s for ^^ thank you :D 👾

The Librarian-platonic! crows x gn! reader

Hi! I'm so sorry that this took me a while--my tumblr inbox is being glitchy and weird atm and requests have been disappearing and reappearing at random so I caught this in my inbox while I was lucky.

As the title indicates, I added one thing! The reader is a librarian because I was like "they gotta have a job. They like to read, librarian it is" and I hope that you're okay with that!

Generally though, thank you for sending this in, this concept was a lot of fun and definitely a good way to try to get myself used to writing requests frequently again after several months of near-burnout and demotivation.

Fic type- this one is literally just fluff

Warnings- mentions of murder (generally), mentions of murder by thwack of thick book to ones head, and theres an allusion to body parts being cut up and put into a box, then leaving that box to float to the bottom of the ocean (Jesper refers to it as slice and dice, and I promise it's less graphic than it seems)

You didn't know why you'd agreed to help your twin. You were their opposite--they were all about the life of crime that most Barrel residents lived, where you were content to work at the library you'd been working at since you were seventeen and sell your baked goods at the market stalls on the weekends.

You did not like the Barrel at all.

You resented how easy it was to find yourself a victim of pickpocketing whenever you wandered into a gambling den on that side of town or even just while you walked through the streets.

You much preferred your apartment and the smell of fresh cinnamon buns to the vague smell of swamp mingling with gasoline and peoples loud, rowdy ways as they ambled from one gambling den to the next. You hated the idea of all of it--why dress in your finest if you're intending to go gamble, when there's always a chance that you'll lose everything you gave, and lose more than that when your aim had been to win it all back after the initial loss?

But still, agreeing to help your twin was a commitment you'd made. You had the layout of a library with something valuable and had agreed to go to the Slat to draw up a sketch, but the hand on your shoulder stopped you in your tracks.

You proceeded into the Slat--the building your twin had said to meet up in--and sat at a table after grabbing yourself a brandy. Like they were being brought to you by some kind of gravitational pull, a tall Fjerdan and the girl he had on his arm walked up to you.

"Y/T/N?" the girl asked. "You've just left the Slat for breakfast. Did you change your mind?"

You blinked, confusedly. "I'm not--"

Another girl spoke up from behind you, and the sound of her voice startled you just enough to make you flinch.

Where had she come from? Was she the kind of person who could steal peoples secrets from the shadows? Was she a spider who hid in the dark corners where people were too oblivious to look, taking their conversations back to the infamous Kaz Brekker in the aim to turn over a profit?

"Not Y/T/N," she said. "Their twin."

A gray eyed boy with guns on his hips approached next, arm lazily draped over a boy with dark red hair and eyes that made him resemble something of a deer when startled.

"What are you doing in the Barrel?" He asked. "Your twin says that you tend to keep to your routine. Working at the library in the Financial District during the day, spending your friday nights baking so that you can sell your goods at the market stalls. You're not the type to come round here."

"They wanted to meet with me," you said. "There's a library out in the countryside that's become a tourist attraction since the Merchant Council actually put effort into proper marketing for it? I've visited every other weekend since it opened. They said that they need me to sketch the layout in the absence of a blueprint, which I know for a fact was destroyed in case anyone tried to steal it to figure out the best entrance and exit points. Did they not tell you they asked me for help?"

"What's your cut of the final profit?" You didn't have to know that voice to recognize it. It was Kaz Brekker, the most infamous criminal in all of Ketterdam, the only person who'd scared Pekka Rollins away from anything, even if the thing he'd scared Rollins away from had been his own criminal empire.

"Can I ask you what all of your names are first? Despite how much my twin talks about you, I don't know your faces, even if there's a near guaranteed chance that I know your names."

"Inej," said the girl who'd snuck up on you. "Inej Ghafa. The boy with the guns is Jesper, the doe eyed one is Wylan. Matthias is the big, blond, brooding yellow tulip who's glowering at you right now, and the beautiful girl on his arm is Nina. I'm sure you know who Kaz is?"

"Too well," you said. "How's the leg?"

Kaz smirked as the crew began to pull up chairs, where he took the spot to your right.

"It could be better than it is now, but it's not as bad as it is in winter. Your cut of the money?"

"They promised to give me 40 percent of their share if I sketched out the layout," you said. "You're being paid twelve million for this. I get just less than one million after the math is said and done."

"In the interest of paying the reason that we get this heist right as rain with minimal issue fairly, what is twelve million through eight?" Kaz asked the group that'd formed around the table whilst you'd been too focused on taking a sip of your brandy to notice.

"1.5 million," Wylan answered within seconds. "Cuts two million off each of our paychecks."

"Well, if Y/N is decent for a blueprint sketch, I'm sure you be too busy with the knowledge that you still have your lives, the clothes on your backs and the homes to which you'll go to notice the half a million you would've missed out on."

Jesper grinned at you. "He's terrifying," he said. "But, in the end, fairness in terms of these things is important to him. He's greed incarnate but he doesn't take well to enemies, so he's making sure your twin doesn't rip you off."

"A baker-slash-librarian and literature fanatic is hardly an enemy," Nina interjected.

"They've got books as tall as the length from my wrist to the bend in my elbow in some libraries," Jesper said. "They hit Kaz with one of those while he's not expecting it, he goes down quick. His death can be made even quicker, provided they use chocolate chunks--which require chopping on a cutting board--in their baking. Slice and dice, ship him to the bottom of the ocean in a box that's two feet tall and one foot wide, and all evidence of their having murdered the Bastard of the Barrel is gone."

"Killing Kaz Brekker is not in my interest," you said. "Not at all. Matter of fact, just sketching this is, and even then, the money is the only reason I'm here. I mean this respectfully, but I miss home. I miss the comfort of my bed and being able to enjoy a fine Wednesday morning without worrying about losing a twenty kruge bill while I walk back home."

"Y/T/N said you were aloof," Nina commended. "Like Matthias. Do we have a liar in our midst?"

"No," you said. "Though I wouldn't say aloof is the right word. I would say quiet, reserved, and uninterested in crime are the right ones, but you've caught me in a moment of sass. Let me switch the brandy for wine and I'll get angsty instead."

Jesper barked a laugh, Wylan, Inej, and Nina grinned. Kaz smirked, and you saw a glint of horror pass through Matthias' gaze. It made you laugh.

"Relax, Matthias," you said. "Want me happy, I'll take a glass of kvas or some gin."

You saw his expression relax, and just shook your head. You were in for a hell of a time with that crew, and part of you couldn't wait for it to really begin.

[shallowrambles]

I'm so bothered by the fetishization of twins and triplets, actually. If I could erase anything, it'd be the flippant references to this. :(

To be clear, I'm not pro-purity culture. I just- this one stings and I have to literally curate my experience so hard because of it

I can't stand when it's used as "code" for "queer experience" either because it's just positioning queer as "unnatural / evil," and that bothers the heck outta me when they're equated. Inappropriate boundary crossing, grooming, and abuse =/= insta-queer. It's like HMMM. The way ppl stan the crowley hookup when it's a shows canon incest kink interest squicks the fuck outta me and like...the whole Demon!Dean is a study in disinhibition! Disinhibition was shown as very evil / shameful / uncomfortable experience for Dean, like, the entirety of season 10...Sam even tries to comfort him about it. But because Crowley-Dean supports those sides of Dean ppl want in their ships, they overlook that aspect of it.

There's also the American-ness of howling at the moon and total "I do what I WANT" as being a good thing, when it's clearly shown as...not. There's gotta be balance, man.

Reduced inhibition is OFTEN used as circumvention of consent, as Dean recounts in his John-and-the-bar story. And disinhibitions are ofc not always a reflection of true self. I'm thinking of a neuro unit, where an injured TBI survivor hits on his granddaughter. Is that his "true personality?" Of course not! It's a loss of free will, judgment, and choice due to the injury and/or disinhibition.

And this is a show about free will, after all.

Drinking and drugging tend to ‘loosen you up’ by reducing inhibitions. But they remove your judgment and CHOICE about things, too. That's not necessarily free will. Reduced inhibitions can be enjoyable, but they can also create risks and dangers. Our inhibitions serve to keep us acting within an acceptable threshold; reducing these inhibitions can push you past the threshold.

Drug addiction is sometimes potrayed as "freeing" but ofc that isn't the complete story. Even so, the show doesn't agree that the punishment fits the crime. Like Crowley, Randy is complex, and he has real feelings and emotions for his relationships!

I feel like the Claire episode puts this in full display:

///

10x09

DEAN: All right, so I get there. I sneak in, and it is nuts. I mean, people are drinking and they’re smoking and they’re—they’re snorting whatever. There’s a five-hundred pound guy on stage with a Mohawk just screaming. And, uh, my mind is blown. I don’t even know what to do. Then this girls walks up and she says “Hey, why don’t you come over and sit down with me and my friends at our table?” All right!

SAM: Yeah, and they get him drunk. First time.

DEAN: But not fun drunk. I’m not quite sure what was in that stuff, but the room starts to spin, and I feel like I’m going to puke … forever. And right about that time, I hear him. “Dean Winchester!”

[Cas looks confused, but Sam just smiles.]

DEAN: My old man. I don’t know how, but he found me. And now I’m really freaking out, because he’s just standing there, not saying anything. I look around, and everybody else is freaking out, too. In fact, nobody’s even looking him in the eye. And finally, this one guy with, like, a safety pin through his nose and a—a “Kill Everything” tattoo looks up and he says, “Sorry, sir.”

---

[Claire is sitting on a bed by herself when she hears footsteps. The door opens, and Salinger is standing there. He motions for his men to leave, and he turns to Claire.]

SALINGER: Hi. [He finishes off his beer, then turns and locks the door.] It’s Claire, right?

[She won’t look at him, until he’s standing in front of her. He reaches down, taking hold of her chin, making her look up at him.]

You really are a pretty one, you know that?

[She lifts her leg, kneeing him in the groin. She runs to the door and tries to unlock it, but Salinger is right behind her, grabbing her as she screams.]

[One of Salinger’s men opens the front door to find Cas, Sam, and Dean standing there. Cas lifts a hand, and the man goes flying backwards.

--

CASTIEL:

Where’s the girl?

[They hear screaming come from upstairs. In the room, Claire is screaming, trying to fight Salinger off. He’s trying to hold her down, and the door flies open. Castiel is standing there, and Salinger turns to look at him, giving Claire enough of an opening to kick Salinger in the face and get up. She kicks him, over and over again.]

CASTIEL: Claire. Claire!

[Castiel grabs her arm, and she finally stops kicking. Cas leads her from the room. They walk downstairs, and Claire moves away from Cas.]

--

[Claire climbs into the back seat of the Impala, and Castiel sits beside her. Claire smiles.]

CASTIEL: Are you okay?

CLAIRE: Yeah.

[She moves over, laying her head on Castiel’s chest, wrapping her arms around him. Cas hugs her back. Sam climbs in the front seat and glances back. He turns his head back towards the house as he hears shouting, then leaves the car as fast as he can.]

///

10x10

(Scene changes to Castiel pacing in the bunker library.)

CASTIEL: She barely speaks to me.

(Sam comes into view, sitting.)

CASTIEL: She’s like a wounded animal, just watching me.

SAM: Look, Cas, you know what? You really tried to do the right thing that night. You did. This guy Claire was hanging out with, Randy, all he did was use her.

CASTIEL: Well, she thought he was kind. And for that, she loved him. Shows how little kindness there was in her life. You know, whatever Randy did, he didn’t deserve –

SAM: No, yeah, I know, I know. I hear you. Dean has had to kill before. We both have. But that was –

DEAN: That was what?

(Sam rises, surprised. Dean walks in from the war room.)

SAM: Dean.

DEAN: That was a massacre. That’s what it was. (Dean looks from Sam to Cas.)

DEAN: There was a time I was a hunter, not a stone-cold killer?

(Cas and Sam look troubled.)

DEAN: You can say it. You’re not wrong. I crossed the line. Guys, this thing’s gotta go.

(Dean looks down at the Mark of Cain on his arm.)

///

And 10x22

MR. McKINLEY: By suggesting my daughter was a slut?

DEAN: I'll admit that thought crossed my mind. Then I came here, and I smelled the deceit and the beatings and the shame that pervade this home.

MR. McKINLEY: You shut your face right now.

DEAN: And you know what? I don't blame Rose anymore. No wonder she put on that skank outfit and went out there looking for validation, right into the arms of the monster that killed her. (Dean looks at Mr. McKinley and in a very calm voice says) Joe, who did this?

[syndullqs]

𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 — 𝒆𝒛𝒓𝒂 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒈𝒆𝒓

summary — your scars have never been what you’d consider beautiful, until ezra bridger sees them

warnings — gn!reader, mentions of injury & past trauma, fluff, scars

requested by — @juliajempire

𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐊𝐄𝐏𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍, your scars. a stain on your skin that you can never seem to get off, no matter how badly you wanted them to go away. birthed from years of war on your home planet, your scars were something that you were ashamed of. the loss they represented was something you didn’t wish to remember.

how you managed to keep them hidden for so long was something you asked yourself every day. living on the ghost with the ghost crew didn’t provide much privacy; at least you bunked with sabine.

she was the only one that knew, understandably. she was the only one that had seen them.

“you know, there’s no need to hide them,” sabine would softly encourage. you would shake your head.

“there is every need to hide them,” you didn’t like how they made you look; broken. you weren’t broken. you weren’t something to be fixed. you were just as capable as anyone else, even with scarred skin.

there was only one scar people could see if they looked hard enough. the tip of the scar stretched in front of your ear, but the rest of it ran down your collar bone. shrapnel would do that to you. ezra bridger had an eye for detail, and you hated it.

“where’d you get that?” he asked innocently, referring to the scar he barely saw.

“an accident,” you mumbled. you hated how curious he was and how he constantly wanted to know who you were. you didn’t blame him, per se. none of the crew knew that much about you.

“oh,” ezra, as he got older, knew when he needed to stop talking. relatively speaking. there were times where his mouth ran faster than his brain or his common sense. “i’m sorry,”

“not your fault, ezra,” you hummed softly, leaning back against the booth you both were sat in. you could feel his eyes on you still, but you didn’t give in; you knew what he wanted to know.

after a while, ezra pulled his eyes away but he didn’t move.

“i’ve always believed that scars were beautiful,” he blurted. you snapped your head in his direction. was he delusional?

“this jedi training is getting to your head,” you scoffed. you wanted to move, but something kept you there. something kept you glued to the cushions you sat on.

“no! i’m serious! they tell stories, stories we can’t always say with our mouths,” he was sounding strangely philosophical, but you just kept your eyes on him. no one’s told you your scars were beautiful and meant it.

“you’ve not seen my scars,”

“no, but i can sense them. through the force.” you raised an eyebrow at him, silently asking if he was being serious. based on his unchanging expression, he was. you were silent, processing his words. he’s not said anything to you about them, but how long as he known?

“it’s not the story that’s bothering you, though,” he pointed out. you rolled your eyes and sat forwards, placing your hands over your face. blasted jedi.

“scars aren’t pretty, ezra. they’re not exactly alluring,” you reasoned with a heavy heart. it was true; your scars made you feel like a monster. he didn’t see the ones that littered your back, the large on that cut deep across your collar bone and interrupted the peaceful harmony on your face. he didn’t see those. you did. you felt them.

“i’m,” you stopped yourself, feeling your chest tighten with the introduction of an old enemy, “damaged,” you managed.

“you’re experienced,” he corrected, “and for the record, your beauty never, ever, scared me,” he sounded lighthearted, a cheery tone to his voice but you were stunned. you lifted your eyes to meet his, your expression soft but broken.

“you think i’m beautiful?” you asked. even though you hated being this vulnerable, there really wasn’t another choice.

“i do,” he affirmed. you flicked your eyes away for a moment, allowing yourself to relish in the reality that your scars weren’t ugly. they didn’t make you ugly. it just meant that your story was painful, but they were marks of perseverance. maybe being vulnerable was good for the soul.

“thank you,” you hummed. he laid his hand on top of yours with a bright smile.

“anytime,”

THIS TOOK ME FOREVER IM SO SORRY also i apologize it’s so short i wrote this in between classes haha, so i hope you enjoy!!

[bottoms-movie]

SAMBUCKY FIC RECS

so a lot of people seemed interested this so here it is! if ya’ll like this, i can make more parts! this is split into three categories: based on tfatws, canon divergence, and au. all fics are on ao3. all of the fics are complete. some fics do include smut, but i included the ratings, so make sure to check for that based on preferences!

also, feel free to send me asks on your thoughts on any fics or if you’re interested in another sambucky fic rec post!

BASED ON TFATWS

Fill the Hole in my Heart | Not Rated | 4,848 words

Bucky dives into the world of online dating. The girls are nice, but there seems to be something missing. When he goes to Louisiana to meet Sam and his family, he realizes what that something was.

Skip, Reverse | Explicit | 7,945 words

Sam stood in the middle of their local Target with a throw pillow in each hand. The one in his left hand was butter-soft and matched the drapes in the living room, but Bucky had walked by five seconds ago and declared the one on the right “absolutely fucking hideous,” and so now Sam kind of wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything.

Sometimes romance is just bickering with your superhero partner/roommate at several different Target locations.

just won’t do right | General | 7,524 words

Sam's eyebrows go up, impressed, and he reaches over to squeeze Torres' shoulder, "This is amazing, kid. Thanks, really."

Bucky sits and watches in utter horror as the pink darkens on Torres' cheeks.

Oh, he realizes. Oh. Fuck.

body language will do the trick | Explicit | 12,598 words

“There’s no way you’re going to win this,” Bucky tells Sam. “I am going to love language the shit out of you.”

Sam gives him a considering look. “You do seem like you’d be really good at that.”

Bucky’s cheeks flush with heat. “Thanks, pal, I—”

Sam smirks, and Bucky’s eyes narrow. He shoves his elbow into Sam’s side and stalks off, leaving Sam cackling behind him.

“Your ass looks great today!” Sam yells.

Bucky reaches up to flip Sam the bird, and he definitely does not feel grateful that he wore his good jeans today. Bucky’s ass looks great every day.

checklist | General | 4,716 words

Bucky Barnes keeps a mental checklist of things he knows to be true at any given moment. Sometimes the checklist changes, because he's learned something else about himself. It changes, for example, when he starts realizing that maybe he would like to kiss Sam Wilson. Maybe.

best laid plans | 3 parts | 26,808 words

part 1: baby you’re the wave and I’m ready for the crash | Explicit | 6,616 words

Nah, my plan’s better,” Sam declares, before clapping Bucky on the shoulder.

“I’m sorry, what plan? Was that a plan? It didn’t sound like a plan to me, it sounded like a vague intention,” says Bucky, still scowling, and Sam grins.

“We’re winging it, the plan is a work in progress! Now c’mon, we gotta make some wardrobe adjustments if we’re gonna get into that club.”

Sam and Bucky have some unorthodox methods of going undercover in a club.

He Doesn’t Deserve You! | Teen | 5,154 words

Sam and Bucky have an argument that results in Bucky being left at the bar. A group of drunk strangers assumes Bucky just got dumped and quickly adopt him for the night to make him feel better.

Reconstitution | Not Rated | 10,228 words

“I didn’t back Steve on the Sokovia Accords,” Sam says unprompted one day. They’re so close to apprehending the Flagsmashers and wrapping up this ridiculous saga.

“I don’t follow,” Bucky says.

“I was the one who refused to sign it first. Not Steve.”

Sam says it so softly that Bucky has to strain to hear him. Sam is loud and chatty and half the time he keeps up a constant stream of chatter just to get on Bucky’s nerves, but Bucky’s coming to realize that when he really wants to make himself heard, he’s soft spoken and mild. Bucky doesn’t entirely follow his train of thought, though.

Or: a breaking down, remaking, and coming back stronger than ever before

Stuck On You (You Suez, You Luez) | Explicit | 10,136 words

Sam and Bucky’s mission was simple: stowaway on a ship suspected of weapons-smuggling in the Suez, gather enough intel to report back, and hop off again in Port Said. Something gets in the way, and a day-long recon session turns into a week of chess, bickering, semi-successful movie references, and trying not to go slowly insane.

His Touch | Mature | 1,006 words

When Baron Zemo touched Bucky’s face, Sam Wilson saw red.

Bucky just wants Sam to comfort him.

rusted | Teen | 2,358 words

Bucky doesn’t grace him with a sound of acknowledgement. He’s been quiet, ever since that night with Zemo. Well. Quieter. It’s almost like. Every time he opens his mouth, he’s half-expecting the Winter Soldier to come out.

He hasn’t, yet. Won’t, ever again. Not unbidden. Sam’s sure of that. Bucky, not so much.

‘You busy?’

‘’m scouring the—’

‘Good,’ Sam cuts the idiot off, ‘I need you to help me shave.’

advanced therapy methods for large adult men | 2 parts | 11,717 words

part 1: The Gottman Method for Dealing with Conflict | Mature | 4,187 words

Bucky and Dr. Raynor have a follow-up session and two entirely different conversations about his relationship status.

Or: Let's do more couples therapy, James.

it’s always Bucky’s Fault | 3 parts | 20,089 words

part 1: Did you see it? | Explicit | 3,905 words

In which there's supposedly a viral video of the Winter Soldier on his knees sucking off Captain America.

Everything is, like always, completely Bucky's fault.

CANON DIVERGENCE

Even in the Present (I Am Living in the Past) | Teen | 16,977 words

Sometimes Sam still questions everything about his ability to shoulder the 80-year legacy he now bears. His history, and the history of his loss, sticks with him and even in healing he doubts whether or not he is able to fulfil his purpose, and whether he may find lasting peace and happiness.

Told in fluid-fragments, the story moves between his therapy sessions after his return from active duty and the post-Endgame present.

You never forget your first | Teen | 3,650 words

The story of Bucky and Sam getting together in a series of firsts.

leftovers | Mature | 19,249 words

With the New Avengers up and running, Sam finally has time to start dating again. Unfortunately, it's not going as well as he'd hoped.

Partners | Explicit | 7,235 words

Sam's not sure if he can be Captain America. He's not a supersoldier. He can't throw the shield. He's just a dude.

And Bucky Barnes is just a nuisance, albeit a pretty good-looking one.

I’ll explain everything to the geese | Explicit | 50,949 words

Bucky is so competent that it hurts my feelings is not a rational complaint to have about a person, and yet, after a year of being Captain America and partnering up with Bucky for the new and improved, post-Blip Avengers, that’s kinda how Sam’s feeling.

It’s not great. It maybe leads to Sam making some rash, ill-advised decisions like claiming he has a previously undisclosed superpower, and then getting caught in a web of lies when he ends up actually developing that surprisingly inconvenient superpower. Talking to birds had seemed like a harmless superpower, but it turns out that birds have a lot of opinions, and they don’t hesitate to tell Sam about them, especially when it comes to his supposedly subpar courting skills. Which is ridiculous, because Sam isn’t courting Bucky. Right?

Night Swimming | Teen | 2,056 words

“Come on. The princess has a new arm for you and I gotta see if there’s a barber around here willing to tackle your…” Sam waved a hand at Bucky’s face.

“I don’t want a new arm,” Bucky immediately bit out.

And then -

“I can cut my own damn hair.”

Sam just raised both eyebrows. Crossed his arms over his chest again.

Dared Bucky to prove him wrong.

AU

Cpvert Coffee & Flirtation Specialist | General | 5,542 words

The reporter says "—for Captain America to—"

And Bucky rolls his eyes. "Oh, here we go."

Sam looks at him then tips his head sideways, got a weird grin on his face. "Not a fan?"

"Not that. Just… the guy seems too good to be true, right? Wings and a shield?? Come on."

"Uh, is that why your eyes are like glued to the screen whenever he's on?" Kate says. "Is that why you call him Captain Tight Ass?"

"He's a goddamn show-off, and you know it. Tight ass or not."

Just then Sam snorts, real loud, grabs his coffee and suffers a horribly controlled laugh on his way out the door.

Stolen Moments | Teen | 98,767 words

“No,” Sam said, chuckling. “I don’t cheat,” he swept his gaze up and down James’ body, “even with guys who look like you. But, I’m bored and a little pissed, so if you wanna sit here and shoot the shit ‘til my man shows back up, I’m game.”

Never one to back to back down from a challenge - especially a challenge who looked like Sam Wilson - Bucky took another swig from his bottle and replied, “Sure, doll. I’ve got nothing but time.”

Steve has Sam. Bucky wants Sam. Sam wasn’t expecting any of this.

Such a Whirlwind Since I Saw You | Teen | 10,871 words

The Men of Letters turned Bucky Barnes into a weapon. Hunters Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanov are determined to save him, but they're going to need Sam Wilson's help.

“So you want me to ditch work, drive across America with you until you find your friend, who you thought was dead - all while avoiding some high-tech hunters who are out for blood?” Sam is asking.

Steve shrugs a shoulder, looking a little sheepish. Natasha almost laughs at the dry tone of Sam’s voice, but he's not wrong.

You Got What I Need? | Explicit | 37,588 words

Sam and Bucky are both in a bind, professionally. Nat points out a solution that neither men like. To save their careers they play along or rather, stop playing all together.

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being an Avenger with the power of persuasion

Avengers x reader

warnings:

a/n: towards the end this branches off into the fatws timeline but there’s no explicit spoilers

prompt: anonymous: “Can you do hcs for the avengers with a reader who has powers like Allison Hargreeves from The Umbrella Academy?”

the avengers were a little iffy about you because......someone with your power was hard to trust at first

“mind control isn’t as fun as it sounds, you guys. i really don’t wanna keep my guard up at all times when i’m at home base” -clint

“yeah, i’m not sure if i trust this one yet. i mean, i’m totally immune to mind control, but what if they mind control someone to come after me? and they have easy access to the place?” -tony

“excuse me, did you just say you were immune to mind control?” -nat

“he most certainly is not” -wanda

i mean, you get it and all. you heard stories of the avengers’ past encounters. it couldve messed them up

and they had no character references for you

you were new and mysterious

and your powers could be dangerous if you used them the wrong way

“well, i say we take a chance on them. they might surprise us” -cap

“i knew you would say some crap like that” -tony

“i thought a surprise was the opposite of what we wanted?” -bruce

you were put on the team soon after, but you had to have a buddy on missions

*pretending that we have deaf/hoh!clint like in the comics* you were buddied up with clint since your powers were auditory

“you can’t sign me an involuntary command, can you?” -clint

“no, sir” -you

“cool, cool, cool” -clint

stealth looked good on you, ngl

you were able to get behind heavy gunmen and whisper commands to them

“simon says you are an avenger now, shoot the enemy” -you

“simon says i am your new boss, take out your ex-coworkers” -you

“simon says give me your keycard” -you

“simon says i’m not the enemy, you are” -you

“not bad down there, y/n!” -sam

“thanks! now can somebody give me a lift to that one all the way up there?” -you

you proved yourself that day, so everyone got a lot more comfortable with you

and you made a promise that day that you’d never use your powers on them

but occasionally someone would ask you a simple favor, like putting them to sleep or making them focus on a project

“i think the focus one could be a fire hazard” -you

“so just come and get me! or let me die, that’d be fine, too” -tony

“whatever...simon says focus on the new tech” -you

time went by and things got tough, especially when the sokovia accords rolled in

“i wasn’t even there for that, mr. secretary” -you

“and i’m aware of that, mx. l/n, but you still pose a threat to people around the world. you have the means to walk into any place you want and do anything you want. you can see how that makes people uneasy, don’t you?” -ross

“i’ve never used my abilities for anything but good” -you

“what y/n is trying to say is—” -steve

“he knows what i’m trying to say, but apparently that’s the issue” -you

you were “grounded” with wanda

and pretty pissed about it

“i can understand why i’m here, y/n, but you? what did you do?” -wanda

“i intimidate men in charge, i guess” -you

sounds about right, huh?

but clint broke you out

“finallyyyyy! vision is such a drag” -you

and when you got to germany, you were conflicted with yourself

should you use your powers on the teammates who wanted you locked away?

if you got into their comms, you could stop it in an instant

but that’d take some time

“hi, simon(e)! i’m, uh, scott! i think you’re pretty neat!” -scott (p.s. y/n’s hero name is simon/simone. whatever you prefer idrc)

“thanks...and what do you do?” -you

“he shrinks!” -sam

you snuck out to the pavement and tried to hack their comms, but could only do it one at a time

so you got the spider kid

“simon says stick the cat man to the side of the plane” -you

but that cat had claws

alright, it might be harder than you think

“oh god, simon(e)?” -scott

“what is it?” -you

“i’m a little nervous for my next trick...would it be too much to ask if you did your little command thing for me?” -scott

“ughhhhh...simon says, go on with your ‘trick’” -you

and all the sudden he shot up into the air

“oh, nice” -you

you really hated fighting with these guys, but you were out of options and now cap wanted you to come with him, he wouldn’t leave without you

“steve, i’m sorry. simon says leave without us” -you

and that he did, which left you to be caught by a hair

“so close, weren’t you?” -tony

“simon says go to hell” -you

“very funny, guess i’m immune to mind control, after all” -tony

having a mouth restraint place on you that tony had been saving ever since you joined the team

one that “team cap” heavily protested the second they saw it

“tony, that’s wrong! don’t you trust them enough not to do that? they’re going to hate you after all of this” -wanda

“it’s either me or them. at least mine is comfortable” -tony

kinda fucked lol but understandable ig

having to testify without a voice, only able to type or write

but eventually you made your case and were able to make a deal, but part of that deal was to keep your mouth sealed when in the presence of authority since your voice was deemed a weapon ;)

kinda a dick move if you ask me

so you said fuck that and became a fugitive with steve + friends

but used your powers less and less

again, only for favors because it was hard to get peace in these crappy motels

“simon says kill that roach, oh god” -you @ steve

“you were an avenger and you can’t kill a roach?” -sam

“don’t start with me, sam, or you’re sleeping on the floor” -you

“you wouldn’t” -sam

“don’t test me” -you

waiting and waiting for some kind of turning point that didnt come until alien invasion 2.0

and you tried so hard to stop thanos from snapping, but the stones got the best of you as you were frozen in time

but fortunately you didn’t dust

leaving you to get a rematch against thanos when the time would come

and reuniting with tony just for him to lecture you with the rest of the team

“go fuck yourself, tony” -you

“oh, thank god they didn’t say ‘simon says’” -that raccoon you’ve known for like 3 weeks

“do you ever shut up?” -you

“no, he does not” -nebula

anyways your time did not come and you waited five years for another chance

and although you did not redeem yourself on your own, you were just glad that your side, humanity, had won

but just before thanos had ceased to exist, you told him

“simon says to feel the pain of loss for all of eternity” -you

it may have been cruel, but it’s what he deserved

the next step was for you and sam to be pardoned of your crimes

but you didn’t exactly part ways just because...what else was there for you to do? the two of you were close after your time on the run

and all was well until he decided to give the shield up

“oh, bucky’s gonna be pissed” -you

“he’ll be fine” -sam

now, bucky had mixed feelings about you

he was nervous about your powers, but you did save him

and he knew what it felt like not to be trusted

so he gave you a chance and partnered with you after the “new captain america” and the “flag smashers” fiasco

legally, if you used your powers on a government official/soldier you’d go back in the slammer, but it was quite tempting, even if it were just a “simon says punch yourself in the face”

and off to madripoor you went with...zemo

“are you going to persuade me into something petty, mx. l/n?” -zemo

“i’ve gotta make it worth it, honestly, but there’s no rule against me doing so, so at least i won’t feel bad” -you

and who knows what’s next?

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @lokihiddles // @frostedficrecs // @lotsoffandomrecs // @johnmurphyisqueer // @teenwaywardasgardian // @pappydaddy // @captainshazamerica // @freya-xo // @ravenmoore14 // @thisetaernallove // @ofthedewthesunlight // @canarypoint // @zoeyserpentluck // @randomawesomeperson102 // @ghost-bich // @wonderful-writer // @of-a-chaotic-mind // @groovyfluxie // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @lxncelot // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @petersgroupie // @agentshortstacc // @rosadiaz-sarayvargas-harleyquinn // @werewolf-himbo // @comiocudequemtalendo1 // @mochamoff // @the-marvel-meme-emporium // @summersimmerus //

[wicked-mind]

Once More With Feeling

Summary: When Steve brings an enhanced human with the ability to sense and manipulate emotions/feelings to join the team, she has an immediate interest in the puzzle known as James Bucky Barnes. And Bucky can’t help but be infatuated with her abilities and eventually her.

Word Count: 7.8k

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, mentions of torture.

Italics are used for flashbacks/memories.

All Writings Masterlist

As always, any likes, comments, or reblogs are deeply appreciated (:

*gifs not mine

“Who’s that?” Y/N asked Sam with a smile, nodding over towards the man sitting on the patio with a beer bottle in his hand, staring off into the distance with a grim look on his features. He wore a black leather jacket that was zipped up to the collar, dark pants, boots tied perfectly, and black gloves on his hands.

“Ah that’s James. His friends get to call him Bucky.” Sam told her, tucking his hands in his pocket, “It’s a very exclusive group though. Consists of just Steve.”

Y/N looked up at Sam, raising an eyebrow, “Is that a bit of… can I call it annoyed jealousy?” She asks with a teasing smile, nudging him with her shoulder slightly, “What, you jealous you’re not Cap’s bestie or annoyed that James won’t let you be his?”

Sam looked down at her shaking his head, “Can you not do the whole reading thing right now?” He asked with a small chuckle escaping his lips.

“Sorry, it’s just radiating off of you.” Y/N said with a small laugh before looking back out the glass door to the man referred to as James sat alone, “I’m going to go talk to him.”

Sam raised his eyebrows at her, “Good luck with that, Y/N. He’s a man of little to no words. Or emotions. He also doesn’t blink very much.”

Y/N was already headed towards the door with a small smile on her lips, turning her head over her shoulder to look at Sam, “That’s alright. I love staring contests.” She told him before walking out the glass door, shutting it behind her. Y/N walked over to the small metal table Bucky was sitting at, plopping herself on the chair across from him silently. She allowed her eyes to study him. He had longer hair, almost brushing his shoulders. There was stubble covering his cheeks and chin and he constantly looked like he was deep in thought, so much so in fact that little crease between his furrowed eyebrows could be permanent. She didn’t say anything, just sat silently in the chair as she stared into his eyes.

Bucky watched the woman. He had heard they were getting a new team member but didn’t bother to get to know much about her. It was somebody Steve had found and thought could be useful to the team but he didn’t know much more than that. He looked her over as she sat, she was wearing a long sleeved black shirt with blue jeans and combat boots. He was curious about the red leather gloves she wore though, he’d never really seen anybody else besides him wearing gloves constantly. He stared into her eyes, watching her closely. What was she doing? Why did she come to sit by him when there were so many other places to be? Bucky had came out here to be alone as he always did. He liked to be alone, in his own personal bubble lost in his thoughts. There was something about sitting outside alone and night where he felt peace. Maybe being under the stairs with the breeze on his face reminded him of his time in Wakanda, he didn’t know what it was but it was his favorite moment of the day. And now there was this new team member just staring at him. When her eyebrow twitched upwards slightly as if to challenge him, he narrowed his blue eyes at her and placed the beer bottle on the table never breaking eye contact. Bucky places his gloved hands on the table intertwined and leans slightly forward, staring, almost glaring, into her eyes. But the more he just stared the more he felt… what was that? Comfort? His irritation was fading away as he stared into those eyes, almost feeling lost and mesmerized in them at this point. Once he couldn’t take the staring anymore he sighs and leans back in his chair, looking away from her and out into the distance again, “What are you doing?”

Steve had found Y/N after she accidentally helped on a mission. She had a special ability that he thought could be very useful not only on missions but just in general so he asked her to join the team or at least give it a try. Y/N had agreed and now here she was, across from the dark haired, constantly in pain looking man having a staring contest. She knew exactly what she was doing. Her ability consisted of being able to read emotions and feelings of those around her and also manipulate them if she touched them, hence why she wore the gloves. She never wanted to touch someone and manipulate their feelings without their consent because she believed everybody was entitled to how they feel and there were reasons people felt the way they do. But that all broke off when Steve offered her the job. She would be helpful on missions, being able to get enemies to cooperate with the good guys instead of being all nasty and evil. Y/N could feel the pain, the anger, the lostness but she could see that plain as day in his eyes. When he broke the staring off and asked the question, she leaned back in the chair, “Did you know there’s multiple studies that show that staring into someone’s eyes can show their true intentions to you and show if you can trust them? They also say eyes are the window to the soul, able to process other’s emotions and what they’re feeling deep inside.”

Bucky’s lips curved slightly downwards at her words. She had stared at him to get information about him, was that it? He took a sip of his beer and looked back over to her, “You could’ve just asked instead of treating me like a study. I’ve had enough of that for one lifetime.” He spat out at her but almost immediately felt bad. She wasn’t wrong, he stared into her eyes and saw nothing but openness. Even now she was being open with him, truthful. God dammit, all it took was a damn staring contest for him to have a spark of trust for her, “Who are you anyway?”

“I’m Y/N.” She told him, a small smile curving to her lips, “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.” She said as she stared into his eyes, letting him know she was truly sorry if she offended him, “Sam said you like to stare and I’m pretty kick-ass at staring contests. Couldn’t help myself.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes slightly again at her as she apologized to him, then looks away again as he took another sip of his beer, letting out a slight sigh, “So you’re the one Steve brought back. Why would he do that?” He said almost coldly thought he didn’t mean for it to come across that way.

Y/N shrugs, “He thought I could be helpful here and on certain missions given my abilities.” She told him, watching him even though he wasn’t looking at her.

“And what are your abilities?” Bucky asked, looking over towards her curiously before looking down to her gloved hands, “Are you missing an arm too? Did he think we could bond about it?”

Y/N almost chuckled at his words then shook her head at him with a small smile, “No, I have both arms in tact. Which now would be a good time to tell you I’m sorry about yours, must’ve been a big loss that I’m sure you’re still dealing with everyday.” She watched as Bucky looked at her almost shocked for a slight second at her words. She figured nobody must’ve told him they were sorry for what happened to his arm, or acknowledge the loss he still felt of his left arm even though it had been replaced with a vibranium arm, “I like to call myself a reader. I can sense the emotions and feelings of those around me and if I touch you, I can manipulate those feelings. For example, I can make someone feel more cooperative with a single touch. I can provide happiness. Love. There is the darker side to it though. I can also make people feel pain, feel like their drowning, feel like they’re on fire or in the deepest pit of despair.” She said, looking down at her gloved hands, “Sometimes when I touch people, I can’t help but try and make them feel better. Touching people lets me feel their emotions more personally than just sensing them. It’s an automatic response to try and help fix it but I believe that everybody has a reason for feeling how they do and they can choose need to sort through their own emotions on their own.”

Bucky swallowed hard at her words. Only one question came into his mind of her and he was halfway worried to ask it. As if she knew he was dancing around the question, she smiled over to him encouragingly and the question just sort of slipped out, “Can you make someone feel relief? Feel…. less guilty?”

Y/N bit her lip at his question, watching him for a moment before pulling off one of her red gloves and setting her hand in the middle of the table outstretched towards him, palm face up to give him the choice to touch her.

Bucky looked down at her hand, hesitating whether he should touch her or not but curiosity got the best of him. He wanted to feel some sort of relief. Sure, he had made all his amends in the notebook but that didn’t mean he felt any sort of relief, any sort of happiness or hope. He slowly took the glove off of his right flesh hand, reaching out and hovering his hand over her’s for a moment before looking into her eyes and resting his fingertips into her palm. Immediately at the touch of her skin, a slow sense of relief filled his body and he closed his eyes at the feeling. He tilted his head back slightly and his lips parted the smallest bit at the feeling he had longed to feel. It was relief and hope with no guilt anywhere in his body or mind. He wanted to stay like this forever, keep this feeling inside him even if it wasn’t truly real. He didn’t notice his hand had moved to hold her’s, gripping tightly not wanting to let go. After a few minutes, he opened his eyes to look down at their hands and quickly pulled away, “I’m sorry.. for lingering… I shouldn’t have…”

Y/N shook her head at him, pulling her hand back and putting the glove back on, “Don’t worry about it, I’m happy to help anytime you need it. I’ll help you until you don’t need me to feel relief, hope. Although, if you do come to me to for help, you do have to teach me some self defense. I pretty much know nothing and Steve says you know everything about it.”

Bucky’s lips twitched into a small smile and he nodded slowly, “Alright. You have a deal.”

Bucky stood outside the landing pad, his arms crossed as he watched the quinjet touch down. There had been a new organization that had made themselves known called the Peace Keepers. They had a mission to capture all known people with any type of superhuman abilities or those they deemed posed a threat to the rest of the ‘normal’ population. They were ruthless, kidnapping any type of enhanced human and either making an example out of them or the person was never seen again. They didn’t have very many leads so when Steve got word that a local police department in Seattle had captured one of the Peace Keepers, he immediately took Y/N and Sam with him to try and confront him. Bucky always worried when Y/N went on missions even though he had trained her well in offense and defense, she was still a human and could get hurt easily. As the quinjet bay doors opened, Bucky’s arms uncrossed at the sight. Sam and Steve were walking out shaking their heads at each other with grim looks on their faces. Bucky immediately started walking towards them at a brisk pace, his eyes scanning for any sign of Y/N. When he didn’t see her, he looked to Steve, “Where is she? What happened?” But the look in Steve’s eyes was all he needed to confirm the fear he had.

Steve sighed and shook his head slightly, a defeated look written all over his face, “It was a set up, Buck. I’m sorry, the Peace Keepers took her.”

It’s been a few months since Bucky met Y/N. He hated to admit it but he liked being around her. She could sense his emotions and knew when he just needed to sit in silence or when he needed to talk and it was comforting to know someone had some sort of understanding of what he was going through. She helped him whenever he needed whether it be someone to talk to, to sit with, or even using her ability to help him when he was feeling the worst. Y/N seemed so pure to him, like a ray of sunshine in the dark world that surrounded him. He always felt at his best when she was in his presence even if she wasn’t using her ability. He loved training with her, even if he was a little tough on her at times she never held it against him. She was a quick learner and even asked him to teach her some knife tricks after he showed her his extensive knife collection.

Tonight was a bad night for Bucky though. Every time he closed his eyes the nightmares of the Winter Soldier took over his mind. He was waking up what seemed like every ten minutes dripping in sweat and he could feel himself slowly breaking due to the lack of sleep and anxiety that riddled his body. He pulled himself out of his bed, pulling on some grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt before walking out of his room. It was early in the morning hours and he thought nobody would be up, but as if Y/N knew he needed some help, she was sitting outside where they usually sat every night waiting for him with a twelve pack of beer sitting on the table. Bucky couldn’t help but smile a little at the sight before taking a seat in the chair next to her, grabbing a beer and opening it before taking a long swig, “You waiting for me?” He asks her after putting the bottle back on the table. He had never seen so much skin exposed on her. She was wearing a tank top, no gloves, and long black pajama pants with red roses on them. He had never seen her arms before and just now he noticed she had small tattoos littering both arms, but they weren’t so much a sleeve as just randomly placed across her skin like she just closed her eyes and picked a spot.

Y/N shrugs over to him, taking a sip of her already open beer, “I figured I’d meet you out here eventually. I’m three beers in, Barnes. You got some catching up to do.”

“Bucky.” He said to her and when she looked at him sort of confused he quickly added, “Call me Bucky, that’s what I meant.”

Y/N smiles and nods, “Alright, Bucky. Does this mean I’m part of the super exclusive Bucky Barnes friend group?”

“That sounds like something Sam told you.” Bucky responds with a small smile, bringing the bottle up to his lips again for a drink.

“Oh yeah, he very much told me that.” She responded with a soft laugh, “But I am extremely honored to be accepted into the group.”

Bucky chuckles over to her, finishing the rest of his beer and setting the empty bottle on the table before grabbing another one, “One down, two to go.” He told her, cracking open the next bottle. His eyes lingered over her tattoos, wondering what they all meant to her, “I didn’t know you had tattoos.”

Y/N shrugs slightly, looking down at her own arms at the scattered ink, “Oh yeah, I mostly keep them covered up so nobody accidentally brushes my skin and gets feelings they aren’t ready to feel.”

Bucky nods, “What do they mean to you?” He asks curiously, wanting to know more about her.

Y/N looks down and points at three butterflies that were placed above her wrist, looking like they were flying up her arms, “This one reminds me that I’m free.” She moves to point to another one that was a purple iris with a date in the stem, “This is for my mom. She passed away from cancer a few years ago. She was the only one that loved me unconditionally.” She moved to one that was just the number thirteen in a fancy font, “This is my lucky number.” She looked at her other arm and pointed to a small yellow sunflower, “My favorite flower. My mom used to send me to pick wild sunflowers when my dad was home. He wasn’t a very good man.” Her eyes flickered to Bucky who was nodding each time she explained, entranced with her tattooed skin so she continued, pointing to one that looked like a human heart, “This one is to remember to wear my heart on my sleeve because I’m cheesy like that. I have a lot more but they’re all covered up right now.”

Bucky nodded, slightly smiling at the last one before noticing one she hadn’t pointed out yet. It was in the crook of her elbow where someone would put an IV but it had the red cursive words ‘fuck you’ around a large circular scar, “And that one?” He asks, pointing towards it and raising an eyebrow. All her other tattoos were cute but this one had a curse word plastered right on her skin.

Y/N looked down at it, biting her lip gently before looking up towards him and taking a sip of her beer before she spoke, “That one is for my dad. Like I said, he wasn’t a good man. He put out a cigar there, hence the scar and I decided to tattoo fuck you on it.” She said, and even though the story of her childhood wasn’t one she liked to share, she would always be honest with Bucky. Her father was a very abusive man and eventually the abuse went from only on her mother to her until she and her mom ran away to get away from him.

Bucky looked at her sadly for a moment, wondering what her childhood was like. Her father sounded evil from the bits she shared, but yet here she was all sunshine and smiles through her pain. He felt a small bit of jealousy for the way she was able to handle trauma, but mostly just sadness for her and a need to protect her from those things, “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Y/N shrugs at him, “It’s alright. It’s a part of me that made me who I am even if it is a dark and twisted part. I like who I am now, and even if I don’t like how I got here, the best I can do is keep moving forward.” She watched him for a moment before tilting her head, “So what has you coming out here at this hour looking for me?”

Bucky swallowed dryly, bringing his beer bottle up to his lips and taking a long drink before answering her, “Nightmares have been bad tonight.” He said quietly, almost as if ashamed to seem weak as he looked down at his ungloved hands, “Every time I get to sleep I just see him. The things he did. I didn’t want to bother you so I was coming out here to find some peace.” He looked over to her, “But here you are, waiting for me.”

Y/N smiled gently over to him, reaching her hand across the table for him to touch if he’d like. As she watched him reach out his flesh hand to touch her’s, she pulled back a little, “Answer me this first, Bucky.” She said, “How are you feeling right now?”

Bucky’s brow furrowed at her words, blinking a little as he thought about it. How did he feel? Certainly better than when he first trudged out here. Talking to Y/N calmed him, just being in her presence made the anxiety and panic he felt in his body melt away. He slowly looked at her, “I feel… Better.”

“No, Bucky.” Y/N told him, shaking her head gently, “I know exactly what you feel, remember? You feel relieved. You feel hopeful. All on your own without needing my touch.” She said with a smile over towards him, watching his lips curve into a small smile at her words, “My ability may be a quick cheat to getting you what you need to feel, but what is even better is when you can feel that all by yourself without my touch.”

“I like your touch though.” Bucky blurted out before flinching at his own words.God he must’ve sounded like an idiot, “I… uhm…” He said, scanning his brain for anyway to cover that up.

Y/N chuckles and smiles at him, reaching over and taking his hand in her’s, “That’s alright. I like your touch too.” She said, “We’ve done this enough times I’ve figured out how to keep myself from messing with your emotions when I touch you. So whatever you’re feeling right now, that’s all you buddy. You’re stronger than you know.”

Bucky smiled over at her, immediately feeling something at her touch. He didn’t know what it was but he believed her when she said he wasn’t toying with his emotions at her touch. He felt warm but his stomach was also twisting. No, not twisting. He didn’t know what the feeling in his stomach was, but all he knew was that he liked it. Could this be happiness he was feeling? Happiness that wasn’t given to him by her ability, but by the way she spoke to him and touched him.

Bucky immediately lost his temper, punching his vibranium arm into a wall that easily collapsed around it and formed a large hole. Y/N had been taken. His safe place had been taken from him. He should’ve gone with them on the mission, he had tried but Steve told him they had it handled. He felt lost in guilt and anger, wondering if Y/N was one of the bodies they would find days later or if she was going to be one of the enhanced humans that were taken only to never be seen again.

“We’ll get her back,” Sam said, placing a comforting hand on Bucky’s shoulder which was quickly shrugged away, “I got redwing trying to track down the trucks they escaped in.”

Bucky turned to look at Sam, an angry vein popping out of his neck, “Oh, we are just going to rely on your stupid little mechanical bird then? Hope that it can figure shit out?”

“Calm down, Buck.” Steve said, folding his arms across his chest and stepping to stand between the two, “It’s not his fault, he’s trying to help.”

“No, you’re right Steve.” Bucky said, turning his angry glare to his best friend, “It’s yours. If you would’ve just let me come maybe none of this would’ve happened. I wouldn’t have let them take her. I would’ve protected her.”

Steve raised an eyebrow at Bucky at his choice of words, looking at Sam and giving him a nod as if to tell him that they needed a minute. Once Sam was out of earshot, he turned his attention back to Bucky, “We didn’t let her get taken. We were ambushed. It was a set up, Buck.” He said sternly, “What’s gotten into you?” His gaze softened a little bit at the look in Bucky’s eyes, “She has, hasn’t she?”

Bucky looked around, anywhere but meeting Steve’s gaze because he was right. He had developed feelings for Y/N and now that she was out of his grasp, taken away from him he was realizing everything he felt for her. It wasn’t just friendship. The night he talked to her when she showed him her tattoos and held his hand that feeling in his stomach was butterflies, a crush forming and he didn’t get the chance to tell her. Now he didn’t know if he would see her again, “She has, Steve…” Bucky finally softly said, “She’s like an angel that just came into my life and showed me how to process through things. Showed me what it’s like to have hope, happiness. Relief.” His flesh hand came up to run through his long hair, “And now she’s gone, taken. And we don’t know where or what is happening to her and I’ve never told her how important she is to me.”

Steve put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, trying not to smile at the fact Bucky had found someone because the circumstances wouldn’t allow it. But he was genuinely happy that Bucky was doing better and vowed to himself that he would do everything to get Y/N back for Bucky, “Y/N can read your emotions as soon as she enters the same room as you. She knows, Bucky.” He told him, squeezing his shoulder gently, “And we will get her back so you can tell her. I promise.”

“I know why you’re always eating those plums.” Y/N said, looking at Bucky who had pulled a plum out to snack on after training with her.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at her, throwing the plum up in the air before catching it, a small grin on his lips, “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

Y/N smiles, reaching out and taking the plum from him in her gloved hand and looking at it, “Plums have antioxidants to protect the brain from cell degeneration and also help with memory. I would actually be surprised if you didn’t eat them constantly.” She told him, holding the plum back to him to take.

Bucky shook his head and couldn’t help but chuckle a little at her correct answer. When he was regaining his memory, he did extensive study on foods that helped your brain and memory and plums happened to be his favorite, “You’re smart, Y/N.”

“I know.” Y/N said with a smile.

Y/N opened her eyes slowly, groaning to herself. The last thing she remembered is that she was trying to get a read on the Peace Keeper in custody before the station they were in was ambushed by many more minions of the Peace Keepers. As Sam and Steve fought them off, a man came face to face with her. They fought for a little bit before the man pressed a syringe into her neck, causing the world to fade to darkness around her. Now, as she looked around the room she was in, she noticed she was strapped to a chair with duct tape in a small cement room almost like a cell. Her attention was caught when a man entered through the steel door in front of her, tilting her head slightly. She could feel his emotions and all he exuded was dominance and power.

“Welcome, Y/N.” He said towards her, his long blonde hair was pulled back into a bun, “I’m so excited you’re here. I have such great plans for you.”

“What are you thinking about, Bucky?” Y/N asks, laying on the grass next to him as they looked up at the stars. She didn’t wear her gloves around him anymore or hide her skin which made her feel more comfortable, more herself.

Bucky’s arms were stretched behind his head, his eyes glued to the dark sky that was littered with twinkling stars, “My amends. After I came back from the blip, Steve and Sam helped me get pardoned by the government except I had to do these therapy sessions. I had a list of everybody that either used the Winter Soldier or those the Winter Soldier wronged, wanting to make amends.”

Y/N turned onto her side to look at him, studying his face, “Did you finish your list?”

Bucky tilted his head over to look at her, “I did. Feels like I didn’t though.” He told her honestly. He was always honest with Y/N. She was the only other person that was easy to talk to besides Steve.

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him as if trying to figure something out just by looking at him, “Maybe it’s because you didn’t put your own name on the list. The Winter Soldier wronged you too, Buck. Maybe it’s time to start making amends to yourself so you can truly finish your amends list. Tell yourself that you are James Bucky Barnes, not the Winter Soldier anymore, and that you would like to make amends. Maybe it’ll make you feel like it’s complete.”

Bucky stared at her in awe. How did Y/N do that? How did she saw all the right things at the right time to him like she knew what he needed to hear? He moved his right hand to reach over and grip onto her’s, intertwining their fingers with a smile before looking up at the stars, “I think you’re right.”

“Well I don’t want to brag, but I usually am.”

Redwing returned to Sam after two weeks and losing track of where the Peace Keepers and Y/N were taken which only irritated Bucky more. He wanted to go to Seattle immediately and look for her himself but just when he was arguing with Steve and Sam about it, all the monitors in the briefing room suddenly turned on and started flashing imagines of the Peace Keeper’s symbol before footage of Y/N appeared on the screen. There were people holding her and making her touch a wall over and over again, holding her up even though she looked like she was asleep and collapsing. A voice started speaking on the screens though it seemed like it had been disguised because it was so deep, “As you can see and already know, we have taken one of your team. Y/N Y/L/N. We may not have the technology or methods used to create the obedience the Winter Soldier had, but we have our own methods.” The screen changed to show Y/N being tortured in different ways, breaking down her psyche by forcing her to do things and if she refused, she was either struck or was forced into freezing cold water. They were breaking her down and turning her submissive to their will. Bucky flinched at the images, he had trained her to fight and defend herself but not how to stay strong under torture, “Breaking down the mind, spirit and soul of a being is messy, but our methods are effective. Within one week of continuous strain on her mind due to no sleep and our training, Y/N has become submissive to simple commands. By week two, she has completely bent to our will and we unlocked her abilities to make it so she doesn’t have to touch people to manipulate them. With her, we will be able to bend anybody to our will.” The images changed from Y/N being tortured to her causing them to scream in pain that they felt like they were on fire and scratch at their skin until they were ripping their own skin off, “Let this be a warning to all enhanced beings. We will find you. We will bend you to our will. We will make you our soldiers. You are dangerous and the Peace Keepers will keep you in line.” Then the screens turned off.

Bucky shook his head, “I’ve read everything on brainwashing when I got my memories back. They’re using old soviet methods as well as methods L. Ron Hubbard used.”

“The scientology guy?” Sam asks confused as to what he had to do with anything.

Bucky nodded over to him, folding his arms tightly across his chest, “They believed that if you could make someone do something as simple like only touching a wall over and over again for days without sleep, food, or water, they could break your will and psyche. Make you do anything. That’s what they did to her, making her believe her only purpose is to do what they say or there will be punishment.” Steve ran his hand through his blonde hair slowly processing the information, “So she’s basically brainwashed. Not only can she manipulate emotions but she can make people feel pain instantly without touching them now, make them feel like they’re on fire until their bodies just give out.” He looked over to Sam and Bucky, “They’re going to find more enhanced humans to do this to, use her to make them comply with their orders.”

Bucky nodded, trying his best to get the images of Y/N being tortured out of his mind and remember her as she really is. He felt anger but going on a rampage wasn’t going to help at this point, “And where do we know of that they keep a bunch of enhanced beings?” “The Raft prison.��� Sam said with a sigh. He’d been locked up there before until Steve broke them out. It was an awful place but if Steve could break his team members out, the Peace Keepers and their followers sure as hell could with the help of Y/N/

“Tell me about yourself, Bucky. Not the things I know…” Y/N said as they walked along the grass, twirling a wildflower between her fingers, “Who you really were in the forties.”

Bucky had his hands tucked in his jean pockets as they walked, “Oh, darlin, you would’ve loved me.” He said looking over to her with a grin, “All the girls did. I was kind of a player.”

Y/N laughs a little, “A player, huh? I don’t think I could picture that. So you used to be cocky and confident then?”

“Hell yeah.” Bucky said to her, “I had ladies lining up just to dance with Sergeant James Barnes. Always had my arms over at least two women’s shoulders.”

Y/N rolls her eyes at him with a smile, “Alright, I get it. You were the ladies man of the 1940’s.” She said, glancing up at him, “So, ladies man, were you ever in love? A lucky lady waiting for the handsome Sergeant Barnes back home?”

Bucky squinted his eyes into the distance at the question before looking over at her with that crooked smile only she could bring out of him, “Nah, nobody waiting for me except my family. But I once spent all my money trying to win a girl named Dot a prize at Cooney Island. Does that count as love?” He asks before stopping in his spot and tilting his head down at her, “Wait, you think I’m handsome?”

“I don’t think spending all your money on a woman counts. I think that’s just called being a Sugar Daddy.” Y/N stopped her steps when he did, turning and looking at him with a smirk, “Oh like you didn’t already know how handsome you are Mr. Cocky and Confident Ladies Man.”

When Sam, Steve, and Bucky arrived at the Raft prison on the quinjet, they were already under attack by the Peace Keepers. The only thing they had on their side was the element of surprise. They had discussed a plan on the way. Sam and Steve would keep the Peace Keepers busy while Bucky tried to get to Y/N. They infiltrated quickly, taking down the vast amount of the Peace Keeper followers until the got to the detention level where the enhanced beings were kept. That was where Y/N and the leaders of the Peace Keepers were, unlocking cells one by one and using Y/N to cause them pain or make them complicit to be captured. Steve and Sam immediately went to fighting the leaders of the Peace Keepers, pushing them into cells and slamming them shut to seal them in.

One of the Peace Keeper leaders stood next to Y/N. He turned to her, “Take them out.” He ordered.

Y/N looked at him with what could be considered dead, emotionless eyes before looking to Sam and Steve, “Pain.” Was all she said and instantly, Sam and Steve fell to the floor screaming and writhing on the floor.

“Y/N!” Bucky said, kicking one of the Peace Keeper leaders into the cell before turning his full attention on her, “Stop, you don’t want to do this.”

Y/N tilted her head at him and his words, her facial features unchanging. She then looked towards the Peace Keeper leader as it to ask for permission and he nodded toward her. Y/N returns her eyes on Bucky, “Pain.” Bucky winced at the sudden pain that erupted through his whole body besides his left vibranium arm. He clenched his teeth tightly, trying to resist as every point of his body felt like it was on fire and he was being stabbed in every pore at the same time, “Y/N…” He growled out, taking slow steps towards her, “C’mon doll, it’s me, Bucky.” He groaned out, managing to get closer to her even though his body wanted to give out, join Sam and Steve who were still on the floor shaking. He managed to close the distance, using his vibranium arm to land a hard punch to the Peace Keeper leader next to Y/N, knocking him back into an open cell that slammed shut.

Y/N watched Bucky stand in front of her. His skin was covered with thick beads of sweat as he tried to resist the pain she was making him feel, “Paralyze.” She muttered out, watching his body fall to the floor.

Bucky laid on the floor, he couldn’t feel any part of his flesh body. But luckily, his vibranium arm didn’t seem to be affected by Y/N’s abilities. He reached out his vibranium arm, latching onto her ankle and pulling her down on top of him so her hands touched his skin. He needed to let her feel what he did, show her the emotions he felt hoping to ground her, “Y/N, listen to me.” He whispers out to her, feeling the paralysis start to fade when she made contact with his skin, “It’s me, Bucky. Mr. Cocky and Confident Ladies Man, remember?” Feeling his right flesh hand regain feeling, he reached a hand up to touch her cheek, “You are Y/N. Not a pawn for the Peace Keepers. You are everything good and you are as free as the butterflies on tattooed on your skin.”

Y/N shook her head at him, “No. I belong to the Peace Keepers.” She said to him softly. She was about to open her mouth again to cause him pain, but when her focus broke so did the hold she had on Steve and Sam. Sam quickly came flying in and kicked her off of Bucky, slamming her back against a wall hard enough to knock her out and fall to the floor.

Bucky was at her side immediately, glaring over at Sam, “I had it, birdbrain.” He spat out before his features softened as he brushed some hair from Y/N’s unconscious face.

“Yeah. You had all of that handled perfectly, Buck.” Sam said rolling his eyes, “She was about to twist you inside out. I saved you, man.”

Steve was busy informing the back up guards of the Raft prison on what had happened, helping them secure the Peace Keepers and the rest of the enhanced humans who weren’t in their cells.

Bucky lifts Y/N up from the cold floor gently, looking down at her, “I got you, doll. Don’t worry, I’ll take you home.”

“I like this place.” Y/N said, once again sitting with Bucky outside in the darkness of the night sharing a pack of beer as she stared up at the stars.

Bucky looked over at her curiously, wondering what she liked specifically about living at the facility. Their chairs were almost touching with how close they were sitting next to each other, “What do you like about it?”

Y/N turned her head to meet his gaze, “It just feels like home. Haven’t had that feeling in a long time.” A teasing smirk appeared on her lips suddenly towards him, “Plus I get to be a part of this really exclusive group, the Bucky Barnes friend group. Maybe you’ve heard of it? I keep suggesting we get matching jackets or something but nobody seems to agree.”

Bucky let out a laugh at her comment, “God, I’m never living that down. Thanks, Sam.” He said with a roll of his eyes and another swig of his beer, “And I wasn’t apposed to the matching jacket idea. Steve was. He said it would make Sam feel left out.”

Y/N laughed and shook her head, “Couldn’t have that.” She replies, “You may be able to fool everybody else, but I know he’s secretly your other other best friend. First best friend being Steve and the other being myself, then Sam.”

“It’s like being friends with a pigeon.” Bucky snorted, “Yeah, he isn’t all bad. Just sometimes his face does this thing that makes me mad. And he has that stupid RedWing robot he treats like a pet.”

“That thing with his face? That’s emotions, Bucky.” Y/N laughed again, “Emotions are normal. You and Steve are good at hiding your feelings, able to be stoic. But Sam wears all his feelings plain as day on his face. You can’t let that offend you, it’s just him being honest. But RedWing, yeah, I don’t understand why he treats it like a pet. That’s sort of weird.”

Bucky nodded to agree, drinking the rest of his beer he held in his left hand while his right hand subconsciously found Y/N’s intertwining their fingers and giving it a light squeeze.

Bucky looked down at Y/N who laid on the medical table. She seemed a little malnourished from being held captive for two weeks so Dr. Cho had an IV in her arm providing fluids and nutrition her body badly needed. Bucky was by her side constantly while she was under the light sedation Steve had suggested since they didn’t know if she would attack them or not. It had been days since Y/N had been brought back and Bucky was there at every moment he could be, holding onto her hand as they had done many times before. He was hoping, praying that Y/N was feeling all of the emotions he was just by his touch. He cared deeply for her, emotions he hadn’t felt in a long time since before World War II. He hoped she could feel his hope, the relief of her being here with him, the happiness just touching her made him feel… And the love he had been denying he felt for her. Bucky stood from his chair when he saw Y/N’s brow furrow as if she was about to wake up, squeezing her hand gently, “Y/N.” He breathed out to her, “Doll, you with me?”

Y/N opened her eyes lazily to look up at him, sensing his worry when she just stared at him. Slowly a smile came across her lips and she felt the relief instantly flood his body, “Bucky…” She managed to draw out though the sort of slurred from the sedation, “You love me.”

Bucky shook his head and chuckles down to her, “You felt that, huh?”

Y/N nodded slowly, her eyes slowly and lazily blinking, “I feel everything.” She murmurs out, squeezing his hand gently, “I feel honored…. Does this mean you’re gonna spend all your money trying to win me a prize?”

Bucky leans down and presses a soft kiss to her forehead, “Whatever you want, darlin. I’m pretty sure I can win those prizes first try now though.” He grinned down to her, “Rest, doll. I’ll get Dr. Cho to wean you off of the sedation.”

A Week Later

Y/N was pretty much back to normal. She had a few nightmares that kept lingering due to the torture she endured and the things she was forced to do. Bucky helped her through it, knowing himself what it felt like to forced to be a pawn and go through the haunting nightmares. He made an open invitation to his bedroom towards her, allowing her to come and snuggle up next to him so she didn’t feel alone. They hadn’t discussed what was said when Y/N came out of sedation, the whole Bucky loves her thing which made him worry and panic that she didn’t feel the same way.

Y/N and Bucky sat outside in their normal spot, sharing this time a bottle of whiskey. Their hand were interlocked and they were laughing about some story about how Steve used to have to wear newspapers in his shoes prior to being all super soldier. Then it got quiet and Bucky was staring over at Y/N, examine every feature on her face. Y/N looked over and met his gaze, “What you worrying about?”

Bucky smiles slightly, of course she felt his worry. He looked down at the whiskey glass in his hand before placing it on the table in front of them. He stood up, pulling her up with him while his other hand grabbed her glass and put it next to his on the table. Bucky kept his flesh hand interlocked with her’s, bringing his vibranium one up to gently stroke the skin on her cheek with his finger tips, “I love you.” He breathed out to her.

Y/N smiles and tilts her head at him, “I know.” She told him, squeezing his hand lightly and taking a step closer. She licks her lips, narrowing her eyes at him.

Bucky tilted his head at her, suddenly feeling overwhelming feelings of warmth flooded his body. It felt like electricity was running through his bones, enough to power cities. It was pure happiness like he'd never felt before. It was so powerful, it felt like magic, "What're you doing, sweetheart?"

Y/N's eyes flickered between his eyes and his lips, "I'm showing you how you make me feel, Bucky." She said softly to him, "Because I love you too." Bucky grinned down at her at the sound of her reciprocation of love, moving his vibranium hand to the back of her neck and pulling her face towards his, connecting their lips in a deep kiss. His tongue traced her bottom lip until her lips parted, allowing his tongue access to intertwine with hers. After a few moments, he pulled away and looked down at her with nothing but happy eyes, “You’re my girl.”

Y/N smiled at him brightly, slightly breathless from the kiss between them, “And you’re my home, Bucky Barnes.”

_____________________________________________________________

Taglist: @buckypops @stcrryslibrary @bibliophilewednesday

[folkloreguk]

an angel for a demon (3)

A/N: Here's the last part of this small series! You don't necessarily need to read all of them to understand this one, but it does probably make more sense if you do. As always, feedback is deeply appreciated! Have a good day x

genre: smut, optional bias (m) x reader (f), demon!bias, angel!reader, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), reader gives her first bj

words: ~ 6.7 k

PART1 (M)

PART2 (M)

“I’m going out to pick up some food and stuff, do you want to come along?” you heard him ask. You had your legs up against the wall, your back on the bed, and a magazine in your hands. The women on the pages had you gushing, on the verge of hypnotization. You swore if you looked at those infatuating pictures one minute longer, you’d be swallowed whole by them.

When you had worked your way through some science books and were still hungry for more to read, H/N had brought you some magazines, mostly about fashion but also gossip and lifestyle tips. Turns out letting a clueless angel read about what’s supposed to be good for women was not a smart idea. Up in the clouds, from where you used to watch earth’s women, they had all looked equal to you – beautiful, intelligent, and capable. Now, down in the reality of it all, things appeared much more complicated. Which angel could have known it took diets, workout routines, anti-aging creams and the perfect outfit for your body type to be viewed the same way you had always looked at women from above? And most importantly, how did any woman manage to uphold all these expectations the magazines named? It was all too much and seemingly impossible. Abruptly, you were pulled out of your train of thoughts.

“Y/N? Did you hear me?” he asked, peaking his head through the door. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry,” you said, putting down the magazine on your chest. “No, I’d like to stay here.”

“Alright,” he said, “Would you like me to bring you anything from the store?”

He walked over to you and sat on the bed. His hands softly brushed over your hair, down your cheek and neck, barely touching your collarbones. He was in his black, intimidating clothes, per usual, but his eyes held nothing but fondness for you.

“Actually, maybe there is something,” you said. “Look.”

You picked up the magazine and pointed at the page.

“Can you buy me a dress like this one? They say it would fit me best. And could you get some makeup for me? I don’t know much about it, but maybe you-“ you said. Usually, he was one to listen carefully to every of your words, as if you were the most interesting person he had ever met. This time, he interrupted you.

“Stop. Where is this coming from?” he asked. “I want you to forget all those things you’ve read in those magazines, okay?”

You were confused, thinking you were learning by reading those articles. Gently, he caressed your face. “You know I’ll buy you anything in the world, right? But only if that’s what youwant. Everything they tell you to do, everything they tell you to buy, it’s brainwashing. You will wear whatever dress you find pretty, and if you want to wear makeup, that’s fine. But you will only do those things if you want to do them, okay? There’s nothing you need to change about yourself.”

“But they say you need to start early to get a nice body, and to prevent aging,” you said. “They say men will admire me.”

“We’re immortal, my angel,” he said. “And even if we weren’t, what’s wrong with growing old? Wouldn’t you want the traces of your experiences to be visible on your skin? Those companies, they all just want your money and so they try to scare you into believing you’re not good enough. But truth is, you always are. All those times people tug on their skin in front of a mirror, or whenever they break a sweat trying to lose weight, or when they compare themselves to those who look different from them – they’re already good enough. They’re perfect. This worlds wants you to never be at peace with who you are. But you need to promise me you won’t succumb to those nonsensical tactics to make you hate yourself. And don’t you ever wait for a man to give you approval. That’s your job and your job only.”

You listened, wide-eyed and intrigued. No magazine could ever speak so honestly, and you believed every word he said. After all, you trusted him much more than some random author of an article that was trying to sell you the latest weight loss-magic-powder.

“Okay, I promise.” You sat up and leaned your head against his shoulder. “I’ve never even really thought about it, but I think I’m pretty.”

“Not thinking about it might just be the best way to go about it in this world,” he said, and placed a kiss on your forehead. The feeling of warmth lingered on your skin seconds after he had already pulled away.

“I change my mind, then,” you said, “Do you think you can get me a dress like this?”

You showed him a different picture this time. It showed a lot more skin than the one you had pointed out before. You only realized this when he was already smirking at your choice.

“I’ll see what I can find,” he said. “That’s an interesting option, angel.”

“Hey! I just like the color, alright?” you defended yourself, making him chuckle. Over the course of four weeks, you had come to know his insinuations and his little jokes better. But at the same time, you couldn’t deny the incredible sensation his eyes on you gave you. When he goggled at you because you had decided to wear his shirt for a day, or the way he watched you welcome him with open arms when he came home.

You now understood that certain words or actions, or even just an article of clothing – or lack thereof – could conjure an insatiable hunger in his eyes. At first, it was a little scary, having a demon stare you down as if he wanted to eat you up. But now that you knew what his hands felt like on your skin, and that his lips were made for much gentler actions than to hurt you, you wanted nothing more than to coax the starving demon into playing with you, any chance you got. And perhaps that dress in the catalogue would do just that, and not only bring you joy. It was a win-win, really.

“I’ll be back in the afternoon,” he said. “Don’t miss me too much.”

“You know I always do,” you said.

“I’ll give you all the missed attention when I get home, alright?” he said, bending down to your ear. “You can have whatever you want, then.”

To be honest, half of the time you didn’t know what you wanted him to do. But with every time his hands explored your body you learned more. There were so many things humans did to make each other feel good, you doubted you’d ever be able to try everything. His promise made you wish he was already back home when he had barely stepped out of the door. One last grin and nod and he left you alone.

What did angels do on a Saturday noon? Usually, you’d be patrolling your village, entertaining yourself by watching children play tag, admiring lovers walking hand in hand or discovering a family that had just adopted a small animal. Their human eyes shined when they felt happiness, and it was infectious to you. You wanted to send your blessing to all of them, make sure they never felt anything but delight, but you knew that wasn’t how business worked down there. Some things were even out of your control. Now, on earth, you were ready to take whichever hardships were to come if it meant you could have been with your demon lover.

You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. You had only gotten up an hour ago. Last night, you had been kept awake for long. He was untiring when he was between your legs. You had learned that he didn’t need nearly as much sleep as you did, and when he set his mind to making you come by his administrations, he didn’t waver to do so. But losing sleep in exchange for pleasure was okay with you. Time became meaningless, either way, when you had your face buried in a pillow, tears threatening to spill over from how good he made you feel. Sometimes he made you come while sitting in his lap, then you’d cling to him like a baby and muffle your whimpers by pressing your lips against the skin of his shoulder. He loved telling you ‘Look at me’ right when you were falling. It was hard to keep your eyes from rolling to the back of your head or not to collapse in his arms, but for him you would try your best. Often you found your thoughts lingering on the memory of his gaze when you came apart under his touch. It had something of fascination and protectiveness, and you’d never get enough of it.

Great, now you wanted him again. And he wasn’t here. How had you gotten this way? On occasion you wondered if one of the other angels had already spotted you and the sins you were committing. You wouldn’t call them sins now, or ever again. It wasn’t like you wanted to adapt to a demon lifestyle. But you felt at home for the first time, here on earth. It was the perfect grey zone between heaven and hell.

As an attempt to appease your needy mind, you picked up your magazine again. Just because you shouldn’t believe everything they said didn’t mean you shouldn’t have read it at all, right? You flipped through articles on fitness and the newest fashion, but after skimming the pages for only a few seconds, you were done with those tips. He wanted you because of who you were – an angel – and you doubted than any beauty routine could make him more obsessed with you than he already was. But then you read something most curious to your angel eyes. ‘How to make him feel best – tips from a porn star’ the title said. Whatever in the heaven a porn star was, they seemed to be some sort of expert on pleasuring men, and you, always eager to learn something new, were intrigued from the very first word.

But soon you had to admit, you weren’t at all sure what they were referring to with those words and actions. When you and your demon boyfriend had sex, he usually did most of the work, while you took whatever teasing or pleasure he inflicted on you. He had said he liked it this way, but now you weren’t so sure. Or was this ‘10 things to do become a blowjob-pro’ – list just another attempt of society to brainwash women? You weren’t one to initiate talk about sexual stuff, but maybe you’d try to question him on the meaning of what you had read.

You flipped another page and finally you had arrived at a page you could work with. It was a bunch of comfort food recipes. Right away you fell in love with the picture of the freshly baked cinnamon rolls in the top right corner. H/N had promised you to teach you how to cook, but so far you hadn’t made much progress. The difficulty level read beginner, and five minutes later you stood in the kitchen. With some music in the background your enthusiasm only sparked more. Baking was new and came with slight overwhelmingness and the stress of making sure you weren’t forgetting to add any ingredient. But the Christmassy scent of cinnamon and the feeling of making something from scratch made you happy, and with rapt attention you finished your first completed recipe ever.

You wiped some flour off your forehead. Hopefully H/N would like the cinnamon rolls too, because as tasty you found your creation, there was no way you were able to devour them all by yourself. As if on cue, you suddenly heard the key slide into the lock of the front door. Probably prompted by the heavenly scent, he called your name.

“Here,” you answered, mouth full of a bite of cinnamon roll. When he walked in, he already had his famous smirk on his face. It was your favorite. You knew it was reserved only for you.

“What did you make?” he asked. But he had his answer when he saw the baked goods in front of you. He set down the bags and put his arms on your waist from behind. With a hum, you lifted the cinnamon roll to his lips, and he took a bite. He almost moaned at the taste and you grinned.

“Do you like them?” you asked, already knowing the answer but still awaiting more praise. You squealed a little at how quickly he spun you around. His nose touched yours and your heartbeat raced.

“It’s like they came with you straight from heaven,” he said. “Hmm…I missed my angel.”

His lips when he kissed you tasted like sugar and spice and you melted straight into his touch. You only noticed he had run his finger over the gooey leftover icing when it was already too late. He was a demon after all. And if demons were good at one thing, it was causing mischief.

“Hey,” you protested at his hands on your neck. Then your reaction quickly altered as his finger slid lower, down to your collar bones and to where your low-cut shirt started. “Great, now I’m all sticky.”

You didn’t understand at first that messing with you wasn’t his full intention. But he tilted his head to the side and ran his hot tongue over the icing on your skin, and you gasped suddenly. This wasn’t just a joke. He wanted you. He made a humming noise, as if the sweetness combined with your own taste were only complimenting each other. When he pulled down the neckline of your shirt a little, so he could have every last drop of the sugary substance on your skin, you couldn’t help but whimper. You wanted so desperately for him to do it again, that you thought about sticking your own fingers into the bowl of icing and smearing it on your chest. His eyes were playful when he looked up at your reaction.

“Oh no. If you’re all sticky I guess you’ll need a shower, will you?” he said, “What a coincidence. I was thinking of taking one, just now.”

You had never taken a shower with him, or anyone, for that matter. But you had a feeling that the both of you wouldn’t be keeping to yourself, standing naked in front of each other. You didn’t mind. And you guessed your approval was written on your face, because he pulled you in and kissed you hard. Again, you remembered the article you had read. Was now a good time to ask him about it?

While you were contemplating, his tongue slid over your bottom lip and met yours. You had been too shy to ask before, but now you were speechless. Gently, he grabbed your hand and led you out of the kitchen and into the hallway. You were a mess of lips and tongues and hands and feet stumbling over each other. Every few meters you stopped to push yourself close against him. It was like a game of who could go without kissing each other for longer. And you were both lousy at it.

He loved pushing you up against the wall, trapping you between his arms on each side of your head. This way, he could brush up against your shaking body and you had nowhere left to go. Needless to say, you had no intentions of getting away, no matter what. He knocked the breath out of your lungs, and you kissed him back like you could breathe him in instead. As if he had become your new source of oxygen, or whatever it was you really needed to survive. It these moments, air seemed like a subsidiary matter. So long as you had his hot tongue licking down your neck and his busy hands on your ass under your dress, nothing else truly mattered.

Your kisses were open-mouthed and far more confident than they had been only weeks ago. You now knew how much he liked when you grabbed his hair tightly, or when you whispered his name against his devouring lips, as if it was the only word you had ever been taught. Like it was the only word you ever wanted to know. Before you had even made it to the bathroom, half of your clothes were scattered somewhere along the way.

“I can’t believe I just had you yesterday and here I am already missing you this much again,” he mumbled against your earlobe, teeth playing with your soft skin. “You really are otherworldly. There’s no other explanation.”

His words made you feel proud. The pleasure was one thing you had come to love quickly, but then you noticed the power you could have over him, by merely existing. It was almost unbelievable, but there he was, hard and needing you, day by day. Again, your mind wandered off to the magazine article.

“Can I ask you something?” Your voice must had been different from your usual timid tone when you were in the middle of something unholy.

“Anything, angel,” he said. He let his lips linger on your cheek, half an inch from your mouth, and your stomach twisted in how badly you wanted him to sip on your lips like he was starving.

“Do you like always doing everything when we- ,“ you said. He gave you a puzzled expression, so you tried to explain yourself better. “I mean, if you ever want me to do more, you can ask me to. I don’t know everything yet, but I can learn.”

You weren’t even sure if you understood what the heaven you had just stammered. His look reminded you of the one he had when you asked him to buy him the dress and the makeup that morning.

“I love what we have, little angel,” he said, “What’s making you think you need to do anything differently?”

How were you supposed to explain what you had read when you hadn’t even properly grasped it yourself? You opted for taking his hand and walking him to the bedroom. There the magazine still lay, like an ancient cursed book you weren’t sure you wanted to know front to back. You picked it up and quickly handed him the article. Feeling your cheeks heat up, you opted to take a seat on the edge of the bed.

His lips curled into a devilish grin upon eyeing the page, and you thought the ground might swallow you whole. Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything at all and spared yourself the embarrassment. But at the same time, you were eager to know.

“I thought I told you, magazines are just trying to make you doubt yourself,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“I know, but if there’s anything I can do to make you feel as good as you make me feel, I want to do it,” you confessed. He bent down, cupping your face.

“No one’s ever felt as good to me as you have, angel,” he said, “You’re heaven to me. Do you understand that?”

With your mouth squished together slightly, you nodded your head that was in his hands.

“By the devil, you’re so adorable,” he said. “If you really want to know, though, I’ll show you.”

Even more eagerly, you nodded again. He chuckled. You couldn’t handle how handsome he was – all messy hair, bare chest and black eyes that made you dream of the most unholy things possible.

“You remember how I kiss you…down there?” he asked. You hummed, cheeks on fire. “And how I’ve asked you to put your hands on my cock before?”

You did. But it had been brief, only a few pumps and small touches, until he had become too needy. You had been whining so deliciously for him to fuck you and so he had to have you on the spot.

“In the way you touched me then…you could use your mouth on me. Make me come with your perfect lips and sweet hands,” he said. “If that’s what you want, too.”

“I do!” you said with enthusiasm that only an angel at the feasibility of making someone’s day could bring on. “Let’s postpone that shower.”

The pride in his eyes lasted for approximately two seconds before the raw hunger replaced it. He climbed onto the bed and pat his thighs. On command, you settled on his lap. The simple feeling of his bulge under your center, even if interrupted by some fabric, made your head dizzy and your stomach drop. You kneaded your hands, not sure where to touch him first. But just as he always did to you, you had the impulse to start by his head and go lower from there. Although you were on top of him, he looked amused at your shy eyes.

“Can I kiss your neck, like you always kiss mine?” you asked.

“Be my guest,” he said, grinning like he had just won the lottery. Your lips met his skin and you used your tongue the way you had felt him do it. His scent was intoxicating. It made the empty bedsheets you breathed in sometimes, when he left in the middle of the night for his demon antics, seem like nothing. You used your hands to stabilize yourself as you moved lower. The hiss he let out when you felt up on his abs and waistline almost scared you. Then you realized it was a good sign. Only for the blink of an eye you dared to graze your teeth on his skin. His reaction was immediate.

“Shit,” he cussed, “That’s my angel.”

So, he liked that. You couldn’t wait to tease him by biting him in the future. Provoking a demon would have sounded like something close to a death wish to you, had you thought about it months ago. Now, with a demon as tame as they come beneath you, the thought only excited you. As he liked to do, you touched him through his boxers while you continued your journey down his chest and stomach. The guttural moan he released made your head spin and you never wanted him to be quiet. Usually, you weren’t in a mind state to notice his groans, or your own noises were covering his.

“You’re doing so good, little angel,” he said, short of breath. Once again, your effect on him surprised you. Where was the intimidating, big bad demon you had been taunted by?

“I’m gonna fuck you so well for this,” he said, “Even the angels in heaven will hear you scream. Wouldn’t you like that?”

There he was. You pressed your legs together at the simple mention of him inside of you, but if he thought you were going to answer, he’d be waiting endlessly. You still had enough respect for your angels not to think of them in this moment. Nonetheless you hummed weakly. When you got to his hipbone, you hesitated. You drowned out your doubts by kissing him there, while you contemplated what to do next. Your hand was still wrapped around his clothed cock. It was rock hard, and a wet spot had formed on the fabric from how much he needed you. When your touch became softer, and you pulled your hands away slowly, he lifted his hips, not wanting you to stop. You supposed this was the part where you took off his boxers. At least he didn’t complain when you pulled them off his legs, so you assumed you were still on the right track.

Watching his face for signs of approval, your hand wrapped around his length. He almost seemed electrified at your touch. His jaw dropped slightly, and his hooded eyes somehow appeared even darker than usual.

“Just like that,” he said, “And now move your hand up and down.”

So you did. As you regarded your hand around his shaft, all you could think about was how it used to be. How did your hands, that were usually folded neatly in your lap while you looked down on earth, end up doing such ungodly things? And how come you didn’t even for a second feel guilty?

“Angel, you’re so good to me,” he moaned. Angel. That’s what he loved to emphasize. But was that what you were, still? Maybe you would simply stop putting yourself in a box. Perhaps you were just you, doing what you felt was right and would make you happy. And right now, having a demon clench his fists in your hair and saying your name in that tone, you couldn’t think of a lot of incidents that had made you happier. Was this the part where you should use your mouth? You weren’t sure, but your eyes jumped from his cock to his face and it caught his eyes.

“You can take me in your mouth if you want. If you ever feel like stopping, just do so,” he encouraged you, “But remember, no teeth there, okay?”

You grinned and nodded. You parted your lips and your tongue placed kitten licks on the underside of his member. When you reached the top, you took him between your lips, mirroring the motion of your hands around him. You were surprised at how comfortable you were, when ten minutes ago you were ready to personally descend to hell from embarrassment. There was something enticing about the power you possessed in that moment. You understood humans just a little better, once again. Knowing that the way he bucked his hips and his groans were caused by you and only you had you smiling inwardly. It was a way you had never caught yourself smile before. You felt brave, and like you could do anything, with a demon so at your pity.

It didn’t take long for you to figure out where he was most sensitive. Whenever you pressed your tongue against the tip of his cock, he let out a sigh. It was almost like relief, as if he had been waiting for you all his life. And now here you were, granting him all his wishes. You bobbed your head, but kept your attention on his sweet spot, his moans just too delightful not to evoke them on purpose.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he said. Often, you looked up at him. His lids fluttered from the pleasure, but he seemed to like it when you made eye contact. For a moment, you lifted your head, needing some air. Gently, he caressed your face, like you were made of precious porcelain.

“Which one of my dreams did you escape from, little angel?” he asked. You smiled sheepishly, lowering your head. Again, you wrapped your lips around his length. You wondered what he was thinking about. Was his mind as free from any worries as yours whenever he fucked you? Was he able to form any coherent thoughts or was his brain going into the same mental blackout you always experienced?

You continued the way you had, sucking the tip of his cock while your hand pumped him. From time to time, you took a breather and pulled away. Little did you know what you were doing to him. With the short intervals of your lips on him and the pauses in between, you unknowingly made everything more intense for him. It was a dangerous game of edging him you were playing, and you were outright unaware of it.

But why would he have complained? In that moment, you were his personal guardian angel, making sure all his needs were fulfilled. When he saw your lips, all red and puffy, he asked himself where you had been hiding all this time. You peeked up at him through your angel eyes and he felt his entire world become whole in front of him. He was completely and absolutely at your mercy, inebriated by your entire being. Never in his long time on earth had he seen someone so ravishingly beautiful, yet so unaware of their might. He swore to himself in that moment, he’d do anything to make you love him forever.

As divinely as you were treating him, he suddenly wanted you in a different way. And if you continued your sweet actions, he wasn’t sure if that would still be possible. He gently cupped your head, making you look up. You hummed in question.

“You’re doing so well,” he said, “Let me give back to you, won’t you? Does my angel want some attention, too?”

You would have been lying if you said you weren’t practically touch-starved at this moment. And having been taught to always be truthful, you nodded before you even knew it.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, “Why don’t you take off the rest of your clothes?”

When you got up to slip out of your dress, your legs were weak. You hadn’t even done anything, and yet your body felt heavy. All you wanted was to go back to him and have him so close, it felt like he could have been a part of you. As much as you had felt on top of the world minutes ago, his hungry eyes made you shrink inwardly. But it wasn’t out of fear. It was almost admiration, or rather anticipation. You knew he knew your body inside out, and you couldn’t wait for him to prove it to you.

“Come here, angel,” he said. You climbed back onto the bed. “Turn around for me, okay?”

You were on your knees, sitting up right, facing the headboard. His breath on your shoulder sent a shiver down your spine. Then his hands snaked around your body from behind you. A small whimper left your lips when he ran them down your chest, fingers drawing small shapes on your breasts. They continued their way down your stomach and to your parted thighs. The cold air was hitting your dripping core, and had you not had enough self-control, you would have moaned at the mere sensation of his fingertips on the inside of your thigh. But maybe that was just what he was waiting for. After all, he was still taking his time with you. But in this instance, you knew what you wanted, and more importantly when you wanted it.

“Please,” you said. You weren’t sure what to say but starting with a ‘please’ was never a mistake.

“Please what?” he asked. You couldn’t see his face, yet you knew his devilish grin that must’ve been plastered on his face. He never missed a chance to make you shy. “Is this what you want?”

He slid two of his fingers down your slit slowly. It would forever be a mystery to you, how such a simple touch could put you in such a mental state of disarray. You whined at how needy you were, fighting the urge to press your legs together. In a second, his fingers were coated in your juices. When he pressed them against your opening, but didn’t push any further, your head spun with frustration. An impulse yelled at you to grab his hand and show him how you wanted him, but you sensed there was a specific aim in his teasing. Above that, you weren’t close to that brave. Purposely lightly, he rubbed circles onto your clit. Your head fell back onto his shoulder and your breaths came out in little, desperate noises.

Before meeting him, you never knew this sort of inability to control your body. Having power over your motions was an obviousness to you. But as with so many things in life, you had been wrong. Or rather, you had not known better. Now, with his lips brushing over the side of your exposed neck, you were willing to let him do whatever he wanted to do to you. If there was a noise or reaction he wanted to coax out of you, he could do so. And if evoking your little melodic whimper was his aim, he was on the right path, fingers teasing your pussy and flicking over your clit. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you. In fact, he had a head so full of ideas of things you could do together, you doubted you’d ever start to get bored here.

“I want you…inside of me,” you said, surprising yourself. This was your desperate body taking control of your motor speech center, that little region in your brain that allowed you to let out what you wanted to say. Your cheeks were hot for only a moment, then you realized if it got you what you wanted so badly, speaking your mind was probably a fantastic idea. You should really do it more in the future, you thought.

“What my angel wants, my angel gets,” he said. Just for a few seconds, he moved his fingers much faster. You yelped at the sudden pleasure, your hand wrapping around his wrist. His other hand reached for your hand, softly taking it away as you became a whimpering puddle in his arms. You were ready to fall, give in to the pleasure and let go. It was what you so desperately wanted. But as quickly as it had begun, he removed his hands. His attention was gone, and you were left yearning for more.

“Lift your hips,” he said, softly touching your sides. A part of you wanted to cry out, hold him responsible for denying you your sweet release. But you knew it would be no use, and he would tell you to wait either way. You were still on your knees, but straightened up, arms hanging by your sides, waiting for his touch. He was right behind you, his upper body against yours. When you felt his cock run over your slick folds, you sighed at the awaited sensation. The stretch when he filled you up felt so perfect, so out of this world, you reached for his hand to hold on to.

“Why didn’t you ask me earlier if you wanted me so bad?” he asked. He squeezed your hand as his other pulled you flush against his back while he pushed himself further into you. He’d thrust against you for a while, only to pull out completely, and repeat the whole process. It was sending you into complete overdrive.

“Because I wanted to make you feel good,” you said. “Only you, for once.”

You moaned when he snapped his hips against your ass, picking up the pace. In an attempt to support your jittery legs, you grabbed the headboard in front of you. Your breathing came out in short huffs, uneven and a little shaky.

“You’re so sweet and selfless…my patient angel,” he said, his fingers coming in contact with your clit again. His touch was an allure to you, and you wished you could have stayed this way forever. No thoughts, just his body and his dark voice to sedate your mind. “I’ll give you anything you want. You know that, right?”

You hummed and nodded. “Yes. And I’ll do the same for you.” Your words were interrupted by your small whimpers. There had been a time you didn’t know what it felt like, when you didn’t even know there was a such thing of having someone inside of you. Now you couldn’t get enough of him. You were already so sensitive that every time he quickened his thrusts and moved his fingers on you slightly faster, he had you hanging right over the edge. And he could tell by the way you held your breath when you were close. He didn’t want you going there just yet.

“As much as I love your mouth around my dick, this is my favorite way of having you,” he said. He used both of his hands to dig into your sides, pulling your hips closer to him every time he dragged his cock through your walls. You agreed. Should any of your angels ever catch wind of this, they would ban you to earth – or worse, send you to hell. So be it, you thought. You’d be like your lover. One of the creatures of the darkness, thought to be the personification of sin. Even if they ripped your angel title from you, they could never steal away what you had now.

Yes, you were meddling with a demon, but also having the time of your life. It was vastly better than spending your days judging humans for being themselves and for humans living the true way they want to live, instead of abstaining from the simple pleasures of life. Their true colors shown, they weren’t harming anybody, but rather making the world a more acceptable and open-minded place. You aspired to be like them.

“This is my kind of heaven,” he said. It’s what he always called you. Heaven. He groaned when you clenched your walls around him, your inevitable high drawing closer.

“This is my new heaven…you are,” you replied. He chuckled darkly, probably relishing in your confession. The thought that he could make an angel reject the very place they should have belonged filled him with a sense of superiority.

“Look how well you’re taking me,” he said. His hand wrapped around your body, pulling you tighter. He slipped his hand between your legs again, and you almost felt like collapsing, had he not held on to you. On instinct, you closed your eyes and let the feeling crash over you.

“Let me see you come, little angel,” he spoke in your ear, just for you to hear. You would do anything for him. You quivered and buckled at the severity of the feeling, but he had you. Your moans were high and dragged out, as his digits pressed harder onto the sensitive nub on your center.

“Take just a little more for me, can you?” he asked. You obliged willingly, nodding your head while it was still full of nothingness. Even as he kept fucking you, it was pure bliss for another while. It made your legs shake a little, but you felt so safe there, in his embrace, the sensitivity was alright to handle. You could tell by how sloppy his thrusts were becoming that he was almost there, too. He was pressing you against his chest as if you were all he ever wanted. His moans sounded like home to you as he came. He said your name and bent forward, reaching for the headboard, but you both tumbled into the bedsheets together instead. You giggled at your shared clumsiness and you could feel his chest move from laughing as he was lying on top of your back.

“Fuck, that was amazing,” he said, “You’re amazing.”

You turned your head and his lips brushed along your temple, kissing you softly. He brushed a strand of hair out of your eyes so you could look at him. Seeing his beautiful face had you falling into an even deeper state of serenity.

“I want to cuddle,” he said, and it was probably the sweetest thing you had ever heard a demon say. As he rolled off you, you followed his movements and settled in his embrace. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on your skin, but neither of you cared enough to get up just yet.

“I love what you’ve done to me,” you said.

“What is it I have I done to you?” he asked, fingers drawing nonsensical patterns on the side of your bare hips.

“You changed me. But not in a bad way. You let me be who I want to be and showed me that that’s okay,” you said, “You made me understand. Some sins aren’t that sinful at all.”

[achillieus]

let you down. (sebastian stan x reader)

summary: it's a universal truth but it's worth repeating; feelings eat us raw. or just an actor and a girl falling in and out of love over the course of three months.

(this was inspired by sebastian's visit to greece for his movie, monday, and is based on that, so that means in the story we’re in 2018. also i have this posted on ao3 too but while i’m writing the last parts i thought of posting it here too)

pairing: sebastian stan x reader

warnings: alcohol, sexual references, implied depression, sebastian desperately needs to hug the reader, it's kinda slowburn because i love the yearning

(pinterest inspired board)

part: 1/6

(other parts)  (masterlist)

The day it happened, it wasn't a significant meeting at all, you barely even talked. In fact, when he opened the door of your neighbor’s flat that day with a beer in his right hand and his hair messy, he didn't have any effect on you. You always knew that living next to a director meant that sooner or later you’d bump into the pretty faces of well-known people. Sure, you didn’t expect them to be Hollywood actors like him, but to say you were starstruck by the man, would be the overstatement of the year.

The building you’ve lived in for the last three years has five floors; you live in the 4th, he lives in the 5th. He’s a quiet person, usually spending his evenings out of his apartment. You’ve talked sometimes, about the weather and the weird lady that lives in the 1st floor. You’ve never told him you find his directing style a little pretentious.

You’ve never been to his place until that annoyingly warm August evening, when you find a white button up shirt on your balcony. You can clearly see more clothing when you look up and you’re certain the item you’re holding belongs to him.

He’s not there though. Instead you find a different face behind the door. Lighter eyes and darker hair. The man in front of you is definitely younger than the director. You don’t bother to notice what he’s wearing.

“Can I help you?” His voice is deeper than you expected. Stronger, with a touch of European accent. The sound of English surprises you at first but soon you realize he must be another foreign coworker that came to visit your neighbor

“No, I just think Argyris dropped this and it ended up on my floor.”

He looks at you and then at the shirt, in your hands.

Then he says “Sure, I’ll take it.”

“Okay.”

Then it ends. He doesn’t even ask your name. You don’t have to ask his. You figure out, as soon as you walk down the stairs, that it’s Sebastian Stan that you just talked to.

And while being a big fan of marvel movies, you think nothing special of him at first. You just wonder how a mostly unknown director from Greece got an actor like Sebastian to come here so they can work together. It makes no sense to you, but you forget it when your phone starts ringing.

/

It would’ve been easier if you never saw him again, yet you do. You see him trying to understand what the old lady from the first floor is trying to tell him. You already know. The elevator is not working. The next day you see him walking up the stairs.

You exchange a quick hello, how are you and then off you both go.

The same night Argyris invites you to have a drink with them in the terrace. Part of you wants to just stay in bed and binge watch some Sherlock episodes. Part of you already thinks of what to wear.

There are around ten people there when you show up. They’re all sitting down in huge pillows drinking and talking loudly. You don’t know most of them.

You sit next to a blonde girl, across from Sebastian. This time you notice he’s wearing a plain black shirt and holds a glass of whiskey.

You don’t share any direct conversations but you learn that he’s afraid of growing old and that he thinks Taxi Driver is one fucking masterpiece, as he says.

When you mention that you’re probably the least artistic person in the room right now, you hear him laugh.

A curly haired woman starts dancing with him at some point. You decide he’s not a good dancer.

He leaves the same time you do, following you down the stairs.

“I thought you live here.” You say when he doesn’t stop at the floor you expect him to.

“Ah no, I stay at a hotel near the centre.”

He keeps talking about his suite until you reach your door.

You part in a blur, with a short goodbye.

He still doesn’t ask for your name.

It makes you feel genuinely offended.

/

Two days after, he is the farthest thing from your mind, until you find him sitting in front of your door, his eyes roaming the place with despair. And then he sees you.

“Ah finally you are here.” He starts casually. “Thank god.”

You just nod.

“Argyris told me to wait for him with you. We had a meeting but he got stuck in traffic.”

You give him a look.

“He said you’re always at home so you won’t mind.”

Ouch. Yeah sure, your social life wasn’t something to brag about but for some reason the way Sebastian said it, it sounded like an insult.

“Okay, come in.” You shrug, clearly not feeling comfortable and turn around to unlock the door.

You hear him call your name. You thought he didn’t know.

“Yes?”

He offers you an easy smile.  “Thank you.”

/

Sitting in your couch he’s eyeing the entire room, while you put some groceries in the fridge.

“Argyris says you’re a great girl.” He clears his throat. “But he thinks you’re too quiet for your own good.”

You look at him, your eyes flicking up and down his face.

“And from what I can tell, he’s right.”  You hear him laugh.

It felt weird to see him laugh while he was leaning back at your cozy pillow. He had entered your life so suddenly you didn’t even have time to react to it.

“I’m sorry but I barely know you.” Your words are sharp. He sits up.

“Okay then let’s get to know each other, what’s your favorite Disney princess?”

Defeated, you laugh. “Are you kidding me?”

“No, this is an important question.”

You wait for him to crack up but then you remember he’s an actor.

“I don’t know.” You think for a second. “Mulan?”

“Oh my god. Mulan is amazing.” You smile at him. “My favorite is Jasmine, she’s just so badass.”

You share your favorites that day, having almost nothing in common rather than your everlast love for animated movies and buttered popcorn.

When it’s time for him to leave, he stops and looks at you in the eye.

“You should talk more often.”

You stare at him with confusion. “I talk,” you raise your eyebrows. “When I have something to say.”

“Good.” he says, still looking.

/

Later in the evening, you’re eating some yoghurt when he comes knocking on your door.

He’s different. The white tank top he was wearing this morning is replaced with a dark shirt and his face looks tired. You assume they’ve been working since he went upstairs.

“Hiii”, he says dragging the i, “Am I interrupting anything?”

You desperately want to nod. You want to tell him that you were doing the most exciting thing in the world, before he came but you were never a good liar.

So you just tilt your head and take a step back.

That’s when he enters and is met with some loud rock music blaring from your laptop.

“You like AC/DC?” he asks, almost wide-eyed.

“Well, I can tell it’s them when I hear their stuff.”  For the first time that day, he seems to be in loss of words. “Why are you so surprised?”

He sits in the same spot in the couch as earlier and laughs.

“I just didn’t take you for the kind of girl who likes this music.” It’s your turn to laugh.

“Why?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Quiet girl who loves animated films and eats kids’ yoghurt” he looks at the carton in your kitchen table, “and also likes metal music? Doesn’t add up.”

“We’ve basically just met; you shouldn’t make assumptions about me.”

“Fair enough.” He sits back, fidgeting with his fingers.

You take some time just looking at him

There was a certain vibe about that man that made you wonder how it’d feel to cruise down a dessert highway in a convertible mustang with him. In the summer. With him wearing that white tank top.

The color of strawberries emerges at your cheeks just at the thought of it.

You wish he doesn’t notice.

You’re glad to find him looking the other way, before he speaks up.

“We’re going out tonight.” His voice is warm now. “Argyris says you should come along, even though I’m quite sure there’s no hardcore music where we’re going.” He laughs again.

I can’t. You almost say. But then anxiety slips away from you and out of sudden you want him to stop being so freaking arrogant, going around and acting like he knows exactly what kind of person you are.

He thinks you’ll say no. You can see it in his eyes.

“Sure, when should I be ready?” you say, surprising both of you.

He looks at you for some time and then trying to hide whatever he was thinking he says the first thing on his mind.

“How old are you?” He sounds pitiful. He knows. He wishes he could hit a wall; with his head.

“Twenty-one.” His eyes scan yours, unsure of what they’re looking for. “Why?”

“No reason.”

He inhales deep.

/

You try to blink. You’re at a party in a little bar you’ve never been before and a lot of people are wearing black. Alcohol. You can still taste it on the back of your tongue. You don’t remember how you end up pressed against a dark skinned man, but you can tell he smells of cigarettes and despair.

You sway your body to the beat, close your eyes. Breath in. And out. You think the music deafens you for a second but you open your lids and see Sebastian and he’s watching you, unashamed.

He’s not that far, though it feels like it with countless bodies in the way. The music melts. His gaze is almost angelic. Or devious. You can’t really tell.

He’s dancing with that curly haired woman again. You wonder how intimate their relationship is.

The red neon lights make his skin glisten. His muscles move divinely. It makes you think there’s an entire world inside him, his flesh barely keeping it hidden. Out of sudden you get the urge to walk towards him. You want to see him up close under this dim lighting. But you don’t move.

The man that’s groping your waist asks for your name. You tell him you need to flee. He doesn’t understand.

You sit outside with the sweet summer breeze touching your bare arms. The bass of the music in the background syncs with the beating of your heart. You can feel your ribs grow with every breath you take. Until you stop breathing because the door opens and his eyes suffocate you.

You can’t fathom the effect he has on you. He was a pretty face on screen some days ago. But right now he steals distance and stays near you.

You don’t look his way. He doesn’t say a word. Nicotine and smoke surround you as he exhales. His fingers hold the cigarette butt with care.

“Do you want some?”

You turn to look at him.

“I don’t smoke.” He laughs.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t want some.”

You want to know if his breath has the taste of sulfur. You want to pretend it’s the alcohol or the loud music that makes your head hurt.

“What’s the best part of being an actor?” The blue in his eyes glows.

There’s silence but he seems to be thinking about it.

“Do you ever feel things too much?” He says, his voice hoarse. “I mean, when you feel something so intensely it becomes a part of who you are.”

You nod. You understand.

“Acting allows you to let go of these feelings,” he starts. “You share the burden with the audience until it becomes light and you can hold it again.”

You look at him, shaking your head.

“I don’t think I could that,” you close your eyes. “I don’t think I could share what I feel so easily.”

He stands up. The wind hits you again.

“A lot people can’t. That’s why everyone is heartbroken,” he takes a breath, “Feelings eat us raw.”

You both go to bed alone that night. Tomorrow there is a hole next to you.

/

the morning after, search history

(02:45 PM) hangover recovery

(03:00 PM) best food after a hangover

(03:10 PM) sebastian stan

(03:30 PM) sebastian stan girlfriend

(06:00 PM) xanax side effects

/

You follow him on Instagram. He doesn’t follow you back. You remember he probably gets tons of followers every day and decide not to let it bother you. Instead you study for the exams of the following month.

The subject of your studies doesn’t interest you. Another poor decision you made under pressure. Sometimes you feel as if your life is borrowed from someone else. Sometimes you feel as if you haven’t found your home yet.

Feelings eat us raw.

His girlfriend looks beautiful in the pictures you find online. The media isn’t certain if they’re still together but you like to think so. It makes it easier to avoid him.

But the universe seems to be oblivious to your thoughts and you see him that same day. You’re taking the garbage out and he’s coming down from the top floor. You meet in the elevator.

“I’m glad to see you’re still alive,” his eyes are smiling as he talks “you looked kinda drunk last night.”

You fidget with the hem of the bag you’re holding.

“I wasn’t drunk.” You notice he’s growing some stubble. You’re not sure you like it.

“Whatever you say, doll.”  You bite your cheek trying to devour any sign that might give away how his words make you flinch.

He turns his body a little so now you’re facing each other. He’s so pretty. He’s so pretty in a way that doesn’t hurt. You try not to stare at him, but you fail sometimes. You’ve never noticed how slow the elevator moves until you want to get out. You can’t stand being so close to him for much longer.

He’s an arrogant rich actor who loves Disney and smokes a lot, you think. I have no reason to be affected by him.

“Ah! Argyris said we’re leaving for the weekend.” You eye him curiously. “He wants to show us some small villages in the south. He thinks we should get to know the country a little more before we start.”

You’re stunned by your neighbor’s dedication to his work. Sometimes you wish you had something you could be passionate about too. Sometimes you think you’re never going to find it.

“That’s great. I’m sure you’ll like it.” You give him a smile.

He leans his back at the wall. The elevator stops. Finally.

“I like your eyes.” You grab tight onto the bag. “But they don’t smile when you do.”

He opens the door and he’s gone.

They tell you that it’s fun to meet a famous person. They tell you, you can ask for a photo and a hug. They tell you celebrities don’t talk a lot but that doesn’t mean they’re rude.

But he’s not like that.

He’s fire. He’s burning heat and scorching flames. His words are his thoughts; raw. You don’t like it.

/

late night search history

(00:38 AM) blue valentine movie soundtrack

(01:15 AM) is sebastian stan a bad person

(01:30 AM) acting classes for amateurs

(01:50 AM) cheap leather boots

(02:10 AM) sebastian stan eyes

 You find it annoying; how he’s present even when you’re alone.

Thankfully he’s leaving for the weekend, you think.

/

The weekend, however, is two days away.

You think you can get away without seeing him. And you do. Until it’s late at night again. And they’re all upstairs with music so loud you’re certain the lady on the first floor is going to be rude about it in the morning.

The music tempo has you unaffected. All you think about is if he’s dancing with that woman again.

He’s such a bad dancer, he should not be dancing.

There’s a subtle knock on your door. You know it’s him. You hope you’re wrong.

“Do you feel like dancing?” His face is all flustered. It’s a good look on him.

“You can’t come knocking on my door at 2 AM and ask me to dance.” His gaze is filled with confusion.

“So you don’t feel like dancing?” You roll your eyes. He notices.

“That’s not the point Sebastian.” It’s the first time you call him by his name. You let it slip away slowly, testing the way it sounds coming out of your mouth.

He takes a step closer. You are suddenly aware of your pyjama shorts and your exposed skin.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to irritate you.” His eyes are the cliché blue of the sky. “I just thought you might want to dance, that’s all.”

Suddenly you feel guilty and embarrassed. He’s oblivious to it.

For a moment you feel his eyes linger on you. It feels surreal.

You nod at him.

He’s ready to say something when Argyris comes down the stairs, his shirt slightly unbuttoned.

“Ah man, I thought you got lost or something.” You lower your eyes. “Stop messing with the poor girl. People are looking for you.”

He throws a smile at you and Sebastian takes a quick breath.

“People are always looking for me.”

He gives away that he’s carrying a burden. Your expression softens. But then you look at Argyris and you see he doesn’t really pay attention to these words.

You share a quick look before you’re there standing alone at your doorstep, trying to grasp the idea of him.

/

When you wake up you feel like running. You can’t fathom where the feeling comes from but it starts like a liquid running down your veins and soon you can’t stay in bed even for a second.

Feelings eat us raw. Only if you let them.

.

i really appreciate feedback, it motivates me tons and also tell me if you’d like to be tagged in this six part story :)

[kaypeace21]

Idk if this is possible or not or if you've done it already but could you list all the rainbow references in the show?

Haha- talk about pandora’s box. Sure, personally i think the rainbows have multiple meanings -3 meanings to to be exact

1) Rainbows being associated with psychics + Will’s powers plot twist

*We see in the stranger thing novel 'suspicious minds' when overusing powers you may hallucinate rainbows (which are also associated with the void/ monsters in the series) .

Terry: “Spots bloomed behind her eyelids. Every color … as the sunlight turned to rainbows” ( p44-45), “streaks of rainbow appeared (p47)”,“The rainbow stayed with Terry for a long while, but eventually it faded and in its place: darkness. A pit.”(p. 48). 

Alice (who sees visions of the future) : “Snarling, snapping monsters,RAINBOW LIGHTS playing in the air around them” (p. 121).

cough Will being in the upsidedown/being chased by “monsters”. And Joyce communicating with Will  via “rainbow lights.”

The rainbow room (from s2) also has a rainbow on the door- according to the novel kali drew that rainbow. Similar to Will's rainbow drawing. Kali in the book also creates a rainbow allusion with sunflowers (Terry ref).

Kali: “field of yellow sunflowers  grew up around them. A rainbow arcing over the golden tops.” (p. 139).  “He noticed she’d drawn up there, a rainbow with her colored pencils. Maybe he’d suggest that for the playroom” (the rainbow room we see in s2) (p. 298)

I also already talked about how Terry saying "breath, sunflower, rainbow " is actually a reference to s1 Will- here (in link including pic of Will and Terry being told to “breath”.

*El in s3 also thinks of papa, her mother , and the rainbow room- cause she sees a cereal box with a rainbow (on it).

Dustin and susie sing a song from the film adaption of the book "never ending story". Which indicates how Will is subconsciously creating the supernatural creatures & people in the series . Before they sing, we also see  susie is next to a ‘wizard of oz’ posters & she reads & talks to Dustin about the book "wizard of earthsea'. 2 of the 3 examples have  rainbow-related songs (in their film adaptions) & all 3 hint at Will’s powers.

* wizard of earthsea:

It’s about a pre-teen wizard named Ged who has a bowl cut (Will) who casts a powerful spell, but the spell goes awry and instead he releases a shadow creature (by opening a portal between the living & dead- Will is a zombie boy remember?)! The new Archmage, Gensher, describes the shadow as an ancient evil that wishes to possess Ged. But the ‘shadow’ turns out  to be a representation of the darkest aspects of his personality. It’ only when he calls the shadow monster by his own name “Ged”(cough mf=will the wise) does the monster stop acting out. The only way to save the world is for ged to then  merge with the shadow(and for Ged to accept himself-and “become whole”).This also reminds me of the “Jungian shadow” 

* never ending story: 

Bastian ( who has a bowl cut- and is from single parent house hold) subconsciously creates a fantasy world being over run by darkness (symbolizing the loss of hope and dreams). One of the characters he creates is Atreyu (El). Atreyu ( was the child deemed the ‘chosen one). “Atreyu is knocked into the sea of possibilities. There he wakes on the shore of abandoned ruins. And Gmorick (mindflayer) then latches his jaws onto Atreyu’s (El’s) leg.”Pretty much what happened to El.”The Empress in the story later tells Atreyu, that despite being told he was the chosen one (he never was). And that it was always Bastian (Will) who was the chosen one-since his imagination created Fantasia (so he’s the only way to stop the darkness from over -running it).”

Will has mental health issues and  accidentally writes a “story” about the shadow monster (reflecting his tra*ma). Bastian is depressed (over his parent) and subconsciously creates a story about darkness over-running everything. Like how Hopper describes his depression- like a black hole.

song Dustin & Susie sing:

 “Written on the pages is the answer to a never ending story” (cough the books susie referenced - are explaining the answer to what’s causing the mindflayer/upsidedown/the lab...this story )

“DREAM a dream. And what you DREAM will be” ( Will’s imagination making his nightmares come true)

“Rhymes that keep their secrets Will unfold behind the clouds.And there upon a RAINBOW Is the answer to a never ending story.”

(the lyric “rhymes that keep their SECRETS” purposely pans to Will both times the song is sung). Because the ‘SECRET’ is -he’s causing everything. And thus he’s the only way to stop it- or they’ll all be stuck in a never-ending story. The only way to stop it is for Will to face his shadow/the mindflayer (aka the other Will) who is always shown within the STORM CLOUDS . Will needs to create a RAINBOW (out of those storm clouds). Like rainbows that show up AFTER a storm.He’d do this by accepting himself , his tra*ma/mental health relating to his dad, and or his gay identity- then the story will be able to end.Dustin even says “ defeat his RAINBOW of DARKNESS” (and later says a “rainbow is the answer ”(to the story). st book:”The RAINBOW stayed with Terry for a long while, but eventually it faded and in its place: DARKNESS. A pit.”AKA: Will has to face his symbolic darkness and the storm/and than create a rainbow from it- for the story to end...

When Dustin says ‘rainbow of darkness’ he talks about my little pony- where one of their friends became a dragon.  in d&d wizards can become dragons &Bastian also summons a dragon with his imagination powers in ‘never ending story’. And Will is associated with dragons: s1he  has dragon comic & drawing, s2 Will has dragon poster in his room + watches his friends play dragon game. And again... dungeons & dragons.

Also tw for s.a/parental ab*se (so skip to ‘wizard of oz’  if you prefer ). In the 4th book of wizard of Eathsea (20 years after the original, where ged was the protagonist). The new main  protagonist - was r*ped and burned by her father as a child (and in the sequel she became a dragon as a form of empowerment ). which goes with my lonnie theory-sadly.

*wizard of oz: 

it’s about a Dorothy creating a mythical world based on people she both likes and dislikes . Dorothy sings in the movie a song about a ‘RAINBOW’ and references ‘DREAMS’ coming true in a mythical land -much like the ‘never ending story’ song (referencing “rainbows”/”dreams” coming to life).

“There's a land that I heard of once in a lullaby Somewhere over the RAINBOW, Skies are blue, And the DREAMS that you dare to dream, really do come true...”

We see in s1 Hopper cop-partner calls the lab “emerald city”. Murray in s2 says people “don’t want to look behind the curtain” (to see what’s causing the supernatural -in the film what was literally behind the curtain was a wizard-cough like Will). We also have -lion, tiger, and bear stuffed animals (as a ‘lion, and tigers, and bears-oh my!’ quote )from the film. And David harbor (Hopper) when referencing the s4 rainbow room (quotes the song)  and he also quotes a speech from Dorothy-when posting about the cabin the mindflayer destroyed.

2) Rainbow cups (hinting at Lonnie’s return) 

We see 2 rainbow cups in the series. 

in s2) when Mike & Will are sitting together & saying they’re “crazy together” . This cup next to them says “happy birthday” in rainbow. Later that season- they talk about Will’s birthday-rainbow drawing, Mike&Will meeting & Lonnie leaving. And in s2, we also see in Will’s room a card that says “sorry, I forgot your birthday”(most likely from Lonnie). So both Lonnie & Mike are associated with Will’s bday.

in s3) We see a woman yell “I don’t want her in my house!” (while she sits next to a rainbow cup). reminiscent of Joyce saying to Lonnie “get out of my house”. We also know there are rumors s4 takes place during Will’s birthday & Lonnie’s actor may have been spotted on set.  Along with the fact (it’s pretty much confirmed) Mike will be visiting the Byers in s4. However, the woman (next to the rainbow cup)  also says “2 visitor only. 2!″

THE 2 VISITORS ARE MIKE &LONNIE (for Will’s b day). 

Also, in s3, when El is drinking from cup- she sees a rainbow. And what’s the first word she thinks of? “Papa.”

so rainbow+cup= shitty dads (lonnie & brenner) probably returning

*And of course if that’s the case -Lonnie (the same guy who called Will h*mophobic sl*rs) will not be supportive of Mike & Will’s “friendship”. And will not be nice to Mike (to say the least). Like... imagine Hopper in s3 - but we know he’s not bluffing and the audience won’t have the option to take it as a joke... and yes the s4 movies hint at that...

3) gay symbolism

First we have Mike wheeler. He in s1 has rainbows sheets, rainbow bedroom blinds , and in his basement there’s a heart propelled by a rainbow. This is like how in s3 Mike kisses El and there is a drawing that says "Mike'. And on the drawing is a heart propelled by a rainbow. I already explained how its symbolic of him trying to be straight/fighting his feelings for Will, but wherever he goes a rainbow still follows (even when he tries being romantic with El). He’s trying to hide his “rainbow heart” by dating  El- why in s3 (the rainbow-heart in his basement) mysteriously disappeared from his room (but a similar symbol follows Mike even when he kisses El). 

Even in s2 when talking about Will (in the AV tech room): Mike is placed in the center of 2 objects : an object with 11 on it & on the right a rainbow apple (this apple is supposed to be an ode to the gay father of computers- but also about the forbidden apple). Hinting at the love triangle of Mike (with El/Will). PLUS, in the ST book ‘worlds turned upsidedown’ they literally show Mike in the AV room- and  put the caption “FALLING IN LOVE- with tech” (and placed rainbow flags next to the caption). And of course we have Mike & Will pose next to the rainbow apple- in the AV room.

 We also see when Mike and Will says they’re “crazy together” (aka LOVE-as Flo stated) and they’re next to a rainbow cup that says Happy birthday .

And later that season they ref the rainbow ship Will drew for his birthday-which Joyce was "proud" of.  And while dancing with a girl (Will according to the script was looking at Mike instead of her) . That girl is wearing a rainbow heart hair pin. This is essentially a parallel to Mike . Will (next to a rainbow heart) is dancing with a girl, but is secretly thinking of Mike. Mike (next to a rainbow heart) is kissing el but secretly thinking of Will (and immediately goes on a movie double date with Will after this). The lyrics of both these scenes indicate they're not happy pretending to be straight. The lyrics for Will are "every smile you fake". And Mike while kissing el is "just a little uncertainty can bring you down" (and during this lyric is when El puts her hands on him-and he removes her hands from him *aka he’s not as confident in the relationship as he pretends to be.

We see in s4 bts that the rainbow heart hair pin (worn by the girl Will dances with) is also worn by nancy while standing next to Robin (who is gay). So being near a  ‘rainbow-heart’ is prob a hint a character is gay. Aka robin & Will & Mike.

tumblr user “awhstrangerthings” pointed out the nancy -hair clip detail.

In s1 when troy is calling Will h*mophobic sl*rs (in front of Mike) he wears a rainbow shirt. And max while often critiquing m*leven (in s3) (to Mike) often wears rainbow shirts. I talked about how I thought Troy and max subconsciously remind Mike he isn't straight - so they're associated with the rainbow iconography-post here. Like we see Max with rainbow sheets (like Mike) and than she immediately talks to him on the phone. I mean she could be queer- but I lean to that theory at the moment. 

The whole being near rainbows when associating with a queer character makes sense (it’s like a ‘gay-dar”). Similar to Nancy’s hair clip when being near Robin/ that Girl having the same rainbow hair clip when dancing with Will. If we assume this theory than see a pattern with other characters (when speaking about/being near queer coded characters)....

it’s similar to how : When lucas (via subtext) criticizes m*leven- he is also next to a rainbow (in Erica's room). I explained here- why it’s about m*leven.

or when Jonathan says he’s going to hang out with Will (it’s near a rainbow).

This Jonathan moment -Is similar to when Steve ( who has a rainbow bandaid-from the Byers’ house) calls Mike “Nancy” (which is slang for a gay guy)

*another addition: you see in the comments of this post ghostgirlsatin mentioned Dart has a rainbow blanket. But, I noticed a couple of other things. 

notice Dustin says "we have to talk- its about my friend ,Will". As Dustin is near rainbow lights and a rainbow bed sheet. Like how

A) rainbows are associated with the supernatural creatures + Will

B) rainbow lights associated with Will

C) rainbows near straight characters when talking about /near queer characters... similar to how Jonathan is near a rainbow when talking about Will

*also can’t tell if that is a ‘rainbow ship’ poster?

We also see Erica has a sunflower & rainbow drawing in her room... at the moment not sure if its just a random easteregg , foreshadowing something supernatural we're not aware of yet? or just for the m*leven diss?

(although given the fact i think some characters were created by Will- and given all the Max &Billy/Will & jonathan parallels ... the rainbow stuff may be a hint Will created them? I mean they even made a Troy comic just to show his dad is a bully.) But, at the moment, i still lean to (some) characters having rainbow iconography because they’re referring to/are near a queer character.

[chudleycanonficfest]

Day 20, Story #2 is by @floreatcastellumposts

Title: Dittany Author/Artist: FloreatCastellum Pairing: Neville/Hannah Prompt: Bravery Rating: T Trigger Warning(s) (if any): Discussion of maternal death, mentions of violence. 

Hannah's mother had been a muggleborn, and that had been her death sentence. 

Or rather, she had been a muggleborn with the audacity and bravery to be proud about it. 

Most muggleborns ended up slipping entirely into wizarding society, and as much as they might say that they would keep in touch with their roots, the magic took over. Jeans became robes, electronics didn’t work in their homes so their pop culture references grew stale, the effort involved in keeping the statute of secrecy for extended family and old friends was too exhausting to sustain, so they saw them less and less and eventually… 

This had not happened for Mum, even though the Abbotts were a very old family, well rooted in the magical community. She had agreed with Dad to live in Godric’s Hollow, because the Abbotts had lived there for many generations, but she had insisted on Hannah attending the local primary school, where she could make muggle friends. She was adamant that they make regular trips to Liverpool, to visit her side of the family, who believed that she worked in HR (which she did, but for a potion manufacturer, not for a haulage company as they believed) and that Hannah had received a scholarship to an exclusive boarding school, and that Dad owned a pub (which he did, but they neglected to mention that it was frequented by witches, wizards, goblins, the occasional hag and a half giant). And when the Stephens side of the family came to visit, they would have a flurry of activity where they would hide away anything magical-looking, and from the loft they would bring down the big television, and they would speed read some muggle newspapers so they could give their opinions on Tony Blair or Men Behaving Badly or Charles and Diana’s divorce or whatever else they thought might come up.  

That was life as Hannah knew it, and it never felt complicated or brave or shocking or daring or any of the things she later found out it was. 

She remembered certain details from the day very clearly. She’d been easing sneezewort plants out of their pots, the last repotting before winter, her fingers shaking at the long, pale roots, creating a rain of soil. The last of the cream coloured petals, curled and brown at the edges, fell onto the potting bench. There was a sudden shock of cold air, a breeze from the door opening that hit their faces and whipped through their hair.  

‘Professor Dumbledore’s here,’ said Susan with surprise, and Hannah had glanced up to see him closing the door to the humid greenhouse, his long white beard tucked into his belt, Professor Sprout hurrying over to him. 

Hannah looked back down at her plant. The roots were all tangled together. Professor Dumbledore was probably here for Harry Potter, there were all sorts of rumours flying around about secret meetings between the two of them. 

The plant needed a much bigger pot, but the roots were strong, there was no rot there. 

‘Hannah.’ 

There was no hiding the bewilderment on her face. She had never had a direct conversation with the Headmaster before, and here he was, speaking kindly, gently, softly, one hand touching her shoulder and the other, black looking, gesturing to the door. 

‘I need to-’ she started saying, as he led her out. Everyone was staring. 

‘Don’t worry, dear,’ said Professor Sprout, and her voice sounded so strange, ‘I’ll finish up here for you.’ 

Perhaps part of her had known then. She knew it was something terrible. She was too afraid to ask. No one was ever pulled out of class for a good reason. She walked up to the castle alongside him as though in a dream, her heart beating up through her throat and into her mouth.

She was not sure how it happened, but suddenly she was in the warmth of his office, staring at Professor Dumbledore’s grave face, his lips moving, without really hearing, except for that first, terrible, world destroying little phrase. 

‘I’m so very sorry to tell you that your mother has been found dead.’ 

There would be no worse event, no greater loss, no stronger pain in her entire life. 

There was still dirt under her nails and in the creases of her palms, she noticed, as she reached into the silver box of floo powder. 

It had been so long since she had seen Godric’s Hollow like this, golden and red in its autumn. Fallen leaves tumbled and floated down the river that rushed through the village, or collected in the gutters along the cobbled roads, damp and heavy. The sun stayed a little lower each day, casting long shadows across the beer garden of The Lost Owl, and the wind ruffled the sign on the door which read ‘Closed due to family bereavement.’ 

During the days, she wondered what to do with herself, stuck between boredom and terrible, overwhelming grief. When she could cry no more, she wondered if there was something wrong with her for wanting to find something interesting or fun to do, but when she tried to read, she could not focus. When she tried to listen to the radio, she would fall asleep. She could not bring herself to ask her weeping father to play cards or chess or anything with her. She thought of going back into school, but how could she see other people? Now that the world had ended? She wanted to tell people about it, wanted to say the words enough until they made sense to her, or until someone found the right words to say back that would make it OK, but she did not want to do this to her friends. 

At nights, she would cry herself to sleep, and her whispers, please come back please Mummy please come back, would grow and grow and grow into sobs, begging into her pillow as the agony of it tore at her, the desperation, the feverish thought that there had to be something, that this couldn’t be it, there had to be a way, a special way, just for them, just for her, because it was her mother and there was no way she could live without her. Mum wouldn’t leave her like this, there was no way Mum would allow it, she would go to the ends of the earth to make sure that Hannah was happy, she had always said so, she had always promised… 

But Death was something parents could not protect their children from, it seemed. The more Hannah thought on it, the more she became crushingly devastated, horrified to realise that each and every human on Earth had to endure this at some point. In different ways, at different times, with different feelings, but the mere act of bringing a child into the world was to condemn that child, one day, to the unbearable pain of loss. Every person she passed, she wondered, have you suffered as I have? Or is it yet to come for you? She wished she could spare them from it.

The aurors said she was probably targeted because she loudly and openly discussed her muggle heritage in the pub, and it must have been heard by the wrong people. That was what passed for bravery these days. 

In the church of St Jerome, the stained glass window pattered with rain, and Hannah looked up at the colours of red and yellow and green rather than looking at the coffin with the splay of lilies, and she wondered when this nightmare would end, when Mum would come back, and tell her that everything would be all right. 

***

Months passed in unbearable agony, worse than she could have imagined. But there were glimmers of light there too. 

Here, at the school she thought she would never return to, in the place that was filled with unimaginable horror and oppression, she had purpose again. More purpose, in fact, than she had ever had in her life. And with it, new friendships that ran deeper than she had ever expected. 

‘This way,’ Neville whispered, and they ran low across the lawn of the grounds. Some of the windows in the castle behind them blazed with light, so that she thought for a terrible moment that they must be visible from the Great Hall, but, of course, the windows would be black with night to anyone who looked out from them. 

It was the summer term now, but the air was still cold as they panted, as though Dementors were close, which, she reasoned, they might be. She could feel the dew of the grass, left to grow long since Hagrid had left, soaking the bottoms of her jeans, seeping through her ratty trainers. 

Following the dark shadow of Neville’s figure, she ran through the grounds until she heard the crunch of gravel underfoot, and, ahead, the slight shine of starlight reflecting off the greenhouses. 

‘They’re in greenhouse three,’ Neville muttered, and her stomach dropped. 

He did not notice, and continued to hurry along the garden path, past the raised beds for the hardier plants and herbs, and she followed, but at a walk now, dread gnawing at her. 

He stopped at the door, holding his hands up to the glass to peer in. ‘OK…’ he said, still breathless from the run. ‘OK, looks clear… Now, while I talk to the venomous tentacula, you grab a tray, and fill it with perlite and only a few handfuls of compost, it’s a mountain plant so it likes it nice and rocky.’ 

‘OK,’ she said, and though she thought she sounded normal, he turned to her. She could barely make out his expression in the darkness. 

‘Are you all right?’ 

‘I… I’m sorry, I just… I haven’t been in the greenhouses for a long time… especially not this one. I should have thought before I volunteered, I'm sorry.’ 

She felt immediately embarrassed for blurting it out, and she had no idea if Neville would even grasp what she was getting at. He had been in the class, yes, but did he even remember that day? What had been the worst day of her life had been a perfectly ordinary school day for the rest of her classmates, and so many terrible things had happened since then. 

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘I can’t leave you out here.’ 

She thought he was telling her off, or saying that they had to go back, but before she had the time to feel hurt or ashamed, he was holding out his hand towards her. 

She swallowed, and then placed her trembling hand in his. She was not unaccustomed to physical touch with him, or many others. Over the past year, she had tended wounds and comforted people as they cried, she had grasped hands and arms and knees under desks to soothe people or tell them to control themselves, she had passed secret notes and morsels of food and whatever else needed smuggling, slipping it nimbly from her fingers into their palms as they passed in the corridors.  

But now his fingers pressed firm and reassuring against hers, and there was something very different about them holding hands. 

She let him lead her into the greenhouse; the humid, warm air surrounded them at once, like an odd sort of hug that sat heavy on their lungs. Tall, leafy plants towered above them, brushing the domed glass high above their heads, which magically reflected the brilliant stars above them and lit the place in glorious silver. 

Now that she was in here, she felt a little better. The dread that had stopped her ever returning here, that had caused her to drop herbology and pretend that this part of the castle no longer existed, had not come to pass. It was, after all, simply a greenhouse, and Mum could not die again. 

‘Are you all right?’ he said gently. 

‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘Thank you.’ 

He nodded, and reached for some gloves on a nearby bench. She missed his hand around hers. ‘Let’s move quickly, and get you out of here,’ he said, donning some goggles and a thick leather apron.  

She went to the potting tables where Professor Sprout always stood, and seized a large seedling tray. As she took handfuls of compost and perlite, she could see Neville wrestling with the venomous tentacular, saying, ‘I’ll bring you doxy granules tomorrow - I’ll move you to a sunnier spot - I already checked with Professor Sprout - come on, you knew this was part of the deal, we agreed-’

Eventually, when he had tied enough of the writhing vines together with garden twine and stroked the shoots into calmness, he gave a nod to Hannah, and started to remove his protective gear as she hurried over and they squeezed behind the plant

There, on a table surrounded by blue lanterns to make up for the blocked light caused by the tentacula, were long, deep pots, stuffed with dittany. Their slender, arching stems were clustered with pleasant green leaves, with a dusty sort of whiteness, and they were dotted with pink flowers. She had never seen the plant as it was before; she had only ever remembered the little vials of dittany kept in their first aid kit, good for scraped knees and cuts from any broken glass in the pub. Mum had always said it was good to be prepared in an emergency, it had been one of her funny little things like that, along with being a bit of a hypochondriac, and so Hannah had had a vial in the bottom of her trunk when she returned to school. That, combined with her good potions knowledge, had helped her stumble into a kind of mothering role that she found had rather suited her. 

‘I just need the flowers, the book says,’ she said, as Neville started gently pulling some up by the roots. 

‘Yes, but I think it’d be good if I can grow another set somewhere, as a back up so we don’t have to keep sneaking out here. It’s just me and Seamus in the dorm, I don’t think he’d mind if I put them in the window between Harry and Ron’s beds. Here, take these, cut the flowers where the stem splits off - yeah, there - so it’ll grow back.’ 

‘It’s really pretty,’ she said. ‘I wasn’t expecting it to be so pretty. It’s usually that the most useful plants are the ugliest.’ 

‘It is,’ said Neville absent-mindedly. ‘It’s from Crete. The healing properties were only discovered in the 17th century - people used to think it was an aphrodisiac, and it’s still used in some love potions.’ 

She looked at him, and though the light in the greenhouse was white starlight only, she could still see his cheeks burn red. 

‘It’s… it’s not, though,’ he mumbled. ‘Well… a little bit, but I… I don’t know why I said that.’

‘Because it’s interesting,’ she said quickly, as he busied himself repotting the seedlings. He nodded rapidly, and cleared his throat a little, and she cast around for something to say. ‘You… you should be careful, growing these in the dorm. If you’re caught-’

‘There’s no rule against growing plants,’ he said. ‘I’ve had plants up there loads of times. Especially my mimbulus mimbletonia, that’s had pride of place for a while.’

‘You know they don’t need an explicit rule,’ she said quietly. ‘They do what they want. If they think you’re… doing anything good, anything kind. That’s enough.’ 

He nodded, looking down at the delicate, thin roots of the dittany. There was a reason that he and Professor Sprout were growing such an innocent plant in such secrecy. ‘I know… but… it’s worth the risk.’ 

‘That’s very brave.’ 

‘Is it? Just growing a plant? Is that what passes for bravery these days?’ 

‘Yes,’ she said honestly. ‘Anything good does now. And it’s not just that.’ She paused, still cradling one of the delicate, rose pink flowers in her hand. ‘I mean… what were you thinking in muggle studies the other day? I hated seeing you screaming like that.’ 

‘Well I had to say something. It was repulsive, what she was saying about muggle children.’ 

‘No one believes her, no one really thinks-’

‘We don’t know that. Maybe some people might start believing her, because it’s easier. And anyway, it’s not just about that. Remember Umbridge?’ 

‘I try not to,’ she said dryly, and in the pale, washed out starlight she saw him grin. 

‘I know it’s stupid, but as Ginny and Luna haven’t come back, and Harry and Ron aren’t here, or Dean, or loads of other people… I’ve been-’ he sighed, as though frustrated he couldn’t find the words, ‘I’ve been trying to think about what they would do. I can’t afford to be Neville Longbottom, I’ve got to be someone braver. And Harry used to just completely go off on her, used to tell her straight in lessons that You-Know-Who was back, and, yeah, it got him more trouble than it felt like it was worth at the time, but you know what? I always found it really inspiring.’ 

‘I did too,’ she said quietly. ‘I remember thinking… well… why would he stick to a lie through all that?’ 

‘Exactly. He had principles, and if he was here he wouldn’t stand for any of that rot. There’s a lot of times over the past few months where I’ve just tried to…’ he shrugged helplessly, ‘pretend that I’m Harry. That I’m brave.’ 

‘I don’t think you’re pretending at all,’ she said. ‘You are brave. You always have been. You’re a Gryffindor, aren’t you?’ 

‘Somehow.’ 

‘No somehow about it. You’re the bravest man I know, and that includes Harry.’ 

‘How on earth does it include Harry?’ he asked, and he sounded like he was on the verge of laughter. 

‘Because he’s had to be,’ she said. ‘I’ve grown up in Godric’s Hollow, you know, I’ve seen the ruined house that he lived in. He’s had to be brave all the way from when he was a baby. But I didn’t. You didn’t. You’ve chosen to be brave, you’ve chosen to channel him. You're a pureblood, you could choose, every day, to keep your head down and get on with things, but you don't. You stand up and call her a bigoted liar in class and get tortured and you never back down. I find that more inspiring than anything.’ 

‘That’s very kind of you,’ he said quietly.  

‘And you were brave lots of times even before. Don’t you remember winning those points all the way back in first year?’ 

He beamed, and looked at her directly, for the first time since he had blurted out that dittany was an aphrodisiac. ‘You remember that?’ 

‘Of course I do. Dumbledore pointing out about standing up to your friends - he was so right, that does take a lot of bravery. I tried to do it next year, when Ernie was telling me that Harry was the heir of Slytherin. I’m sorry to say that I wasn’t as brave as you, but at least I tried, I suppose.’ 

‘I think you’re very brave too,’ he said. ‘Looking after everyone like this, handing out essence of dittany, running out here with me to get more… I’m sorry that you’ve had to come back in here. I didn’t think.’ 

‘I didn’t either,’ she said, and she started cutting more flowers. ‘I was just so focused on the idea of more, I didn’t really think about where I’d be getting it from… But, you know, I’m OK, actually. The thought of it was worse than the reality. It’s just a greenhouse.’ She looked around. The white starlight bleached the dark greenery into shades of silver, bounced off the watering cans, sparkled in the droplets of water from the sprinklers. ‘A very beautiful one.’ 

‘I like to think so,’ he said, a little hoarsely. ‘I always found this whole place beautiful, but now it… sometimes feels like only the greenhouses still are. They’re the only place I haven’t seen people being tortured.’ 

She paused. ‘I’m secretly thankful my mum isn’t alive to see this. Is that awful? I’m just glad she never had to worry about me being here. I feel bad enough for Dad.’ 

‘It’s not awful,’ said Neville. ‘I know what you mean.’ 

‘Do you?’ 

‘My parents don’t know anything about what’s going on, and for the first time in my life, I’m glad,’ he said, and for some reason his words seemed to surprise him. 

‘What do you mean?’ she asked, and without thinking she put down the little secateurs and touched his arm. He breathed deeply, not quite meeting her eyes, pressing down one of the seedlings quite firmly into the tray, before finally turning to her.

‘I live with my gran, because… my…’ He took another deep breath, and suddenly there was a clanging from outside. 

They froze, and heard a low voice swearing. 'Bloody wheelbarrow…' 

Hearts thudding, they ducked down and stayed silent, Neville silently mouthing for Hannah to get onto the large empty shelf under the potting table, where bags of compost were usually kept. He reached up, fumbling for the secateurs, and then started crawling along on his belly. 

'What are you doing?' she whispered, horrified. Alecto Carrow was opening the door to the greenhouse, still muttering and swearing about the wheelbarrow he had tripped over. 

He put a finger to his lips, and then pointed at the venomous tentacula, which had begun to writhe against the twine. The snip snip snip of the secateurs seemed unreasonably loud, but from the other side of the greenhouse Carrow did not appear to hear them, rifling noisily through the plants and shrubs, sending terracotta pots crashing to the floor. 

'Anyone in here?' he demanded. 'I saw your footprints in the gravel. Hello?' 

The vines of the tentacula waved threateningly, and Hannah watched with trembling fear as one of them reached out to Neville, still prone on the ground, and started to wrap itself around his throat. 

'Don't be cheeky,' she heard him mutter to it, and he calmly prodded it with the secateurs until it released him. 

It kept one tendril around his ankle, but Neville seemed to allow it as a compromise, and instead watched through the vines as Carrow upturned a table, still shouting and swearing. 

After several, agonisingly long minutes, Carrow came close to them. The venomous tentacula silently released Neville’s ankle, and raised it's spiked tendrils. 

'OW! Son of a bludger-' 

A long line of expletives followed, and the venomous tentacular shook noisily, whip-like noises echoing through the greenhouse as it reached after Carrow, now bolting from the room. 

'Grab the tray,' Neville told Hannah. 'He'll be heading straight to the hospital wing, we should have a clear path back. Quickly, before the tentacula gets over-excited and turns on us-' 

She did so at once and he held back the spiked vines as she squeezed past the plant, and hurried safely out of range. 

She stood there, holding her tray of little dittany plants and the heads of the flowers. She watched as Neville easily unentangled himself from the tentacula, patted it, said, 'thanks mate,' and grabbed a clear cover for the tray. He came close to her as he fitted it over the dittany, protecting them from the cold night air they would have to hurry back through.  

His face was inches from her own, and she felt her breath hitch in her throat a little as she looked up at him. There was a slight clunk as the lid of the tray found its place. For a moment, they were perfectly still, just their breathing in that humid place, and his eyes, shining light blue in the pale light, lifted from the tray of dittany to meet her own. 

'Do you really think I'm brave?' he whispered. 

She nodded, and he seemed to be steeling himself for something. Please, she thought, please make this place good for me again. Her hands gripped the edges of the tray.

Very gently, very slowly, he leaned closer over the tray. His hand moved as though to softly move her face to meet his, but he didn't need to, for she was already naturally tilting her head, and her heels were lifting a little off the ground without her bidding them to. 

Their lips met, soft like the petals of the dittany between them, sweet like the fragrance. His fingertips were trembling slightly as they caressed against her cheek, but then they calmed as the kiss deepened. 

The tray pressed into them as he tried to move closer, and it reminded them where they were. They broke apart, panting and gasping as though they had just finished the run down from the castle. 

She had never kissed anyone before. She was glad, unbelievably, overwhelmingly, joyfully glad, that her first kiss had been with Neville, in this place where the warm air was scented with damp soil and sweet flowers. 

'We… we should take these back,' he said, his voice slightly hoarse. ‘Let - let me take them.’ 

He took the tray from her, and in her happy daze she allowed it, and let him lead the way out of the greenhouse. Joy had returned to her again, beneath the fogged glass, amongst the green plants, bursting with life. 

[toushindai]

Respect and approval in the relationship between Zagreus and Megaera

So, I think a lot of people know that there's a mini storyline between Megaera and Zagreus that proceeds as follows: Megaera brusquely informs Zagreus that his victories against her "don't count" as he couldn't possibly have achieved them without Nyx's help via the mirror. If you respond to this by emptying out the mirror and fighting her, she'll remark on it. This exchange is referenced in an incredible video about Hades' dialogue system that I will link in the comments to this post (since we all know how tumblr is about links) and which I highly recommend if you haven't watched it already.

But I was surprised that the video didn't go on to highlight what is my favorite (and surely relevant to the video?) aspect of this storyline--that once you've beaten Meg like that, the followup conversation at home has three different variants based on how many gifts you've given her!

Spoilers for a lot of late-game, including post-credits, content.

The three variants are low relationship (zero gifts - five gifts); high relationship (six gifts - nine gifts); "became close" relationship (ten gifts).

At low relationship, the conversation is as follows. I apologize but I don't have screenshots for any of these; I'm taking the text from the files.

Megaera: Beaten. By you. Without the help of Nyx's mirror. You humiliated me. And now you've come to rub it in, I guess? Well, go on, then. Not like you can shame me any more. Zagreus: Meg, what is it going to take for you to quit treating me like I'm incompetent? Have I not grown even a little since we met? You were supposed to teach me something; what does that make you? Megaera: Tsch... why don't you raise your voice a little louder so that all the House can hear. Is that what you want? For everyone to know that you're superior to me? Zagreus: You're not hearing me, Meg. I know it sounds a little disingenuous considering we keep fighting to the death and all, but... I never meant to hurt you. Megaera: You give yourself far too much credit, Zagreus. Leave me alone.

At high relationship:

Megaera: Beaten. By you. Without the help of Nyx's mirror. You humiliated me. And now you've come to rub it in, I guess? Well, go on, then. Not like you can shame me any more. Zagreus: Meg, that isn't why I'm here, you know that isn't how I am. Why can't you see it? All I've ever wanted was to prove myself to you. Megaera: Tsch... you think that you can prove yourself to me by winning in a fight? Zagreus: Sometimes I think that I can never really win with you, Meg. If I held back, what would you have thought? Megaera: If you think you know me so well, Zagreus, then you ought to know better than to keep this conversation going with me, now.

(Yeah, that's "high relationship.")

At became close relationship:

Megaera: I can't believe it, Zag. I thought for sure that Nyx's mirror was the only reason you could beat me. I knew you'd changed to some extent, but... not this much. Zagreus: I had to see if I could do it, Meg. I've learned so much from you, I... thought maybe this was a way that I could prove myself to you. And to myself. Megaera: Prove yourself, to me...? You must not be as comfortable in your own skin as you let on. I can't decide if I like that about you. Now leave me alone while I give it some thought.

Which... it's better, right? It's better. It's maybe not great, still. But they are trying.

I mean so let's take this from the top. At low relationship, the conversation is fairly acrimonious on both sides. Feeling humiliated by her loss, Meg lashes out, and Zag snaps in return that if Meg's going to keep treating him like he's incompetent, it's only a reflection on her, who was supposed to teach him something. In this version of their conversation, we see the shadow of the relationship Hades pointedly engineered between the two of them raise its head, and if I were ever asked to textually back up my certainty that Meg, not only Zag, contributed to their breakup, I think I'd cite this. Meg's lack of respect for Zag is clearly a longstanding point of tension. Here, Zag feels like he's done something that ought to earn him her respect, only to be... what? Meg's first line is largely about her own insecurities rather than her opinion of Zag, but at the same time, the assumption that she should be superior, that that's the natural order of things, is baked into it. It's a serious blow to her pride that Zag has upset that natural order, and she's projecting her shame into an assumption that Zagreus is here to pettily gloat. Which is insulting, and Zagreus reacts from that place of insult.

But in his second line, as if he notices her pain, Zag is able to disengage from his anger a little (his portrait shifts from his angry "Defiant" one to his "Empathetic" one), realize that their communication is going a bit awry, and tell Meg that he doesn't mean to hurt her. This does not have the effect he possibly hoped for, and before Meg tells him to hit the bricks she says that he gives himself too much credit--by thinking that he has the capability to hurt her. Now this is a pattern with her, throughout their redeveloping relationship, even at max relationship, even once they're back together: Megaera repeatedly states that Zagreus can't hurt her. Here, it has a clear implication that she thinks Zagreus beneath her, not worth getting hurt over. ...It's absolutely belied by her humiliation in the rest of the conversation, but the scorn with which she makes the assertion is cutting and unkind.

Although... I do wonder. Especially given Zag's statement that he "never meant to hurt [her]"--that doesn't sound like he's just talking about his neat trick of getting past her darkness-free. He's referring to their past, almost certainly, and at 0-5 gifts this is well before he gets around to a proper apology or even his feelingsdump (feelingsdump, er, I'm sorry, "building trust", the "we need to talk" conversation, follows gift#6, the last nectar). What I wonder, sometimes, is--when Megaera says that Zagreus can't hurt her (boy does she love to say that.), if part of what she's saying is that Zagreus is not the only person contributing to the poor relationship between them. This is a thought on a different topic, I guess, and I'm not saying that in this conversation, she suddenly has a flash of insight that she's being kind of shitty and chases him away for that reason. Sincerely, I do think "I'm too good to be hurt by Zagreus" is an emotional habit she has for a sizeable chunk of time--perhaps one she developed as a reaction to their breakup, or as a shield against it as she saw it coming--and is what she means here. But maybe it means something else later. I certainly hope so. Because boy. she really loves to say it.

Let's talk about the variant at high relationship next. You could get this variant anywhere between the last nectar ("We may be immortals, but we're older now") and having given her the second-to-last ambrosia ("I wish I could do over how we started"). Once you give her the last ambrosia (when they drink together), you're in the territory of the final variant.

Meg's still cranky; her first line is the same as in the low relationship variant. It's Zagreus, who is at this time in the process of trying to get back in her good graces, who is less testy in response. I'd say he's clearly still hurt by her response, but he doesn't express that hurt by sniping back at her this time. Instead, he opens up, trying to make his intentions more clear, reminding her that he isn't the type to gloat. He all but says that he wants her respect. And he doesn't get it, here. Frankly, this variant is not much of an improvement on the low relationship one. Meg is less openly insulting, but it's clear that she still doesn't want to be having the conversation.

My thoughts on this variant are similar to my thoughts on some of the ambrosia conversations--and I say this as the most dedicated MegZag shipper you will ever see--in that when I see this, I'm not sure why Zagreus bothers. If, like he says, there's really no action he could take here that wouldn't end in Meg being peeved at him, what is he reaching for? He wants to prove himself to her--why? Is her approval worth having here? When Meg says (to cite the gift nine/third ambrosia conversation) that it's just a question of whether Zag is worth her time, why is it positive that Zagreus's wistful response is to ask her if he is worth her time, then?

Let me start bringing in the became close relationship variant here, starting with the last line of it, because Meg's response to Zagreus outright stating that he wants to prove himself to her is emotionally very similar to her response to Zag asking her if he is worth her time. In both cases, she seems to... not soften, exactly. She seems taken aback. She sees Zagreus's desire for her approval and his vulnerability that he lays bare in front of her, and in both cases, her response is one of uncertainty. She wants time to think about it on her own. She has kept hardening herself in response to the pain of their earlier failure (not every relationship that doesn't work out is a failure but I am quite certain she felt this way about theirs, if only because she was supposed to shape Zagreus a certain way), she hardens herself verbally and defiantly right in front of Zag's damn face, and he answers with wistful vulnerability. She tells him he can't hurt her, and he answers with "OK. But do you care about me? Could you?"

I almost wonder if Zagreus's vulnerability makes Megaera ask herself the same questions that these conversations make me ask myself. That remark she makes, that she's not sure how she feels about Zagreus's insecurity--I wonder if she's seeing how she's contributed to it, and needs time to figure out how to respond more kindly. And not just "more kindly," but in a way that's better for him. In the became close relationship conversation variant, Meg starts off in a much better mood, and offers the approval that--as we've seen in the other variants--Zagreus wants so keenly. However, when he states that as an outright motivation, I think she questions that influence she has on Zagreus, and wavers on whether or not it's a positive one, and wants to withdraw to sort out... everything about that situation. It's not an emotionally vulnerable response, maybe, but I do get the sense that it's a compassionate one.

These two are not perfect. They're coming from a background of a relationship that was arranged for them with the explicit intention of forcing Zagreus to mature--a setup that implicitly (if Hades didn't go ahead and make it explicit which, lbr, he very possibly did) defines Megaera as more mature and therefore superior. That relationship fell apart--and how could it not, with a setup like that--and some time has passed, and now they're stuck in a loop of fighting each other to the death. It's not ideal! But they cared about each other, back during their first relationship. Zagreus outright tells us that he caught feelings. Megaera talks around the same admission--through the rigidness with which she tells Zagreus and herself that they can't return to the way things were, that it isn't possible; through her admission, when Zag says he wishes he could change how they started, that she too "wish[es] for a lot of things." They cared-past-tense and they care-present-tense, but they still have emotional habits from the past, from the imposed hierarchy of their first relationship, and even in the most positive variant of Meg's response to the darkness-free victory, even in some of their biggest steps forward, we see some of those habits rear their head. It's something they have to work on and will continue to work on, I think.

And it's not a hopeless process. One of the best in-game contrasts to this dynamic is (of all things) when Megaera notices that Zagreus has made it onto the Featured Houseservant board. She remarks that never in her wildest fantasies did she imagine that Zagreus would make it up there. Zagreus, I think, doesn't know how to respond to that--he picks up the "wildest fantasies" thread rather than the compliment, bless this horny little man--but Meg is undeterred and points out that he really should be proud of such an achievement. And I think this is the perfect solution to the dilemma that is Zag's desire for Meg's approval, because Meg's uncertainty over that, her sense that it's an insecure concern, is justified. So here, she's showing that she respects his achievement but emphasizing that it's something about him, something he can and should feel intrinsic pride over, rather than just taking pleasure in her extrinsic approval.

This has gotten long (oh god it has gotten long) so I think I'll wrap up here. One of the things I love about Hades is how it doesn't force relationships to be Suddenly Great Now That The Story's Over. Hades and Zagreus are still struggling to figure out a relationship that works. Persephone isn't sure she knows how to be Zagreus's mother. Meg's still not getting along with her sisters (although it has been brought to her attention that she is as culpable in their relationship as they are). I think this point of awkwardness between Zagreus and Megaera--their having to figure out a system of mutual respect where it has not been before--is another example of that pattern. And I think they've got a shot at it. I think they can pull it off.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Exactly What You Wanted

CW: Drunk whumpee, referenced drug use, abuse survivor lashing out, low-level ptsd, rough recovery drabble, some references to dubcon and noncon

Timeline: During the years of Kauri’s Poor Life Choices

“Come on, baby,” Kauri says, in a voice like a deep rumbling purr, tilting his head just right, putting all that heat and warmth he doesn’t really feel into his eyes. He’s a good liar, he’s a great liar, and the booze in his veins and whatever that guy gave him two hours ago make him feel unstoppable. “Take me back.” He pauses, then giggles, and he knows they love to hear him laugh, they always love to hear him laugh.

He can laugh with a knife to his throat, he can laugh with his legs spread, he can laugh when every other trainee would be screaming, if they were in his place.

Jake, though, Jake doesn’t like the laugh. He doesn’t like the heat in Kauri’s eyes. He doesn’t like the voice, or the head-tilt, or any of it. He just sets his jaw, looking around the bar as if checking for witnesses, and Kauri can’t stop laughing at how comically serious he is. 

“Oh my god.” Kauri giggles again, puts his hands over his mouth. The bar is spinning around him, the colors are liquid bleeding into each other, he can feel the air move over his skin, like someone touching him. “You look like you ate a lemon.”

“I have class tomorrow, Kauri,” Jake says, voice sharp and flat somehow both at once, and he grips Kauri by the arm, pulling him towards the exit. A few of the guys at the table Kauri was sitting at boo loudly at the loss of Kauri’s sparkling brilliance - or maybe just at losing the way he’d been sitting in their laps one by one just to feel their arms around him. “I don’t mind taking you home-”

“Not my hooooome,” Kauri singsongs, but he lets himself be pulled. Jake’s hand on his arm feels nice. All of it feels nice, all touch, anyone’s hands mouth whatever they want on him, it’s nice. 

Means he’s wanted.

Means he’s real.

Jake exhales, rubbing his free hand over his face. He looks tired, doesn’t he? Kauri can suddenly see those dark circles under his eyes, the way his hair is all mussed up from a pillow. 

“I woke you up,” Kauri says as they leave, the stale heat and booze-smell from inside the bar giving way to cooler, fresher air outside. He lets Jake pull him down the sidewalk, looking up at him. He nearly walks into someone going the opposite way, until Jake pulls him to the side. “You, you were asleep when the phone rang.”

“Yeah,” Jake says roughly. His shirt’s on inside-out - Kauri hadn’t noticed that before, either. He must have rolled out of bed and changed out of his pajamas without even taking time to check. 

Kauri called for a ride and Jake didn’t waste a second.

“My car’s a few lots down,” Jake says, not looking at him as they walk. Kauri hums, taking in the beauty of the streetlights with their halos like angels hovering over the road, lighting the sidewalk. Someone calls his name and Kauri waves, trying to go give her a hug, but Jake’s grip on his arm stops him. It stops him, and makes his heart beat faster. “If we hurry, we can get back by 3, I can sleep til 6:30 if I pay for parking tomorrow instead of taking the bus.” He sounds like he’s already worked this all out for himself, and maybe he has. Maybe he talked through it the whole way here.

Kauri thinks of Jake talking to himself, planning out his day at a stoplight, and starts laughing again. Once he starts laughing, he can’t stop. They pass a small park, a kind of courtyard between two businesses, and Kauri puts up a hand, collapsing onto a bench. He can’t stop the giggling bubbling up out of him.

Jake all serious-faced, checking his phone, I can be asleep by 3:30, I can do this, I can do that, his whole planned life and his classes and Kauri is drunk at a bar and he’s high at a bar he did some stuff with a guy in a bar and he’s calling for a ride back from the bar-

“Kauri, come on.” Jake’s voice is weary, not just tired, not just sleepy, but exhausted. By the night, and by Kauri himself. “I don’t have time, I have to go to sleep.”

“You’re as stupid as I am,” Kauri says when he can get control of himself enough to speak, and there’s still laughter edging his voice, slightly breathless. “You know that? You’re a fucking moron just like me. Doing this. You’re so fucking stupid, we’re both so fucking stupid, Jake.”

“Kauri, you’re not stupid. I’m not talking about this here with you-”

“Why do you do this? Huh?” Kauri shakes his head, sweaty black curls sticking to his forehead in a sudden chill as a breeze ruffles them. He can feel his hair at the back of his neck, too, pressing there. Not the weight of a collar, but a memory of one anyway. “Why do you answer when I call?”

Jake swallows, rubs at his face again. “Because I want to-”

“No. No, that’s not it. No, you answer because I’m your fucking... your charge, right? Your ward. Because you feel sorry for me.” Kauri giggles, but there’s no real humor in it now. “I’m pitiful.”

“It’s not like that. You’re in pain-”

“Oh, shove your fucking psych-talk, Dr. Stanton.” Kauri shakes his head, leaning his back against the metal curve of the bench, looking straight up. In the city there are no stars, only a faint glow of lights making even the night sky just a little orange around the edges. “That’s what it is, right? You feel sorry for us, so you get to be the big hero, and we’re the pretty little pets grateful for whatever crumbs of mercy you throw-”

“Kauri. Stop it.” Jake’s voice snaps, and he leans in closer, and Kauri breathes in the fear that hearing an angry male voice lights in him, lets it spark his nerves with the booze and the everything else already there. “I’m not doing this because I feel sorry for anyone. Okay? Get up, we’re going home.”

“It’s. Not. My. Home.” Kauri meets Jake’s eyes this time, his own a sparkling, crackling blue flame, and Jake’s stony silent ocean, nearly gray in the darkness. “It’s not. You like this, huh? You like getting to show up and save the damsel in distress? Yeah?”

“Kauri, I would give anything to be fucking asleep right now-”

“But you didn’t. You got right up when I called, and that’s why you’re as stupid as I am. I’m brainless because they beat all my brains out of me, Jake - beat and fucked and drugged ‘em all out, left me all sweet and pretty and pointless for whoever paid the price - why are you stupid? Huh?”

Jake’s jaw works. “Kauri-”

“You’re stupid because you think I’m gonna stop being like this. You’re stupid because you think I can get better.”

“You can-”

“No, I can’t. I like me this way.” Kauri snorts, looks down his hands, but they’re shaking a little, and he doesn’t like that. He can’t feel them shaking but he can see them shaking. 

“I don’t think you do,” Jake tries, but his voice is getting ragged along the edges, and Kauri knows he’s pushing too far but he can’t stop himself now. “I think you want to get better and you just need more time.”

“Time?” Kauri laughs, and people walking by look over at them briefly, at the mess on the bench and the big tough man leaning over him. Kauri gives a little wave, I see you eavesdropping, assholes, and they hurry past. “Maybe this is fucking it, huh? What you see is all that’s left of me. What do you do then?”

Jake stares down at him. “I keep coming to pick you up anyway.”

“Oh, you’re just the best. Huh? The absolute pinnacle of fucking manhood. Jake Stanton, guardian angel and patron saint of the fucked-up messes that fall on your doorstep,” Kauri sing-songs, clapping his hands together in a mockery of prayer, eyes rolling back to the sky. “At least I’m nice to look at, huh? Got that going for me. I mean, it’s pretty much all I’ve got going for me, good fucking looks and pretty mouth and my tongue knows how to do that thing-”

“Kauri-”

“Used to be popular, in training,” Kauri says, leaning forward now, licking at his lips. Like Jake is the prey this time, like Kauri for once isn’t the one being held down but the one doing the holding. “Used to be a favorite. Only one way you get to be anyone’s favorite in training, Jake, and it’s not by being smart. Face it, Stanton, you got a hopeless case on your hands, you’re a big saintly perfect hero getting in your car after midnight to get your chaste savior rocks off with a fucking whore who won’t stop, who can’t stop, who will never get any better than this-”

“Kauri, for the love of God, stop it!” Jake’s voice raises finally, and Kauri flinches back against the bench. Adrenaline pulses all at once through his veins, heart racing, and he feels a mix of terror and a mean, cruel, small victory. 

Made him mad. I made him mad. Now he’ll be just like everyone else. Now he’ll hurt me. Now he’ll see why Owen had to.

But Jake doesn’t get closer, doesn’t shove a finger in Kauri’s face, doesn’t grab him by his shirt or his arm or his hand, doesn’t slap him doesn’t hit doesn’t scream. All he does is sigh, and look away, down the street in the direction he must have left his car. His shoulders shift. Kauri can see the anger in him, but it doesn’t rise, it isn’t wielded. It... fades, after a second, and leaves behind a weary look. An emotion Kauri can’t read. “Kauri. I’m not doing this. I’m not having this fight, not this late, not now. If you want to argue this in the morning, fine, but... god. I need to go home, okay?”

“Then go home,” Kauri says. He feels tears in his eyes, suddenly, and he can’t understand why. “Leave. No one’s stopping you.”

“You called me to come get you,” Jake says, but he knows where this is going, Kauri can see it in the way his shoulders slump, in how his hand moves into his pocket to dig his keys out. “Just come get in the car, okay? If you want to argue all the way home, it’s fine, but-”

“I already told you it’s not my fucking home. Go, Jake. I’m sorry I called. I won’t call you again.”

“Yes, you will.” Jake looks at him, an expression of almost comical confusion and hurt, and Kauri’s heart aches. “You will, right?”

But he sets his jaw. “No, I won’t. Don’t worry, I can handle myself.”

“Did you call me out here just to start a fight, Kaur?” 

Kauri doesn’t know how to answer, because he hadn’t, but now that he has started a fight he doesn’t want to admit it was an accident. He just swallows back the apology that tries to find its way out, forces it down. He sits back against the bench and shrugs, crossing his arms in front of himself. 

The silence draws out. 

As though the silence in itself said something - and maybe it did, really - Jake nods, finally, and pulls his keys out from his pocket. “Fine. I’m sorry it went this way tonight. Please... please call me.”

Kauri doesn’t answer, because if he opens his mouth, he’ll apologize for doing this, he’ll beg Jake not to hate him for it, and he can’t do that. He doesn’t know why, but there’s a rock in his mind blocking him from taking the first step to mend the break he made.

“Get some sleep, Saint Stanton. Maybe I’ll be pathetic enough to call you in the morning. We can go back to pretending you give a fuck about who I am as a person and not just as the little rescue who needs you. Make up for whatever fucked you up before that makes you want to work with us.”

That hits home. Kauri sees Jake wince, sees his hurt feelings written all over his face. Sees Jake consider arguing, give up. Sees the second Jake decides to stop trying.

That’s right. Stop trying. I’m not worth it. I don’t deserve you.

Kauri tries to feel that sense of victory from before, but all he feels now is cold - and as Jake turns and walks away, the cold slips from his heart into his fingertips, all the way down to his toes.

Cold, and alone.

“Congratulations,” He whispers to himself, watching Jake’s back as he walks away, until he turns a corner and is gone. “Good job, Kauri Grant. You got exactly what you wanted.”

Now all he wants is to take it back.

-

Tagging: @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @whumpfigure @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @boxboysandotherwhump @orchidscript @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary @wildfaewhump @whumptywhumpdump 

[5-seconds-of-bucky]

Secret

A/N: Hello, hello! Not much to say about this one other than Allison made me do it (2021 is amazing but angsty and I needed some serious fluff so I wrote it myself smh) Anyways, enjoy :)

Summery: AU in which once you meet your soulmate, you can hear them talking to themselves. You’re Shawn’s personal assistant and soulmate but you have to keep your relationship a secret, until one day . . .

Word count: 6.5k+

Warnings: Swearing, and little angst towards the end (but only a little) 

---

This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.

Nobody knew. Nobody. Not your parents, not Andrew, not even Brian knew. You never told anyone about it. But now the whole world knew about your relationship.

The whole world knew and you sure as hell were going to lose your job.

---

You wouldn’t say you knew you were soulmates right away, but it didn’t take long to figure it out. Well, it didn’t take long for Shawn to figure it out and tell you. In fact, it only took him about six hours after meeting you to realize you were the one destined for him.

He knew the moment he met you that there was something about you that was just different. Not different like “I’m not like other girls” different. Different as in someone that gave him a feeling he’d never had before.

“Shawn, this is Y/N Y/L/N, your new personal assistant. Y/N, this is Shawn.” You smiled nervously as Andrew introduced you to your new boss, giving him a small wave before realizing how unprofessional it looked.

You stuck your hand out for a handshake. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Mendes.”

“Oh, please,” he chuckled as he shook your hand. “Call me Shawn. Mr. Mendes is way too formal.”

You let out a small laugh as well, dropping his hand. There was an awkward pause that made you worry you’d already made the wrong impression. Too weak of a handshake? A wavering voice? What made this go downhill so fast?

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the restroom.” You nodded at the two men before heading over to the bathroom in the hotel lobby.

“She seemed nervous,” Shawn mentioned once you were out of earshot.

“I think she’s going to be a good fit. She’s a year younger than you and her application was great. Give her a chance. She was meeting the Shawn Mendes, her boss, after all.

Get it together, Y/N.

The words muttered in his head were in her voice, not his own. He frowned, sure that his mind was simply playing tricks on him.

Meanwhile, you were in the bathroom, cursing yourself for already making the wrong impression.

“You said ten words to the man and he probably already thinks you’re a moron,” you muttered as you paced in front of the sinks. “Take a deep breath and get back out there.”

“You okay?” Andrew asked, referring to the distant look that had overtaken Shawn’s face.

“Hmm? . . . Oh, yeah. Zoned out for a second.” Am I hearing my soulmate’s voice?

“Play nice with Y/N. I really think you’re going to like her.”

You exited the bathroom and put a pleasant look on your face as you approached the group. That was your job now: look and make everyone happy.

“Y/N, I’ll show you to your room so you can get settled,” Andrew said, gesturing for you to lead the way towards the elevator.

“Wait, Y/N.” Shawn reached out to gently grab your shoulder. “Do you wanna meet up before dinner for a smoothie or something? You know, to get to know each other?” His soft smile was something you couldn’t say no to, even if you’d only known him for three minutes.

Thirty minutes later, Shawn was knocking on your hotel door and taking you out for a smoothie shop across the street.

“What do you think you’re gonna get?” he asked once you were standing in line, taking his wallet out of his pocket.

“Trying to decide between strawberry-banana and berry blast.”

“This is the best smoothie shop around and you want strawberry-banana?”

“Or berry blast.” You’d just met him but the banter came easily. “Besides, if they’re that good at making smoothies, then the strawberry-banana will knock me off my feet with how good it is.”

“I don’t know if I can work with such a basic person as an assistant.” He playfully nudged you a step away from him.

“Oh, is this a test? Because you haven’t even seen me actually work yet.” You stepped in front of him, deciding on strawberry-banana.

“Yeah, but I could fire you for any reason at any time so really-”

“You’re not gonna fire me.” You turned around and gave him a smirk.

“But I could.” He stepped unreasonably close just as you stepped up to order. You pushed his face back with the back of your hand. He’s acting awfully friendly.

“I’ll take a strawberry-banana smoothie please,” you smiled at the cashier, pulling out some money.

“And I’ll get blueberry and avocado smoothie,” Shawn said as he pushed down your hand with the money and held out his card to the cashier. You glared at him playfully and lightly elbowed him in the stomach. “What? It’s good for your skin.”

“You guys are cute,” the cashier giggled after announcing the total and swiping Shawn’s card.

“Oh, we barely know each other.” Your words were a lost cause as Shawn dragged you aside so the next person could order.

“Shh, she doesn’t know that. Make her think there’s a world where a person with a basic smoothie order and a person with a good smoothie order can be soulmates.”

“I haven’t overheard you talking to yourself yet so I don’t think that’s possible.”

“But imagine.” He led you over to a table and plopped down on a seat. You turned around to hang your purse over the back of the chair as you sat down.

“Wait, how much do I owe you?” You pulled the purse back over the chair and dug through it to find the money you haphazardly stuck in there just a minute before.

“Nothing. It’s on me,” he said, like it was the obvious answer.

“But I feel bad making you pay for it.”

“You’re not making me pay for it, I wanted to. Consider it a ‘welcome to the team’ present.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

He liked how nervous he was making you. Whether it was because he was your boss or because he was devilishly handsome, he wasn’t entirely sure. But, he did know that you made him a little nervous too, especially since he was 95 percent sure you were his soulmate.

---

“You know what?” you said to yourself in your hotel room that night. “This is going to be really good for me. A fresh start and a chance to see the world. It doesn’t get much better than that.”

Shawn was distracted from his own thoughts once he heard your voice in his head. Shawn Mendes is my fucking boss. Not only that, but he’s an awesome dude. He smiled, not entirely sure he should be listening into this conversation. To be fair though, he couldn’t help it. Your voice was in his head.

“Damn,” he said as he put on a clean shirt for the night. “That girl was real cute.” He heard something fall in the other room followed by absolute silence, leading him to believe that you heard him. “She had a basic-ass smoothie order though.”

Was that my soulmate? He couldn’t help but laugh, trying to stay quiet as he figured out how to surprise you. Who did I meet today? You started to list the numerous people you met at dinner that night as Shawn shuffled over to the door that connected your hotel rooms.

“Hey, soulmate,” he quipped as he swung the door open. You let out a yelp, arms holding a shirt over your chest as you fell back onto the bed. “Oh, sorry!”

You threw the shirt over your head and glanced at the mirror on the wall to make sure you looked presentable. “You can come back in now,” you said once you were decent. Shawn reentered with a hand over his eyes, softly closing the door behind him. “You can look,” you giggled. “I have a shirt on now.”

Shawn put his hand down and smiled sheepishly at you. You wanted to swoon at how cute he looked with his rosy cheeks and messy curls.

“Hi.” He leaned against the wall, watching your feet get closer and closer to him until your sock clad toes were almost touching his.

“Hey.” He slowly looked up to meet your gaze. You gave him a shy smile and wave, to which he could only smile back. He’s been dreaming of the moment he met his soulmate for all these years yet he found himself at a loss of words.

“So . . . how much of that did you hear?”

“Oh, I heard the whole shabang. I’m glad you think so highly of me.” You groaned and leaned into his chest.

“You weren’t supposed to hear any of that.”

“That’s part of the whole soulmate thing. Can’t help it.”

“We’re actually soulmates?” You lifted your head so your chin was resting on his chest.

“Yeah,” He wrapped his arms around you. “I think we are.”

You brought your hands up so they were resting on his shoulders. “That moment would be a lot more romantic if I wasn’t staring up your nose.”

Shawn threw his head back, body shaking with laughter. You buried your face into his chest as you laughed along with him.

There was a comfortable pause before either of you dared to break the moment. “I’d day we should stay up all night and talk about our deepest fears and hopes for the future but we both look dead tired so we should probably call it a night.”

“Probably should. Night, Shawn.”

“Night, Y/N.” He squeezed you for a second longer before opening the door and stepping back into his room, sending you a wink before he shut it all the way.

“Shawn Mendes is my soulmate,” you whispered to yourself. “Shawn Mendes is my fucking soulmate!”

“Uh huh,” Shawn chuckled from the other room. “We’re definitely soulmates.”

---

It was a year of bliss full of sneaking kisses behind closed doors and holding hands under tables. You agreed at the start to keep your relationship a secret. With you settling into the new job and the two of you wanting to explore the relationship, it was best to keep everything under wraps. Hard as you tried, people had their suspicions for one reason or another.

It started with Andrew about a month after you realized you were soulmates. Shawn knew he could trust Andrew but he also knew that Andrew could be kind of harsh when it came to professionalism. The man didn’t expect the two of you to refer to each other strictly by last name, but he did expect that you abide by the rules and not cross the line between platonic and romantic.

So Shawn thought it would be best to find out what would happen if you were to announce that you were together. You know, in a hypothetical situation.

“Andrew, Shawn is looking for you,” you said as you peeked your head around the doorway of the green room. “He’s in his dressing room.”

Andrew’s head perked up at the calling of his name and nodded, standing up and following you to Shawn’s dressing room. You let him go in by himself, telling him that you had some other things to attend to. Once he shut the door though, you put your ear to it in hopes that you would be able to overhear what he had to say about Shawn’s “hypothetical” situation.

“Y/N said you needed me?” Andrew said once the door was closed.

“Yeah, I just had a quick question.” Shawn picked at the skin on the side of his thumb. “I just thought of this random situation and I was wondering what would happen if it actually happened.”

Andrew nodded for him to go on, still confused as to why Shawn made him come all the way down there for this.

“So say, my assistant was my soulmate. What would happen? Would they be able to keep their job or . . .?” He could see the gears turning in Andrew’s head at the mention of a soulmate and he wasn’t quite sure how he was going to answer.

“Is this about Y/N?”

“No, no. Just in some alternate universe. What would happen?”

“It depends. You obviously have a soulmate, we can’t stop that from happening, but I’d rather it not be someone you worked with,” Andrew started. “When I hire any team member, no matter what their job is, they agree that there is to be no romantic involvement with you. It keeps things professional and could prevent things from going haywire with the media. Things never look good when a star gets involved with someone on their team. I just don’t want to deal with all the bad publicity that could come out of that kind of situation. I don’t know if I would fire them but it would likely be on the table.” He leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms. “But that’s not happening with you and Y/N, right?”

Your face dropped. You were expecting that sort of answer, but it still hurt to hear.

“What? Pfft, of course not. I was just curious,” Shawn replied, walking over to the door and pushing it open. You stumbled back, suddenly realizing that you were supposed to be attending “other things.”

“That was all. Thanks, Andrew.” Andrew gave Shawn a look that said he knew something was up, but Shawn laughed it off.

Okay?” He stepped out into the hallway, bumping into you. “Oops, sorry, Y/N.”

“Haha, no problem,” you waved him off. “Shawn, they need you on stage for soundcheck.”

“Soundcheck doesn’t start for another half hour,” Andrew said.

“They wanted to start early. Something about having trouble with stuff in the past so they wanted to get a head start.”

Shawn shot you a discrete thumbs up, eyes silently thanking you for the save.

“Okay then? I’ll let you do what you need to do.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in once he turned around and started making his way back down the hallway.

“Do they actually need me?”

“No, but I needed to look like I wasn’t eavesdropping.”

Shawn looked down the hallway to make sure no one was there before pulling you into a hug behind the open door and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I love you.”

“Love you too, big guy. Can we go to stage so it doesn’t look like I was lying?” You pulled away and took hold of his hand, tugging him in the direction of the stage.

Shawn rolled his eyes. “The things I do for you.”

“Thank youuu.” He followed you down the long hallway, checking every so often to make sure no one was behind you.

“Nice shoes,” he smirked, glancing down at the tie dye Crocs you were wearing.

“My heel broke and I didn’t have another pair of shoes on me.”

“But you had rainbow Crocs?”

“It’s fashion and comfort all in one shoe. You expect me to carry another pair of heels around when I could be wearing these bad boys?”

“I mean, they go wonderfully with the blouse and slacks. I kinda want a pair now.”

“Guess I know what to get you for Christmas.”

The sound of footsteps coming towards you stopped your conversation. You ripped your hand out of Shawn’s and he found himself missing the warmth of it.

“Hey, just talked to stage crew,” Andrew said once he popped around the corner you were just about to turn. “They’re not starting yet. They’re actually on track to be starting late. Don’t know who told you they needed him.”

“That’s weird,” you said, attempting to subtly put some more space between Shawn and yourself. “Guess we have some time. You guys need me to get anything for you?” The men both shook their heads no.

“Nice shoes, by the way.” He was gone as quickly as he appeared.

You looked over to see Shawn doubled over, body shaking with laughter. “Shut up, he almost caught us.”

“Yeah, but he saw the shoes!”

“How did the universe put us together?”

“Oh stop.” He wrapped you in his arms once again. “You know you love me.”

---

Brian was the next to get curious about your relationship.

A knock on the door that connected you and Shawn’s hotel room made Shawn look up from his phone for the first time in a while. He was met with your sheepish smile and what he now affectionately called the “Y/N wants something wave.”  

He narrowed his eyes at you. “What do you want?”

“Can I borrow one of your shirts? All of mine are dirty.”

“You have like 1,000 shirts.”

“Well 995 of them are dressy shirts for my job and I’m out of comfy shirts to sleep in. Would you be willing to sacrifice one of yours so I may bask in its comfort?”

“I guess so,” he sighed, leaning over the side of his bed to grab a shirt.

“Thank you.” You smiled wider as he came towards you and threw the shirt over your face. “Ooh, it smells like you.”

“That could be because I wear it a lot.”

“Is it your favorite shirt?”

“Maybe.”

“Ooh, I feel special.”

“Go put a shirt on, weirdo.”

You disappeared behind the door for a second and slipped the shirt on. You stepped back into Shawn’s room without a second thought and suddenly, Shawn couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

The silence and his stare made you feel self conscious for a moment. Does he not want me to wear it?

“I actually have a clean shirt if you don’t want me to wear-”

“No, keep it on. It looks good on you.” Two months into your secret relationship and he was head over heels in love with you.

“Thanks . . .” Completely uncharted territory. Neither of you had any idea what to do from here.

“Do you wanna, uh, sleep here tonight?” He scratched the back of his neck.

“Yeah . . . I’d like that.”

He held his arm out for you to enter and closed the door behind you.

“I, uh, need to use the bathroom real quick.”

You stepped into the bathroom and braced yourself on the counter. “It’s no big deal, Y/N. He’s your soulmate. No need to get nervous.”

Shawn melted as the words played in his head. Now go out there and be the best damn soulmate there is.

You emerged from the bathroom like nothing happened, leaning on the doorway with your arms crossed. “Sup?”

“You didn’t flush the toilet.”

“Oh please, we both know I wasn’t actually going to the bathroom.”

Shawn held his hands up in defense, extending them out as you shuffled over to the bed and flopped down on it.

“I’m going to steal this shirt, by the way,” you said matter of factly.

“You should. It looks good on you.” He tugged you onto his chest so your head was laying over his heart.

“You’re gonna let me steal your favorite shirt, just like that?” You flipped over so your chin was resting on his shoulder. He nodded. “Damn, that was easy. You really do love me.”

You spent the next hour and a half talking about the random thoughts that crossed your mind. Minute by minute, your eyes got droopier and droopier, until you were fast asleep on top of Shawn. It was everything he wanted in life, right there in his arms.

He was almost asleep himself when there was a sharp knock on the door. He got up, careful not to move you too much and wake you up before opening the door.

“Hey, can I borrow some toothpaste?” a tired looking Brian asked, a yawn escaping his mouth in the fluorescent hotel hallway.

“Uh, yeah.” Shawn let Brian step inside, completely forgetting in his sleepy state that you were laying on the bed. He came out of the bathroom a second later to hand the toothpaste to Brian, who seemed completely shocked out of the daze he was in earlier. “What?”

“Is that Y/N?”

“Oh, yeah, she had a rough day so she came over here to vent. Ended up falling asleep before she went back to her own room.” He was getting better at coming up with these coverups.

“Really? She seemed like she was having a great day when I saw her earlier. I think the tie dye Crocs put her in a good mood.”

“I don’t know,” Shawn shrugged. “Maybe something went wrong after you saw her?”

“Maybe,” Brian nodded slowly, already putting the pieces together. “She’s not your soulmate, is she?”

“No, of course not. Just good friends.” The response came quick. Almost too quick.

“Okay, sure.” Brian took the toothpaste from Shawn with a skeptical look. “Thanks. I’ll give it back tomorrow morning.”

Shawn gave him a thumbs up and closed the door. He looked back to your sleeping form and couldn’t help but grin. He loved everything about you. How bad would it actually be if someone found out about you?

---

“Wanna ditch and get milkshakes?” You were standing in the corner of some celebrity’s mansion when Shawn asked the question. The Grammys afterparty wasn’t all that appealing to you, but it was part of the job and Shawn wanted you to go as his plus one since you were, as he claimed, his “best friend in the whole entire universe.”

“Hell yeah.” You pushed yourself off the wall, brushing off the back of your dress. “Where’re we going?”

“I dunno. What’s open this late?” He reached out to grab your hand, which you almost took before realizing where you were. His face dropped the slightest bit, wanting nothing more than to hold your hand and let the whole world know that he’d found his soulmate.

“I’m sure there’s something close by.” You nodded for him to follow you. “Wait, I have to ‘convince’ you to stay so I can say I tried to keep you here and Andrew doesn’t get mad at me.”

Shawn crossed his arms and nodded. “Can we ditch and get milkshakes?”

“No, we have to stay so you don’t seem rude.”

“But this party's boring and we could have a lot more fun somewhere else.”

“Shawn.”

“I could fire you . . .”

“Nice,” you said, grabbing his wrist and making your way through the crowd.

The cool air of the night was a relief from how hot it was inside but you found yourself pressing yourself into Shawn’s side anyways. He threw his arm over your shoulder as the two of you made your way to the edge of the driveway. The noise from the party faded into the background and neither of you said anything, enjoying one of the rare quiet moments you got together.

“Where to, m’lady?”

“You’re the one who wanted to leave.”

“Don’t act like you wanted to be there,” he teased, pulling away to grab your hand and twirl you under his arm.

“Well, I’m indecisive so you have the honors of picking the place.”

“I guess let’s go into the city and go to the first place that’s open.”

“Sounds good to me.” Your smile could light up the streets better than the streetlamps and he never wanted to see it go away.

“Take this, by the way.” Shawn shook his suit jacket off and put it over your shoulders. The red cloth was a little too big but he thought you looked stunning nonetheless.

“I’m not cold though.” You pulled your arms through the sleeves anyways.

“Let me do the boyfriend thing,” he pleaded as he rolled his shirt sleeves up.

“Fine. Only because you look really hot with your shirt sleeves rolled up.”

He smirked, making a mental note for the future.

You walked for a while before you stumbled across a McDonald’s, mumbling a might as well before opening the door for Shawn.

“Hey, I’m supposed to do that.”

“Oh, please. Let me be nice.”

The restaurant was empty, the only other person in there being the cashier who sleepily appeared from the kitchen as you looked at the menu. Shawn stepped up and ordered a milkshake before you stepped up and ordered a shake and fries. You whipped out your card and paid for it before Shawn could, to which he playfully glared at you.

“You pay for stuff all the time. Let me pay seven dollars this one time.”

He huffed, letting you know that you’d won. You smiled triumphantly as you sat down at a table and patted the space across from you. Shawn sat down and propped his elbow on the table to rest his head on his hand.  

“Why are you so pretty?” you mumbled as you admired him. Seven billion people in the world and you somehow were lucky enough to have Shawn Mendes as your soulmate. Who would’ve thought?

“Why are you so pretty?” He reached across the table to grab your hand.

“I asked first.” You intertwined your fingers with his.

Your order number was called before he could respond, causing him to let go of your hand and go up to the counter. He grabbed the food and turned around to catch you checking him out. “What’re you looking at?”

“I can’t help it! Do you have any idea how hot it is when you roll the sleeves of a button up all the way up to your elbows?”

He laughed as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Would’ve done this a lot more often if I knew how much you liked it,” he said as he popped a fry into his mouth.

“Well, it’s super hot so please do it more often.” You took a sip of your milkshake. “And be more careful. Someone might see us.,” you said, referring to the act of affection he did moments before.

“We’re fine. The poor kid’s so tired they’re falling asleep back there.”

“Still. We’re in public and I really don’t want to lose my job.”

“Andrew won’t fire you. He just wants to scare us,” Shawn insisted, reaching over to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “Besides, if word does get out we can finally move forward with our lives. Get married? Really start our future together?” It had only been eight months but Shawn knew without a single doubt that he wanted to be with you. (The soulmate part helped a little bit too.)

“You really want to do that?”

“You’re my soulmate and the most amazing person I’ve ever met. Of course I want to get married! That is, as long as you want to.”

“I’d like that.”

The sound of your phone ringing ruined the moment, and you quickly fumbled to get it out of your pocket.

“Andrew, hey,” you said, watching Shawn’s face change from lovey-dovey to concerned and a little scared.

“Where are you guys?” Andrew’s voice came through the phone, slightly drowned out by the loud music playing in the background.

“I . . . uh . . .”

“It sounds really quiet over there. Did you guys sneak back to the hotel?” You cringed at what sounded like a disappointed tone as you tried to come up with an answer that wouldn’t get you fired.

“Shawn wanted milkshakes so we’re at McDonalds,” you finally admitted.

“Dude!” Shawn whisper yelled.

“I tried to make him stay but he was insistent!”

“Can you put Shawn on the phone?”

“Sure,” you said, passing the phone to Shawn.

“Andrew, hi,” Shawn said in a voice that did not at all match the look on his face. You couldn’t hear what Andrew was saying but based on the intermittent “I know” and “yeah” you assumed he was getting lectured about ditching the party.

“We will. See you there.” He hung up with a sigh. “Our romantic time at McDonald’s is going to have to come to an end, my dear.”

“What’d he say?” You took your phone from his hand and stood up.

“Come back to the hotel or you’re gonna get it.” He took his milkshake in one hand and your hand in the other, letting you take the last few fries and throw out the cardboard.

“You’re going to get me fired one of these days.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It is a bad thing! I like my job, thank you very much.”

“I kid, I kid.”

His smile was all you needed in life. Job or not, you would always have Shawn, right?

---

“Here’s your boarding pass,” you said through a yawn, handing Shawn the slip of paper as you walked into the airport.

The pass you handed him had your name printed on it and he laughed to himself. He took the pass you had in your hand and switched it with the one he gave you.

“What’re you-”

“You gave me your pass.” He placed his hand on your lower back, subtly trying to speed you up so you could catch up to the rest of the group.

“Oh, sorry,” you muttered softly. “I’ve gotten three hours of sleep in the past two days. I’m so ready to get on the plane and take a freaking nap.”

“We gotta get on the plane first, sleepyhead.” You were dressed in leggings, an oversized t-shirt, and your tie dye Crocs. It was one of the few times he ever saw you dressed down on the job and he was loving it.

“Watch your hand, there’s people all around.”

“It’s really hard to take you seriously when you look like you’re about to pass out in my arms.”

“Shawn!”

“I’m helping out my tired best friend. Besides, it’s four in the morning, nobody’s around.” He didn’t move his arm, even as you got closer to the group. It was like he wanted to get caught. “And, if you really wanted me to move, you would’ve shaken my arm off by now.”

He knew you too well.

He kept his arm there as you checked your luggage and went through security, only letting go when absolutely necessary. It earned some strange looks from a couple team members but you were too tired to care. All you wanted to do was take a year long nap.

You ended sitting in the terminal with half the team while the other half went to get coffee. Shawn sat next to you, occasionally glancing around to see if he could steal a kiss from you when no one was looking.

It was another 30 minutes until you were supposed to board but you weren’t sure you would be able to keep your eyes open for much longer. Shawn noticed your bobbing head and drooping eyes and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pushing your head so it was resting on his shoulder.

“I’ll wake you up when it’s time to board.”

“Thanks, babe,” you whispered, pressing a subtle kiss to his shoulder as your eyes fluttered closed.

“What are you guys gonna do when you find your real soulmates?” Brian asked casually, not even looking up from his phone. Shawn’s head snapped up at the mention of “soulmates” and Brian snickered. “You two act like you’re soulmates all the freaking time. What’s gonna happen when you find the actual one for you?”

“What if we are soulmates and we just didn’t tell anyone?” It was a stupid answer but he wasn’t sure what else to say. Was he really about to expose your relationship after keeping it a secret for all this time?

“You wouldn’t be able to keep that from me.” While Brian wasn’t entirely convinced his two friends weren’t soulmates, he didn’t have the proof to say definitively that they were.

“Fair enough.”

The conversation stopped there but Shawn couldn’t stop thinking about it. Eleven months together and you somehow managed to keep it a secret from everyone. It meant that you couldn’t progress your relationship as far as you wanted to though. Was it even worth it to keep it a secret anymore?

Your boarding group was called before he could dwell on it too long and Shawn was forced to wake you up. As much as he wanted to keep you asleep, he knew there was no getting you on the plane otherwise.

“Wake up, pretty girl,” he muttered as he pressed his face to the top of your head and rubbed his hand up and down your arm. You sighed and snuggled deeper into him, craving his warmth. “You can go back to sleep soon but we gotta get on the plane.”

You lifted your head slowly, blinking at the bright lights of the terminal. Shawn helped you stand up and grabbed your carry on and helped you stand up.

“I’m supposed to take your stuff. That’s my actual job,” you said, reaching for your backpack that he was holding.

“You’re tired, honey. Let me carry your bag.”

You complied, too tired and wanting nothing more than to knock out for the five hour flight. You put your head back on Shawn’s shoulder the second he sat down next to you on the plane, out cold for the entire ride.

---

Shawn Mendes Found His Soulmate? Everything You Need to Know About the New Couple.

What You Need to Know About Shawn Mendes’ Post Last Night.

Shawn Mendes Gets Cozy With His PA in Recent Instagram Post.

The headlines seemed to be never ending as they appeared on your phone. You could hear Shawn pacing in the other room and trying to explain to Andew what was happening. It was inevitable, you knew. But did it have to happen like this?

“Andrew, I don’t know what to tell you. It was an accident!” Shawn insisted, running a hand through his hair for the millionth time since the call started.

“Do you have any idea how bad this is, Shawn?” Andrew sighed on the other side of the line. “This is exactly what I told you was going to happen!”

Texts were blowing up your phone like crazy. All your friends were wondering since when Shawn Mendes was your soulmate and why you didn’t tell them earlier. That didn’t matter so much through as you realized that you were about to lose your job, and possibly Shawn.

“We’re soulmates, Andrew! What were we supposed to do? You said that she’d be fired if she was my soulmate. Y/N loves this job and she’s amazing at it. I didn’t want to lose her!”

You felt like you were going to throw up.

From what you could hear, the rest of the conversation didn’t go too well. Shawn sounded frustrated beyond belief as he tried to save your job and relationship, leaving you wondering if you would have either of those after today. You were so lost in thought that you didn’t hear him enter the living room and sit down next to you.

“Andrew wants to have a meeting in an hour,” he sighed. You bit your lip, trying to hold back tears as you stared at the ground.

“I’m getting fired, aren’t I?” you asked.

“I have no idea, honestly. I’m not sure how much authority I have over that.” He put his head in his hands. The uncertainty of the future was killing both of you.

“Should we just break up?”

Your voice was so quiet but Shawn heard the words loud and clear.

“What!?”

“We’re obviously going to get in a ton of trouble for this. What if Andrew says we have to end it? If this ends, I want it to be on my terms, not someone else’s.”

“Y/N, he can’t make us break up.”

“But what if this destroys your career? I wouldn’t be able to live with the fact that I was the reason you had to stop doing what you loved.”

“Y/N, you’re spiraling. There is nothing, and I mean nothing, that I love more than you.”

“I just want you to be happy.” A single tear slipped down your face and Shawn wished he wasn’t the reason for it.

“You make me happy.”

You stared at each other for a moment before you threw yourself into his arms, latching on tight as sobs rang through your body. Shawn tucked his head into your neck, holding you tight and letting a few tears soak into your shirt.

“No matter what happens,” He pulled back to look directly into your eyes. “I will always love you. Nobody can make us end our relationship, okay? I don’t care if it ends my career, I will never want anything more than you.”

You nodded, not sure what else to say.

“Now, lets get yelled at by Andrew and tell him that this isn’t going to end.”

---

“Alright, let’s talk about this.” Andrew sat down across from you and Shawn, sounding calmer than he did an hour ago over the phone.

“Before you say anything, we’re not breaking up. I just wanna make that clear.” Shawn said, his thumb caressing your hand under the table.

“I’m not gonna make you break up. I just want to know why you didn’t tell me earlier.” His voice sounded strained, like he couldn’t believe that you would hide something like this from him for so long. “We could’ve prevented this whole squabble if you just told me earlier.”

“I didn’t want to lose my job,” you said. “I agreed that I wouldn’t be romantically involved with Shawn when you hired me and I broke that agreement on the first day.”

“The first day?” Andrew leaned forward in his seat.

“Yeah, we uh . . . we found out that night.”

“If I’m being honest, I’ve pretty much known for a while,” Andrew confessed. “I was waiting for one of you to tell me though. I didn’t want to pressure you.”

“But you said she could get fired-”

“I said that firing her could possibly be on the table, depending on the situation. Y/N’s a great team member and I know your relationship isn’t going to get in the way of her doing her job. I figured that if you were trying to keep it a secret for so long, you didn’t want anyone to know.”

“You knew the whole time?” Shawn leaned back in his chair, feeling a lot more relaxed now that he knew your job was safe.

“You guys were subtle but you weren’t that subtle. I pieced it together pretty quickly.”

“So I’m not getting fired?”

“No, I’m not going to fire you.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. Everything was a-okay. “Thank you, Andrew. Really, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“No need to thank me. Your work speaks for itself.” Andrew smiled and for the first time in a long time, you felt at ease. You didn’t have to hide anything anymore. “However, we do have to deal with this situation you two have created.”

---

“Ready?” Shawn asked, his thumb hovering over the “post” button.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you smiled. A year of hiding your relationship from everyone you knew and you were finally going to share it with the world.

“Let’s do this.” He pressed the button and just like that, the picture was up.

shawnmendes "You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams." -Dr. Seuss

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