#six months feels pretty new for books tho

[n7punk]

molly's new book made me cry, recommend 👍

[itsmarsss]

To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before AU: Chapter 1 - Out [Eli “Hawk” Moskowitz x fem!Reader] (Cobra Kai)

You have been writing these love letters since seventh grade, but what happens when they somehow get sent out?

Warnings: high school (lol i wrote this one when i was in high school but im rewriting it now that im like three years out of it so it feels weird and i feel like it warrants a warning, definitely senior year tho.), hardcore crushing on miguel, mentions of a crush on moon so if ya don’t like women too then idk, uhh mention of smoking weed.

Word Count: 4,060

Your letters were your most prized possessions: yours, and yours only.

You wrote one when you had a crush so intense you felt like you needed to snap out of it or otherwise you’d collapse.

So, you wrote letters to try to find closure. Intricately detailed letters that contained every single unfiltered thought and embarrassing feeling you could find in yourself. Everything you noticed about them, everything you wished you had with them, everything you wanted to say but couldn’t.

It started a long while ago.

You never sent them, of course. That idea was completely off the table. They remained stored inside the little blue box with the white ribbon buried deep in the back of your closet, from where you would occasionally take them just to read them again and reminisce on the thoughts a younger version of you once had about all those different people.

They were all properly sealed, stamped and addressed in pretty cursive letters, but never, ever posted.

They were six in total, addressed to five different people.

The first one ever written had been for Eli, from seventh grade. Adorable little Eli, who was one of the biggest nerds you’d ever seen, always too shy to talk around others, but who would go on excitedly about a tv show or a comic book series he liked for hours around you after getting paired for a project got him to warm up to you.

Adorable little Eli, who trembled like crazy before kissing you in a dumb game of spin the bottle, right before running home crying because some girl thought it would be hilarious to comment on how she wouldn't have let him kiss her with "that mouth" if she were you. You, in turn, couldn't feel more different from that bullshit comment of hers after that messy seventh grade first kiss that lasted barely a couple seconds but fed your crush on him for months on end after.

That letter was followed by a new one, addressed also to him, but the new him this time around, many years later, in your sophomore year- to Hawk, not Eli. However that worked.

To Hawk, who had decided to “flip the script”, as he called it, by changing his entire aesthetic and his whole demeanor, showing up to school on a random day with a blue dyed mohawk and a brand new attitude. You liked it.

Confident Eli seemed happier even though he sometimes acted like a bit of an asshole and, as much as you didn’t want to admit it, he looked really, really hot. He was still Eli, but this Eli wasn’t afraid to flirt with you, which evoked brand new feelings in you.

Therefore, a new letter.

The second letter you ever wrote was addressed to Demetri, from eight grade, who you met around the same time as Eli.

Demetri, who would talk to you about superheroes and binary language and would be so excited about it that you didn’t care to tell him you couldn’t understand a word of what he said.

Demetri, who was so kind as to go to your house to help you with your part on the biology project you were partnered with him in because he knew it was stressing you out, who would offer to tutor you when you told him you were having a hard time with a subject he was good at at school, and who you got closer to when randomly put in many classes together.

The third letter you ever wrote was addressed to Robby Keene, who you became closer to after ditching the homecoming dance in your freshman year to hang out by yourself at the bleachers, despite Sam and Aisha’s protests, only to find out it apparently was Robby Keene’s favorite smoking spot.

Apparently high school dances could be pretty lame, no matter what all high school movies from the 80's had been telling you all your life. You had asked if you were interrupting something when you noticed his presence and he told you it depended on whether you'd be snitching on him or not, and suddenly freshman homecoming didn't suck all that much anymore, because you managed to make friends with the most unlikely acquaintance you could ever have.

Robby, who at fourteen years old got detention for threatening to beat up the kids who made you cry because they kept making fun of you during a presentation, which was about substance abuse, ironically.

The fourth one had been written to Moon, who you used to despise because she used to hang out with Yasmine- who, for the longest time, had loved to pick on you and your friends- especially Eli and Demetri.

But Moon, who turned out to be so sweet after she started doing and saying things for herself as opposed to whatever her friends wanted her to and started hanging out with your friend group.

Moon, who would excitedly invite you to sleep overs and braid your hair as you gossiped about people you barely knew from school, who would do your makeup for you and take you shopping and call you pet names platonically, making you blush furiously and putting you in the verge of short-circuiting by being so casually affectionate now that you’d become friends.

And, lastly, the most recent one had been written to Miguel Diaz, of course.

Miguel, who was your best friend in the whole entire world, ever since he moved to Reseda and you first befriended him at school.

Miguel, who was currently dating Sam, who you’d drifted apart from, but couldn’t for the life of you hold a grudge against.

Yeah, Miguel.

But before he became Sam’s boyfriend, he was your boyfriend. Well… boy-friend. A boy who was a friend. And things were good as they were.

But then things started changing.

Things started changing when Miguel asked Sam out and you realized you didn’t like that. When the first thing he did when he got home was to tell you all about it, and you felt a pit in your stomach as he went on about how well things had gone.

Until you couldn’t lie to yourself anymore and had to face the reality that the reason it all made you feel so awful was that you were jealous.

It was even worse to figure out why: as much as you could try to lie to yourself and pretend you were just jealous that she was spending time with your best friend, you knew you had to face it: it all came down to the simple fact that you were in love with him.

You didn’t know when it happened, or what was the turning point for that, but you were. Utterly and irredeemably.

And, in hindsight, it seemed obvious.

But then they started dating, and they didn’t want you to feel left out, so they would you and Aisha everywhere, which made things so much worse.

And then they broke up, and things got, somehow, even weirder. Now it was all you and Miguel again, and, even after all of that, you still had those stupid feelings for him. But you weren’t a complete bitch, or insensitive. You’d never make a move, you’d just have to live with it.

Which didn’t mean there was nothing you could do about it: you decided to try to put an end to it, your own way.

Hence, how letter number six came to be. Signed, addressed, stamped, sealed and stored in the blue box under all the others.

Maybe after this you’d be able to move on. Maybe after this things would go back to normal. How you craved for things to go back to how they used to be.

It seemed reasonable enough to just wait on your feelings to die out.

But a certain day came when then Eli- well, Eli, who was Hawk now, marched up to you in the middle of your gym class.

“Y/n?” He called your name, and you stopped running your laps, turning around to face him, eyebrows knit together in confusion. What was Hawk doing in your gym class?

You let him approach you. “What’s wrong?”

“Look, I appreciate it but it’s… not gonna happen. Like, you know we’re friends, and you know I'm still like… hung up on Moon, or whatever. Right? I know the power of the Hawk’s pretty irresistible,” he smirked, quickly going back to his stern expression, “but you should cut it out.”

You really had no idea what the hell he could be possibly talking about. “Dude… what?”

“C’mon you don’t have to play dumb, it’s cool that you think my scar makes me look cute or whatever but like. I uh. Don’t have any feelings for you now.” Wait, what did he say about the scar? He kept on. “And like it’s- it’s pretty cool that you liked me before and now too but this would just- this would be weird. You know that, right?”

You just weren't getting it.

And then you saw it: in his hand, signed, addressed and stamped, were two open envelopes with two different names written on them in your best cursive handwriting. Fuck.

“Hey- woah are you alright? You look like you're gonna pass out.”

You felt like you were going to pass out. You couldn’t even form a sentence in the midst of your shock.

And then, Miguel came into your line of sight. Because of course things had to get worse.

“There’s no fucking way,” you muttered, incredulous. He was walking up to you, a red envelope in hand.

The letters got out the letters got out the letters got out.

He looked confused. He obviously, and much understandably, wanted answers. Answers you’d much rather get hot by a bus than giving him.

This could not be your fucking life.

“No, no, no, no, no, oh, my god,” you looked around frantically as he got closer, trying to figure out what to do. Hawk surely thought you were crazy now.

And then Miguel made eye contact with you and he had that fucking look of pity on his face and you panicked. And so you did the first thing that came to your short-circuiting mind, which was possibly the dumbest thing you could have thought to do: apparently all you managed to think of was jumping Hawk, tackling him to the ground and kissing him in the middle of gym for Miguel to see.

How maturer and over him you were! Incredible!

The kiss was over as soon as it happened, and you pulled away as Hawk stared at you with two wide eyes and shock all over his face.

You could sympathize with the guy- getting this as a reaction to your rejection was probably really confusing.

More important things going on, though. You got a glance of Miguel stopping in his tracks at your little theatrics, making you realize it definitely didn’t do anything other than make things more awkward for you.

“Uh. Thanks. Sorry or… whatever. I’ll see you in bio!” You told Hawk, patting his chest before standing up and booking away from him, running past Miguel way too quickly for him to be able to approach you and ignoring his call of your name, and locking yourself in one of the stalls of the closest bathroom you were able to find, trying every single breathing exercise you’ve ever come across to calm yourself down.

This was it. Miguel hated you, surely.

No, worse: he pitied you. Because obviously he didn't feel the same and obviously receiving a love letter so embarrassingly honest from his closest friend was weird. Now your friendship was going to be weird, and it was all you fau-

“Y/n? Are you in there?”

No. No. No, no, no, no, no, no. This can't be happening, there was no way.

“Y/n? Are you okay?”

Goddamn Robby Keene.

“Oh my god,” you muttered to yourself. Maybe willing him away in your mind would alter reality so he wasn’t there in the bathroom with you.

If only it were that easy.

Resting your head in your hands as you tried to convince yourself this was some sort of nightmare, you heard a noise come from really close to you and opened your eyesto the pink envelope being slid under the stall to you.

“I thought you’d want it back. Seemed pretty personal.”

“Robby, holy shit, I’m so sorry. You do know I wrote this like years ago, right?” He had to have figured that out, didn’t he? You weren’t even close anymore.

“Yeah! Like freshman year right? When we smoked together while everyone was at the dance.” He didn't seem to be mocking you, didn't seem to be angry. Just pointing it out. You sighed and opened the stall door, deciding facing Robby wouldn't be as bad as facing Miguel. You walked out.

“Yeah it was- it was pretty cool. Better than whatever was going down in the dance.”

“Yeah, I taught you how to smoke that day!” He smiled. “Thinking back on it makes me think you shouldn’t have been hanging out with me back then, actually,” he points out.

You could only let out a small laugh. “I guess not.”

“Look, I don’t know why you decided to send this but uh. I feel like I should tell you that Sam and I are like. Together.”

They were? “Oh. Right! Duh. Obviously. I knew that.” You most definitely did not know that. “I don’t know how this got out, really. I never meant for you to actually see this.”

“Look, we can still be friends. You’re pretty cool. Even with… you know…” he motioned vaguely, “the whole Cobra Kai thing”

“Okay! Yeah, definitely.” He was only being polite, because that’s how he is. But this was much better than having him think you were trying to get with him. You let out a nervous laugh. “I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah.”

Jesus fuck.

[. . .]

You looked everywhere. Everywhere. The stupid fucking blue box just wasn't anywhere. You tried asking your mom about it, but her answer was short and simple: It probably went with the Goodwill box you’d made last week.

How, you couldn’t figure out, but it seemed to be the only slightly plausible possibility.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. That meant there were five people out there total, five people you still saw every single day, who you were friends with, who had received a fucking love letter with your name signed all pretty on it.

This was hell, it had to be.

You were sure of it when you heard a knock on your front door, accompanied by Miguel’s voice calling your name.

Shit, shit, shit, you were not ready to have this conversation. Why did he have to be your next door neighbor on top of everything? It had always been convenient to live so close to each other, but right now it seemed everything but.

So you did what any sane, responsible person would do: you got out by the kitchen window. Naturally.

Miguel would think you just weren't home.

Again, very mature and totally normal and over it of you.

You decided someone would probably be at the dojo and the last thing you wanted right now was to accidentally encounter someone else who had a letter by surprise. You figured it was too early for someone to be at the diner nearby, so there you went.

You ordered yourself a milkshake and tried to reason with yourself. You couldn't avoid Miguel forever. He’s obviously find a way to talk to you at some point. And then what would you do? Admit you were in love with him even though to him you were just best friends? Let him tell Sam you were in love with her (well, at-the-time) boyfriend? Get politely rejected by him and go around pretending being pitied by him for not being corresponded wasn’t pathetic? It all seemed to come down to terrible endings.

You were so lost in thought you didn't notice him sit beside you at the counter until he spoke up, ordering some fries.

Oh, shit.

Hawk.

“What are you doing here?” You asked him, annoyed.

“Went by your place. Miguel said you weren't there. Things felt preetty awkward I’ll be honest with you. But you weren't at the dojo either so I thought I’d find you here.”

“Okay. And why did you wanna find me, exactly?”

“Look I just wanna make it double clear that nothing’s gonna happen between us. Nada.”

“Eli Moskowitz I am not trying to date you.”

He seemed to cringe at his own given name, but didn’t complain out loud about it. “Then why would you write me a love letter?”

“It was in 7th grade!”

“No, you talk about me as Hawk though.”

“Last year! Right when you did… that,” you motioned vaguely to his mohawk.

“Okay I hear you but like. Your mouth is saying one thing… but then your mouth said… something… else. To my mouth. Directly.”

“What? Ew!”

“You jumped me!”

“I was panicking! And I’m like, actually sorry.”

“Then why’d you do it?”

You let out a sigh, defeated. “Miguel was walking over.”

“And?”

“And he also got one of those,” you motioned with your head at the letter in Hawk’s hand, “and I cannot deal with that right now.”

His expression shifted. “Wait, I’m not the only one who got a letter?”

“No.”

“Huh. You really think you’re special.”

“Are you not, like, surprised about Miguel?”

“Oh, no, it was pretty obvious. But damn you get a love letter and think you’re the man but then you find out she wrote to another guy too?”

“Oh there’s six of them, so don’t go feeling too special.”

“Six of them?”

You then realize you’d spoken too much. He doesn’t need to know all of this. “Nevermind.”

“Damn y/n, fuck yeah, you're a player! Who were they for?”

“No one! It’s none of your business.”

“Come on, I deserve to know! You did kinda jump me in front of a bunch of people.”

“It doesn’t matter!”

“I mean I wouldn't- I wouldn't want people to find out you think my scar looks hot. Or that when you look at me you think about ‘kissing the annoying smirk off my lips’- I mean who knows what guarantees you don’t have a tattoo of my face on your ass-”

That was embarrassing enough. “Okay shut up! Shut up. Fine, if you wanna know so bad. So two for you. Then uh. Demetri, in-”

“You had a crush on Demetri?”

You kept on. “Then Robby Keene, on freshman year.”

“What, do you have a thing for LaRusso’s boyfriends or…?”

“How did you know they were together? I didn’t know!”

He just shrugged, and you continued. “And then there was uh-” you glanced at him and back to your milkshake. “Moon, after she uh. Started dating you, and hanging out with us.”

He let out a snort. “Right.”

“Sorry. I uh- I know she broke up with you-”

“What, are you gonna make a move on her? Is this what you have a thing for, crushing on your friends’ partners?”

“No. And you asked me about it!”

He looked sorry. He didn’t say it. He sighed. “Fine. Is that everyone?”

“With Miguel, yeah, that’s everyone.”

“Okay. I was the only one to get two letters though.”

You rolled your eyes at the comment. Of course he’d make this be about feeding his ego. The two of you finished your food in an awkward silence before he spoke up again. “Did you walk here?”

“Yeah.”

“You want a ride?”

“You don’t have to.”

“It’s fine.”

“Okay.” After paying, you walked outside, getting on his motorbike. He surrendered his only helmet to you.

Holding onto his waist the whole time after all this was definitely weird but you didn’t let yourself think about it too much, instead thinking about a bigger issue: you really, really hoped Miguel wouldn’t be there when you got home. You got to the parking lot, getting off the bike, taking off the blue helmet and handing it back to him. “How do you even put this on with your hair?” You questioned.

He laughed. “I just like. Push it back.”

“But how does it not ruin it?”

He shrugged. “Power of the Hawk.” He smirked, full of himself.

“Oh, come on. I bet you walk around with a little bottle of hair gel so you can fix it when you take it off.”

“Magician never reveals his secrets-” he looked off at something behind you that caught his attention. You furrowed your eyebrows together in confusion, turning around to see what it was.

Miguel. He hadn't noticed your presence yet, but there was no way he wasn’t going to.

What do you do now? You felt paralyzed.

Hawk seemed to think of something before you could. He placed his helmet on the handle of the bike, very obviously making sure to make noise with it to attract attention, and leaned in, pulling you into a kiss. A… rather passionate one.

He pulled away, wordlessly leading you in the direction of your front door. You got the hint, walking to your place without turning around, and unlocking the door. He pushed you in and closed the door behind him with his foot, loudly. You stayed like that, with him leaning on the door and your bodies flushed together, in silence, trying to listen if Miguel was walking towards your door or not. After a couple seconds, you figured he was not, and you pulled away from him.

“Sorry,” he looked at the floor, sheepish. An usual sight for the new him. “First thing that came to mind.”

“Why is jumping each other the first thing that we think of when we panic?” You laughed.

Hawk laughed along, more at ease knowing you weren’t mad at him. “You did it first.”

You sat down on your couch, but he stayed standing. “Sorry to pull you into this. And thank you for helping out just now. Think I’ll just pity myself ‘till I sleep and then die of embarrassment tomorrow when I see him or something. You can go if you want.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll- yeah.” He started walking to the door, but stopped midway, turning around to face you again. “Hey what if-” he tried to find the words to explain his idea- “um- he probably thinks we’re dating right? Or at least hooking up, or something. I mean, after all the kissing… and stuff.”

“Shit. Yeah. I’ll clear things up, sorry-”

“No! What if- what if we let him?”

“What… do you mean?”

“What if we let him think we’re dating? And not just him. Everyone else too.”

“Why would we do that?”

“So he won’t think you're in love with him!”

“I’ll rephrase it then. Why would you do that?”

“I mean you know- you know I’m still really into Moon. Maybe we could make her… want what she can’t get?”

“You think that would work? On Moon?”

He just shrugged. “Maybe.”

“So you’re suggesting we fake-date.”

“I guess.”

“Have you never seen a movie with a fake dating trope? Doesn't end well.”

“What, you think you’ll catch feelings?” He opened his signature grin, and you sighed, annoyed.

“I’m just saying it’s probably gonna blow up on our face eventually.”

“Why? We can just pretend to date for like a couple weeks. And then we break up or whatever.”

“I’m not-” This could not be a good idea. Could it? “Look I’ll- I’ll think about it. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Sure.”

[. . .]

Miguel, Miguel, Miguel. Miguel seemed to be what occupied your thoughts the most. No matter how absurd the amount of drama you were going through was, your thoughts always came back to him.

But the night after the letters got out… it wasn't like that. Eli Moskowitz- well, Hawk, hadn’t been in your head all that much ever since you got over the last crush you had on him a couple years ago. But now Miguel wasn't the only thing in your head anymore, weird of a way as everything else had come into your thoughts.

So you decided.

A/N: in all honesty im only rewriting this because im in a bit of a slum and i almost deleted this off of my ao3 bc of how terribly written the original chapters are lol so idk here’s something someone might like i guess. I won’t be in any rush to post the chapters of this whatsoever, scandalous is 100% my priority this is just for some piece of mind bc I know I’m better than the shitty writing in the original version of this lol

[silent-raven13]

The Punks love Sunflower 2

(Part 1)

Miles could only giggle at them, they were back. After their orientation, they seem to enjoy each other companies. When they spot Miles walking in the halls, they took their chance to flirt with him: Sunflower! Sunflower! -the three Hobies came to hug and say hello to Miles-

Miles: Oh hey guys, how's things been? Liking Headquarters

Hobie 138c smirks along with the other two Hobies, he lifts Miles' hand: We only join to see your pretty face, darling!

Miles: Ehh, where did that come from? -he chuckles thinking it's a joke.-

Hobie 138d flirted: Are you free today? We can go to my world and watch me play my guitar! -he winks at Miles-

Miles: Well, I actually have to go home and-

Hobie 138e staring closely at Miles' face thinking he's too cute: Tansy...

Miles: Huh?

Hobie 138e: Tansy... you remind me of tansy flowers. -he nodded as his hand touch his chin while thinking. His face got close to Miles to study some more- Mmhhmm, Tansy.

Miles was about to speak-

Hobie 138d: How about we go somewhere to fight some bloody blokes? -he suggested-

Miles open his mouth: Well, actually-

Hobie 138c: Your busy today? How about spending the day with me? -he smirks getting closer to Miles, this time leaning against the wall. His left arm supporting half his body weight. All the Hobies are taller than Miles, who's only six foot tall. Crazy really, he still feels small.-

Miles: Actually, I'm sort of done for today. I have to watch my baby sister.

Hobie 138e: You have a baby sister? -being low spoken-

Hobie 138d: I got ten siblings!

Hobie 138c: I got only four. The youngest is a baby.

Miles: How many months? -being curious. His Hobie rarely talks about his family, so this will help him get an idea what home life is like from these Hobies-

Hobie 138c: About seven...

Miles: My sister is seven months, too! -being surprised by this-

Hobie 138c smirks having to lean over to get close to Miles' face: Then wouldn't you say that we're meant to be, luv?

Hobie 138d laughs out loud in amusement: Nah, he's meant for me.

Hobie 138e: Hmm, is that right?

Hobie 138d: Yeah, me and Bambi got chemistry!

Miles: Well it-

Hobie 138c ask another question: How's is it juggling between being Spiderman and being an older sibling, dear? You see for me, it's a bunch of bollocks!

Miles nodded: Yeah, I sometimes get so mad, because I have to figure out how to bring Billie or make sure she doesn't get hurt when she's with me? -He sighs-

Hobie 138c: Aye, you take your sprog with you? That's fucking wicked, mate! -He chuckles-

Miles always had trouble understand British slang or words, luckily his Hobie taught him a few words: Umm, yeah! -he was looking at context clues. He talked about his baby sister and Hobie refers her to a sprog... whatever that means-

Hobie 138e: The little nipper must have the time of her life, tansy. -A new nickname in the books for Miles-

Miles: Yeah, she loves being around me. Sometimes I have to wait till she takes a nap for me to get away.

Hobie 138d laughs out loud: My siblings too! They never leave me alone.

Hobie 138e: You still live with them?

Hobie 138d: I got four sprogs that are still kids, can't leave them behind, mate!

Hobie 138c: I sometimes visit my mum just to watch the little nipper.

Miles: Babies are cute until they start throwing up on you.

Hobie 138d: Luv, you love them, huh? How about me and you go make some babies?

Miles blinks: I'm a man.

Hobie 138d winks at him: Worth a try! Biology is just labels.

Miles' felt his cheeks warm: I don't think that's how-

Hobie 138c: If that's the case, what about trying with me, luv?

Hobie 138e: I don't mind participating, Sunflower.

Hobie 138b came back from a mission with Gwen, he went to HQ instead home to look for his Sunflower. They were planning spending the day together with Little Billie, even tho the little sprog dislike him. It's fun to be around a comfortable less hectic home, than his room in an abandon apartment. Luckily he found a steady place to stay with his bandmates: Oi, it's worth of try, darling! -Hearing a group of familiar voices. He follow the voices, still having his laid back walk with both his hands in his sleeveless jacket- What do you mean? It's biology! You can't go against your body? -Miles?, he thought to himself. His eyes spotted the three annoying Wankers that made his blood boil. Luckily they didn't spot him, so he got to hear the conversation. What are they going to say to his Sunflower? He sucked his teeth-

Hobie 138d have a big grin on his face: Then explain to me, why not, mate?

Miles began: Your saying Biology is labels, but it's science on life study. Human anatomy are built for certain purposes. You just can't say you arm isn't your arm?

Hobie 138c: But darling, we are saying we can try to get you pregnant!

Hobie 138b felt a strong wave of jealousy and anger, while those dumbasses flirting with his baby. Hobie 138e being the quiet one only listens the conversation. Hobie 138d: Yeah! We can try it!

Miles: Huh? You two are being crazy, man! We were just talki-

Hobie 138c finally noticed Hobie 138b then smirks to pissed him off even more. He leans closer to Miles: Then let's try it, now? -Getting too close for Miles' comfort-

Miles: Whaaa -Hobie 138c laughs out loud while Hobie 138e watches-

Hobie 138b scowls: AY! OI! OI, you bastards! What you doin' to my Sunflower! -He finally came into the group to break them up, he roughly kicks them trying to get them away from Miles.-

Hobie 138d laughs out loud: Relax, mate! We were only playing around with our, Sunflower!

Hobie 138b scowled even more: He's not yours! Get out of here, fucking wankers! -He kicks Hobie 138c first then Hobie 138d, being super pissed off.-

Miles blinks being surprised by his boyfriend coming out of nowhere, then saw the three Hobies saying their goodbyes: Bye, Sunflower! We'll talk later! -As Hobie 138b chase them off-

Hobie 138e gave Miles' a wink: See you, darling!

Miles waves them goodbye: Bye guys, nice chatting with you! -He's too kind for his own good yet so naive that Hobie 138c almost kissed him-

Hobie 138b cursing and scaring the Punk trios away, he fumes. Until he turns to find Miles standing behind him: Hobie? Oh! -Hobie quickly hugs him being too upset from the punks, and needy for his Sunflower. Miles could only thoughts about his boyfriend's attitude is that of a cute mad puppy, and smiles having to hug him back.- Hehe, you miss me, baby?

Hobie: Yeah... did those blokes tries anything else on you?

Miles: No, just talk, bae. -he giggles having to kiss Hobie on the cheek- Mi amor, it's all good. They were just fooling around.

Hobie buries his face into Miles' chest having to hunch over to his small Sunflower: Their a bunch of dolts!

Miles laughs again: Awe, come. Let's go to my place! I'll make it up to you with Tembleque! I helped my mom make it, since it's your favorite!

Hobie picks up Miles and kiss him on his left cheek: Your too good for me, Miles.

Miles: I can walk just fine, bae! And it's cuz I love you, mi alma! -Hobie nose rub his partner before going into the portal to Miles' world. Sometimes those punks know how to push Hobie's button. Yet, his Miles still go to him no matter what. Not even those punks can change Miles' mind-

(This was inspired from another artwork from @drenched-in-sunlight I love their cute comic of the concept art Hobies.)

[starpiastri]

4, 9, 11, 16 for the ask game :)))

hi sacha!!! answers below :)

4. How many WIPs do you have right now?

oh dear. serious wips there’s two? ish? kinkmemes i’ve got 4 in progress. i’ve not got anything out of wip hell in MONTHS (except if it’s for fests ha!) i need new motivation… think the new f1 books i got for xmas will hopefully help?

9. Do you write every day? If you wrote today, share a sentence of what you’ve written!

honestly yeah pretty much!!! i wrote a whole segment of worldbuilding for cyberpunk au today here’s that!

“A certain someone eating his christmas pie at six o clock. Looking for fresh meat, I’ve heard.”

Mark laughs and keeps his eyes at his drink in front of him. “You know me well enough. I’m not getting involved with his lot.”

DC pours a shot for himself, something pale. He backs it and slides the glass to the sink, watches closely as it nearly topples over. It stands on the edge and waits for the finger to push that never comes, and carries on in limbo.

“He’s got ambition.”

“Is ambition enough?”

DC hums, lips together as though thinking about it. He’s not, obviously. “I think it’s enough for you. You look tired.”

He does, but what DC means is Mark looks skint. He just blinks at the statement. “You and Alonso bickering again?” Mark blinks again, takes a big swig of his pint as if swallowing will drown out the sound of David’s gossip. “Ah, okay. You’re like teenagers. I’m telling you, move out, move on.”

Mark snorts, then. “You see any real estate going cheap around here? Anyway, we’re fine. Just a spat.” DC mouths ‘spat’ and Mark gives him the v’s, knowing exactly what he’s implying. That he’s right in every which way.

“Put it on my tab.”

“You don’t have a tab.”

Mark slides DC two credits, the harsh scrape of metal on metal, watches him closely to make sure he pockets it. Downs the last dregs of his drinks, and then stands up. “I’ll see you later.”

When he turns to leave, he does see little Christian Horner, sat in his corner. Up and coming. DC told him, months ago, how he’d delivered arms to DC’s boys. That he can’t be trusted but he could be paid. DC is full of useful information like this, if you prise it out of him with a screwdriver and elbow grease.

He’s deep in conversation with another man, one Mark can’t recognise from the back. He’s thin, bald. Authoritative in the way he commands the conversation, rather than his demeanor. Mark likes bosses like him more. It’s a shame that Christian has neither of the qualities, some mid ground semi-professional that loiters around here with the rest of the basement dwellers.

i don’t know if it’ll ever make the final cut but im just trying to get a feel of characters + roles atm. also maybe a bit of webbonso which is new for me! sebmark endgame tho as per usual ha

11. Do you have specific playlists for writing fics?

yes!!! sebmark have a playlist (though it’s outdated (i listened to it too much)). bad for business has a playlist, good men die too as well but cyberpunk doesn’t currently :/

i kind of hate phonk (nothing wrong w the genre i just over listened in 2021) which is really the only cyberpunk feel that spotify has given me. i am trying to be more creative in that regard tho. if anyone is invested in cyberpunk au listen to GOLDWING billie eilish! that’s my starting point for my new playlist

16. At what point in the process do you come up with titles?

i am TERRIBLE at titles. usually it’s me after editing and scrambling for lyrics or anything relevant. if there’s a specific song/vibe to go with it i usually then already have the title (bad for business, crush, thoroughfare, still here like a cheap threat) but that is VERY rare in terms of WIPS i’ve started

thank you!!!!! <3

[heroicintention]

𝑲𝑵𝑶𝑾𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑵𝑬𝑹 𝑾𝑬𝑳𝑳 𝑪𝑨𝑵 𝑷𝑶𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑰𝑨𝑳𝑳𝒀 𝑴𝑨𝑲𝑬 𝑾𝑹𝑰𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑻𝑶𝑮𝑬𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹 𝑨 𝑳𝑶𝑻 𝑬𝑨𝑺𝑰𝑬𝑹 . . .

NAME : Puff. also known as Puff Almight && Princess Pygmy Puffskein the Third. (don’t ask about the first and second)

PRONOUNS : she/her

NAME OF MUSE(S) : there’s… there’s so many but some of my mains rn are Carl Grimes, Beth Greene, Rick Grimes, Lizzie Samuels, Gabby Kinney, and Jason Todd 💕

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION : i am far more available on discord as i am on it… a lot. it is my preferred, my absolute darling of a social. however finding new writing partners on discord can be hella taxing so i’ve made my great return! however if you want my discord and we’re mutuals, feel free to ask!

EXPERIENCE / HOW LONG ( MONTHS / YEARS? ) : i started at 11 and i’m 25+ now so that should tell you it’s been a while. i started my first tumblr rp blog the day i turned 18, and this one is… a good few years old now 😅 (like I had mutuals that had been inactive for six years ffs)

BEST EXPERIENCE : i’ve had so many amazing experiances tbh and some of my best friends are online— but crossing my fingers i can meet a good few of them at a con this year (woo woo!!) my best experience tho has to be the server i run though. i’ve been able to see so many people work together, create bonds, and become genuine friends through love of fandom and genuine kind natures and i’m so happy i’ve had the ability to already meet some of them in person, exchange gifts, and have almost year long snapchat streaks.

RP PET PEEVES / DEALBREAKERS : when someone wants to write just for smut. vaguing. using interest in fictional topics to badmouth people. i don’t care what you write as long as you tag your shit i’m negl. i’m too old for this, and i’ve probably already read it in a published book anyhow splatterpunk fans put your hands up

MUSE PREFERENCES FLUFF, ANGST OR SMUT : i enjoy all of it tho i am pretty picky in writing smut given a lot of bad experiences with partners that ended up… only wanting to write smut. angst is PROBABLY my fav, i love making my muse a problem.

PLOTS OR MEMES : i honestly have a hard time plotting because i question how interesting my plots are… so i do prefer memes.

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES : anything but a one liner. on discord i’m super fond of text chat && short form but that’s usually in tandem with multi para. on here, i would prefer at least a paragraph tbh.

BEST TIME TO WRITE : whenever i have access to my phone, laptop, or a pen and paper honestly.

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S) : some of them i definitely have similarities to (Beth, Gwen, and— i would like to think— Snorkmaiden). but i also write a lot of very masculine men, violent as shit screwballs, and some plain problem children. while i do put some of myself into all my babies… i can’t claim to be like them.

Tagged by: @vulpineobedience

Tagging: anyone who wants to introduce themselves 👉🏻👈🏻

[cursingtoji]

— 𝕲𝖊𝖙𝖔 𝕾𝖊𝖓𝖘𝖊𝖎

tw: brat taming, teacher x f!student, manhandling, tit & ass slapping, spiting, geto is mean

ఇ Geto Sensei who is in charge of the badly behaved students, he’s the one that gotta put them in line and it’s not different with you.

ఇ Geto Sensei sees you sneaking out late at night to meet with yet another tinder date and can’t help smiling while watching you climbing the wall on that tight skirt. He laughs when walking past your training with Yuuta the next morning, pitting the kid being beaten with such anger even tho he has done nothing to deserve it but just happened to be the target of your sexual frustration that day.

ఇ Gojo Sensei who just wanted to complain a bit with his best friend but instead agreed to give up his troublesome student to more capable hands.

ఇ Geto Sensei that was there the next night you attempted to leave. Hearing your name being called in the dark, he comes out of the shadows arms crossed on his chest asking where you going, eyeing you up and down making you feel very aware of how revealing your clothes are.

ఇ Geto Sensei who always catch your eye when you walk past the training fields and see him shirtless and sweaty training with his latest student. You didn’t imagine back then you would be the student in this same position the next morning. Like your new sensei is taking revenge for the times you beat your teammates due to frustration.

ఇ Geto Sensei meets you six am outside making you run around the field until you had a hard time catching your breath then throws a wood sword at you so you can start practicing with him. In no time he has his body on top of you immobilizing you completely and thanks to the sexual frustration you got pent up that was not the worst thing that happened that day. Soon you realized the worst you behaved the more time you got to spend with your sensei.

ఇ Geto Sensei realizes what you’re trying to do and can’t just give in as you please. Not even when he sees your pretty panties as you bend over to get a book of the lowest shelf knowing he’s looking.

ఇ Geto Sensei is right there when you open your door all dolled up for some new jackass. “Again with this shit?” he takes a few steps in closing the door behind him not giving you time to respond before pressing you on the wall. “Are you that desperate that you need to leave at two am to beg a complete stranger to make you cum?” his words catch you off-guard, not the scolding you were expecting.

ఇ Geto Sensei raises your skirt cupping your intimacy and whistling while taking a look at the lacy underwear you had on for special occasions. “Really?” he tsks running his middle finger through your slit, you squirm and try to close your legs but every cell in your body is begging for more of this.

ఇ Geto Sensei roughly turns you around ripping your pathetic underwear with his bare hands and press your cheek on the cold wall. “Is this what you wear when you leave the academy?” he displays the rags in front of your face, “How’s this been working for you?” he whispers in your ear fully aware that you haven’t had a successful date in months.

ఇ Geto Sensei doesn’t really care if he has gotten you in a compromising position when the door is not even locked, he has been wanting to do that for a long time.

ఇ Geto Sensei who’s knuckle deep inside you whispering how bad you’ve been, fingers working your g-spot as you still have your cheek pressed on the wall incapable to do anything beside moaning apologies. “Whatcha sorry about, sweet cheeks? Being a brat that got me scolded for not being able to put you in line?” you had no idea about that. “What was that?” he starts to pump faster, lewd sounds coming of your pussy as you climax on his fingers. “That’s what I thought” in one move he throws you onto the bed.

ఇ Geto Sensei that ties your wrists behind your back and once again rips your blouse in the middle exposing your chest to him, at this point you are begging your sensei to do something but all you get is a burning slap on your tits that makes them jiggle. “Brats don’t get what they want, you already got way more than you should’ve” you squeal when he pinches your nipples, managing to say you will be good from now on.

ఇ Geto Sensei that loves to watch you beg for more, his pants are already tight, but he wants to play with you a little more. “Good, huh? I don’t think you mean that, I think…” suddenly your face is down and ass up, “…as soon as you get to cum on my cock you will be back on your bad behaviour” he delivers one strong slap on your right cheek before bending down to whisper directly in your ear, “But if you can take these I will consider giving you what you want” he bites your lobe. “Count.”

ఇ Geto Sensei that stops when your cheek is red and hot, rubbing it with his palm and finally giving you a break from counting. “See? That wasn’t so bad” he releases your wrists turning you around and smiling at your face wet from crying and drooling, “Aw, look at that” he holds your face with one hand pressing his fingers on both sides of your cheeks, “So messy” holding you he takes one long lick across your face then forces you to open your mouth before spiting inside and watching it slide down your throat. With your hands free you tug on his pants saying how good you were. “You were, now let’s see how good you are at keeping it low while I have my way with you.”

ఇ Gojo Sensei who congratulated his friend after few weeks noticing how well-behaved and dedicated you have become, unaware of the remote control Geto had inside his pocket that kept the toy inside you vibrating nice and easy.

[chayscribbles]

chayscribbles’ monthly writing update ☆ january 2023

☆ STATISTICS.

words written: 10 029

projects worked on: Andromeda Rogue; The Gemini Heist; and a Third, Secret Thing :)

proudest accomplishment: uhhh i can't really thing of anything... i made it to 10k words for the month at the very last minute does that count

books read: Six Wakes by Mur Lafferty; Station Eternity by Mur Lafferty

☆ GENERAL COMMENTS.

as you may or may not have noticed i haven't really been active on writeblr lately. between work, the fact that it's january, and having to shovel through, like, 4 snow storms, i haven't really had the time or energy.

started the writing year super strong. hit a wall about halfway and have since been in a terrible slump for most of the month.

however it turns out that you can trick your brain into thinking it's experiencing New WIP Euphoria by digging up and revamping an old wip (i.e. the Third, Secret Thing).

book comments: both books i read were about murder in space. both were pretty good. both get a solid 4/5 stars.

(between that, watching Glass Onion, rewatching Murder She Wrote, and starting to watch Columbo, i think i'm on a bit of a murder kick lately.)

more specific wip-related comments + featured excerpt below.

☆ COMMENTS: ANDROMEDA ROGUE (draft 2)

not much to say about this one tbh. while most of my words from this month came from this wip, i've,, mostly just been patching up little things like smoothing over inconsistent details and adding a little meat to description and exposition... but i've been procrastinating on fixing the Big Stuff 😭

i really like how the new version is turning out compared to the first version tho. it's so much cleaner & that's very satisfying.

if only i could just *clenches fist* get myself to actually fuckin work on it

☆ COMMENTS: THE GEMINI HEIST (outlining / draft 0.5 or something)

i finished part 1 of 7!... and now i have no idea what i'm doing.

i don't think i like fast drafting lol. i hate how shitty my quality of writing has been. and yeah whatever that's the point of a fast draft blablabla but like, when my draft is already a little bit readable i can go back and reread parts and be like "oh hey this isn't half bad". and i know people are always like "don't reread right away!!! just keep writing!!!!!!!" but for me rereading as i go is part of the process lmao. not only does it remind me of important things i would otherwise forget, it also encourages me to keep going when i see that what i've done isn't terrible.

and... with this fast draft everything just feels terrible.

not to mention i can't seem to untangle plot... heists are fuckin hard to plan. especially since there's multiple opposing parties with different plans that are all going to inevitably go to shit, and so i have to make more plans for when that happens. it feels so complicated uuuggghghhhgh

☆ COMMENTS: a Third, Secret Thing (???)

i'm not gonna talk about it too much publicly yet so i don't jinx whatever is going on here (and i want to make sure i'm a bit more committed to this thing before introducing anything) but all i'll say is it's an older wip that i've talked about on my old blog that i've dug out and changed the genre into a dark modern fantasy mystery with messy sapphics.

☆ FEATURED EXCERPT.

alright i know i said i didn't want to talk too much about the Third Secret Thing yet but i couldn't find any passages to share in either AR or GH... so have this, with very little context :') uhhh tw for mentions of death and murder.

That’s how she ended up peeking groggily out the door at the frigid winter morning, having hastily thrown a sweatshirt over her pyjamas and a towel over her hair, only to have two police officers inform her that Vanessa Villa-Cortez had been found dead in her apartment early that morning.

“D… dead?” Amina repeated, her mind in a haze. She had to still be asleep, right? Maybe the guilt over ignoring that text had seeped into her subconscious and was feeding her dreams. There was no way someone was at her door telling her that Vanessa, a girl she hadn’t heard from in nearly seven years, was… was—

“Killed in an apparent burglary gone wrong last night,” said one of the officers gravely. “A neighbour noticed the door had been clearly forced in, went inside to check, and found Miss Villa-Cortez’s body on the floor of her apartment.”

Amina’s head began to swim. She clutched the doorposts to keep her buckling knees from giving way completely beneath her. No. No. Vanessa couldn’t be dead. Amina still had to answer her text.

if you know you know ;)

☆ TAGLISTS. let me know if you want to be added/removed to any of them.

genera taglist:

@nicola-writes @dgwriteblr @the-orangeauthor @retrogayyde @quilloftheclouds @ashen-crest @writeblrfantasy @celestepens @stardustspiral @pepperdee @extra-magichours @avi-why @lefttigerobservation @chazzawrites @bardolatrycore @innocentlymacabre

andromeda trilogy taglist:

@bebewrites @nicola-writes @dgwriteblr @the-orangeauthor @retrogayyde @akindofmagictoo @quilloftheclouds @nora-theteawriter @ashen-crest @corpsepng @writeblrfantasy @chaylattes @toboldlywrite @celestepens @stardustspiral @pepperdee @cheerfulmelancholies @extra-magichours @writeouswriter @cilly-the-writer @lefttigerobservation @rose-bookblood @drowsy-quill @chazzawrites @cynic-and-chief @enchanted-lightning-aes @aesa

gemini heist taglist:

@florraisons @akindofmagictoo @cream-and-tea @nicola-writes @memento-morri-writes @antique-symbolism @rose-bookblood @afoolandathief @pepperdee @avi-why @zonnemaagd @chazzawrites @analogued @enchanted-lightning-aes @innocentlymacabre @kahvilahuhut @celestepens @cilly-the-writer @extra-magichours @retrogayyde

[flightfoot]

Abuse and how it plays into Identity in Tower of Nero

While abuse has played a role in previous Trials of Apollo books, and in the Greco-Roman main series as a whole, Tower of Nero digs into it most deeply.

Identity and recovery from abuse are deeply linked here, with much of the abuse recovery coming from forging an identity separate from the abuser.

Previously it mostly came up in The Hidden Oracle and The Burning Maze, with Meg’s relationship with Nero prompting Apollo to examine his own relationship with Zeus. 

Apollo knew in the back of his head that Zeus was abusing him, that his rage against the Cyclopes for creating the lightning bolt Zeus used to murder Asclepius, for instance, was him redirecting his anger onto a safer target because raging against Zeus directly was so unsafe, but he tried not to let himself think about it too much, and he tried to fool himself into thinking that Zeus DID care about him, that he loved him, at least enough that he’d help him if he saw him in trouble. 

Seeing Meg with Nero, how he manipulated her, how he subtly blamed her for anything bad that happened around her, for anything HE did, while trying to seem gentle and kind; seeing the abuse he went through reflected in this young girl led him to cope with his own abuse better. 

His experiences with abuse, with Zeus treating him as a scapegoat and ‘forcing’ him to punish Apollo if he stepped out of line, with his own feelings about the abuse and his own coping mechanisms and behavior as a result, are a useful reference for understanding and helping Meg through her experiences with Nero.

And helping her cope, separate, and try to grow after being manipulated by Nero for so long? Helps him come to terms with his own experiences.

He’s pretty explicit about the comparisons too. Like when Meg talks about how Lu used to help her pretend to kill people for Nero, helped her how she could, but Apollo’s mostly just horrified that Lu stuck around and didn’t take Meg and run... and yet part of him understood.

And are you any better? taunted a small voice in my brain. How many times have you stood up to Zeus?

Okay, small voice. Fair point. Tyrants are not easy to oppose or walk away from, especially when you depend on them for everything. (TON 57)

Lu may not have been quite as dependent on Nero as say, Meg - at least psychologically. Lu’s not a child by any means. 

But Lu’s only immortal because Nero is, and he can, presumably, revoke that. Nero provides her employment, a home, probably her entire social circle, AND he has the power and the will to go after her and anyone she cares about if she strays, if she tries to defy him. 

In those ways, her situation mirrors Apollo’s even better than Meg’s does - and while he’s angry at her for not defying Nero, he also understands. 

I suspect part of his anger and suspicion at her is also anger and suspicion of himself, for falling into a similar trap.

Still, though Lu has her own baggage with Nero, Meg’s is focused on a lot more, with how she’s grown and changed, and her desire to hang onto who she’s become while separated from Nero, to hang onto her own identity and personality and not what Nero attempted to shape her into. 

It’s to the point that she can barely comprehend who she was under him, how she used to think, what she did.

“I betrayed you once,” she said. “Right here in these woods.”

She didn’t sound sad or ashamed about it, the way she once might have. She spoke with a sort of dreamy disbelief, as if trying to recall the person she’d been six months ago. That was a problem I could relate to. (TON 114)

Meg hasn’t really changed at her core as much as Apollo has - as much as she’s gone through, she at least wasn’t much of a jerk in the first place. Well, relatively speaking, when compared to Apollo. She’s abrasive, but not much beyond that.

But she HAS changed, in large part BECAUSE she’s more able and willing to stand up for herself in ways that she couldn’t do remotely safely while with Nero. She’s broken free of his psychological hold. 

During The Hidden Oracle she was ALREADY rebelling against him, she refused to burn the woods, but... well, she DID go with him, DID believe she could change him for awhile. 

But she broke free after realizing he wouldn’t, escaped and returned to Apollo, freeing herself from Nero’s grasp once more. 

For her, I think the difference between who she was six months ago and who she is now has less to do with her actual personality and worldview - those haven’t actually changed all that much throughout the books - but just in being free, somewhat safe (well, safer emotionally at least), and genuinely cared for. To not be under Nero’s influence to the same extent.

With Apollo... well, it’s a bit different with him. Zeus wasn’t as controlling as Nero, Apollo COULD have kept his space from him before; his sister has been doing that for millennia. But he has still changed a lot, moreso than Meg did, to the point that he’s almost unrecognizeable from who he was when he first fell to earth in THO.

Newly experiencing kindness, regular affection, and just having other people care about him though? He shares that with Meg.

Not that people have never been nice to him before, that’s not the case. But to have people be nice to him who he wouldn’t think would need to be, when he’s vulnerable... there’s a reason he’s been extremely touched when that’s happened even back from THO, and in this book he breaks down pretty much every time.

Meg struggles with needing to retain her independence, the new sense of herself she’s acquired during her journey with Apollo.

“I have to go back,” Meg insisted. “I have to see if I’m strong enough.”

Peaches cuddled up next to her as if he had no such concerns.

Meg patted his leafy wings. “Maybe I’ve gotten stronger. But when I go back to the palace, will it be enough? Can I remember to be who I am now and not… who I was then?”

I didn’t think she expected an answer. But it occurred to me that perhaps I should be asking myself that same question.

Since Jason Grace’s death, I’d spent sleepless nights wondering if I could keep my promise to him. Assuming I made it back to Mount Olympus, could I remember what it was like to be human, or would I slip back into being the self-centered god I used to be?

Change is a fragile thing. It requires time and distance. Survivors of abuse, like Meg, have to get away from their abusers. Going back to that toxic environment was the worst thing she could do. And former arrogant gods like me couldn’t hang around other arrogant gods and expect to stay unsullied.

But I supposed Meg was right. Going back was the only way to see how strong we’d gotten, even if it meant risking everything. (TON 114-115)

Meg needs to keep her identity she’s created for herself away from Nero. But her question about remembering to be who she is now versus who she was back then fits Apollo’s conundrum better, something that is clearly not lost on Apollo.

I knew my anxiety about my own weakness was getting mixed up with my anxiety about Meg. Even if I somehow made my way back to Mount Olympus, I didn’t trust myself to hold onto the important things I’d learned as a mortal. That made me doubt Meg’s ability to stay strong in her old toxic home.

The similarities between Nero’s household and my family on Mount Olympus made me increasingly uneasy. The idea that we gods were just as manipulative, just as abusive as the worst Roman emperor… Surely that couldn’t be true.

Oh, wait. Yes, it could. Ugh. I hated clarity. (TON 225-226)

Meg’s captured, being fully under Nero’s influence once more, with him trying to twist everything to be Apollo’s or Meg’s faults, trying to twist it so that every bit of distress that he puts Meg through is somehow the fault of her or her allies.

She picked up the chair and threw it across the room - but not at Nero. It whanged off the window, leaving a smudge but no cracks. I caught the flicker of a smile on Nero’s face - a smile of satisfaction - before his expression fixed back into a mask of sympathy. “Yes, dear. This anger comes from guilt. You led Apollo here. You understood what that meant, what would happen. But you did it anyway. That must be so painful... knowing you brought him to his end (TON 235)

This kind of manipulation is Nero’s trademark, he uses it for most of the book. Telling Meg what she’s feeling, telling her that she’s feeling this way because of something wrong SHE did, not because of the horrible things NERO did. Trying to rewrite her reality to fall in line with what HE wants her to believe, to think.

Nero makes her change clothes, has her scrub up, even has her get a pedicure. 

Normally this would sound like a good thing. But it’s just one of the ways he tries to rewrite who she is, to break her sense of identity and replace it with one more to his liking. By taking away things that showed her own personal style, he took away reminders of who she is, as well as showing his ability to exert control over her, make her believe she has no choices.

My heart broke. Meg looked elegant, older, and quite beautiful. She also looked utterly, completely no longer herself. Nero had tried to strip away everything she had been, every choice she’d made, and replace her with someone else - a proper young lady of the Imperial Household. (TON 285-286) 

Nero continues to try to twist the circumstances, to brainwash Meg into believing that he’s her savior and Apollo and the others may harm her. But Apollo keeps protesting, leading to this scene:

I tried to contain my horror. “Meg,” I said. “There’s only one person you need to listen to here: yourself. Trust yourself.”

I meant it, despite all my doubts and fears, despite all my complaints over the months about Meg being my master. She had chosen me, but I had also chosen her. I did trust her - not in spite of her past with Nero, but because of it. I had seen her struggle. I’d admired her hard-won progress. I had to believe in her for my own sake. She was - gods help me - my role model. (TON 293)

Ultimately, MEG’S the one who decides. Who fights back. Because she was able to listen to herself, to not be twisted by Nero’s lies and deceptions.

“I didn’t kill my father,” she said, her voice small and hard. “I didn’t cut off Lu’s hands or enslave those dryads or twist us all up inside.” She swept a hand towards the other demigods of the household. “You did that, Nero. I hate you.” (TON 295)

This was the tipping point. When she announced, to herself and everyone else, the truth. The reality. Rejecting Nero’s attempts to rewrite it.

Nero hissed. “Ungrateful child. The Beast-”

“The Beast is dead.” Meg tapped the side of her head. “I killed it.” (TON 311)

I notice here she tapped the side of her head. Of course, she didn’t literally kill The Beast; Nero’s still alive after all.

But The Beast was a psychological trick Nero used on Meg, to make her separate him into two people; the ‘nice’ stepfather, and The Beast that takes over and punishes if she misbehaves. 

She ‘killed’ it, because she killed the concept.

There was never a Beast.

There was only ever Nero.

And now that she’s gotten out from under his thumb? She reasserts her own identity.

Meg had thrown away her sandals, braving bare feet despite the arrows, rubble, bones, and discarded blades that littered the floor. Someone had given her an orange Camp Half-Blood shirt, which she’d put on over her dress, making her allegiance clear. She still looked older and more sophisticated, but she also looked like my Meg. (TON 323)

I like the emphasis on how she looks older, but also like herself. She looks like what Nero made her into still, in a way - she’s still wearing that dress after all - but she’s made it her own, integrated herself into it.

It nicely parallels Apollo’s own situation, with needing to integrate who he’s become as Lester, who he’s grown to be, with his godly identity. Because things WILL be different once he’s a god again; he’ll have power he doesn’t have now, will have exposure to other gods that he doesn’t currently have. So he needs to figure out how to handle that, how to be a god, how to be Apollo while not losing what he’s gained as Lester.

Even if I survived, I would not be the same. The best I could hope for was to emerge from Delphi with my godhood restored, which was what I had wanted and dreamed about for the past half a year. So why did I feel so reluctant about leaving behind the broken, battered form of Lester Papadopolous? (TON 327)

Like Meg was, Apollo’s struggling to get ahold of his own identity before he has to face his abuser again, has to re-enter that old toxic environment. He fears that if the trappings of “Lester” are destroyed, then like with Nero changing Meg’s clothes, that he’ll lose part of his connection to who he’s become.

As Apollo fights Python, his mortal body becomes less and less mortal, bringing him into an in-between, in-flux state that mirrors his internal identity crisis.

“YOU CAN’T HIDE!” Python bellowed. “YOU ARE NO GOD!”

This pronouncement hit me like a bucket of ice water. It didn’t carry the weight of prophecy, but it was true nonetheless. At the moment, I wasn’t sure what I was. I certainly wasn’t my old godly self. I wasn’t exactly Lester Papadopolous either. My flesh steamed. Pulses of light flickered under my skin, like the sun trying to break through storm clouds. When had that started?

I was between states, morphing as rapidly as Python himself. I was no god. I would never be the same old Apollo again. But in this moment, I had the chance to decide what I would become, even if that new existence only lasted a few seconds.

The realization burned away my delirium.

“I won’t hide,” I muttered. “I won’t cower. That’s not who I will be.” (TON 339-340)

Like with Meg before, he’s deciding, affirming for himself what kind of person he is now, who he wants to be, different from who he was before.

Even during the fight with Python, some small part of him hopes Zeus will intervene, will see he’s done enough and help him, save him. But here, that instinct is quashed for the final time.

I had done my best. Surely, Zeus would see that and be proud. Maybe he would send down a lightning bolt, blast Python into tiny pieces, and save me!

As soon as I thought this, I realized how foolish it was. Zeus didn’t work that way. He would not save me anymore than Nero had saved Meg. I had to let go of that fantasy. I had to save myself. (TON 341)

Much like with how Meg hoped back near the beginning of the series that Nero really would change, really was a good person deep down, Apollo kept up the hope in early entries that Zeus DID care about him and would come to save him at any moment. And even in later books, heck, even in THIS book, with Meg still calling Nero her stepfather a few times and the part of Apollo hoping that Zeus will intervene now, it’s hard to break the desire, the belief that that person who SHOULD care about you, surely will now.

But both of them break past that. Meg calls Nero out, rejects his attempts to rewrite reality, and Apollo kills the idea that Zeus might intervene on his behalf.

By the time Apollo’s a god again, he has a firm bead on the kind of person Zeus is, as well as the type of environment Mt. Olympus is, with most of his family just watching his trials and tribulations, everything he and his friends went through, and betting on the outcome. Only Artemis and Hera seemed to take things seriously, seemed to deeply care whether he lived or died.

Not that the others could have interfered against Zeus’s wishes.

As much as we pretended to be a council of twelve, in truth we were a tyranny. Zeus was less a benevolent father and more an iron-fisted leader with the biggest weapons and the ability to strip us of our immortality if we offended him. (TON 366)

Apollo just kind of hangs back for the council session, having little to say to anyone except Artemis, not caring much about what the other Olympians thought, and not really feeling like one of them as a whole. Though that was true even before he actually walked into the room.

I remembered my dream of the throne room - the other Olympians gambling on my success or failure. I wondered how much money they’d lost.

What could I possibly say to them? I no longer felt like one of them. I wasn’t one of them. (TON 358)

And finally, the long-awaited confrontation scene with Zeus. It wasn’t long. It wasn’t flashy. Unlike Meg, he couldn’t attack and get rid of his abuser, couldn’t get out from under his influence entirely. Zeus is King of the Gods; realizing that he’s an abusive asshole doesn’t change that.

But he COULD change his own response to the situation.

My father coughed into his fist. “ I know you think your punishment was harsh, Apollo.”

I did not answer. I tried my best to keep my expression polite and neutral.

“But you must understand,” Zeus continued, “only you could have overthrown Python. Only you could have freed the Oracles. And you did it, as I expected. The suffering, the pain along the way… regrettable, but necessary. You have done me proud.”

Interesting how he put that: I had done him proud. I had been useful in making him look good. My heart did not melt. I did not feel that this was a warm-and-fuzzy reconciliation with my father. Let’s be honest: some fathers don’t deserve that. Some fathers aren’t capable of it.

I suppose I could have raged at him and called him bad names. We were alone. He probably expected it. Given his awkward self-consciousness at the moment, he might even have let me get away with it unpunished.

But it would not have changed him. It would not have made anything different between us.

You cannot change a tyrant by trying to out-ugly him. Meg could never have changed Nero, any more than I could change Zeus. I could only try to be different than him. Better. More… human. And to limit the time I spent around him to as little as possible. (TON 367-368)

Apollo just... let go of any attachment to Zeus. It reminded me of the Cumaen SIbyl, with how she forgave Apollo for her own sake, how Apollo felt that he himself was being erased by that. 

This isn’t a reconciliation; this is simply Apollo putting Zeus as far behind him as possible and trying to let him take up as little space in his life as he can. He may not be able to cut all ties to him, but he can at least minimize his connection to him, his influence over him.

In the end, Apollo doesn’t even really consider what he went through to be a punishment; not really.

To be honest, though, I could no longer consider my time on Earth a punishment. Terrible, tragic, nearly impossible… yes. But calling it a punishment gave Zeus too much credit. It had been a journey - an important one I made for myself, with the help of my friends. I hoped… I believed that the grief and pain had shaped me into a better person. I had forged a more perfect Lester from the dregs of Apollo. I would not trade those experiences for anything. And if I had been told I had to be Lester for another hundred years… Well, I could think of worse things. At least I wouldn’t be expected to show up at the Olympian solstice meetings. (TON 373)

Like with his conversation with Zeus, he’s minimizing Zeus’s control, his influence over himself and his life. 

And in the end, Apollo leaves Mt. Olympus as soon as he can to spend time with all the new friends he’s made, away from the toxic influences of Olympus and of Zeus especially. Reaffirming his new identity, his new self by appearing in his Lester form, the form he’d grown in, that he’d forged for himself.

I just really love how in-depth Tower of Nero went, especially with the way it emphasized the identity manipulation and erasure involved with some kinds of abuse.

[goatsandgangsters]

so what is grishaverse? i could just google it, but i kind of want to hear it from a fan

hello yes! happy to help! I also love to be categorized as a fan here because the reality is that these books have been loitering on my to-read list for several years until netflix forced my hand and I was like “o fuk, o shit, I gotta read those now” and then tore through binge-reading/absolutely devouring them over the past couple months (and I’m not normally a media-binger, but man, these books go FAST and they hook ya) and now Am Love It Very Much

Non-spoilery lore summary of where things start out: Set in a fantasy world based on tsarist/19th-century Russia. Some people—called Grisha—have powers. Everywhere else in the world, Grisha are oppressed, but In Fantasy Russia they’re now warily tolerated as a useful military branch. There are three broad categories of Grisha types, which are basically “medical school but make it magic” (people whose power is either to Fuck Shit Up in your body or to heal it), “long ago the four three nations lived together in harmony” (airbenders, waterbenders, firebenders), and “extreme DIY crafting” (they make/invent stuff real good). However, Our Protagonist discovers she has the rare Grisha power of being able to summon sunlight. Which is particularly useful when your war-torn country is cut off from its only coastline by A Giant Enormous Area Of Total and Absolute Darkness That Monsters Live In. /CUE DRAMATIC MUSIC

You’ve got POWERS! You’ve got HISTORICALLY-INSPIRED-YET-DISTINCTLY-FANTASY AESTHETICS! You’ve got POLITICAL INTRIGUE and WAR! You’ve got HEISTS and CRIMES! You’ve got FANTASY ANALOGIES FOR REAL-WORLD OPPRESSION! You’ve got some really great CHARACTERS! It’s fun, it’s fast, it’s absorbing.

Book series structure: There are a couple different sets of books set within the Grishaverse. The first is a trilogy (“the grisha trilogy”)—the first book of which is called Shadow and Bone, from which the Netflix adaptation draws its name. That’s a three-book series focused on the aforementioned sunlight protagonist. THEN there is another duology of books (which are six of crows and crooked kingdom), which is set in the same universe, but focuses on an entirely different set of characters, with an entirely different storyline, in a different/neighboring country from Fantasy Russia, and also it’s set slightly after the first trilogy. Book-wise, they’re very much separate entities. While the trilogy has sort of a “you’re the chosen one, save your country” vibe with big political players, the duology has more of a “be gay, do crime” vibe that’s more gritty with gang of found family do a heist. (Tho if you’re looking at content that’s on my blog, I’ve only reblogged trilogy-focused posts because I am Not Yet Done With The Duology Books.) I have to respect an author who creates a sandbox and then doesn’t want to stop playing in it, because that’s probably exactly what I would do too.

TV adaptation structure: the SHOW, which is called Shadow and Bone and which drops on Netflix in a couple weeks, is combining both of those sets of books into one plotline, even though they are very much separate in the books. It seems like they’re planning to follow the plot of the first (trilogy) book pretty closely, while weaving in the characters from the duology as more of a prequel to their own books. So it’ll be interesting to see how they do that, because they’re fusing together these different stories into one.

So that’s why the use of “grishaverse” is useful because you have these multiple sets of stories that take place within the same world but that focus on different things and different people in different places—but that will be woven together more fully in the upcoming adaptation—so it’s a useful catch-all term for The World This Is Set In 

If you’re intrigued by the show but reasonably can’t commit to binge-reading an entire book series in the span of the next two weeks, it DOES seem like it’s designed to be enjoyable to both book fans and to people who are totally brand new to the world. That said, even though I just dumped a lot of info on you about trilogies and duologies (and those five aren’t even the entirety of books published within this world but I wanted to stick to the Key Info), the books and the world are actually super accessible. The pacing is fast, so I found them to be quick reads. The world-building is presented in a way that’s really clear and digestible; I never felt thrown into something huge that I didn’t understand, which can happen with some fantasy series. While the world itself is broad and sweeping, the way these stories are told and the way they unfold felt like something that I could jump immediately into without any foreknowledge and immediately feel like I understood what was going on. I literally osmosis’d ZERO THINGS about the series(es?) when I started reading—and I didn’t even read the blurb on the back!—but it was a really accessible and easy world to enter into.

Also, I did NOT expect to get as totally hooked as I did. But the timing has been really fun for me actually, because I get to absolutely devour this fun, engaging book series and then immediately I’ll get to revisit it in a different way when the show drops!

[deepdonutkid]

🌹📕💔 (I'm going for the angst) 💯(I bet you did something cool)💄🥁❤️

I AM THE SPAM MONSTER

Thank you!

🌹 - are you a romantic?

In my mind, yes... in action... not really?

I crave a different kind of intimacy and that's not typical romantic, because I think that's mostly pointless shit. Like giving cut flowers... They die so soon and and a potted plant won't die, but that's of course less romantic.

Also... I don't like the typical idea of dating and stuff. That's so annoying. Honestly, fuck the roses and the pralines and the surprises... I don't need that.

I value somebody loyal, honest, funny and smart over some fuckboy with romantic bullshit.

Acts and services and compliments are far more attractive for me. And I do them also a lot. Like I shower a person with affection and I do everything for them. But mostly it's not even romantic. I start cleaning or doing the laundy, so the person doesn't have to.

My stories are a different thing tho, because that's just living in my mind and it's not actually based on efficency (because I love slooooow burn)

📕 - what’s your favorite book?

I got that question for several times now and my opinion on this still haven't changed! It's torture the artist by Joey Goebel, which is an amazing book about the modern view on art and music industry and how creative people tend to suffer in order to make great art.

💔 - have you ever broken a heart/had your heart broken?

I guess, I was heart broken twice and I broke four hearts at least. Maybe I forgot someone, but... hahaha, that's still not good stats for me right.

To be honest, my ex and me, we wrecked each other equally. She was in love with me, when I was still into somebody else, but he was still in a relationship. Which broke my heart for the first time and it took me super long to get over it.

But then I moved on and started dating my ex. She broke up with me after six month and it was pretty much out of the blue for me and I cried a lot and she told me to not cry.... like what the fuck did she thought, what would happen? I would be super happy about it.

Anyways, the boy, I was into before, was single again... a month after my break-up with my ex... So... what did I do? Well, of course, I didn't hesitate, because I longed to be with him for a very long time and I missed him and we had a connection. So... why wait?

My ex wasn't too happy, when she found out and accused me of not loving her, which was a shitty thing to say and it hurt like hell, because she had no right to talk about my feelings like that... and I did love her.

Yeah, both times, I got my heart broken and there is still another funny story about the time I broke somebody's heart.

To be honest, I'm quite a bitch in this story, but I was a different person back then.

Soo... when I was 15, there was this guy, I hung out in breaks and we had no classes together, but we were friends and he invited me to a town fair, because he was part of a club or something and then, we told hands there and we kissed like... once? I just remember his sweaty hands to be honest.

Months passed, we were chatting and everything, nothing special and we didn't got far or something... when he wrote me, he was with friends and he accidently made out with another girl. Funny, huh? How is that even possible? But he told me, it won't happen again and everything... and I was like: "dude, that's not a problem for me. just chill" and he was like: "why are you not mad at me? You are my girlfriend" and I said: "That's a new information for me. I didn't know, we were in some sort of relationship and you didn't ask me"

"Yeah, but... I love you"

And I was like: "Seen 19:45"

After that I got a lot of mean messages from his friends... but funny thing tho, one of them developed a crush on me. And apparently, I was a bad person in this story. But yooo... I was lost in translation here.

💯 - what’s something you are extremely proud of right now?

answering this long ask? Honey, really, I don't know, if I'm proud of anything this moment... because I don't do anything right now. No writing, no drawing, no cleaning and well, I played witcher the whole day, but that's not an archivement.

I'm looking forward to write something soon again, but right now I got nothing. Maybe I work on my multi.chap again, because it's not abanoned yet, I just wrote requests instead of a next chapter.

💄 - do you wear makeup?

Yes, but either all or nothing. I don't do natural looks or something. Either I look like a hobo with cholera or like a drag queen, nothing in the middle. I would even do so far and say... I'm good at doing make-up, but just my own. When I do other people it's kinda weird.

🥁 - do you play an instrument?

I used to play the flute and bongos... but that was when I was three years old and I forgot everything and since then I'm very untalented at playing anything of instrument. I can't even hold a rythm... it's just not in me. I love music and I love a musician, but I can't play for shitbricks XD

❤️ - do you have a crush right now

On a lot of fictional characters and my bf, which I love dearly for six years now and I remember the time I had a proper crush on him so well. I was acting like an idiot around him and everybody knew. I couldn't hide it!

[overdramaticly-dying]

Many Unhappy Returns

Sorry for being gone from these for so long! I was really upset after Rise ended, and just sorta lost my energy there for a while- but I am feeling pretty confident that we can get it back!! 

In the meantime though, it’ll be fun to talk about some episodes! So per request that is over six months old now (sorry @alwayshere195​) Many Unhappy Returns!

- We all know how much the visuals in this show absolutely slap but this episode really kicks it off right away with beautiful scenery

- “Thanks for doing the dirty work for us! Big up Shreddy!” (the fact that this is their super-great-Grandfather makes this so much funnier for reasons I can’t explain)

-Leo would have been seriously injured in the Shredder hadn’t just disappeared like that

- “You fools! You have doomed humanity!” “Have we? No seriously, tell me, this has all been very confusing.”

- “Wow, one season later and I still got full battery, nice!”

- Leo’s overall support of his brothers and his confidence that they can handle it is actually really sweet

- April’s ‘get to safety song’ 

-”Two data points? You’re hypothesising with two data points? Scoff!” 

*Fifteen minutes later*

- ok but just in general, I just really love that they aren’t afraid to have Mikey have genuinely good ideas

- “No one’s responding, I’m the only one who made it!”

- “really? cause’ I thought my overall ninjocity was totally working” “It wasn’t”  “I’m pretty sure it was about to...”

- “She’ll help me! I’m the face man, people love me!” “Last time you saw her she tried to kill you.”  “Who hasn’t?”

- why are there so many good Leo lines? Also, just in general, despite this being a serious episode, the comedy still slaps while not seeming out of place- this is why I love rise tbhhh

-ngl the entire scene where Splinter tells Leo that Big Mama is his ex is probably one of the funniest things ever

- Splinter apparently met Big Mama in 1984- I kinda wonder if that was a nod to the fact that the og tmnt comic books came out in ‘84

- Splinter’s story is actually really sad tho- he lost so many people in his life, and finally thought he had found happiness with Big Mama, who he assumed was just a driver, not even an actor. Then he was betrayed by her.

-Big Mama’s assistant is there, just standing around and looking cool while the entire fandom begs to know if it’s Venus de Milo

- Leo’s whole plan while Splinter just freaks out in the back

- out of context, this shot is great, but with added context, it’s even better. Like u know that awkward moment when your grandfather walks in on you trying to kill him?

- eventually Donnie just goes on his phone while their tickling Shredder, and Mikey just chills on Shredder’s shoulders. Like sure, why not

- “You have thrown me into the lion’s den!” “I think it’s more of a kraken’s den”

- It’s the first time we hear Splinter say Leonardo’s name fully, and he’s just telling him to shut tf up

- “My other sons would’ve taken this seriously!” *cuts to them tickling Shredder*

- FREAKIN MIKEY LIFTING THAT ENTIRE BOAT????? IT’S AWESOME

-asdfghjjhgfd foreshadowing as to what the drill is for??? yes please not to mention the shot is just simply amazing

- APRIL FREAKING O’NEIL WHO GOT A CRANE LICENSE  BC OF POSSIBLE FIGHTS WHERE IT MIGHT BE USEFUL???? WE STAN but also what was that conversation like with her parents

-Kraken Tom and the Evil Six. Why is that so funny.

- ngl, Leo’s plan reveal actually had me gasping the first time I watched it. Like idk, despite them showing several times in the first season that Leo is incredibly smart and good at planning, it never clicked in until this episode for me, and I think that was a pretty popular experience- the audience realized just how smart Leo actually was at the same time Splinter did, but it was still seriously foreshadowed and didn’t feel random- just A+ writing for ya there folks

- “I have calculated that this is the site of our final resting spot- I mean, go team!”

- Donnie with his own headstone will forever be iconic and relatable af, but also just another way to add in how much I love the team behind Rise, and how much effort they put into this show

- Leo guessing that April finally used her crane license was kinda sweet tho

- “Trust me.”  “I do.” 

- Donnie and Mikey are both so terrified while they fight, but they still do it, and idk, I think it’s really important that they showed main characters who are still strong and fight despite being scared.

- WHOLESOME- also Splinter hugging Leo tightly idk I just think it’s sweet

- Splinter just shoving his sleeping children into the sewers gives off tired dad vibes and we stan

- one last thing: I love how in Rise, you really get the sense that they don’t want to be fighting the Shredder, they don’t ever want to deal with this. You want them to beat the Shredder because you know they have ‘normal’ lives to get back to, that ultimately they’re kids who still want to get back home in the end, and while I doubt any of the other tmnt turtles wanted to fight their Shredder, it hits a little differently in Rise- maybe that’s because we see a lot more of their normal lives- but I thinks it’s really cool that the writers provided a scenario like that.

tl;dr- this is an epic episode, but the more serious nature of the plot doesn’t mean that it lacks the comedy- in fact, the tone matches with the rest of the show perfectly, and it’s seriously awesome that they managed to pull it off. It’s a great episode for the start of a new season, and has a bunch of foreshadowing as well.

[blackberrydothings]

Duke Thomas vs the non-verbal vocabulary

Duke Week (but like a week later) of @duketectivecomics day 6: All in the Batfamily.

Summary: When Duke joined the family he knew he would have to learn lots of things, including survival skills and where Alfred hides the cookies. He never thought that he would need to master the unspoken language that lies under every action of the bats.

Or

Duke finds himself trying to understand his new family’s ways of communication, until he starts doing the same.

Notes: sorry for being late!  wanted to make this fic without dialogue but gave up at the first try. If u see any mistake, u can go ahead and tell me, my English is far from perfect. Well, that’s all, thanks for reading! (I don’t own any of these characters, they belong to dc comics and that stuff)

….

The sun is setting when Duke arrives at the cave after a long but quiet day, his body aching for a nap or one of Alfred’s meals, whatever comes first. 

If it weren’t for the blue light coming from the computer and the sound of typing he would have thought that the place was empty. But Duke can distinguish Bruce profile from where he stands, taking off his helmet. The older man is sitting without his cowl, his posture the one of someone who is trying not to fall asleep. The bags under his eyes a confirmation that Duke does not need. 

“Long day in Wayne Enterprises?” He tries as an attempt at small conversation. As usual, it does not work. Bruce gives him a side glance and murmurs something to himself, not bothering to clarify what it was. Even so, he notices the man relaxing a little in his presence, which Duke counts as a win. 

He knows that he can’t fool anyone (much less the Batman) but he takes longer to put his things aside, pretending that he has to stay in the cave a little more time than necessary. When there is not any excuse left, he heads towards the exit. Bruce has not spoken or abandoned his position in front of the computer yet, an open case in front of his eyes. 

“Have you ever thought about going on patrols during the day? You know, for a better sleep schedule.” Duke asks, fully aware of the answer and when Bruce gives him a grunt, he has to suppress a laugh.

He is too far away to listen when in a low voice, the man answers: “It would ruin the aesthetic.”

….

Alfred, as the omnipotent force that Duke has started to think that he is, is there when someone from the family needs him. But even so, he is always surprised to find the man in the kitchen making him breakfast. 

Duke is usually already on his senses at six in the morning, and a few minutes later he is going downstairs, more often than not passing by one of the other bats, still dressed up and yawning. When he arrives at his destination, Alfred is there with a relaxed pose, like waiting for him. 

“Morning, Alf” Duke says while offering his help, just for the man to deny it. It takes a few seconds to be ready but then Duke is drinking his hot chocolate with a smile on his face. 

“Did you sleep well, Master Duke?” Alfred asks while sitting down at his side. It is a rare sight, given the fact that the man is always doing something, and Duke is secretly proud to be able to see him like that, when there are no immediate worries or tasks. 

“As good as one can ask for.” Duke shrugs and then adds “Eight full hours tho.”

“Four more than the average in this house.” The man says, and Duke is not sure if it is the morning or the words itselves, but he laughs. 

The silence that follows is comfortable, and neither of them has a wish to interrupt it. They keep each other company until Duke finishes his breakfast, and when he has to go, Alfred stands up offering a warm smile, before he also starts with his day. 

….

Duke hates nightmares. 

Yes, he fights criminals on a daily basis, he knows pretty well how to manage Two-Face or the Penguin, but nightmares are another type of monster all together. And he hates them. 

They often start as good dreams, the kind of dreams that makes you want to stay asleep, but also the kind of ones where you do not want to realise it is not real. And that does not help Duke when they transform into madness and chaos. When the images of a happy childhood become the picture of a broken family, and the laughs coming from his parents stop fitting them. 

But there is something that Duke hates more than nightmares: waking up from them. Waking up, alone in a bed that is not the one from his home, is just a reminder that there is nothing untrue about his dreams. That he has his parents, but that their minds had gone far away. 

He adjusts in his bed while trying to suppress a sob when he realises that he is not alone this time. Duke should be surprised that Dick is laying on top of his mattress like it is his own, but he is not. In fact, it is more of a common occurrence around the Manor to find more than one bat sleeping in a single space (yes, that includes Bruce); but them appearing in the middle of the night to Duke’s, well, that’s not as common. 

“Couldn’t sleep, yours was closer, I hope you don’t mind” Dick’s eyes remain closed but he speaks in a voice that is too clear to be sleepy. Duke knows he is lying, his rooms are not even on the same floor, but decides not to comment on it. 

“Sure” he answers, and something in the back of his mind relaxes. He might not know if Dick really wanted company or if he has some older-brother-sense that warns him when someone needs him, but he is not complaining. 

Duke’s nightmares won’t go, but he has a family. He is not alone.  

….

Wayne Manor has a library big enough to entertain yourself for months, and Duke has spent several hours on its quietness. But there are days, just like this one, when he prefers to go to the public one, where the things do not seem so immaculate and he is not afraid of stepping on something. 

As almost everything in Gotham, the public library is old, with high ceilings and large corridors that Duke is pretty sure could lead to the underground if he gets too distracted. Dirt gathers on top of the shelves with books never touched, and the light coming from the large windows gives an ethereal aura to the place. 

Duke has been looking for something to read for the last hour, four books placed on one of the tables near his bag, but none of them caught his attention for more than a few minutes. He is already sitting down with a fifth on his hand when he notices a movement at his right. A figure that Duke recognizes appears with their own books and takes a place next to him. 

Jason looks extremely calm when he nods towards Duke as a greeting, like he belongs in the library and its silence more than anywhere else. It is an interesting sight to contrast with his usual booming and alert self.

They stay like that a few more moments, until Duke groans tiredly when the fifth book ends up being as boring as the other four. He is ready to get up once more when he hears a soft laugh coming from Jason. As soon as Duke looks at him he realises that his brother is offering him a book from his pile, a face that might say “I dare you”. Duke is not someone who would back out from an unspoken dare, so he takes it. 

It is apparently an old collection of poems, the cover is worn out and some of the pages have notes in a neat handwriting that must be Jason’s. If it weren’t because he was the one who offered it, Duke would feel like he is intruding. He starts reading. 

Duke spends the rest of the afternoon in the library, with a silent companion. 

….

It is three in the afternoon and the cave is empty. 

Duke has been looking at the ceiling for the last half an hour while trying to tie up the loose ends of a case that had gone cold a week ago. He got it yesterday morning when the Police Department desisted from keeping an investigation, probably remembering that they could send it to one of the bats. 

He has the feeling that helping in cold cases happened more often in the daytime than in the night, where the Police Department (and Gordon) were already used to having the extra help, or were already resigned to it. There are a limited number of times of the Batman appearing in the middle of a crime scene before you get used to it, after all. 

At least three other files were gathered beside him in the pile of “solved”, and its results were already sent to the Police Department (and to the batcomputer record). It was the fourth case that was starting to give him a headache. A young man had been found dead in his home by heart attack, no history of any heart disease in his family. The only clue is a combination of substances that were not part of any known drug. 

Duke hears the steps of someone coming down to the cave, and by the way they move he can bet it is Tim. He looks towards the sound and confirms his suspicions, he catches the grunt that comes from his brother as a greeting before he sits down in front of the computer. He is ready to focus again on his task when Tim speaks, on a tired yet alert voice. 

“Why did you upload this to the computer?” Tim is pointing at the list of substances that Duke looked for just a few minutes ago. Without result.

“A cold case.” 

Tim mutters something under his breath and starts typing with quick movements. The silence seems to be filled with it for the next minutes, while Duke keeps an interested eye on his file. Confusion is shown on his face when, with his powers help, he identifies something flying towards him. He catches the pencil that Tim sends his way with his right hand, and watches it intensely.  

“You know, if you wanted my attention you could have just said something.” Duke comments when he does not find any other reason why Tim would throw him a pencil. His brother, once more, mutters something while asking for Duke to get closer with a movement of his hand. 

When he does it, Duke notices that three files are open on the computer: Duke’s current case, the components of a pill that he does not identify and a new tab in which Tim seems to be working on. He also notes that some of the substances of his case appear on the other two. 

“Okay, I am getting it, but how did you…?”

“Last night patrol, some new drug in town. Apparently it is getting popular between university students that want to keep awake for finals.” Tim answers with a shrug, and before he gets to drink more of the coffee he has on the table, Duke takes it. “Hey, I am helping you.”

“Well, I am returning the favor. Go to sleep, Tim.”

Tim complains about betrayal and annoying members of his family. Duke does not care, he has time to insist, his case is solved after all. 

….

Duke likes Steph. 

When he joined the family, she was the easiest to get along. The majority of them acted nice, but they were also pretty much disinterested, not even batting an eye towards him. It took Duke a long time to realise that sometimes the bats were just like that: silent. Steph, on the other hand, always had something to say, and for Duke that was the little bit of normalcy that he needed. 

He might never admit it, but he suspects that the other reason they got along from the beginning was because neither of them was sure of their places in the family. Yes, for sure they belonged to it, but for completely different reasons they were at the edge of it. 

So, already gotten used to her randomness, it was not even weird when she offered to go on a daytime patrol with him. Duke liked the company, so he accepted, and every once in a while since then he finds himself with the voice of a purple vigilante on his coms. 

“No, don’t take the avenue. It is going to be crowded.” Duke warns when Steph informs him of an armed robbery on Gotham City Bank. 

“Crowded? Of what?” her voice comes muffled by her mask and the white noise. 

“Of people? And their vehicles?” Duke says in his most obvious voice, and then he realises. Without even trying to suppress the smile, he clarifies “You know, people are outside now, going to work and stuff, it is the middle of the day.” Steph does not answer. 

When the day is getting over they sit on a rooftop enjoying the view of a safer Gotham, even when they both know that the night will be as dangerous as always. Steph has been complaining about how impossible it is to hide in the daytime, and Duke has been trying to explain to her how that is kind of the point. 

Duke likes Steph, and loves listening to her speak, but as any other bat, the things that she does not fully say are the one that he appreciates the most. 

….

The sun has setted a few minutes ago and not many people are still in the Manor. Duke has been moving from doing his homework and watching the movie that is being played on the TV. Now that he thinks about it, he should turn off the thing.

He gets startled when Cass appears from the darkness itself and sits down next to him. He has been getting used to her sudden entrances since they started working together more often with the Outsiders, but he was pretty sure that she was not even in the house. 

“How…? Weren’t you on patrol?”

“Changed day with Tim” she says, without further explanation, looking at the papers in his hand and then at the movie, she keeps silent while the screen shows the image of a vast space “What is that?”

“Hmn, that’s Star Trek. This is my math homework.” 

“Star Trek?” she asks while spelling the words with her hands, then just using sign language adds “A space travel documentary?”

“No, no. It’s a movie, a really impressive one. It’s about a futuristic society where…” Duke starts explaining but thinks better of it “But not as impressive now that we have a Superman. You never watched it?”

Cass denies it with her head, and Duke starts telling her the basics while she gets comfortable by his side. She seems confused by some of the things he enthusiastically describes, but she listens nonetheless. A few minutes later they are both watching the movie, homework forgotten. At some given moment Cass nudges him. 

“Other day, you dance. With me.”

Duke smiles, he would like that. 

….

Silence fills his room and Duke is ready to turn off the light and call it a day when he hears the knocks on his door. Damian does not even wait for his response and opens it. 

“Thomas” he says, and his voice sounds mildly annoyed “I am in need of your assistance.”

Duke gives him a questioning look. Damian is not dressed for patrol, and if Duke is not wrong, this has to be his free night. So saying he is surprised by the request is an understatement. But the kid does not explain, instead he turns around and goes back to the corridor. Duke gets up and follows him.

Damian is already going downstairs when Duke gets to him. It must be a weird sight, he thinks, a child all formally dressed at ten in the evening, while the teenager is in his pajamas trying to suppress a yawn. But Duke does not have time to share his thoughts when they arrive at their destination. 

Damian opens the door to one of the many rooms of the Manor, and waits for Duke to enter. If it weren’t because he is pretty sure that the kid at least estimates him, he would be worried. The only two things in the room are an easel and a stool. Damian gets closer to them, and Duke once more follows. 

Now that he sees the easel better, he can discern a pencil drawing on a white canvas. It looks extremely similar to the outside of the Manor. Damian seems relaxed by his side but he can tell that the kid is nervous. Of what, Duke is not sure. 

“Did you draw it? Because it looks amazing.” Damian unsurprisingly does not answer, but he looks to truly relax this time, and Duke is tempted to assure him once more, even when he knows that the kid would dismiss him. Dick older brother’s vibes must be getting to him. 

“It is not finished. I still have to paint it.” Damian clarifies, then, like it hurts him like hell, adds “Your help with the lighting would be… appreciated.” 

It is not a request, more of an obligation, but Duke still acts surprised for a few seconds. He looks again at the painting, he is not sure of being able to tell how the lights actually work, but Damian still looks interested in his opinion. So he explains, he shows all the points where it can come, and how that would affect the whole picture. Duke must admit that he feels pretty dumb doing it, he might have light related powers but he has no idea how to paint, but still, he finishes his overview. 

Damian seems to be in deep thinking for a few seconds, then he nods towards Duke and gives a glance to the door. Of course.

“Your presence is not required anymore” the younger one says. 

“Yeah, almost didn’t notice” Duke murmurs while heading to the door, but thinks that he was able to catch the shadow of a smile on the kid’s face. That will have to be enough. 

….

It was half past six in the morning and Duke was tired. No, he was exhausted. 

Yesterday was a long day, without even counting the meta that has been trying to destroy the Gotham City Museum. Duke has been falling behind with his schoolwork, and the attack has not helped him. Besides, he did not remember about the delivery of an essay for his literature class until midnight, when he started to write it. Not being able to fall asleep before five in the morning was what Duke would put in the cons of being a vigilante. Having to wake up early on the morning was a con of being a daytime vigilante. Both of those things happening on the same day was what he would call a fucking bad day. 

Duke is yawning while he goes downstairs, already suited up and hoping that all of Gotham’s rogues had a night as long as his and won’t be going around the city. For the first time in weeks he is considering drinking coffee instead of his usual chocolate, maybe Alfred actually knows a way of making it tastier. 

He is arriving at the kitchen when he feels it, not because of some bat-sense, but because he hears the loud voices. He opens the door and knows it: Duke lied, the bats are not silent. They can be difficult to read, they might not be good at explaining their feelings, but silent can’t be a word to describe them when they are together. They are loud and dramatic. Duke loves it, but not when he had a long night. Just like today. 

They are all here, still suited up and with sleep deprived faces. Jason’s helmet is on the floor near the door, and the man himself has one arm up in the air grasping a mobile phone, the other holding Dick back, who seems to be trying to get his device again. Both of them are mocking the other with high pitched voices that do not really fit them. Duke is pretty sure that they would have tackled one another if it weren’t for Bruce, standing in the middle of the pair, each hand on their shoulders, but not really doing something to help any side. He has a small but genuine smile on his face. 

Cass is suppressing a yawn while she eats pancakes, she is listening attentively to Steph, who is doing wide gestures to tell a story about an old lady that tried to convince her to date  her nephew. Steph has bags under her eyes and a band-aid on her jaw that seems to be from last night, but still explains the story as it is the most interesting thing of the week. Duke makes a reminder of asking later. 

Damian is sitting in front of Cass with a similar expression. He has Alfred (the cat) on his lap, and Duke can see that he is still wearing his suit pants under a two sizes bigger hoodie that probably belongs to Jason. His cape and domino mask are on a pile at his feet painted with a weird substance that Duke prefers not to know. He looks half annoyed and half amused. 

Duke notices that for the first time Tim looks to be drinking an orange juice instead of a coffee, being the only one not suited nor ready to fall asleep. Tim, of all people. Behind him Alfred is making something (Duke bets that more pancakes), and seems to be the only one to spot him on the door. They exchange a smile (well, the old man gives a smile, Duke a panicked expression), before he resolves that he can get breakfast in some place in the city. Having had a long day and night means that he does not have to put up with all his family this early in the morning, he decides. Duke is going backwards when he hears Damian’s voice.

“Thomas is here” he announces. Damn kid. 

They all stop mid-action and look at him. Bruce clears his throat and gives a step back, probably wanting to come back to his professional persona and failing when he almost trips with his cape. That gets a snicker from all of them, except for Jason who laughs freely. Bruce, with his most poker face, pretends nothing happened. Duke is tempted to remind him that he already knows his not Batman self.  

“You must start your patrol on Gotham Harbor” he reports “We got information that a new drug shipment will arrive in less than an hour, Black Mask henchmen will be there. They will not expect someone in broad daylight.” 

“We found some clues leading to a recently abandoned Scarecrow’s hideout, he might attack before sunset.” Steph adds, pointing at her and Dick with her finger. 

“Poison Ivy is trying some new substance” Damian warns while giving a side glance to his cape. “Might want to prove it.”

Duke looks at them with his most deadpan expression, his body is aching for a rest that he will not get. Well, there it goes his quiet day without rogues. He groans in frustration. 

Everyone understands. 

[in-a-cave-with]

So starved for Tony content I read that black widow books everyone keeps talking about, the five lines with Tony there are pretty good and very well characterized tho. Please, fo you have any fic recs with good Tony char

HAHAHAAHSJDFNVKJLSDJFD thats a mood....

i have a big comics tony fic rec list here, also some more comics fics ive found since making that post that i rlly like (also be sure to check out some of the other works by the authors here, i added the links to their profiles):

Hope of Morning by magicasen

Incursions. The Illuminati. Rogue planets and mindwipes, Dyson Spheres and Worldkillers. Ask Tony Stark to list all the wrongs he's ever committed, and he wouldn't even know where to begin.

But when the Watcher dies and the secrets of the entire universe come to light, Tony discovers his greatest sin is one he chose to forget.  

(AU from Original Sin #2)

You Can Stay by FestiveFerret

Tony dumped the box on his coffee table, the lid now safely closed. "Thanks for the save," he muttered at it. The world had the softened edges that alcohol gave it, but it wasn't gentle this time, like it usually was, it was numb.

He couldn't even summon the pain to feel hurt about Justine. It wasn't like it was a surprise. No one ever wanted to be with him for himself. No one just stayed. That, apparently, was asking too much of the universe.

not gruesome, just human by isozyme

“I need to crash on someone’s couch for a while.  Your couch.  I need to crash on your couch,” Tony says.

Steve’s mouth opens.  If he asks why Tony’s going to bolt, he can feel the certainty of it under his sternum.  He doesn’t have a sternum anymore, just a tangle of metal under his skin.  Too many things have punched through it to get to his heart.  There hasn’t been enough bone left to reconstruct anything made of flesh in a long time.

“There’s borscht on the stove,” Steve says.

blood, love, and rhetoric by isozyme

Something’s wrong with causality. Beyond the academic.

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, Steve/Tony style.

in another life (you and i) by isozyme

It’s a man, half-clad in silver armor. His face is covered by an angular mask, eyes glowing blue slits. The suit is a sick frankenstein of Captain America and Iron Man. Tony raises his palms, readying a repulsor blast.

The man opposite him raises a red-gloved hand which, like a terrible mirror, bears an identical repulsor.

The Civil Warrior makes it to Earth-616 six months too late.

on the health benefits of dying young and beautiful by Welcoming_Disaster

PI Steve Rogers is hired to investigate the mysterious disappearance of fashion designer Antonio Stark.

Every Me Loves Every You by foldingcranes

Steve tries to picture it: himself, laying on the Capitol’s steps, bleeding over cold concrete, previously bound and on his way to his own trial. Himself, over this gaunt and somber Stark, who’s been sober for six years, ramming his shield on him until his armor breaks.

(Two lonely strangers from different dimensions meet.)

Without the rusty music of my machine by Missy_dee811

"The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion." — Albert Camus

[Written for Lights On Park Ave - Round 11.]

Our Love Is a Ghost That the Others Can't See by Kiyaar

Post-Civil War, canon-divergent from Director of SHIELD.

In Tony’s dreams, he is back in the street, in a crater, the city on fire around him. Steve kneels over him and beats him to within an inch of his life.

It’s his favorite place to be, these days.

Satin in a Coffin by Crait

Careful. It's so heavy only I can lift it.

Time, it needs time, to win back your love again by lomku

“So what are we going to do about it?” “Now? Now I’m going to beat you bloody.”

Steve remembers, and he goes to Tony to confront him, but in the ensuing fight, a time loop is created, trapping Steve and Tony together. Will they be able to set their differences aside long enough to work on breaking the time loop?

When You're a Stranger by Sineala

Tony has made a mistake.

So Far Away From Me by Sineala

Captain America has a new hotline, and Tony is a frequent caller -- but for a very unusual reason.

Double Time by Sineala

Cassino, Italy, December 1943. Special Agent Tony Stark, former Marvels adventurer, is sent to investigate a Cosmic Cube found by the Invaders -- and it's the perfect opportunity for him to rekindle his secret romance with Steve Rogers. But when Hydra attempts to steal the Cube, an inadvertent wish for help leads to the appearance of a Tony from the future of another world: Director Stark of SHIELD. This Tony is a man with a lot on his mind. He refuses to tell them anything about the future, but he seems to know much more than he should about Captain America. And something's happened that's clearly killing him inside, but he's not talking. When Director Stark's failed attempt to return home leads to the unexpected appearance of another visitor from his universe, all the lies come undone. Now there are two wars to fight, and the second one could ruin all of them.

let none be content with me by Mizzy

After Detective Michael O'Brien learns Iron Man's real identity, Tony invites him to stay in the Avengers' mansion while he fixes the flaw in the Guardsman armor that led to Michael's brother's death, an incident that Tony still hasn't properly dealt with.

The Avengers take to Michael, and they might like him more than Iron Man, which Tony... isn't too surprised about. People should like Michael more than they like him. And when new threats and villains just start piling up, Tony has to seriously consider Iron Man's future. Or lack thereof.

through a passive landscape by Mizzy

The New York Times once described parking structures as "the grim afterthought of American design" and Steve couldn’t say he disagreed. The building they were searching was pretty damn ugly. But something uglier was about to happen inside.

[averyonelovesjack]

cost of friendship III ~ daniel seavey

requested: yes

hiii can we please please please have another part to parties and the cost of friendship? love love love your writing!

hey hon just requesting a third part to 'cost of friendship' with dani whenever you have the time, thanks love

Hey! I hope things are going okay! I was reading your imagines and I'm a big fan of your works! I was just wondering if you were going to post a part 3 to "cost of friendship"? Just curious :) I understand if you discontinued it/you're on a break.

summary: six months into the relationship and just in time for the holidays, daniel and y/n recognize the difficulty in spending the holidays away from each other and have to determine if it’s worth breaking the secret.

warning(s): cursing

disclaimer: i use christmas and thanksgiving as plot points in this story because it fit better with the way i wanted the story to go, but feel free to replace them with any other holidays you celebrate!!

word count: 2740

author’s note: accidentally posted this, unedited, last night with no word count and the author’s note that i wrote in december of last year when i originally made the draft and didn’t write a single word of this story:) so now that it actually makes sense to post this, here is part three to cost of friendship! thanks for all these requests even tho they were clearly from a long time ago since cost of friendship II came out TWO YEARS AGO in september. welp hope this was worth the wait lol enjoy:))

read these first: part one, part two

six months with daniel went by really quickly. the summer was honestly a lot of fun. i could spent hours at the boys’ house and nothing was suspicious about it. i grew a lot closer with them all because we spent so much time together, and it wasn’t weird for me to hang out there, and i could see daniel whenever i wanted. we really got to know each other during the summer months. i had known daniel for a while now, but getting to know him on a relationship level was really nice.

summer ended pretty quickly though and then fall came. i was back in school. i didn’t think it would be hard to see him since i was still in the ending months of school when we started dating. i think that going from so much time together over the summer to only seeing each other a few hours a week was a really hard adjustment.

we promised we’d never let our schedules be a problem, but managing a full time student’s schedule and a singer’s schedule is really difficult. i had classes monday through friday, and any time i wasn’t in class, i was doing homework. that left my only free time during the week to be late at night. so we hung out late at night, but by the time we saw each other we were usually too exhausted to really do anything other than lay around and watch a show or talk for a little bit. weekends were usually better for me, but daniel had a crazy schedule that usually had studio time incorporated on the weekend.

we still made effort to see each other all the time we could, but it wasn’t easy. i think that probably plays into my current nerves. it’s early november and the stress of the holiday season had already gotten to me.

as a kid, the holiday season was the absolute best. thanksgiving meant seeing all of my family, including my cousins who were really close in age to me. and then the stretch between thanksgiving and christmas was my absolute favorite. it was filled with christmas music, christmas decorations, buying gifts, giving gifts, getting gifts, and again, seeing family. and don’t even get me started on new years. as a kid, staying up late was the absolute best thing. the sparking cider and noise makers were all the rave.

as a much older college student now though, it was a lot less fun. the holiday season meant figuring out plans and traveling home to see my family and not knowing which part of my family was actually gonna be available. it meant buying actual meaningful or useful gifts and then figuring out how to get them home. there was still the music and the lights, but i had no time to meaninglessly drive around los angeles and see the lights or spend hours around a fireplace watching christmas movies. i didn’t even have a fireplace to begin with.

the holiday season was also much more confusing this year because i had daniel. i’ve never even had a boyfriend during the holiday season, let alone a secret boyfriend. most of the things we went out and did we could pass off as just things we’re doing as close friends, but the holidays were different. friends don’t ditch the holidays with their family just to hang out with their friends family. i don’t even know if daniel and i are at the level in our relationship, and then even if we were, i couldn’t do anything about it because keeping our relationship a secret meant not being able to do the explicitly for couples holiday stuff.

as much as i think daniel and i are ready for the family stage in our relationship, neither of us have really talked about it because there’s not really much room to do it anyways. i’ve met daniel’s siblings and parents before, but never as anything more than a friend because it was too risky to tell anyone. and daniel’s never had an excuse to come meet my family since they aren’t just down the road like his.

the secret relationship really damaged my normal holiday mood and it honestly stressed me out. i have to book my plane home soon and to do that meant that there really was no chance that i’d spend the holidays with daniel. even with us only being together half a year, daniel meant so much to me. in every other relationship i’d been in, it felt like i was waiting for the relationship to end or i at least knew that it wasn’t going to last. it was different with daniel though and that was really hard since we couldn’t even tell anyone about it.

tonight is a friday and i had finally finished my work for the week. i was invited to a party, but i didn’t really feel like going since i was pretty tired from the week and i wasn’t in a party mood. daniel texted me soon after and asked if i wanted to come over. i wasn’t really in a socialization mood, but since it was just daniel and i haven’t seen him much recently, i said yes. he even said he would pick me up which made it ten times easier to say yes because he knows i don’t like taking ubers alone and i don’t have access to a car.

daniel picked me up at about 7. i didn’t feel like getting ready so i just wore my grey sweatpants and wdw tee that daniel had gotten me for free. daniel never seemed to mind my lazy outfits and i knew as soon as we got back he would change out of his jeans too.

“hi love, how was your day?” daniel asks as soon as i get in the car. i felt a little emotionally exhausted, but so happy to see daniel. the car was like our safe space because no one was around to walk in on us and we didn’t have to hide our feelings and actions.

“exhausting, but better now that i’m seeing you.” i admit.

“at least it’s the weekend now.” daniel says. “and i went to the studio a little early today so that we won’t have to go in this weekend and i can spend more time with you.”

“really?” i ask, that news brightening my day a little. “i was just about to ask how studio was today?”

“it was good. we worked on a new christmas song today when we were finished. i don’t know if we’ll ever release it but it was a lot of fun. i’m sure you’d love it.”

“you know how i feel about christmas music.” i grin. maybe a little daniel written christmas music will brighten my spirit in these next coming weeks.

“speaking of, i feel like you haven’t played any christmas music. i swear i barely knew you this time last year as compared to now but i knew how much you loved christmas music. i feel like you played it as soon as halloween was over.” daniel mentions and as much as i wanted to hold it back and not say anything, i felt too tired to not.

“i haven’t really been in the christmas spirit.” i admit with a sigh that i knew daniel would read through.

“i know the holiday season is hard. it’s been on my mind a lot too and i was hoping it wasn’t adding to your stress, but i should’ve said something sooner because i knew it would.” daniel says, looking over and gently ok in a hand on mine.

“it’s okay.” i say. “i probably wouldn’t have even admitted it until we got to a night like tonight where i’m honestly too tired to pretend i’m not stressed.”

“i’m sorry, love. do you want to talk about it?” daniel asks.

“it’s okay, i don’t even know what to say because we can’t even do anything about it.” i answer. “and i don’t want to stress you out with all of my little annoyances and sad things.”

“i know that the last few months haven’t been easy.” daniel starts, deciding for us both that nothing i could say would be too much for us. “with our schedules and then keeping it a secret.”

“it’s just-” i don’t even know where to start because i know when i’ll do i’ll either inevitably cry out of stress or sound angry with him when i’m not, i’m just annoyed at our situation. “it really sucks that i can’t spend any of the holidays with you and i fucking hate that because i love the holiday season and the spirit and i’m avoiding it because i don’t want to feel sad about us not being together for the holidays. and i love you. i love you so much and i want you to meet my family because i know they’ll love you, but it would be way too obvious for you to fly home with me for the holidays and there’s really no hiding that so i know it makes no sense to even think about that because it just makes me sad.”

“i love you too, y/n.” daniel says, still processing everything. “i didn’t know you wanted me to meet your family yet. i would love to, but i didn’t want to bring it up until you were ready.”

“are you kidding?” i laugh a little bit, looking over at him as he parked the car in the driveway but neither of us moved. “daniel, of course i want you to meet my family. i know they’ll love you because you’re you. god, ever since i told my sisters i have a boyfriend they’ve been begging me to tell them who so that they could meet you. i don’t know, the holidays have always just been about being with family for my family, and i’m sure yours too. you’re such an important part of my life now and i wish i could share you with them. it’s whatever, though. we shouldn’t talk about it because i know that it’s not possible.”

“what about thanksgiving with my family and christmas with yours?” daniel says and my heart skips a beat. “and then we can figure out new years later. i know you have to go home for christmas because you’ll get kicked out of dorms, and as much as i would love for you to just stay with us, i’m sure you want to go home and see your family.”

“daniel, as lovely as that sounds, you know how suspicious it would be for me to stay here for thanksgiving and for you to fly home with me? i don’t think even we would be able to keep that a secret.”

“fuck the secret, then, y/n.” he blurts out. “y/n, i don’t see us ending ever, and definitely not anytime soon and it’s not like we’re gonna keep this a secret forever. fuck the secret. corbyn was right, okay, the boys are gonna be happy for us. it’s not like they haven’t picked up on us being close these last few months and keeping this secret isn’t worth us being apart for the next few months, okay? it’s hard enough to spend only a few hours together a week, i don’t want to be away from you for all of thanksgiving and christmas too.”

“fuck the secret.” i say, with a smile forming on my face. “are we really doing this?”

“i see no better time than now, y/n.” daniel leans over the console to kiss my lips softly. “wanna go tell the boys now?”

“let’s do it.” i unbuckle my seatbelt with a weight lifted off of my shoulders. daniel and i meet in front of the car, our hands interlocking as we walked into the house as a non-secret couple for the first time.

the boys were all sitting in the living room and a movie was playing with all of the lights out. they all look over as daniel closes the door and the two of us walk over to them.

“y/n? what are you doing here? daniel didn’t tell us he was bringing you over.” zach says. “of course he just wants to hog you again.”

“do you guys wanna pause the movie for a second? we have some important news.” daniel says and we separate hands as to not give it away just yet.

“fucking finally.” jonah says.

“what?” i ask, wondering what he meant.

“i mean, i don’t want to be the one to say it and ruin it for you two, but i mean, come on, we’ve been waiting months for you to admit to it. so get on with it.” jonah gestures for us to continue. guess we weren’t as great secret keepers as we thought.

“y/n and i have been dating for about six months and kept it a secret from everyone.” daniel says and then takes my hand in his and pulls me closer so that i’m in his arms.

“SIX.” zach yells. “i knew there were vibes between you two but you guys are good. six months??”

“not that good.” corbyn mumbles, which causes the other three to look at him.

“you bitch!” jack then exclaims. “you knew? and you didn’t give me my damn money??”

“it’s their fault, they told me not to say anything!” corbyn defends, pointing a finger at the two of us. “i was not supposed to find out. i wish i didn’t, this was a lot of stress i didn’t need.”

“i would like my twenty bucks now, thank you very much.” jack says and corbyn quickly throws a twenty dollar bill at him.

“this is so unfair.” the ninteen year old looks at the rest of us. “jack gets twenty bucks, corbyn gets stress relief, daniel gets a girlfriend and it’s y/n. what do i get? i want something!”

“zach, i didn’t get anything from this either.” jonah reminds.

“shut up. you have a girlfriend.” zach screeches in his jokingly angry voice. “god, i’m so lonely.”

“i have a couple sisters, if you want.” i laugh a little. “you’d have to come home for christmas with danny and i, though.”

“and you’re leaving us for christmas? gosh damnit y/n, why can’t you guys stay with me for christmas?” zach exclaims, which makes us all laugh a little bit. i wasn’t sure how everyone was going to react, but this was a pretty funny one from zach.

“i hate to break it to you bud, but we’re, uh, all going home for christmas. we do every year.” jack sets a hand on his bandmates shoulder. “i’m pretty sure y/n would rather spend christmas with her boyfriend and her family than you, no offense.”

“what the fuck, y/n. you don’t wanna spend christmas with me?”

i’m laughing too much at this interaction to answer before jack.

“to be clear though, zach, i would choose to spend christmas with you.”

“well we have y/n for thanksgiving. we’re gonna see my family, so we’ll still be in la and can hang out. have our own little friendsgiving.” daniel suggests.

“no no no, i’m too lonely for friendsgiving.” zach expresses, deciding to be unhappy with everything we say just for the comedy of it. “i’m too single. you’re all in relationships, i can’t be the only lonely one.”

“um, bro, i too am single.” jack looks at him funny.

“okay, well yeah, but you have a child.”

“yes, a child who lives in hawaii. i’ll be your friendsgiving date.” jack offers.

“really? you meant it?” zach faked being emotional and jonah looks at them, then back at us with a funny look.

“well, now that we’ve dealt with... that, i just want to say we’re all really happy for you two.” jonah starts. “not that this is surprising to any of us, because there has been way too much sexual tension since we’ve all been friends for this to not have happened, but i’m very happy you decided to tell us.”

“are you guys gonna go public? like tell management?” corbyn asks.

daniel then looks at me a little nervously and then back at the guys, “yeah that’s the next thing we have to figure out.”

lovely.

[coralsgrimes]

It's a shame, but his entire EP release was compromised by his choice to name the first song 11:11, while JH made a point of identifying herself as the person the song was written for. And, the worst thing was that photo showing that it was something related to JH and her ex-husband which leaves a clue that Ben really got involved in the mess that was the separation of JH and B.

And, if Ben imagine that only a few fans have learned of the thing, he is mistaken, for sure some journalists who talk about celebrities know too. Regrettably, Ben has had terrible career management, he is so talented, if he had had better agents during his career he would be on the same level as the 40-year-old actors who are currently successful.

Only a miracle can give him a fighting chance to be the next James Bond. JH 11:11 doesn't help on it, definitely.

Beside terrible tase in women he also has bad taste when chosing his projects. OR let me all show ye the comment he made back in the day.

He wasn't joking here tho...

And he is signed with WME in US and some other agency in UK, pretty sure. And WME is one of the Hollywood's top tier. So he... Like I don't wanna say bullshit cuz I don't know what the truth is, but he either makes very bad choices or he really is bland and no one wants him. And if I remember right, he said that he does not wanna take gigs far from home/family anymore BUT later he went for Shadow and Bone me Daddy. There was this talk on the street, that he was trying to get himself casted in some big time rom-com. Later he said that he could not do some film (the rumored rom-com) cause of scheduling issues. The meaner people speculated that he did not get the part and blamed scheduling to feel better.

The Bond Thing... So I talked with someone bout this before. He was kinda sharing his interest in being Bond too, but.... realistically? He has like close to no chances xdd It's a big af money maker now and they will look for someone who can carry it, it is someone with pre established box office presence. The guy from the awful show Bridgerton?? whats his face?? don't care lol. Even he has more chances than our Benny Boy, far more fan and media attention and he booked like 3 or 4 high profile gigs since January? Welp, for the past two years Ben only had SAB and now the Del Toro project. And the EP comin out in two weeks...

The meltdown is coming October 15th too and whenever the mv with Lima will drop. Like he digs his own grave while we lookin xd

And... No one cares about him that much? Page Six maybe for the Backgrid photos (I'm sure tho that e!news posted the ice cream outing first) and all the 'Jules uses Bens shoulder to cry on' articles that followed. People Mag last month was def paid for and they never even posted the vid/article to their ig feed (I don't wanna check RN but I'm pretty certain they did not). He has fans to worry about only. Maybe they hoped for some publicity for SAB with the pap walk in January but the shit backfired so fucking much. The Montana thing was circling around too. He got a lot of backlash for those and I bet ye, if the shit happened after SAB premiered he would be fucked.

And you know. He choses the worst possible people as his... women or something? C-list celebrity who is generally either hated or forgotten (I think she lost a lotsa ig followers around the Montana time too). Then we have Floriana xdd but props to Benny for getting Evan somehow tangled in the mess...

[floatingpetals]

What Have I Done? || Epilogue

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of past traumas, fluff(Is that really a warning tho?)

Word Count: 3900+

Summary: A bad break up between Bucky and his ex leads to a new friendship with the quiet tech he never had the chance to get to know. Relationships grow, feelings are caught, and boundaries are explored. Bucky thought he found his happy ending, but old memories haunt his future. He knows what he’s doing wrong, dangerous even, but he can’t help it. Can he fix the wrongs he’s done? -a requested story for @iheartsebastianstan​

**THIS IS AN 18+ STORY, SO PLEASE NO MINORS!

A/N: And I oop-. This has been a long time coming, huh? Thank you for everyone being so incredibly patient with me. I hated how long I’ve been fighting this, don’t know why it was so hard to finish either. I hope you all enjoy the last bit of their story! Let me know what you think and enjoy!!

Gif is not mine, credit to the creator. text dividers credit: @writeyourmindaway​​

Chapter 12 | Epilogue | Series Masterlist

Six months later:

“Come on Wolf!”

Bucky chuckled at the shout from outside the little oasis he’d been living in the past six months and zipped up his bag with the last of his things. Even though he was excited, there was the bubbling apprehension that was festering in the pit of his stomach. Today was the day. The day he was given clearance from his therapists to go back to the compound and restart his life.

“The jets not going to wait forever for you!”

Bucky fondly rolled his eyes and threw the bag over his shoulder before he shot one last look over the room. Sighing softly, he headed towards the door.

“I’m coming. Chill.” He shouted back.

Shuri leaned against a fence post outside, flipping through her holographic messages. When Bucky opened the door, she glanced up and swiped the message clear. She beamed and pushed off the post.

“Finally. I thought I was going to have drag you out by your ear.” She smirked.

“Hey, the only person who can do that is my mother or sister, and I’m pretty sure you’re neither.” Bucky shook his head and brushed passed her. Shuri giggled and skipped alongside him, her arms clasped behind her back with her trademark smirk.

“I would say I’m a little offended you don’t see me as your little sister after all we’ve been through. You keep coming back no matter how many times I scare you off.” Shuri teased, nudging Bucky’s side with her elbow.

Bucky laughed and shook his head. Over the past six months, Bucky had grown closer to Shuri than he had been before. He’d spend hours at her lab, letting her tinker on his arm between his trips to therapy sessions and helping the farmers in the fields. Her cheer and sarcastic attitude was something he didn’t know he needed. She helped make things easier dealing with the separation from the people he loved back home and dealing with the trauma he’d gone through. It was like she was his own personal cheerleader who was willing to smack him in the back of the head when he’d go too deep in his dark thoughts. She didn’t let him get away with much. Anything, really.

Therapy itself was exhausting but also life-altering. There wasn’t one second where he doubted his decision to come here. He needed this. If he hadn’t gotten help when he did, Bucky feared to know where he would have been. There was no doubt in his mind things would have gotten worse and everything he loved, even the woman he cherished, would have abandoned him without a backward glance.

Now though, he knew what went wrong. He knew he wasn’t anything Vivian said to him. He was important, he did mean something to several people. And he still tangled occasionally with this, he acknowledged he isn’t a monster. He never was and now he could finally breathe easier. The little voices in the back of his head weren’t gone, of course, the therapist told him they’d never truly be gone, but now he knew how to separate them from the truth. 

Their only goal was to bring him down, to tear him and all his hard work to pieces. And now he had the tools to fight back. He’d still have therapy once a week, Bucky wasn’t completely ready to give that up yet, but they could easily be done over the phone or by video call now. He no longer needed to be here.

“Are you excited about going back?” Shuri asked, pulling Bucky back to the present. He hummed and nodded, despite the butterflies in his stomach. Shuri narrowed her eyes at him, catching the hesitancy in his lackluster reply. “That’s not a very convincing answer, Sargent.”

Bucky exhaled loudly and ran his metal hand through his hair. He knew what she really meant; he just didn’t want to answer it. Truthfully, he was terrified. A long time had passed since he left. Things have changed, and he hadn’t left on a positive note. There was a high chance Y/N took his words to heart and moved on. Bucky wouldn’t blame her. He treated her like she was nothing more than a possession. Y/N deserved better than that. Nevertheless, it didn’t stop him from hoping she might give him another chance.

“Bucky.” Shuri stopped in front of him, her face serious. Bucky blinked. “You don’t have to go so soon if you need more time. You were just cleared today. We would understand if you needed to stay and you’re always welcomed here.”

Warmth bubbled in Bucky’s chest, a tiny smile spreading on his lips. It felt nice to be welcomed somewhere. Everyone here greeted him with open arms. This was his second home and as much as he would love to stay, he needed to go home to his first. He couldn’t hide forever.

Inhaling deeply, Bucky let out a steady breath and smiled widely. For the first time in forever, Bucky felt light and free. Yes, he was ready and optimistic about whatever the future held.

“Yeah.” Bucky beamed, his happiness shining in his eyes. “I’m ready to go home.”

“Requesting clearance for landing.”

Bucky buckled in his seat, inhaling nervously through his nose as Okoye made her decent. There was a frustrated grumble on the intercom that brought an amused smirk to his face.

“Oh for the- Just land the damn jet.” Tony huffed through the speaker. Bucky shot a curious glance over to where Okoye sat at the helm. She had an amused smirk on her face and winked at Bucky when she caught him staring. Bucky laughed, realizing it wasn’t because she was going by the book, not in the slightest. Apparently, not even she was above riling up Tony.

As the jet began its descent, Bucky felt the nerves in the pit of his stomach increase with each passing second. There was no turning back now, he couldn’t run away if he wanted to. Besides, Okoye wouldn’t hesitate to drag him by the back of his neck if he tried to bolt. Not that he would.

After a smooth landing, Bucky shakily stood to go to his bag. He’s been on missions where he might never return home from, faced villains that would turn anyone’s blood cold, but this- seeing everyone after how he left things. This was terrifying. He tried to tamp down his nerves and push aside the bubble of uncertainty that rose in his throat.  

“I hope you don’t mind. Peter and his friends have invited me out to go see a movie.” He heard Shuri say to her brother. T’challa hummed and walked to the ramp as it lowered.

“I expected you to leave. Take Okoye.” He replied. Bucky slung his bag over his shoulder, grinning wide at the whine from Shuri and the frustrated scoff that came Okoye.

“I’m sorry. Would I be a buzzkill, your majesty?” Okoye asked tartly. Bucky walked up behind them to follow down the ramp, his grip tight on the handles to his bag. Shuri rolled her eyes and sent the older woman an annoyed glare.

“I’m not a child.” Shuri argued. “I don’t need a baby sister.”

“And yet, you were the one that filled the throne room with the chickens that took half the staff and me the entire day collecting.” T’challa replied simply, completely unfazed. Bucky snickered. He might have helped with a few chickens. “Consider this payback for the chicken shit we were covered in.”

Bucky turned to the laugh at the bottom of the ramp, spotting three faces he worried seeing and quickly looked at his feet. Tony stood at the bottom of the ramp, hearing the argument and smirked at the two siblings. Beside him stood Steve and Natasha, both looking excited and happy to see everyone. Bucky couldn’t meet any of their eyes, still too nervous that they harbored some resentment from him. 

He hadn’t spoken to any of them since he left, both he and the others agreeing that contact would be nonexistent until he was given the okay. T’challa would occasionally let them know how Bucky was doing, but it wasn’t often. He was supposed to tell them he was coming home, but he couldn’t even find the courage to pick up the phone. Instead, he sent a short email of the news and left it at that. An email, he scoffed to himself. I couldn’t even send them a text.

T’challa stepped away from his sister and greeted Tony with a wide smile and clasped the man’s offered hand in a shake. Bucky heard them say their hellos, a few snips between siblings thrown in here and there. Hesitantly, he raised his eyes to look them over and noticed there wasn’t the one person he hoped would be there. His heart dropped. Y/N was nowhere to be found. T’challa walked off with Tony and Natasha, his sister and Okoye following close behind, leaving Bucky alone with Steve.

Steve waited for Bucky, his hands tucked in his pocket and a gentle smile on his face. Bucky stopped at the bottom of the ramp, his feet refusing to take the last step off.

“How ya doin’ pal?” Steve asked, his voice void of malice and resentment. In fact, he sounded happy to see him. It surprised Bucky. Of all people he expected to hold the grudge, he expected Steve to keep a firm grip on that. Blinking, Bucky swallowed and nodded.

“I’m doing better.” He mumbled. “A lot, actually.”

Steve didn’t say anything. His eyes traced over Bucky, searching for something in his friend. He must have liked what he saw, his smile stretched across his face. Wordlessly, Steve opened his arms and closed the distance, pulling Bucky into a tight hug. All the fear and anxiety left Bucky in an instant, his shoulder sagging in relief. He returned the hug full-heartedly, squeezing Steve in a way to convey his relief.

“We missed you, Buck.” Steve said genuinely as he pulled away. Bucky’s breath hitched and he stared in disbelief at Steve with wide eyes. Steve chuckled and jerked his chin to the hangers' door. “Come on.”

Steve led Bucky through the familiar halls, asking any and all questions pertaining to his time away. Bucky found it easy to slip back into joking with his friend, and the realization that in the last few months before going to Wakanda, Bucky had shut himself away from Steve. From everyone for that matter. He missed his friend.

Bucky knew what Steve meant when he missed him. It was a big topic the therapists worked on in their sessions Steve didn’t mean he just missed him while he was gone, he meant he missed him period. Bucky might have found a lot in Y/N, but he quickly understood he lost a lot of himself along the way by listening to the voices that told him otherwise. Now, he was going to do everything he could to keep from falling on old habits. He had to. There was no way he could put anyone else through this again.

Steve stopped outside the living room, standing off to the side a wide crooked smile.

“We figured you’d want some time to yourselves. Everyone’s going to the lake house Tony bought a few weeks ago for the afternoon. We’ll be back around seven for dinner.” Steve clapped a hand on his shoulder and took the bag Bucky still held. “I’ll go put this in your room. And good luck.”

Bucky frowned at how obscure his friend was being. He watched Steve disappear around the corner before shaking his head. Stepping into the living room, Bucky froze when he saw who was sitting on the couch.

Y/N looked up when she heard him walk in, her heart in her throat. She sucked in air sharply at the sight of Bucky standing in front of her. Her eyes raked over his form, taking in his appearance. He looked good. His skin was bronzed from no doubt being out in the African sun, his hair was pulled back into his signature bun. But his eyes, his eyes were what made her heart soar. No longer did he have the dark bags under his eyes, or the glossed over appearance in his blues. They were crystal clear and staring right back at her with an expression of longing. Y/N’s face burned, and she willed herself to shake off the astonishment and smile.

“Hi.” She said.

“Hi.”

The two didn’t know what else to say, didn’t know where to start. There was a lot that needed to be said, a lot of pain that was between them. Bucky counted to three before inhaling deeply. He waved to the empty spot beside her on the couch.

“Is it oaky for me to sit?” He asked. Y/N nodded and moved over to make more room, tucking her leg to her side and angled to face him. Bucky settled onto the familiar couch, his own matching smile on his face. Y/N knew she missed him when he was gone, but she never realized just how much until he was right there, within reaching distance. She could count his eyelashes, could see the health pink in his cheeks. She missed him so much.

Bucky rubbed a sweaty palm on his jeans and exhaled loudly.

“I uh… I missed you.” He winced at the lame start of a conversation. Thankfully, Y/N didn’t mind. She tilted her head to the side and giggled softly.

“I missed you too.”

Bucky forgot how much he loved her voice. His heart did a funny flip in his chest and it took him all his willpower not to melt into the couch.

“I guess it’s time to address the elephant in the room.” Bucky began. Y/N sat a little straighter, her face dropping to a serious expression. There was no beating around the bush for this one. “There’s nothing I can say to ever express how sorry I am for the horrible way I treated you.”

“Bucky-.”

“No,” Bucky shook his head, his tone firm but gentle. “We can sit here and argue till we’re blue in the face, but I did. I treated you like an object that was mine to keep and hold. I didn’t give you the respect you needed or deserved. I let my fears and insecurities rule my emotions. I thought if I beat them to punch before they could be proven right that I’d win somehow. In the end all it did was hurt the woman I love. And God, I’m so sorry I ever did. You were my rock. You helped me bring me out of my lowest point and I essentially spat in your face.”

Y/N didn’t respond. She glanced down at her hands, listening intently at what Bucky was saying. Bucky, however, was trying to keep his voice from breaking. No amount of therapy could have ever prepared him for difficult this conversation was. It needed to be done, but god if it didn’t sting.

“I don’t know if you could ever forgive me, and quite frankly, I wouldn’t blame you if you decided you never wanted to speak with me again.” Bucky finally said after a moment of silence. Y/N’s head snapped up and her eyes went wide. “I just want you to know, I will never, ever allow myself to become what I was ever again. I can’t say I’m fully healed, don’t think I ever will be, but I can damn well promise you that I will do everything I can to keep from going back. I can’t go back. Not to what I had become.”

Y/N couldn’t stop the tears that swelled to her eyes, the conviction and determination he spoke with shook her to the core. She hadn’t seen him in months, seeing him was overwhelming as it was, but this brought the flood of emotions she’d been keeping inside since the day he left.

He wasn’t the only one who went to therapy. Tony and Steve both agreed, that while Bucky might not have been intentionally abusive, he had toed the line rather closely. Of course, both agreed after a day or two to cool their heads that Bucky never meant her any harm. At least not knowingly. Nevertheless, they wanted to make sure Y/N was okay, that she could talk with someone who knew what they were doing about what she went through. Much like Bucky, Y/N found a little bit of determination to not let things go back to the way they were when he would come back home.

She knew her limits and had control of the voice she was finding in herself when she was with him. Her therapist helped her realized that yes, Bucky did hurt her, but he wasn’t bad. This wasn’t him. He was sick and was getting help. Help he willingly went for. She talked through whatever hidden resentment she had and it helped her see things in a new light. She wasn’t the shy quiet woman from six months ago who was too scared to speak up. Now she found a strength she didn’t know she had and Bucky inadvertently helped her find it.

Even at the end of the day, after talking through everything and working past the hurt, Y/N knew one thing. She still loved him. Fully and completely, she was head over heels in love with the man. If anything, this made her realize just how much she missed and cared about it. How seeing him in pain brought her more agony than she could have ever described. Having him here, in front of her pouring out his heart only made that awareness even stronger.

Reaching to take his hand in hers, Y/N scooted closer so that her side was against his. Bucky held his breath, stunned at how easily she moved against him. He expected her to recoil, to tell him she heard enough and had already decided that this, what they had was history. Yet, when she tilted her head back to stare at him, her eyes shown with love and understanding that Bucky never thought he’d ever deserved. He took in a deep breath, his eyelashes fluttering shut when he took her smell. Warm as honey and sweet with a hint of citrus. She smelt like what home was to him.

“Bucky,” Y/N whispered, leaned forward to press her forehead against his. Bucky hummed and opened his eyes. “You weren’t in your right state of mind, the trauma you went through in your past was still fresh and then when you threw in Vivian and her treatment to you? It was only a matter of time before you snapped. I know that deep down you never would have hurt me, but we didn’t have the tools you need- that we needed to get you through this.”

“I still hurt you though.” Bucky interjected. Y/N sighed softly and nodded, sitting back to see Bucky’s face better.

“You did.” She didn’t argue. Bucky’s shoulders dropped and he turned away. Y/N cupped his cheek, bringing his face back to hers with a gentle smile tugging at her lips. “And I forgave you a long time ago. I could never hold something like this against you. We’ve all had those demons in our heads that do nothing but tell us lies and lead us to become worse than what we really are. I only wish we could have helped you sooner before it turned into what it had.”

“How can you just forgive me so easily?” Bucky asked astonished. Y/N tilted her head to the side the smile stretching across her lips at the shocked look on his face. He really didn’t know.

“It’s simple.” She shrugged. “Because I love you.”

Bucky swore his heart exploded in his chest. The hope he had suppressed sparked to life and began to spread. His therapists told him he was still too hard on himself. It’s not that he didn’t believe them, but he wasn’t going to get his hopes up only for them to crash and burn when she’d tell him to leave and never talk to him again. He knew his girl was different, but he really hadn’t thought she was ready to forgive him so soon. The shock hit him, and it was written across his forehead in big bold letters.

“You-.” He stammered, swallowing thickly. “You do?”

“Of course I do.” Y/N laughed and snuggled closer against him. She wrapped an arm around his shoulder and tugged at his neck so she could press her forehead against his. Bucky’s melted in her hold; his eyes fluttering shut on instinct. No matter how long they’ve been apart, his body never forgot how safe he felt when he was around her. When she started to scratch the spot on his neck behind his ear with her nails, Bucky felt a rumble build in his chest and a blissful grin spreading across his lips.

“I’m not saying I’m willing to just jump back into where we were.” Y/N began softly. Bucky tensed, his eyes fluttering open. “Things have to be different if you want us to stay together. And I’m more than willing to work out anything we need to work out to make that happen. I do love you, and I’m sorry if this sounds a little selfish, but I’m not willing to let you go.”

Bucky let out a breathless laugh, gobsmacked. He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her to his sit on his lap. Y/N’s laugh echoed his, a sound he missed hearing the most, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

He stared up at her, a light in his eyes that Y/N hadn’t seen in months. She was right of course; this wasn’t going to be swept under the rug and ignored. They had done that for too long before and look where they ended up. He would do whatever he could to show her that there was no going back to six months ago. That Bucky was a thing of the past. Things were going to be different and for the better.

“To be completely honest, I wasn’t willing to let you go either,” Bucky whispered softly. “But I sure as hell wasn’t going to force you to stay with me if you decided you wanted nothing to do with me.”

“Oh really?” Y/N smirked. “Just like that? You’d walk away and that be that?”

“Yeah.” Bucky answered truthfully. “If you told me right now you wanted absolutely nothing to do with me, that you wanted me to get out of your life, I’d leave. No questions asked.”

“What? Really?” Y/N inhaled sharply.

“Yeah. I mean, it would hurt like hell, but I wouldn’t want to be the reason for your discomfort. Not anymore.”

Y/N stared down at him, the tears starting to well in her eyes for the second time that night. Bucky frowned, cupping her cheek and brushing the stray tear with his thumb.

“I mean it.” Bucky murmured softly. “You mean everything to me. If you give me another chance, I swear, I will make up for all the shit I put you through and then some.”

Y/N’s stared intently, a little crease starting to form between her brows. Slowly, a smile stretched on her face and she chuckled softly. Leaning forward, Y/N brushed her nose against him and tightened her arms around his neck. Bucky’s breath hitched and his grip around her waist tightened while his smile grew to match her own.

“Then I guess you better start making up Barnes. Cause I’m not letting you go.” Y/N whispered breathlessly against his lips before closing the gap. Fireworks exploded and a rush of euphoria swept over Bucky. He returned the kiss with equal vigor, savoring the taste and feel of his girl against him.

He didn’t know what he had done to deserve this, a woman who loved him despite all his faults and sins, but he wasn’t going to mess this up. Not ever again.

What Have I Done Tag List: (CLOSED)

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Let me know if I missed you, the strike means I can’t tag you for some reason.)