#sad. but good excuse to take a real solid break from all the others and wrap that up i guess

[fruityumbrella]

hm do you think that working simultaneously on 4 different WIPs will end up confusing you, the flow, and the vibe? much to ponder...

[highlordofkrypton]

batman equalizer au // the knight from nowhere - chapter 4 - update

READ ON AO3.

SUMMARY: Bruce Wayne is dead. In the wake of his death, he leaves a trail of bodies and the ruins of a city. He can’t do this anymore; he can’t be a man who uses justice as an excuse for violence, so he leaves it all behind. Now, a nobody in a nowhere town, he starts to like his mundane life—no heroism, no villains and no pain—until one day, injustice finds him. Heroes aren’t real, but sometimes, all people need is a knight.

Chapter 4 - bad days

Not all days are good. Some weeks are shit.

The robbery lingers on his mind, rehearsed over and over to see if he missed anything. He left the cash, but made sure to return the bracelet and the hammer. He should’ve hidden his face, but he’s not anybody anymore, and the culprit won’t talk. In a place like Gotham, crimes are to be expected, along with the Dark Knight who avenges its people. Anywhere else? People don’t want to believe in ghosts, much less find out they’re real.

I have to break this fucking habit, he snarls to himself, staring out the window of the bus.

More often than not, his mind keeps slipping into the past—events that are now over, or even worse, a distant past of a life he cannot recognize anymore. He doesn’t even know the man he’s become, other than a fraud. The nagging feeling in his chest, is it longing? Not for his old name or his old fame, but for the violence. It felt good to wield righteousness, to make justice happen with his two hands.

Fuck.

Maybe he is addicted.

A low growl escapes his throat before he can help it, noting a familiar form waiting outside at the bus stop. Clark stupidly lets everyone on before him. The bus is already packed, so much that all Bruce can smell is the moisture of people and someone’s chips. The reporter jogs to the back door and slips in, right in front of Bruce. For a moment, Bruce wonders if he should try and sink behind the railing, but it’s too late. That damned smile is being flashed in his direction and the earphones are coming out.

He swore he wasn’t going to let anyone in. Not in this life. These are good people—hell, there are good people everywhere—and he gets good people killed. It’s all he’s good for.

“Bruce! Heading home?” Clark beams at him.

Well, it’s not like there’s anything Bruce can do.

“Yeah.”

“It’s pretty packed today.”

“Mhm.”

The lack of a response always deters Clark; it’s Bruce that’s a problem, feeling guilty for the nice neighbour who keeps trying despite the distance Bruce wedges between them. It wells up inside him, and he suppresses a soft sigh.

“Did you have a nice day at work?” 

And just like that, the giant stops his sad wilt to grin again. “Sure did!” That’s all it takes to get him chatting away about everything that’s happened. He asks Bruce questions in turn, and this time even if his responses are short and clipped, he knows that Bruce isn’t against conversation. Not entirely.

Listening grounds him, and it keeps him out of the past. Turns out, there is a bright side to being soft.

“Did you know in Ireland, there’s a fish school for seals?”

“What?”

Alright, there’s a chance Bruce tuned out a little because he has no idea how they got here, talking about seals in Ireland. 

“Baby seals that are abandoned often don’t get to learn how to eat solids, so the rescue centers have to teach them how to hunt. Basically, they fill a tub with fish and cheer the baby on until it understands what to do with the fish. I learned that today. I was covering the school fair over at Gardener Elementary.” He grins. Clark is a well of fun facts. It comes with his job—reporter for human interest stories. Bruce can’t think of a better person for the task.

“That sounds cute. I’m more of a bat person myself. Have you—”

“Seen them eat fruit? Of course, I have! They’re my favourite videos, all swaddled up in a blanket.”

Bruce’s laughter is a low rumble in his chest. What’s he going to do? Lie to Clark and pretend animals are the worst? He can’t beat the guy, so might as well join them. He’ll keep pretending conversations are harmless. They’re just superficial words exchanged by two neighbours.

The bus glides towards their stop, and Bruce notes the gaggle of teens and children outside the bus stop. He squeezes past the person sitting next to him and hops out with Clark. It seems the friendly neighbourhood giant has also noticed.

“Jason, are you smoking?”

One of the kids dressed in a red sweater, the hood pulled up, turns to glare at them. A cigarette is clenched between his teeth, and his companions fuck off, quick like a scatter shot. Out of the hoodie’s shadow, the edges of a blooming bruise is revealed around his eye.

“Jason,” Clark breathes, his tone akin to an ache. This man, he feels too much, but it isn’t Bruce’s place to tell him that. “What happened? Who did this to you?” He kneels to meet the boy’s eyes, but Jason steps back, putting space between them.

“Fuck you! You’re not my dad!”

The anger isn’t really directed towards Clark. The flush on Jason’s face is telling; he was embarrassed in front of his friends, and there has to be some lingering anger from whoever hit him. Bruce says nothing.

“I didn’t say I was, but I can help you.”

“I don’t need your help! If you touch me, I’ll scream.”

Clark flinches at the threat, hurt. He probably hasn’t ever laid a hand on anyone, much less a child. It’s a cruel thing for Jason to do—for him to take out his pain on an innocent.

“Enough,” Bruce growls. “Cigarette.” He holds his hand out.

Jason bares his teeth and spits it at him. It doesn’t get very far, landing on Clark’s knee and Clark swats it off quickly. Jason takes off running. He’ll be back eventually. He has nowhere else to go.

A long sigh escapes Clark as he stands, still dusting his pants off. It’s stained, but he’s more broken up about Jason getting hurt and refusing help.

“I’ll pay you back for the pants.”

“It’s fine. It’s not your fault. I have other pairs at home.” Clark tries to smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s worried. “It’s the Visage. They send him on errands sometimes.”

“Makes sense. Cops won’t look into kids.”

“It’s not right. Someone should stand up to them.”

The Visage is the city’s worst kept secret: a hierarchical criminal organization with pockets around the world. Jason and his mother are caught up with the group’s lower echelons, but the fear of the bigger players keeps everyone in line, including law enforcement. In another life—

Not this life.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Kent.”

“They say the pen is mightier than the sword.”

“Those are the words of someone who’s about to do something mighty stupid.”

“He’s just a kid.”

“And you are just one man.”

“Change has to start somewhere.”

“And why should it be with you?”

“Why shouldn’t it?”

Clark isn’t someone who would let others do the work on his behalf. Everytime he puts pen to paper, it’s not his voice he’s speaking with, but all of those who cannot be heard. He has a platform, and of course, a man like him would use it to make the world a better place. Bruce knows because he’s read the articles. They’re damn good, but the Visage won’t yield because of pretty, pleading words. 

“Don’t start something you can’t finish. Your pen isn’t going to stop a bullet in your brain.” Bruce levels Clark with a hard look, and it signals the end of the discussion. He doesn’t linger either, heading upstairs.

These people aren’t your problem, he reminds himself. He came here for peace, and he’ll preserve it however he needs to.

[your-hotdog-husband]

3:45 am: I'm shopping the Safeway app for gluten free foods after taking my ambien. This is always the worst time for me to be on my phone. I heard recently that gorillas at the zoo get so fixated on people's smart phones that it's become disruptive to the whole... "gorilla experience." Signs have been put up in some cases, asking patrons to please leave their phones in their pockets. They should lend (well, rent, realistically) camera lens attachments that allow you to hide your phone while taking pictures. IDK how this idea really could be executed. This is the worst time of night for me to be on tumblr. What is likely to be even more disruptive for some folks is the metal detector being proposed for San Diego Zoo's Gorilla World exhibit.

My wife is snoring like a... hound with allergies and sleep apnea. So... I'm gonna raid the kitchen. I left a slice of gluten free pizza in the toaster this morning. The crust was too soggy, even though I baked it almost perfectly. I'll either check the instructions or try using a grate or whatever on top of the bacon sheet. I know I said bacon. We rarely rarely eat bacon. We don't keep any in the fridge. We'd end up finishing it before the week is over. But now I'm thinking about a bacon sheet. We'd cook our six slices in the morning for breakfast or brunch, and then use the grease for baking something. How about... quesadillas? Pizza. Grilled cheese sandwiches. Oh, chicken! Right? Add it when grilling some lean hamburger patties. See, this is what happens. Around 2:30 am, an app should lock up my phone until I've had at least 7 hours total of solid, real sleep. Or it's 9am, whichever comes second. I really shouldn't be on my phone at this hour. I really am liable to say anything. Well, I've never turned nazi, and I've done this quite a lot over the last couple years. I wonder how many people fancy themselves having absolutely no nazi qualities, but once you pump them with ambien (zolpidem, generic), they throw around racist epithets, talk about elective enthnic cleansing for parents-to-be. Neuro-conforming, blond haired, blue eyed babies, tall and muscular, smart but not too smart. Well, I'm talking about it. I don't like it. I'm against it. I'm only bringing it up to illustrate how creepy it is. See, if you make your white clone army too smart, they might overcome their nazi indoctrination. Especially the women. I'm not being sexist. I'm a man, and most of my best friends are men. See, I'm mentioning sexism only in context of not engaging in it. See, there are inherent differences in humans due to differences in testosterone levels. It's not so much that testosterone makes us stupider, it just makes us more suggestable when we are amorous and after experiencing sexual pleasure, and for much of the time in between, as long as one isn't amorous for too many hours, in which case we become too irritable and distractable to influence. We're more likely to fumble about and break things in a desperate attempt to do something productive in the garage, kitchen, or office. Or we'll be in the bathroom with the door closed for a while, trying to remember the hair and style of a classmate in 12th grade, along with any of their unusual facial expressions, particularly involving their lips and closed eyes. Oh, don't forget the tongue. She (or he) always let their innocent facade slip. But only to be funny, but then again not that funny. The humorous delivery was just an excuse for an awkward double-entendre, still out of character with her good girl style. I wonder what kinds of guys she hooked up with at City College. I hope they weren't all douchy. Maybe she stuck to good Christian boys at campus fellowship, or from Bible camp. Did they make out in the boating shack? Go to third base or 3½ in the back room of the nature center?

I'm quite peckish after looking at sausages and many other foods on my phone. My wife's done snoring, bad timing as always. I hope the one sad little slice of pizza does the trick. I'm out of lunch meat.

[backhandtrebond]

Necessity

13 months after the Cage

They were still mortal. It was an important part of who the First were, and what they stood for, but it had its drawbacks. Every so often, they received a stark reminder.

Rage flooding his veins, it was all the Scholar could do to keep his voice at a reasonable volume. “Verrier took a hit. A bad one. Haelm again.” Sonya glanced up from her book to fix Crow with an icy glare. “But you knew that already, of course.” The man stepped over the threshold, closing the door to the Oracle’s tower rooms. “So… What’s your grand excuse this time? Sonya stood as he stepped towards her, the white almost entirely gone from his eyes. “What reason do you have, I wonder, for letting your friends brush death again and again?”

Not batting an eyelid at the other mage’s display, Sonya met his gaze with her own softly-glowing eyes. “The alternative was worse, trust me.”

“But that’s the thing,” Crow chuckled humourlessly, “I don’t. Haven’t for a while, but right now it’s damned tricky for me to think of any reason to keep pretending. I’m sick of you only deigning to help when the stars align, or the tides are good, or whatever ridiculous system you use. Honestly, I’m not even convinced you still want the Rebellion to succeed.” His eyes now solid black, he flicked his wrist at the Oracle lazily. Her body froze, but her breathing stayed even, eyes still holding Crow’s stare. “Time to stop pretending.”

He placed a hand on her forehead and closed his eyes, projecting his mental awareness at her mental defences. There was far more resistance than any normal mortal could have put up, like comparing castle walls to a picket fence. In no frame of mind to take the time finding a weakness to sneak through, he simply bludgeoned his way past. Sonya let out a muffled grunt, the first indication of discomfort he had seen from her since the Cage.

Let’s see what you’re hiding.

He blew past the early memories; nothing there would be helpful. She had only started her ’enigmatic puppeteer’ routine after the Cage, so he looked for that.

Here we are. Amazing how much difference a year makes.

Looking out of Sonya’s eyes, he saw the others each ask for and receive their magicks until it was her turn.

Did you see something, I wonder? A way to give yourself the best position in whatever’s left standing at the end of all this?

He heard Sonya’s voice, echoing oddly inside her memory.

‘To know what must be done.’ Always thought that was an oddly specific request.

And then he saw.

Crow threw himself out of her mind, recoiling from her in the real world as soon as he had control of his limbs, eyes losing all trace of the shadows. For the first time in almost a year, he felt the emotions in Sonya. Relief, tinged with sadness. “You… That was what you saw that night? But…” He trailed off, tears welling at the corners of his eyes.

Sonya collapsed back into her chair, a few tears of her own making trails down her cheeks. “Yes. So, you know why-”

“I understand. For the first time… I really do.” Crow slumped against the nearest wall before meeting her eyes. “For the Rebellion to succeed-”

“-I have to die,” the Oracle finished. “The first, most important piece of knowledge I received. There is no future in which I live and the Rebellion succeeds. Either I die, or the mortal races go back to being slaves, and worse.”

“So you started closing us off. Made yourself the egomaniacal one, drove away your friends.”

A wan smile appeared on Sonya���s pale face. “If the First lose their friend and comrade, it’ll hurt them. Break some of them. But if I’m just a resource, then they can keep fighting with their minds in it.” Her eyes hardened. “And you can never tell them. I refuse to be what keeps our peoples in chains.”

Crow nodded slowly, getting to his feet. “Knowing what had to be done. You really picked a crappy power.”

After a weak chuckle, she replied “It worked, didn’t it? We’re all still kicking in a war against gods. Hate to break it to you, but you’re not that good.”

Returning the laugh, Crow stopped at the door. “You knew this was coming, didn’t you? Knew I’d do this, that I’d find out.”

“Yes. It made it easier, honestly.” At his look of confusion, she continued “I always knew what had to happen, but I also knew that you’d find out. Means at least someone might remember me as more than the egomaniac in the western tower.”

“I will, I promise.”

“One last thing, Crow.”

He half-turned back to her, body numb.

The Oracle gave a weak smile. “I have to walk this road for us to win. You don’t.”

He gave a barely-perceptible nod, and walked away.

[levisgirll]

Hey ~ I really love ur blog! U just bring a soft side of Levi that's so cute. Could u do a hc/scenario of how would Levi look after his crush during expeditions, please?

𝐓𝐡𝐨����𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 (𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐀𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

→ Text: Hello there anon! Thank you for your message and request <3 I really love this idea and I would be glad to write this out for you! Sorry this took awhile but I hope you see this and you enjoy it <3 also thank you for letting me know! that was my aim, and I really love soft Levi cause I believe this side of him will show when he is around his crush or with his s/o  🥺 ♡♡♡

Synopsis: Ever since you started going to expeditions, Levi has been quite different and showed a different side of him which not only surprised Y/N but himself too. He has become more considerate, attentive, sympathetic (during the nights before an expedition) and rather straightforward whenever he wanted to be serious with you and say his point (might come out as harsh or him being concerned). He started doing this all since he was secretly looking after Y/N, who is his crush! So, find out how he does that!

cute fluff, aot world, random headcanons scenario/imagine ♡ —

First thing you notice when you have started to go on expeditions is that Levi has been keeping his eyes on you. Always watching you, and focuses every detail on you especially out of everyone in the scouts. So, expect all eyes on you from him!

You found it first a bit odd how it was just you, and whenever you try and go near him or talk to Levi while he is staring at you. He would hesitate, and just walk away, trying to avoid you if you wanted to have a conversation.

That's cause, he knows himself really well that he will start stuttering. And, that's also when Levi noticed that Y/N is actually his crush. He did not want to admit it though to himself, he was also confused with how he felt towards you. It was an odd feeling and hard for him to control.

But, one day during an expedition, you fell from a tree branch as the hook from your ODM gear was fractured and causing you not to be balanced. Levi froze, and he felt like the whole world stopped when he saw your body, on the ground, how your head was bleeding, and when he tried to go near you and call you out while holding your body, you were unconscious. He thought he lost his chance, his sunshine and source of happiness. Losing his chance to spend more time with you, show you that he really did love you even though you seemed to never know. And that was when he knew that you were the person he loved and cherished.

As soon as you went back to the walls and Levi taking you to the infirmary, he waited by your side the whole time. Wishing you would wake up sooner, but he has patience, to wait for the person he loved.

Once you were awake, he quickly got up, and you were shocked how none other than Captain Levi, who you really looked up to and liked a lot, was right by your side! 

“Hey, You okay?” Was the first thing he said after breaking the silence between the both of you. How you both gave each other glances that filled with love, and how he stared at your beautiful eyes that sparkled. He missed seeing your face, your eyes that finally opened and your expressions. “Y-Yea, Just a bit dizzy.”

“Idiot, why are you so careless? You should have checked your ODM gear. What a reckless move, brat.” He said while looking away, avoiding his eye contact with you now. If someone else heard that, it would have seem like he was being strict with you. But, after Y/N hearing his words, their eyes would widen and be quite surprised at how Levi said this to them. His tone had a bit of concern and worry for Y/N instead and even though the words were a bit harsh, he won’t mean it in that way and he would only say this to someone he would care a lot and cherish. This left Y/N a blushing mess and felt their heart speaking a beat, how someone, especially Levi, cared for them and noticing them. 

Levi does not ever want to see you again in the infirmary, being hurt, and bandaged up, so he now promised to himself that he would look after Y/N during expeditions especially.

If Y/N somehow twisted their ankle, or their leg/knee would hurt. Expect Levi to actually pick you up or giving you his arm and shoulder for support for standing and walking. He would do these small things and offer his help to you quickly if he saw you struggle. He would later on lecture you how you should have asked his help. “Brat, I told you to ask for my help if you ever got hurt didn’t I? So, Why.” Levi said after helping you sitting you down on a bench, and looking at you for an answer. ‘Easier said than done.’ You would think and blush a bit, you always seemed to held back whenever you though of asking Levi for help. That’s cause, you felt quite shy and nervous whenever approaching the great strong captain solider that everyone talks about! “Hey. From now on, come to me for help. Alright?” He would say after giving you a pat on your shoulder. Even thought he liked you a lot, he actually really cared for you and would actually be happy if you did end up asking for his help, that would boost his ego and he would literally do it right away.

Whenever the scouts took breaks as they moved forward in the formations during an expedition. Levi would look for you, for Y/N only, and when he finds them, he would go on and telling them if they made sure they were alright and reminding them if they had their things. He would also ask if they were feeling alright and if they were too afraid after seeing so many titans. Levi would reassure them that he would be there by their side to support them and whenever Y/N heard that, it would be heartwarming, and this made them move on with their mission.

Whenever Y/N was shaken up after seeing a titan eating their comrades, or their comrades dying before their eyes, or experiencing something unpleasant. Levi would notice that quickly and he would observe how it would make Y/N feel shocked and upset, unable to think calmly and clearly. Levi would approach his crush and comfort them that things would be fine. And, Levi would definitely then allow their crush (who they are the only people who can do that) to hug him as they leave their face in his shoulder, and if they needed to cry, he would be there for that too and comfort you in his own way hugging you back tightly and ruffling their hair to calm them down. Levi would be glad how they survived and they are now alive, around his arms finally.

Levi would offer them water during the expedition usually, he wants to make sure their crush is hydrated and that also he would pack you up with some goods and snacks. “Tch, just take them.” He would say as you hesitantly accepted his kind offer. Levi would literally spend 30 minutes getting all the necessary things you would need and pack them up for you. He gives you things filled with love and care.

And, if you did happen one day running out of snacks to eat, he would offer you his snacks and make sure you eat it all before he leaves. 

His crush would apologize and feel real bad if they messed up on something during a mission, such as incorrectly shooting the wrong signal flare or not shooting it on time whenever they were under stress or nervous during a situation. But, Levi would actually be chill and calm about it and say, “Oi, Don't worry about it. It’s alright.” He would say as he ruffed their hair, and everyone there would be shocked cause if it were a different person he would go mad.

At the beginning, he would would try and tell you not to come to the expeditions that seemed too risky and leave it to him, but obviously he knows that you would no and you would then say to him, “I can’t help it, I want to come and be by your side and help out.” And that, left Levi being a blushing mess. He admired your confidence, and how you were willing to do this all for him and that made him feel loved. He then would reassure you that he would be protecting you throughout the mission. “I want to protect you.” and when you questioned why only you, he would go silent and leave the scene, making you wonder.

Levi would definitely have an aid kit ready with him, whenever he saw you injured or needed some bandages, expect him to have that ready for you, and even do it for you himself. He would do it and his excuse would be that he would do a better job on patching you up, but you knew he just wanted to help you and he actually would be worried if the injury was deep or serious.

If you had a small cut on your finger or the palm of your hand, Levi would make sure to also patch that up for you. If you insisted saying you could do it yourself or saying that it was not a big deal, he would then say to you in a caring tone but having his serious stoic expression, “Your hand. Now.” You resist and give in while holding out your hand to him. After he puts a bandage on it, he would gently hold your hand with both of his hands and then say, “Please, be careful.” In such a low tone, and if you have missed that, you would probably not have heard it.

And, after an expedition one day, when you went to his office to give him some tea you have prepared. He was silent, and Levi was pretty down when you saw him. When he noticed your presence, his expression then would go soft and quickly get up, hugging you, and this would shock you because Levi would never do something like that suddenly. But, that evening after that expedition, he was really emotional and he just wanted to hold what was dear to him, which was you. Y/N.  “I wish I didn’t feel like this every time you leave my side.” He would utter in a sad tone, and you would be there caressing his back and also the back of his head, caressing his undercut which would make him relax and give out a soft sigh.

And before expeditions, Levi becomes a bit clingy and needy in nights a day before, and he would show some affection towards Y/N. Such as slightly holding and caressing your hand, trying to feel your warmth as much as possible to keep him calm, your presence meant the world to him and he loved every bit of time you spent with him. “Hey, promise me you won’t do anything stupid?” He would ask you a lot of questions too and you would have to be there, reassuring him that you wouldn't leave his side and hold his hand back firmly, meaning every word you say to him which will make him feel relieved, how he knows you won’t leave him and sacrifice yourself.

Whenever the scouts are ready to leave and get outside the walls to start the expedition, Levi would check all your gear if they were functioning, and in a good condition, and makes sure your gas is filled up too. 

Levi would also take care of your horse and make sure it was strong and stable enough to help you throughout the journey. If you somehow lost your horse, he would give you his horse instead (and he would only do that to someone he really trusts and cherishes) and he would just use his ODM gear. “I’ll meet you ahead, alright?” He would say and proceed ahead, making sure there is no titan in sight and if there was, he would kill it. He was on his full protective mode every time you were in missions with him.

If you were in a different part of the formation, he would ask someone in that formation you were at, and tell them to update them about Y/N and order them to protect and support Y/N.

Levi would often get side-tracked, thinking of you quite a lot and more than usual, and Erwin would pick that up and say with a smirk, “Don’t worry, they will be fine Levi. Believe in them.” Erwin would say randomly and that would make Levi shocked, thinking how the hell did he even know he was thinking of Y/N.

Overall, the man is the only one out there in the expedition who is ready to risk his life, support you and help you in anyway he can and with his power and strength he would be your guard, and secretly also admire you from afar during expeditions and think how he wants to be near you and just hold your hand.

[afeb]

Bucky Barnes - Salvation

long and kinda slow-burn :)

“Stay safe you,” Matt said as I walked out of the small bookshop.

“Always try.” I smiled back as I skipped down the steps.

I scanned over the books I’d bought on my short walk home, turning the first few pages and already sinking into the stories within. The streets were quiet, sun setting as I hurried home to avoid dark.

I finally stepped foot inside my apartment and immediately went around and turned on all the lamps. I detested the dark, an old habit I found hard to break, as I swiftly checked from room to room. I did this to make sure no one was inside, but in the back of my mind I only looked for one man. Books placed on the side, I was about to sit down when a heavy knock sounded from the door.

“Bloody hell,” I muttered as I walked over. I swung open the door.

Fuck.

Slamming it shut quickly my heart raced and face paled. I could throw up, or faint, and I considered doing both. How did he know where I lived? What was he planning on doing? I bargained that I’d never go to police, and I didn’t for that matter, so why is he here?

“Y/N?” The Winter Solider said through the door.

“I-I haven’t told anyone.” I said.

“That isn’t why I’m here.” His voice was softer than I remembered, he sounded...normal.

“P-Please just go.” I begged, hand still tightly holding the doorknob.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he promised. “I won’t even come into the apartment, I just need to say something.”

I peeped through the spy hole, making sure he was alone. He usually was, however, on one occasion he brought back up. That was the worst of times.

“Step away from the door.” I ordered, to which he readily complied and took two large steps back. I opened the door a crack, waiting for him to pounce. But he remained firmly planted in his spot.

Warily, I creaked the door open. He was dressed in black jeans, a navy top and a black leather jacket. His hair was cut short, his beard was growing out and he no longer donned the muzzle he used to in public. Gloves covered his hand. He looked completely normal.

“My name is James Buchanan Barnes, and I am no longer the Winter Solider,” he said. “Apologising to you is my way of making amends with my past.”

I furrowed my brows. “What?”

He gulped. “I...I did awful things to you, and I’m sorry.”

“Is this...is this a joke?” I asked, peeping my head out a little and looking down the hallway.

He shook his head. “I’m trying to be a better person, and apologising to you is part of that. I could also, do things for you?”

My eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“No!” He said. “No, I meant like...jobs or, I dunno...anything.”

“I’m so confused.” I whined as I rubbed my eyes. “Are you going to kill me?”

He shook his head. “No.”

His eyes looked pleadingly at me. He was alone, he looked normal and I could feel the truth drip off his words. After a long pause, I sighed deeply.

“Do you want to come in?” I stepped aside.

“If that’s okay.” He stiffly smiled and walked past me.

I shut the door and watched him. He looked around the small space, standing in the hallway. I had photos lining the walls, all of friends and family, and he took care to look at some of them.

“You can take off your coat and gloves.” He nodded and shrugged of his jacket, however, chose to leave the gloves on.

“Nice place.” He complimented.

“Thanks,” I had no clue how to act around him. He followed behind me as I led him into the kitchen, turning to face him as he lingered in the doorway. “I was going to cook some dinner.”

He nodded. “Anything special?”

I shook my head. “You could...join, we could talk.”

“That would be...nice.” He smiled.

I cooked in near silence. James took a seat at the small table by the window and watched me as I mulled around the kitchen. Chicken in, salad made, I turned to face him.

“It’ll be about half an hour.” I said as I sat opposite him.

“You’re being very kind.” He said.

“So, what is this?” I gestured between us.

He leant back. “The US Government has pardoned me, and part of that agreement is that I have to go to therapy. My Doc came up with a plan to help me...move on from my past. I have to go around and make amends with the people I hurt, or helped, and that means you.”

I nodded. “How many have you done?” I asked.

“A few,” he said. “I was...I was putting off doing you.”

I frowned. “Why?”

His eyes cast over to me as he took a shaky breath. “I...hurt you. In life changing ways, even if you forgave me, I could never forgive myself.”

I pursed my lips for a moment and didn’t speak. His eyes looked down at his lap, a sad expression coming over his face.

“I hated you,” I whispered. “I always thought in my head that if I ever got the chance, I’d kill you. But then I spent a while researching you, your past. What they did to you, how they treated you, what they made you do. And I realised, it wasn’t really you who hurt me, it was them.”

He gazed at me through his lashes. “Y/N...”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” I smiled, reaching over and taking his hand. “Water under the bridge.”

His hands flexed, squeezing mine. “Water under the bridge.” He repeated.

The gloves were soft against my hands as I peered down at them. “Can I see?”

His face grew uneasy as he shifted in his seat. “Um...yeah, sure.”

He peeled the gloves of slowly, almost waiting to me to stop him. The metal had changed. Instead of the bright silver I was used to, it instead was sleek black with gold details. He rolled his sleeve up as high as it would go, the infamous star now gone. It suited him better, I thought, complimented him more.

“It looks nice,” I smiled. “Better than the old one.”

“Thank you.”

“Could I?” He gave me a nod as I ran my ran over the cool metal.

It was really a work of art. Oddly, this one didn’t scare me. The other had felt my skin, brought me to the edge of death so many times, but this one? This one had only gently squeezed me hands.

We both jumped as the oven beeped, giggling a little as I stood and plated up our meal. We ate quietly, James complimenting my cooking one too many times. The evening drew on and soon James was shrugging on his jacket and lingering by the door.

“Thank you,” he smiled. “Dinner was amazing.”

I laughed. “I’ll have to cook it again.”

His eyes glistened with happiness at the chance of us seeing each other again. “I’d like that.”

I opened the door for him. “It was nice seeing you, the real you.”

He nodded. “I meant it you know, need a boiler fixing, walls painted, I’ll do it.”

He quickly scribbled his number in a small notebook and ripped out the page and handed it to me. “I’ll keep that in mind,”

“Bye.”

“Bye.” He danced around me for a moment before enveloping me in a short, tight hug.

Weeks passed and I didn’t contact him. I thought I’d be a painful reminder of his past and thus didn’t want to keep contact with him. That was, until my sink burst and my landlord claimed it wasn’t his responsibility. I’d tried hard to fix it myself, and the local plumbers charged ridiculous rates, so I found myself texting James.

To James B -

Hi! Sorry I haven’t contacted you before, been very busy! Could I pick up the favour you owe me? My sink has burst and I’m in desperate need of a plumber. - Y/N

I didn’t expect a reply, but he text back before I’d even put my phone back on the table.

From James B -

Hey! No worries. Heading over now.

I scrambled to tidy the apartment, dreading to confess I in fact lived like a pig most days. After a frantic half an hour, a knock sounded from the door.

“You’re a life saver,” I sighed as I opened the door.

James offered a lopsided smile, shrugging his shoulders. “No worries,”

“It burst two days ago, I had a go myself but I think I made it worse.” James set his bag of tools on the counter and opened the cupboard under the sink.

“Oh yeah, I see what’s wrong,” he silently set to work, laying on his back and doing god-knows-what.

After a while I went into the living room and read my book, curling my legs underneath me and settling down. James banged about the kitchen and a swear word or two later, he popped his head around the door.

“Done.”

“So soon?” I quickly stood and bounced into the kitchen. I turned the tap and stepped back, expecting water to drown my feet, but instead it simply swirled down the drain. “It lives!”

James chuckled at my remark. “A few bolts came loose and disconnected, easy stuff really,”

“Thank you James.”

“Bucky,” he quickly said. “Call me Bucky.”

“Thank you, Bucky.” I smiled. “Want to stay for lunch?”

“Yeah,”

We chatted mindlessly as we made sandwiches, Bucky telling me about his childhood. When he was the Winter Soldier I only heard gruff orders, but he had a voice that sounded smooth and sweet. His eyes lit up when he spoke of his siblings and parents, of a life that felt like thousands of years ago.

“You got a boyfriend?” Bucky asked, fiddling with the label on his beer.

I cocked a brow. “No, you?”

“No.” Bucky said. “I’ve tried these dating websites but...feel out of my depth.”

I nodded in understanding. “I abandoned those long ago,”

“I’m glad you text me.” He said. “I’ve spent the last few weeks wondering if you would.”

“Truthfully, I thought you wouldn’t want to speak to me.” I confessed.

“Why would you think that?” He frowned.

“I’m a reminder of your past,” I explained. “I can understand that even looking at me must be hard for you.”

Bucky paused for a moment and scanned over my face. “I see you as my salvation, not my damnation.”

I smiled. “I don’t think I said it before,” I shuffled a little closer. “But I forgive you, Bucky.”

His breath hitched, arm dropping to rest behind my head. “Say it again.” He whispered.

“I forgive you.”

Our bodies were close, Bucky resting his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes and waited for him to make a move, but they fluttered back open when I felt the moment slipping.

“I don’t want to push it,” he confessed.

“You aren’t.” I promised.

“I did bad things to you,” his hand stroked over my cheek.

“Then do something good.”

His lips pressed to mine. They were soft, softer than I’d thought, and he went slow and easy. I sighed into the kiss and pressed my body flush against his, my hands planting on his chest. His hand on the back of the couch slid off and looped behind me back, pressing me further into his as the other hand slid into my hair and held me close.

“Please,” he mumbled against me.

“Yes.”

Bucky eased me back into the sofa, lips still pressed tightly to mine as he eased between my splayed thighs. My hands moved up to fist his short hair, causing a quiet groan to escape his lips. Bucky’s hands held onto my hips as he gently, almost teasingly, ground his crotch to mine.

“Lemme make it better,” he whispered, trailing kisses down my cheek and neck.

“You can do anything,” I breathlessly promised, rolling my body up.

His hand slid down my stomach and into the back of my loose trousers, cupping my clothed pussy and flexing his fingers. I gasped and threw my head back, Bucky surfacing to peer down at me with hooded eyes.

“There?” I nodded at his question.

His fingers eased my underwear to the side and felt over the slickness he’d created. The cool metal of his hand ran over my burning cheeks and I thanked god for the relief of coldness in this moment. My eyes widened as his finger tips circled my swollen bud.

“So wet,” he murmured, gazing into my eyes.

“For you.” I whimpered back, cupping his cheeks.

“Me?” I nodded. “Good girl,”

I moaned again at his words, his fingers picking up their pace. My back arched as he eased two fingers into me, stretching me out. He groaned a little, muttering something about my tightness, before pressing his lips to mine.

“O-Other hand,” I said against his lips.

“What?” He pulled back, stopping his movements.

“Can you u-use your other hand?” I pouted my lips.

“Are you sure?” He furrowed his brows.

I nodded. Bucky removed his hand from my underwear, offering his glistening fingers to my lips. I hastily took them in my mouth, small hand wrapping around his wrist as I sucked. He momentarily closed his eyes, losing himself for a second before easing his metal hand between our bodies.

“Really?” He questioned again, playing with the waistband of my trousers.

I bucked my hips. “Please,”

I couldn’t help the loud moan that left my mouth as his metal fingers resumed his flesh fingers task. They rubbed tightly into my clit, causing my eyes to pinch shut and my jaw to slacken and drop.

“Such a good girl for me,” he cooed against my cheek.

I whimpered again. “I-I’m-“

“Gonna cum baby?” He asked, fingers increasing their speed.

I nodded and cried. “Yes!”

“Like feeling my metal hand, huh?” He teased with a smirk.

“I do! Yes!” My nails bit into the skin of his forearm, the other hand running over the smooth metal of his shoulder. “Oh Bucky!”

“Cum,” he shortly ordered. “Please baby, please cum.”

My head threw back and I saw stars. My back arched as Bucky wrapped and arm under me and held me close. He moaned softly into my neck, grounding his crotch against my thigh. My arms loops around his neck as I shuddered against him.

“S-Stop,” I begged, gently coaxing his hand from my underwear.

“Sorry baby.” He sighed into my neck.

We stayed tangled in each other for a moment before I reached a teasing hand down between us. Bucky quickly stopped me, sheepishly grinning down at me.

“I already...just then...” he blushed.

“Really?” I giggled.

“You have no idea how good you looked.” He whispered, pecking my lips.

I smiled warmly, stroking over his cheek. “Would you like to grab a coffee with me?”

He laughed loudly. “I’ll do more than that.”

[harrywritingsbyme]

please write a whole smut with bestfriend's dad!harry

Such A Tease

Based Off Of This Ask

And This One

A/N: I’m sorry it’s a bit late again! But your wishes are my command. This is the first official installment of my new ‘Sneaking Around’ series. The structure of this is just like ‘A Series Of Firsts’, series of ‘random’ blurbs that are all connected. This one will have a little bit more interconnection though. Anyways, it’s a filthyy introduction to some characters🤪...Enjoy🙃

You were never one to sneak around. Nor were you one to be into older men. At least, that was the case until you met Harry. You knew that you shouldn’t have been lusting a man that was substantially older than you, let alone a man who was the father of your best friend. It’s just that neither you nor Harry could help yourselves. 

You and Christine were both in your second year of college when you two met and became instant friends. It didn’t take long for you two to become really close and rock solid in your friendship. Once midterms rolled around, the two of you two were inseparable. And the fact that the two of you were from the same place, and lived there all the way up until you both left for college (which wasn’t that far away) solidified the friendship even more. The two of you even joked that the universe really wanted you guys to be friends. 

But after meeting Harry though, you were starting to think that the universe had other plans. 

She had invited you join her to have dinner at her dads. After knocking down the lame excuse of not wanting to intrude on their father daughter time, she was able to finally convince you to tag along with her. What was the harm in having dinner at her dads house? That was what ran through your mind as you said yes to her. You were expecting to have a nice dinner with her dad, and give him an introduction to the girl who’s been hanging around his daughter. That’s it and nothing more.

To be completely frank and honest, you were expecting to find a middle aged (or close to it) man, who was about average in looks and built, and nice. The only thing you got right was the middle aged and nice part. The rest was the complete opposite of your expectations. When the front door opened, you could’ve sworn that you were met with a god. He was the literal epitome of god loves some of us more than others. You couldn’t believe that he was dad. And even though he was your best friends father, his name followed up by the categorization of dilf was going down in your book. Let’s just say that from the moment you stepped foot into his home, you were salivating; and it wasn’t because of the food. As the time passed, you were paying attention to every word that left his mouth; and every muscle that he involuntarily flexed as he finished getting dinner ready. You even made sure to say little so that he could talk to you more. To make matters worse, Harry was one of the nicest and kindest human beings on the planet. Which meant that your thoughts ranged from him ravishing you to walking down an aisle with him at the end of it. You were a complete mess. 

While you were kicking yourself for lusting after your best friends dad (dilf), Harry was doing the same. Harry was kicking himself left and right for lusting after a young woman who was not only young enough to be his daughter, but who was in fact the best friend of his daughter, and therefore a woman he could never have. From the moment he opened the front door, Harry was gone. It was like you were the opposite end of the magnet that was pulling him towards you. Ever since he and Christines mother divorced years ago, Harry had dated and slept with a good (and very healthy) amount of women. In all of that time, he’d never felt the same feeling he got from simply looking at you. He’d gotten close to it a couple times, but he’d never experienced the jolts of electricity that were firing throughout his entire body and the swelling of his heart as he looked and talked to you at this capacity before.

These feelings weren’t the only feelings you and Harry had in common though. The both of you were also hoping and praying that Christine didn’t have to go to the bathroom and leave you two alone together. But that’s exactly what happened.

“M’gonna run upstairs to the bathroom real quick and you two can talk some more. Just no embarrassing stories from when I was a kid.” She announces as she excuses herself from the table, making sure to clearly direct the last part to her father, causing you to let out a small laugh that was filled with nervousness. You were not only nervous at the thought of being left alone with her father, you were nervous at the thought of being alone with the hottest and nicest man in the world; who just so happened to be your best friends dad. After Harry “surrenders” to her request, she leaves you both in the dining room and heads upstairs.

“I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me.” You whisper to him from across the table once you two are completely alone.

“And I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me.” Harry counters simply, dropping his fork and lifting his head to put the entirety of his attention onto you.

“Well you should stop.” You whisper back, looking up from your plate to find Harry’s piercing green eyes staring right back at you.

“And you should do the same.” Harry replies, as slight smirk rising up onto his face in the process; queuing the floodgates between your legs to burst wide open. What makes the gates fall off their hinges is when you feel his sock clad foot rub up against your ankle. Since Harry was a bit older than you, he could easily read into all of your reactions and body language, allowing him to know exactly what buttons to press and how to press them. “Do you mind helping me clear the table Y/n?” He asks abruptly, flipping the topic of conversation from your attraction to each other to the dishes so that you could cool off a bit. He could see how flustered you were by him in that moment so he wanted to give you a little break. 

“I don’t mind Mr. Styles.” You promptly whisper back to him. You were so grateful that the previous conversation was over. He then gives you a little nod and the both of you rise up from the table to collect the nearly empty plates and dishes before bringing them into the kitchen. The two of you then stack them on the counter by the sink before turning to go back into the dining room to collect the rest. Before you could take a good five steps, you’re being pulled back, turned around, and pinned against the kitchen counter. Harry has a hand on your waist and the other is softly nudging your chin up so that you could look at him. And before you know it, after looking into your eyes for confirmation, Harry is lowering his mouth down onto yours. This is what you both had been wanting all night long. You knew that from the outside, his lips were a pretty shade of pink (which is the same shade of pink that may or not paint the head of his cock; you were dying to find out) and they were pillow soft. That was the one of the few things you got right all night long. When his lips met yours, they were the softest and most inviting lips you’d ever felt in your entire life. And the way he was pressed up against you as he kissed you was the best. He was pressed tightly pressed against you and your hands were wound in his hair as your lips moved against each others. The thoughts of how wrong this was were blown out of your minds as soon as your lips touched. As you two continued to kiss, you and Harry began to subtly (not so subtly in actuality) rut against each other. Unfortunately, this doesn’t last long. Your kiss, movements, moans and touches were brought to an abrupt and quick halt when the both of you hear the footsteps leading down the stairs. The both of you quickly move into less compromising positions and focus in on gathering and washing the dishes. 

Once the dinner is finally over and it’s time for you and Christine to head back home, Harry gives her a big hug and kiss to the cheek and you a more friendly hug to (not be too obvious) and the two of you are on your way. As you two are heading back home, you reach into your coat pockets in search of your phone. As you’re feeling around, you stumble across a small piece of paper. When you pull it out, you try your best to look at it without turning on the light. The only things you can see are an H, a couple numbers, and a semicolon next to a single parenthesis to form a winking face. You were a little bit on the sad side (inside of course; Christine couldn’t find out about anything) because you weren’t leaving with Harry’s number. You already knew that you were going to break into Christines phone to get it, but you were hoping to get it from Harry himself. So knowing that he went out of his way to make sure you had it was really nice.

 And from that night on, the rest was history. 

You were constantly covering up bruises on your thighs and neck, and taking aspirin to numb the throbbing and sore feeling between your legs from the way Harry relentlessly (and deliciously) pounded his cock into you. You weren’t trying to hide your sex life from Christine. You wanted to share, and tell her about the amazing (if there was even a word to describe it) sex you were having but you couldn’t. And for reasons that were and are beyond understandable. The last thing you were going to tell your best friend is that you were getting dicked down by her father. Or that you were in love with him. That was a completely different story though. 

At first, the thought of getting caught terrified you. And only you. Harry was a little scared since his daughter was involved in the grand scheme of things, but his fear was nothing in comparison to yours. In fact, he instigated every situation that heightened the possibility of you two getting caught. One time, he tasked Christine with running to the grocery store to pick something he forgot. It took him less than 30 seconds after you two were completely alone for him to drop what he was doing and pull your pants down. It also took him less than 30 seconds to pull both of you guys’ pants up when he heard her car pulling up into the driveway. As the time went on though, you began to become more comfortable and willing to take risks here and there. You and Harry would always try to sneak some time in whenever you were visiting with Christine. And whenever you and Harry both had some alone or downtime, you’d drive to Harry’s on your own so that you two could spend some time together. Now even though the sex was beyond amazing, you guys’ relationship as a whole grew. The two of you were pretty much in a full fledged relationship (except for the disclosure part of course) and you both were very happy.

Fast forward about six months and everything was beyond perfect. You and Harry’s relationship was great and you two were in your own secret bubble of love and sex. And your best friend/ Harry’s daughter was completely oblivious to it all. Everything was perfect. You and Christine had just finished your sophomore year of college and the two of you were now spending time with your families. You’d been staying with your family for a little and she was doing the same with Harry. After about a week of not seeing each other  (you not seeing Christine…and you not seeing Harry) your felt that it was time for some quality time. And believe it or not, Harry and Christine were on the same page. You’d received two text messages, one from Harry and the other from Christine, begging you to come over. Hers had more of a ‘I miss my best friend vibe’ and Harry’s had more of a ‘I miss your pussy and cuddles’ vibe. So you figured that it was time to pay them both a little visit. Christine also mentioned that you should stay over for the weekend. So packed a little bag and you made sure to pack everything you’d need. Some tight and short clothes, no panties (well maybe just one pair since Harry liked ripping them off of you), two pairs of pajamas, and some toiletries. Once you were dressed and packed for the weekend, you hop into your car and you’re on your way to Harry’s home.

Once you arrive, you knock on the door and you’re immediately engulfed in an almost bone crushing hug from your best friend. After a good minuet, you’re finally released from her arms and able to breathe again. She pulls you into the house and as she does, you see Harry rounding the corner into the living room. As soon as you see him, you’re a mess all over again.

“Hey Mr. Styles.” You smile “innocently” to him, giving him a small wave to help your little act out a bit. 

“You know you can call me Harry right?” Harry replies with a smirk as he makes his way over to the couch. As he says this, all the times you were screaming his name (and daddy) as he pounded into you. It was so wrong, but it felt so good. He couldn’t wait until you two were able to get some alone time. 

“Me and my dad were just about to watch a movie and you’re gonna watch it with us.” She interjects, dragging you over to the free couch. 

“Is it the notebook again? Because if it is, then we may need to have an intervention.” You joke, dropping your bag onto the floor and plopping yourself down onto the couch. 

“Don’t blame me! He’s the one who got me hooked on it!” Christine replies, pointing her finger in Harry’s direction. 

“I would’ve never thought that you were into these types of movies.” You ponder, turning your head towards Harry as you kick your shoes off. That was a big fat lie. You knew that Harry was the sappiest man in the world. Whenever you guys weren’t running the risk of getting caught, after sex, the two of you would cuddle and watch a romcom or romance/drama movie. 

“What can I say? I like a good romance.” Harry shrugs, sending you a soft smile. He too was thinking back the romcoms and cuddles you two shared.

“Well lets get it started!” Christine interjects excitedly, pulling both you and Harry from your little moment, and grabbing the remote from the table. You pull the blanket from the back of the couch and throw it over the two of you while she starts the movie.

After about an hour, you were a little restless. You loved spending time with your best friend and you wanted to continue watching the movie with her, but you needed a little break. And the idea you had for this little break may or may not have included Harry. 

“I’m gonna take a little trip to the ladies room.” You whisper to Christine as you pull the blanket off of you. When you stand up from the couch, Harry’s eyes leave the tv screen as you walk away. Instead of going straight upstairs, you stand behind the couch you were just sitting on with Christine and you begin “phase one” of your little break.

Instead of just going upstairs and mouthing to him to come with you, you decide to tease him a bit. Get him worked up so that he’d be running to you. While his attention is still on you, you decide to just go for it and lift up your shirt, exposing your bare breasts to him. In an instant, Harry’s eyes widen and his cock stirs in his pants. He couldn’t believe what you were doing. He thought he was the one who was doing the absolute most to live on the edge, but what you were doing right now tied you both for the top spot of the wilder one in the relationship. He constantly makes sure that Christine’s eyes are clued to the tv screen and he’s not being too obvious when it came to being distracted while he took in your teasing. He watched as you squeezed your breasts and tweaked your nipples. You decided to do this for a minuet or two before lifting your skirt a little to give him a peek and ultimately tiptoeing upstairs. This left Harry’s cock completely hard, and his mind completely scrambled as he tried to figure out a plausible reason to step away. After about five minuets, he comes up with a good enough reason to step away and meet you. 

“Have t’make a phone call for work. I’ll be right upstairs.” He announces to Christine as he stands from his seat. 

“Alright. But can you tell Y/n to hurry up, she’s gonna miss the best parts.” She asks, diverting his attention 

“Maybe she’s handling something.” Harry replies, alluding to the possibility of you getting your period. All she does is shrug in response to him, prompting Harry to dash upstairs. As soon as he reaches the top of the stairs, he makes a b-line to the bathroom. Where you were waiting with your panties around your ankles. When he pushes the door open, he’s met with you standing at the counter looking into the mirror. Without saying a single word to you, Harry steps into the bathroom. He closes and locks the door before standing right behind you.

“What’s wrong daddy? Did I make you hard?” You ask sweetly, diverting your attention from your reflection to him.

“Did I say that you could speak?” Harry whispers calmly, lifting his foot to kick your legs apart. “You’re playing a very dangerous game. I’m leaning towards the thought that you want to get caught.” Harry continues, gripping onto your hips and yanking you back so that you fall against the counter and your backside is closer to him.

“Maybe.” You hum, moving your hips a little in his grasp.

“Oh really?” Harry questions, flipping up the bottom of your skirt. “Well now’s the perfect time to see if you want to get caught little girl.” Harry continues on, sending a sharp swat to your ass to make sure that you know who’s in control of this situation. “You could either lay there and moan, whimper, and cry like you do when were all by ourselves, or you could lay there and take it quietly like the good girl you’re supposed to be.” Harry offers, removing a hand from one of your hips shoving down his sweatpants and boxers down all at once. “Your choice.” He whispers finally before lining his cock up with your sopping wet entrance and slowly pushing into you. “Such a tight little hole f’me.” Harry moans as he continues to push into you.

 “So big.” You whisper as you feel his cock stretching and filling you. It felt so good to have him inside you again. Once he’s fully inside and you can feel him in the pit of your stomach. He doesn’t give you much time to adjust to his size before slightly pulling out of you, just to slam back in. He then continuously slams into you over and over again, grunting and moaning lowly behind you. His cock was constantly pushing at the deepest part of you. He was going so hard that you could feel his balls slapping against your clit over and over again.

“This what you wanted babygirl? Wanted me t’fuck you hard while your best friend is downstairs waiting for you?” He pants, continuing to fuck into you. He missed being inside you. He missed the feeling of your spongy, warm, and wet walls around his cock as he gave you everything he had. And he couldn’t wait to spend the entirety of the following week with you. He’d be able to be inside of you 24/7. That’s where he always wanted to be. 

“Oh my-“ you gasp, feeling his cock dig into your sweet spot. His cock was so good. That was all you could say. The way he masterfully maneuvered his cock in and out of you. He knew exactly how to move and slam into you and make you go numb. He was slamming into you so hard that you could guarantee that your thighs would be sore and bruised. But again, it felt so good. As he continues, Harry yanks you up, keeping the same hard and fast pace from slamming his cock into you.

“Look at yourself baby.” He whispers into your ear, pushing his hand up your tight shirt to cup your breasts in his hands. “A cock crazed little girl getting pounded by daddy. A pretty, moaning, and crying little mess.” Harry chuckles cynically, looking into the mirror to see your worn out yet pleasured face and your watery eyes. He can hear your moans as you get closer and closer to your release. He wraps his thumbs and forefingers around your perky nipples before bending you both down onto the counter. “Feel your walls squeezin’ me baby. Wanna cum for daddy?” Harry pants behind you, feeling his release nearing as well.

 “Please daddy.” You whimper. That was all you could say. Your release was coming at full speed and it wasn’t going to slow down. It was hot and tight in the pit of your stomach and you were going to explode.

“Cum with daddy baby.” He groans once more, sending one final, sharp and power filled thrust into you, pinning his cock right against your sweet spot.

 At that moment, the both of you let go. Your bottom lip was completely raw at this point, you were trying so hard to hold back your moans the entire time and it was getting harder and harder. It felt so good to cum around him, and to feel him cumming inside of you. You were more than welcoming to the warm and sticky cum painting your walls. As Harry came, he was on the verge of collapse. He was finally emptying himself into you. He let go of everything he had and it was like your walls were milking him for more from the way you were convulsing around him. You were pulsating as you came. 

Once you two are done, he pulls out of you and does his pants back up, leaving you slumped over on the counter. Before leaving, the plucks open the mirrored medicine cabinet in front of him and pulls out a bottle of aspirin. He sits it on the counter next to your limp body and just stands behind you to admire the sight. “Might wanna take one, don’t want you to be too sore. Wanna pound into you some more later on.” Harry says nonchalantly. He then brings his hand down to your exposed, sore, and a tiny bit swollen pussy to gather some of his sticky cum that was dripping out. “Might wanna put those panties back on too, don’t want any of m’cum leakin’ out. Want you to be nice and full of it once I empty more of it into you later sweetheart.” Harry continues before bringing his cum covered fingertip to his mouth. He then leans down to press a kiss to the exposed skin of your neck and unlocks the bathroom door to walk out, leaving you alone to try your best to put yourself back together. 

Masterlist

[merakiui]

hello!!<3 can i request an angst scenario (it can have a happy ending it's up to you!!) childe x fem!reader where they are together for some time and she didn't know he's fatui (she hates them bc her parents were in debt and overall they ruined her life and he's too scared to tell her) but she finds out and wants to broke up?? THANK YOU

In which you discover Childe’s ties to the Fatui.

cw: angst, debt, small mention of depression as a result of debt, female reader note - I woke up and chose pain with this one. >:) it also got long;;; oops!

You hate the Fatui. And although that’s such a strong, hurtful word it's your true feelings. You’ve never experienced their wrath firsthand, but you have witnessed what it can do to people. Your sweet, loving parents, who took loans out of the bank in order to pay for repairs to their shop, were reduced to frightful messes at the mere mention of that harrowing F-word.

It’s horrible to see them in such a state, especially since a few agents had come by once and practically demanded the money. As a result of such a distasteful discussion, you refuse to go into any sort of monetary career: trader, merchant, and even a wandering saleswoman. You’ll find a way to make things right by getting a job that will bring in lots of riches for your poor parents. Then the Fatui will have no choice but to leave your family alone.

Your own funds have dried up, having gone into another Fatui agent’s gloved hands. You can’t even argue because you have an inkling as to what will happen when you finally run out of money to give. Ever since this entire debt charade, your parents have become hollow shells of their former selves: paranoid, depressed, and starved of the happiness that comes with being in a regular, debt-free family.

Childe tunes into your rant as if someone had just turned on the switch that designates his listening skills. The two of you are sitting on a lovely hilltop, watching the stars twinkle in and out of focus. Liyue Harbor can be seen from afar, glittering in warm colors of gold and red. If Childe remembers correctly, another festival should be right around the corner. He’ll have to take you when he finds time to slink away from his work.

Speaking of his work, he’s never actually told you about it. When you asked, he simply said it was a job that allowed him to travel. It sounded like a traveling merchant to you—perhaps even a fishmonger specializing in exotic types—considering he was seemingly loaded with Mora. It made you jealous that he was so well-off with his finances, but you couldn’t complain when he so readily emptied his pockets for your sake.

“And then that stupid agent shows up at our door right when I get home! It’s the worst timing ever. My parents were pretending to be out of the house and I showed up and ruined their plan.” A heavy sigh tumbles from your lips as you flop back onto the grass, where Childe fixes you with a lopsided, sympathetic grin. “I hate it. They’re not even themselves anymore. It’s like they lost all sense of life. I’m picking up as many commissions as I can, but it doesn’t even help. The Fatui just take it all faster than I can save it.”

“They’re the worst, aren’t they?”

“And the sky isn’t blue. Of course they’re the worst!” You inhale softly. “No use getting mad about something that already happened, though.”

“You’ll just give yourself more stress and you don’t need that.” He joins you on the plush grass, turning his head to look at you rather than up at the inky night sky. “I can help with your commissions, you know. I’ve been itching to smash some hilichurl camps.”

“I can handle it myself. It’s fine.” Only it’s not and you’ve started realizing that. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Funny. I was going to ask you something, too!”

“Oh. Uh...”

He chuckles, staring at you with blue eyes that don’t sparkle. “There’s this festival coming up and I wanted to take you. It’ll be just the two of us for one night. You can forget all about work and money—”

“What about you? You said your job has you traveling all over the place. That’s why we’ll rarely see each other in the future. Once you’re done here in Liyue, that is.” You move onto your side, holding yourself up on your elbow. “I don’t think it’ll work.”

“Well, my boss doesn’t have to know. It’ll be our tiny secret!”

You roll your eyes, smiling a little. Deep inside you’ve always felt like something was off about his story. For the past few months, he’s remained in Liyue and once you even caught him slipping into Northland Bank when you were running some errands. You hope he isn’t in a similar situation concerning debt and poverty. No, he wouldn’t need to be. He’s shown you just how many lavish things his funds can afford. Why would he be in debt if he has a stable job?

“Are you...doing something bad?”

You could’ve phrased that better, but it’s already out in the open now. Sheepishly, you avoid his befuddled stare, opting to watch the moon as its light becomes obscured behind a dark cloud. An airy chuckle escapes him, but he doesn’t say anything. His silence confirms your fears and it dawns upon you that he hasn’t been truthful this entire time.

“This mask.” It’s in your hands before he can stop you. You’re tapping at it with a finger, equal parts curious and apprehensive. You refuse to beat around the bush; your doubtful gaze catches his and it hardens at once. “You’re Fatui, aren’t you?”

He sits up calmly, holding out his hand. “That’s quite the accusation, my dear. Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

“I’m not jumping to any conclusion. I’m right, aren’t I?” Now you’re sitting up, staggering to your feet to find some sort of leverage over him. He’s taller than you and far more powerful than he once let on. “Childe, why would—“

He sighs, lowering his hand out of defeat. “I suppose there’s no point avoiding it now. You were bound to find out one of these days.”

“One of these days? What? Like, when my family’s on the streets because the Fatui took our house?”

It hurts that he wasn’t honest and it hurts even more knowing that he has the power to help. He could’ve spent his time working out ways to get you out of debt, yet he decided to shower you in affection and useless trinkets! Trinkets that are only good for selling and receiving money to pay off the debt. You could cry; that’s how much it hurts. And when he makes no solid effort to comfort you, the tears begin to form.

“Of course not. I’d never let that happen!”

“Then why would you lie about it? Why not help me? Why can’t you just be honest? You always avoid questions you don’t want to answer and I hate it! I’ve been with you long enough to know that that mask is bad news. I was just waiting for you to confirm it, but you didn’t.”

You think it’s selfish for wanting his help—for wanting help from a Fatui agent, no less—but you’re too upset to care.

“(Name), you know that’s—“

“What else haven’t you told me? What else have you lied about? I don’t care if you’re trying to protect me. I’m already on a list. The Fatui still show up to my house and you just...let them. Why?”

“If I interfered, it would look bad in front of Her Majesty. You know I can’t go against her orders. I want to help you—I do. But...”

You’re fumbling for new words, at a complete loss with yourself. No matter how many questions you spout, he’ll evade them like they’re optional. And even if you want answers and honesty more than anything right now, you know he’ll fail to provide it. You shove the mask into his hands, shaking your head in disbelief. A swell of emotions overcome you: sadness, anger, and regret. You feel utterly betrayed. The sweet Childe, whom you once thought was your perfect match, is working for the Fatui—the people who have turned your life into misery.

And that’s probably not even the half of it.

“Let’s break up,” you say before he can spin another false tale. Another easy excuse to avoid this downfall. Childe stops short to stare at you in surprise and it’s weird to see that emotion scrawled across his face. He’s usually smooth and collected; he always knows what to say and how to act. Not this time, though. “It’s not going to work if we’re together while the Fatui are hounding my parents. And they wouldn’t approve of our relationship either.”

“Now, (Name), wait a moment. You’re not thinking straight. You’re just—” He struggles to find the correct words and in that small moment between foggy clarity and paralyzing uncertainty he plasters another plastic smile on. “Look. I know you’re upset, but I didn’t mean to lie to you. I was going to tell you eventually. Just had to find the right time to do it, you know?"

“I know. And that’s why we should go our separate ways.” Like Childe, you also put on a faux show, building up your walls as high and strong as his are. You don’t think you’ll last another minute in his presence, as you’re far too close to tears. “Thank you again for tonight. I’ll take my leave now.”

Rather than pain, it’s bitter when your lips fall upon his soft cheek. And the gesture stings harder than a slap on the wrist. 

The searing pain returns when you pull away and begin the descent from the hill as fast as your trembling legs will allow. You refuse to look back and fall into his arms in hopes that he’ll reassure you. The fact that he doesn’t chase after you—doesn’t even call out—stabs your conflicted heart and it’s more than enough confirmation. Childe isn’t exactly boyfriend material. He’s callous when it comes to a battle and he’s driven by his own ulterior motives. Surely this relationship was just a means of spending his extra time when he found himself bored and lacking a fight. Maybe he thought of his work when the two of you were on secretive dates. Maybe his heart was empty when the two of you were intimate. Maybe you were just the glue holding this crumbling bond together.

Childe remains on that hilltop, watching you disappear into the distance. And it’s then when realizes he’s lost you. The feeling is different from the battlefield and it’s far more real than when he’s snooping around as a Harbinger. You’re just a normal, good-natured citizen and he...ruined that part of you. With his ties to an enemy that has crushed your family. He’s partly, if not fully, responsible for what transpired just now and for the first time in a while real guilt gnaws at him. He’s left wondering why he did all of that—why he couldn’t just face your questions head-on.

It’s his fault, isn’t it?

On that windy hilltop, under the silent, disapproving darkness of the sky, he’s left to pick up the pieces of a fractured relationship. And it’s all because he couldn’t admit the truth to his precious girlfriend.

In a way, the Fatui have taken something from him, too, and he’s not sure if he’ll be able to patch it up with honeyed promises. 

Looks like we won’t be going to that festival anytime soon...

[gogglor]

Cap-Ironman RecWeek: What-If Wednesday

Time for another installment of @cap-ironman rec week! Today’s theme: AU’s.

I know AU’s in different settings are half the reason most people read fanfics, but they’re not really my thing on the whole. AU’s where different choices are made, or different events transpire? Absolutely. Coffee shops? Not my cup of... you know.

So, here’s my AU recommendations for mostly “turn left” scenarios. This time with an under-the-cut break so I don’t take over everyone’s timelines (sorry about that last post). Also with some summaries truncated for length.

Alone Like This

Author: GotTheSilver

Word Count: 7,452

Summary: Steve, post waking up, runs away from SHIELD, and Tony's the one who tracks him down.

Why You Should Read It:

First off, GotTheSilver’s been consistently and regularly putting out solid Stony since 2012 and not only are they not stopping, they’re only getting better. This writer doesn’t get nearly the fanfare I’d expect in Stony circles for someone who puts out this much good stuff, and here’s hoping this post can be a part of changing that.

While I am always a sucker for enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, there’s something to be said for stories where Steve and Tony hit it off right away. And watching these two very different people look at each other and see the same sense of being lost, then finding each other again is... excuse me, there’s something in my eye, ignore me.

Second Chance Lives

Author: raeldaza

Word Count: 43,872

Summary: Tony's gonna die of palladium poisoning anyway, why not join a pointless expedition to recover Captain America’s body? And after, well, why not dedicate his last few months to making sure an American hero settles into his new life? What else is he going to do, get drunk at parties?

Why You Should Read It:

This writer doesn’t write a lot for the MCU but when they do, dang.

“Tony is the one helping Steve acclimate to the new century before Avengers 2012″ is a whole genre of Stony fanfics that scratch an itch I didn’t even know I had before I started reading fanfiction, and this is one of the best ones out there. It’s got it all - Steve poorly coping with his PTSD, Tony poorly coping with his immanent mortality, some breathtakingly poor communication between the two most emotionally stunted men in the MCU, and a cat named Roomba. What’s not to love?

Should You Choose to Accept It

Author: elwenyere (look, you’re gonna be seeing a lot of them this week, sorry-not-sorry)

Word Count: 27,106

Summary: After a terrorist attack and a field operation gone wrong, the Avengers realize that Nick Fury's secrets are just the start of a much bigger mystery. Steve and Tony try to keep some things from each other as well, but that can't possibly affect the mission — right? Mission Fic + Getting Together (or Mission: Getting Together) that mashes up elements from Iron Man 3, CA: Winter Soldier, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. season one, and Mission Impossible 3.

Why You Should Read It:

You can see my post yesterday for singing El’s praises, but what I really liked about this fic was how how damn creative it is. The CAWS/IM3/AOS mashup is everything I wished the actual MCU gave us and more, with well-developed characters and an exciting story to put them in. And because it’s El, you know the banter’s gonna be on point, the way the characters care for each other is gonna be emotionally constipated but touching, and the pacing’s gonna be exciting enough to draw you in and keep you there. Also, this fic doesn’t have nearly enough kudos so please go read it and fix that or I’m gonna have to try to hack AO3 and that’ll just be embarrassing for all parties involved.

What Happens In Vegas

Author: sabremc

Word Count: 161,951

Summary: “What the hell, Tony?” Rhodey demanded brusquely.  Tony winced and drew the phone away from his ear.  “You’ve got cops and Feds all over the hotel.  I’m watching you perp walk out of the police station on repeat on CNN.  They’re saying you tried to bribe Stern?  Fox News has you selling weapons on the black market, and God that picture they’re using is the one from Bali in ’09.   You look like shit.  They wheeled Stern out and put him in an ambulance, by the way.  Got some paparazzi swearing you decked the guy.  Now they’ve got ‘copters following it like he’s OJ.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, Sourpatch, I’ve got it covered.   Uh, though, I should probably tell you that, purely in the interests of national security and the greater good, I kind of had to fake marry that stripper-gram  you sent.  Thanks for that, by the way,” Tony added quickly.

Why You Should Read It:

If you’re deep enough into Stony to see posts like this on Tumblr, you probably know sabre’s what we in the business call a “big name author.” They’re prolific, they’re popular, and most importantly, they write words good (technical term). Seriously, sabre just keeps cranking out high quality stuff over and over again, raising the bar for the rest of us like a jerk (not really. I’m not bitter they write stuff so good I wish I’d thought of it first. Not at all.)

I never read stripper!Steve or stripper!Tony as a rule, but this came so widely recommended that I broke that rule and boy am I glad that I did. This is also the only fic on this list that’s a true-AU, with Steve being a non-powered vet from Afghanistan who left his army career to help Bucky and is stripping in Vegas to raise money for a prosthetic arm. He’s booked to do a private show for Tony, shenanigans ensue, and now they’re fake-married. This fic’s got some top-of-the-line banter and character development, but I particularly love it for its rich setting. Sabre paints a Vegas not just with strip clubs and blackjack tables, but KISS-themed minigolf, romantic dinners on the Eiffel tower, gaudy hotel lobbies, and making out on giant ferris wheels. It’s such a richly developed playground for the characters to play on, and through it, Steve manages to find a life for himself he’d given up on, and Tony finds multiple ways to show his kindness and depth of feeling for Steve. I know the word count’s long for this one but trust me, you’ve gotta read this fic.

Wait & Sea

Author: Lenalena

Word Count: 53,244

Summary: In which Tony and Steve get sent on an undercover mission aboard a cruise ship to make contact with Hydra. In this AU the military has kept the discovery and defrosting of Captain America a secret, so Steve and Tony have never met before. Yet they are to pose as newlyweds....

Why You Should Read It:

This one’s old and popular enough to be considered one of the “classic” Stony fics, and for good reason. Lenalena doesn’t write too often and not as much as they used to, but the fics they have up there are an absolute delight.

This is another fic that I skipped a bunch of times for being outside my comfort zone, but when I finally read it I saw why everyone’s so wild about it. In this story, Steve’s defrosted a bit earlier and not revealed as Captain America. He and Tony are sent undercover to sniff out Hydra shenanigans on a cruise and, because it’s fanfiction, they’ve got to pretend to be a married couple while onboard. There’s tons to love about this fic, but the things that bring me back to reading it over and over is first, Tony’s kindness and the way he’s attuned to Steve’s feelings, which... God, just inject “kind, observant Tony” straight into my veins, please and thank you. This is also another really rich setting for a story, and Lena knows how to fold the the hokeyness of the cruise into the seriousness of the mission and the depth of feelings Steve and Tony are finding for each other in a really beautiful, layered way. It’s funny, it’s heartfelt, it’s steamy, it’s gripping... why are you still reading this here? Go check it out for yourself!

Ashes to Ashes

Author: dirigibleplumbing

Word Count: 51,582

Summary: After regrouping following some surprise time travel, the world's heroes and sorcerers come up with a plan to protect the Mind and Time Stones by taking them into space in opposite directions. The result involves a lot more time loops than Steve would like, but at least they're getting a second chance to stop Thanos. (As well as a third, and a fourth...) And if Steve takes the opportunity to try to reconcile with Tony, too—well, they have the time, and Steve's going to make the most of it.

Why You Should Read It:

Dirigibleplumbing’s another name in Stony fanfics that does not get nearly as much fanfare as they deserve. They’re consistently a really creative voice in Stony fanfics and I always look forward to their stories showing me something new. Go read all their fics, I need more people to geek out with me over them.

I tend to limit myself on Steve-and-Tony-mend-things-after-Civil-War fics not because they’re not good, but because they’re so heavy, and also the Sokovia Accords have five hundred layers of crap in them that no good fic could possibly hash out well. This one, though? When you add in the Infinity War/End Game fixit? Poetry. Art. Music to my ears. DP wrote a really engaging, twisty story where it’s hard to predict what’s coming next, in spite of it literally being a pseudo-Groundhog day scenario. The characterizations are great, the story is engaging, and the feelings are big and sad and eventually happy. Go read it, you’ll love it.

I have tons of other recs for this category but this seems like a good place to stop for today. Tomorrow’s Alternative Media Thursday, and I’ve got some real gems I’ve been saving for that day (aaaaand possibly a self-rec or two ;)

[echos-newlegs]

Number 22 off the prompt list with echo or fives with he/him pronouns 😳😳 pls and thank you 🙏🏽

Missing You

Ahh this would be so cute with Echo. May or may not be biased because— I love him with all my heart, but since you offered you get Echo. You are a medic in this because, uh yeah I am SO creative. But anyways, Echo calls you Doc because I dunno how to use cooler nicknames.

Echo x Male!Reader: “I remember practicing to ask you out in the mirror.”

Warnings: It is a little sad because I am kind of in my feels rn. It has its fair share of happy stuff though, don’t worry.

You were a medic, that often worked along side Kix in the Medbay. The first time you and Echo met he was in with a blaster shot to the leg. It wasn’t anything that you couldn’t help in healing, though. Taking over for Kix as he tended to one of his other brothers.

You were calm and collected. Starting conversation with the man to distract him from the pain as you disinfected and then patched up his wounds. Eyes flickering up to look to him when he would wince and tense up. Though he gave you a look that said, ‘I’m fine, keep going.’ So you did.

Echo always requested to have you helping him. Claiming that you were more gentle than his brother was. Which you were, in some ways, but honestly he just wanted an excuse to hear your voice. To be near you. After a few visits, he would start looking for you when he knew you weren’t working. Go out of his way to walk with you to your quarters, or to the mess. Or to wherever you were going. It made your day. You absolutely loved it. He was so kind, and thoughtful. He listened to you, let you talk, and even shared stories with you on the days that you weren’t really in the mood to hold a solid conversation.

But now? Now that was all gone. Now you wouldn’t be seeing him in the medbay, or the mess, or bump into him in the halls. You wouldn’t be able to sit in your quarters with him and eat some of the snacks you snuck in for him from the last mission that you were needed out on the field. He wasn’t able to bring you trinkets from the planets that he visited. None of that was able to happen again. All you had was your memories.

Your damned memories that seemed to be slowly fading after months went by without him. You were beginning to forget how he laughed. Sure his brothers shared the same laugh, but something about his was unique. You were beginning to forget little details, and it upset you more than anything. The others in the 501st could tell, too. They all knew you and Echo were close. Even Fives could see that the two of you wanted to be more than friends. It wasn’t rocket science. So, the moment Rex found out that Echo could be alive. He made it his mission to not only save him for Echo, but for you as well.

Echo wasn’t the only trooper that loved your smile and your kind heart. So he hoped if he got him back for you. Even the closure of his body, then it would finally put you at ease.

You weren’t told about any of this. Not until you heard troopers talking about how they found a POW. You were curious, to say the least. Finding one of the shines that was talking about it with his brothers. “Who was the prisoner?” You asked with a brow raised. You had lost so many men, so many friends after Echo, that you never believed it would be him. Though a piece of you, deep down. Screamed and shouted in hopes that they would say his name or number.

“An Arc Trooper, sir, went by the name of Echo. They’re bringing him back here with Clone Force 99.” The shiny informed you, and you felt your heart stop. Your eyes were darting around. Breathing picking up a bit, this was a joke, wasn’t it? It had to be. Rushing off past the men to find someone to fill you in on what in stars name was happening.

You sooner or later ended up getting a hold of General Skywalker. He could tell you were distressed. “What sort of sick joke is this?” You spat, starting in before Anakin could even get a word in. “The shinies are talking about how Echo is alive? That’s impossible. I was there when the explosion happened, he’s not, why are they saying this?” You were on the verge of tears as you paced your quarters. Running your hands through your hair. “Oh, he’s alive alright. Why don’t you come outside?” He spoke with a smirk. Anakin knew about your feelings for Echo, and you knew he didn’t mind. He was supportive, even. Anakin always treated you like the little brother he never had, and told you to go for it a number of times. Though you never did, and you greatly regret it.

“Y/n, just come outside and see for yourself.” You were brought back to the conversation. Biting your bottom lip and hanging up on the general. Rushing out the door and down the hall. Until you were exiting the hanger and finding a group of people gathered around.

Your stomach was turning. Heart pounding in your chest. Then the world felt like it froze when you saw him. He was talking with a group that you knew had to be Clone Force 99. You knew it had to be Echo, his armor didn’t match theirs. He looked like a clone, at least. If it was, he looked horrible. But not in a way that you still didn’t want him just as bad as you did nearly a year ago.

You were stuck in place, waiting for him to turn, and when he did. His eyes fell on you. His expression dropped, and he froze up as well. “Cyare..” You watched his lips mouth. Your eyes tearing up, it was him. It was Echo. Your Echo.

You started with a fast walk, and then a jog over to the other. Him moving towards you nearly just as fast. The two of you extending your arms and then engulfing one another in a hug. Something the two of you missed more than you could both remember. “Echo, I- Are you okay? oh my force I’ve missed you so much-“ You sobbed as you burried your face in his neck and he rested his forehead on your shoulder. “I’ve missed you so much, too, Doc, not a day went by I didn’t think about you.” He murmured, and that made the dam break. Tears falling from your eyes in streams.

You were at a loss for words, the two of you holding onto one another for what felt like forever, but honestly it wasn’t long enough. “You’ve changed your hair?” He muttered, reaching up to run his fingers through your hair with his good hand. It was longer than the last time the two of you saw each other. “You changed yours, too.” You murmured. Reaching up and running your fingers over the top of his head. Causing the two of you to snicker a bit.

You both parted slightly so Echo could rest his forehead on your own. His eyes, unlike his skin. Were still bright and had some life in them. Your hand falling to cup his face with a small smile. “Y/n?” You raised your brows a bit. His voice was soft, and stars you missed him saying your name. You missed his voice in general. “Yeah?” You spoke in a near whisper. Shuddering a bit as his hand ran to cup the back of your neck.

He looked nervous. Eyes darting to the side and then back to yours. Gulping, even. “Echo, what is it?” You asked again, and he sighed. “I know, I just got back, but I don’t wanna waste my chance, not now, not ever. Never again,” You stared at him, creasing your brows. What was he saying? “I want to take you on a date, just the two of us, I don’t know where, but.. Kriff, Y/n I like you, and I have since the first time I met you. I maybe even love you, you were what kept me going, you kept me fighting. Because I knew you would be there when I got back. Even if you got into a relationship with someone else, you would be there for me, like old times.”

You were tearing up again, and you could see the panic in his eyes when another tear drop rolled down your cheek. “You do-“ You couldn’t speak, for you knew you would just break down. Which would scare him more. So you reached up and cupped his face with both hands now. Pulling him in for a kiss. Interrupting whatever he was about to say.

The kiss was soft, Echos hand stiffening, then relaxing. Along with his lips. Both your guys’ eyes falling shut as he moved his arms down to wrap around your torso. This was when you felt the metal of his other arm. Making you even more angry and upset. They hurt him so bad, but that didn’t change how you felt about him.

The two of you parting after some time. Huffing out breaths as you both tried to steady your breathing and racing hearts. Even though you were both on cloud nine. “I remember practicing to ask you out in the mirror.” Echo blurted. You looking to him with a shocked expression. “You did?” You asked, and he smiled shyly. Looking down towards the ground. “Yeah.. I did, Fives was tired of hearing me talk about you all day, so he told me to take it like a real one and ask you on a date, so I would talk to myself in the mirror.” He spoke, catching your eyes again.

Your gaze softened on him, and the mention of Fives pained you. You were going to have to tell him about what happened, it was the right thing to do, but it wouldn’t be now. That was a conversation for another time. “Yeah? Well, it paid off in the end.” You hummed, and he tittered. Kissing your forehead with a sigh as you leant agains him. “Yeah, yeah it did.”

[butterbeerblurbs]

[24] taste of whisky, taste of you

50 kisses with fred weasley / tag: 50kisseswithfred 🌼 24_deep kisses where they have their hands tangled in each other’s hair to pull them closer. [smol friends-to-lovers trope i’m sORRY]

the world had been spinning around for you the second you decided to let alcohol take you on a journey away from reality. it was also a solid excuse due to christmas break rolling around and an impromptu meet up with your friends for a couple of butter beers and fire whisky. one or two drinks too many and they’re making it fred weasley’s problem to tend to you with all the loud ruckus upon entering the gryffindor common room.

george is tending to angelina as they make their way up to her dorm, katie’s sprawled on the sofa before lee and oliver pitch to drag the brunette out for a walk because she claims she can run around the world. and fred’s always left to tend to you as now you’re laying on the rug by the fireplace, humming a soft tune that fred thinks always sounds so pretty when it’s coming from you. even when you’re pissed drunk.

he lays down beside you, getting comfortable until you roll over to your side and squint your eyes at him.

“you,” your hand lazily points at him with a small pout. despite the angle, fred wonders how you’re still able to look so breathtaking. “yes?” he grins, raising a brow at your finger pointing between his eyes before his gaze shifts to your eyes. he barely gets a moment to look into them when your head turns away from him with a scoff, “what a prick,”

he’s surprised, eyes widening at the unusual tone of voice he’s used to hearing around you. then again, it’s quite rare he’s seen you this drunk so he wouldn’t know what to expect.

“always bein’ so handsome and all that shit, and for what? not like you notice that i’ve fancied you since forever. bein’ all that smart for no good,” you kick your own leg out of frustration, or you thought was your leg but you instead gaze down to see you’ve kicked fred’s. it makes you chuckle, shaking your head at the illusion, “great, now i can imagine that he’s actually here, too,”

does she think this is a dream? fred stares at you, trying to figure things out. yet, the answer comes when you heave a sigh and roll over towards him until you’ve bumped your face against his chest. “wow... this feels real,” you murmur against the cotton material of his sweater and it takes every part of him to not laugh at how adorable this was. his arms carefully snake around your figure as you relish the warmth you were receiving. your eyes flutter shut as you get comfortable. when you tilt your chin up and open your eyes, fred frowns at the way you look somewhat sad as your lips drag down.

“i wonder if you know how much i like you,” fred feels his heart shaking, the butterflies roaming free. fuck it, it’s the whole damn zoo at this point. his arm tightens around your waist as he nods, “now i do,” he smiles, “i like you too, y/n,”

it seems like fred was just living in a figment of your imagination when you still refuse to acknowledge this was real, shaking your head at him. “this is pathetic, i’m even imagining you confess to me,”

fred lets out a deep sigh before deciding to do the only thing he knows will make you realize this everything but a dream. one of his hands move up to cup your cheek and the sudden cold touch on your cheek lightly jolts you. a gasp leaves your mouth, into fred’s as he presses your lips together; it both wakes you up and triggers your senses back into high gear. the first thing you can think of doing (or manage to do) is push him back with your eyes wide. a huge contrast with the way your eyes were in a daze earlier.

“f-freddie,” he sees the mortification fill your system, “d-did–was–oh my god, i’m so sorry–”he pacifies you with another kiss, this time slow and languid as if you had all the time in the world. then again, maybe you do. fred kisses you like the nights he’s kept you awake, accompanied with the dreams he’s appear to do exactly this. fred kisses you like he’s been wanting to since the day you cussed at malfoy for disrespecting his family and was so unafraid to being by his side; he’d want nothing more than to be with you and now, he was showing you, giving you everything and a little bit more.

he pulls away to see you blinking at him dreamily, before your hands find purchase of his cheeks and you bring him back to kiss you again. he gladly does so, over and over again until it’s making your head spin. your heart swells at the way his tongue caresses the seam of your lips, then against your tongue as he tastes the remnants of sweet alcohol lingering. he makes a sound of approval, raking his throat as your fingers run through his hair to keep him close and he mimics you; a hand of his running through your hair and it makes you sigh into his mouth. something he now knows he loves very much.

fred intends to continue kissing you but when you pull back to catch your breath, fred watches as sleep drags you down and you’re staring at him past half-lidded eyes. a hand of yours continues to play with his hair, then lowering to cup his cheek with a small grin.

“you’re... perfect, fred weasley,”

before fred can reply, your eyes flutter shut and fred chuckles quietly at the way you’ve fallen asleep in his arms. he carefully pulls you up into his arms and decides to carry you back to his dorm; every now and then planting a kiss to the crown of your head and smiling. you’re beyond perfect, y/n y/l/n.

((you come to wake in a bed that doesn’t necessarily feel like it’s yours. mainly because it doesn’t smell like it’s your room. when you have a scan around, the room is seemingly empty. before you can try to get up, arms that shift around your waist makes your eyes widen–putting the pieces together of–”mornin’,” a voice greets you from behind, at the tone, immediately your voice falters as you whisper: “freddie...”

“slept well?” he asks, waiting as you look over your shoulder to lock eyes. he smiles, ever so casually turning you around in his arms and it hits you that you’re in his bed. “what... so last night... that was... real?”

“very much so,” fred snorts, eyes closing shut as he breathes in deeply and uses an eye to peek at you cheekily. “if it wasn’t obvious, i fancy you too, y/n,”

your eyes snap shut and you refuse to deal with this... like this. you shift closer and bury your face in his chest, chuckling at the way you must’ve acted and he uses a hand to carefully put your arms around him, signalling you it’s alright. you do just that, getting comfortable and quite enjoying how your legs intertwine beneath the blanket. “next time, take me drinking with you, yeah? wouldn’t want you hugging guys thinkin’ it’s me,”

you chuckle against him and give him a small squeeze, “...i’m so sorry for the way i acted last night, freddie,”

“don’t be,” he assures you almost immediately, stroking the back of your head with one hand, the other rubbing gentle circles against your hip. “thanks to butter beers and fire whisky, i got you in my arms now,”

after a small pause, you build up the courage to ask: “did you... really mean all you said last night?”

he nods against the side of your head, “yeah,”

“good,” he hears you murmuring, and he can somewhat hear you smiling, too. “you?” he asks, seemingly nervous in the way his voice pitches. “mhm,” you nod into his chest, words muffled but he catches them perfectly, “every single word,”

“...even the part where i’m a prick?” 

“yep, even that,” it was your turn to snort and fred only humors you with a quiet laugh before he kisses the side of your head, “perfect.”))

[laurenairay]

Happy Early Birthday!! I think you should do blurb #7 for Fred, #11 for Skinny and/or #5 for Rig :) But those are just the vibes I get. I love your writing for them!

Thanks for requesting this one, anon! I’ve been on a real Big Rig kick lately, so I hope you enjoy this! 

Tagging @texanstarslove @danglesnipecelly @tippedbykreider @princessphilly because you guys put him on my mind this week with all that thirsting. This is not thirsty in the slightest...but oh well!

“You win, happy?”

*

Another day, another long shift. You groaned when your knees creaked as you stood up out of your car, more than ready to collapse in bed already. It had been a long day. A long week. Hell, it had been a long year. Locking the car, you shook out your stiff limbs before heading into your apartment building. One good thing about paying for an apartment you could only just about afford was the security of the building, the solidness of the electrics and plumbing…that at least kept any extra costs down. The peace of having an apartment all to yourself helped too.

Because sometimes all you needed after a long day of work was the peace and quiet of your own space. Not that you didn’t try to make time for your friends – you did when you could. And of course, you were friendly with a few of your neighbours too, always chatting and catching up where you could. It was a good situation. Not an amazing one, sure – but maybe one day. For now, this was good. It worked. Just about.

As you reached your floor, stepping out of the elevator, you almost crashed into a human wall. Speaking of friendly neighbours…

“Hey, Jamie, sorry about that,” you laughed, side-stepping out of his way.

He just waved his hand to dismiss the apology, letting the elevator doors close and move on, making you smile. Jamie Oleksiak, your neighbour three doors down, super sweet and always ready to lend a hand with anything you needed. One of the only people in your life that had seen you at your lowest points, the times when you were most exhausted. One of the only people that always asked, and genuinely too, about how you were doing. The fact that he was built like a tree and had the face of an angel was just a bonus.

“Hey, I’m just heading out to grab some food with some friends – did you want to join us?” he asked hopefully.

As sweet as that offer was…

“I literally just finished work – maybe another time? All I want to do right now is sleep, sorry,” you said, shaking your head.

“Damn, you worked overtime again?” he winced.

“Gotta get that money somehow,” you shrugged, smiling wryly.

“But like…”

He trailed off, grimacing, sending a sour note through your body. Was he really judging you right now? Sure, you worked long hard hours and had the tiniest apartment in the block…but seriously?

Jamie saw the unimpressed look on your face and winced again.

“I didn’t mean anything bad. It’s just…you can’t keep doing this to yourself,” he sighed.

“What, working? Working to keep a roof above my head?”

Jamie pursed his lips, clearly not happy with your sharp tone. “Working yourself to the bone. When was the last time you didn’t take an overtime shift, hm? When was the last time you actually took time to yourself?”

You laughed, bitterly, shaking your head. Like he would ever be able to understand.

“Jamie I don’t have time for this, I-”

“You never have time!” he retorted, cutting you off mid-sentence.

And that was it, you were done.

“You win, happy? Yes, I’m fucking exhausted. Yes, I wish I could sack it all off and just vegetate on my couch for a whole weekend. But I can’t, Jamie. I have bills to pay, work to do, food to put on my plate, rent to cover. I know you have more money that sense, but I don’t,”

Okay, that was mean. You didn’t mean that. He was a good guy, you knew that.

Jamie flinched back like you’d slapped him, forehead creasing with hurt. “That’s not fair,” he murmured, “I’d give you all the money you needed if you even let me,”

You groaned, tilting your head back as you closed your eyes briefly.

“That’s so not the point, Jamie. You’re missing the entire point. I work to survive, that’s literally all I can do. I don’t have any other choice,” you sighed.

“So that’s it? I just get to watch you work yourself into an early grave?” he scowled.

“No-one said you had to watch,” you shot back.

Because fuck him for judging you.

But Jamie shook his head, laughing shortly, eyes shining with a fire than made you swallow heavily.

“No, no-one did say I had to. I choose to be your friend, to have you in my life, because you’re an amazing person. You’re caring, and sweet, and you put everyone before yourself. Even when Mrs Kramer’s dog is yapping at all hours of the night or the Dane twins are being little shits. But there’s only so long you can go on like this before you break down. You can’t keep going on like this,”

The sadness in his voice, true heartbreaking sadness, made a lump rise in your throat and tears spring to your eyes. You knew he was right. There always was a breaking point, a stage someone would get to before they couldn’t carry on anymore. You’d seen it in so many people…and you knew he was right, that you would get there too. But what could you do?

“I don’t know what I can do, Jamie. I don’t have much of a choice,” you murmured.

Jamie stepped closer towards you, hands coming to rest on your shoulders, the warmth comforting and strong.

“Let me help you,” he said firmly.

“Jamie…” you sighed.

But he just shook his head, smiling. “Let me help you, at least with the little things? Like, cancel your Netflix subscription and use my account. That’ll save you at least a bit of gas money for your travel to work. And let me put you on my grocery delivery service. That’ll save you money and the hours after work that you can use to relax a little more,”

You swallowed heavily, looking away from the intensity of his gaze. It was too much. His generosity was far too much.

“I can’t, that’s too much,” you said shakily.

“It really isn’t,” he replied firmly, making you look up at him again, “You’re my friend and I can’t bear to see you suffering when I can help,”

Then he broke off, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip, as if he was nervous. What was he nervous about?

“I…I care about you. So much. I just want to help you where I know I can. I want to see you smile again,”

Your breath caught in your throat at the look in his eyes, so genuine and warm and…something else you couldn’t put a finger on.

“I…”

“Please say yes?” he asked.

The hope in his eyes made your stomach fill with traitorous butterflies, and you knew you were done for. He really had won.

“Okay,”

“Okay?” he grinned.

“Okay. But if you’re paying for the groceries then I’m going to cook for the two of us at least once a week, when you’re not away on a roadtrip,” you said firmly.

Because if you could do something to gain back some dignity, then you absolutely would.

But that look was back in Jamie’s eyes, the one you couldn’t identify, and it made your heart beat a little faster. No, not the time.

“Alright, that sounds good to me. Any excuse to spend more time with you,” he said, smiling softly.

You bit your bottom lip to hide your smile. Now really wasn’t the time.

“I’d better go. But I’ll talk to you soon?” you said, trying to keep your cool.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll call you to sort out details, yeah?” he said, that beautiful smile still in place.

You just nodded, smiling back at him as he pressed the button for the elevator, before walking quickly towards your apartment. Your head was spinning at the events of the last 5 minutes, barely able to comprehend what you’d just agreed to, but as you opened your front door and looked back down the corridor, you spotted Jamie still looking at you. He grinned, sending a wink your way, before he stepped in the elevator out of sight. You felt your cheeks heat up with warmth and you couldn’t help but laugh under your breath as you walked into your apartment, kicking the door shut behind you. This was not how you had expected your day to end up, not in the slightest. And you knew that there was only more to come, at least where Jamie was involved.

[dasaniperson]

So I had this idea where Scout actually knows Spy is his father during that infamous death scene. Then I wrote a short five about it

———————————————————————

Scout knew he was dying. The pain from his wound was numb by now, but the puddle of blood below him kept growing and he was just so tired.

It was a lot different than he expected, actually. He thought dying would be confusing and fast, like a dream, but instead he was calm. It wasn’t the happy kind of calm, nor the sad kind. It was just… blank. Everything was so perfectly quiet.

His perfect silence was interrupted by the sound of dress shoes clacking, another set of footsteps, this time without any shoes, and a voice.

“— own by monk tailors since the seventh century.” It was Spy talking. He kind of hoped that he’d just pass by him. “ I will let you use it as an adult diaper when you pry it off my cold,” He could see the edge of Spy's shoulder coming around the corner. “dead,” he was all the way around the corner, but faced back towards whoever was with him. “body.” The last word was cut short as Spy saw him. Sniper peaked around the corner and his face fell. Spy just kind of looked… surprised.

“Mate.” Sniper said to Spy. Spy sighed and put his face in his hand, looking exasperated. It didn’t surprise him. Spy barely seemed to respect him as a person, much less someone to grieve. Spy should feel something though, at least as a father. “Yes. I know.” There’s no sympathy in his tone, it’s the same voice he uses during work. “Give us a moment.” Is he really going to die with Spy? Maybe he should be happy to die with his father, most people would take this as a last minute blessing from the heavens. Then again, he hasn’t believed in god since he got his dog tags.

Spy makes his way over to him and crouches down. He shoves one hand into his pocket, the other clutching a wood plank. Upon closer inspection his knee has a splash of blood on it. “Scout. There’s something I need to tell you.” Is he finally going to confess to being his father? Scout’s known for a good four years now, and he got over it all quickly enough, it’s not like Spy ever tried to make anything of their relationship. Still, Scout can’t help but be curious as to why or how any of it happened. His eyes flick away from him. “I…” Spy has a chance right now to begin to redeem himself in Scout’s eyes.

“I’ll be right back.”

For a second Scout can’t believe it. But then he’s blazing with anger. Of course. Of course Spy would leave him to die. Of course Spy wouldn’t take the last opportunity he’ll ever have to make up with his son. Of course. It’s Spy after all. Why is he so mad? He knew it would end like this.

Maybe he’s mad because Spy gave him hope then ripped it away immediately. Or maybe it’s because Spy disappointed him again, but no, it’s not any of those. It’s because he expected it. He expected Spy to leave him. He knew Spy wouldn’t even try to look sad for his sake. His anger gives way to sadness. Then Tom Jones comes around the corner.

At first Scout thinks it’s his brain playing tricks on him. There’s no way Tom Jones is here of all places. He looked too perfect to be here, exactly how Scout imagined him, except this Tom Jones has a wooden board tucked under his arm. Just like Spy, minus the pink coloration and giant letters on it. Ah. That should probably have been obvious from the beginning. Spy walks over.

“What’s new, pussycat?” Scout almost wants to laugh over the sheer ridiculousness of the situation, but he can’t find the strength. Why is Spy disguising himself as Tom Jones of all people? Sure scout looks up to him and all, but only as a musician, never on a personal level. If Spy thinks that this is what would make Scout happy, then he really is blind.

He crouches down again. “Scout… do you know my hit song, Sex Bomb?” What is Spy saying? Bringing up Sex Bomb right now? Nevertheless, Scout nods slightly, going along with whatever Spy is leading up to. “Scout, twenty seven years ago I dropped a ‘Sex Bomb’ on your mother.” So Spy’s really going there, huh? “I was young then, and I ran from the explosion.” That’s his excuse then. He was young. Maybe Scout can understand that. But he never came back. Even when he met Spy again when he was hired at only seventeen, Spy still didn’t even try. “But now the fallout of that Sex Bomb has caught up with me.” Is that all he is to Spy? An accident caused by his own foolishness? “This is where the analogy starts to break down, so if it’s alright with you I’ll retire the Sex Bomb metaphor now.”

But then he sees it. And maybe it’s just because Tom Jones’s face is infinitely more expressive than Spy’s, but he looks… sad. He’s got this downtrodden look to him. Spy reaches a hand forward and onto Scout’s shoulder “You’re stronger than you’ll ever know, Jeremy.”

Jeremy. Spy used his real name. Jeremy had actually thought he didn’t know it for a while. Then Spy’s words sink in. Did Spy really think Jeremy was strong? He’d never even hinted at so much as liking Jeremy. As likely as it was that Spy was lying, Jeremy couldn’t quite find it in himself to think that.

“I’m proud of you.” Proud? He didn’t know what Spy had to be proud of. “I’ve always been proud of you.” Always? Why had he never shown it then? “Son.”

Son? He had given up that chance a long time ago, when he abandoned him. When he never told him that he was his dad. When he put on that godforsaken Tom Jones disguise. He couldn’t come back and take the title of father at the last second, and to be honest? Scout hadn’t needed a father in years. Spy had made the choice not to raise him when he had the chance, and now Jeremy’s twenty seven, he’s an adult. An adult that grew up a long time ago, nothing’s going to change that now.

So as he looks up at Tom Jones’s eyes he actually wishes that they were Spy's for once. At least then he could have proven to Jeremy that he wasn’t a complete wimp.

Jeremy knows he has to say something, he won’t let Spy live with the fact that he hid behind a mask during his child’s final moments. Jeremy sighs, and he knows that it’s his final breath. And he utters one word

“Coward”

And then he was gone.

————

“Hey Henry?” He looked up at his oldest brother. “Yeah?” Henry looked down at him, smiling. “How’re you always so brave?” It was true. Henry never seemed to fear anything. He would face kids twice his size without hesitation if they were doing something mean. “It ain’t bravery kid, it’s just that I gotta do something when I see bad stuff goin’ on” That didn’t make any sense. How could Henry not be brave? “I don’t understand” Henry had told him to ask when he didn’t get what he was saying. “Well kid, if there’s something you don’t like, you gotta change it, and you can’t do that by doing nothing,” Jeremy supposed that made sense, but Henry was still brave, no matter what he said.

“If there’s something you don’t like, you gotta change it,”

And then he was back.

————

He was back in that blood spattered hallway, surrounded by broken to bits robots. And holy fuck ow his wound was definitely still there and so were Spy and Sniper, who was naked for some reason. They were both walking away, unaware that he was alive. He tried to call out, but all that came out was a weak cough. Sniper turned around first “Well, I’ll be…” then Spy turned around. He said nothing but pure relief on his face. Maybe he did care. Spy hobbled over to him and lifted him up off the floor. Holding one of Scout’s arms over his shoulder for support. He nodded slightly to Sniper, who turned around and headed back down the way they had been going. “So, you figured it out.” Spy spoke suddenly, obviously referring to his fatherhood “Yeah,” he didn’t really have the energy to give a long winded response. “When did you figure it out?” “Four years ago.” He answers honestly. It may have been easier to lie and say it was only at the very end when he figured out. It may have saved them all a lot of explaining “and you never told me you knew?” It was a fair inquiry, but Scout didn’t have any one solid answer to that, “never came up.” Spy rolls his eyes at the lackluster answer. “We’re going to be talking about this later.” He had known that was going to happen. Neither of them were in any state to have a heart to heart conversation about feelings right now. Scout hummed slightly in agreement.

Scout was still mad at Spy, but when someone holds you as you die, you tend to feel a bit more understanding towards them. He was going to let this play out. He doubted they would ever truly become father and son this far along in a not so friendly relationship, but he was willing to give Spy a chance to at least be a decent friend.

[jaskiersvalley]

I absolutely love your writing!! It's so very enjoyable and your au's are absolutely delightful. I just thought you should know.

Thank you so much, Nonnie! AUs are something I really enjoy and to hear that others find them fun makes me so very happy. As a little thank you, here’s another AU feat Kaer Morhen Radio and a Jaskier driving an 18 wheeler.

Life was a lonely one on the road. There were many acquaintances and other drivers Jaskier had a passing friendship with, Valdo Marx had the annoying habit of having similar routes to him - they did say mimicry was the highest form of compliment. Alas, nobody was a steady presence in Jaskier’s life. Well, nobody who was aware of him. Though there was the Kaer Morhen Radio family. They were the closest Jaskier had to everyday friends, as sad as that sounded.

“Good morning fuckheads.” Such a declaration could only mean it was 6am and Lambert had taken over. Instinctively, Jaskier was smiling as he sat up with a yawn. Most radio stations liked to gently rouse listeners with swelling music that got more up beat as the day went on. Not Kaer Morhen Radio. They had Lambert as their morning DJ, there to wake sensitive ears in more and more creative ways. He had become known for his unique way to wake listeners up; from bringing in pots to bang to trying to imitate the mating call of a moose at full volume. The only thing listeners loved more than Lambert being a general prick was his flirtation with Aiden who did weather and traffic announcements.

“And, in those four famous words: and now, the weather,” Lambert announced gleefully. After a long moment of silence, he snickered. “We shall have to give Aiden a moment to climb out from under the desk and rinse his mouth. In the mean time, here’s a banger.”

The banger, Jaskier was surprised to find, was quite literally a recording of someone (possibly Lambert) attempting to play drums (badly) on some kitchen pots. By the time the piece reached its rather boisterous end, it seemed that Aiden was no longer preoccupied.

“The weather today-” Jaskier tuned Aiden’s words out in favour of figuring out whether he was messing around or whether he really did sound so husky and gravelly thanks to having his throat fucked. It was quite the conundrum and Jaskier spent the start of his morning drive wondering how many complaints Lambert and Aiden will get now. Their record was 36 for the game of “identify that noise” wherein they stuck their fingers in various containers and made them squelch. To that day, nobody knew whether the last one really was, in Lambert’s words, “Aiden’s well used hole and my come”.

Afternoons were much more peaceful. Eskel took over at 2pm and he was laid back, played soothing music and gave the impression of being a very calm and reliable member of society. Jaskier always maintained it was an impression because, among all the chat, Eskel would sometimes drop a strange little fact that made him do a double take or two.

“This next song,” Eskel had once said, “was written while under the influence of cocaine.” It was a reasonable enough fact to share, Jaskier had been listening while stuck in a traffic jam along a motorway. “How they managed to write it though, I have no idea. Cocaine is terrible for your focus, I could barely scratch an itch before being distracted by something else. So kudos to the writers for creating a whole song while off their face.”

Which was something Jaskier had never thought Eskel would know anything about. He always seemed to demure, the solid rock of Kaer Morhen Radio. He balanced out Yennefer’s news updates perfectly. It was probably why Jaskier liked him so much, now that he thought of it. The surface innocence mixed in with hints of a very colourful life lived beneath the steady exterior. Well, hints other than the incident where Eskel somehow managed to not turn his microphone off and had a conversation about going to a rave with someone who worked at the radio station. Nobody knew the man’s name and his answers were half muffled but listeners swore they heard him suggest something along the lines of a collar and leash - which Eskel had hummed in agreement to, sounding all too happy. When questioned, Eskel resolutely refused to name the mystery man but conceded that there had been a rave. Jury was out whether Eskel had grumbled about being ‘in ecstasy’ or ‘on ecstasy’ for it. And there was definitely a picture of floating around the internet of him in a collar at what definitely looked like an underground rave.

The real reason Jaskier listened to Kaer Morhen Radio was the late night DJ. 10pm on the dot, Eskel would flick the switch and a prerecorded intro played, announcing that it was Late Late Nights with Geralt. Between 10pm and 6am, Geralt manned the station. The only reason Jaskier knew his name was because of the intro. Otherwise the man was silent other than a few hums between songs. Sometimes, presumably when he knocked something over, there would be a growled “fuck” that listeners lived for.

As little as Geralt said, Jaskier was in love. The music was eclectic and death metal could be followed up by electro swing or grime. There was to way to predict just what Geralt would play next, he didn’t take requests, didn’t talk to his listeners. But, somehow, he still drew them in. Jaskier had made the mistake of looking Geralt up online and swooned a little at the few pictures available. It seemed Geralt was an elusive man, somehow managing to turn away from cameras with an uncanny ability. Though a few pictures did exist of Lambert and Eskel on either side of him, quite literally holding him down for a photo.

Truthfully, Geralt was one of the main reasons Jaskier chose to do overnight hauls. Not only did they pay better, he also had Geralt’s nonverbal grunts and hmms to look forward to. He was well aware that it was an infatuation and nothing more. He’d never met Geralt before, Geralt wasn’t even aware of his existence. So, really, Jaskier could daydream all he wanted but had no intention of doing anything more.

Except, Jaskier couldn’t help but wonder. Geralt had such range in his musical taste, maybe he would like what Jaskier wrote. It was a rare night off and Jaskier was well into the bottle with Valdo when they got talking, egging each other on about who was the better musician. It ended with Jaskier drunkenly posting a CD of his music to Kaer Morhen Radio, addressed for Geralt. When he woke up in the morning, on the floor next to his couch which was occupied by Valdo, Jaskier groaned.

Thankfully, there was never a mention or even a single note of his music in the next week. Slowly, Jaskier relaxed, only a little disappointed that his music hadn’t even been acknowledged by Geralt. He almost had a heart attack when eight days later, Lambert came on air with a mad cackle.

“Morning fuckheads!” Lambert sounded more cheery than ever before. “You’ll never guess what I found. Geralt has been hoarding new music. Good music. Said it was for him. Well, I have decided he cannot hold this back from us. If you’re listening, Jaskier, your note was hilarious. I hope your hangover was worth it. Thanks for the CD!”

There was a growl that sounded like Geralt storming into the booth but the microphone was cut and Jaskier’s song started playing. Jaskier almost crashed his truck in shock. Especially when Lambert declared it so good, they would play it again and, sure enough, the song went back to the beginning to play twice in a row.

If it had just been Lambert, Jaskier would have quietly died of shame, accepting that he was being mocked. But Eskel got in on it too. That afternoon he introduced Jaskier’s song with the promise that management were looking into getting in touch with him about the music. Even worse, a listener even requested the song later that evening. Jaskier was both in heaven and hell at the same time. That night, Geralt didn’t play his song and Jaskier was only a little disappointed.

His phone rang the next day.

“Good afternoon, my name is Vesemir, I’m calling from Kaer Morhen Radio. May I speak to Jaskier?”

Jaskier promptly choked. He got an invitation to the studio. It was a good seven days of driving away and Jaskier searched for a contract that would take him across the continent. While he drove, he got a bit braver and started e-mailing the radio station on his breaks.

His written request for songs were acknowledged by a hum and the song coming on next. When he asked Geralt for a shout out, he got obnoxious pop music playing instead. So Jaskier asked for two hums if Geralt wanted to meet and three if he didn’t. Thus, there was a “fuck” on air and the Beauty and the Beast theme song started playing. It was safe to say Jaskier didn’t understand it but he wasn’t deterred.

By the time Jaskier got into town and made his delivery, it was almost 6am. There was no time he had been specifically invited for and he ended up approaching the building at the same time Lambert showed up with Aiden and three large cups of coffee in hand.

“Excuse me,” he called out, “I’m here to see Vesemir.”

“Bit early for that.”

“He never gave me a time so I figured an early start would be appreciated.” It wasn’t exactly a lie but Jaskier kind of wanted to meet Geralt who would be finishing up soon.

For some bizarre reason, Jaskier was led into the radio studio, no questions asked. Surely it was a security issue but then again, Jaskier checked out Lambert and Aiden, they would no doubt be able to handle any issues. Then there was Geralt, stepping out of the booth, Lambert’s intro queued up. He froze when he spotted Jaskier and, curiously, glanced away, seemingly all shy. The curious response was explained away all too soon. There, on the wall, was Jaskier’s CD and a polaroid of him and Valdo, helpfully labeled “The Talent” with an arrow to Jaskier and “The Fake” pointing at Valdo.

“You here for Vesemir?” Geralt asked eventually, sipping at one of the cups Lambert had brought.

“Amongst other things,” Jaskier replied.

“He won’t be here until 10. Why don’t we go grab breakfast while you wait?”

Aiden wolf whistled at that and Lambert whooped, arms in the air.

“My dear fuckheads,” he purred into the microphone, “we have a date between our local cryptid and our mystery siren. Please wish them luck.”

It turned out that, in person, Geralt was a bit more talkative than on air. And Jaskier helped fill any silence without any problems. He ended up being later than planned to meet Vesemir and Tissaia who had a very handsome cheque for him for playing his music and also his phone number with the promise of passing it on to some connections who had expressed an interest in his music.

Never before had Jaskier thought he would thank Valdo Marx for anything. But, one drinking session with him had landed Jaskier with not only a contract with a record label but also a boyfriend. With his first pay, Jaskier send Valdo the biggest bouquet of flowers humanly possible.

[rachelbethhines]

Tangled Salt Marathon - Day of the Animals

While perhaps not my favorite episode this season, Day of the Animals is easily the best written story of season three. Even so, it still has problems due to the third season’s poor approach to characterization. 

Summary: Rapunzel, Varian, Angry and Red are returning stolen loot that the two girls had stolen years ago. They are accompanied by Max, Pascal, Ruddiger and Hamuel who all cannot stop quarreling with each other (or in Hamuel's case, just being useless). While messing with a sea shell pendant, it magically transports the humans into it, leaving the animals to fight over it. A minor thug named Dwayne, steals the pendant forcing the animals to work together to retrieve it. 

So Why is a Polynesian Inspired Kingdom Within Riding Distance of a Northern European Country? 

If you’ll remember my review of Beginnings, Neserdina’s princesses were wearing Polynesian garb and dancing the Hula when prepping for the competition. Now I’ve already went into length as to why that’s not good representation, but in addition to that it’s also just plain dumb. You can’t just transport one ethic group and dump them into another part of the world because it’s convenient for you. You don’t earn any brownie points for doing that. Especially when your fantasy world is still based off of our own historical earth. 

To make things even more confusing, we actually saw Neserdina way back in season one in Way of the Willow. It’s where Willow bought the gremlin knock-off. 

That is an island. How the heck do you get to a volcanic island riding in a horse and cart? And don't tell me they’re riding to a port, because Corona is a port city already. They could have gotten there by boat. It’s also can’t be too far away from Corona’s borders if Angry and Red were able to get there on foot during their year long travels. 

The only explanation is that the entirety of the Tangled crew doesn’t understand geography, and this won’t be the last example in the show to back up that statement. 

So Why Is Rapunzel Here?

We get explanations for why everyone is on this road trip, except for the main character herself. Red and Angry are trying to return some stolen loot. Varian is wanting to pick up rare alchemy supplies at the market and was invited along because Raps hopes it’ll be a chance for Ruddiger and Max to get know one another better. 

But why on earth does Rapunzel feel the need to come on this trip herself? Doesn’t she have a kingdom to run? While I’m sure Eugene is more than capable of handling things, this doesn’t reflect well upon the writers supposed plan of making Rapunzel appear more responsible. 

Literally any other adult could have come along on this trip. This wasn’t something Rapunzel needed to waste time on. Lance especially would have been more appropriate here as he’s the one who’s suppose to eventually adopt Angry and Red.  And the sad thing is, all they had to do was give Rapunzel a line about needing to attend some sort of diplomatic business in Neserdina. That’s it. 

In a show that’s supposed to be all about Rapunzel; Rapunzel sure doesn’t have a whole lot of reasons to exist in the majority of the episodes. 

Lack of Worldbuilding Strikes Again

At this point I’m kind of numb to the whole “magical thing just exists for no adequately explained reason” and so I’m not as upset as some people are about the shell necklace. But it’s still not good writing. 

Why does this thing exist? How did come to be cursed? How did it get mixed in with their stuff? What activated the magic and why did it only effect the human’s even though the animals were closer to it? 

Just something show. Anything. You bothered to give use rules for how this thing works and even stuck to them this time, but you can’t just make the last leg of the trip and give us some exposition? 

Yeah, okay. 

So Where Exactly Are We in Relation to Corona?

We can see Pittsford and Ivangarr on the road sign and we have to be in riding distance to Neserdina from Corona, but like are we in Corona still? Are we in Koto, which is Corona’s nearest neighbor to the east according to season three. Are we in some no-man’s-land where none of the kingdoms have control, or are we already in Neserdina itself? 

The series gives us no sense of direction nor any firm placement for Corona within it’s world. I only know it is a Northern European country because Corona itself is a peninsula with a north sea, uses French, English, and German fashion/customs, and Rapunzel is a Germanic fairy tale. But like those clues are thrown into a blender and contradicted several times over, on top of never being told where it’s closest kingdoms actually lie. 

All of this matters when traveling and exploring the wider world are big themes of your show. You need more solid and consistent world building than this. It also impacts how much authority and control your main character has within the episode itself if she range of political power is limited to one area. So like we need to know where the heroes stand here. 

(FYI I personally headcannon Corona as former Prussia which was once part of Germany and it’s alliance of smaller kingdoms. It’s also a peninsula next to the Curonian Spit) 

This Is Not Progress

Okay so the idea here, is that the show is implying that Rapunzel is trying to improve Corona’s justice system over Frederic’s previously inhumane crack down on crime. However, this is terribly executed. 

For starters the show has never called Frederic nor Rapunzel out for their previous misbehavior. You can not change any system for the better without acknowledging the flaws within said system first. Therefore this comes right out of nowhere and doesn’t stick around long enough to stay within the viewers minds for later. 

Secondly, Rapunzel is incredibly fickle about who she does and doesn’t set free. The Saporians were still in the dungeons last time we saw them, Caine was shipped off to the prison island and left to die there as far as we know, and the Stabbingtons are shown shackled together in the wedding short even though they supposedly changed their ways and befriended Eugene again. 

Meanwhile Dwayne and Stalyan are free to go their marry way and continue their life of crime, Varian is only released from his overly harsh punishment because he kissed Rapunzel’s ass not because it was wrong to imprison him in the first place, and later Cassandra gets away scot free because she’s Rapunzel’s bestie even though she committed the worst crimes out of everyone in the show and for very little reason. 

That’s not justice. That’s not compassion. That’s not progressive reform. It’s just nepotism, and it’s every bit as corrupt as Frederic’s classism and totalitarianism. 

Just because Rapunzel is “nice” it doesn’t mean that she is kind. Real reform has to treat everyone with equality and have a set of base standards that are beyond one person’s personal judgment. She is still a dictator and an abuser even if she lets the occasional person go free on a whim. 

Finally, Rapunzel’s methods are just downright ineffective. Dwyane may not be a threat to our heroes, but that doesn’t mean he’s not a threat to other people. He’s not actually sorry about trying to rob people at knife point and he fully plans on continuing being a thief after feeding Rapunzel the lines she wants to hear. 

Furthermore, we don’t know if this course of action is born out of malice or desperate need. He half heartily comments about finding ‘an honest job” but can he even do that? Is it even a realistic option for him? The series has been weaving this class inequality theme through out it’s past three seasons and directly connecting that to Corona’s crime rate. 

Eugene had a hard time finding a job during season one directly due to his past record, remember? A life of crime he was forced to lead in order to survive, and he’s the Prince Consort! What chance does Dwayne have? Did Rapunzel even try to help him find work or did she just wag her finger at him and told him “Now, now, stealing’s not nice.” 

The show wants to act like Rapunzel is this progressive reformer but then they turn her into a Republican instead. That’s not me being sarcastic either, this approach to criminal justice is the foundation of conservative belief and has been for centuries. The right are not interested in why people commit crime. They don’t care about addressing the fundamental problems in society that lead people to break the law. Let alone bother to analyze why those laws exist in the first place. Instead they resort to doublethink and survivor bias to either write off those that fall through the cracks or make excuses for why their policies repeatedly fail, often ignoring the fact that things aren’t actually working for whole swathes of people who aren’t themselves.  

Tangled the Series is far too simplistic and childish in it’s approach to deeper subjects like this to enforce the messages it supposedly wants to enforce. Rapunzel herself relies on magical thinking, double standards, and personal bias to see her through every and any problem and the show just rewards her for it rather than challenging her to grow and in doing so winds up supporting people like her in their authoritarian ideas, whether that was the writers’ intentions or not. 

In short, Rapunzel shows no interest in putting in the real work it would take to implement genuine restorative justice. She doesn't honestly care about Dwyane or his victims. She’s just posturing here for the sake of her self image.  

You’re Not In Any Position to Talk Rapunzel 

Speaking of Rapunzel being a hypocrite.... The entirety of season three’s main conflict is her having a petty bitch fight with her supposed best friend and needlessly dragging everyone else into it.

In fact that’s the whole show. Rapunzel repeatedly failing to get along with other people because she’s deep down a shitty person despite the veneer of ‘friendliness’ she slaps on to hide it. Having her just say she knows better does nothing to convince me that she’s actually learned anything. You have to show that she’s learned it first, and that requires acknowledging her own wrong doings.  

Varian’s face here just tells it all. Rapunzel is full of shit and no one in the show knows it better than him. Why are they even friends again? Why should we trust her with the three kids she neglected more than once? Why should any of these people take what she says seriously? 

Well This is Contradictory

Also, since we brought up double standards, here’s Varian undermining that whole “jail is bad” thing Rapunzel is trying to push with Dwayne and later with Cass. Not only is the show under cutting it’s themes for a joke, but it just reinforces the abuse Varian received. He’s now bought into Frederic’s stupid beliefs and winds up reinforcing to the audience that that his ‘reform’ was due to his past imprisonment.   

As an adult watching this series, Varian’s supposed redemption continues to increasingly look like a victim complying with their past abuser out of fear of further harm rather than anyone genuinely learning to be better.

Can We Please Stop Infantilizing the 16 Year Old

As if to deflect from Varian’s past mistreatment and continuing parentification, the show then goes on to showcase the opposite extreme whenever possible. I know it’s hard to tell just from these few screen shots alone, but over the course of season three Varian is spoken down too and treated condescendingly by the rest of the cast, and by Rapunzel in particular, even as he enters his later teens/early adulthood.  

Some of this is just to due to Rapunzel being her usual holier than thou self, but there’s also times, like here, where Varian is lumped together with the actual children of the show, even though he’s 6 to 8 years their senior. 

In fact out of everyone Rapunzel interacts with, Varian’s actually the closest to her in both age and development. Queen for a Day forced the two of them into a power imbalance due to a mixture of classism and society’s ongoing unhealthy (and often artificial) divide between younger and older teens, but as we get further and further away from that point in time and as Varian nears the same age Rapunzel started out as, that imbalance becomes less and less relevant. 

Look at how this scene is framed, He’s standing between Angry and Red and is placed lower than them to make it look like he’s one of them. He’s not. 

Varian may still look 12 with his big old eyes and short stature, but seeing as how we’re past Hearts Day, he’s actually close to being 17, if he isn’t already. The timeline gets even wonkier after The King and Queen of Hearts, but trust me, we’re close to being two years past Queen for a Day, if not more so. 

Varian, for all counts, should be Rapunzel’s equal by now in terms of story. Not only is he closest in age to her, but he’s also the only other person going through a coming of age arc. And of the two, Varian’s the one who has actually learned and grown as a person. He has more real world experience than Rapunzel ever will and knows how to implement that experience. (He’s also the more mature, but that’s more of a failure to write Rapunzel competently than a reflection of his capabilities.) 

No matter how you slice it, Varian shouldn’t be taking orders or advice from Rapunzel; no one should be, really; and he most certainly shouldn’t put up with her condescension. Rapunzel is not his nor anybody else’s mother. She’s not even a big sister like figure, and at no point should be treated as the leader of anything or anyone. 

Rapunzel is a Poor Man’s Rose Quartz 

I typically try not to draw too many comparisons between Tangled and other shows outside of the occasional parallel, as a show should be able to stand on it’s own for good or for bad, but it’s hard not to discuss the series without also discussing Steven Universe in some way. 

Steven Universe is this generation’s Batman the Animated Series or Scooby Doo. It’s the game changer that everybody else is trying to copy in some manner. Chris desperately wants Tangled the Series to be the next Steven Universe, right down to how the show is structured, paced, and what themes are presented. But unfortunately Chris has no idea why Steven Universe works the way it does. 

For starters SU adjusted it’s pacing as it went along, smoothing out its rougher edges while Tangled doubled down on its filler. SU had a planned arc from the get go and stuck to it, so that by the time the twists came they made sense. SU kept it’s focus on Steven purposefully so that the story unfolded from his view point while making to sure to acknowledge the importance of other characters around him and their conflicts. It didn’t make him infallible nor shove aside everyone else’s arcs.  

But most importantly, Steven Universe was written by a bisexual nonbinary person who set out to make a show for people in the queer community like themselves. Meanwhile, as a middle aged white man, Chis hasn’t a damn clue about his primary audience and has shown no interest in connecting with them. 

This isn’t to say that Steven Universe is a perfect show. No show is beyond criticism. Nor is this to say that straight white cis men can’t write; many of them do and can portray characters unlike themselves competently enough. But if you’re completely disinterested in other points of view than you can’t be a good writer of fictional stories, that’s just a fact. Because in order to understand proper characterization you need to acknowledge that not every character ever will be like you and that even you’re main heroes will hold beliefs and experiences different from yourself. Otherwise there is no genuine conflict to build off of. Either no one will disagree with each other or the conflict will come across as flat and forced, complete with lopsided bias. 

Therefore, in the end, Rapunzel winds up being less of a Steven and more of a Rose Quartz/Pink Dimond. Both are spoiled princesses/co-rulers of a kingdom that mistreats it’s people and anyone outside of it, who rebelled against their guardians, supposedly out of a sense of justice, but really for themselves and their own freedom, only to make things even worse for everyone. On top of that they both accidently harmed their friends, freindzone their best friend while also bossing them around, are condescending to their love interests, is controlling of people who trust them, and throws temper tantrums when they don’t get what they want, oh and neglected someone for an inhumane amount of time. 

Even then, Rapunzel winds up being the worst of the two. 

The whole point behind Rose was that she is someone whom the main characters place upon a pedestal and as the series went along slowly had the scales fall from their eyes and learned to view her for who she really was flaws and all. By the end, in Future, she is even metaphorically removed from her pedestal when Steven removes her picture from the wall.  

Rose also grows as a character, unlike Rapunzel. Her story is deliberately being told to us backwards. The awful person she was in the past was no longer who she was by the time of her death. True she was still flawed, and the consequences of her actions continued on even after her demise, but she actually tried to be a better person. She got called out for her behavior, she wasn’t excused for actions even when the show explained why she did what she did, and she stopped doing harmful actions whenever she realized that they hurt someone. 

Greg was allowed to stand up to her and show how she was wrong, and she respected him for it and later fell in love with him because of it. She tried to better control her temper when she wound up hurting her friend. Her failed revolution and her mistreatment of Spinel was actually born from a misguided desire to help, rather than outright selfishness. 

Rose Quratz/Pink Dimond is a brilliant fucking character. You may not like her, but you can’t deny that she is one of the most complex figures in children’s media to ever be created. She is real, nuanced, and multifaceted. He role within the story is complicated, messy, and intricate. She is the most well rounded female character I’ve ever seen and she is what I had hoped Rapunzel would be when I first watched season one, only even more so as the actual focus. 

I want women in cartoons to be people! 

But Rapunzel fails at every turn to follow through with this promise. She is not a deep complex character. She’s not a flawed and complicated heroine. She’s a blank canvas in which the creator can shove his creepy ass views upon. She is never taken off her pedestal, she’s never allowed to be wrong, and she is forced to spout the the creator’s personal bias against other characters. 

Rapunzel isn’t a person. She had the chance to be one, but then was reduced to .. to this. As a woman, the treatment of Rapunzel and Cassandra in this show is just flat out insulting. 

So What Is the Difference Between Angry and Red Now?

I’m all for character growth, but at this point Angry and Red are just interchangeable. Anything that made them uniquely them has been lost, and they’re now just fulfilling the generic rambunctious little kid trope. Red becoming more assertive shouldn’t mean she stops being an introvert altogether; that’s not how that works. While Angry shouldn’t lose her temper completely just because she’s wiling to open up more. 

So Why Dwayne?

I like Dwayne as a character and in truth I don’t mind his existence here, and unlike that werewolf hunter last time he at least was established in a pervious season. But this is still time that could have went to a more important antagonist. 

Also notice that Dwyane gets a villain song, but not Lady Caine or Zhan Tiri. Just saying. 

Rapunzel Has Not Earned the Role of the Wise Sage and Mentor 

Rapunzel has never learned to listen to others. Ever.

On it’s own this might have been a good speech, but when taken in context of the wider story it just makes Rapunzel look like an ass. 

A year traveling does not make Rapunzel suddenly all knowing. She is not wiser nor more experienced than anyone else in this scene. She’s also a crappy leader and big fat hypocrite.  

Even when she’s technically right, as seen here, she’s still in the wrong because she never follows through and acts upon her own advice; making this whole story pointless in the grand scheme of things. 

And that’s the core problem with season three. Rapunzel is shoved into a role she is not designed for and the whole premise of the series runs right off the rails. You’re main heroine in a coming of age story can not inhabit the mentor role. She can not simultaneously learn and grow and be always right while instructing everyone else. 

All through out season three Rapunzel is either rendered completely useless in her own damn series, or she utterly fails to fulfill any sort of narrative promise laid out for her while she infuriatingly hijacks the story from more interesting and dynamic characters. 

Behold The Only Reason Why Varian was Included in the Episode 

Speaking of hijacking things, Rapunzel of course has to get the idea to save everybody, even though what she thinks of isn’t anything special. It’s not derived from her character as an individual nor from all that experience she supposedly has. It’s literally an idea anyone could have come up  with and the show just hands it to her in order to justify her exitance. 

Meanwhile the character who actually is useful to the plot is sidelined and reduced to just a plot device. And not just here, Varian is rendered practically pointless in all but two episodes in season three, even in episodes that he actually should have more impact in, like the season opener and series finale. 

Good writing treats characters as equally contributing to the plot in ways that complements who these characters are.  

Ok I’ll Admit That This Line Is Funny

Look, I know this whole review series is about pointing out the negative, and I stand by my opinion that Tangled the Series is one of the worst written shows I’ve ever seen, but I want to make one thing clear.... I do not hate the show. If I hated the show I would not waste my time reviewing it. 

Yes the over all writing is shit, but there are a lot of good things to be found in the series beyond just the crap story arc. The humor is usually solid, the animation is gorgeous, the music is a delight, and the majority of the characters are likable even though they don’t develop in the ways that they should. There’s a lot of talent that went into this show and there’s a lot of potential to be had in it’s set up and lore. 

Being critical or negative about the aspects of something doesn’t mean you dislike it, or that you’re not a real fan, or that you’re just a ‘hater’, and I actually find TTS to be fascinating because it’s such a mess. I write reviews because they’re fun and because I genuinely think there is something to be learned from Tangled’s mistakes. 

So Why Do We Cut Back to Rapunzel Here and Not Varian? 

This is such an odd framing choice. Varian is the one who is talking and reacting to what’s happening. It’s his pet that’s in trouble and therefore he carries the emotional weight of the scene, and yet it’s Rapunzel’s shocked face we focus on? Why? What’s the point of that? She has no business being the center focus here. The action does not involve her. 

If you wanted to include her for a later set up then why not have both her and Varian present in this shot? Usually I can at least count on the story boarders to frame things better than this, but they really missed the mark here. Unless Chris is just that stupid and petty that he over ruled them and forced Varian out of the scene, but that seems like a pointless fight to pick, even for him. 

See This is How you Fulfill a Narrative Promise 

The conflict between Ruddiger and Max was set up in season one with What the Hair, then it was reiterated a few episodes ago during The Lost Treasure of Herz Der Sonne, and then it was reintroduced in this episode along with a stated lesson about working together that they needed to learn. By they end of the episode, guess what, they’ve learned to work together. That is how you properly set up and resolve a conflict. 

It’s clear from this that the writers of Tangled the Series know the basic tenants of writing and how to fulfill narrative promises. So the fact that they don’t follow through with this in the majority of the show’s episodes and ongoing story arcs just baffles me. 

Is it negligence? Is it hubris? Is it incompetent management and editorial mandates? Is it just one asshole ruining everything or is this a failure in the writers room as a whole? 

I just don’t understand what the fuck went wrong here. There’s no reason for why the show got as bad as it did. How does the most acclaimed animation company in the world put out such amateurish tripe? 

Just... wow. 

Now you know why I’m mesmerized by this show. It is a mystery to be solved, like trying to figure out how the crew on the Titanic fucked up so badly or why Hindenburg blew up. You just can’t look away. 

Conclusion 

Like I said at the start, structurally speaking this is the strongest episode of the season. I personally enjoy Lost Treasure a little more, just because Rapunzel annoys me less in that, but it’s not a bad story. However when you’re best episode in your final season is filler, then you know you’re in trouble. 

If you like my reviews and want to support my writing endeavors you can drop a tip in my kofi https://ko-fi.com/rachelbethhines

[pastelwitchling]

For Forever (1/2)

CHAPTER ONE. WORDS FAIL

“Michael fears he’s pushed Alex away for good.”

I’ve decided to start posting my chaptered fics here on tumblr, too. If you enjoyed reading this even a little bit, please comment and share/reblog, it always makes the world of a difference 💕

read on ao3

tags: malex, forlex, malex happy ending

***

Michael leaned against the wall, a fancy glass of whiskey in hand that he’d filled with acetone hours ago. About the time Isobel had started scolding him for ditching the suit she’d laid out for him for tonight and gone with his flannel and cowboy hat instead.

Isobel laughed with a group of chattering guests. Still smiling, and through grit teeth, she leaned in close to Michael and said, “At least pretend you want to be here.”

“Nah,” Michael said, and took another gulp of his drink. He could’ve argued that most of these women didn’t seem to mind Michael’s clothes, seeing as how he’d gotten a few side eyes and more than a few passing touches to his arm, his hand, his jaw. He kept his eyes focused straight ahead, unable and unwilling to offer more than a smirk.

He had other people on his mind tonight. Particularly, he had one person. One person who he had walked in on in the bunker and seen making out with his boyfriend, one person who’d stuck in his mind since. And he was walking through the front door now, his boyfriend at his side, Rosa on the other. Not that Michael could look at anyone else with the way Alex was dressed. He wore a dark brown suit and white button-down shirt underneath. His hair was a mess of perfect, windswept strands, his cheeks were rosy, and his lips looked like he’d been chewing on them nervously all night.

Or like someone else had been chewing on them.

Michael shook the thought from his head. Forrest was here, after all, and he was Alex’s boyfriend, and his boyfriend had every right to put an arm around Alex’s waist and pull him in against him if he wanted. To murmur against his ear and kiss his cheek and be the one to hear him laugh before anyone else, just as he was doing now.

It didn’t matter how badly Michael wanted to tear Forrest’s throat out, or rip his arm off Alex’s body, or crush his fingers and threaten him that Alex was his, that he wasn’t allowed to touch him ever again. What mattered was what Alex wanted, and Alex wanted Forrest’s touch, Forrest’s lips, Forrest’s attention. Michael finished his drink and grabbed another off a passing tray, already reaching into his pocket for the flask of nail polish remover.

“What is that, your fifth glass tonight?” Max murmured as Michael downed half the glass in one gulp.

“Sixth,” Michael corrected, hissing at the burn and glad for it.

Max glanced at Alex across the ballroom and said, “How long’s it been since you two talked?”

“Yesterday,” Michael shrugged a shoulder. “On the phone. Before I went to the bunker because I missed him and found him halfway out of his shirt.”

He knew he’d probably startled Max with his confession, but anger and misery and alcohol eased his sense of caution and made him vulnerable.

Max, however, seemed to have known that already because he only scoffed. “And let me guess,” he said. “You just bolted.”

Michael raised a brow. “What’d you want me to do, throw Long off with my mind?”

Max sighed, like he knew that was exactly what Michael had wanted and been very tempted to do, and barely managed to refrain.

“This is important to Isobel, okay?” was all Max ended up saying. “It’s her big event, whatever you’re going to do, just don’t do it inside.”

Alex looked over then and caught Michael’s gaze. He held it for just a moment, his smile turning tighter, and he looked away.

Michael sniffed, placing his empty glass in Max’s hands. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Without waiting for his brother’s response, Michael walked across the ballroom, the marble tiles glittering under the white light of the fake candles, swaying his hips. If Alex saw him coming, he was pretending to be preoccupied with another guest, a tall elderly woman in white that seemed to like raking his body with her eyes.

Forrest had disappeared, but Michael didn’t know or care where. All he cared about was Alex. When he came close enough, Alex glanced at him, his brows furrowing as if he hadn’t expected Michael to come up to him in the middle of a conversation.

Michael saw him plaster on a smile and heard him say the words, “Excuse me, please,” before he tried to turn towards the door. Michael couldn’t help but smile, an eager laugh escaping his lips as he hurried his pace and caught Alex around the waist with his arm. He pressed his chest to Alex’s back, his nose to the back of Alex’s head, deeply inhaling his vanilla and floral scent.

Alex gasped, startled, and Michael moaned, his eyes fluttering shut to the smell of Alex, his strength, his warmth.

“You look good,” he breathed.

“Guerin,” Alex warned quietly, “let me go.”

Michael chuckled under his breath, and swiped his tongue across the nape of Alex’s neck, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from the airman.

“You and I both know you can break my arm before I say your name,” Michael drawled. “If I’m still touching you –” he brought his hand lower, to the hem of Alex’s shirt “—it’s because you want me to.”

Alex whipped around, and Michael brought both arms up to hold him close, pressing their foreheads together. Somewhere past his drunken haze, he could make out Alex’s frustration and anger. Somewhere, he knew this was a bad idea and would only hurt them both. Somehow he knew he was crossing some line by touching Alex at all.

On the surface level, however, Michael could only think of Alex’s hands holding Forrest’s face, pulling him in closer to kiss. He was jealous, he wanted Alex for himself, and he wanted him now.

Alex’s fists were on his chest, his eyes downcast as if trying with everything he had to resist him.

“Come on, baby,” Michael murmured with a lazy grin. “I’ve got my truck out back.”

“You’re drunk,” Alex said, shaking his head. “You can’t do this here, Guerin.”

“I can take you away,” Michael promised. “Just you and me. We could leave, right now.”

Something Michael said seemed to have woken Alex because he blinked and his brows furrowed.

“What?” Michael faltered, leaning in close, trying to keep Alex’s eyes, but Alex wouldn’t look at him anymore. “What’s wrong, baby –”

Michael cut off as Alex took his wrists, and gently but firmly brought his hands down. He didn’t let go for a long while. They were close enough that they could’ve whispered, and no one else would’ve heard.

“I wanted it to be just you and me, Guerin,” Alex said, “but you said no, remember?”

Michael frowned. His drunken haze sharpened a little to the present just as Alex let go of his hands, and he felt like he was drowning while his feet stayed on solid ground. Alex stepped back and looked to his right. He mustered a smile for Forrest who came holding two drinks.

“Hey, Guerin,” Forrest smiled, a laugh in his voice. “Drunk already, huh? I can’t blame you. This place isn’t really my scene either.”

Michael clenched his jaw. Kind Forrest. Understanding Forrest. How incredible was Alex’s boyfriend? They’d barely been together a month, but it felt like a year. Wasn’t Alex done with him yet?

Angry and too drunk to mask it now, Michael leaned in to Alex’s ear where his lips just brushed the shell, and he murmured, “Is he just to keep your bed warm? ‘Cause I can do it better.”

Alex put a hand on Michael’s chest and put distance between them. Before he said a word to Michael, he looked to Forrest. “Just a minute?”

Forrest looked confused, but nodded, and Alex touched his hand in thanks. Then he was leading Michael away, towards the door.

As soon as they stopped, Alex said, “I get it, okay? I didn’t plan on you walking in on us either, and I get you’re upset, but I’m an adult, Guerin. I get to make my own decisions, and I chose Forrest.”

Michael’s eye twitched. “Private –”

“I wanted you, and you wanted someone else,” Alex said, and Michael fell silent. “And it killed me to keep quiet, but I kept quiet. For you.”

“I’m not like you,” Michael growled. “I can’t pretend I don’t love you like you pretended.”

“Love?” Alex scoffed miserably. He didn’t look angry, just sad. So sad it made Michael’s heart ache and cleared his haze almost completely. “You betrayed me, Guerin. I can’t help but think that if she hadn’t broken things off, you wouldn’t even look at me.”

“I don’t look away, Alex,” Michael said fiercely, and Alex was shaking his head, as if unable to understand how Michael could miss the glaringly obvious.

“You did,” he whispered. “I don’t trust you, Guerin. What does love matter then?”

Michael opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out. Alex’s shoulders fell, as if he’d wanted, more than anything, for Michael to give him a reason to believe in him again.

Alex sighed. “Look, I’ve got to go, Forrest is waiting.” He patted Michael’s arm as he passed, no differently than he would’ve done to Kyle or Max, and walked away.

Michael didn’t turn around. He didn’t want to see Alex pretend to smile, to see Forrest’s kindness bring out any real happiness in him. He didn’t want to see Forrest melt Alex’s heart, Forrest’s hand on Alex’s lower back, Forrest’s lips on Alex’s ear, his cheek, the corner of his lips, where Michael’s lips should’ve been.

Not caring what his siblings thought had happened, he turned into the night and left the party, and Alex and his boyfriend, behind.

 It wasn’t until the next day when Michael was seated at a booth at the Crashdown when he saw Alex again. The airman slid into the seat opposite him, tossing a file onto the table between them.

“Every report I can find on 1950’s captives,” he said casually as he waved down a waitress. “I know it’s not a lot to go off, but they’d just established Caulfield, so I think they were still working on their systems. A burger, fries, and milkshake, please,” he told the waitress who went off with a smile.

Michael raised his brow. He shouldn’t push his luck, he knew. Alex, after all, was being cordial. So everything should’ve been fine, right? Still, he couldn’t help his curiosity.

“You talking to me now, Private?”

Alex raised a brow. “I was never not talking to you, Guerin.”

“Really?” Michael smirked humorlessly. “Because I think you cut things off all clean and pretty at the event last night.”

Alex stared at Michael a moment, considering. Finally, he sighed and said, “You know, ever since I met Forrest – no. Ever since I found out you and Maria slept together, there’s been a battle going on in my head. I felt angry and jealous and hurt, and I knew I had no right to feel any of those things, not towards you. And then after I kissed Forrest, it was a whole new battle on top. I felt guilty for liking someone else, for wanting to – to try with someone else, and I couldn’t understand why.”

Alex wearily wiped a hand across his face. “I mean, I love you. I shouldn’t want to give up on being with you, I shouldn’t want to scream at the idea of you finally coming after me, even if it was only because your girlfriend ended things –”

“Alex –”

“I’m not finished,” Alex said, seemingly calm, though there was a chill in the way he looked at Michael. Like he was a stranger he didn’t like very much. “Last night it hit me that the reason I don’t want to be with you is because I don’t trust you. I don’t trust your feelings for me, I don’t trust that I’m not just some backup. I don’t trust that I’m allowed to be scared or – or miserable around you without you leaving me for something easier again.”

Alex huffed and gave their waitress a smile when she delivered his meal. “Thanks,” he said. “It’s a relief, honestly. No more battles, just the simple truth. Now, finally, I think we can move on past all of this. Don’t you?”

His smile was so polite, as if Michael was any acquaintance, that Michael felt his eyes burn and his fists clench. He wanted to scream about the unfairness of it all, about all of the times Alex had walked away. Except when he hadn’t. Except when he had come to the airstream again and again to fix things between them. Except when he’d told Michael that he loved him, that he wanted to start over, that he wanted to get to know him.

When things between them started to seem real, when it looked like they finally might be together, Michael had been the one to run. To someone else. No wonder Alex couldn’t trust his feelings.

When he spoke next, his words came out quiet and afraid to his own ears, “I don’t want to move on without you.”

For a moment, something fractured in Alex’s eyes, and Michael wondered whether or not all the battles in his head were really gone. Before he could think any of it, however, Alex shrugged and dipped a fry in his milkshake.

Without looking at Michael, his easy, resigned smile slotted into place, and he said, “You’ll get over it.”