#placing our faith and love on celebrities is what fucked us all

[miseryenglishrose]

Sorry but all this disappointment is a bit overwhelming. The show isn't that bad. I've watched the episodes 1 to 3 and they are fucking good. Awesome even. I ship caryl with all my heart and still consider tboc 40x times better than twd. Guys Carol has scenes, dialogue, she interacts with actual people and her story progresses! She deals with her trauma. Carol, our Carol.

Yes the two storylines feel a bit disjointed but for me that makes sense, they are not in the same place, so how can the storylines be the same? I haven't seen the kiss scene but I also kinda get it?! You know how when you are stuck on an island with just one person, you get feelings for that person?

Sometimes people get lonely, sometimes people need something/ someone to hold on to, to keep fighting for. That doesn't make them bad people, or cheaters, or whatever, that makes them human. I've been away from home, completely alone, for one month and let me tell you I need human contact more than anything. I need to feel real, I need to feel I exist.

Now, I haven't seen the last 3 episodes but what I've seen I've loved. Carol is badass, finally we have a bit of a backstory on the "baddies" and I enjoy the fact that faith has become this blind weapon (that it actually is). The show has deep meanings, and beautiful connotations and my favourite character is thriving.

And if I may say so the stories are not disjointed. Both Carol and Daryl fight to become better people. They start on this quest trying to find themselves. Yes, they fail. Yes they lie and kill but progress isn't linear and what is clear is that both of them now see their mistakes, see where the violence has led them and try hard to fix it. They are remorseful while still being leaders who are forced to make all the right choices. Manipulation is as easy for Carol, as killing is for Daryl and they are both trying to come to terms with the darkest parts of themselves.

I don't understand all the disappointment, but what really makes me sad is that I go into this tag happy and leave sad. I hate for other fans who haven't seen the episodes to be put off by this and not watch them. This season is art; beautiful scenery, photography, script. The actors play masterfully, all of them. The directors are great. I love our ship, but I can recognize good quality when I see it, I can recognize love and effort being out in the craft. And tboc has all of this and so much more.

So watch it. Don't listen to anyone, and just watch it; with an open mind and a glass of wine to celebrate our Carol being back with us.

[cee-jay-mcwfc]

Don’t know what gaz told Viv but that work rate and passion shows how that she’s bought in to the team vision and the team overall. Once she gets more refined and rebuilds more, she’ll be converting more of those misses. Her partnership with bunny is building nicely too. That sequence from Kerstin to her to Jess right before Naomi’s goal was beautiful.

On Bunny, the amount of defensive work she put in. Her dominance in the air and ofc the work rate, golden. And got her deserved goal. Always belonged on the champions league stage.

Love Mary. Was pretty sad for how her Olympics went, but she’s clearly patient when not playing and just dazzled tonight.

Naomi. I find defensive players take a lot more time to really improve and rise to higher expectations. The gulf between that pre-season cameo and tonight could be the work of an entire season. I hope she’s alright and I’m glad Weigman got to see that.

Laia ALEIXANDRI. No words. So glad it was just a dead leg. She was in all that pain and barely wanted to come off still. Immense!!! Everywhere. Perfection.

Alex Greenwood is the epitome of leadership, and this is how you make a statement after four long years of being out.

This entire team moved me. They flung every muscle in their body on the line for this performance. The medical staff that got them healthy moved me as well.

She celebrated to!! Such a rare thing but she actually celebrate. I think she’s really put her faith in us and she believes in what we’re doing and that is translating on the pitch. The next goal is coming, she is patient and it will come, she’s got the first one out the way so the pressure is off and when it happens, we’ll all be celebrating. I really enjoyed her performance last night, best she’s played yet and hopefully she can build on that relationship with Bunny and feed off each other. I just checked, I’ve got that sequence on video and just watched it back and you’re right, is lovely!!

Her and Hempo’s defensive work last night, oh my god, outstanding. Using Bunny’s height to keep all those crosses out the box, superb. So so pleased for her to get the goal and A BADGE TAP!! I was shaking so much!! There’s no one like Bunny in Liga F with the combined pace and physicality and they couldn’t deal with her

Feel like Mary has struggled recently both back end of last season and the start of this but really pleased with her performance

I will admit I had my doubts when I saw she was starting in place of Leila, not just because Leila is a favourite but because she knows that Barca team inside out. However Naomi did a wonderful wonderful job, especially at defending Alexia in the first half and of course the goal! I was so so happy for her. She’s come on leaps and between the second leg of the Paris game and Brighton and then again between then and last night. I’m hoping her injury isn’t too bad and she perhaps gets a call up this time!!

Laia. OUSTANDING, AMAZING, SPECTACULAR. All those blocks, the goal line clearance, everything. She is fucking amazing and I’m so so glad it didn’t seem to be anything too bad

Our captain

Amazing performance from everyone. No bad words to say about anyone from last night. Just what a shift all round, from the players and the staff, everyone. My club 🩵

[spot-the-antisemitism]

Hi! I have a question and it's in good faith unlike well antisemites who pick fights with you.

How should we deal with anti Zionism?

I think it's dumb to say anti Zionism is INHERENTLY antisemitic because there are Jews who fall in this category or call themselves anti Zionist for reasons like: I oppose how Israel oppresses Palestinians and I am critical of Zionism as I am critical of other things. Just as Zionism means different things to different people, the same applies here. Just as we should never demonize Zionism because of the existence of right wing Zionism, I don't believe we should do this to anti Zionism either.

However I am very conflicted because the history of anti Zionism has always been deeply antisemitic. The anti Zionism we are seeing right now that's trending is Soviet anti Zionism which is 100% antisemitic and I would say inherently antisemitic. I would also say my concerns lie within the anti Zionism movement rather than individual anti Zionism (if that makes sense..) but that would be a lie because unfortunately anti Zionist Jews embrace and support antisemitism in all flavors and shades. I have seen anti Zionist Jews say something like "hey don't be antisemitic" and get dog piled and called Zionist (in this case obv a slur) for mentioning antisemitism because the current anti Zionism "movement" requires that everyone never mention antisemitism for reasons like 1) it doesn't exist or 2) antisemitism was weaponized by Israel therefore it will never matter again. These anti Zionist Jews are either blacklisted from this movement or forced to apologize and beg for forgiveness and ass kiss until they are forgiven.

I have seen anti Zionist Jews (many, both offline and online) constantly downplay antisemitism and compare antisemitism to Palestinian oppression to tell their fellow Jews "hey antisemitism isn't as bad as what Palestinians are experiencing" which is 1) fucked up and cruel and also 2) something they'd never do to other groups specifically groups they see as "most oppressed" (which makes sense because now they're telling Jews a few hostages vs so many more Palestinians means nothing). Anti Zionist Jews act a lot like JVP where 1) antisemitism isn't as bad as racism and homophobia and other forms of oppression 2) it only exists in the West 3) it's a white people thing so not important and much more.

In short anti Zionist Jews are willingly used as tokens to further spread antisemitism, they disrespect and mock antisemitism and treat it very disgustingly, a vast majority refuse to acknowledge antisemitism within anti Zionism and when the few does that small minority still downplays it, they disrespect the Holocaust, they disrespect Judaism and believe that all Jews have blood on our hands (blood libel!) so we must rewrite our entire religion and culture to place Palestinians at the core as repentance and we must never speak Hebrew the colonizer language only Arabic and English! and so much more.

I guess all of this is a result of everyone especially anti Zionist Jews believing that solidarity with Palestinians requires Jew hatred and Jews must punish themselves for being Jewish to show they are with the Palestinians. Perfect outlet for someone who already hates themselves to project.

Anyways all of this to say, anti Zionism and many anti Zionist Jews are deeply antisemitic despite my belief that it can be something good and it is unfair to write it off as antisemitic completely. I have met normal anti Zionist Jews. The issue is what the movement requires these Jews to think and believe and do. You must love Hamas. You must celebrate Israeli pain and deaths. You must dehumanize Israelis and hate them more than anything in the world. You must turn your head to your people being generalized and killed and oppressed because well bad people who happen to be Jewish are oppressing Palestine which means none of that matters anymore. In fact you must celebrate it. Unless it's not about Palestine don't care. This is the reality now though many deny it.

So what do we do? How do we deal with this? I hate feeling uncomfortable around anti Zionist Jews despite being critical of Israel and Zionism myself. However every time I give the benefit of the doubt they always disappoint because of the guilt and self hatred they harbor. Is it wrong to feel like anti Zionism attracts and preys on the self hating Jews who should know better but don't? As I said before anti Zionism requires them to hate Jews and hate themselves and they fall for it because most are leftist trying to be against oppression (that need to do good is then weaponized to lure them in). Zionist Jews in my experience are the Jews who are confident in who they are and proud. Idk. I'm just confused and lost but I don't want give up on anti Zionist Jews. I want to figure out how to get them to not hate Jews and fall for antisemitism disguised as "criticism". It shouldn't be THIS hard to support Palestinians without being antisemitic. Even these anti Zionist Jews fall for lies like the classic barib yariel because the anti Zionism movement literally believes that you should never fact check or double check a "genocide" so anti Zionist Jews don't even know what's really going on because lies about Israel are much more convenient to paint it as inherently evil rather than the truth.

Please help.

Dear anon,

your overcomplicating this

Is the antizionist a gentile?

shun them they're culturally appopriatiing a Jewish only term to hate Jews end of discussion

Are you gentile that's pro-palestinean rights and liberation? then you're pro-palestine you're not anti-Israel or antizionist.

Is the antizionist a Jew?

then it's complex

Are they tokenizing and self hating and saying they're the only good Jew?

Talk to them and if they throw you to the leopards pity and shun them

Are they uplifting other Jews and calling out antisemitism?

Reblog them, this is your new friend.

Non Zionism exists and it's not the both side ism that pro-pals make it out to be.

"Just as we should never demonize Zionism because of the existence of right wing Zionism, I don't believe we should do this to anti Zionism either."

^ This right here

"I hate feeling uncomfortable around anti Zionist Jews despite being critical of Israel and Zionism myself."

You have every right to hate tokens and leopard voters

Yes they're fellow Jews but they are trying to get you killed to save their skin

Leave them behind, they abandoned you first,

Cecil

[broodsys]

been a long time since I've felt like I HAD to write something, but I rly connected with Nessa's playthrough and I'm still kinda reeling even tho I knew what was coming. so, there's this, taking place immediately after the end of the main game. hopefully the formatting isn't fucked bc I'm on my phone and not using the app, but we'll see

They had won. It seemed an impossibility, yet here they were, celebration reaching all corners of Skyhold. She was happy, thrilled even, that Corypheus was gone, that the sky was mended, that she and her friends were no longer at risk.

The impromptu party Josephine had thrown was great fun.

Still, she felt hollow. He should be here.

When she slept that night, she expected to find him in the Fade. He had promised that all would be made clear. Instead, she fought Corypheus again. Instead, he left her again. Instead, she saw herself without her Vallaslin. Despite everything, she was relieved when she woke and saw the familiar markings on her face.

She knew she needed to remain strong, to not let her people see how torn she was, but it was hard. She kept remembering holding his hand, the simple joy she'd felt, the sense that he was finally acknowledging their relationship in truth. Instead, it had been the start of the end. A thin comfort before the storm.

Things had faded since that conversation, as though she was observing her life at a remove. She tried to hide it. She thought she had managed.

"Inquisitor, a word?" She was on the battlements, looking at the mountains, distracted enough that she hadn't heard Leliana approach.

"Of course. What is it?"

"I do not mean to be untoward, but…" She was confused as Leliana approached her, stunned as the other woman's arms wrapped around her. "Those who care about you can see your suffering. I am so sorry, my lady."

Nessa hesitated, momentarily uncertain, before returning the embrace. No one touched her casually - first, she had been seen as a criminal; next, touched by Andraste. Finally, she had become the Inquisitor. People don't just hug the leader of the Inquisition.

She hadn't realized how much she'd missed it until she realized she was crying, uncertain how much was despair and how much was relief. Leliana still did not pull away.

"I loved him. I- I don't know why he left." The words were pressed against Leliana's shoulder, thin and private, still catching in her throat. The tears were hot on her face.

"Nor I. I wish I could have found him for you."

"He does not wish it." These words were even smaller, as though to say it risked making it real. But she knew it was real. It was all real - the love and the pain. The hollow he'd left behind. Finally she pulled away, wiping her face, certain she looked a mess. "I am sorry, I didn't mean to…" She gestured weakly at her face, her tears. Leliana's smile was soft, warm. So genuine it took Nessa by surprise.

"Think nothing of it, my lady. My friend. You may lead the armies of the faithful, you may have sealed the Breach, but you are still a person. Those who care about you have not forgotten this."

Gratitude swelled in her as she turned back to the mountains, letting the cold breeze hit her tears and chill her. A sensation stronger than her grief, at least for the moment. "We walked together, the night before we faced Corypheus. I haven't told anyone…" Leliana came to stand by her side, also looking out at the mountains. Trying to make this moment easier for Nessa, she knew. "He told me about the Vallaslin, our markings. Corypheus spoke of it, too." She took a deep breath - this pained her as much as his flight. "They are the marks of a slave." Leliana, so often calm and in control, gasped and turned to stare at her. Nessa continued to look out. She needed to say it. "Long ago, owners used the Vallaslin to mark their slaves. They do represent our Gods, but… they are not as the Dalish thought."

"That's… that's horrible, I had no idea. Solas told you this?" Nessa nodded, new tears hot in her eyes but cold as they slipped down her cheeks.

"He offered to remove mine. But, I couldn't… no matter what they were, what they meant, they have meaning to my People now. It was an honor to receive my Vallaslin. He accepted my answer, he seemed to respect it, but…" Leliana put a gentle hand on her shoulder, a small touch that grounded her, helped her finish the thought that she hadn't dared articulate even to herself. "... what if it is why he left? What if he couldn't stand knowing I kept myself marked as a slave? What if he couldn't understand that it meant something to me as a Dalish, regardless of what it had meant in Arlathan?"

"My lady… I cannot speak for him, he always has been a mystery, but one thing I will say: he has never seemed to say something he does not mean. I do not think his acceptance of your decision a lie, although I can no more explain his flight than can you." It was a comfort to hear, because the words rang true. He was not one to lie - to avoid answering questions, certainly, but not to make his answers explicit lies. It helped, a little, to be reminded of this.

"I know he wanted the orb preserved. I saw that he mourned its destruction. But he left me before the fight, before it had been broken… I know it hurt him, that much was obvious." She shook her head, armor jangling slightly. She used to wear leathers. After their conversation she had switched to scalemail. She was still getting used to the sound, the weight of it, but the difference helped keep her in the moment. "He said all would be clear after the battle. Perhaps, at the time, he meant it. But nothing is clear." She finally turned to look at Leliana. The other woman had changed so much… when they'd first met, Nessa had been more than a little afraid of her. More afraid of her than of Cassandra, even. The longer they'd worked together the more she'd grown to trust her, although Leliana's willingness to go so far still scared her somewhat. But now the other woman had… softened. She'd found herself again. She still did what was needed, but no longer sought violence as a means in and of itself. "Except that I belong here, with all of you. Thank you for coming here, for listening. It means… more than I can say." Leliana's smile was so warm.

"You did the same for me, my friend." So simple, but the second time she'd called Nessa friend. A warm sentiment, a balm on the raw edges of her pain and grief. Leliana left her to her solitude, but she felt lighter. Her grief would keep, she knew, but she still had her Clan, still had her Vallaslin, and she still had her… family, here. She would live despite her grief. She would live. And in time, she would thrive.

For now, she left the mountains to their solitude and went back to the main hall. She no longer wanted to be alone.

[forbiddcnsirvn]

DEVILSERPENT: Today, we celebrated another year of our marriage. How impressive is that? Another whole year was spent with you and our children. You are the reason why I'm still here today; because you were fucking strong enough to get us here, Cy, to rebuild our lives with each and every new experience. But most importantly, you inspired me to do so much more than just survive, or be someone else’s puppet. You inspired me to fight for what I believed in. To get through the shittiest hell possible, laden with blood and filth and lies and all the things that a normal pair, I believe, don’t always have to go through, but if anything it only makes me think of how special our bond is. How I could never see myself with anyone but the same person who has gone through thick and thin with me. 

When it came to raising our children, we knew that by having each other around, they wouldn't feel the weight of being alone. Your courage for our kids is something I'll never stop being grateful for. They adore you and I love you more than anything in life. This is why your hard work pays off, we both get to spend time with one another and make sure they're happy and content. With every second that goes by, I realize how much more precious this really is. I strive for better every day as if it were my last, it's a promise I made to myself when we were together and nothing else mattered but us. As long as we have one another, nothing else can matter-after all, looking back doesn't do any good if you don't enjoy what's in front of you at the moment. You always knew how to make me believe in us againm\ even when we were fighting against an unbeatable foe. And now, we're getting better at believing back in each other.

We were such a mess before we got married, and we still are. And I’ve never been more thankful for that. I don't think sunshine and rainbows are made for people like us, but that's just how I like it, every bloodshed, every stupid fight that we had, it only makes me think of how passionate we are for each other. How we would rather die than live without knowing that you are there for us no matter what. That if I have to, I'd be willing to give up everything to come home to you and see the smile on your face, that little dopey grin that you have when you open your eyes, even when you have to deal with your sickness. We don't need anything more, you know? Not even a perfect wedding ring, or a million dollars in cash. All we want right now is to find out how to keep living. That's where my hope lies, my faith, where my future belongs. In you. And my children, of course. I'm happy, Cyrek, I want you to know that despite my many flaws, my fears, and my doubts, I am happier than ever before. And I couldn't have it any other way. I wouldn't trade what I have with you for anything else in this world. You're everything I've ever wanted; everything I've ever dreamed about. And now I have it with you all to myself. Forever. 

I love you, and nothing in this world will change that. And I know for a fact you love me too. There's no one else I would rather marry, there's no place that I would rather be with you, there's no one else I would rather grow old with. Everything's alright, Cy. Even we get stuck in bed forever. It doesn't matter, as long as you're here with me. The rest of my days, my life, are yours to thread along with.

@nxnbinarydracvla

[pleasestopdeletingmyaccount]

Yeah I see both of your points

But

Have you considered

✨Delulu✨

Sorry being ✨delusional✨ is my coping mechanism

What ? You see proof that points to Buddie not becoming canon?

No you don't ✨

On a separate note, I honestly think this is just a preference in methodology of media consumption.

Buddie fans have been waiting for close to 6 years for this ship, and sadly, truthfully, as a Buddie fan, most of the canon fuel burned out after season 4, and from there it's less canonical materials and more, this is how we've chose to consume this content so this is how we'll interpret the material.

There's a time and place for serious TV analysis and metas, holding shows accountable for stringing viewers along, being lazy and repetitive with storylines and character arcs. And Buddie fans do make these, they're fans of Buck and Eddie, sure, but they're a fan of the show first and foremost.

We love this show, with all our hearts, it means something to us, it makes us go crazy but we love it anyway. That's why we want it to do well too, we want the character arcs and storylines to progress in a logical sense, to tie neatly into the narratives, to be coherent and thematically appropriate. We love this show just as much as the general audience do (if not a little more, I swear, some of the posts I see on the 9-1-1 tag), so we're also the most likely to see its flaws and criticise it (look at the season 6 finale, I was on both Tumblr and Reddit at the time and let me tell you the number of essays I read)

We're not trying to make it seems like anything they put out is great as long as we can spin it to become Buddie. Some of us just try to have faith in the show and believe it will find a way to improve (and we'll be here to shit on it if it doesn't)

On the other hand, there's definitely a time and place for fun, light hearted jokes and commentaries about the direction the show's going in and how much we don't like it, so we pretend to not see it :)))

I absolutely understand how it can seem annoying and childish the way we approach Buddie content, literally scouring the floor for CRUMBS of a HINT of Buddie. But it's fun, it's not fun because it's lowkey a little pathetic looking, it's fun because there's a sense of community in it.

Somehow, the show being a little queerbaity and us getting next to nothing for our ship becomes a bit less shitty when you log on to your account and there are some 90 thousands people collectively losing their shit with you.

That's just how fandom spaces have always been, like-minded people with similar interests coming together to both celebrate and commemorate this piece of content that they love. I'll be sad if Buddie doesn't become canon, but honestly I don't care, I don't need it to live, I have more than enough fics and delusional friends to help me scratch that itch.

And right now, that's what I'm here for, not just for the show, or the characters and actors, but also for my incredibly talented mutuals, writers and bloggers that I look up to, new interesting free content from people who love the same thing I do.

In short, I think we all know that reality is not fanfiction, we've been burned by too many shows too many times to not take that to heart. But we get our hopes up anyway and live in this fictional land anyway because we find this way of consuming content way more fun.

And that's okay, neither way is wrong, and neither way should be shit on. We all love this weird wee woo show in our own ways, and I love that ^^

So, I lost the fucking point on this, this went from a simple reply of a post to a love letter to the Buddie fandom, the 9-1-1 fandom, and fandom as a whole.

Just in a really positive mood today, so wish everyone a happy day ^^

I’m loving how everyone is changing their tune to “oh hey now we can get a double date! We’re still wining!”

Like…do they think what that they will go on a double date and suddenly dump both girls in the middle of it to go make out in a corner…? The problem a lot of fans seem to have is they have it in their mind the show runs like fan fictions do and it does not.

💯 Headcanons are great, but some of the scenarios people throw out make it sound like Tim is just waiting for the right moment rather than writing scenes the networks will approve of.

Double date awkwardness would have already happened if this were a m/f ship.

What do we get?

Subtext.

[priboltao]

So.

I just saw a random video where Brendon Urie casually makes a rape joke.

I mean, I’m not even that surprised. All white males I ever admired always did something that was disappointed, in varying degrees - the less disappointing was Tom H., whose worst “crime” was to play Fitzgerald in a Woody Allen movie - Fitzgerald was abusive, Allen is a rapist and pedophile.

But, Brendon.... a rape joke? Seriously?

I get it. It was 7 years ago. But I have found no record of him ever apologizing.

Then a friend told me to look it up - cause I don’t know, there’s probably more to the story - and all I got was a lot more reasons why he’s problematic.

(Jokingly asking girls for nudes, joking about marriage as his wife hands him a beer, claiming to be the main writer for AFYCSO, and of a lot of songs writen by Ryan, keeping the band with Spencer when Ryan and Jon left without telling them, blocking Ryan on social media after a stalker hacked him and tried to make them get closer - that is actually a hot mess - unfollowing dallon after being an asshole to him when his wife and kids were attacked online, being an asshole to a fan who wanted to hand him a fanart, making a vine mocking a girl in sandals in a plane, complaining about a girl who had an anxiety attack in a plane cause, oh lord, it made him late, making fatphobic jokes, reinforcing gay stereotypes, making transphobic jokes, saying girls/girls/boys is about a threesome  - even though he always says it is about loving whoever you want - among others. I literally read about all of these.)

The thing is, I get it, people say stupid things. He’s in a privileged position so chances are he’s gonna fuck up without realizing it. But that’s not a good enough reason to just let these things slide - cause I’m sure people tell him when he fucks up.

I mean, how to deal with it? Cause the internet is telling me  Brendon Urie is problematic as fuck and if I love him and/or his music I am an idiot, Actually, people have actually said, and I quote “if you’re still his fan you’re evil and should get away from me”.

But the fandom.... ah, the fandom. The fandom tells me i should let EVERYTHING slide cause he’s Brendon Urie - with his beautiful voice and beautiful face and OF COURSE everything is out of context and he has a beautiful soul and - you get it. Everything has an excuse - and that includes the rape joke he’s never apologized for.

(“He was obviously drunk and it was seven years ago” is no excuse by the way. “I was drunk and it didn’t mean a thing” sounds great in a song, not so great in real life.)

So, can I get some middle ground, for fuck’s sake, before I lose my goddamn mind?

I’ve been alive this past few months BECAUSE of Brendon Urie. Because of his music, and my belief that some people are actually great and the world is still worth something. And tonight I felt like I lost it.

Someone, PLEASE, tell me it’s ok. Tell me I’m not a horrible person for still being his fan. PLEASE tell me he’s grown and apologized (links are very much appreciated). Please find me some way to believe in him again. That I can like his music and still acknowledge he’s fucked shit up. That he is actually a good person who deserves my love. That I’m justified for the last two tattoos i got. That he’s not a privileged - yet talented - little fucker who hates or mocks everything I am - fat, poor, bisexual, neuroatypical. And a woman who was assaulted and is actually writing this sentence for the first time, since she can’t for the love of god to use the “R” word to describe what happened.

(The guy who did it didn’t care I didn’t want it. See where I’m getting at? That was not just disappointing. It was triggering as fuck.)

I don’t wanna feel this way. I don’t wanna stop loving and admiing him. But this? This fucked my head up real bad.

[glittersandsourcherries]

Cheatercheaterbestfriend (part 1) | Elliot x Reader

Summary: Elliot comes clean and tells you about what happened on Saturday

Pairing: Elliot x Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: mention of cheating, swearing, mention of use

Note: Can you guess where I got the title inspo from?

part 2

-

You considered Jules as one of your best friends. Until tonight.

You fastened you pace in the barely-lit street, impatient to see Elliot after this insufferable dinner with your parents - being a child of divorce sucked.

He was playing guitar in his bedroom when you arrived and had a pen in his mouth, likely writing music. Although you enjoyed listening to him play, you took the guitar from his lap and replaced it with yourself. Now aware of your presence, Elliot took the pen from his mouth. He opened his mouth to say hello, but you cupped his face and kissed him, not letting him time to place a word. His lips felt appeasing against yours, turning your mood completely.

Elliot slid his hands to your waist, breaking the kiss. ''Hi.'' He bumped his nose against yours before stealing a quick kiss.

''Hi.'' You smiled at him sweetly, snaking your arms behind his neck.

It's crazy how the sole presence of someone you love can uplift your mood.

''Sorry for the wait, my parents were arguing about who I'll be spending Christmas with this year. As if I can't make my own decisions...'' You sighed, tired of all of that.

You thought joint custody would satisfy everybody, but it turned out to be a whole mess. Now they're fighting for you like you were some object they split the cost of to get. It's ridiculous and exhausting.

Confusion washed over Elliot's face. ''Isn't Christmas in three months?''

''I know.'' You absentmindedly played with the curls at the back of Elliot's head. ''They never cared much about Christmas, New Years, birthdays, Easter or even Labor day, but since the divorce, they're very into holidays. My mother wants to start celebrating Hanukkah just to spite my father and have me for a whole week! We aren't even Jewish!''

Elliot laughed.

''I got them to let me make plans with friends for New Years, so I can spend it with you. Wouldn't want to miss our first New Years kiss.''

At the mention of a New Years kiss, Elliot's face churned and his eyes dropped down. It was easy to guess that something was bothering him.

''Eh, before we make any plans like that, there's something I need to tell you.'' He gently pushed you off of him and had you sit in front of him instead, meaning it was serious matter.

The last time you heard those words, it was from your parents who were announcing their separation. You bit your lip and tried to calm your nerves. Whatever Elliot was going to say wouldn't compete with that announcement.

You watching as he chewed on his bottom lip, visibly nervous. ''I've been trying to think of the best way to tell about this, but I don't there there is a good way so I'm gonna take the bull head-on and say it. Jules...kissed me.''

You almost got up and told him to fuck himself, until you realized what he had really said. Jules had kissed him, not the other way around.

A deep frown creased between your eyebrows as your head bubbled with many different questions.

Why would Jules kiss someone else when she has a girlfriend? Doesn't she know the meaning of being faithful? How could she do that to Rue? Your heart was hurting for her. She didn't deserve this.

And why did she kiss Elliot? Didn't she say she was no longer interested in men? If she was confused about her sexuality, couldn't she have picked someone else to experience on? There's a billion men on earth, why did she pick yours? Was it to piss you off?

''When was this?'' you asked calmly.

''On Saturday,'' he replied, his eyes casted down to his lap, unable to meet your eyes after dropping the bomb. ''She arrived here first so we hung out while we were waiting for you and Rue to get here. We were talking and laughing and I don't get why, but she...kissed me.''

You nodded, taking in the information.

''Did you kiss her back?'' Your voice faltered.

To you, this was the most important part. Did Elliot kiss her back? His answer was going to be compelling. It's what will decide the fate of your relationship.

If Elliot kissed her back, there will be no forgiveness. Being a very loyal person, fidelity was very important to you and you could never take back someone who cheated on you, someone who betrayed you.

Elliot shook his head immediately. ''No. Of course not,'' he replied, looking at you with sincerity.

That was all you needed to hear.

.

''I hope not,'' you snapped, taking a seat beside Kat to put on your roller skates. ''I don't want to see her face again.''

''I get it, girl,'' Maddy said. ''If one of my best friends crossed me like that, I wouldn't want to see her face again.''

Before you, Cassie dropped one of her skate, her face looking like she had seen a ghost.

''You okay, Cas?''

She gave you a smile, concealing her real emotions. ''Yes. It just slipped.''

You returned your attention to your skates, pulling at the laces to tighten it.

''It's good that Elliot was honest and told you. Maybe he's got bigger balls than I thought.''

A chuckle left your lips. It's not only the balls, you almost said, but didn't want to start a conversation about your boyfriend's private anatomy.

''Talking about Elliot, where's your man?'' Cassie asked.

''With Rue. He wanted to wait and give Jules time to tell her about the kiss, but it's been weeks and it doesn't seem like Jules will tell her. Elliot feels bad hiding this from her. He doesn't want to be a homewrecker, but she deserves to know.''

''Hopefully she doesn't relapse again...''

Kat gave Maddy a dirty look. ''How can you say things like that?''

''I'm being serious. Rue loves Jules so much. Her heart will be broken. We all know what she'll turn to to numb her feelings.''

Shit. You hadn't thought about that.

When you told the girls about Jules kissing your boyfriend, Kat was the only one who remained friends with Jules. She said she didn't want to pick a side in a conflict that didn't concern her.

Maddy, Cassie and Bb all sided with you. Especially Maddy. Like you, Maddy was a deeply loyal person. To her, cheating - even just a kiss - was unforgivable. Cross her once and fear for your life.

Not feeling like waiting after Maddy, who seemed to take forever to tie her skates, you took Cassie's hand and went on the rink. Having been an ice skater when she was younger, the blonde was very skilled at this and taught you tricks. You were no pro-roller skater, but you didn't fall on your ass every ten seconds.

You watched Cassie perform a successful spin, wishing you were at that level. ''I need you to teach me that,'' you begged.

Cassie's answer was blocked as your head turned in direction of where Maddy and Kat were.

Your jaw clenched. ''What the fuck is she doing here?''

Seeing Jules made your blood boil. How dare she showing up at the roller rink as if nothing happened?

You abandoned Cassie and skated over to the side, rage in your eyes. ''Bitch, I'm gonna fuck you up!''

Terror flashed in Jules's at the sound of your threat. She looked at Kat and Maddy for help, but the latter shook her head.

''Don't look at me like that. I'm not gonna hold her back if she want to fight.''

[shurisneakers]

harmless (xiii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader)

Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, smidge of angst, guns, little bit of violence, obnoxious flirting, and kidnapping lol

Word count: 6.2k

A/N: welcome to chaos week >:) this is the first of three updates coming out this week (if i can finish the last one in time).  big thank you to my love @no-shit-sherl0ck for the kidnaped!reader idea, and that one anon who suggested the inator that’s used here. i know you wanted to see it in a zoo but i couldn’t really figure out a way to use that so i referenced it a bunch in previous chapters. oh and also @ginevranights​ for this specific imagery 

Previous Part  || Series Masterlist

Who the fuck kidnaps a villain in this day and age?

Saturday started normally enough.

Nat kicked Bucky’s ass in training, evening the score to 120 and 120. He blames it on the lack of sleep. She tells him that it’s his fault he stayed up late to binge watch 911 Lone Star.

He still thinks it was worth it.

The team’s sunshines and rainbows that morning. Someone had cooked up a batch of pancakes and fresh orange juice. Someone else burnt the bacon but left to feed his dog before anyone could complain.

Nat opened up the newspaper. Different sections went to different people until Bucky got stuck with the entertainment section. Fun, considering that he doesn’t even recognise half the names. He’d have to pretend to be interested until the next rotation.

He watches the orange juice levitate in front of him from the corner of his eye and just assumes that Wanda’s getting a refill even though she could have just asked him to pass it. He smells the next batch of bacon burning and figures that Clint is back.

Sam’s beside him, annoying him about how long it takes for him to read about which new celebrity relationship just ended and Bucky retaliates by reading even slower. Fuck you.

He’s on his second stack of pancakes absolutely drenched in maple syrup when the doors to the elevator open and Marie steps out, laptop in her hand.

An instant chorus of hello’s and invitations to have some charred bacon resound through the table. She politely declines them with a small smile, instead opening her laptop and placing it in front of Bucky without further ado. 

He looks at her questioningly, slowly swallowing whatever was in his mouth.

“An email for you.” She tuts her head towards it. “It has a video attachment of your friend.”

Bucky has plans to not watch the video in front of everyone, given that the content could range anywhere from you reading out fanfiction about him to a deep-fake of him singing a Whitney Houston song.

Both of which you have done before and would do again, without any hesitation.

“Aren’t you gonna watch it?” Wanda asks from across the table.

He slowly shakes his head no, cutting his stack into smaller pieces.

“If what’s in it is real, it’s important,” Marie stresses.

“What’s in it?” he inquires instead, hoping that the team would stop staring at him. If Marie was implying strongly that he needed to watch then something was wrong.

“Just watch it, man.” Sam’s statement has everyone agreeing with him. Bucky can’t refuse now, and if the team makes fun of him for the next month about how he looks good belting Greatest Love of All, he’s going to personally assassinate you.

He clicks on the email, noticing it came from a throwaway address. Probably untraceable, if the cards are played right. 

The video opens to grainy footage, which is stupid considering modern technological advancements. If this is one more of your stupid LARPing sessions, it could definitely wait till after lunch. 

But, he instantly recognises your silhouette strapped to a chair and suddenly the room feels very cold around him. His hand automatically clutches onto a bead from the bracelet you gave him that still remained tied to his left arm more often than not.

“Speak,” someone commands off camera.

“About what?” You sound annoyed, exasperated even.

“Why you’re here.”

“I’m here because you have unaddressed feelings of childhood insecurity.”

“I warned you to take this seriously.”

Bucky’s eyes widen slightly but his body relaxes the minute he reads the situation. 

The team’s crowded around him, he can feel it. His attention remains on the screen in front of him.

“Who even are you sending this to?” You don’t sound the least bit threatened. “My roommate’s not at home but my cat is and I don’t think she’d care.”

”You’ve made a complete joke out of villains everywhere. Fraternising with the enemies, the Avengers,” he spits the name with so much vitriol. “You’ve erased what it’s like to be truly evil. Turned us into a laughing stock.”

“If it takes one person to undermine your whole movement then maybe it wasn’t strong enough to begin with.” You look at someone outside the lens, face scrunching in distaste. “Also your costume’s ugly.”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you trace this voice?” Bucky asks, receiving an immediate confirmation. “Figure out who it is.”

“On it.”

“Tell them. Tell them we are a serious threat and are to be feared.”

"No,” you say resolutely. “You’re an overgrown manchild. Go watch Teletubbies or something.”

“She does not give a shit,” Clint marvels at the situation, a piece of half eaten burnt toast between his fingers.

You didn’t. And if he knew you in the slightest, which he prided himself on at this point, you already had six different ways of getting out of there.

“She knows she’s going to be fine,” Bucky murmurs, returning back to take a bite of his pancakes. “She’s probably still there just to irritate him.”

He zeroes in on your wrist to see if the teleportation watch was still there but no, your wrists are bare. Guess you forgot.

“You have to.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s how a real villain does it.”

“A real villain- what are you, gatekeeping the villain community?” You scoff. “You sound like a fuckin’ incel.”

“Just send them a message,” the guy bellows, hitting a table.

“She’s going to frustrate them to death.” An accurate observation, Sam.

“Okay, jeez, fine.”

Bucky just knows that you rolled your eyes at that moment.

He had faith in you, or in your abilities at the very least. While every wisecrack could possibly inch you closer towards harm, you probably wouldn’t be making them unless you felt completely secure in your situation.

“Help, I’m totally kidnapped and in danger. Save me because I can’t do it myself. This man is too powerful and strong and sooo scary.”

“Do you think she has a strategy?”

“Definitely.”

“You’re not worried, James?” Wanda asks curiously. “I thought she was your friend.”

“She is my friend.” He reaches over to take the jug of orange from across the table. “That’s why I’m not worried.”

“Are you going to fight the Avengers?” you interrupt his endless tirade. “Because that’s a stupid plan. You get how that’s a stupid plan, right?”

“Let them come. I’m prepared.”

“With what? A stick you found outside? A Nerf gun? Man, you’ve tied my hands with fuckin’ zip ties, you can’t be serious-”

“Shut up,” he roared and the stand shakes slightly from where he stamps his feet. “Our army is enough.”

“Wow,” you exhale. “I wish I had your confidence, I really do. I want to study you under a microscope.”

“I have reinforcements.” It sounds like he turns to the camera to address it directly. “This is a warning. Your friends have an hour to find you or things are gonna turn ugly. This is what real evil looks like.”

“Evil dresses in a dollar store Speedo, apparently.” The man pays you no heed, instead picking up the camera. “Hey, sarge, if you’re watching this, don’t bother. I’m fine, it’s not even the real me-”

The camera cuts to black.

“When was this video sent?” Nat looks at Marie, eyebrows drawn together.

“About ten minutes ago.”

Bucky clicks out of the email, determined to get at least half his breakfast in him before he left to see what’s up with your situation. A notification pops up immediately.

evilkneival123@gmail.com just sent you an email.

A video attachment.

“We got another one,” Bucky informs the team, drawing their attention back to the screen from the informal conversation that had erupted between them about what they could do.

This time, there’s a subject line included.

Attack on the Clone.

"Ain’t that a Star Wars movie?" he asks, craning his neck to look at Clint.

"That's Attack of the Clones," Sam corrects. "Probably autocorrect."

Bucky narrowed his eyes in suspicion at him, jaw sliding outward before falling back into place. Enough times had Sam called him Fucky in the group chat and gotten away with it for him not to be wary.

“Or a code,” Wanda suggests, too many crime thrillers read and podcasts listened in her spare time. She occasionally brought them over to Self Care Saturday, introducing him to the world of true crime as a bit of light content while they snacked on chocolate chip cookies he baked. “Like the Zodiac.”

“For what?” Bucky peers over at her.

“All I remember from that movie is them rolling around a field together,” Clint mutters. “Maybe that’s how you’re supposed to save her.”

“I’m not saving anyone. Look at her, she’s fine.” Is he the only one who saw it?

When he’s met with skeptical looks and no other useful suggestions, he presses play on the video.

This time it's clearer footage. It hardly takes him a second to ascertain where it was.

"That's her lair." It showed the pathway leading up to the flat concrete building, exactly where the intercom should be.

There was a black Sedan parked haphazardly outside, engine still on judging by the sound of the radio blasting an AC/DC song. 

Within a few seconds, someone drags you from the entrance of the lair to the car, despite your very clear protests and opposition, shoving you inside before it takes off in full speed, tires screeching. 

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., track the car from that video. Check all the CCTV and surveillance footage from around the area that you can find," Bucky commands, taking a sip of orange juice.  

"Why would they send us that?" Clint pipes up. "They make their email untraceable but send us a video of the fuckin' abduction itself?"

"I don't know." Bucky shakes his head, setting his glass down. "She probably convinced them to."

It was an unusual scenario, he realised that. But his eyebrows lower in contemplation, his lip caged between his lip before a thought suddenly occurs to him. A laugh in disbelief almost escapes his throat ad he pushes it down with some freshly cut strawberries. 

"And they listened?"

"I don't think you realise how annoying she can be." He knows, though. He knows. "Bet they regret it, though. I should tell them to keep her for a little longer."

"Voice recognition registers voice to someone named Chad, better known by his alias Soul Crusher. Surveillance footage places the car about thirty minutes away. Exact location sent to your phone GPS."

Soul Crusher. That was worse than Dr. Strange.

"I can make that fifteen." Bucky shrugs, setting down his fork and knife. If his hunch is right, the team didn’t really have to get involved. “See you guys later.”

“Do you want any of us coming with you?” Wanda gestures to the crowd at hand.

“I got it.” He pushes away from the table, depositing his plate in the sink, dropping an extra piece of bacon on the ground for Clint’s dog. “She’ll be alright.”

They watch him trail out of the room briskly, heading up to his room to change.

“Is it just me or is he too casual about this?” Clint continues staring long after he leaves.

“Both of them are weirdos.” Nat pulls open the newspaper again, going back to the sport’s section. “Who knows what goes in their heads.”

“Can confirm that not a lot goes on in his.”

Without Bucky to retaliate or grumble, a Steve walking into the room, sweaty and shiny after training becomes the new subject of jokes that morning.

__

For the first time in months, he’s had to bring a weapon or two along with him. Two revolvers and a couple of knives kept out of plain view. He wouldn’t need more than that anyway.

True to his word, it takes only fifteen minutes to get there, thirteen if he didn’t stop for the chain of ducks that crossed the street.

He’s also dressed in a little more leather than he usually reserves for your meetings. A jacket that brings to act as a windbreaker and tightly laced up combat boots make him look like he either stepped off a runway, or more menacing than usual depending on who was looking.

The GPS points him to an old warehouse near a more subdued part of the city. It was abandoned by the looks of it, and had been for a while judging by the lack of upkeep. Prime real estate.

He pulls off his helmet, hanging it on the handlebar along with his backpack before kicking the stand into place. The bike’s a few metres away just in case they decide to blow something up.

Bucky looks up at the warehouse, assessing the most damage he could do to it if at all it was needed. That thing could barely stand on its own, a grenade would absolutely decimate it. That wasn’t good news for you.

He sighs once before putting on his death glare, straightening out his shoulders into a stature that screams stone-cold, and pushes the door open, gun raised.

A mini-army of people ranging from their early twenties to late thirties stood guard at the entrance, all with rifles pointed at him. He counts fifteen, maybe eighteen.

“Oh, hell no,” a voice erupts from the back, followed by the sound of his gun being thrown to the ground. “No one told me that he was coming.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, his death glare not shifting and Glock not lowering.

“I’m out.” The same guy raises his hands up to show he meant no harm, slowly brushing past Bucky as he squeezed out of the building.

“You got five seconds to leave before I shut this door,” Bucky gives the rest of them an ultimatum. Not like there was a point anyway. SHIELD was sending down some people to account for the one day rise in new morons. 

They all looked at each other, swallowing thickly before raising their weapons.

“I hope he’s giving you good insurance.” The second he finishes his sentence they all cry out in what sounds like a fucking war chant, launching themselves at him. 

______

“They’re here.” Someone presses his ear to the door as if the gunshots and screaming weren’t enough. 

“Brilliant. We’re ready.” Chad picks up the knife, running his finger along the sharp end. You try to see if you can use your Twitter-ordained powers of manifestation for a paper cut.

“How much are you asking them for?” You put forth a query instead, when it disappointingly doesn’t work.

“Asking who for what?” Chad stops his dumb intimidation tactic for a second. 

“You know,” you insist like it was obvious, “my ransom. How much did you ask them to pay?”

“We didn’t-” He looks around at the other people in the room for confirmation. “-we didn’t ask for any.”

“Because I’m invaluable?” Your head droops to the side in mock flattery. “Aw, you guys.”

“We didn’t think of it,” someone from the corner behind you speaks up, coming to the aid of their boss.

“Now that’s just rude.” You tut, shifting maybe an inch or two in your bounds to try and get more comfortable. “Leaving aside your lack of preparation, let’s just assume he bursts in here, desperate and ready to bargain. How much would you ask for?”

“Three million,” Chad says confidently, gathering a nod and sounds of agreement from everyone else.

“Are you serious?” Your jaw drops, a scoff escaping you. “That’s all?”

His self-assurance falters a little bit, you can see it under his 5 Minutes Craft mask.

“Three mill-” You stop mid-sentence. “With this wiring? Ridiculous. Make it ten, I demand it.”

“We’ll ask for fifteen mil,” Chad proposes, his teammates agreeing again, a little more delighted than last time.

“Ask for thirty, you coward,” you argued. “Thirty million and a jet.”

“You’re not worth that much.” The dipshit diagonal to you pipes up with his unwanted and, frankly, useless opinion.

“And you are?” You whip around the best you can. “Henchman number four?”

“Megedagik,” he informs, standing up a little taller now that he was given some importance. “It means ‘killer of many’.”

“Did you just say your name was Mega Dick?” 

“Megedagik,” he corrects.

You stare at him hard before turning away. “Alright, other than Mega Dick here, does anyo-”

A knife lands right next to your feet, driven at least an inch into the ground. You look up at the guy you managed to piss off within four sentences, his face now a beet red. 

“These are brand new, asshole,” you barked, shaking your shoes around. “You’re gonna pay if there’s even a scratch on it.”

“Permission to kill her?” Meg growls, casting a side eye at Chad.

The boss man looks at you thoughtfully, assessing the repercussions of what might happen. You raise an eyebrow.

“Slow and painful,” he settles. 

A small smirk makes its way onto your face. 

“Title of your sex tape,” you quip as the man in the corner storms towards you.

_____

It’s all a flurry, really. A bunch of inexperienced newcomers versus one of the most skilled assassins the world had ever seen? Ten minutes tops.

Bucky doesn’t do any serious damage. A couple of broken bones but only out of necessity, a lot of concussions, and maybe a bullet wound, or three, here and there. 

Most of the time he spends thinking about things that have absolutely nothing to do with what was going on. He forgot to take his laundry out of the machine. There was a biscotti recipe he had been procrastinating on trying. His succulents needed watering but he could do that once he was back. Was he wearing his good combat pants or was it the pair that had a hole in the pocket?

His left hand thrust outwards to shove someone away while he stuck his right hand into his pocket to check if it had frayed away. The person he pushed slams into a wall with a loud groan and no, his pants didn’t have a hole in them. 

He stops to take a breather, assess what was going on. There are bodies scattered all around, mostly writhing in pain from minor injuries. Someone very bravely stands up, hands posed in front of him in a regular fighting stance.

“You sure about this?” Bucky asks, reaching for one of the concealed knives he hadn’t had a chance of using yet. It twirls rather nimbly between his fingers for something so dangerous, the hilt finally landing in his palm for a sturdy grip.

The man takes one look at the knife before sitting right back down on the ground. 

“Good choice,” his voice drops to an octave lower than his self-esteem. He’s tired of this old routine but it works like a neat little party trick, often getting him the result he wanted. “Where?”

A few fingers point down the hall to the only room whose door was closed.

He makes sure to step over everyone who was lying along the way, ears tuned in to even the smallest of noises just in case one of them decided to attack him from the back. It doesn’t come.

He doesn’t bother creeping down the hallway. With all the ruckus that just went on outside, he’s pretty sure it’s obvious that they had an intruder. 

Bucky kicks in the large steel door with ease, given that it was barely hanging on its hinges. His gun’s raised, muscles tight, and senses on high alert for any immediate threats. 

It lands with a large thud, reverberating through the room. He’s reminded of your first meeting with him.

There’s a chair in the middle of the room with a person tied to it by a mixture of rope and tape. Others found themselves slithering around on the floor in a similar fashion, trying to get out of their bondages.

“Hey, James,” you call out, drawing his attention to you. You were sitting atop a table, legs swinging back and forth without a care in the world, a blade in your hand. 

“You okay?” He tucks the gun into his waistband when he realises that none of the henchmen are going to be going anywhere soon.

“All good.” You hop off the table with a little spring in your step. “Did you bring your bike? I need a ride back to the lair. I think I left the TV on when I was, you know, getting kidnapped.”

“You coulda teleported back home before all of this even happened.” Bucky does a quick assessment of your body to make sure there weren’t any bruises or anything of the sort. “Avoided the whole thing.”

“Don’t have the watch with me.” Odd, since he knows you consider it one of your essentials but it just fuels his theory further. “Besides, if I just quit before we started, they’d keep messing with me over and over again.”

“Do you want me to punch someone’s face in?” He glances around the room at the ones wiggling about on the floor like fucking worms. “I’d be happy to.”

“Nah, I got a few in myself.” You rotate your wrist, other hand still holding onto the knife. “You know what, maybe I’ll have another go.”

He simply makes a noise in acknowledgement before he places a hand on the hem of your shirt, gently reeling you back. “I think you fixed ‘em up real good. That’s enough for today.”

“Fine but only ‘cause you said so.” You huff, looking past him and at the weirdos on the ground. “You hear that? This man just saved your life. Say ‘thank you’.”

A muffled chorus of what sounded like appreciation echoed through the room. Bucky awkwardly looks around.

“Damn right.” You walk over to the guy in charge of the whole event, bending down to his level. “If you ever try to fuck with us again...”

You stare straight into his eyes, unblinking. You hold up the knife to his Adam’s apple. Chad doesn’t dare to move other than the thick swallow.

You raise your finger and flick him in the forehead. “Get a better costume.”

The corner of Bucky’s lip quirks upward.

“Let’s go, sarge,” you announce, standing upright again and making a motion to follow you. “D’you have an extra helmet I could use?”

“Yeah.” He had brought one along in his bag, assuming that you’d need one once he noticed the watch was missing in the footage.  

“Yay.”

The only storage space on his bike was under his seat and it’s just enough for an extra revolver. Clint asked him if it was his way of flirting with someone, give ‘em a quick spin around the city and then show them his gun. If looks could kill, Clint would be 7 feet under. 

“You sure you wanna ride it, though?” He cringes immediately when he realises what it sounds like, waiting for you to smack the innuendo in his face. “We could wait for SHIELD.”

“Don’t really have another choice, Bucky,” you say absentmindedly, strolling out the room as you tossed the knife behind you.

He frowns at your indifference but turns around for a second to look at Chad. The man in question looks back viciously, his grandeur from that morning basically deflated and left to die along with his reputation.

“Might wanna reconsider the name,” Bucky remarks, doing a quick sweep of the area once more. “Soul Crusher.”

He waits until both of you are outside the cell and the door is shut on the ringleader and his circus clowns, handlebar twisted out of place so that they don’t escape for the time being.

“One second,” he calls, touch gently lingering on your forearm to stop you without even thinking twice about it. A famously uncharacteristic move for him.

"Hm?” You don’t even look like you notice his action.

“You sure you’re good?” he asks seriously, actual concern slipping through the question. “Do you need medical assistance?”

“They couldn’t hurt me anyway.” There’s something strange about the way you say it, almost assuredly. “I’m good.”

“Okay,” he concedes, his hand darting back when he realises it was still on your arm. His eyebrows furrow when he realises how instinctively he had reached out in the first place.  He didn’t touch anyone, ever.

“What are we gonna do about them?” you inquire, stepping over someone on the floor to get to the exit.

“Marie told Agent Hill. They’re sending someone over.”

“They’re sending SHIELD for these wannabes?” Someone groans in protest from somewhere and you elect to ignore them. “Ew.”

“Just to make sure confidential information isn’t compromised in any way.” There’s a large bang that comes from the room they just left. Maybe one of them shot their teammate by accident. They were more than capable of doing it.

“I would never,” you exacted a little more solemnly, pushing the door open with your elbow to let the sunlight flood in.

“I know.” He doesn’t realise how dark it was in the warehouse until he steps out into the noon sun. “I’m pretty sure this is more about the fact that you were abducted.”

“For me?” The smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes the way he kinda likes. Something definitely felt off. “I love being class favourite.”

He doesn’t reply, a small grunt as he twists the handle of the warehouse door upwards, effectively jamming it. 

“Can I drive?” You bat your eyelashes at him innocently, disregarding the loud screaming that came from inside as those less injured probably regrouped for a last ditch attempt. 

“No,” he doesn’t hesitate in replying, handing you a helmet and buckling his own securely.

“But I just got kidnapped,” you complained, watching him swing a leg over the bike and straddle it. Okay then. 

“All the more reason for you not to drive right now.” He mentions for you to get on, squinting at the warehouse a few feet away.

“Fine, but next time I’m driving,” you grumble, climbing on the back.

“Do you even know how to?” His head is tilted to look at you from the corner of his eye, voice heavier on account of the obstruction on his face.

The door starts shaking violently and he knows for a fact that it won’t hold up for much longer. Some of those who he had knocked out probably had been shaken awake again for manpower. 

“I can learn.” You take a pause, mischief seeping into your next words. “You can teach me.”

“No.” He didn’t exactly practice what was considered safe, law abiding driving. He just got from one point to another and that’s all he cared about.

“Then I’ll do it myself.” You sound determined. “I’m going to leave a note for us in the lair.”

“You do that.” He revs the engine when something solid hits the metal door. As guessed, their usage of props to push it down faster was coming into play. “Now, can you hold on to something? We need to go.”

If only those idiots just realised that the windows covered by newspapers were right there, ready to be broken.

“Only if you promise to let me drive next time,” you say defiantly, drawing this whole ordeal out.

“Whatever,” he urges. “I promise. Now can we go?”

“Wait for it...” There’s a devilish smile on your face. “One.”

There’s a loud creak as the door finally gives way.

“Two.” The same people you left tied up in the room burst out, almost stumbling over each other in the process.

“Three,” he completes it on his own, not waiting for you to finish because God knows how long you’d stretch it out just for the drama.

Your excited screech of laughter as he narrowly misses a rod that gets thrown at him like a fucking javelin temporarily distracts him from the brain freeze he gets when your arms wind around his waist to hold yourself in place. 

There’s angry screaming and bullets that whiz past in an attempt to get him to stop but a swift turn around a corner, pulling the both of you out of their sight is enough to get rid of them. 

“We should get a few weapons and go back,” you yell over the wind rushing by, barely audible.

“You do that in your own free time,” he shouts in response, yanking you through narrower lanes and less popular streets.

“Maybe I will, you bore.” 

Still, you shut up for the rest of the ride, only grumbling when he stops the bike to tell you that no, you cannot let go just because you want to throw your hands in the air like in the movies.

You hop off when he finally pulls up on the street outside your lair, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. He waits patiently as you unbuckle the helmet, switching off the engine. 

“You gonna drop me off at my door too, now?” You snicker, fingers pulling off the helmet.

He looks at you for a second before dropping the kickstand into place and dismounting from the motorcycle.

“I was kidding.” You laugh, handing him your headgear that he shoves into his backpack. 

“You’re pretty capable of gettin’ abducted along the way.” An absurd notion, considering it’s a short path from the road to the door. 

“Oh, how chivalrous.” You let him tag along anyway, for his peace of mind. 

“My ma didn’t expect any less.” A couple of sharp lessons from Winifred Barnes and Bucky was nothing short of a damn angel. 

You knock on the door three times, crossing your arms over your chest as you waited. 

“Aren’t you the one with the key?” Bucky questions, one hand on his waist. 

The door swung open in the middle of his sentence revealing... you.

Another you.

“Nah, she has it.” Ex-Kidnapped-You raises your head in acknowledgement at Doorway-You.

“Ah.” He fucking knew it. An unnatural sense of smugness blossoms in his chest. 

“Hey,” the both of you said at the same time.

Doorway-You looked way more relaxed, a little less grimy and dishevelled but exactly the same.

“Buck, I see you met my other half,” the you from the doorway greets him. “Or other whole, actually.”

“Sure did.” He sends a glance at Ex-Kidnapped-You.

“You can go on in. Big first day, huh?” Doorway-You refers to the you beside him.

“You wouldn’t believe,” Ex-Kidnaped-You mutters, pushing past the entrance and disappearing inside.

“She gonna be okay?” His gaze trails after your clone.

“Oh yeah, just needs to recharge.” You turn around to make sure she’s fine. “She’s made of some pretty strong carbon, technically almost indestructible.”

No wonder ‘you’ said they couldn’t hurt you.

“Heya, sarge.” You draw his attention back to you. “Always good to see you.”

“Can’t really say the same about you.” 

“Ever the emotional repressor, Mr Barnes. I like this little leather show you got going, did ya wear it just for me?”

He shifts his balance to his other foot, feet slightly wide apart. “Take it that the clone machine finally worked?”

“I was in the middle of celebrating.” You sigh, recalling the events of that morning. “Teleported home for a second to get some champagne and when I came back she was gone.”

“Irresponsible.” He tsks, head shaking in disappointment. 

“Sorry I didn’t take amateur kidnappers into account for my risk factor analysis, Bucky,” you shoot back, pressing on his name for added annoyance. “Anyway, I did the responsible thing. I sent all the evidence I had to you guys.”

“Real clever.” Bucky looks at you in dry amusement. “Attack on the clone? Really?”

“Hey, always make time for a good pun.” You finger gun, lopsided grin on your face. “Did the team like it?”

“They thought it was a typo.” Or a code. He really had Wanda to thank for his big revelation. “Your video didn’t help either.”

“Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.” You laugh, crossing your arms over your chest.

He doesn’t reply, pursing his lip inwards in sympathy, but more so to conceal a smile.

The happiness drops from your face slowly, horror taking its place. “Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.”

“Good job, your machine worked,” he adds helpfully.

“C’mon, there were so many differences,” you whine, the success of your endeavour the last thing on your mind. 

“That is your literal clone,” he points out, only to see you- clone you- walk into the giant box in the corner of the room, bright green light emanating from it like a xerox machine.

“How could they not tell the original apart from a copy?” You look genuinely offended. Insane. “Not even Sam?”

“Guess you’re not unique enough.” A rise and fall of his shoulders signify his attitude towards this whole thing. “Think I like your copy better, too, actually.”

“You’re so mean.” You puff in disbelief. “I’m a 100% original. How many mad scientist teachers do you know?”

“Two.” 

“I don’t mean now, that’s not even the-” You poke at his rock hard chest. “You are so much more annoying than when I first met you.”

He thinks it’s good relationship development.

“I have to deal with you every weekend.” He watches your finger drop from his chest. “Picked it up along the way.”

“Boo hoo, talking like you don’t have deep, deep feelings for me.” You roll your eyes. “I see right through you, Bucky Barnes.”

“Can you see the part that couldn’t give less of a shit?” He gestures to himself. “It’s all of it.”

“You think you’re such a comedian, huh?” You narrow your eyebrows. “How did you know she was a fake then, huh?”

Busted.

“Probably ‘cause you didn’t talk as much today,” he dodges. “Actually had some peace of mind for a change.”

“You knew before you got there, you liar.” You push past his fabrications. “You figured it out before everyone else.”

“You literally put it in the title.”

“Yeah, but the rest of the team saw it too.”

“Rest of the team didn’t know you were building a goddamn clone machine for months.”

“You remembered that?” You pulled away, palm over your heart. “Oh, sarge, you paid attention to me.”

His nose twitches.

“You said it, like, eight hundred times.” He could use both his hands to count the number of references you had offhandedly made in the last three weeks alone.

“Why'd you go save me when you knew it wasn't real?” you continue to challenge relentlessly, knowing fully well that he was fibbing. 

“Because you fuckin’ peer pressured me. Had the whole team around me when you sent your little video during breakfast.”

“Just admit it,” you coo, ignoring all his justifications. “You noticed it was fake me right away but showed up anyway because you’re wildly in love with me.”

“No,” he says stiffly. 

“No as in you won’t admit it you have a crush on me, or no as in you didn’t know it was fake me?”

There was no winning this. 

“Good day to you.” He pulls the motorcycle helmet on to hide the expression that plain as day screamed the former of your two options.

“Also,” you bring up indignantly, “she even got to ride the fucking bike and I’ve been asking to drive it for months now!”

“We-” he chooses his words carefully. “-compromised.”

“Oh, you did?” Your voice lowers at the newfound information, interest piqued. “I’m gonna hold you to that then, whatever it is.”

“Doesn’t count.”

“Absolutely does,” you huff. “A promise is legally binding. Blue’s Clues taught me that.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

“You’re my knight in leathery armour,” you swoon, switching sides immediately, “Kinda.”

“See you next week,” he says in farewell, determined to leave before you made it worse. “Try not to get killed by then.”

“Why, so you can do it yourself? Protective much?” You pull him back when he starts walking away, laughing slightly. “Wait a second, you weirdo.”

He sighs, staying put anyway, arms crossed impatiently over his chest.

You pull out the pen tucked behind your ear and slowly tap him twice on each shoulder in a makeshift knighting ceremony. “For your sacrifice.”

He rolls his eyes at the ludicrousness, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth.

You ignore his lack of enthusiasm, pressing your fingertips to your lips in a small kiss and then to his nose, given that it was the only part of his face you had access to.

“That was for your bravery.” You grin brightly at him and he sure as hell is glad he’s wearing the stupid helmet because he can feel his cheeks light up a bright crimson.

“Thanks.” His voice sounds gruffer than a second ago. He clears his throat.

“Now you’re my knight in leathery armour,” you fawn, nearly falling over yourself dramatically. “Let’s ride into the sunset together. I love you.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he calls out over his shoulder, turning away to return to his bike. “I despise you.”

“But you don’t.”

He really didn’t.

also i managed to fuck my phone up really bad so all proceeds from my ko-fi go towards getting it fixed

Next part

[goddess-help-us]

Well damn, that fucked me up.

I just finished watching Under the Banner of Heaven on Hulu. For those who don't know Under the Banner of Heaven is a TV miniseries adaptation of the 2003 crime investigative book by the same name that tells the story of the 1984 case of Utah v. Lafferty, where two self-radicalized LDS brothers viciously murdered their sister-in-law, Brenda Lafferty, and their 15-month-old niece and justified it using their self-propagated fanatical religious beliefs.

Under the Banner of Heaven is screenwritten by Dustin Lance Black, the famous gay screenwriter who wrote Milk. Black grew up in the LDS (Mormon) Church and eventually left. He is a natural choice to screen-write Under the Banner of Heaven given his experience.

To place the viewer in the story, Black creates a fictional main character, Jeb Pyre, who plays the primary detective. Pyre himself is LDS and the investigation he leads into the crime seriously makes him question his faith to the degree that even high-level church officials intervene in the investigation.

At the end of the series, the souls of Pyre and Brenda are shown in the Salt Lake City LDS Temple's presentation room, which contains wall frescoes of beautiful natural environments to remind LDS members of God's creation. The scene quickly changes to an actual forest, with Pyre walking his dementia-stricken LDS mother to a beautiful vista overlooking a mountain sierra, a forest, and a river. Pyre's mother has a moment of clarity through her dementia and remarks, "Oh, it's just a gift from our Heavenly Father. It's a miracle," and is overtaken by emotion. Pyre responds, "Or just to be here with you, Mom," to which his mother looks up and smiles at him. "I think that may be miracle enough for me. Is that okay, Mom?" And she immediately exclaims, "Yes, oh my god, yes!" And the scene pulls away from them showing them hugging each other in the forest.

It's just such a powerful conclusion to the series because Pyre struggles with his faith in the Church starting with and throughout the investigation. He eventually learns from the initial suspect, Allen, and that you don't need to draw your faith from any institution or organization and then also from his police colleague, Detective Taba, that you don't need to see the world through any organization's or faith's lens—you can simply appreciate it for what it is. That, instead, you can place your family at the center of your faith, not "The Church" or any church, and everything else can be accessory. And Black's writing brilliantly shows this at the final scene. By replacing the naturalistic frescoes of the Salt Lake LDS Temple with the actual natural world, Black shows that Pyre isn't letting the Church define his faith anymore. Instead, he is living authentically post faith-reckoning, loving his still-Mormon family, and able to appreciate the miracle that is, indeed, the world all around us. Whether or not it's from a cosmic being is irrelevant.

For myself it hit hard because this kind of faith crisis or faith reconciliation is a journey that I myself to traverse learning I was gay and realizing that I needed to leave the insular religious community of my upbringing. But, like Pyre, I still love my family and my relationship with them has improved tremendously over the years. I've been very lucky. As my parents age, I see their human fragility and I think about how they are both entering the twilight years of life while I am on the other end of life's journey. I see my parents in Pyre's mother and, like him, I am so thankful for the miracle that they are still here. And just how Pyre's mother accepts that life without "Heavenly Father" can still be miraculous, my parents have eased up on the polemics of their church and are now themselves trying to enjoy the remainder of their time on Earth. And I'm glad to see it.

And all of this happening during Pride, a month dedicated to celebrating the struggle to overturn stigma and live authentically and openly, certainly adds more tug to the pull on my heartstrings.

I just needed to write down these thoughts while they were fresh in my head. Thanks for reading if you've come this far.

[griffintail]

One Last Time

Summary: (Y/N) goes to live with her Uncle Tubbo in the aftermath of their lose.

Pairings: Parental! Tommy x Teenage! F!Reader

Platonic! Ranboo, Tubbo x Teenage! F!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Exile, Everyone’s just sad man.

This the second part to True One

The next part is A Normal Smile

A/N: Two different people wanted this,  🐝 anon and @samistheidiot​ So, here you guys go! 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

        (Y/N)…wished it was a nightmare, that Tommy would shake her awake like she’d done many times before for him when he’d have a nightmare.

        Instead, there she stood in Snowchester, staring at her Uncle Tubbo’s house. He’d grabbed her things from…Tommy’s house and brought her back to his own home. Tubbo had found her with Sam and had broken down with her this time. She tried to deny everything Sam was telling her, what she saw on her walkie. Yet, when Tubbo pulled her in and held her close, she knew it was real this time.

        He wasn’t coming back.

        It took hours to finally get (Y/N) out of the hotel and into a boat with Tubbo. When she had first exhausted herself, Tubbo had a serious conversation with Sam. Tubbo knew what Tommy always wanted for his little girl. He’d been there through many steps of their lives, so he knew what Tommy would have wanted now. (Y/N) would come with him.

        Sam wanted to argue that he could take care of her but…he didn’t have faith in himself anymore and agreed it was best.

        Tubbo stood at the door, looking back at (Y/N), who hadn’t spoken since they left the hotel room.

        “(Y/N).” He called gently, her dull gaze looking at him now, making his throat tighten. “Come inside, let’s get warm.”

        She sighed, following him. She went back to the room she had been in when…

        Tears welled in her eyes as she sat on the bed. He was supposed to come to get her; they were supposed to have been celebrating. She buried her face in her hands as Tubbo was putting down his things in the main room, still trying to process his own feelings.

        He was in full denial.

        Tommy shouldn’t have gone like that. In the prison, beaten to death…Tommy shouldn’t have gone at all. Not his best friend. Tommy just had to be alive, he just had to, just like last time! He still had a daughter to raise!

        …but Tubbo knew he was wrong deep down.

        “Tubbo!” Ranboo burst into his home, out of breath.

        Ranboo had gotten the same message as everyone else. He had gone all the way from his base at Techno’s to see Tubbo first.

        “Hey, Ranboo.” He said quietly. “I guess you saw.”

        “I-I did. It’s wrong, right? There’s no way…” Ranboo tried to deny himself.

        “…Sam said it’s real.” Tubbo gripped his hands along the edges of a chest. “That Dream and Tommy were fighting and then…they were actually fighting…”

        “No…No that can’t be right. Sam should have…Dream wouldn’t have…”

        “What do you mean Dream wouldn’t have?” (Y/N) spat as she came into the room. “Dream was a fucking psychopath! We all knew that! Yet we let my fucking father stay in the godforsaken prison cell with him! After all the shit he’s put my family through! WE LEFT TOMMY IN THERE!”

        “(Y/N).” Tubbo took a step towards her.

        “No, I don’t have time for this shit. It’s just like exile.” (Y/N) scoffed, putting her hands in her pockets as she walked back to her room, slamming the door.

        Tubbo was frozen in his spot as tears gathered in his eyes, (Y/N)’s old words screaming in his head.

        It’s your fault!

        Ranboo looked at his friend before quickly following after the girl knocking on the door.

        “Go away!” She shouted.

        “No, I won’t. That wasn’t fair. We’ve all lost someone today.”

        (Y/N) boiled in her room as she stormed to the door and threw it open, tears stuck in her eyes.

        “Yeah? Well, guess what? Life isn’t really fucking fair now is it?” Her shoulders were shaking in anger. “You know what my dad was doing at my age? He was fighting in a god damn war for a country that doesn’t even exist anymore! He lost two lives to a green fucking bastard. And now, he’s lost a third because no one listens when someone screams for help.”

        Ranboo stood there in shock as she stared at him.

        “You can’t tell me what’s fair. I watched my dad go through trial after trial. So, I mean this in the nicest way possible, fuck off.”

        She closed the door again and locked it before sliding her back down against the door as she sat on the floor, letting her tears flow again as she was in privacy. It was going to be a long day…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

        Tubbo and Ranboo let her have her privacy. Ranboo had decided he’d stay for a while as he figured his friend would need all the help he could get as he was grieving and also now had a grieving teenager living with him. The two didn’t see (Y/N) the rest of the day and the next morning came.

        (Y/N) woke up from her spot on the floor trying to clear her mind and remember what happened. She wished she hadn’t as she pulled her legs up and hugged them with one arm and her other hand lightly gripped onto her bandana. Her thoughts went wild in the early morning light.

        She didn’t have anything of her father’s. His gear would all be in the prison and she refused to ever be near that place again. The more important thing was the discs; she couldn’t ever get those. They were in Tommy’s ender chest. She’d never hear them again, not that she wanted to without Tommy…

        If the adults had just listened to her, let her storm that building when she had the chance…!

        It was her fault too…

        No, none of this was her fault, it was the adults that wouldn’t listen!...

        She held her head as her thoughts were scrambled in anger at herself and anger at others. She thought she was supposed to be sad but she was just…angry. Angry at Sam, Tubbo, Ranboo, Dream.

        She remembered being angry when she thought her father was originally dead. Tubbo had been the primary target of her anger because he was Uncle Tubbo but he never listened to her anymore. He did a lot to reconcile with her over after everything was said and done, Tommy helping his best friend do so, wanting his daughter and friend to see each other as a family once again.

        She felt guilt now for what she said the day before. She shouldn’t have brought up exile, Tubbo regretted it every day and tried so hard to reconnect with the two of them.

        “(Y/N)?” Tubbo knocked on her door.

        She didn’t move.

        “(Y/N), this is my house, I have a key.”

        “So?” She muttered.

        “Please open the door.”

        “Shouldn’t you be angry?” She asked instead.

        “Why?” Tubbo questioned, confused.

        “…I brought that time up.”

        Tubbo felt his heart pound a little harder before he took a deep breath. “Can I come in please?”

        She huffed, but got up slowly and opened the door, Tubbo standing there with a plate of food and water. He came in, putting the plate and cup down on the nightstand as (Y/N) sat on the bed. Tubbo sat next to her, connecting his hands as he looked down at them.

        “I know…I messed up back then. Things might have been different if I had listened to you like I was supposed to. I was supposed to take care of you for…for Tommy.” His breath shook. “I failed…in a lot of different ways with a lot of different things. I tried to make it all better after. When he got stuck in the prison, I didn’t tell you,” Tubbo looked at her with tears in his eyes, “but I went to Sam privately demanding to know why he wouldn’t let Tommy out. I was trying to make sure I did it right this time. I wouldn’t let this be exile.”

        (Y/N)’s guilt piled on her as tears welled in her eyes. Tubbo put an arm around her shoulder before pulling her into a hug as he put his head on top of hers.

        “I don’t know what happened in there but I promise you, I will find out,” Tubbo promised with his whole heart. “For myself, you, and Tommy, I’ll figure out what happened.”

        “I’m sorry Uncle Tubbo.” She cried on him now.

        “It’s alright. I’m angry at everything too.” He muttered. “But we’ll figure it out.”

        He let her cry it all out on him as he let a few of his own tears drip before making sure she ate and drank.

        “I’m not going to force you to do anything,” Tubbo told her as he took the half-eaten plate. “I’ll be here though if you need anything.”

        “…Uncle Tubbo?”

        He stopped at the door, looking at her.

        “I want to make a memorial for dad.” She whispered.

        His whole body softens as he thought before nodding. “Ok, we can do that. Get dressed and we’ll go work on it now.”

        Tubbo went out with (Y/N), letting Ranboo know what they were doing and the hybrid let them have their moment. Tubbo built a wooden headstone as (Y/N) gathered a few flowers and paused in her work before she got a jukebox to rest next to the headstone. As the last piece of their exhausting work, they made a bench together and both hesitated.

        “I’m…I got a disc, hang on.” He muttered.

        He went back inside to get a disc as (Y/N) stood there, staring at the memorial they had built, cobblestone outlining the area. Tubbo came back, turning a disc in his hand.

        “It’s…not one of his. But I know he’ll appreciate it where ever he is.”

        He put the disc on and stepped back. He motioned to the bench as the music started to play. (Y/N) couldn’t even produce tears as she sat in the middle of the bench, Tubbo on her left. They both stared at the words Tubbo had carved into the wood before (Y/N) spoke.

        “You remember that play he loved?” (Y/N) muttered.

        “Yeah, Hamilton. He managed us all tickets because said he couldn’t live with a daughter who hadn’t seen it.” Tubbo laughed quietly at the memory.

        “There’s a few words that keep playing in my head from one of the songs.” She looked at her hands. “And then we'll teach them how to say goodbye. …Dad never taught me how to say goodbye…”

        “…Well, we’ll make this our last time with…Tommy…and we’ll learn to say goodbye together.”

        (Y/N) put her head on Tubbo’s shoulder and he hugged her close as the jukebox stopped playing.

        “And now it’s quiet uptown…” She mumbled.

        Tubbo couldn’t help a soft smile. Tommy loved that play and (Y/N) had adopted it onto herself, learning every single song just like him. She dozed off on Tubbo’s shoulder and he sat there like that for just a little longer.

        “I’ll make sure it’s not always quiet. I’ll take care of her Tommy. I promise.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

        Days dragged on.

        Tubbo and Ranboo took turns making sure (Y/N) would eat and drink. It was three days before she left her room to walk around. When she was finally walking around again and eating full plates of food, Tubbo decided to start his investigation into Tommy’s death. He promised (Y/N) he’d figure it out and he would, for his, hers, and Tommy’s sake. This shouldn’t have happened and he’ll be damned if it goes unsolved.

        Ranboo was to stay with (Y/N) in Snowchester, just to be sure she’d be alright. He was waiting with breakfast in the morning, Tubbo having gone in the early, early morning, but there was no sign of the teenager after an hour of waiting. Getting up, Ranboo knocked on her door.

        “(Y/N)?” He called softly.

        He thought it was only fair if she was upset in her room. He was still processing the fact one of his friends was gone. There were small tracks of burn marks from when he had cried originally, his tears having run out now after the past few days. He couldn’t imagine though what (Y/N) must feel every day.

        “(Y/N), can you open the door?” He reached out again.

        She still gave him no answer and he sighed.

        “I got to come in, so freak out.”

        He opened the door and looked around the room. Instead, he was the one freaking out as he saw an empty room and an open window.

        “Oh, oh god. Where is she?” He ran to the window, looking out to see slowly fading footprints from the falling snow. “Crap. Ok, I just got to find her.”

        He ran to put on his warm clothes before moving quickly to not lose the tracks. They lead on and on, all the way to the edge of the snowy biome and towards the Dream SMP land.

        “Where did she go?” Ranboo panicked as there was no way to track her from here.

        He’d just have to work his way around the land. There was one place he could think of first, the hotel. Tubbo had told Ranboo that (Y/N) would now be the owner of the hotel according to Sam Nook once she was ok again. It was Tommy’s final project and he assumed she’d be there. So, he ran down the path towards the hotel but sputtered to stop as he saw a familiar figure sitting on a bench with a disc playing in the jukebox next to the bench.

        Ranboo hesitated as they were in their own world as they stared at the rising sun, but he came over because he needed to know.

        “Hey.” He said as he stopped a few steps away.

        (Y/N) jumped as she looked over at him.

        “Oh, hey.” She gave him a weak smile. “I…didn’t really process how late it was, you came looking for me?”

        “Yeah, I did. You had me worried. Luckily, Tubbo was doing something else.” He said as he sat on her right, making her stiffen. “What’s wrong?”

        “I just…dad sat there.”

        “Oh gosh, I’m sorry.” He stood up, instead sitting on her left, making her relax. “Is that why you sit in the middle?”

        She hesitated before nodding. “Tubbo on my left and dad on my right…We’d sit here some days for hours and just…watch the sun go up then down. I couldn’t think of anywhere else better to go…”

        Ranboo nodded, not sure why she needed to go here. Then again, as he looked behind him, of course, there was her old home. A few monuments had been constructed for Tommy.

        “What did you want to do here?” He asked carefully, looking at her as she was watching the skyline again.

        “…It’s stupid.” She muttered standing up.

        “No, no, it’s ok. I won’t judge you. I won’t even write it in my memory book if you don’t want me to.” (Y/N) looked at him and he stood up, towering over her but he crouched a bit as he put his hands on her shoulders. “I would never want to hurt you.”

        (Y/N) sighed as she looked at the bench and jukebox, finished playing the song.

        “Dad…Dad told me he and Uncle Tubbo heard Wilbur, actually Wilbur. And…” She rubbed her arm, shrugging.

        “You wanted to see if Tommy would come.”

        She nodded, a few stray tears coming loose and burning his enderman hand as he wiped them away but he didn’t flinch. “I just…I never got to say goodbye you know? I’ve never lost anyone really. Sure, I lost Uncle Wilbur but then I got Uncle Ghostbur, who was everything I loved before Wilbur went crazy. So, I never lost him. I didn’t have to say goodbye. But with dad…there’s nothing and I just…”

        Ranboo stood up and pulled her close into a hug, she hugging him back as she buried her face in his chest.

        “I just wanted him back one more time so I could tell him I loved him and say goodbye.” She gripped onto his shirt.

        “He knew you loved him; I know he did and he loved you so much. When I first met Tommy, he just kept going on about you and I thought you must be the happiest girl in the world to have such a loving dad like Tommy.” Ranboo muttered as she sniffled. “I wish I could say goodbye to him too…maybe we can do it a bit differently though.” She looked up at him and he gave her a sad smile. “Let’s get some flowers.”

        Together, (Y/N) and he gathered white and red flowers close by and planted them right outside the door. They both stood side by side and (Y/N) looked up at Ranboo at what to do next. Ranboo took a deep breath before stepping forward.

        “There’s…not much I can do so this is how I’m supposed to deal with this. I got some flowers with (Y/N) for you to make this little shrine, to help move on.” Ranboo had so many words to say, some of them cruel about the response of others in the world around them but he held his tongue to repeat them for another time when (Y/N) wasn’t beside him, looking for closure herself. “There’s not really much we can do…with you gone. I know I’m forgetful, but I won’t forget you and I wanted to save this memory of your place like this. I’m sure it won’t be here forever as many things you created…were destroyed. But, the one thing that can’t be broken, that can’t be destroyed…is what you left behind…and the people you left behind.”

        Ranboo looked at (Y/N), seeing her with new tears as she lightly gripped her bandana. He looked at the allium he had in his hands before looking back at the empty house.

        “Remember this? I gave you one of these and you immediately insulted me…That was the first time we interacted.” He remembered, (Y/N) giving a sad laugh. “I gave you one of these, you insulted me, and then…I helped with the thing that led you…to your demise…” It was all quiet as the pair stood there. “So, so here Tommy.” He put the flower on the ground in front of the door. “Have a flower…” They stood silent. “There’s no one there to pick it up anymore…so that means… goodbye Tommy.”

        He stepped back, (Y/N) standing there before walking forward, looking at Ranboo.

        He nodded encouragingly and she took a deep breath.

        “I…I came to the prison after I heard what happened. I…I don’t know if you heard me…but I shouted that I loved you and that I’d make sure you get out. I promised myself that it wouldn’t be like exile. That I’d make sure someone would get you out and Sam promised he would…” She played with her hands. “I could blame a lot of people…but I can’t. All I can blame is Dream. People should have listened but it was Dream’s fault. You always told me that.

        “You did so much for so many different people and people try to prove wrong but I know what you were really like because…you were my dad. You were the best. And…I’m going to miss you so much…There’s so much you didn’t get to teach me. One of them being, you never taught me how to say goodbye. But don’t worry Mr. Hamilton.” She smiled sadly at the door, tears trailing down. “I’ll figure it all out. It may be quiet right now but hopefully, I can hear everything again and remember what it was like to be happy, just for you.”

        She played with her bandana, sighing quietly.

        “I love you so much daddy, and I miss you. I have to say goodbye though, one last time. Till we meet again.”

        She turned from the door and started walking. Ranboo put a hand on her shoulder as he walked with her, neither seeing the figure currently invisible to the human eye.

        Tommy smiled sadly as he picked up a ghost of the flower left in front of him and moved past them, kicking up wind that made (Y/N) bandana dance in the wind. He knew she’d be ok…

[lwt28brave]

LT2 masterpost

If it was up to me, we would get an autumn or winter EP. Since it’s not up to me at all, here, enjoy this post with everything we know so far of LT2, which is to say, not much at all. Everything here is hypothetical. I’ll be updating every time I see something relevant. A little disclaimer that while this is a masterpost (kinda), it could be read as discourse (duh, it’s also a theory), AND it’s also by me, and you shouldn’t expect me to be serious at this point.

Due to me restraining myself, there’s no reference to any of the times he’s mentioned his guitar skills and him improving but I hope you know I cried every single time.

I’m also linking my old pinned here. It was written before AFHF and around the free merch thing that didn’t lead to much, but I still think I made some good points.

Possible tracks:

Copy of a Copy of a Copy

Change

Faith in the future??

369??

Possible names:

369

Faith in the future

When is the album coming out?

Your guess is as good as mine

Friday 28th of January 2022. Almost two years after Walls. It’s a Friday. It’s a 28th. What else can I say?

Here you can find @want-to-be-loved timelines for every month.

Here you can find @berlinini’s timeline of what Louis has been up to this year (2021).

The rest is under the cut. And here you can find a PDF version where Tumblr can't tell me how many pictures I can add.

2020

He said back on May 2th 2020 he wasn’t writing anything new yet.

(x)(x)(x)

Interestingly enough, he’s said many times after that that the album’s not ready cause he has no new experiences to drawn from. I won’t call him out because he does it himself.

May 4th. He liked a tweet from DMA’s Johnny Took saying they had to go write together again. Louis has been credited as an influence for them and (kind of) participated in their previous record, so I’m assuming he meant for their music and not his, but you never know.

Nothing(literally nothing??? how did we survive) until 11th of July. We all know what happened that day. We all celebrated it. Nonetheless, that’s not what I’m talking about here.

(x) So, by the beginning of July 2020 he was working on concepts and ideas for the new album. That was fifteen months ago. I know perfection takes time but…

Brief summary of important things that happened from then until the next mention of new music:

Louis left Syco!!!! 10 days later he rescheduled the tour for the first time. He followed Matt Vines on Twitter, probably so we could publicly shame him into doing something. Also, the 10thanniversary. He followed more people I wish he hadn’t.

Then more nothing until September. Not even a single tweet. The first merch drop was on the 28th of August but he just RT’ed the tweet. He first mentioned Free my Meal on the 25th of September. Then on October 1st Walls hit #1 on a lot of countries and Louis was incredibly happy and excited about it ^^

And then, that same day, October 1st, 2020, he dropped this bomb:

(x)

He also said it was too soon to be sharing new lyrics with us (x)

And, obviously, this tweet which is actually what made me start this whole post. I would hope you know mate.

(x)

He also told us he was cooking "banger after banger" and that he was incorporating more social themes into his music (x)(x) (I believe any social issue is a political issue but that’s not the point rn).

COPY OF A COPY OF A COPY?!?!

These next paragraphs are brought to you by my mind not remembering things and me not having any links. I’m assuming COACOAC came from those writing sessions that supposedly happened in October. Or in LA but I have no idea if he actually was in LA at any point other than a Daily Mail article putting him there on December which would have been too late, but I do remember that someone said he was in the studio in LA last autumn???? A rumor. Maybe. IDK. Did I mention already all of this is very hypothetical?? Well, this is it. I can’t even remember if this was October or November or what. So, take this with a grain of salt.

I’m also… taking the liberty to assume, if you must, that Copy wasn’t meant to be a Walls reject because it sounds more mature and darker and it has a vastly different tone that Walls songs. I know he’s said that song probably isn’t getting into the album, but I want to have faith (in the future) that I’m getting a studio version. (But also, Louis, if you’re reading this, first of all GET OUT OF MY BLOG second of all, please don’t ever feel pressured again to add a song to the album because we have already heard it before. It’s your art and it should always be under your own terms).

So yeah, I believe that Copy is either one of those four songs (then imagine the other three??!!) or was written around the 1st of October date.

---End of the Intermission---

Then not much important (other than sharing more about Marcus Rashford fight against food poverty and the 2nd merch drop) until he announced the livestream on the 24th of November. (x)

It wasn’t until a few days before the livestream date we even thought again about new music (jk, I know we’re always thinking about new Louis’ music). So, December 9th/10th, 2020. Nine months ago. We got our first taste of new music!

He made sure we knew Copy of a Copy of a Copy isn't a cover! (x) (x)

(x)

Ok, so that’s it for 2020. (I feel like I’m missing something from September 17th because tweet was deleted but maybe he was still talking about cucumbers. We might never know. Unless I understand how Tumblr tags work). Expected, cause Walls was released in 2020. We needed to let it sit for a while.

2021

Another Summary: Louis third tweet of the year was telling the UK government off. So was the fifth. What a good beginning. On the 26th of January, he said he prefers pancakes over waffles. I hope he meant pancakes other than his own. More importantly, he tweeted the infamous “you lot read into things too much”. Don’t get me started, Tomlinson. Don’t. Then the 31st came around and Walls was one. He tweeted this. How wise. And Project Defenceless happened!!

15th of February!! Who cares about Valentine Day when the next day we got this? ♥

(x)

(x)

So…AN EP?? AN EP?? PLEASE RELEASE AN EP.

“I’m sure I will have something out this year but unlikely that will be the album”. Unlikely but not impossible. Also. A single would be good. This is the second time he mentions releasing something in 2021 and he sounds surer about it than the first time around.

He also said that he isn’t sure we will get a studio version of Copy. And that the best bridges from Walls to LT2 are Walls, OTB, KMM and Copy. Can’t wait!

Then we jump to March 6th when he announced he was going to create his own management company. “Sometimes action is needed first to encourage the motivation and belief”. As we can tell he was already manifesting some stuff which will lead us to the numerology stuff/Tesla… kidding. Or not. We might never know.

On the 22nd of March he answered some questions:

He told us music was still his main focus ♥ mwha. (x) I included this tweet to guilt-trip him into giving us music in case he’s reading this even after I told him to leave. ILY.

(x) I’d love to get a visual EP this autumn. Just saying. It sounds like a lovely concept.

(x)

…next (I will get into it, I promise. I’m just mad).

On the 25th he left for Mexico until April 10th. You could assume it was just for the documentary where we got ten seconds of footage or admit the obvious: LT2 its a Mexican baby!!

On the 26th (so, not so far apart from that first 369) we got the first Faith in the Future mention: (x)

Back then we were innocent people who had no idea what was coming upon us. We still have no idea because what the fuck does he mean with these. Please explain. I have one braincell and I don’t use it enough for this. I’m linking some theories.

On the 30th of March he confirmed he was already working on the documentary. So AFHF was already on the works. Will it take this long for us to get the Veeps numbers? We also got this tweet: "Got a decent chorus idea down" (x).

Same person that got the “something out this year” exclusive. If you know something share with the class. Also. Is this Change? I feel like this could be Change but I also assume he wrote Change after hanging out with his friends or being in Doncaster. But who knows.

(x) And the second mention to 369.

(x) 15th of April. The second "Faith in the future".

On the 19th of April he announced that he had something BIG for us later on the year which turned out to be the Away From Home Festival ♥♥ (x) I love him so much.

Then on the 28th he announced the 369 merch drop (which it’s probably the Walls drop? Except that the TOU and KMM ones were “drop 1 and drop 2” and this was drop 369 which, again, makes no sense) but we still don’t know what 369 means.

Into May’ 21 we go.

He rescheduled tour again. And dropped another bomb (x).

He announced he has signed with BMG as an independent artist by RTing this tweet on May 10th. The article also says that he’s already working on writing and recording LT2. The timing… we don’t know. What this deal involves… we don’t know either. Bear with me here because I have a lot to say about this.

I think the deal is only a distribution one, but that BMG are interested in Louis and what he (us) could bring to the table. They were either present at the festival or watching it, but officially they had no involvement at all with it (everything is credited either to Louis own company, 78 Productions, or Charlie Lightening’s company). That’s the case for both giveaways too; the vinyl one and the tickets for the festival.

I think it would be an unbelievably bad move not to test the waters with BMG now or soon-ish. At least a single, to see how it performs. Due to the circumstances, it’s obvious there’re certain limitations on place but I want to see how they push it, whether the radio play exist this time around and if the song is playlisted and promoted and all that… I would also love to know, since it says he signed with BMG UK, but it also states it’s a global deal, how things are going to go on the US and other countries.

Yes, yes. I know those are all questions and no answers. But I know the same as you, sadly. If any of you know more than you’re letting on… again, share with the class.

Where was I? Yes, on the 25th of May Louis had a great day writing (x). Since the first time he had mentioned he was officially writing to this date there’s almost eight months. And I believe he was writing before October’ 20.

He followed Robert Harvey that day and, on the 28th of May (why is it always the 28th???) he was spotted at the studio for the first time.

June was an interesting month for the fandom ♥. Lots of LHL content which I will love and cherish for the rest of times. On June 4th, June 9th, and June 10th he was spotted at the studio, but I believe he was there more days.

(x)

This was posted on June 6th and captioned Studio. Charlie also shared it with “Mega tunes being put down, can’t wait for this @louist91 #louistomlinson #LT2” as the caption. This gives me 2019 (Elton-Joint) vibes. I like it. Feels like we’re getting closer to something.

He added the Milano date on the 9th too which I’m mentioning because I’m going alone. Anyone wanna go with me please? I’m nice and I never eat anything before a concert so you can have my food. On other news. It didn’t come home.

During July he was at the studio at least three days too. Probably more. Feels like more with all the fan pictures we got. Or was that June? Anyway, July 1st and 9th we got some videos from Robert Harvey and wearesuperhi, which is who Louis has been working with the most, that we know of. I don’t know for sure they’re from that day. And on July 5th we got an article and lots of pictures of Louis looking really good outside the studio.

On the 12th of July the first fans started getting the free, 369 bucket hat and print. We still don’t know what the purpose was other than to thanks fans. Maybe that was it. I want answers and I still think it relates to a future project (see theories above), but it could also just be a bridge with the Walls breaking.

He didn’t tweet about anything interesting for a while, mostly because he lost his phone (he either throwed it in the air or smashed it who knows). Then on the 29th of July he announced the festival!

I’m glossing over it because there’s already been a lot of talk about it (rightfully) and while it was a wonderful thing, it doesn’t have much to do with LT2.

Let’s talk Change!

On August 3rd he tweeted this about the setlist.

(x)

And this (x) on the 28th! I can’t stand him.

We didn’t get it, obviously. Because who was going to get that. But we read too much into things. Alright.

On the 16thof August Dave Gibson shared this post tagged #LT2 with the eyes emojis 👀👀👀. I believe this has to do both with Change but also with whatever else came out of that Mexico trip.

(x) Last relevant tweet related to LT2 is this one.

So, on the 30th of August we got Change and we cried, and we know that Change is going in the new album. He said it. With those exact words. He also said he was “getting a feeling for it”. This has to meant he already has a general idea of the vibe of the new album and what’s going in it!!!!!! (Right? RIGHT?).

Anyway, let’s go back a few weeks because some other things happened on August. He was at the studio a few more times. Or it was suggested that he was there. On the 17th and the 18th. (Why was it so time-pressing to be at the studio instead of rehearsing for the festival? There was no studio at all on the documentary. Which makes sense, but again, then why?).

On the day of the festival we got another mention of Faith in The Future that made me feel part of a cult ngl. The words were flashing on the screen for less than a second. Okay.

And then he tweeted those words again after watching the livestream/documentary on the 4th of September (x). This is what makes me suspect it's either the name of the album or of the single.

On the same day, we got some interesting quotes about LT2 on the documentary.

“Soon I’ll have to think about me second album, which in my head I’ll get the tour out of the way and then I’ll address that. So, I hadn’t really given it much thought, to be honest”.

“When every day is the same is hard to feel creative and it’s hard to have any kind of proper inspiration”.

“As season started to come back, I started writing again and it was great and some of these songs turned out alright”.

And I think this is it. I might be overlooking some important details but that’s what we know and what we don’t know.

So. Conclusions. That’s what you missed on Glee. I do believe the album is, if not mostly done, partially there. And yes, this post is pointless and never-ending but it’s all in here if you need to tell Louis “Hey, you said this, mate”.

[daemon-in-my-head]

Since I'm very not okay about durgetash and have an unholy obsession with tassles (they're not only fun to play with, they are also just pretty.) lemme dive further into that idea, if I already deliver the delulu I might as well expand on it and share my tassle knowledge. Also because I'm now positively obsessed with the idea.

So where I'm from, we still have shooting clubs. They come with uniforms, medals, etc etc. There's no actual hierarchy or smth, but we do have tassles. In our case, you get them for specific achievements and for being a member for a while. For example, for 5, 10, 20 years, etc. They're tied to a shash that is fixed to the front of the uniforms jacket on the right side. That way, you can immediately spot how long someone has been a member and what they may have already done for the club, or in other words, how respecyful especially you should be. They're awarded yearly at a big celebration where all sorts of awards are handed out and the years most skilled archer is crowned king/queen. Funnily enough though, being a king or queen won't get you a tassle, only a plate to be fixed to ur house and a medal on the necklace that is passed down from each "sovereign" to the next one in the following year. The honour of a tassle goes beyond simply being the best archer (side note, this explains so much about my culture).

But since I can't be normal about anything, there's other fun instances where tassles are used, here's a few I could find easily and or remember cuz I like them:

In the Hebrew bible, they're a sign of holiness and used by the faithful to remember their commandments.

In the Middle East, they function as talismans, especially to protect children from malevolent spirits and to ward off demons.

Meanwhile, in China, they're symbols of auspiciousness, wealth, and good luck, where as in Japan, they're closely tied to specific shinto gods.

In general, tassles are often used as decoration for clothing but also for talismans and the likes, and they're usually tied to things such as remembrance, honour, luck, protection, I could go on for days. Tassles are pretty much universally seen as a symbol of something inherently good. And they're pretty, and you can make them from any string so they're widely accessible. The rich can use em but so can the less fortunate ones.

In regards to the hairpin; I love the idea that he just stowed it away in a safe place but takes it out regularly to fidget with it for a plethora of reasons. It's just perfection, and I can't add further to it.

Also, my fav oc to ship with the racoon man has a sort of necklace with bronze tassles because I love tassles and mirroring small details in designs. And torturing myself by drawing tassles. Bonus points because a demigod of murder just sat down for hours, crafting little intricate tassles, perhaps even to redeem himself for doing something unhinged that drove Gortash mad. This may have just become a plotline. It became a plotline. Fuck.

OK first of all:

Leaving this in the tags is a crime @sipsoftea

Secondly, let me amp the delulu cuz I've got a tadpole now:

Durge is no smith, he probably tried for the shits and giggles once but he's just really not cut out for that. What he can do however is sew. He knows how to stitch up wounds and all, Needlework is his thing. Those tassles on Gorty's belt? Guess where he got them. Maybe even the twirled string that keeps the dragon insignia in place. It's small, but the person that crafted them must've undoubtedly been very careful in doing so. The tassles are even red. The one color both Bhaalists and Banites have in common. Also passion, love, blood, yada yada

Also for the sake of fall back, Durge got some money cuz assasin business be booming (and theft) so Gortash now has long hair before he begins his shonen MC haircut arc and Durge fr fr got him a hair pin.

[lifeofkaze]

Valentine's Challenge 2022 - Day 5

Prompt: Heartbreak

HPHM Rockstar AU

A/N: I love breaking Lizzie's and Orion's hearts (oops) but this time, make it Rockstar. This story is happening BEFORE the beginning of When Stars Ignite and the affair between Lizzie and Orion hasn't happened yet - no one is hypocritical or cheating here!

The title song is breaking with our rule to only choose rock songs, but this version is the one that inspired this whole scene out of nowhere so... bear with me.

General Warning: The whole Rockstar fic has a general warning of being NSFW / 18+. We have given specific warnings for every chapter in itself, but several adult themes have been more or less present in every chapter, may it be explicitly or in mention, and they will do so in this bonus chapter, too. These include sexual topics, drug abuse, (ab)use of alcohol, smoking and a whole lot of cursing.

Specific Warning: none

~~~

If you would like to read the whole fic, you can find the masterpost here.

Find all stories of this challenge in the masterpost here.

~~~

The Rockstar AU is a collaboration with @the-al-chemist

Taglist: @slytherindisaster @night-rhea @carewyncromwell @thatravenpuffwitch @anthamariemayfair @whatwouldvalerydo

Your faith was strong but you needed proof

You saw her bathing on the roof

Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you

She tied you to a kitchen chair

She broke your throne, and she cut your hair

And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah

~ Leonard Cohen - Hallelujah ~

One year prior…

It was the evening before Valentine’s Day and Lizzie was bored. As a happily single woman she should be out and about on the streets of London, celebrating her independence and freedom with good music and strong drinks. But instead, she had been stuck in the big old house in Kensington belonging to Ethan Parkin with the other members of their band for the better part of her day.

Their latest album Beneath a Burning Sky, which had celebrated a spectacular release several weeks ago, had been doing even better than anticipated and they were considering adding more shows to their upcoming tour.

“If we tighten the travel time, I don’t see any reason not to play additional shows in Poland,” Ethan was insisting on his ambitious new schedule. “We could even make a side-trip to the Baltic countries.”

“Sure, cut our time-off even more,” Merula muttered. “Why the fuck not? We might as well sleep on stage at this point.”

Ethan scowled at her. “Do you want to show the world your work or not? If you- Okay, whose fucking phone is this?”

The vibrations of a phone had cut through Ethan’s lecture, like it had done several times already. Ethan’s scowl deepened when he saw Orion taking his phone out of his pocket. He frowned at it and started to type a message.

“Are we boring you, Orion?”

Orion looked up to find Ethan glaring at him. “We are a team, so none of us stands above the other. How could I not take an interest in what is decided tonight?”

“Because it bloody well looks like texting some trivial shit is more important to you than listening to me. Put that fucking phone away or I’ll do it for you.”

Orion arched an eyebrow but put his phone back into his pocket, nonetheless. Lizzie thought that he was looking tense but when she leaned over to him to ask if he was alright, Ethan narrowed his eyes at her and she quickly sat upright again.

Lizzie and the other band members had agreed to celebrate Lizzie moving into a new place after their meeting, so when Ethan finally let them go, they all made the short trip into Chelsea sharing a minivan cab. Most of them were chatting and laughing; only Orion was keeping out of the conversation. He was sunk deep into his seat, his whole concentration fixed onto the phone in his hand.

Lizzie was burning to know what was bothering him, but she was too busy showing her friends around her new home to think about Orion. It was only when she excused herself to go find the menu of the Thai delivery service around the corner that she noticed she hadn’t seen Orion in a while.

Standing between her kitchen door and the hallway, Lizzie frowned. It was close to midnight - Valentine’s Day, she thought, not without rolling her eyes - and they had been working most of the day. Orion had probably just gone home to see his girlfriend. It was unlike him to just leave without saying goodbye, but then again, he had been strange for the better part of the day.

Pushing her thoughts about Orion aside, Lizzie searched her kitchen drawers for the menu. She couldn’t find it anywhere until she remembered that she had looked through it while watching a movie in bed yesterday, so was probably still lying on her nightstand.

As she stepped into her bedroom, she frowned; the door to the room stood slightly ajar and a cold breeze came from the open window. She went to close it and realised with a jolt that someone was standing outside on the small balcony.

Orion was leaning on the wrought iron railing on his forearms. It was freezing outside, but he didn’t seem to notice; instead, he was staring at the curtain of cold rain dripping down from the roofs across the street. He had his phone in his hands, but when it lit up, he didn’t look at it.

“What are you doing out here?” Lizzie asked and stood next to him. The floor was icy beneath her feet.

“Fate meant well with you when it bestowed this beautiful new home on you,” Orion said instead of answering her question .

“That had less to do with fate and more with a really good estate agent.”

Orion laughed softly. “Be that as it may, you were fortunate to find this place. And with a balcony on top.”

“So you had to go and check it out?”

“I needed a moment of solitude,” Orion said and bowed his head. A flicker of sadness seemed to pass over his features as his phone lit up a second time; he still wasn’t looking at it. “I’m sorry if I overstepped my mark by coming here.”

“It’s fine,” Lizzie shrugged. “It’s not like I have anything to hide.”

“You don’t? What about these?” Orion nodded at a bucket standing in the corner of the balcony. It contained a big bouquet of dark red roses. “Do you have any plans for tomorrow you haven’t shared with us?”

Lizzie had to laugh. “They’re not for me,” she snickered, “and I don’t mean to send them to anyone either. Not in the way that you think, at least. I’m going to post them to Skye first thing tomorrow, with a card signed by Erika.”

If Orion was surprised he didn’t show it. “Like the two poles of a magnet, the attraction between them is not to be denied.”

“I’m sick of Skye complaining about Erika all the time,” Lizzie agreed. “You should hear her, Rath here, Rath there - she’s driving me insane. I figured, why not push their luck a little?”

Orion arched an eyebrow. “Your willingness to bring two hearts together is admirable, but don’t you think they should be allowed to find each other on their own terms and at their own pace?”

“Not if I have to watch them dance around each other a second longer. All this sneaking around must be so exhausting. They just need a little push, that’s all.”

“As magnificent as they are now, your roses won’t make much of an impression if you don’t get them inside soon. They are flowers made for summer and thrive in warmth and sunlight. Out in this cold, their petals will break and their beauty wane.” His expression was sad and he held out his hand, catching one of the drops falling from the roof edge above them in his palm. “No one likes the cold much.”

“Then why are you out here?” Lizzie wanted to know, stepping from one foot to the other to keep warm. It had been meant as a joke, but when she saw Orion hang his head, she stopped hopping around and stood closer to him. “You must be freezing.”

“I am,” Orion admitted, “but the cold numbs the head as well as the heart.”

“Dramatic. Have you ever considered writing songs?” Lizzie was happy to see a smile appear on Orion’s face, but it was only short-lived. “Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?” Orion didn’t reply, but Lizzie noticed that he had stopped turning his phone between his hands and was now holding it tightly. “Is this about all the texts you’ve been getting tonight?”

“You’re perceptive,” Orion said. Lizzie expected some elaborate comparison or train of thought to follow, but Orion had fallen silent again. He was looking so sad it hurt Lizzie to see him like this.

“You look like heartbreak if I’ve ever seen one, and I’ve seen my share,” she said, not without a touch of bitterness. “If that harpy you’re seeing is -”

“Don’t call her that,” Orion said immediately but it sounded half-heartedly. “None of this is her fault.”

“Then it’s yours?”

Orion shook his head. “It’s no one’s fault and everyone’s.” Upon seeing Lizzie’s confused expression, he sighed deeply. “She’s not happy that I’m here tonight.”

“No one’s keeping you here,” Lizzie said, mildly irritated at his words. “You can always go home if that makes her feel better.”

Truth be told, Lizzie had never been a fan of Orion’s girlfriend. They had met at an event a little over a year ago and had started a whirlwind romance shortly after. They had been happy for a while, but lately, Lizzie had noticed Orion getting more and more quiet when it came to his relationship. It was no wonder; his girlfriend had never understood what being a musician - truly living for and through music - actually meant. When Orion spoke again, Lizzie found her suspicions to be confirmed.

“She is hurt that I keep spending time with all of you outside of rehearsals,” he explained and sounded tired. “She doesn’t understand that we don’t have a job you leave behind at the office to go home and forget about it. Music is everything. It’s who I am.” He shook his head and brushed the hair that had fallen into his eyes from his face.

“The band is you,” Lizzie said quietly and felt Orion’s pain; they had all been in his position at one point or another. “Your music is part of your soul. You can’t separate these things. She should have thought of that before she got involved with you.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe she thought she knew, but didn’t. We will never know. We can only deal with the cards dealt to us at present.”

Lizzie made a non-descriptive noise but her answer was cut short when the phone in Orion’s hand buzzed again. He took a quick look at the screen and then sighed deeply. “Although it seems that my hand has just changed.”

Without another word he held his phone out for Lizzie to take. She hesitated before reading the message flashing up on the lockscreen.

I don’t care if it’s important or not. I’m too good for this. If you’re not home by midnight we’re done. Them or me, your call.

“Ouch,” she said and handed him the phone back. “I’m sorry. It’s unfair of her to ask such a decision from you.”

“It’s her prerogative. Sharing the life we lead is not easy,” Orion answered levelly but Lizzie heard the strain in his voice.

“What are you going to do?”

Orion took a moment to answer. “I think my head and heart want different things.”

“And which is which?”

He laughed quietly, but it sounded bitter. “I’m still here, am I?”

“You really love her, don’t you?” Lizzie said and the pain on Orion’s face stung inside her heart.

“I do. But I love our band equally as much. You are my family. How am I to choose between who I love and who I am? If I gave up one for the other, who would that make me?”

“There is no right answer to that,” Lizzie said sadly. “But sometimes love means letting go, even if it hurts.”

Orion’s phone buzzed again, but this time it was an incoming call. He froze and took a long, contemplative look at the picture of a pretty blonde coming up on his screen before rejecting the call and switching off his phone.

“Looks like I’ll be spending Valentine’s Day on my own this year,” he said and looked so defeated that Lizzie reached out to lay a hand on his arm.

“I’m so sorry,” she said softly, “but you don’t have to be alone if you don’t want to. There’s still me, and the others, too.” She bent down and picked one of the roses meant for Skye out of the bucket and held it out to Orion with a comforting smile. “Here, for the heartbreak.”

Orion smiled sadly and took the rose from her, spinning the stem between his fingers. He looked at the dark red petals thoughtfully.

“A rose by any other name…,” he mumbled, more to himself than anything.

“Always the poet, huh?”

“There is no shame in employing the masters’ words if your own fail you.” Orion didn’t look at her, but his smile wasn’t as sad anymore. It vanished again when he gently touched the soft petals of the rose with one finger. “I don’t seem to have any words of my own left tonight, I’m sorry.”

“That’s a first,” Lizzie said and nudged Orion into his side with her elbow when she saw that a small smile was spreading on his face again.

The sharp ping of an incoming text cut through the silence. This time, it was Lizzie’s phone. She took it out and quickly glanced at it.

“Skye wants to know where the fuck we are. They’re getting pizza now.”

“We have kept our friends waiting long enough,” Orion conceded with a small bow of his head. “Maybe we should go back inside. They will wonder as to why we’re coming out of your bedroom.”

“What business would you and I have in my bedroom,” Lizzie laughed. “Let them think what they want. We don’t have to go back if you don’t want to. I’m fine freezing together with you.”

Lizzie thought Orion wanted to protest, but he changed his mind and nodded gratefully. It had stopped raining and a gap in the clouds revealed a bright and full moon. A few streets away the clock of Chelsea Old Church chimed midnight. Lizzie leaned her head against Orion’s shoulder.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“To you as well,” he answered, and Lizzie thought she could hear a smile in his voice. “And thank you.”

“Whatever for.”

“For being my friend.”

Lizzie smiled and neither of them spoke anymore. Instead, they stood next to each other and enjoyed the comfortable silence, watching the raindrops falling from the roofs glittering in the silver moonlight like the stars falling down on Earth.

[attractive-nuisance-esq]

Here’s the thing: After 15x18 - after Castiel’s confession - I will be devastatingly heartbroken with any ending less than a full, explicitly romantic relationship between him and Dean.

Let’s be clear: If they hadn’t had Cas confess, I wouldn’t be terrified about what they’re going to give to us on Thursday night. We’d all made our peace with Destiel never going canon. We never, ever in a million years expected to actually get it. All of us shippers were content to live with what we got on screen, determined to see it live on in our fanfiction, with faith in the fandom to tell the story of Dean and Castiel. We were fine. We were excited! The ending of any show is a momentous occasion, but the ending of this one? With this fandom family? After this long? No matter what happened, it was going to be something we’d cherish forever.

Instead, in the third-to-last episode of all time, Supernatural gave us a confession of love from one of its most beloved characters to the hero of the story. And we all lost our minds. Quite rightfully! We never, ever thought it would happen - no matter how much sub there has been in the text over the last 12 years. You know why? Because of Disney.

We’re used to the Disney version of LGBTQ representation. The kind where about a month before a movie comes out, we see a flurry of articles published about how there will be a “gay character” in it - somehow always for the first time. And the character is always gay; nobody cares enough to draw any distinctions within the community. All of human sexuality that isn’t purely straight is purely gay. *cue the eyerolls* And maybe the first time we got a little excited. (Probably not, but go with me here for a sec.) Maybe for Beauty and the Beast, we thought, “Oh, LeFou was kind of a fun character in the cartoon version. Maybe it’ll be cool to see him have a crush!” But always and inevitably, the “representation” is one of two equally hurtful things: 1) the character’s sexuality is bluntly on display, but it’s a source of ridicule for the person, and the audience is encouraged to laugh at it “with” the character (o hai, LeFou); or 2) the scene is less than two seconds long, or the character is unnamed, or the circumstances of the “representation” are such that they can easily be cut from the project for foreign audiences or swept under the rug in the minds of viewers who’d rather not admit that queer people exist (what up, Star Wars and Endgame?).

And that shit really fucking hurts. We’re told to shut up and be grateful, even enthusiastic that mainstream fiction media noticed we’re here at all. But we’re never main characters. Our stories are never told. This part of our identity is not only left unexplored; it is so exploited for woke points as to be made the single most defining thing about us. It’s offensive, over and over again, to have us included solely because of how we are different.

It fucking hurts.

Things are changing, slowly. We’re starting to get some deeper, three-dimensional representation in television and film. It’s not all starting out in 2005 on the same network that brought us 7th Heaven anymore. My niece is 14-years-old and out, and she will never remember a time when she had to scour the Internet to see queer versions of her favorite characters; she just has them. But all of us adults, well... chances are, our journeys have the potential to look a lot like Dean’s. We didn’t get to come out in high school. We didn’t let our younger selves think too hard about what we knew in our hearts would make us happy. It took us longer to arrive at a place of security and safety in order to be able to admit to ourselves and others who we are. Hell, the whole damn process of recognizing human sexuality is fluid might have taken us years!

Us queer adults - the ones who have been watching and loving Supernatural for longer than its younger audience - can now taste the possibility of seeing something that probably looks a lot like our very own romantic and personal experiences in Dean Winchester. We’ve been celebrating bi!Dean for years on our own, picking up the crumbs the writers give us and clutching them tightly, because what a gift it would be to see this good man, this hero as one of our own! And now... we’re so close to actually seeing it. On screen. For real and for sure.

These last two weeks have been incredibly difficult. We’re ecstatic! Wildly so! What other kind of reaction would we have to the writers allowing Castiel to admit these feelings we’ve all thought would only ever exist in our heads? But we are equally anxious, wary, and - quite frankly - battling hopelessness. Supernatural doesn’t have a great track record with these things. Everyone on Tumblr - even those that don’t watch this show - is well aware that this one is the master of queerbaiting. And then there’s Disney banging around in our skulls, a psychological trauma sounding again like an alarm. We’ve been burned so many times before, by other mainstream media and by Supernatural itself. It feels crazy to hope. I don’t know how many times I’ve watched the confession scene; I still can’t believe it’s real. A male-shaped main character said “I love you” to another male-shaped main character. It can’t be cut out and ignored, or brushed aside as platonic. It wasn’t a joke at the expense of queerness. It happened. It was big, and it was right there.

And now we are so, so close. Fuck.

That’s why if Supernatural doesn’t follow through and give us Dean and Cas unequivocally in love in the final 42 minutes of this beautiful, ridiculous, wonderful, preposterous, absolutely WILD show, it’ll just completely fucking break me. It will be the worst kind of tease, the deepest cut buried in the briniest salt. If they hadn’t given us Castiel’s confession, we’d have no expectations. But they did. And now, if they don’t deliver after all that’s been said and done...

...it will utterly shatter my fragile little bisexual heart into a million fucking pieces.

[sd1d-enthusiast]

Mr Queen Ending: A Queer Baiting Disaster

Have not felt so utterly devastated about a show since Game of Thrones Season 8 

I loved this show, okay? I waited eagerly for every episode, I laughed, I cried, I put it down into my "all time favorites." I was so ready to give it a 10 rating. And now I don't think I can ever re-watch it after how the ending completely ERASED and NEGATED the journey of the first 19 episodes. Much like how Game of Thrones Season 8 managed to destroy the previous masterpiece seasons, the ending of this show—literally the last thirty minutes—managed to completely unravel and make the previous 19 episodes utterly meaningless. Utterly pointless. Spoilers ahead:

This ending is garbage. Pure fucking garbage. I don't understand how ANYONE can like an ending like this without completely deluding themselves. I'm mindblown at the amount of ppl going "it was a great ending, it tied everything up!" HOW? The person who the king fell in love with and the person who ends up with the king are TWO COMPLETELY DIFFERENT PEOPLE. The king will live the rest of his life as a lie, with a person he never spared a second glance to before in his life. Bong Hwan will live the rest of his life knowing that history could be changed and yet someone ELSE got to live and love the man he fell in love with.

This whole drama, we followed BONG HWAN'S story, his growth, his fears, the way he progressed as a character, the way he fell in love with the king. Yet in the end, Bong Hwan was nothing but a stepping stone for So Yong to take his place. His journey and character growth became nothing but a means to someone else's happiness.

I don't think people understand. This isn't a happy ending. The one who the king fell in love with (bong hwan) is NO LONGER THERE. He's left with nothing. So yong, a complete stranger to us, is the one who gets the happy ending. Bong Hwan, who actually experienced everything with the king....becomes a side character to his own story.

This was one of my favorite dramas of all time, but this ending managed to erase every bit of rewatch quality for me. It erased every meaningful interaction between our leads bc at the end one of the leads is ERASED and replaced by someone who experienced NONE of what made those two people fall in love with each other. It feels like a slap on the face for everyone who rooted for the actual relationship between the Mr Queen who we came to love and know and the King.

If they wanted to have the ending be with the real So Yong and the King, then they should have had So Yong as the main character. Not Bong Hwan in her body. They could have played with the "they are each other's reincarnation" theory or the "the two people fused into one mind" theory. Anything would have been better than this farce. The king fell in love with the Mr Queen who was strange, wacky, a modern thinker, a feminist, liberal, a little bit crazy. The Mr Queen who walked like a man and who taught him strange words, the one who told him that he was a good man and a good king, the person who helped the king find faith and hope in the nightmare he was living. That was all Bong Hwan. Not So Yong.

And everyone seems to be ignoring that So Yong is now literally doing what Hwa Jin did to Choel Jong lying about who she really is and pretending to be someone else. We all hated Hwa Jin for lying and trying to replace the Queen, but now what? She knows she's not the person who the king fell in love with. The king still thinks that the woman he's speaking to is someone else. They're both living a lie. The same thing is happening, but because it's the original woman we're supposed to applaud for it? Think it makes everything fine? Insanity.

I can't help but think that some of the people celebrating this ending and saying that it's better that So-yong, the woman who the king did not fall in love with, got to be with the King over the man who he did fall in love with are closet homophobes who would rather have a completely different female character end up with the king rather than the man who was at the heart of this show. At the very least, the show producers probably thought that. This whole show feels like one massive queer bait and the ending hurts more than I can say.

The first 19 episodes would have been a clear 10/10. If only the last episode hadn't completely negated those 19 episodes. If only.

I haven't felt so devastated since Game of Thrones Season 8. It feels like a slap on the face after all the feelings I and other viewers invested in this story, in BONG HWAN's story, only to be paid dust. The person the King fell in love with, the one who understood him and the one who he tried so hard to understand, know, and love....is gone. The Bong Hwan who was at the heart of this story is GONE. Erased and replaced in his OWN STORY. 

This isn't a happy ending; it's a tragedy.

My original review can be found here on mydramalist.