#so im not ignoring yalls take (if anyone has anything to share in the first place)

[kevinsdsy]

have been struggling to find something out of pocket for jeremy to say on twitter dot com that would lead to him going go media training to perceive shawn & jean (so he can complain about it to laila and/or cat later)

[watchmegetobsessed]

EVEN IF IT TAKES FOREVER

A/N: aaaah im so excited for yall to read this!!! im kinda ashamed to admit this whole idea came from something i heard in an ep of milf manor but lets just move past that lol

WORD COUNT: 9k

WARNING: sexual content, toxic and verbally abusive relationship, cheating (not from Harry or Y/N)

SUMMARY: Harry Styles is used to get any woman he wants, everyone knows that. But when his interest shifts towards you, everything changes and he is ready to wait for you for as long as it takes, even when he finds out you're engaged to your asshole boyfriend. Not even that ring on your finger stops him from pining after you.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

You don’t have to look up from the drink you’re making to know who just walked into the bar. It’s like the atmosphere of the whole place shifts instantly whenever Harry Styles appears, a sixth sense always triggers a siren in your head before your eyes could spot him crossing the space between the entrance and the bar. 

You’d be lying if you said you felt no excitement every time he shows up, the way your heart starts hammering in your chest is a great tell that he is anything but neutral to you, but you’ve been trying your absolute best to keep yourself under control. For one, he is known to be a flirt. Every woman in town knows that Harry loves three things, attention, pretty women and the combination of the previous two. You’ve seen him around with different partners every time, but never with the same twice. You heard the stories, the gossips and the whispers, how he shakes every woman’s world and then leaves, never giving the chance for anyone to even try to tie him down. This is not what you want or deserve.

And for two… You’re taken. Engaged, to be precise. 

When you spot Harry you instantly hide your hand behind your back, hoping the diamond ring won’t catch his eyes, because you know he would flip. 

Apparently, his latest fixation has been none other than you. He came into the bar about two months ago for the first time. He sat by the bar and clearly tried to flirt with you all evening, ignoring all the women who were brave enough to go up to him. He remained focused on you and as the evening carried on he became more and more blunt about his intentions with you. 

“So, are you coming home with me?” he asked when you walked out at the end of your shift. He was waiting by the back, leaning against his motorcycle. You were never blind, you saw how attractive he was then and you still see it now, but you just shook your head no.

“I’m taken.”

“You got a boyfriend?” He arched an eyebrow and you nodded. You expected him to give up, but instead, a devilish smirk took over his expression. “It’ll be even sweeter when I win you over, Angel.”

You were taken aback by his confidence and you were surprised when he showed up the next day, but got used to his presence quite fast. 

It became a sort of usual, have him walk in not long after your shift starts, he sits by the bar so he can talk to you, he drinks one or two beers and then asks if he could take you home once you’re done. You decline and then it starts all over again. 

An unexpected feature of his never dying attempts is that you’ve actually got to know each other during those long hours when he sat by the bar and entertained you while you worked and when he drops the cheeky act he is actually someone not just bearable but rather pleasant. You’d never admit it to him, but you kind of think of him as a friend, you’ve shared some things with him about yourself not many know. 

Like how you found out your boyfriend cheated on you. 

“You look stunning, as always, Angel,” he greets you as he takes his usual spot and you’re already pouring his drink.

“And you’re being flirty, as always,” you give him a knowing look, but he just smirks. You give him his beer and then move over to another man by the bar. 

When you return you notice the change in him and you know he saw the ring. As if you could still hide it from him, you cover it with your other hand, even though you did nothing wrong. 

“What’s that?” he asks, though it’s obvious he knows it’s an engagement ring. 

“Harry…”

“He proposed to you?” he asks, eyes snapping up to meet your gaze. 

“Yes, he did.”

“And you said yes?” He is clearly growing angrier by the second and you worry, because he tends to lose his temper easily. You don’t think he would ever hurt you, but he might take his anger out on something or someone else.

“Yes, that’s why I’m wearing the ring,” you say and try to keep yourself busy, moving the clean glasses in front of you around. 

“Y/N what the fuck?! You can’t be fucking serious.”

“I am and it’s none of your business,” you snap at him.

“The guy cheated on you!”

“Would you stop airing my private life for everyone?” you hiss at him, looking around to see if anyone has heard him. 

“Then explain to me how you are so stupid that you want to marry a man who doesn’t love you?!”

You’ve had enough. Checking if there is anyone waiting to be served you find no one so you walk out from behind the bar and grab Harry’s wrist, pulling him out through the back door to the empty parking lot behind the building. 

“Who do you think you are? You have no right to talk about me or my relationship like that!”

“Y/N, you are making a huge fucking mistake!”

“A mistake would be trusting someone about dating who has never stayed with a woman for longer than a couple of hours! What the fuck do you know about love or marriage when you can’t even stay until the morning when you fuck someone?”

It might be petty, bringing up his reputation against him just to invalidate his words, but he brought the worst out of you. 

“Because I don’t fucking lie to women about what I want! Your man lied right into your face and then only admitted to cheating when he was busted. You think he wouldn’t do it again? You think he is not doing it now? Cheaters don’t change, Y/N. He doesn’t fucking deserve you.”

“And you do?” you snap at him as your anger takes over your body. Maybe it’s because he brought up what Jeremy did or maybe it’s because he is lecturing you about something he has no right to stick his nose into. “Let me guess, I should ditch Jeremy and run to you? We fuck, have one great night and then leave me like you leave everyone, is that what I should go for? Is that what I deserve?”

He seems to be at a loss of words and that’s new. He probably wasn’t expecting you to call him out so explicitly, but it’s been building up for a while. 

“Do me a favor and stop trying to orchestrate my life. I’m more than capable of making my own decisions. Go and chat up another woman, fuck her so you stop trying to stick your dick inside me.”

You walk past him and straight inside, your rage doesn’t die down for a couple of long minutes. You take a few orders and then slowly get back to the workflow and manage to forget about Harry for a bit. When you glance towards his spot you see that his beer is still there, but he never returned. For a second you get uncertain, have you gone too far? 

No. He deserved it and everything you said was valid. It’s not your fault he can’t take the truth. 

Two days pass by and you see no trace of Harry. You find yourself looking at his usual seat from time to time and you mistake a few tall brunette guys with him, but he never actually shows up. You tell yourself you should be happy he is out of your hair, but somewhere deep inside you there’s still some disappointment that you try to push down every time it threatens to bubble up. 

Sunday comes and it doesn’t start off the best. Jeremy is in a mood all morning and he just practically picks a fight over anything you do. It’s whether what you cook, where you put the scissors or how you forget to lock the backdoor, he overreacts everything and by the time you’re leaving for work you’re a mess from all the fighting you’ve had. 

Being away from him is actually a bit of a relief, but your peace only lasts until he starts texting you and somehow you end up fighting again, this time about the outfit you wore to work. A simple black skirt with a white t-shirt, you’ve worn this before and he didn’t even notice, but today it seems like the skirt is too short for his taste and the shirt is too see-through. 

JEREMY: Enjoy the attention of every fucking men in the bar.

JEREMY: Congrats on being a slut.

You’re angry at him, but you’re also too tired to run around in circles. When he sets his mind on something nothing can change it, so there’s no use trying to convince him you’re not doing it to get other men’s attention.

You put your phone aside and ignore it for a while, but apparently, that wasn’t the right decision. Because the next time you check it you see a bunch of missed calls from Jeremy and another thread of texts.

JEREMY: Answer the fucking phone Y/N.

JEREMY: Are you fucking someone in the toilet? 

JEREMY: If I find out you fucked someone you’re dead I swear.

There’s only twenty minutes left until closing and the bar is almost entirely empty, so you step out to the back and call him. 

“Are you done fucking?” That’s what he says when he finally picks up. 

“Are you done being an asshole? I’m not fucking anyone!”

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that! I know you’re sucking dicks for tips, don’t even try to lie to my fucking face!”

He is vivid, shouting on the other end of the line and it’s making your head throb. You’re tired and you don’t want to deal with his unreasonable jealousy right now. All you want to do is go to sleep, but you know if you go home you’ll just continue from here. 

“I’m not lying, you’re delusional!”

“Stop with the fucking lies! Don’t fucking come home until you can’t admit the shit you’re doing! I will not have a woman lie into my face!”

“What the hell are you talking about? You can’t tell me not to go home, that’s my place too!”

“I’m sure you can find a place to sleep if you suck another dick.”

And with that the call ends. You’re staring at the screen in disbelief for several moments before the tears start rolling down your face. You lean against the brick wall and slide down as you let the sobs bubble from your throat. You try to call him again, but it doesn’t even ring. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whisper to yourself as you bury your face in your hands. 

You always kept telling yourself Jeremy has a temper and that he doesn’t mean it when he says these nasty things, but every time it happens again it gets harder and harder to believe that you could put up with it. You get that it roots in his jealousy, but he shouldn’t act like this with you, you know it’s not normal and yet… you still haven’t been able to do anything against it. 

You’re so buried under your pain that you don’t even notice the motorcycle that rolls into the parking lot and stops just a couple of feet away from you. Harry’s voice is what snaps you out of your spiral.

“Y/N? What are you doin–Hey, what happened?”

He rushes over and kneels in front of you, one hand on your back as the other lifts your head by your chin. 

“I’m fine,” you breathe out, as if he couldn’t see your tear soaked cheeks and bloodshot eyes. 

“No, you’re not. What happened? Did someone hurt you?” Seemingly he is trying to find wounds on you, but you shake your head. 

“It’s just… I-I don’t…” You can’t get the words out, it’s like your mind is blocked. 

“Come on, let’s go inside.”

He helps you up and you don’t protest when his arms curl around you and he keeps you close to his chest as he walks you inside. He pulls you to the stool he usually takes and makes you sit before walking behind the bar and pouring you a glass of water. 

“I need to close,” you croak and try to get off the stool, but he stops you.

“I’ll take care of it.”

You faintly hear him making the last few people in the bar leave and then the lock turns on the door before he returns and sits beside you. 

“Now tell me what happened.”

“I don’t want to talk,” you breathe out as you close your eyes. When you open them again, Harry is still there looking at you patiently. 

Then he stands and walks back behind the bar, grabbing a bottle of tequila from the shelf along with two shot glasses.

“Alright. Then let’s drink the pain away.” He pours the liquor into the glasses and then pushes one over to you, holding up the other one. For a second you just blink at him, a warning going off somewhere in the back of your head, but you’re quick to turn it off. 

Drinking the pain away actually sounds nice right now, since you can’t go home until Jeremy is having his episode. 

So you finally take the shot and you catch a tiny smile from Harry before you both chug down the alcohol. And soon more follows, at least on your side. 

About thirty minutes and three more shots later you’re definitely drunk. But at least you stopped crying and can actually laugh now, practically on anything Harry says. 

“Oh my God, stop!” you cackle, slapping your hand onto the bartop.

“No, I swear! I climbed out the window and fell straight into the jacuzzi!”

“Did her father see you?”

“No, I would be dead by now if he did?” he chuckles.

“I can’t believe you were such a playboy even as a teenager!” you keep laughing. 

“What, are you surprised?” he cheekily asks.

“Honestly, not that much,” you snort and reach for the tequila bottle, but Harry pulls it away from you. “Hey!”

“Maybe let’s slow down a bit, yeah?” You pout at him, but he just grabs a normal glass from behind the bar, fills it with water and hands it over to you instead. 

“What, you’re not up for a bit of fun?” you grin into the glass, but take a few sips anyway. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“I do want to have fun with you, Y/N. But I’m also concerned at how fast you downed those shots,” he admits smirking. 

“Ah, how sweet of you, as if you don’t just want to take me to bed,” you scoff, but you didn’t mean it in a bitter way this time, like before. “Isn’t it tiring?”

“What is?”

“Ah, don’t make me say it!”

“I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about, Angel.”

“Angel!” you groan and then let out a sigh. “Aren’t you tired of running after me? I mean, you’re used to getting your way with women. Honestly, I thought you’d stop by now.”

Harry just stares back at you and it gets intimidating, especially when a smirk curls the corners of his mouth up. Your cheeks already feel quite hot, but now they are burning. You always hated how bothered he could get you despite all your effort to reject him in every possible way. 

Just when you think he’d ignore what you said forever, he finally speaks up. 

“Would you believe me if I said it’s because you’re different?”

“Oh no, don’t give me this bullshit!” you scoff and then just laugh it off. You change position on the stool and try to cover up just how much his words affect you. 

Because it might have been the corniest thing you’ve heard from him, but you’re also just a girl who’s a hopeless romantic and this is exactly the stuff that can turn you into a giggly mess in a heartbeat. 

“Why is it your first instinct that I’m just bullshitting you, Y/N?” he asks, but he is not at all accusing, more like curious. You purse your lip, but decide not to say anything, just sip on your water. Harry walks out from behind the bar and takes the stool next to yours. “I think you don’t know your real worth, Y/N.”

“And you do?” you roll your eyes at him teasingly. 

“I would love to, but as long as you don’t let me get closer to you, I can only work with what I see. I know you probably think I’m just lying to get into your pants, but if there’s one thing you should know about me is that I’m always telling the truth. I’d been lied to before, many times and I know what it does to you, so I would never do the same to you or anyone.”

“Is this your way of buttering me up?” you smirk, but narrow your eyes at him. Your wording makes him laugh. 

“Of course.”

“Ah, you are so smooth, I hate that about you! And I hate how handsome you are.”

Oops. That’s definitely the alcohol talking, you’d have never admitted that to him sober. You catch the surprised smirk on his face and you immediately regret opening your mouth. 

“So you think I’m handsome, huh?”

“Oh shut up! I can see your head getting big!” You point at him, but he grabs your hand in the air and tugs at you gently, just enough to make you hop off your stool and fall towards him. He catches you by the waist as you end up between his legs, your hands end up on his chest as you try to find your balance. 

“I would love to hear you say how handsome you find me, but just know, that you’re playing with my self restraint.”

Even despite the shots, you can feel the switch, your breathing becomes shallow and you make the mistake of letting your eyes move down to his lips for a moment. His fingers dig into your waist and though you know you should move your hands, you love how you can feel his warmth under your palms. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened earlier? Why were you crying?”

“Jeremy,” you say in a whisper. 

“Did he hurt you?”

“Just… with his words.”

“That’s still not okay, don’t downplay it. What did he say?”

A small voice in you is telling you not to tell him more, but his undivided attention and care towards you feels so good, it’s something you haven’t experienced in a while. Jeremy is different, he is not the soft type and though you’ve been telling yourself it’s fine, you can’t deny how much you’ve been craving this kind of connection with someone. 

“He accused me of cheating, that I… I suck people off for money.”

Harry’s hands stiffen on your waist, but he stays silent and gives you the chance to talk. You can feel your throat closing up again and your instinct is to close up, but you want to take this weight off your chest in any way possible, so you don’t hold yourself back. 

“It wasn’t the first time he flipped, sometimes he just… loses his mind and takes his frustration out, often on me.”

“Has he ever hit you?” Harry asks in a somewhat cool tone, but you can tell he is holding a lot back. 

“No,” you shake your head. “But his words… He called me a slut tonight.”

Harry exhales sharply and you see his jaw jumping. Your reasonable self is pounding down the door of the room you shut it into, but you blatantly ignore it as you push closer to him. It’s your first time being this close to him physically and you want to hate it, you really do, but truth is you feel yourself being pulled towards him and you’re just too tired and weak to fight it. 

When one of his hands moves to cup your cheek you’re ready to give in. You part your lips and give him an unmistakable look and you expect him to take advantage of the moment, but he surprises you by turning his head to the side with a heavy sigh.

“Is it not what you want?” you ask quietly, trying your best to ignore just how rejected you’re feeling all of a sudden. 

“You know it is,” he replies, turning back to face you. “I want you more than anything.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

He shakes his head and your stomach sinks. You try to pull away, but he keeps you caged against him. 

“Hey, look at me.” His hand captures your chin to make you look at him, but you keep your gaze away from him. “Y/N, look at me,” he pleads again and you give in at last. 

His thumb slowly runs across your bottom lip, making it tremble from the intimacy of his touch. 

“This is all I’ve wanted since I first saw you and it’s taking everything in me not to take it. But I know you and I know that you would regret it. I would never put you in a situation that could hurt you.”

You hate how right he is, how well he knows you. 

“So considerate, respecting the… bro code and everything,” you huff, hoping to break this weird mood that’s lingering around the two of you now. Harry’s head falls back as he laughs. Then he grabs your hand that has your engagement ring on and with a confident move he takes it off, throwing it over his shoulder and you just watch with your mouth hanging open.

“I give zero fucks about the bro code, especially if it’s about that asshole you call your fiancé.”

“Did you just–”

“What I do care about is,” he continues, “you. And how you feel.”

Your mind is racing but also blank at the same time. You just stare back at him, eyes drooping as the alcohol is starting to wear you out. 

“So what, you’re just gonna wait around, hoping I will wake up one day and leave Jeremy for you?” you ask jokingly, but his answer comes in a serious manner.

“Exactly.”

There are a couple of seconds when the two of you are just staring back at each other and you swear you can see the universe in his green eyes, the past, the present and a future together and as much as it scares you, it also starts a fire somewhere deep in your chest. 

“Can you–um, can you give me a ride to my sister’s place?” Clearing your throat you pull away and this time he lets you. 

“Sure.”

You sit on his motorcycle behind him, arms wrapped around his torso tight as you watch the night lights pass by, blinking lazily, his scent filling your nose every time you press your cheek against his back. When he stops in front of your sister’s apartment’s building you almost ask him to just drive for a bit more, but you force yourself to let go of him and climb off the motorcycle. 

“Thanks for… everything, I guess,” you awkwardly say while he is still sitting on the bike. 

“Take an Advil before you go to bed.”

“Okay, stop babying me,” you laugh and he finally breaks into a smirk. “I guess I’ll see you around?”

It’s a simple question, but the obvious hidden question is right there, out in the open. It’s your way of asking if he’ll be returning to the bar despite the fight you had a few days ago. 

“Of course. Keep my seat open.”

Nodding you’re about to turn around and walk inside, but he calls after you.

“Y/N?” You look over your shoulder, waiting for him to continue. He opens his mouth, then closes before actually speaking up. “You don’t have to believe that my interest in you is genuine. I will gladly prove it to you any way possible, but… Maybe you should look at Jeremy with the same criticism as well.”

You have no idea what to say so you just nod and then keep walking until you’re inside the building, but you stay leaning against the door until you hear his motorcycle roar up and fade into the night. 

You’d love to say that after the night with Harry at the bar everything changed, but that’s not true. The next day you went back home, Jeremy calmed down by then, you had a fight nonetheless, which ended up with some makeup sex, but your head was somewhere else.

Or with somebody else.

Then it all went back to the same usual. Harry was there at the bar the next time you were working and luckily he didn’t bring up anything that happened that night. Not what you said about Jeremy, not that you practically admitted being attracted to him and not that you gave him the green light which he rejected. It’s all locked up in a box and put aside. 

However you can feel a slight change in yourself. Harry’s words did stick with you and have been on repeat ever since. 

Maybe you should look at Jeremy with the same criticism as well.

You and Jeremy have been together for over three years and moved in together a year ago. You can’t really remember a time you haven’t been with him. You do know that he is not perfect and the shit he pulls sometimes… 

You’ve thought of leaving him before. It did occur to you that maybe you’d be better off without him when he flipped in the past and turned crazy out of the blue. But every time it happened, he went back to his sweet old self, the one you fell in love with. 

But are you still in love with him?

One day, about a week later Harry waltzes into the bar, but he is not looking his usual, confident self. 

“Okay, hear me out before you say no,” he starts as he takes his spot while you’re drying off some glasses. “I know you might find it hard to believe, but I have friends.”

“We are off to a great start,” you chuckle.

“My best mate, Mitch, he lives two hours away so we don’t meet that often, but he is in town this weekend.”

“Good for him,” you smile, curious about what will come out of it.

“And we were talking about what we should do and all that and I made a mistake. He suggested this club we could check out and said we should meet there at nine but I asked him to make it ten thirty, because on thursdays you finish work at ten.”

Your hand stops mid-motion and you put the glass down, giving him a curious look as you tilt your head to the side. 

“Obviously he wanted to know who you were and I swear I told him we have nothing going on, but he is just so stubborn, he didn’t let it go until I promised I would ask if you wanted to come with us. So here I am, I asked, you can just ignore it and tell me to fuck off. I know you probably wouldn’t want to spend the night in a random club with me and my friend and his wife, so if you just–”

“I’ll go with you.”

Your reply surprises him the most of course, but yourself as well, though you don’t let it show. You spoke before you could think it through and not that it was said out loud and you can’t take it back… You don’t really mind it at all, to be honest. 

“Are you trying to mess with me right now?” he asks, leaning closer, examining you with a narrow-eyed look. 

“No. I haven’t gone out in forever actually, so I would love to.”

He stares back at you for a long moment, looking for any sign that might tell him you’re just joking, but when he sees none, he decides it’s better to just accept it. 

“Okay. Okay, then… I’ll, umm… I’ll pick you up after work?”

“Sure.” 

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you say after him, feeling entertained that you could surprise the always so confident Harry Styles. “So tell me about this friend of yours. Is he hotter than you?”

His expression changes in an instant, the cockiness returns and there is the man you know and…

“He wishes,” Harry laughs. “I met him through work.”

The apartment is silent when you arrive home that night. Jeremy is working the night shift so you have the place for yourself until he comes home at around four in the morning. The bed is unmade in the bedroom, the plates he used during the day are in the sink and the hamper is full of his clothes. It’s all waiting for you to get everything done even though you work just as much as he does. It wasn’t always like this, you remember the honeymoon phase when he would cook for you and then clean up after, when he would bring you flowers for no particular reason.

When he would actually act like someone who loves you. 

With a heavy sigh you get to work even though you just finished. When the dishes are done and the washing machine is loaded you finally sink into the couch and just sit in silence for a bit. Right until a buzzing sound interrupts your peace. Only then you notice that Jeremy left his phone on the coffee table. 

Grabbing it you check the screen and see that one of his buddies is calling. The name flashes and you wait for it to stop. When he does, you just keep holding the phone, staring at your own reflection in the black screen. 

Jeremy never lets his phone out of his hands, he takes it with him into the bathroom and he is always on it. Tapping on the screen the device comes to life and asks for a password. He never felt comfortable using  face ID or his finger print, so he only uses a password to lock it. What he doesn’t know is that you’ve seen him type it out so many times that you actually figured out what it is. 

No, it’s not your name or the date you met. It’s his favorite line of his favorite movie. 

I am Ironman.

Before you could think twice, you type it in, no space, capital I in Ironman and then the phone unlocks. A rush of excitement washes over you as you open the messages in an instant and start scrolling through them. 

Texts from his dad, from his boss, from his friends and texts from…

Andrea.

And Penelope.

And Bella.

And Riley.

Unmistakable messages, photos and even voice memos. It’s all there and you just keep scrolling and reading and it feels like it never ends. When you get to the end of one thread you find another. It’s not just one woman, but about a dozen. Not even you can turn a blind eye over it this time.

But surprisingly, you don’t feel like you want to scream or cry or punch the wall. Instead, you just put the phone back where it was, walk into the bedroom, grab a bag and start packing some stuff you’ll need for the next few days. When you’re done you walk into the kitchen, grab a paper and leave him a note. 

You have two days to move out. Take your shit and move to Andrea or Penelope or Bella or any of your bitches. Goodbye. 

Then you take the ring off your finger, place it next to the paper and walk out.

Harry wasn’t sure what he expected to see when he arrived to pick you up after your shift. He thinks you’re the most beautiful woman he has ever seen even when you’re wearing a stained shirt after a long day, so it really doesn’t matter to him what you wear.

But when you step out through the back door in your skin tight black dress that’s top sheer enough to tease him with a peek of your black bra underneath. 

“Are you gonna just stand there and stare or are we gonna get going?”

He opens his mouth to say something, but then he just shakes his head with a laugh as you finally reach him by his bike. 

“Let’s get going.”

You hit it off with Mitch and his wife Sarah instantly. It’s like you’ve always known each other and you can’t tell if it pisses Harry off or he just likes to be the victim every time the three of you make a joke at his expense. 

Even though it’s a Thursday night, the club is pretty busy, but not the kind that makes you want to crawl out of your skin, because someone is always touching you wherever you go. Harry however stays close to you no matter what, like a guard dog, watching your every move. 

It’s giving you butterflies. Especially because he is doing all this even though he doesn’t know about your little secret you will share with him, but you’re waiting for the perfect moment. 

You start off in a booth, having a few drinks, talking and having fun and when the DJ starts playing songs that are just too irresistible you and Sarah drag the men to the dance floor. They try to protest, but it doesn’t last long. As gruff as Mitch can look, it’s obvious he is whipped for his wife and would do anything Sarah asks him. 

And Harry… Well, the moment he sees you moving to the beat he practically glues himself to you. Though dancing is not your biggest strength, you can definitely follow the rhythm and move your body in a way that’s appealing to the male gaze. 

You can tell Harry is trying to keep his cool, but the more he holds himself back, the more you push his buttons. Touching him while dancing, moving in a way that obviously makes him struggle, pressing up against him and then you pull out the big guns when you start grinding on him, when you have your backside pushed against his front. His hand on your stomach twitches when your ass meets his crotch in a not-at-all innocent way and you hear his groan even over the loud music. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N,” he speaks into your ear, his hot breath sending goosebumps down your spine. You turn your head and your lips almost brush against his as you look at him innocently.

“Not having fun, Harry?”

“You’re teasing me.”

“Do you not like it?” You turn around to face him easier, but press your front against his to keep the physical contact on the same level. 

“Y/N, you’re… taking it too far,” he warns you, but it just urges you to keep pushing his boundaries. You’re enjoying this way more than you probably should but you are giving yourself the satisfaction this one time. You’re not afraid of asking for his forgiveness later, because you have a feeling he will gladly give it. 

“Am I doing something wrong?”

“No, but I might if you don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop what?”

“Acting like… you’re trying to seduce me.”

“I can’t do that? Why?” It finally brings him to the point where you wanted him to be.

“Because you’re engaged and I’m–” he snaps, but you don’t let him finish.

“Except I’m not.”

You both have stopped moving in the middle of the dancing crowd and Harry is staring at you as if he just saw a ghost. Slowly, you raise up your hand and show him your naked fingers. Reaching up he grabs your hand as if he had to physically touch your ring finger to make sure the ring is not there anymore. 

“I ended things with Jeremy and he moved out. I’m single.”

His gaze keeps flicking back and forth between your eyes as he just keeps staring at you, it seems like you broke him and he forgot how to function, but then his expression changes and you read it perfectly. 

It’s not enough for him that you and Jeremy broke up. He wants you to give him the green light.

You look down at his lips and think of all the times you fantasized about kissing them and the guilt you felt every time, but now it’s nowhere, pure desire took its place and you’re ready to give in. 

You move a hand to the back of his neck and push yourself up, making that first move, but Harry is quick to take over from there. He moves fast as his lips crash down on yours, finally kissing you with the heat of his months long pining and never dying persistence. 

You’ve had your fair share of passionate moments in your life before, but nothing compares to the way Harry practically devours you, he’s demanding, dominant and rough, but the more he takes from you the more you’re willing to give until he has everything in you. His hands are holding your face firmly, tilting your head in the perfect angle for him to greedily kiss you until your lips are numb and you’re gasping for air. And when you can’t keep up with his hunger his mouth moves down to your neck, kissing, biting and sucking shamelessly as if you weren’t on a dancefloor at a club. He has one hand move from the back of your neck into your hair, giving it a gentle tug while his other hand makes its way down your body, your ribs, your waist and then it stops on your ass, squeezing it without remorse, earning a moan from you that just riles him up even more. 

For a split second you’re convinced he is about to fuck you right then and there in front of all those people. But to your surprise he pulls back, his hand wraps around your wrist and he starts pulling you out of the crowd. At the side he finds Mitch and Sarah dancing and he leans close to his ear. You don’t hear what he says, but judging from the smirk and the way Mitch nods, he didn’t try to sugarcoat anything. 

You don’t even get to say goodbye properly, Harry lets go of your wrist, but his arm is quick to curl around your waist as he leads you towards the exit. The cool night air feels refreshing after the heat inside the club, but you don’t get to enjoy the change, Harry is eagerly pulling you towards his motorbike and when you reach it he pushes you against it before kissing you hard again. Your ass is pressed against the seat and for a moment you think it’s about to fall over along with you, but it stays steady while Harry is having his way with you. Then he just simply pulls back and helps you up, making sure you’re holding onto him tightly. 

“This will be the longest ten minutes of my life,” he says, making you laugh as he starts the motor and moments later you’re speeding down the streets. 

It really is an excruciating ten minutes until you arrive at your place, especially because you keep squeezing your thighs against his, giving him a rather hard time and every time you have to stop at a red light, Harry’s hands are quick to find your naked legs, roaming them shamelessly until he has to hold the handles again and focus on the road. 

As soon as he parks in front of the building and you get off the bike, he is back to focusing all his attention on you, so it’s a challenge to even make it up to your apartment. His hands are mapping up every inch of your body and he takes every chance to kiss you on the lips, neck or shoulder, making it almost impossible for you to even open the front door, but at last you manage and he is quick to shut the door and then push you up against it. 

But he is not kissing you this time, instead he looks at you with such passion and tenderness at the same time, it makes your whole body shiver. 

“Tell me no at any point, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper as a sudden nervousness washes over you. You are not nearly as experienced as he is and sex with Jeremy had been more about his quick relief rather than something you both could enjoy the same amount. 

“Hey, we don’t have to do anything tonight. Holding you is more than I even hoped for tonight,” he admits with a chuckle and he gives you a short, soft kiss. 

“I want to. I just… I’m afraid I won’t be… good enough.”

You’re nervously fidgeting with the neck of his shirt while his hands are plastered to the door behind you either side of you, keeping you caged in with his body. 

“Angel, you had me running after you for two months and the past weeks felt like the longest foreplay of my life,” he chuckles. “I should be the one being nervous about coming in ten seconds.”

You can’t help but crack a smile at his words and he did ease your nerves a bit, but you’re still worried. With one hand he caresses the side of your face so softly, you almost question if he is the same man who was groping your ass not long ago in a packed club. 

“I doubt you could ever not be good enough for anyone but especially for me.”

Your inside melts and there are no words that could describe the way he is making you feel. But instead of talking, you push yourself against him and kiss him, urging yourself to overcome your insecurities so he doesn’t regret choosing you. 

You manage to hype yourself up so well that when you reach your bedroom you pull away and make him stop at the edge of the bed as you stand just a few feet away from him. His eyes roam up and down your body with such hunger you have never seen from a man before and it gives you that last boost to step your game up. 

With slow, teasing movements you start to pull your dress up, revealing more and more from your legs, than your underwear and when the fabric is bunched up around your waist you cross your arms, grab the hem and pull it up and over your head before dropping to the floor, all while Harry is eating you up with his eyes, sitting there with the smuggest smirk on his face as he watches you like he is in a movie theater. 

“Fucking perfect. Come here,” he holds a hand out that you take and he pulls you between his legs, placing your hands to his shoulders as his palms slide to the back of your thighs. He places a few open mouthed kisses to the swell of your breasts before his hands squeeze your thighs, urging you to move your legs and make you straddle him. As you climb to his lap he captures your lips in a toe curling kiss and he catches you by surprise when he flips the two of you over and throws you into the mattress. 

He straightens up but just enough to get rid of his shirt, revealing even more tattoos you haven’t seen and a toned chest with abs you’re already burning to touch, kiss or lick. Or all of these above. He comes back down on top of you, his lips return to yours while his hand easily slides underneath you, unclasping your bra and seconds later he is throwing it across the room before his mouth starts moving down your neck, collarbones and then to your chest. You rake your fingers through his hair as his tongue swirls around your nipple and you gasp when he gently bites and tugs on it, flashing you a cheeky smirk when he looks up at you before he keeps moving down on your body. When he reaches your underwear he takes the elastic between his teeth and tugs on it then lets it go so it snaps back against your skin, making you gasp and give him a protesting look, but it just makes him chuckle. 

“What? Don’t tell me you didn’t wear it for me,” he mumbles against the lacy fabric, skimming it with his lips. 

“I did, but not to have you play with it,” you breathe out, however you quite like how playful he can get even in such a heated moment. This is a side of him you’ve gotten to get just a glimpse of but you’re getting the full ride now. 

“Alright. Next time then,” he shrugs and hooking his fingers into the elastic he tugs it down as you lift your hips up and soon it joins the rest of your clothes on the floor, leaving you fully naked in front of him. But before you could worry about your looks, his mouth is already on your throbbing clit, making you forget about your whole existence. 

He turns you into a whiny mess with his lips and tongue in just seconds and when he adds his fingers into the equation all you can do is repeat his name like a prayer to all powers above. You’ve never experienced anything like this, not that anyone you’d been with did it the way Harry is. Before you could even process what’s happening you’re coming on his face and he is licking up every drop of it in every possible sense. 

Your body already feels like jelly when he moves back up and he kisses you with your own taste still on his tongue, but he is not even nearly done with you. 

He kneels up and unbuttons his pants and then pushes them down along with his boxer briefs so now you’re looking at just how good enough he is finding you. You can’t take your eyes off his erection, it’s big, rock hard and the tip is glistening from the precum. It’s like the sight has turned on something inside you, because before you could have a second thought you’re moving until you’re on your knees as well, hands wrapping on his cock. Harry moans at your touch and a triumphant smile stretches across your lips as you lean down and don’t stop until your lips are wrapped around the head. 

He sits back onto his heels, eyes glued to you as you struggle to push further and further down his length every time your head bobs down. You’re far from taking his whole cock, but every time you go down again and again he keeps praising you. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good.”

“Look at that mouth, taking my cock so well.”

“That’s it Angel, you make me feel so fucking good.”

You don’t stop until your jaw is sore and when you finally come up he doesn’t hesitate to kiss you hard, pushing you back onto the mattress as he lands on top of you again. 

Half blindly, you reach towards the nightstand and into the drawer, grabbing a condom and handing it over to him. You’d love to be the one to roll it onto his cock, but your hands are starting to shake from how much you want to feel him inside you already. 

Once the condom is on he lowers his hips between your legs and you feel his length wedge between your drenched folds. He moves his hips back and forth a few times, coating his length in your arousal before reaching down between your bodies and grabbing himself by the base. 

“As much as I want to take you in every possible pose, I meant that I might not last long,” he chuckles as the head is already teasing your center. “But I won’t stop until you come again. And I’ll have all my fantasies played out next time.”

Next time. These two words make your heart jump, knowing that he is planning to have a next time and you’re still thinking about that when he finally thrusts forward and into you, filling you up inch by inch until his whole length is buried inside you. 

He stills for a few seconds, maybe to let you get used to his size or maybe to regulate himself enough to last longer, you don’t know for sure. But then his lips capture yours again and he starts moving. His hips are rocking back and forth in a steady rhythm and when you hook your legs around his waist he picks his pace up and his thrusts become a bit rougher than before, but it’s just what you needed. 

Your second orgasm is already building up in the pit of your stomach and you claw at his back as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, his moans getting muffled by your heated skin. You feel his muscles flex on his back and you can tell he is close, but he is fighting to hold back for you.

He lifts his head and rests his forehead against yours, keeping his rhythm steady and you see the struggle in his eyes. 

“I’m close,” you breathe out and he nods with an almost torturous look. “Let it go, Harry, I want to feel you come.”

“Not until you—”

“That’s what I need,” you urge him and he moans before he thrusts forward harder than before, he stays still for a moment, gasping for air as he pulls back and slams into you again, riding out his own orgasm that quickly triggers yours. 

Seeing him fall apart because of you is all you needed. 

He keeps moving for a while, but his thrusts become sloppier until they come to a halt. His whole weight is pushing against your body as your hands are lazily dancing up and down his sweaty back. You feel his heart hammering against your chest and listen to how his breathing slowly steadies before he rolls off of you. Moving with him you curl up against him, your head resting on his chest. 

Then, out of the blue he lets out a soft chuckle. Curiously you lift your head to look at him questioningly. 

“I think I need an award for lasting that long,” he comments and you laugh with him until his hand cradles your face and he pulls you up for a soft, lazy kiss. 

A siren wakes you up that passes by the bedroom window. You grimace with your eyes still closed as you roll from one side to the other, your hand reaching out, searching for Harry’s body, like you did during the night, but this time all you find is the empty mattress beside you.

It instantly sets off a siren in your head as well. 

Sitting up you look at the rumpled sheets on the right side of the bed, but Harry is still not there. Your stomach drops as you crawl out of bed and grab a shirt and a pair of panties to put on quickly before walking out of the bedroom, hoping you might find him in the kitchen making breakfast, but when all you find is your own mess from the day before, panic takes over.

There won’t be next time. That was just an empty promise, he left you just like he left everyone else. How could you even think that you were different?

Tears are dwelling in your eyes as you wrap your arms around you, but then you hear the front door open and you turn around to find Harry walking in, balancing two coffees in one hand and a paper bag in the other.

“Hey, you’re up! I went to get us breakfast, because I didn’t find much in your fridge and—Y/N, are you crying?”

“No,” you shake your head, but then a sob bubbles from your throat. Harry places the cups and the bag to the side table and rushes over to you in panic. 

“What happened? Talk to me,” he pleads, but you just shake your head, embarrassed that you instantly assumed the worst of him. 

It takes only a couple of seconds for Harry to put the puzzle pieces together as well.

“You thought I left,” he says. 

“I got scared for a moment when I didn’t find you.”

He doesn’t try to play it off or play the victim. He pulls you into a tight hug and gently sways until you calm down. When he pulls back and looks you in the eyes all you see in his gaze is determination. 

“Remember what I told you the night when I dropped you off at your sister’s place?”

“That I should look at Jeremy with criticism.”

“Before that.” You remain silent because you can’t recall what else was said that night. “I said that I will gladly prove to you that my interest in you is genuine.”

Oh, yeah. You remember that.

“The proving starts now. I will do anything to earn your trust.”

“Even if it takes a long time?” you ask, biting into your bottom lip. He smiles warmly at you.

“Even if it takes forever.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[wassupmygays]

ummm hello I would like way more about hunger games au pls I'll take anything wheres Jimmy where's Tango wheres Scar from I will take whatever you give me I will go feral over this thank you

!!!! ok first off i just wanna say u made my day with this ask im so excited that other people r excited abt this and want to hear my explosions (also i definitely want to make individual profile posts for each tribute so this will be. sparknotes of what i have thought up so far :D) Tango - i have tango in district 3, along with mumbo. district 3 is the technology district, and with mumbos redstone contraptions and tango's decked out programming, it felt very obvious placements to me :] i dont think they were very close at all before the games. not in a bad way, just they didn't cross eachothers paths all that much (subject to change but in life series canon theyre never on the same team iirc). theyre cordial in the proceedings before the games but dont train together or plan to team up. tango, skizz, and bigb eventually ally together during the training days before the games! (aka heart foundation) Jimmy - jimmy and scar are actually from the same district, district 11! 11 is the agriculture district, and to place jimmy in this district i pulled from his ranchers and empires sheriff vibes if that makes sense. i also just know that 11 is one of the poorest districts and doesn't usually do well in the games, and we all know jimmy in these games. (i considered jimmy in 12 bc of the canary thing, but skizz and impulse r from there and i figured putting him somewhere else is fun too!) scar - as said above, scar is from district 11! i don't think he is expected to do super well in the games from the reaping, but during interviews its clear that he has the charisma to get some sponsors. i honestly haven't thought up all that much for scar yet but dw i will (he literally wins. how could i ignore him) fun fact! scar and jimmy were going to kind of team together, but during the first day of training, scott (career tribute) makes some joke to gem about how they wouldnt stand a chance if they teamed together bc of their district. jimmy let this get in his head and decided to split from scar, causing both of them to be loners at the start of the games. jimmy eventually finds martyn during the games and they ally bc of reasons (that i can get into if we want to), but scar stays relatively alone honestly most of these tributes and their district placements are pretty set in my mind, except for martyn, cleo, and bigb, who i still can't figure out where to put (if anyone has suggestions pls send them lmao). ive got some bits and plot points from the series already worked out into a hunger games universe, but a lot of it i dont! if theres any specific part of the series anyone wants to ask about, please do!! i work best when someone tells me what to brainstorm on lmao. anyways lol hope yall r liking this! i dont have any clue if it will gain any traction, but i've been thinking abt this au so much since the finale and i wanted to try and share it and talk about it with people :D pls send comments or asks abt any of it if you want to !!!

[faerishv]

hii!! i rlly like ur blog :D! uhm i wanted to request hcs of kou, hanako, tsukasa, nene, and mitsuba with a transmasc y/n that wears their binder too often so it effects them. or just transmasc y/n overall! feel free to ignore if ur uncomfy w the request! - 🐝

hii im glad you enjoy my blog <33 i never wrote for a trans reader in general not being too familiar with the topic so i'll do just general headcanons :) IM SORRY IF THIS ISN'T WHAT YOU EXPECTED 😿

transmasc reader

( hanako , nene , kou , mitsuba , tsukasa )

; hanako :

ok so

if you didn't tell him , he will probably figure it out in a couple of days

when he does , he doesn't say anything

he just ,, doesn't care but in a good way

he doesn't mind that you're trans and he will not do any remarks about it

maybe after you get close to him enough he will ask you questions like "how did you figure out you are trans" or something like that

just out of curiosity

now onto the relationship headcanons

after being by your side for some time

he realizes how much of a great person you are

he wants to be with you every time

he doesn't care if you're a girl or a boy , trans or not

he just loves you for who you are ( cheesy )

( he calls you pretty boy canon !! )

( at first he had some problems remembering the right pronouns .. )

; yashiro :

tbh

she just saw you and thought

" that new boy is kinda cute .. "

when you told her you're trans she was like

" OH "

she still thinks you're cute

she doesn't have problems remembering your pronouns

expect her to bomb you with questions

she doesn't want to sound rude or anything she just wants to know more about you 😾

she's a blushing mess around you tbh

when she confessed she thought you were gonna reject her because of her ankles ..

but when you accepted her she was literally the happiest girl in the world <3

( she helps you choosing some clothes when yall are shopping togheter )

; kou :

when you told him you're trans he was like " ok ! :D "

but he's relivied that you told him

IM SORRY BUT HES STRUGGLING TO REMEBER THE RIGHT PRONOUNS

MY BB IS TRYING I SWEAR

when he get them right give him headpats /hj

anyways

best friends to lovers real

teru supports your relationship

he realize that he has feeling for you when he notice his heartbeat going faster around you

but being dense as he is it takes a lot of time before he notice

he struggle to confess , he never experienced this situation

so you do that for him

he's flustred and tries to hide it

; mitsuba :

i feel like

he made a joke about it

but you took it wrong

he felt bad

and apologized for the first time in his life

like fr he's mean towards anyone but he didn't want you to feel bad pls forgive him :(

from then he tried to think about what he wanted to say before actually saying it

you're lucky fr

you're his only exception

like hanako tho he doesn't ask questions about it

he actually gets the pronouns right

he felt comfortable enough to share his past with you

that's when he realized he took a liking towards you

he tried to talk about it to natsuhiko

bad idea

then he tried to talk to sakura about it

she suggested to confess to you but his ego is to big

so he decided to hint his interest towards you praying you would understeand them

when you confessed he acted so big but he was flustered in the inside 😸

; tsukasa :

let's be honest he doesn't even know what being trans means

you have to explain it to him

but he's still confused

he's a mess with the pronouns 😓

like hanako he doesn't see anything wrong with it

he spends a lot of time attached to you sm that you can't understand if it's because he likes you or its just normal for him

you could be start dating to a day from another

like ,, he will just state that you're his and that's it

good luck 😻

i hate how this turned out but i rll hope you like it 😓 i swear i will improve

[cora0rr3m]

New introduction/dni post!! (Ignore the last one)💜💜

Hello! Welcome, my name is Cora/Rem!! please refer to my bio for my prns and other stuff, this post will just be abt my dni rules, so yea!!

WARNING: break any of these rules, you will be blocked.

DNI IF.. (VERY IMPORTANT AND NON NEGOTIABLE.):

Proshitter (proshipper)

Homophobic/Transphobic/Racist/Xenophobic (or sinophobic)

Terfs

Radfems

Pornbots

Porn blogs (i have nothing against them, but i want my blog just to be abt cartoons and thats it)

P*do/In(est

Ableist (this also includes neurodivergent people)

Sexist/Misogonist

Anti-Abortion

Against neopronouns

lgbt fetishizer (speaking of which, if you like the webtoon boyfriends/the anime YBC get the hell away from me)

S*xualize any fictional character/s who are LITERALLY CHILDREN/MINORS.

Antis against any religion, we should respect every religion even if we dont believe in it

Any very religious people who share any gospel w/ me without my consent or just randomly spew it out, i respect you but im sorry, im agnostic/aethiest, but i still support you. <3

Socials/Useless info:

Roblox user: Too_Pinkies (Display name: Cora)

Tiktok acc (but dont expect me to upload anything): coralovescorn

(Will be adding more if necessary)

Other rules(has the same importance as the DNI rules):

If you want to share my art, please give me credit and/or REBLOG. If you wanna repost my art to other platforms, MAKE SURE IT HAS MY TUMBLR TAG IN IT AND/OR CREDIT ME.

Reblogs/comments >>>> likes (i much prefer reblogs than just simply liking, but im not forcing you at all! :) )

If you don’t agree with my headcanons, theories, opinions, or my art, etc. .. simply DNI with it/just respect it. Do not comment hate or anything. Please.

Im pretty young aswell, so no to age shaming here in this blog aswell.

Other reminders:

I might say some cuss words so if you dont like hearing them DNI, sorry :(

I rarely post content that i dont usually post from time to time and they might be triggering topics for you, so always read the TW i put in my tags first!!

yes im still in school so expect long days/weeks/months without me posting, ill still try my best to pull out any content as possible for you guys!! <3

plsplspls ask me abt my iahb hcs i cannot stop talking abt them

I have crippling anxiety and that might also be the reason to as i might not post as much, im super sorry :(

ask me any questions about my posts or myself if you have any!!

List of fandoms im in:

(I removed this from my og intro post but i feel like adding it back in, in a desperate attempt of getting people to talk in my dms)

In a heartbeat (Animated shortfilm, 2017)

Carmen Sandiego (Animated Netflix Series, 2019)

South Park (adult swim show)

The Owl House (Disney Animated Series, 2020)

Moral Orel (also an adult show, its on youtube)

Arctic Monkeys (indie rock band, alsobtwwhileimatitlistentobodypaintplsplsplspls)

Metal Family (13+ animated show on youtube)

Dead Disney movie fandoms, (such as Encanto, and turning Red)

Helluva boss and Hazbin Hotel (Two animated adult shows, but im not as active in this fandom anymore sadly)

Cookie run Kingdom (RPG game, not as active anymore aswell, mymainwascaramelarrowcookieilovedhersm)

Genshin Impact (RPG game, not as active anymore, #proudexganyuandnoellemain)

Nimona (Animated Film)

Please be respectful and nice to me or anyone in this blog! Ily, take care yall 💗

[delicrieux]

—MAKE YOU SAY “OH” EXTRAS: TINDER

extra meaning non-canonical occurrence; can be placed anywhere in the “make you say oh” timeline after couple (cha. 14) and before the final “oh”. 

pairing—corpse husband x f!reader warnings—tinder profiles, tw: men, swearing.  word count—2.6k. format— written. ─── ❥ req by nonnie​:  y/n makes a youtube vid/live stream where she's just swiping through her tinder acc and corpse literally blocks her lmao

author’s note—akldsljfs this was such a funny idea i could not not write it lmao

ultimate masterlist. myso masterlist

You have pulled the biggest brain move by setting up both a facecam and a screen recorder on your phone. All is beautifully displayed and visible during the stream. Your fanbase is particularly intrigued on what exactly are you planning on doing today, seeing as your tweet of “strea” had been a bit vague, if not downright ominous. No emojis. No elaboration. You couldn’t even be bothered to finish the word. Truly, a mystery. Everyone tuned in and are currently waiting with bated breath.

A few of your fans must sense upcoming doom because the overall mood in the chat turns from optimistically intrigued to...evil. It’s an entity all on it’s own now, clawing at you through the screen with various renditions of laughter and devil emojis. A few eggplants thrown in there for good measure, accompanied, naturally, by the scandalous water drops. At first the common consensus is that you’re biting the bullet and going through your camera roll on stream. Definitely an idea worth considering, though you frankly don’t know what lies at the start of the 11k photograph journey, and you are afraid to check in public. Could be a harmless meme, could be a salacious pic you had saved of an OF star. It’s really a gamble. Either way, you would definitely get banned. You might still get banned. Why do you insist on doing shit like this?

Because it’s funny. Because you’re kinda stupid. Because it’s just so absolutely laughably easy to do.

A smile quirks your lips, and while it is not explicitly smug, the look in your eyes sure is, “Greetings,” You utter lowly, dimming the lights--the budget for this stream! Ugh, you went all out, “my children.”

mother i crave violence

sensing evil energy rn!!

i do not claim the energy in this video for myself or anyone else watching this 💖💖

^with peace and love shut the fuck up

“I know y’all lowkey hoes-” Upon your words the chat splits into two: one side eagerly agrees (even shares a few OF accounts! How helpful, supporting small businesses!), whilst the other feverishly insists on innocence. You make a face stuck somewhere between offended and bewildered, “Now c'mon now-I know you. I know you all. We’re the same, don’t-what was that?”

You try to scroll back to the comment but it’s loss in the sea of incoming messages, “I swear to God I just saw-”

Corpse_Husband: i love late night streams it’s not like i have anything better to do.

“COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORPSE!!!!” 

rip headphone users

i cant feel my face when im with you by the weeknd but instead of face its my fucking ears

yall think full vol on pc is better?my parents woke up 😭😭😭😭

To think he’s spending his last waking moments for today with watching you (he probably still would have anyway, because you do not posses an ounce of shame or self-control and pester him relentlessly)! It makes your heart sing, and suddenly, a traitorous, fun hating idea barges it’s way through the crowd of incoherent buzzing and states: don’t do this. For some reason it also has the voice of Rae. As if that would work in guilt-tripping you- Rae never succeed, and her fictitious rendition in mind won’t fare much better either.

Still, you thought about it. That must count for something. Corpse will understand, won’t he? Why don’t you want to upset it in the first place? Men look so funny when they lose their shit, like hello, don’t you have anything better to do? But the image of Corpse just sitting there, hurt, distraught, leaving you on seen because he’s in his sad boy hours leaves a sour taste in your mouth. 

queen rly went from  🥺😊 to 😕 u ok bbgirl?

Corpse_Husband: no pouts cutie

akjdjoeijdfse cUTIE??? deadass boutta r.i.p.

Well that succeeded in eliminating everything from mind, doubts included. If this was an anime, the scenery would shift into something roseate, with flowers and bubbles and sparkles all around you along with a halo or two. Alas, not an anime, rather reality. The led-lights, however, seemingly possessing a will of their own, slowly turn from deep violet to pink. You smile brightly, like the absolute dumbass you are, and you are met with a ray of heart and blushing emojis. You are just so cute, a real cutie! Still in your disguise adorable state, you swipe your finger on your phone screen, the grin never leaving your lips.

There, among the plethora of apps, nestled sits a red square with a white fire plastered on it. The delicate calligraphy on the bottom reads: TINDER.

The mood changes once again- you’re giving the roaches emotional instability by how quickly everything flips over- and the chat spams eggplants vigorously; some, of course, bravely fight against the thirst.

nooooooo i thought y/n is gonna stream in a god honoring way!!!

^pack it up girl defined

“So, Charlie and I-” You note a few awfully curious comments and squint, “-yes, we talk a lot. Charlie is a really good friend of mine. We’re best friends. Brothers. Sisters. Cousins. The whole fucking family tree-no, that sounds weird. Delete. Anyway, Charlie, being the absolute fucker he is, said, hey, you know what would be funny? And I was like, nooo, what would be funny, Charlie? And he says to me, he says, says, making fun of men on Tinder. And if y’all need any more proof that Charlie and I are platonic soulmates, then dunno, my children, my roaches, I dunno-I dunno what more to give you.”

You can’t be bothered reading the comments, there’s too damn many. You also need to save your reading comprehension for the actual bios. It has a time limit, that darn thing. 

“Okay, so I made a profile earlier, but I hadn’t swiped on anyone yet-” Despite the fact, Tinder helpfully informs you that already 99+ people have swiped right on you, “So, this is me,” You show the pictures you have of yourself, and damn, not to be a conceited narcissist, but you look really good. Like if you saw yourself on Tinder, you’d super like instantly. “Uhm, so, my bio-my bio says: let’s sauce in the tub together, ya dig? splishy splashy, giggle giggle.” 

i cant believe we are witnessing y/n trying to form a coherent sentence live 

shes trying give her time

ya dig??? y not capeesh

what scene from the godfather is this lol?

“My anthem, is,” You laugh, covering your lips with your hand, “Corpsie, this is form you-” Proudly, you show that indeed, Corpse’s E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY FUCKING LIFE is listed as your anthem on Spotify, “Hehe.” Yes, you say that aloud.

Corpse_Husband: you’re killing me Corpse_Husband: thanks baby Corpse_Husband: now delete tinder ❤︎

You ignore his last quip, deciding it’s finally time to get this show on the road, “Right, let’s do this shit. I’m not actually going to swipe on any guys that look, uh, decent? Yuck, can’t believe I just said that, uhm, because I-because I feel like some actually deserve a chance with someone? I don’t wanna get anyone’s hopes up, as I am currently in a long distance relationship with Chrollo. So I’m just gonna swipe on, like, frat boy assholes. Because I don’t care if I hurt their feelings. Quite frankly I don’t think they possess them in the first place.”

The chat voices their agreements. With the ground rules set, you, giddy, click on the first profile.

Does Tinder know what you’re doing, your plan? The FBI agent watching you through your phone must be working overtime, bless his heart. They must, because the the first guy to meet you is named Jason, and there he is, blond hair and blue eyes, holding up a fish the size of his torso. Marginally adequate in looks, pretty good muscles. A solid 7 bordering on 8. He’s the same age as you, 15 miles away, and he studies at some college you don’t care enough to look up. Bio reads:

I like to drive fast. Fishing is my passion, but if you can’t catch me by the ocean, you’ll catch me catching waves, bro! Love a good gym date. You do squats, and I’ll keep a close eye to make sure you’re doing it correctly ;) You probably saw me at a party. Leader of the The Phi Kappa Psi. I’m a Gemini, if that matters lol.

You, of course, read it aloud, dramatically; provide some constructive criticism-he seems nice, but he’s a Gemini, so naturally, you can’t trust him at all! Also, that gym date session leaves little to be desired. With your rant done, you swipe right, and shocker! (not), it’s an instant match.

“Okie, I still wanna swipe of some profiles, so I’ll see what he’ll text later-” For a second you wonder the legalities of this stream, but you’re having too much fun to think of it further, “guys, I won't get sued, right?”

NOW she considers it

well....

if you do, we’ll kickstart your lawyer dw <3

Onto the next profile. Kevin, 25, is seen fixing his car- or, you assume he’s mid-fixing it, you don’t really know why else he’d hold a wrench and be covered in oil. He’s shirtless, and the caveman part of your brain echoes something closely resembling AWOOOGA!, but...but!...blonde hair, blue eyes. You pout again, “I don’t...I don’t really like blond boys, ya know? With the blue eyes and all, it’s just not my thing, uhm, unless it’s like-like...Armin from Attack on Titan. Else I don’t care.”

Onto the bio:

You have to treat a car like you treat a woman: go on long rides, take the lead, but most importantly, keep her oiled up 😜 

“What the fuck did I just read?”

The chat is equally confused. You swipe right anyway- another match. Too easy.

The stream continues without incident for a solid thirty minutes- all of your matches, expect a few that genuinely looked like normal dudes that really couldn’t write a decent bio to save their lives, had been blond hair blue eyed gym rats with ranging forms of misogyny. Some opened with asking for nudes out right, some asked about your day first before asking for nudes. You prefer the former. Straight to the point! You admire the gall. 

But then, down the forty-five minute mark a profile popped up that made you still by your phone, your smile dying as your eyes bulged. Dear God. Lord in heaven. Who is this demonspiit lookalike and why is he so fucking hot? The neck tats, the skateboard, the clothes- holy shit, you gotta close your mouth before some drool dribbles out.

No bio, just his name, Tyler, and that he’s 23.

“He boutta be 23 in me.” You mutter, swiping right with lightning speed.

WHAT DID SHE SAYYYYY?????????

tyler is y/ns karma for relentlessly mocking that one guy that had a whole ass list on what his “female” partner should be

^he deserved it and also tyler seems like a typical fuckboi y/n grow a braincell

look at mom 🥺 her eyes are sparkling

It wasn’t a match right away. You somehow expected as much, but it still upset you. Simp behavior, pathetic. The stream continued bravely, and when Tyler messaged you a simple “yo” you totally didn’t sequel. You didn’t manage to text him back on stream: texting all those guys that you didn’t really find all that attractive was easy, but this...You’re a sucker for a man who radiates red flag energy. His whole profile is a red flag. He might just be a red flag himself.

What can you do? Suddenly becoming color blind is not easy. Once the stream ends, you unmatch with everyone expect Tyler. He you chat with for a bit, but a sudden craving for different company makes you abandon him, too. You don’t feel too heartbroken for him- you’re certain there’s already too many girls in his dms. You wish them luck.

Happily, you delete Tinder. You go to Twitter, notice you’re trending again- look at you go! Queen shit- and as you compose a thank you tweet, something strange happens. You go to text Corpse, but when you click on his profile you grow cold.

YOU’RE BLOCKED. You can’t follow or see @/Corpse_Husband ‘s Tweets. 

...Pardon? You hop onto Instragram and-also blocked. Seriously? And you thought you’re one petty bitch. Corpse is seriously prissy about everything. Damn, if he didn’t like your stream, he could’ve just said so. Didn’t need to, like, block you from his internet existence. So not cool.

You try texting him but no text go through. Well how will you let him know you deleted Tinder just like he asked? You relieve your frustrations by punching your pillow a few times. Later, you apologize to her, you didn’t mean to hurt her, it’s not her, it’s you. Fuck, 5 minutes of exile and you’re already loosing your mind.

“Raeeeeeeeeeeee!” You whine loudly. It’s roughly 2am now, but you don’t care. You’re too heartbroken to care. There’s a thump from her room, but nothing else, “Raeeeeeeeee!!!” You wail, wallowing in self-pity on your bed. You hear a very loud, very annoyed sigh from her room, followed by angry marching. Your door is abruptly thrown open, and in the dim, colorful light you see her scowl.

“What?” She grits.

“Can you please tell Corpse to unblock me from everything?”

“What did you do now?”

“I made fun of men on Tinder.”

She pauses, “...That doesn’t sound so bad.” She surmises, voice laced with suspicion, “What else?”

“...There was one really hot guy that I kinda sorta talked to after--”

“Y/n.”

“-But I totally deleted Tinder and honestly he was pretty boring, so, like, uhm, please?”

She sighs, the servery of which implies she is holding the weight of the world on her shoulders, and instantly you know that you won. She taps away at her phone, “You owe me one.” She states, and before you can reply, she exits your room and slams the door behind her.

Grinning, you text his phone again. The message goes through, oh gosh, you’re so relieved you feel like crying. This has been, officially, the worst five minutes of your life.

You Y DID U BLOCK ME LOSER!!! MAJOR LOSER ALERT!! I DELETED EVERYTHING IT WAS A JOKE r u still mad at me? y u always mad at me i never do anything:(

my husband You’re my baby, how do you think I’ll react when I see you publicly simping for some asshole on Tinder?

Oh no, he used the words, he delivered the killing blow. You’re finished. Your heart can’t take such a workout. 

Not that you would ever admit it to him, though!

You hehe ur jellyyyy u always dis jealous hehe?

my husband Not jealous.

Yeah, you might not be the brightest tool in the shed, but even you know that’s a lie. You send him an array of kissy emojis that he doesn’t have the decency to reply to. Then, completely unprompted and dead serious, you send him a simple voice memo, saying: “You really have nothing to worry about, you know? You’re my favorite, Corpsie.”

He responds via text, reiterating that he’s not fucking jealous and that he just doesn’t like when you show such outward interest in anyone but it’s not like he cares or anything. It’s just really, like, weeeeird to see his baby simping for another man like that totally ruins the whole dynamic!!! It was only natural that he should block you on every social media platform, including his personal number (which, like, was completely necessary! Doesn’t matter that his viewers can’t see it, it’s gotta be super believable!), and inform his followers of that, because it’s all a joke, like, for the dynamic, that Youtube grind, you know? Ya dig? No personal feelings were involved at all. He totally wasn’t upset that you found someone else cute, no way!

my husband I’m not jealous. Lol.

You ik u repeated tht like 50 times  u trynna convince me or??? lmao

my husband No comment. ...You don’t actually talk to anyone else like we’re talking, right?

You no one else calls me their baby if thts wat ur wondering at least not to my knowledge lol im all urs

my husband That makes me very happy to hear:)

Yeah, it makes you very happy, too.

hope you liked it!! xx

[crash-cinematic-universe]

tiger lilies, self destructing, and richard siken

pairing: peter maximoff/reader

summary: to peter maximoff, love is an anomaly that scares him more than anything else. however, you might be able to help him overcome his fear.

warnings: language! but that’s about it. kind of cheesy at some points but yknow what im not lactose intolerant

notes: this is the monsterous fic thats been kicking my ass this past week (6.2k words babey!!!) i was originally going to add ~~steamy~~ section to this one but i decided against it to make it readable for those who don’t wanna see that kind of stuff. if you want me to separately publish that then just lmk!!  (if any of yall wanna talk about richard siken to me then please do, his work is so good)

taglist: @stranger-names ,  @gooseyhouse , @parkersdarling​ 

1. 

To Peter Maximoff, physical affection has always been a touchy subject-- no pun intended. His speed is a blessing, but also a bitter curse. He moves at the speed of sound, bouncing off the walls and tearing up the roads; he moves impossibly fast, and no one ever tries to catch up with him. People get tired of Peter rather quickly, not bothering to get attached to him when they know they can’t keep up. 

That’s why it’s so jarringly startling when you decide to stick around. When faced with the grand decision of throwing in the towel and leaving Peter behind or sticking around and trying your best, you chose the latter. It was surprising, to say the least. Peter waited patiently for the distance between the two of you to start growing; he waited for the void you once filled to open up again. However, the void never emptied, and the distance never grew. 

To anyone else, this would be a wonderful experience. Knowing that you wouldn’t be left behind or forgotten about would be comforting to anyone else in Peter’s position. However, this did the exact opposite for Peter. He wasn’t comforted or relaxed, on the contrary, he was always on edge. The future was cruel, and the mystery of it all felt like torture. 

To quote the great Richard Silken, “Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” Peter lived and breathed by this ideology, that everyone he loves would have to leave eventually, whether it be by their own volition or not. It was obvious that you didn’t plan on abandoning ship anytime soon, so Peter decided he’d take matters into his own hands. If you weren’t going to be the first one to walk away, then he’d be the one to run away from you. He soon came to learn that loneliness was at its most bitter when you’ve come to taste the sweetness of love. 

Love was a strange, complicated beast that Peter Maximoff had never dealt with before. If he were to be completely honest, love scared him. It scared him more than dying scared him. To Peter, death was an escape. Death was the end of a tiring journey, it was safe and simple and easy. Love was the opposite, it was the mouth of a dragon and the edge of a blade. It was the beginning to something so fragile and powerful, something that could end in flames. 

Peter realized he loved you on a summer afternoon. The sun was shining and you were in the shade. He sat down next to you, and within minutes Kurt and Ororo appeared at your side. They seemed so put together, so sure and strong. Peter felt out of place-- he felt as if he were standing outside of a cabin looking in through the window at your wonderful friendships. He watched with his nose pressed against the glass as you walked across the room and opened the cabin door to let him in. 

Peter realized he was in love with you in the middle of the night. A thunderstorm raged outside the mansion walls and raindrops kept time as Peter walked down the hallway. You were sitting on the floor of the common room next to a dying fire, a book clenched tightly in your hands. For a moment, he just stood against a wall and watched you. As creepy as he felt, a part of him believed he’d ruin your night by making himself known. He was okay with being a fly on the wall if it meant he’d get to see you. Peter wondered if there was a world where he had the pleasure of knowing you, without you having the burden of knowing him. 

Still, you saw him. And you knew him. And you waved him over with a smile. He felt the urge to run, to leave you here alone with yourself, but he stayed put. Then, one step at a time, he moved forward. He got closer and closer before he found himself standing at your feet. 

“You’re welcome to stay,” you told him. He believed it. Peter sat down next to you, letting his shoulder brush against yours.

“What’re you reading?” He asked. Peter already knew what you were reading, he read the cover of the book the moment he sat down, but he still wanted to hear it from you.

“Crush by Richard Siken,”

“Oh. What’s it about?” Peter already knew what it was about. He’d read it at least fifty times.

“It’s kind of hard to explain. I’d much rather just read it to you and let you decide for yourself,” Peter’s stupid little heart lurched, and he almost cried at the thought. He held it together, though. 

“That would be nice,” He said softly. 

“Sorry about all the writing in the margins, I can’t help myself sometimes.” Peter scanned the sides of the pages, marveling at your notes. Some of them were reactions, littered with exclamation points and question marks and bold letters. Some of them were underlined phrases and little doodles-- most notably a little drawing of a chameleon on a tiger lily. He loved them.

“It’s okay. Literature is meant to be marked up-- what’s the point of reading if you don’t get to share the love?”

“That’s a good point,” You grinned. Then, the reading began, and you allowed Peter to rest his head on your shoulder as you read to him. Even though he’d heard the poems a billion times by now, they sounded brand new coming from you. He listened closely. You were arriving at his favorite part, “You are Jeff” section 24. 

“You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you...” You read on, not noticing the way Peter’s eyes had shifted from the book you were holding to your face. Peter’s mind wanders, and he curses himself for missing the lines you were reading “... You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for.” 

Peter felt like he was going to cry. You kept reading and he kept looking. It was getting late, and Peter was getting tired. Your voice had softened and slowed, and the fire that was burning in the fireplace had all but died. Peter was the one that fell asleep first, and you followed closely after. Both of you had lingering smiles on your faces. 

2. 

Intimacy is an odd thing, isn’t it? Thinking critically, intimacy is just vulnerability with more layers. It’s the closeness between people, it’s allowing yourself to connect with someone you care about. It’s stripping yourself down to muscle and bone and hoping the other person doesn’t let you bleed out. It’s a level of trust that is more than closing your eyes and falling backwards; it’s closing your eyes and letting them push you over the edge into the unknown, and trusting them enough to know you’ll be okay when you hit the ground.

It didn’t take long for Peter to realize that he had trouble with being intimate with other people. Too many times had trusted someone to push him over the edge, only to realize he’d be shattered when he hits the ground. After that, he decided intimacy was overrated. It’s not like anyone was going to have that kind of relationship with him, anyway. 

Of course, then you came along and uprooted his entire worldview, like you had with everything else. He found himself thinking about you at every waking moment, which inevitably led to him… thinking about you at every waking moment, if you catch my drift. Sure, intimacy involves more than just physical intimacy, but Peter knows he can’t ignore the feeling that rises in his stomach whenever he’s around you. For the first year or so of your relationship, Peter became very familiar with the feeling of an ice-cold shower. 

What Peter didn’t take into consideration was you. For some reason, Peter struggled to understand the fact that you were just as attracted to him as he was attracted to you. It was no secret that Peter was insecure, but he never really realized how much his insecurity affected his relationships. If he couldn’t love himself, how could anyone else? Peter is the only one who gets to see his persona in its truest form, and every time he has to avert his eyes. It’s safe to say his physical appearance has been the cause of very many painful-- and occasionally tear-filled-- sleepless nights. 

He told you this. He told you everything. He told you about Erik, he told you about his childhood, he told you about everything he loved and hated and feared and yearned for. That ordeal alone was scary enough, knowing that at any moment you could decide you didn’t want to deal with him anymore, but as always, you stuck around. You told him everything. You told him about your family and your struggles. You told him about everything you loved and hated and feared and yearned for, and not once did Peter even think that he wanted to walk away. This is the kind of intimacy that, over the years, Peter had struggled with less and less.

Still, it was the sexual aspect of intimacy that freaked him out. It was a beast he’d never dealt with, a feat he’d never faced. That being said, as every day went by Peter became more and more… frustrated. He didn’t know how to approach the subject, so he'd just let the subject approach him and wing it. 

And as he sat on his bed watching as you twirled around to Tears for Fears “Everybody Wants To Rule The World”, Peter realized he didn’t have much to worry about. 

“Dance with me, dollface,” you laughed, reaching out for him. You looked like someone straight out of a movie, the lim blue light coming from Peter’s arcade machines illuminating a halo above your head. You put Molly Ringwald and Emilio Estevez to shame. Peter took your hand, grinning like an idiot as you twirled him around. 

There he was, dancing in his mother’s basement with his favorite person in the entire world. He wasn’t a great dancer, and neither were you, but that didn’t matter. Peter was dreading this visit-- he hated the idea of being back in the basement that made him feel like a failure. But you assured him that you’d be there with him, and that getting to see his family would make it all worth it. His family isn’t what made it worth it, though. 

“Brain Damage” by Pink Floyd came next, slower and a bit more somber, but still danceable. Your arms shifted to around his neck, pulling him closer than he already was. Somehow, you ended up with your back against the wall as the song came to a close. He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips.

“I love you,” Peter spoke softly. This was a small victory-- he’d been so scared of the mere idea of loving someone. You were the only one who got to hear his love confessions. They were for you, and for you only.

“I love you too,” Peter would never, ever get tired of hearing that. Knowing that you love him is enough to keep him going for a hundred years. And he knows the odds, he knows that love is rocky and painful as much as it is beautiful. He knows that love can feel sweet in the beginning and go sour overtime. He knows that first, second, third relationships don’t always work out. But he thinks this is going to work out. And Peter doesn’t think this will ever go sour. Maybe that’s his blissful ignorance talking, maybe he’s jinxing it, but at this moment, he doesn’t care. Right now he is at his happiest, at his most content. 

“You wanna watch a movie?” You asked softly, pecking Peter on the cheek. He could feel the warmth radiating off of you, and Peter grinned. In an instant the tv across the room began playing the opening credits to the first movie that popped into his head. 

“The Breakfast Club?” You questioned. Peter shrugged.

“What can I say, I’m a sucker for a good coming-of-age kind of movie,”

You sat against the headboard of Peter’s bed, allowing Peter to settle beside you. Your head rested on his shoulder, and he was quick to grab your hand. Peter loved the closeness. Over the past year, he’d come to realize he was a very affectionate person. Previously, Peter hadn’t known soft, physical love; the only time anyone would ever touch him would be as punishment or defense, not love. Love. Peter had gotten more comfortable with the idea of love, because when he thinks of love he thinks of you.

3. 

Every good story has a villain. A villain that you love to hate, or hate to love. A villain you can sympathize with, a villain you can’t excuse, a villain that the mere mention of makes you sick to your stomach. An unexpected villain. An obvious villain. A villain that’s just trying his goddamn best. Sometimes the villain is defeated, sometimes the villain changes their evil ways. Sometimes the villain dies and the crowd cheers. 

Peter Maximoff never thought he’d be the villain of his own story. He tried his hardest to be a good person, but there was always that side of him that made him afraid. He was like an explosive; whenever someone got too close, he’d detonate and destroy everything around him. It was a self-defense tactic, albeit counterproductive. 

It killed you to see him that way. He told you about the relationships he’d lost to himself. He told you about the abandonment and the loneliness. It broke your heart. He tried to distract himself, drowning himself in work so he’d never have the opportunity to ruin what he had with you. Peter Maximoff was a walnut tree; every time he planted his roots and began to grow, he’d kill anything that grew too close. However, the constant working started to wear Peter down.

It started with the late nights. He’d collapse next to you at four AM, knocking out the minute his head hit the pillow. Still, he’d be awake before you were, already scrambling around trying to complete various tasks. He was like a machine that was running from it’s problems. The late nights turned to all-nighters, and the few hours Peter managed to salvage set aside for sleep had shrunk to a few minutes at a time. He didn’t eat anything with even a hint of nutritional value. At this rate, he was going to work himself to death. 

The worst part? Peter knew what he was doing. He wasn’t stupid. He just needed to shut up the little voice in his head that urged him to act out. The entirety of his childhood, Peter destroyed what he created. The need to be isolated, the feeling that he deserves to be alone spread throughout his body like a cancer. He locked himself away in the basement, trying desperately to stay out of everyone’s way so they wouldn’t shut him out. People tried to coerce him out of his cave, to pull him out of the bottomless pit he threw himself into. Peter saw them as the sirens trying to lure him into the ocean of loneliness, and he wasn’t going to fall for it. In his eyes, anyone who tried to help him were the villains of his amazing, heroic tale. Fortunately for him, one by one, they started to give up on helping him. They thought he was a lost cause; a fucking loser who was destined to wallow in his own self-pity until he died. At first, this was a triumph. He defeated them, he outwitted the sphinx and slayed the dragon. But a part of him hated himself for becoming the worst-case scenario that every parent feared their child would grow up to be. 

He pulled himself out of his pit and back onto his feet, all by himself. It was hell on Earth, but he did it. That cancerous feeling of uselessness retracted back into itself, now residing in the place next to Peter’s heart. However, that horrifying fear of becoming a burden began to grow again, this time when Peter was in his mid-20s. He began to overcompensate, and that led him to where he was; always on the brink of collapse, running on nothing but coffee and twenty minutes of sleep. In return, Peter got to have friends. In his mind, that was fair. In your mind? Not even close.

You managed to catch him in his bedroom as he was in the midst of simultaneously scribbling in a notebook and reading an open novel. Peter Maximoff would always be the most beautiful person in the world in your eyes, but at that moment, he looked like hell. Your plan seemed foolproof, but then again, you weren’t sure what you were walking into. Lately, Peter didn’t seem like himself. Probably because of the lack of sleep. 

“Peter?” He looked up at you, eyes half-lidded. “I got you something.”

“You did?” A sleepy smile was all he could muster, but that was google enough for you.  

“I did. It’s to mark exactly three years since I first met you,” you sat down on his bed, placing the small wrapped book right next to you. Peter glanced at the calendar on the wall-- oh god, you were right. It’s been three years to the day and he forgot. He deserves the title of “World’s Worst Boyfriend”. Scott will probably be upset that he’s losing his title.

 “What’re you up to?”

“Finishing up some old work I’ve been putting off,” he punctuated his sentence with a yawn. “Some of my old work and some of Hank’s, too.” “Why are you doing Hank’s work?”

“He seemed stressed about something, thought I might help clear his head,” The sentiment is sweet, you’ll give him that.

“Alright, well, can we talk for a minute?” Alarm bells went off in Peter’s brain. There has never, in the history of the universe, been a good conversation that started with ‘can we talk for a minute?’ or any of it’s cruel variants. 

“Actually, I’m kind of busy right now, can this wait?” It was obvious that the answer to that was no, but still, he felt the need to ask. 

“Not really, no. It’s important.” Peter saw the next few seconds playing out in his head. The inevitable had come to fruition; you realized that you could do better, and now you were cutting him loose. He couldn’t blame you, not really, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t going to rip him to shreds. He realized that whatever you brought for him was most likely a parting gift. How sweet.

“Oh. Alright.” 

“Well, I’m going to give it to you straight,” you sighed. “I’m worried about you, Peter.”

Oh. He’s heard this speech before, he knows the spiel. He can vaguely recall a guidance counselor telling him the exact same thing before Peter decided to call him a slew of expletives. The tar pit in his chest began to grow.

“I’m fine.” This was a lie. The first lie in a long chain of lies that Peter was about to tell to you, his favorite person in the world. He loved you, but in that moment his vision clouded over. You weren’t the person he loved and cherished anymore, no, you were just another faceless blur that provided a temporary escape. 

“Really? I feel like you’re pushing everyone away, you’re pushing me away.” Peter was becoming more and more irritated by the second.

“I told you, I’m fine. I’m not pushing you away. 

“Don’t lie to me,” your voice is firm and unwavering. “You don’t sleep, you almost never eat-- I don’t think I’ve seen you stand still for more than three minutes once in the past month--”

“That’s just how I am,” Peter huffs. He wanted this conversation to be over. “That’s not your problem.”

“Your wellbeing is my problem, Peter, that’s the whole point of being friends with someone. Even more so now, because you’re my partner and I care about you--” 

“Then stop,” Peter rolled his eyes. He's more irritable than normal-- most likely because he hasn’t slept in days. He could almost feel the venomous arms of isolation creeping around him. It’s a sick pattern, he knows; every time someone gets close to him, he feels the need to self-destruct before they lose interest. Even now, even after all this time, Peter’s still powerless against the poison in his veins. 

“What?” You’re losing your reserve and your stature. He can tell. You’re slouching and picking at the cuticles on your thumb. It’s almost as if he’s been shoved into the back seat, and is now being forced to watch as a stranger takes the wheel and crashes the car. So much frustration, so much hurt, and it’s all coming out right now, onto you. Peter already regrets this entire interaction, but still, he manages to spit acid. 

“Stop caring. Just leave, I know you want to. I know every night, you lie awake and think about all the different ways you can leave me in the dust. Not that it would matter to me.” This is another lie. Your eyes flash with hurt, but you stay put. You know he’s just being an asshole because he’s exhausted and too stubborn to admit that you’re right. He’s egging you on intentionally, trying to get you to snap and walk away. 

 “Peter, god, I love you but sometimes you can be so...”

“So what? C’mon, be honest with me,” He huffed. 

“Frustrating,” You surrendered. The poise you once held was gone. “I know it isn’t your fault-- I know you’ve trusted so many people so deeply and been betrayed or sold out and I know you’ve loved so many times and been thrown to the curb without a second thought. But I don’t know what I can do to convince you that I’m here for you, and that I love you. I’ve tried everything, and it feels like I’m talking to a brick wall. I want to make this work, but I need you to work with me.” It’s evident in your voice that you’re desperate. You’re just hoping you’ll get through to him, somehow. “I need you to want it as bad as I do-- hell, I need you to want it at all.” Here it comes--

“You ever think, maybe, I just don’t want you to be that person for me? I’ve spent my life being independent, my entire existence so far has been built around the fact that I’m going to end up alone. People come and people go-- people like you and Charles-- and they tell me they care. They tell me that they love me and that they're here for me. And then they get tired of me and they leave. I wish that you would just leave me the fuck alone and let me live in solitude,” There it was. The lie to end all lies. The words tasted awful coming out of his mouth, and the whole ordeal left his mouth tasting very… sour. Peter had to look away, he couldn’t look at the expression on your face.

“Fine. If that’s what you want.” Your eyes never met his, but you paused before you exited the room. “I know you’re probably just… I don’t know, going through something, but you’re being an asshole. Don’t talk to me until you’ve sorted your shit out. Enjoy your solitude.” You left the room impossibly fast, your fists clenched so tightly Peter feared that your nails would break the skin on your palms. He struggled to keep it together-- why the fuck did he do that? 

Peter collapsed onto his bed, and it’s only then that he realized you left behind the gift you got him. A part of him thought he should return it to you, but the other part of him urged for it to be opened. He tore the wrapping paper off before he realized what he was doing. The hardcover book the wrapping paper concealed was handbound, the cover littered with your beautifully familiar handwriting. In big, bold letters The Best of Poetry in the Humble Opinion of Y/n L/n was scrawled at the top. 

Peter vividly remembers a late night you spent talking to him. You told him about your favorite poems, outlining each and every little detail you loved about them. Some of them he’d read already, some of them he hadn’t, but all of them sounded like artwork coming from you. He opened the front cover, and you’d written something else on the inside. 

“In the words of the wonderful Peter Maximoff, ‘What’s the point of reading if you don’t get to share the love?’. This is me, sharing the love.” 

Carefully, Peter opened to a random page in the book. He saw the notes in the margins and the doodles and the exclamation points and before he knew it Peter was on the verge of tears. He was barely containing himself, and then he read a specific annotation you made. 

He had opened to the first page of “The Worm King’s Lullaby”, one of your all-time favorites. A specific line was underlined, one that Peter was all too familiar with: “Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” Beside it, you wrote:

“As much of a genius Mr. Siken is, I have to disagree with this. If you love someone enough, you’ll never leave them and they’ll never leave you. Even if they die, even if things don’t work out, you’ll always have a little part of them to carry with you. Carry this part of me with you, Peter. Not that I plan on leaving anytime soon.” 

That was it. The floodgates broke. Everything that Peter had held back came pouring out-- the past 10 minutes finally caught up with him, and they hit him like a bus. He sat in the corner of his bedroom, his knees pulled up to his chest so tightly he thought his legs would snap. Peter wanted to rip all his hair out or punch a hole in the wall or hold his head underwater until he was nothing but an obituary and a headstone. His chest burned and the pit of despair inside his chest had overtaken his system, and he hated himself with a burning passion. Why did he do that? Why did he do that? Why the fuck did he do that?

Peter Maximoff had his breakdown in solitude, revealing in the fact that he was, undeniably, the villain of his own life.

4.

As it turns out, ‘getting his shit together’ is much harder than Peter originally anticipated. He's trying, he really is, but it's hard. Especially without you there. Peter knows that he fucked up, and he knows that he needs to work for your forgiveness. And don’t worry, he’s going to work for it. 

It had only been a week, but the entire mansion could tell that something was off. Life just wasn’t the same without the randomized gusts of wind that would knock people off their feet; no one had been seriously injured or had something stolen from them. The whirlwind that was mansion life, while still chaotic, lost it’s fun. 

Charles tried to keep things running smoothly, but he was an old man and didn’t exactly understand you and Peter. People would knock on your door every now and then, but you didn’t answer. You were much too busy analyzing exactly how much of a bitch you were being-- realistically, the answer is 0%, but you didn’t see it that way. No, from your perspective, you saw Peter having a mental breakdown and you ditched him. Pretty shitty move.

What you didn’t realize was that Peter was doing the exact same thing, however, the blame falls mostly on his shoulders, and boy does he know it. He’s been scripting his grand apology, trying desperately to find the right words to express exactly how sorry he is. Peter was never very good with words-- it’s always too hard to know if you’re going to say the wrong thing and mess everything up. Although, it’s hard to see how the scenario could get any worse.

He made the executive decision to start with “I’m sorry”-- a solid start to any apology. Sure, he could stop there, but Peter realized that he’d probably need more to win back his partner. So, he managed to scribble down a few more lines on a tiny notecard he was supposed to use for studying. Oh, what a wondrous redemption arc this would be; Peter gets into a fight with his wonderful partner and ruins their relationship and then struggles to come up with a coherent apology. 

“I’m sorry about what I said, that was shitty. I shouldn’t have said that.” Peter’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration. God, he was going to die alone, wasn’t he? Maybe this is the cruel punishment the world is dealing to him, the universe is deciding that Peter’s redemption arc would be better if it, well, didn’t exist. Even so, he isn’t planning on giving up or giving in just yet. 

He scrapped what he had so far and started at the beginning once again. His 9th grade english teacher would tell him to write about what he knows, and though he doesn’t know much, he’s an expert when it comes to himself. Peter knows how he feels about you, he knows how sorry he is, and he knows that he really, really, really wants you to know that he didn’t mean a word he said about not wanting you. Peter knows about love, at least a little bit, and he realizes he’ll need more than just words.  

His mind drifts to that night, years ago, in front of the fireplace. He vividly remembers a tiger lily and a chameleon scribbled in the margins of your book. Realistically, Peter couldn’t get his hands on a chameleon, but a tiger lily was a different story. In high school, Peter took a botany course because he thought it’d be easy. It wasn’t, it was boring as all hell, but it seems like his slacking paid off. He knew tiger lilies were indigenous to Asia, but they’d become quite common along New England-area roadways. 

Peter grabbed his jacket and took off, tearing through the roads like his life depended on it. In less than 10 minutes, Peter found himself in the middle of New Hampshire drenched in rain. In hindsight, he probably should’ve checked the weather before leaving. Nevertheless, he takes off into the small wooded area that laid passed the road’s end. Dozens of mushrooms dotted the muddy ground and mossy rocks clouded his peripheral vision. The rain begins to lighten as he spots a bright orange tiger lily peeking through the remains of a tree stump. He sprints over to it.

The tiger lily is bloomed and beautiful and Peter can’t tear his eyes away from the wide array of speckles and splotches and color. It’s pristine, but some of the petals are torn or wilting. The roots stretch into the stump below it, and Peter leans closer. The stump is old and worn, fungi and bugs eat away at the base next to a large hole where a family of worms reside. The stump is ugly, sure, but it’s useful. It helps keep the bugs fed and keeps the worms warm. There’s a metaphor here somewhere, but Peter is too distracted to find it. 

He gently picks the flower and spins on his heel, taking off once again. The rain makes it harder to run, but it’ll take a lot more than water to stop Peter. By the time Peter gets back to Xavier’s the flower is a little crushed, but it’s still somewhat pristine. 

He has the flower, he has the apology, and now all he needs is courage. Thankfully, that courage comes quickly as he instinctively knocks on your bedroom door. He probably should’ve stopped to collect himself, but he was riding a wave of adrenaline that wouldn’t come back. 

“Go away, Jean,” You called from inside. You sounded tired, and it made Peter sad. 

“It’s-- uh-- it’s not Jean,” Peter can hear your hesitant footsteps approaching the door, and suddenly the courage he managed to build up drained. His hands are shaking by the time you open the door. You look up at him, and Peter looks back at you, and suddenly everything is much harder to do. He looks down at his feet. 

“Hi.” Your voice is hoarse, but clear. 

“Hi.” Peter’s voice is uneven and quiet. You stand there in silence for a minute before Peter pipes up again.

“So, uh, you’re probably still mad at me and I get that, but I just want you to hear me out. I-If that’s okay,” You nod slowly, and Peter takes a deep breath. He thinks about the written apology that sat in his coat pocket, and he makes the last-minute decision to forget about it. He’ll speak from the heart, or, whatever people in rom-coms do. 

“I’m sorry. It was really shitty of me to get angry at you because you were worried about me-- although, I guess shitty is an understatement. Everything that I said about, yknow, not wanting you or Charles or anyone else around anymore wasn’t true. I need you guys, and I love you guys and it was unfair of me to push you away. Solitude really sucks. I guess I’m just not very good at navigating relationships,” He exhales, and his chest shudders. “I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore, I just thought I should make it clear how I feel.” It’s only then that he remembers about the tiger lily in his hand. “Oh, and this is for you.”

“A tiger lily?” you smiled softly. “These are my favorite-- how did you know?”

“I’m just observant, I guess. You usually draw them when you’re bored, I figured you’d like to see one in person,” You gently took the tiger lily in your hand. The silence that hung in the air was deafening, and Peter realized that was probably a bad sign. His chest drops just a bit, and he takes a small step backwards.

“I guess I should probably leave you alone--” Peter can’t get very far, because you immediately jump forward and wrap your arms around him. Eyes wide and heart pounding, you can feel Peter’s arms lock around your waist. 

“Thank you,” You whispered. “Please don’t go.” Peter was smiling so hard his cheeks ached, and a horrible weight had been lifted off his shoulders. The close-contact was refreshing; he didn’t realize how much he missed it until that moment. He was pretty sure he would never, ever let you go. Not again.

5.

To Peter Maximoff, physical affection has always been a touchy subject-- that is, until you came along. You proved to him that he deserved physical affection, that his mutation and his personality and weirdo quirks didn’t make him lesser or unlovable. Peter Maximoff deserved love, and you were the one who never failed to love him. 

You sat on a wooden chair in front of the fireplace, reading to the group of children sitting at your feet. The emotional lines of “Snow and Dirty Rain” fell from your lips, and with every turning syllable the small group would listen just a little bit closer. Peter did, too, desperately trying to hear every single word you said. Class was almost over, and once the students were dismissed you’d probably stop reading.

“I made this place for you. A place for you to love me. If this isn't a kingdom then I don't know what is,” Your eyes tore away from the page to look at the kids at your feet. They fell upon Peter, and a smile erupted on your face. 

Peter vaguely recalls the twisted idea of love that he held as a teenager. He thought love was a dragon to be defeated, a battle that could be won or lost. It’s clear now that love is the opposite-- it isn’t a fight or a battle or a thing to be conquered. It’s more like a flower; it needs to be cherished and cared for in order to grow. Sometimes the flower wilts and dies, and that’s natural, but sometimes the flower lasts for a lifetime. 

Love wasn’t a dragon or a knight, it didn’t have a hero or a villain; it was much more like a tiger lily and a tree stump.

[buckys-black-dress]

stargazing (bucky barnes x fem!reader)

a/n: so this idea totally just came to me because this trope is honestly so cute and i love these and i need to get this out of my system. i listened to stargazing by the neighborhood while writing this and i LOVE this song, so i’d recommend listening while reading! (just listen to the whole album).

also-- happy new year! 2020 quite literally fucked us up but im so grateful this year was the one where i decided to come on here and share my work with yall. i love every single one of my readers, so THANK YOU! anyways, without further ado...

enjoy my dearies!!! -ali

wc: 2.8k

- 

When you first became best friends with Rebecca Barnes in preschool, the last place you’d expected to end up was with a massive crush on her older brother.

James, or Bucky, as he likes to be called my his close friends, was basically the perfect guy for you. He was kind, witty, and didn’t treat you like a child. (Anymore). 

Now that you had graduated high school and were in you first year of college, Bucky was in his second year. And things were getting rough. 

You were a Cognitive Psychology major, and your main interest was in becoming an occupational therapist. You were attending Columbia University. 

And of course, so was Bucky, studying English Literature. Rebecca was studying at FIT, her main interest being in fashion design. All three of you couldn’t bear to leave New York City, so you all decided to stay nearby. 

Since all three of you were in the same area, more or less, you three remained close and tight-knit. Since you were still a freshman, you decided to dorm on campus, while Rebecca and Bucky did the same. Bucky was in a fraternity, so he had a place in the house, and you often found yourself hanging out in his room, having been introduced to most of his brothers.

Like today, it was Thursday night, and your classes were cancelled for tomorrow. You were in no rush to get back to your room, and your roommate was also out at her boyfriend’s. Rebecca thought you were finishing up an essay, though. 

“Y/N, you’re crashing here tonight?” Bucky’s voice caused his chest to rumble under your place on it. 

“Yeah, is that alright?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Of course, Y/N/N.” He smiled back down at you, trying to ignore the fluttering in his chest at your doe eyes. 

She’s your sister’s best friend. Becca would hate you.

“I’m gonna wash up before I fall asleep, Buck.” You said with a yawn, lifting yourself off of Bucky’s warm, comfortable bed. 

Bucky watched your form disappear out of his room to the bathroom next door, his chest deflating with a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. 

I’m so fucked.

-

Making your short walk to the bathroom, your mind was filled with thoughts, and you really didn’t know what to do in this current situation. 

You and Becca had been best friends since you were both in preschool.

And now you were pretty certain that you had the biggest crush known to humankind on her older brother. 

Staring at your reflection in the mirror as you pat your face dry, you wondered what would happen if this went further. 

What would happen if you told Bucky that you liked him?

What would Becca do if she knew you liked her brother?

Shaking your head at yourself, you knew you couldn’t do that to Becca. She’s been there for you through everything that’s happened to you. To just turn around and tell her that you’ve fallen for her brother- you don’t know if that would be the right thing to do.

But how could you just outwardly deny your feelings for Bucky?

A knock on the bathroom door drew you out of your thoughts, letting whoever was knocking know that they could come in. 

“Hey, Y/N, how ya been?” It was one of Bucky’s closest friends whom you also knew growing up, Steve Rogers. 

“Hey Steve, I’m good. How ‘bout you?” You asked, getting ready to head back to Bucky’s room. 

“Good, good, y’know, Peg’s keepin’ me on my toes.” He flashed you a smile, a blush creeping up on his face at the mention of his girlfriend. 

“Aw, Stevie’s in loooove,” You sing-songed, pinching his cheek.

“Well, I think I could say the same for you, Y/N/N.” Steve scoffed back in retort, but your breath hitched at the words.

“Shut up, Steve...” You mumbled, twiddling your fingers. 

“Y/N, I’m serious... You and Buck ‘ve been spending a lot of time together and I can tell. He’s my best friend, and I know when my best friend is taken for someone. Trust me, Y/N, your feelings aren’t one-sided.” And with that, he steps into the bathroom, leaving you reeling at his words.

Lost in your thought again, you walked back to Bucky’s room. You tucked yourself under his warm duvet, as you fell into a deep slumber with his arm wrapped around your waist, thinking about the weight of it around you as you fell asleep.

- 

The next morning was... quiet... to say the least. After your encounter with Steve in the bathroom, you really didn’t know how to feel about your feelings towards Bucky. He felt the tenseness that was rolling off of you in waves, making him wonder if he did something to make you upset. 

Bucky wondered if he was doing too much, wondering if he had caused you to be uncomfortable with him for some reason.

So naturally, he pulled back.

As the days went on and got colder, you found yourself spending more time in your dorm, or places that weren’t associated with Bucky in your mind. 

And it was safe to say the both of you were losing it.

Bucky was slowly losing his composure, where he would participate the most in his seminar classes, he was quiet and folded in on himself, losing his confidence. 

Where you were the most outspoken on certain topics in your classes, you became a bit of a hermit. 

And almost everyone noticed.

Most notably, Becca and Steve.

When you returned from class at the end of a long week without Bucky, you invited Becca over to have take out in your room.

“So, how’s your week been?” She asks, reaching into your takeout box and grabbing a piece of garlic honey chicken.

Rolling your eyes, you say “Fine, same old. You? How’d that design project go?” 

“It was awesome! My professor really loved my piece, she said it was one of the ‘most original takes’ on this project she’s seen!” Becca was ecstatic and you were so proud of her.

“That’s so awesome, Bec! One day you’re gonna have to make me something that I can wear, and when someone asks me where I got it, I’ll just say, ‘oh, sorry my best friend made it, you’ll have to wait ‘til it hits the runways to buy it.’” You laugh, pointing your chopsticks at her.

“Y/N, stop, you flatterer.” She smirked, looking back down at her food. “Hey, I’ve also been meaning to ask... have you noticed Bucky acting weird as of late, or anything? Is it just me or is he like... way more quiet than usual?” Becca asked inquisitively. 

“Oh- uh, I actually have no idea. I haven’t really seen him that much this week. Just around campus here and there.” You shrug your shoulders, the pit in your stomach nagging at you.

“Really? You guys usually hang out more often...” She responds, and your face burns in embarrassment. 

“Wh- How do you know how often your brother and I hang out?” Your voice didn’t even feel like your own as you spoke, quickly occupying it with food.

“Well, he does live with Steve... Apparently you’re around there pretty often.” Rebecca eyes you, seeing your body language and how uncomfortable you seem. “Y/N... If you like my brother, that’s okay. I think you guys would be cute together. And I can tell you like him, so don’t try to deny it.” Becca smiles, reaching to rest a hand on yours in comfort. 

“Wh- You don’t care?” You ask in confusion, expecting a bit of a more dramatic reaction. 

“Of course I care, I care about my two favorite people being happy. And if they’re happy together, then that’s even better!” She explains, and your head spins.

“I- I’m telling you this in confidence, Becca. You can’t tell anyone, not Steve, not Peggy, and absolutely not Bucky...” She nods, moving closer to you. “I...I do like Bucky. A lot. But I don’t think he likes me that way. I mean, just look at his exes. I’m not like Natasha, or those gorgeous girls. And what if he just sees me as his friend. Like a little sister?” You finish, your hands flailing around and out of breath. 

“Y/N... I know my brother, but I can’t read his mind. If I had to take a wild guess... I’d say he likes you too. Based on what Steve tells me, based on how Bucky acts when you come up in conversation... his eyes light up, dude. I think you need to talk to him, face to face.” Rebecca explains, giving her best advice. “You both deserve to be happy, and I think you could both give that to each other.” She softly smiles. 

“Thanks, Becca. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You laugh, pulling her into a tight hug. “I’ll talk to him.”

- 

In the frat house across the campus, Steve and Bucky were sitting in the living room amongst some of their other brothers. 

“Buck, what’s been up with you this week?” Tony, a senior and president of the frat asks from the kitchen.

“Hm?” Bucky looks up, confused at the question.

“You’ve been... off all week long.” Sam chimes in from next to him on the couch, eyes leaving the football match on the TV.

“I’m fine, why?” Bucky deflects, taking a sip of his drink in hand.

“Whatever you say, but I have a feeling this has to do with Y/N... haven’t seen her around here at all this week.” Tony points out, plopping down on a futon. 

Steve’s eyes widened, looking down at his phone that he’s been on all night.

Little did Bucky know, Rebecca was feeding him information about you to him directly, trying to make sense of his friend’s odd behavior this week.

His eyes shot to Bucky’s, trying to gauge his reaction to Tony’s mention of you.

“Yeah, she’s been.... busy, I guess. Haven’t really talked to her.” Bucky says nonchalantly. 

“Why not? You two are basically attached at the hip... like, Friday nights are usually your thing together. I thought you’d man up and ask her out already.” Sam’s response caused a stillness in the room, everyone looking at Bucky for his next move. 

But it was quiet. 

“She’s... she’s my sister’s best friend... I don’t think Becca would appreciate me taking her best friend out to dinner.” Bucky said in a low voice, clearing his throat. 

“Have you asked her how she feels about it?” Thor asks from his spot on the other couch. “Maybe she’s fine with it, she doesn’t seem to be too stuck up...” He suggests.

“My sister isn’t stuck up, man. Watch it.” He responds defensively. 

“I wasn’t saying that! But you should talk to her about it, that’s all I’m saying!” Thor fights back. 

“I just- I don’t know, last week when Y/N was here, she went to the bathroom to wash up at night, and when she came back she was acting totally different. She’s usually comfortable around me, but she was acting like... like she was uncomfortable around me. I thought I did something to make her feel that way, so I kinda backed off this week.” Bucky explains, trying to understand what went wrong.

“Well, did she say anything? Did she try to reach out this week?” Tony asks. 

“I mean, she texted me a few times, but it was casual conversation. I can’t tell how she’s feeling. I like her, but I don’t want to make things weird for her and Becca, or Becca and I.” 

And this is where Steve chimes in. 

“I mean, come on Buck, it’s obvious she likes you too. I think you need to talk to her, because Becca wants you two to be happy. I don’t think she’d care that much, y’know?”

“But what if I make things awkward? Like, what if I read the signals wrong this whole time, and she doesn’t even really like me?” Bucky was now going into a deep spiral, and Steve needed to pull him out, fast. 

“Buck, I don’t think so. You should talk to her, face to face.” Steve encouraged.

“You think so?” Bucky wasn’t so convinced.

“Yes!” A chorus of voices echoed in the house, causing Bucky to jump to his feet, ready to confront this head-on.

“Okay, yeah, yes, I’m gonna tell her how I feel. I got this, I’ll be fine-” But his pumping-up session was cut short from the doorbell ringing through the house.

Steve got up, “I got it.” He simply said, smirking mischievously as he turned to face the door and twisted the knob.

And of course, it was none other than you.

“Hey Buck? I think it’s for you!” Steve yells from the doorway, stepping out of the way and directing everyone in the living room to hide out of sight. Of course, they were all still eavesdropping and lurking about.

“Doll, what’re ya doin’ here?” Bucky was beyond confused, you timing was impeccable. 

“I-I have some things I wanna talk about. I just, I think we need to talk.” You say, looking up at him.

“Y-Yeah, come inside, it’s freezing out. What’s up, doll?” He asks, pulling you into the house and into the living room, sitting down next to you on a couch, making sure to face you. 

“Everything’s alright... but I need to get this off my chest before I go crazy-” You stop yourself from rambling further. “I was having dinner with Becca earlier, and we... talked... about some things. And apparently, someone was telling her about all the time we spend together.” Bucky was listening, but cursing Steve in his head, knowing he was behind it. 

“And I know last week I was acting weird, but I promise, it wasn’t because of something you did. Well, it kinda was, b-but not something bad, y’know?” You explain, trying to get Bucky to understand how you feel.

“Whaddaya mean, doll? If I did something, tell me, because I would never want to hurt you-” He started, trying to pinpoint his actions. 

“You made me like you! There, you happy?” You exclaim, hands covering your cherry red face. “I said it! I like you. And I totally understand if you don’t feel the same way, I’m just your little sister’s annoying friend, I get it-” 

But instead of the feeling of rejection, you were met with Bucky’s lips on yours, his hands cupping your cheeks.

Bucky was kissing you.

Bucky was kissing you!

Holy fuck!

What. The. Fuck. 

But before you could overthink anything, you heard loud whoops and cheers coming from all around you.

“What the hell? Steve?” You asked, looking around, trying to process the last minute.

“Finally! Took ya two idiots long enough! God, Becca and I didn’t know how much longer we’d have to be your freakin’ puppet masters.” He laughed from his spot in the kitchen. 

“Come on doll, let’s go upstairs to talk, where we could have some privacy...” Bucky said pointedly, looking at his brothers as they kept cheering as you two made your way up the stairs. 

- 

Once the door closed behind you two, you were quite literally speechless.

“You kissed me.” You pointed out the obvious, since your mind was still reeling.

“I did.” Bucky simply answers.

“...Why?” You ask, like an idiot. 

“Because, for the past three years I’ve had the biggest crush known to man on you... and I knew if I didn’t kiss you then, I never would. Kind of a life or death situation here, doll.” He jokes trying to gauge your mood.

“Bucky...” You sighed, walking closer to him, holding his face, “you can kiss me whenever you want.” And punctuated your sentence with a kiss. 

“Well... then... can I call you my girlfriend?” He asks, looking into your twinkling eyes. Bucky’s large hands cover your waist, pulling you closer against him.

“Yeah... I think you can.” You answer, the sparkle never leaving your eyes.

“Hmmm... finally.” Bucky hums, closing the gap between your lips over and over again. 

Your loud giggle fills the room as Bucky peppers kisses all over your face, trying to make up for lost time. 

“Hey, make sure to use protection, kids!” someone’s voice comes from down the hall from’s Bucky’s room.

“Shut up, Sam!” You both yell in unison, resuming your previous activities.

And in this moment, there’s nowhere else either of you would rather be. 

[jbbarnesandnoble]

Hungry Eyes: One-Shot

Pairing: Modern!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: a night out with your friends leads to you singing karaoke in front of an entire bar. you might be singing in front of them, but everyone knows who you're singing to.

Warning(s): fluff, drinking, bar setting, cringy dialogue (i did not hold back on this one yall) happy ending, my bad writing, and this was only edited once (by me, i can tell you in full confidence that my editing skills suck)

Word Count: 3,059

Prompt: Hungry Eyes by Erik Carmen

A/N: this has been sitting in my drafts since june i believe, and i have wanted to post it so badly! so naturally when i try to post it (after MONTHS of not postint) tumblr stops working and messes my whole plan up... im sorry my friends, but second times the charm (that's how the saying goes, right??)

(not my gif)

It is 9:38pm on a Saturday night, Dirty Dancing plays on your TV in the background while you get ahead on some work. It is your fifth time watching it this week, but you can’t not watch it, it is your favorite movie after-all. On the coffee table next to you, your phone vibrates. Picking it up, you greet your friend on the phone.

“What up babe, I hope you’re wearing somethin’ sexy ‘cause we’re going out tonight!” Natasha announces into her phone. You sigh, knowing there is no way for you to escape going out tonight, not after bailing on her the last four times.

Which is how you find yourself here, at O’Malley’s Bar and Karaoke. Sitting at a center table in the dimly lit bar while an intoxicated man belts out a Fleetwood Mac song. You choose a seat at the mostly empty table. Nat, who is talking with her younger sister, Yelena. Sits on your right and Sam -your other best friend- sits on your left.

“Y/n, haven’t seen you 'round here in awhile. How’s it hanging?” Yelena asks, shifting in her chair, she tries to hear over the sound of the man's bad and loud singing. If you can even call it singing.

“She's been avoiding us,” Nat says, pushing all your buttons perfectly. You do your best to ignore her antics. The wood chair scraps against the hardwood floor as you pull it out and sit between your two best friends. You answer Yelena’s question with a generic answer, ignoring her sister - and her comments - who doesn't seem to care.

“What’s up, kid. It’s been a while since you last came out with us. Nat finally blackmailed you to come with?” Sam jokes with you. You turn to face him, as he sips his water. Ice clinks around in his glass from the quick movement.

“Drinking water tonight?” You ask, more out of intrigue than anything else, though it is a good way to turn away from the current topic. Since you don’t feel like explaining your reason for not hanging out with your friend group much anymore.

It isn’t like you don’t want to go out with them, you do. But you aren’t all that fond of being around Bucky and his girlfriend Dot. You have had a huge crush on Bucky since college and have been best friends for even longer. You thought that over time that small childish crush would go away, but much to your dismay, it did not. In fact, it grew and it never stopped growing. So now, here you are, years later, in love with your best friend who you can’t have because he’s in love with someone else.

That explanation is a great way to kill everyone’s fun. Which is why you haven’t told anyone why you don’t want to hang out anymore. It’s too hard to see them together. You pushed past the pain for almost an entire year, but you aren’t sure that you can do it anymore.

“Somebody has to keep an eye on these kids,” Sam explains, acting as a true mature adult. “Also I drove,” he adds, quieter than the first part, he hides behind his drink.

“There it is.” You say, to which he responds by pretending to be hurt that you didn’t believe he would be the mature one by choice.

A waitress comes around moments later asking you what you would like to drink and eat. A smile on her face the entire time, one you recognize as a customer service smile. Completely fake, but real enough that the customers are none the wiser. You thank her, asking for only a glass of water.

“Forget whatever she asked for, she would like a beer.” Natasha interrupts the young waitress as she is about to leave the table.

“Natasha!” You shout at her, she shrugs in response taking a swig of her own beer.

“I agreed to come out with you, but I didn’t agree to drink.” You point out and it’s true. You don’t feel like drinking tonight and you have to drive yourself home so you really shouldn't be drinking.

“You agreed to drink when you said you would come out with us, plus Sam’s driving.” The redhead tries to argue as she leans back in her chair.

“Yeah, he’s driving you, unlike some people I drove myself.” She shrugs, becoming uninterested in the conversation. She goes back to talking to Yelena.

The same waitress from before comes back, water in one hand and a beer in the other. She sets them both down in front of you, a smile on her lips the entire time. Her long black hair sways back and forth as she moves around the table. She checks in on the rest of your friends who had just arrived.

“Y/n!” Clint and Tony yell in unison. While Steve greets you more calmly than the others as he claims a seat across from you. You offer a kind smile in return. Your eyes scan over the group that had sat down at your now full table and you notice two faces missing from your group.

“Are Bucky and Dot coming out tonight?” You ask no one in particular. Everyone shares glances and avoids looking in your eyes.

“It’s been so long since you’ve been out with us, we all forgot you didn’t know.” Tony said, eyebrows drawn together and a sympathetic smile on his lips.

“Know what?” you ask, letting your intrigue get the best of you. Sam is the first of your friends to speak up, seeing as he is one of your closest friends the duty fell to him.

“Buck hasn’t been out with us for a while, kid. Once you stopped hanging out with us we started to see less and less of him. Now he rarely hangs out with us.”

Your eyes scan around the table, no one is looking directly at you except for Sam and Nat. You shrug, not seeing the huge deal about the whole thing. It’s his choice not to come out, just like it is your own.

“He’s been distant with us.” Tony adds, hiding behind his drink

“His loss.” You state causally, though deep down you are a bit disappointed. It has been a while since you last saw him, it would be nice to know he is doing well.

-------

Two beers and most of the bar’s nachos later, you’re having a better time than you expected to. You forgot how much fun being around your friends is. You wish you hadn’t been such a child about the whole Bucky thing. You could have been having so much fun had you simply ignored your own feelings instead of dwelling on them.

A group of young girls is on the stage, singing along to some new pop song you have not heard before. They are not the best singers, but you can tell they don’t care. They are having fun and enjoying themselves that is all that matters. The song ends and the crowd, filled mostly with drunk people, clap and cheer as they exit the stage.

Someone’s hand pulls three times on the sleeve of your shirt. Grabbing your attention from the drunk guy who stumbled onto the stage. His friends cheer loudly as he gets ready to sing and someone from the crowd yells happy birthday. Across the bar, you find a table full of young guys and girls. Balloons and streamers decorate the booth. A banner hangs above it, written in bold blue marker reads, ‘Happy Birthday Tom'.

“Y/n, you know what you should do?” Yelena starts and you can tell the alcohol is starting to kick in the tiniest bit. Though she seems to be better at holding her liquor better than some of your other friends. “You should go up there.”

“No, no way. There is no way I’m going up there.” You argue, holding your hands up as if trying to physically stop her idea.

“Come on, it would be so much fun! Plus, if you do it Clint will pay you twenty bucks.” The blond bargains with you, both of your eyes look to where Clint is happily unaware of her idea. A smile spreads across your face.

“Fine, but I’m gonna need one more of these and you’re buying,” you say, waving your empty beer bottle back and forth.

You take your time finishing your beer, your nerves grow larger with each sip. Soon enough, Yelena caught onto what you were doing and yelled at you to drink faster. Well, you think that’s what she was doing. With her switching between Russian and English it was hard to tell what exactly she was trying to say. And Natasha’s so-called “help” did nothing, seeing as she was also speaking in Russian.

“You’re up next,” Sam announces which earns cheers from all your friends. Settling back in his chair, he pats your shoulder offering an encouraging smile. The next four minutes go faster than any other song before. The girl on stage announces your name and you reluctantly walk onto the stage. Your friends cheer you on, which helps ease your nerves. Also, the fact that most of the bar is drunk, the chances of anyone remembering this is not very high.

“Hey Sam, why didn’t you tell her they broke up?” Steve asks from across the table, which gains the rest of the group's attention. Except for Clint who never knows what’s going on. Which usually has to do with the fact that his hearing aids are off about half of the time.

“That’s his job, not mine. I’m not his babysitter.” Sam says curtly.

“He can tell her when he gets here,” Tony tells everyone in the most nonchalant way possible. All eyes are on him, confused by what he means. “I texted him, told him she finally stopped avoiding us," he pauses to correct himself, "Him, and came out for the night.”

“You drunk genius!” Clint shouts

“You’re drunk too, you idiot,” Yelena yells at him. He promptly turns his haring airds back off and mumbles something about being the soberest one there in response to her statement.

“Shut up all of you, she’s singing,” Nat yells at them.

An upbeat melody begins playing over the speakers. A small screen in front of you flashes the lyrics of the song you picked on it. Another second passes and it’s time for you to start singing. You start off quiet, not quite believing in yourself yet.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you,

I've got this feelin' that won't subside

I look at you and I fantasize

You’re mind and tonight.”

Your friends, after being quiet for a while, start cheering you on again. Their support gives you the confidence you need. From in the crowd, Sam yells, “That’s my best friend, y’all, stay jealous.” which causes you to laugh, you collect yourself and keep on singing.

“Now I’ve got you in my sights,

with these, hungry eyes

one look at you and I can’t disguise”

The song continues on and suddenly you feel like Jennifer Grey in Dirty Dancing. Feeling more confident you attempt to do some of the dance moves that you can remember from the movie. You aren’t the best dancer, but you don’t care all that much, you’re having a lot more fun than you thought you would. In fact, you’re almost happy Yelena encouraged you to go on stage.

“I want to hold you so hear me out,

I want to show you what love’s all about

darling tonight.”

The next set of lyrics pop on the screen, not that you need them, you know this song by heart. It’s then the front door swings open and your eyes find a set of steel-blue ones, your heart skips a beat or two, or maybe three. You stutter over the words once or twice before you collect yourself enough to sing the next words.

“I’ve got hungry eyes

I feel the magic between you and I

With these hungry eyes

Now I’ve got you in my sights.”

Lyrics that meant nothing before, now mean a little too much to you. All thanks to Bucky, who had to enter the bar while you were on stage. With your heart pounding a little harder thanks to him, you keep on singing and the crowd keeps cheering. You watch as he chooses to stand a few feet behind your group rather than join them.

“I need you to see

this love was meant to be.”

Your dancing has slowed to a slow sway back and forth, your eyes never leaving Buckys. The music is quieter than before and all you can see is him. You try your best to look away, but it’s too hard when he’s staring at you like that. With his soft and gentle smile and his hair that is so fluffy all you can think about is running your hands through it. At this point, you’re well aware that you are singing to him. What you don't notice is that your friends - and everyone else in the bar - are also well aware of what is happening, and who you are really singing to.

“I feel the magic between you and I.”

“Now I’ve got you in my sights

With my hungry eyes.”

Just like that, as quickly as the song began it ended. The bar fills with applause as you leave the stage. Making a b-line to your friends who are all standing when you reach them, ready to pull you into a hug.

“Dude, that was amazing. I was even considering giving you twenty bucks myself… But I won’t, I’ll let Clint do that.” Yelena says, patting you on the back and leaning her arm on your shoulder.

“I didn’t know you could sing like that.” Steve complements, in his usual awkward manner. You thank him as he pulls you into a small hug.

“Get out of the way losers,” Sam yells from the back of the group, which makes you laugh, “You got some pipes on you, kid. I’m a bit hurt that you never told me, your best friend, that you can sing. But I��ll forgive you this time. All it'll cost you is a pizza.” he says with a wink so you know he’s only kidding, not that he needed to do that. He is your best friend, after all, you know him better than Steve and Bucky do.

Sam pulls you into a huge hug when your eyes meet Bucky’s who is standing behind the group. You turn your eyes away when you go to hug Nat next, “You should probably talk to him.” she whispers into your ear before letting you go and yelling, “Next rounds on me!” Which is the perfect chance to escape. “Waters all around!” You hear her add while walking away, boos erupt from all of your friends and a smile pulls at your lips.

“Hey, wanna get some air?” Bucky asks when you’re close enough to hear him, you nod without hesitating.

It is a bit colder outside from when you first left your apartment, a cold, Autumn breeze blows through your thin blouse. You regret not grabbing your jacket before leaving the bar. In an attempt to gain some warmth, you wrap your arms around yourself.

“Dot and I broke up,” Bucky blurts out, the sudden confession causes you to stop in your tracks. He does too, choosing to stand next to you. “I feel like an idiot about the whole thing if I’m being honest. She said that she couldn’t date me while I am in love with someone else. It took me too long to realize who she meant, when I did, everything else began to make sense in my life again.”

“So, who is it?” you ask, somehow convincing yourself that it can’t be you.

"And I thought I was an idiot." he states, a smug, joking smile on his lips.

Before you have the chance to ask him what he means. His lips crashs into yours and his hand cup your face. The kiss is slow and sweet and everything you ever imagined it would be plus more. It’s the kind that sweeps you off of your feet and steals your breath, and leaves you feeling a little dizzy afterwards. It’s the kind of kiss at the end of a rom-com when the guy finally gets the girl.

“I feel it too,” he says through soft pants, his forehead resting against your own. You hum, silently asking him what he means. “The magic between you and I, I finally feel it. Although it’s about five years overdue.” His words, as cheesy as they might be, are perfect and romantic in every way possible. Your arms wrap around his waist, pulling him closer so that your noses are almost touching.

You’re about to say something when your stomach speaks first, doing it’s best to be as loud as possible. There is a moment of silence between you before you both start laughing. Bucky’s hands fall from your face and down to your shoulders to pull you into his chest. You stand there laughing with your face buried in his chest.

“Let’s go find you some food, yeah?” he asks you, fingers running through your hair. You nod into him, more than happy to find something to eat.

“You never answered my question from before.” You say and you begin to walk to find food, your arm looped around his waist, his around your shoulders. It takes him a moment to realize what you’re talking about when he does he says,

“This girl from work, I've been in love with her since I first saw her.” He teases with a playful smirk on his lips.

“You are really mean, you know that?” You complain, faking a pout. A laugh bubbles in his throat before he plants a kiss onto your head.

“Yeah, but you still like me.” he points out before stopping to shrug off his jean jacket, after he notes the goosebumps littering your skin.

“Can’t have you catchin’ a cold on our first date.” You smile up at him as you walk to the closest pizza shop that is down the street.

[wienerbarnes]

Breathe Deeper

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 2,324

Prompt: “Why is it always murder and mayhem with you? Don’t you ever just do normal person things? Eat a sandwich? Brush your teeth? Do you even brush your teeth?” (from a random prompt generator)

Warnings: murder, violence, staging a suicide, ~feelings~

A/N: cafe bustelo does wonders for you at 1 am anyway ive been trying to finish this for like two months. have a couple more ideas for these two but feel free to send me any ideas or requests and ill do em if the inspo strikes! also title is purely the song im listening to as i type this out and has no correlation to the story LOL but hey if yall like tame impala enjoy

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

A single pop is heard as a bullet flies out of your gun into the head of the old man who opened the door.

“Christ! No build up?! No tension?! No confirmation that it’s even him?!” Bucky yells as he wiggles his ear to rid the ringing from it.

You brush past Bucky and slide the gun back into the holster strapped to your thigh. You step over behind whatever his name was, Bucky’s having trouble remembering after that blow to his eardrum, and hook your hands under his arms in order to  drag him back into the empty house.

“Why is it always murder and mayhem with you? Don’t you ever just do normal person things? Eat a sandwich? Brush your teeth? Do you even brush your teeth?” Bucky questions you as he closes the door behind him, stepping in between splatters of blood.

“Nope, gotta leave leftovers for the bugs that live in my mouth.”

“That’s gross.”

“Shut up, help me lug this guy to the bedroom.”

The two of you are in a small town in Northern Oklahoma on the property of one of your ex-Hydra handlers. After a few days of researching, the two of you were able to figure out where he moved to and what he changed his name to after retiring from his prior lifestyle.

“I knew it was him from the second I saw him. You never forget.” You explain to him, both of you positioning his body in the corner of the room.

“You go clean up the entryway, I’ll finish staging over here.” Bucky offers it to you. He takes out his own gun from his own waistband and fires a single shot through the same hole you put in between the guy’s eyes. The splatter that explodes on the walls behind him are perfect, artistic almost. Bucky then starts looking around the room; in the closet, under the bed, until he reaches the night stand where a pretty little pistol lays. Not the same gun as his, but he has a feeling the police system in such a small and unpopulated town won’t bother to investigate this death as a murder as opposed to the obvious suicide that took place.

Bucky notices the small skull and octopus stamped into the side of the gun as he places it in his hands. He rolls his eyes before making his way back over to the entryway where you’re sat on the ground, scrubbing away with a rag in your hands and a bottle of bleach next to you. 

Bucky walks over and takes a seat on the loveseat positioned a few feet away from where you are.

“So, where we heading after this?” Bucky asks you, leaning forward and resting his elbow on the arm of the seat.

“Back to New York? You probably gonna be busy working on that murder case.” You glance at him confused before going back to scrubbing.

Bucky pauses before speaking again, “How do you know about that?”

“I… keep up with my fair share of news.”

“You don’t pay for newspapers nor do you have a TV or a phone; you don’t have news. Besides, we haven’t released any information to the public about anything before we get more leads. So, how do you know about that?” Bucky stares at you, eyebrows pinched a bit in the middle as he awaits your answer.

“Do you wanna stop and get some pie on the way back?”

“No. Did you see something about the murders?” Bucky ignores your attempt at changing the subject.

“You just said you haven’t released anything-”

“I don’t mean on the news, I mean in that empty head of yours.” He teases.

You sigh, “I hate when you ask me about my… head.”

“Well, you could be helping here! You can try and be good!”

“I’m sitting on the floor scrubbing an old guy’s blood out of the wood of his own house after I’ve just blown his brains out.”

“Yeah, a bad old guy!”

You get off the last of the specks of blood before standing up and screwing the cap back onto the bottle of bleach. “I didn’t even see anything about the killer, anyway.”

“So, what did you see?”

“You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

“Fetch me a bone here, doll.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’d like that, dog.”

He grabs the bleach and rag from your fingers to free up your hands from carrying anything. Tingles travel up the tips of your fingers and flow up through your wrist into your chest. You glance up and make eye contact with Bucky and the dramatic puppy eyes and pouty lips he’s throwing your way. 

You stare for a few more seconds before looking away, “Check that huge pond in Central Park tomorrow. His next victim will be floating there.” You satisfy him before turning and making your way back outside and to the car the two of you took on your little road trip.

While walking back to the parked car, Bucky quickly rushes in front of you and grasps the handle before you can reach it, allowing you to get in the car while he holds it open for you. He throws you an innocent looking smile, a smile coming from a person who surely didn’t just stage a suicide. You bite back your own smile before taking a seat and letting Bucky close the door behind you.

…

When you open your eyes after your nap, it's dark outside the moving car. You slowly lift your head up off the car window and glance over at Bucky, who you now realize is on the phone with someone.

“I told you, it was a weird anonymous number, Sam. I don’t know where it came from.” Bucky speaks softly on the phone before turning his head to look at you in your sleepy state.

“All they said was to check the pond in Central Park tomorrow. I know it’s sketchy, but we don’t have any other leads anyway, we might as well try it.”

“We sounds like a lot of people, ain’t you say that to me one time? Not all of us are on vacation, you know.” You hear another deep voice through the tiny speaker of the phone against Bucky’s ear.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’ll be back the day after tomorrow, man.”

Bucky wraps up his conversation as you process what you’ve heard. Bucky has lied, again, to the government, to Captain America, in order to protect you and your existence.

“How’d you sleep?” He asks before your thoughts can get too far from you.

“Fine. We’re already heading back to New York?” 

“We’re stopping at a motel for the night, but after tomorrow’s drive, we’ll get there by sundown.”

You sit up proper and stretch your legs as far out in front of you as you can, the bones crunching and popping in relief at the new position. Bucky cringes next to you. He glances at you and watches you pick at the crust gathered at the corners of your eyes, a yawn escaping you along with the last of your grogginess.

Bucky doesn’t know how he’d fully express it to you, but he’s so happy to see the person you’re growing into. Everyday a little bit more of your personality, your mannerisms, your weirdness, your humor, your ideas; everything about the real you, shows more and more. He sees this beautiful woman who, maybe a year and some ago, was walking the line of death and now sits beside him with neon green nail polish and mismatched socks and cute flower earrings adorning the curve of your ear. He stares at the tattoo on your neck, that angry red face with large eyebrows and wonders whether or not that was your idea or not. He wonders if you have any other tattoos hidden among the space of your skin, he doesn’t remember seeing any along your sides or stomach that nightmare of a night in his apartment-

“You’re swervin’.” 

Bucky clears his throat and snaps his head forward, fixing the car to drive straight on the road. Soon, he sees the promising sign, “Motel in 10 Miles,” and the two of you park in the small lot of the light orange building.

The inside smells of old people, an aged scent that isn’t necessarily bad, but makes you scrunch your nose nonetheless. No bugs in clear sight and the roof is still intact, so it should be suitable for a night of rest.

“We only have rooms available on the first floor for tonight, I’m assuming you’ll want one bed?”

Bucky's throat goes dry for a second, “Yes, that’s fine.” He doesn’t want to consult you as you look far off out the front window of the lobby, back turned to the young woman at the front desk. No matter how small a town in whatever state there is at this point in their journey, there is no risking anyone recognizing you, even if your search mission has been deemed unsolved.

A plastic card is slid into Bucky’s right hand and he begins making his way back outside and down the walkway towards their room for the night. You follow him silently.

“I call showering first, I think there’s small clumps of blood still stuck in my hair.” You tell him, flinging your backpack onto the bed, and pulling out a large sweatshirt and panties and taking them into the bathroom with you. 

While the water begins to run, Bucky undoes the blankets, looks thoroughly through the pillows and in between the sheets in search of bed bugs. Next, inspecting the lamps, outlets, and anything else that could possibly hide a camera, microphone, or any other device. He even contemplates tearing apart the carpet under his feet, but decides against the extra work. He places your bag along with his own backpack on the small table in the corner of the room and fixes the bed to not look like he tore it apart recklessly. I wonder what side she prefers-

The bathroom door opens and a cloud of steam flows out, you soon emerge with a towel wrapped around your head, large sweatshirt hanging off your frame and bare feet digging into the soft carpet beneath you. You fling the towel off of your head using momentum from throwing your head and neck forward, the towel landing on the floor in front of you and your wet hair sending a light spray Bucky feels on his warm face.

By the time Bucky finishes with his shower, the room resembles a sauna and his metal arm has gone hot. A long sleeved shirt and cotton shorts are slipped onto his body along with a pair of thick socks to keep him warm at all times. He steps out of the bathroom, using his towel to rub through his hair, and he spots you using the small mirror on the wall. 

Your legs are on display and your underwear is in sight. Bright pink with WEDNESDAY printed on the behind in bubble letters, it’s Friday, the bottoms of your butt cheeks hanging out the bottom of the fabric. The cotton hugs your body and Bucky can’t help but blush at the sight. His mother would smack him over the head if she were here right now. 

Your shirt is lifted, one of your hands holding it high on your chest where Bucky can see a slip of under your breast peeking, the curve intriguing him. Your other hand is occupied rubbing a colorless liquid along your side, Bucky focuses his attention and realizes your rubbing along the scar he left you from your stitches. The bottle on the table has a label that read Vitamin E Natural Oil. 

Your fingers seem unbelievably soft and gentle as he watches them glide along your side, massaging the shiny oil into your smooth skin. You drop your sweatshirt and gather a bit more oil on your hands before rubbing it into your hips where Bucky can see the faintest stretch marks.

“Sorry ‘bout the scar. O-on your side, I mean.” Bucky stutters out, convincing himself that his body is warm from the shower he took. 

“It probably saved my life, so I can’t say I’m sorry about it.” You respond without turning around, as though you knew he was there watching you lather yourself in oil like the beginning of a softcore porn but didn’t mind him enjoying the show.

“What’s that stuff for, anyways?” Bucky asks as he gathers his old clothes back into his bag, folding each piece before placing the packed bag next to yours on the table. Your bag that clearly does not have folded clothes, only crinkled ones. Bucky empties your bag and folds your clothes for you before neatly packing it and closing the zippers.

“Helps fade scars.”

“Yeah, but why? Scars are cool.” 

“I suppose. I’d still like to lighten them a bit. So they look better, prettier.”

“You’re probably the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in the last few decades.”

“You don’t even remember most of the last few decades,” You try to joke.

“I mean it. It’s a compliment. It’s okay to accept and enjoy compliments, doll.” Bucky looks at you, forcing you to meet his eyes. You see in your peripheries as he puts the cap on the bottle of oil and places it next to your bag. A small smile adorns his face as he looks at you, and you can’t help but feel a knot form in your throat.

It’s been a long while since you’ve received any kind of love, whether that be physical, emotional, mental, or self. It’s an overwhelming feeling when someone who you aren’t actually the closest with gives you such a deep and personal compliment. 

Aren’t the closest with- this is your only friend he the only person you even know. The point is, being the most beautiful woman of the century is much different than having pretty hair or a good sense of humor.

You look away from him before the small bit of wetness can gather in your waterline.

“Which side of the bed do you prefer?” Bucky whispers softly to you, as to not break the safe atmosphere created by his sweet comment.

You clear your throat that now feels thick with tar, “The right.”

“Good. I prefer the left.”

[imaginethathaikyuu]

How did I find your blog? I was looking for soft Kuroo content on google. And your soft birthday hc’s for him came up. And that’s also how I found tumblr

What was the first story of yours that I read? That Kuroo piece ^

Roughly, how long have I been following this blog? Well I found that piece shortly after it was posted so…. Around the beginning of December 2019 I think. Got a tumblr a few months later and you were the first person I followed (had you in my bookmarks bar before that! (still have you in my bookmarks bar and when I share my screen in classes there are occasionally questions. I ignore them))

What’s something I’ve noticed about you personality wise? You’re really clever and funny. But you’re also sweet. But because you’re clever you have no hesitation in setting up and enforcing your boundaries, and I really admire that strength and confidence.

Have we ever interacted, either by PM, ask, or in the comments? What was my perception of you? YES!!! PM, SOOOOO many asks, comments, and you sent me an ask. And reblogged it. And I cried. A lot. My perception: you’re lovely and I want to h*ld your h*nd ….please.

What’s my favorite story of yours? Oh how to choose. Firstly, I’m a nb, biracial, bisexual. Honey, I’ve never made a choice in my life. But let’s try here. Anything you’ve written for Tsukki. Literally all of it is gold. Fight me. I was going to write “especially [piece title]” but I LITERALLY CANNOT CHOOSE ONE. Your Bokuto nightmare piece. Your Kuroo angsty fight. Your Tendou dealing with S/O with parents who yell piece. Your Kinktobers. Your Futakuchi and Mattsun pieces. And your Terushima pieces. Ugh. I CANNOT CHOOSE. OH AND YOUR STREAMER KENMA!!!!!! OKay just… all of it. I can’t choose. I tried, and I failed, and I’m willing to admit failure.

What’s a story I’d love to see you write? I don’t want to say this… because it hurts me… but I just KNOW you’d write brilliant angst. Some of my fav pieces of yours are pained beginnings with happy endings. That fight with Tsukki after a bad day at work. The pieces I mentioned above (nightmare pieces and fighting pieces and angsty home life ha.. ha.ha.ha.). That Oikawa one where the reader wakes up in bed without him and thinks he left. You write these gorgeous atmospheres and descriptive, visceral feelings, and if you chose to use it for evil…. You could get evil shit done. You’re SO powerful. So I want to read it… but also…. I don’t. I’d love to see you write ABO like you mentioned a while back or just see you explore a cutesy soulmate AU or something. I think you’d be really good at writing an AU where you hear what the other person’s listening too. I feel like you’d be so good at making me feel something for someone who was in another city. (think this would be cute with Tsukki cos he’s headphones boy, OR terushima because I like the dynamic of someone flirty, who clearly cares about looks, falling for someone he can’t see) ANYWAY….

Favorite pairing you write for?/fav reader insert? Tsukishima x reader. It’s my fav self-ship. (but also Mattsun, Bokuto, Oikawa, Tanaka, and Akaashi because you write them SO WELL!!!!)

Have any of your stories helped me through a hard time? Of course. Your self-harm piece came at a time I needed it. Iwaizumi’s in particular saved my life. But also your Tendou dealing with S/O parents who fight… came right when I needed it. Also starting college… was hard.. And reading and rereading your fluff really pulled me through it.

Have any of your stories hit closer to home? YES (see above).

Do I genuinely like your blog, it’s aesthetic or posts? It’s overall feel? It’s content? Yes. The aesthetic is, ngl, a wee bit basic. But I kinda love that. And the feel? It feels like home. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Your blog is my safe space. So, yes, I love. It’s content? YES. OF COURSE. Your personality probably could have kept me here even if your content was kinda shit, but I follow you RELIGIOUSLY because of your content. So yes. I adore.

Is English my first language? Kinda??? I grew up in a trilingual household so I kinda learned three languages at the same time while growing up. But no, I don’t need to translate it in my head. Because English was one of the three.

Anything I want to share? Yes. Please keep being kind to yourself, caring for your mental health, enforcing your boundaries, loving Akaashi, and just generally being you. You’re so lovely as you are, and I hope you continue grow, but never change. Also I’m sorry about all your work stuff…. It literally makes me feel sick. And I hope you find a job where that’s not tolerated, or that your work finds a better way of protecting it’s employees. I know you know this, but none of it is your fault. I just hope things improve. AND I love you… a lot. And I’m so proud of you hitting 9K and you deserve so many more followers because your pieces are just... GORGEOUS. I can’t wait until I’m at Barnes and Noble in a few years and I can pick up a hardback copy of your debut novel. I’m so excited to say “I knew Em Akaashi (which is your legal name as far as I’m concerned) before she was so popular among the masses.”

so ive been trying to figure out the correct and worthy way to reply to this ask since the moment i got it......because its so fucking sweet and kind and amazing and pure and perfect and i just dont know how to use WORDS to explain the way it makes me feel so.......i will just reply in bullet points in regards to every question u answered to make it a lil easier :D

- the fact that u found my blog on google ....... like this may be odd and a very specific thing but before i made this blog i always hoped that 1 day my fanfic would pop up in google searches bc thats ALWAYS how i found fics when i was reading them religiously and i felt so much ENVY!!!!! LIKE I WANTED TO BE THERE I WANTED MY FICS TO B POPULAR ENOUGH TO POP UP ON GOOGLE.....that may sound very selfish but its true......so thats just very cool to me... :]

- u’ve been here for so long omg 🥺🥺🥺🥺 if anyone in ur classes ever asks jus promo my blog like its nbd 

- thats so sweet what 🥺🥺🥺 i try my best to advocate for myself and be confident for myself.....ive spent far too much of my time being silently uncomfortable because i was afraid of pushing someone’s buttons seeming rude.....but NO MORE!!!! i know what upsets me, i know my triggers, i know what i dislike experiencing, and im never gonna let myself be anxious or uncomfortable for someone else’s sake, esp if theyre being rude 2 me. i would say its less strength and confidence and moreso me attempting to take control of my anxiety in the places i can (aka on the Internet) bc i am SICK OF ANXIETY ATTACKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

- BBY no dont CRY!!!! im racking my brain trying to think of who u are i wanna know so bad so i can thank u personally for being the kindest person in the world n so i can send u more asks >:(........MY HAND IS URS TO HOLD!!!!! dont tell akaashi tho 

- OMG my TSUKKI pieces.....hes so hard to write why ;-; thank u so much im so glad u enjoy my works<3333

- NOT ANGST NOT LIKE THIS!!!!!!!!! pained beginnings to happy endings are my specialty.....IMAGINE me writing a sad ending like i CANT!!!!!!!!! ive only done it a few times and it is so Difficult.....YALL ARE SO LUCKY IM NOT EVIL!!!!!! ive had this idea for an angsty akaashi fic that i think about and write in my head every night before falling asleep and it Hurts and i wanna write it but i also can’t make myself :D ABO would be very fun but i genuinely do not know how to explore the concept while making it feel like it’s Written By Me.....u know what i mean? same with soulmate aus, i really dislike writing them because theyre just boring to me like they all feel the same everything’s been done for them.....which is FINE!!! but i write enough cliche stuff as it is HAHA, a long distance type soulmate au could be fun and interesting but ldr’s trigger me bc of a past relationship so </3 but hey maybe someone else could use the idea!!!!!

- gotta love tsukishima <3

- im rlly glad my writing could be there for you friend, one of the biggest reasons i write fanfic (and write the kind of fics i write) is bc i know firsthand how much reading sweet stories abt ur comfort characters can help u through the shittiest times - i just wanna offer ppl some support and happy feelings and love cuz sometimes fanfic is the only time we can find those things (and theres nothing shameful abt that either if anyone bullies u for reading fanfic i will fight them)

- I KNOW MY LAYOUT IS LAZY AND BASIC AS FUCK AND THAT IS BECAUSE I DO NOT GIVE A SHIT LMAOOOO so im glad u think its ok...... like i dont have the patience to create a fancy ass layout that actually works are u KIDDING ME??????? I COULD LITERALLY NEVER plus i kinda like that its just the basic kinda ugly boring default layout like it makes it simple and easy and i feel like it brings focus to the only thing on this blog that i care about which is my writing, i rlly only care about the content here and not aesthetics jdbljdabsdk that blue background will be there til i Die......i adore u more btw 

- WHOA trilingual what the hell ur so cool tell me more 

- you have my word, friend, that i will continue to do all of that so long as you do the same. take care of yourself, be kind to yourself - i know u can do it, ur so kind to others and u deserve to be kind to urself, too so this is the part that genuinely brought me to tears because *sappy dumb shit ahead* ok look ever since i can remember the one and only thing ive wanted to do with my life is become an author ...... dreams of book covers with my name written on them and words in pages written by me and fanart of my characters and going into my local bookstore n seeing my book there....these thoughts all haunt my fucking brain because i want it SO BAD!!!!!!!! so bad that it makes me CRY!!!!!!!! ive never wanted something more and just!!!!!!!!!!!! idk how much u meant that part but holy fuck!!!!!! i hope so bad that one day i can send u a free copy of my book as a thank u for being the person u are. u have all my love friend, every last bit of it <333333333

[dulceackles]

Life update

Hello. I mean I doubt anyone is interested but since i was away for a little while I thought about writing little bit what’s up and how i’ve been. 

My mental health has been really bad again. Two weeks ago I dont think there was a night I didn’t cry and now this week everything has been kind of messy and stressful. But I was sick for few days and had few days off. I’ve just been really lonely and I don’t really know what to do about that and also my anxiety has been fairly bad too. I’m trying to find a way to balance my life now and maybe idk kinda start new. I’ve been taking little distance to my friends or they have been to me, I don’t know but anyways. In a way i’m scared of soon being left completely alone but also, I dont really think my and my friend’s relationship is healthy and I feel like they cause me more mental health problems than joy. So I don’t know, I’m hoping a new chapter in my life would start somehow. 

I don’t really have any reason I’ve been ia here. It’s mainly just due anxiety and fear that someone is secretly stalking my blog or knows who I am and is making fun of me behind my back. (Which I know is dump). But also, what has been bothering me lately is that I feel like nothing I enjoy in life is actually not mine or actually in my life. I don’t know if someone understands what I mean but like I love Måneskin but at the end of the day, It’s just a band doing music and it has nothing to do with me and if I didn’t have internet access, it’d be completely erased from my life. But I don’t have friend (I mean good/close ones), good relationships with my family, partner, a place in uni, anything that I’d get joy out of that would actually physically be in my life. 

That to be said, i think leaving tumblr hasn’t been a good choice either. I feel like a part of community here and I feel like being able to share my creations (even tho i know my writing isnt the best and my gifs are crispy) really helps with feeling like i have something in my life. 

About the fics, I’m sorry i’ve been ignoring my inbox and request and not finishing the works i’ve promised to write but i’v just felt unmotivated and it’s really hard even trying to write anything decent when feeling like that. I appreciate every request so much but sometimes I found if hard to relate to what yall ask me to write or hard time filling the plot line so I just skip them or leave them for later. I never want to make anyone feel ignored so just don’t think that I’ve ignored your request or whatever you’ve sent on my inbox. 

So yeah, that’s where we at. I really really really wish i get into uni next year. Even though I got a job and they offered that I could maybe continue work there longer than first planned (which i’m excited about), I still feel like im stuck in my life. Or maybe it just is the fact that im secretly hoping uni would magically fix my life like maybe I’d meet new people there who with I’d have fun and who with I’d not feel lonely but who knows.  

also dyed my hair really dark violet kinda red, it looks nice but don’t know if I’ll keep it yet. 

[julesworldd]

Trisha’s Video Part Two

Trisha calls Jeff and the whole situation on the podcast - smug, arrogant, making up shit, not taking accountability, talking about a situation he was not involved in ,and ignorant.. Which is very toned down from what she was calling Jeff in the first video.

She doesn’t cry in this video.

“I truly want to move on, and I truly have moved on but...” Then goes on to say that she is entitled to speak her mind especially when they ‘make up bullshit’ about her or say ‘some ignorant shit’

“I can’t be the one to be your voice, like I can’t be the one to speak up, I just encouraged you to speak up.” Is her reason for not exposing the supposed sexual harassment.

She roped in fanjoy in supporting this assault issue because they allowed them to be in the promo photos for the most recent release of the Beverly merch.

There was a insta post from Todd insta that was apparently deleted mocking the situation with captions from different members. “Hes assaulting me.” “You can’t go around assaulting people” “I can go back to jail for this” etc etc.

“Im not making this video to cancel anyone.”

She talks a lot about people in the vs not taking accountability and being angry about that because ‘I’m the first one to say when I do/say something wrong that I’m sorry”

Apparently there is a new clip in the scotcast calling Trisha, not by name, a psychopath. Saying people like that shouldn’t have a platform. She talks about this for the last over tenish minutes that, that is messed up because Jeff is mocking mental health struggles.

My Opinion

I do think what Jeff said in directed at Trisha in the last podcast is messed up just because of the generalization of mental health struggles. It was kind of clearly directed at Trisha so I’d like to believe that Jeff doesn’t actually believe that and was exaggerating for comedy.

As for everything else, she was basically repeating the same thing she has been saying in old videos and interviews. She is kind of heavily treating herself as the victim in all this. Like she was kicked out just because of sharing her opinion supposedly. It takes faults on both sides to end a friendship not just one. 

Its a mess to say the least so leave me yalls opinions in the asks or anything if you want to. I’m going to my last class rn so I’ll answer them after.

[agentunwin]

What do you think of infiteshawn?

ok by very popular demand dsjks i will finally explain myself regarding this

so the other day i called her weird and annoying and i still feel the same; for a few reasons.

one; when i first got here she and flickershawn were some of the first ppl i followed and she would always answer anons like “boring” i guess when the anon wasnt interesting enough so i was like ok thats :/ but ok whatever. after like a month or 2 we actually were friends for a while and it was cool o whateva but ill never forget this one text she sent me where she was basically telling me i had to read rm bc people were “losing their shit” over a certain part and it just felt rly weird bc it felt like self-advertisement but thats just how i interpreted that so i was like okay whatever again.

then the weirdness rly started when she started posting about her boytoys. i even enabled it for a little bit asking her q’s about him bc at that point we were still friends but then it spiraled tf out of control and i took a step back and was like what the fuck. sis was straight up posting his pics, saying his name and the area they live in, sharing all their private conversations.. all without him knowing. like yo selfies and all your personal convos are just OUT THERE for THOUSANDS of people and you don’t even know. that’s fucking creepy. after that i said 

hm whats next. i guess ill dabble in a lil sumn sumn here; she’s obsessed w being the prettiest and only redhead on shawnblr and its super weird. like ignoring-people-until-you-think-they-threaten-your-beauty weird. thats all ill say about that

uhh i hate those holier-than-thou posts she always makes. (SHORT VERSION OF THIS STORY) someone told me of the time she went off and practically had her followers attack a writer over a stalker/creepy(?)!shawn story they wrote, saying its not appropriate (To each their own opinion) and that they needed to take it down and she highlighted all the parts she found disgusting but the person was asleep at that time so u can imagine how that went. but i just thought that was funny considering she then later voted on Nextdoor, my stalker!shawn story so what was all that attacking of that (way smaller blog) really all about.

you know what was also genuinely HILARIOUS to me? when her and fs would get into yet another argument and sarah would send april asks but april had the blog tracker on (which i also have- hi sarah) and she could see that sarah was the one sending her the anons but she still denied it like that shit really SENT ME and then she tried to play the victim tuh NOT IN MY HOUSE!

there is SO much im leaving out bruh but ive been typing this for so long lmaoo ill say this one final (not rly) thing;

Why the fuck has roommates been going on so long bro. Like honestly, why. What for. I get its cute o whateva but that series has literally been going on since before i joined shawnblr in September. That’s over 8 months. I thought it ended like 3 months ago and I would never have to see anything about it again but then the extra blurbs and shit like HO, MY GOD. I’ve never seen anything that dragged out in my fucking LIFE PLEASEEE. I blacklisted it and it still shows up on my dash all the time I cant escape. 

some extras:

-the blurb she wrote that was just actually a detailed account of sex she had w some dude? wack

-the “queen of shawnblr” shit? like literally entering a gc saying “the queen has arrived” even IRONICALLY? even if its supposed to be funny? wack

-lying on shawns friend o whateva that bullshit was? wack

-the overly woke attitude she puts on sometimes?? wack

-the fact that so many people on shawnblr agree w me? great, amazing, lol. im not pulling this shit all out of my ass, yall. im not the only one. 

as some closing remarks id just like to say:

i admit wholeheartedly to being a fake bitch towards the end of our friendship. in fact ill expose myself here:

I was lying my ass off in these so YES i was fucking fake i own that shit. but now we both have each other blocked and its a mutual dislike soooooo…. happy ending!

SEE YA!

edit: im not arguing with anyones son NOR daughter over this its my last day on shawnblr think i care!!!

[shattered-catalyst]

So this  isnt for anything other than just to say what happened just so I feel heard and I can explain why I cant be as energetic and socially active on here. Its not a callout post or to be reblogged/shared by people. Its not to get anyone in trouble or to cause any reaction. It’s just for me to let it out and reclaim this space again. Its been a year since it happened and I guess I’m just still noticing how badly it has impacted my PTSD. How much its changed me as a person both online and off, and this isnt a woe as me thing either this is just me feeling a need to be heard and explain my own behavior over the year and also to make one simple request of you guys: no matter what you do, always treat your rp partners as people first and writers second.

Because I feel myself becoming bitter and that isnt who I am and I dont want to be someone like that. Or like this. I want to be me again

The person who did this wont be named mainly because they dont deserve it and yall dont need to know. Their behavior when I confronted them more than cements the impression that they dont see any harm in what they said and how they reacted. And again this isnt about them though In A Way I suppose it is? it takes two to tango but it takes one to encourage someone to kill themselves.

This is going to be long because I need to inform on the activity that lead up to this  because it didnt just happen over night- though in a way it did. But you need a better picture of this person because apparently they present a really great face that only a few of us see the manipulative and toxic side of.

This person was always very judgemental and hyper critical. I witnessed a lot of very negative and toxic behavior from them but I was naive and just hoped they would mature as they grew older and gained more independence. I thought it was just a toxic friend group and that perhaps she would recognize her self destructive and immature behavior and grow from it. 

My first red flag should have been when they accused me of being their ex girlfriend SOLELY because I was living in PA. I hate to break it to yall, but PA is a big ass state and has a lot of comic book loving ladies. Thankfully I have never met this person IRL and I hope I never do.

They tried to pull me into making fun of other muns on discord, including mocking sensitive pictures from a mun’s personal blog. I blatantly said it wasnt okay and made me uncomfortable and she continued laughing and making jokes about it with her friend group on discord. She kept trying to pull me into it no matter how often I tried to change the subject.

Her group of friends also did this thing where one of them would go interact with a mun an they would take screenshots of the convo and share it with the group and mock the mun they were interacting with. Whether it be their presentation of character/grahics/writing style/ etc.

The other red flags I ignored? How much she complained and mocked other muns and compared them to me; if anyone did anything or said anything she disagreed with it was an instant blow up. She took EVERYTHING personally including other people writing the same characters she did, having differing headcanons, not knowng obscure details about canon, etc.

She once tried to make fun of a new writing partner I had who was writing the same character, and I had to break it to her that this new person could write in her first language if she wanted to; im being very vague but let me just say if you and your character have the same first language and you want to write in it then its completely WRONG for a white mun to try and make fun of you for it.

She once suggested I had stolen pictures off her pinterest when she sent me a moodboard request for my character. Jokes on her I didnt even know she HAD a pinterest and I had gotten all my pictures from the ‘green aesthetic’ tag on tumblr. Which I told her but she kept pushing the idea on me I had stolen them. I of course dismissed this and put it on the back burner despite the alarm bells going off.

This hyper critical and paranoid behavior continues with everything from other canon blogs making similar head canons/ vaguely similar graphics/ to fanfiction authors having similar head canons/plot ideas.

My penname Citrus? I didnt want one. I didnt want it. She demanded I have a pen name and if not she was going to call me Cat. Now as yall know I dont like being enmeshed with my muse so I keep myself separate from them. I didnt like being called Cat and I told her that explicitly. She kept doing it. So I had to make a pen name because she refused to respect my boundaries.

When the Deadpool movie came out she DEMANDED I change my FC to reflect the movie Despite Not Changing Hers to reflect her own characters new look - which might i add is fat erasure. It was clear then that the rules and standards she held other people to didnt apply to herself. I was labeled problematic for not giving into her demands to change FCs (which I have a literal logical reason for not changing and im not explaining that here)

So I shouldve left. Long story short I didnt because every friendship I’d been in until around this time had been abusive and toxic. I thought this was all normal behavior for people to have and I was convinced I was just being critical of someone elses opinions/ insensitive etc. Thanks to my colleagues in graduate school and to several of you on here I learned that ‘hey dumbass friends dont treat your ass like this’.

Im leaving a lot out about the shit she did/said to me but those snippets give you an idea of things.

Leading up she decided to leave fandom and asked we didnt talk about marvel I said cool okay and didnt talk about marvel with her. If I did I would ask first if she was okay if we talked about one small aspect I thought might excite her/ she would like to know about but it wasnt often that happened because she began ghosting me. Hard. She stopped replying to me at all over discord when I would try and talk to her how we used to about our lives. She didnt answer any asks for munday or character development, in fact she blatantly ignored me.

I checked in a couple times with her to make sure I hadnt done anything to make her uncomfortable and she said no. May I emphasize she said no here. Im emphasizing it right now. She said no. She said everything was fine. So when I was like hey dude this is super triggering for me can you send me like a hi every once in awhile just so I can know we’re okay because its super triggering for me. Yall know what she did? She ‘lmao’-ed. she thought that was hecka funny. Yeah triggering ‘Citrus’ is hilarious isnt it? No it isnt and I shouldve cut her ass off right then and there.

Heres where shit gets confusing: she kept fucking talking about marvel to me. Id get messages at random times about marvel and then silence for weeks. I vividly remember during this period I was cleaning the museum vault and she kept messaging me about her marvel fc’s and how she wouldnt get a plotline and how characters were wrong etc.

I remember being REALLY confused because she had said NO MARVEL. But here she was bitching at me about marvel. In fact thats all she did when she did talk to me. Which was only like three or four times during the ghosting time period. She’d bitch about marvel and then vanish.

Shed make claims about not watching her dash and thats why she never responded to me/ interacted with me. She’d say she wasnt talkng to anyone while I see her on the dash TALKING TO PEOPLE and Id like to point out Ive told her I would be fine ending anything as long as she let me know.

but she followed me on every blog and throughout this time period she made and followed me on numerous ones. She kept reaching out sporadically to bitch about her fcs/how horrible marvel was/ and thats it. 

It was extremely confusing because if someone doesnt want to talk to me I assume they will; 1. unfollow 2. block 3. say goodbye 4. ghost and stay ghosted.

Not cycle through behavior rapidly. I asked her a few times if we were good and that I was confused and I got another ‘lmao’ reaction so I assumed we were good. At this point I still have no idea what was going on/ what message I was supposed to be receiving other than confusion.

So following this is heavily suicide tw and I encourage you not to read this part and to scroll down until the suicide tw is over which is highlighted in bold- if you’re triggered by that because I care about those who follow my blog.

So thats when this shit happened. I had tried reaching out to her on a different fandom platform to try and maintain the friendship. Because she said numerous times that we were friends. So like I reached out thinking maybe she just didnt want a marvel blog period.  It wasnt too long after that that she suicide baited me.

I was in a really bad place and had been for awhile and when I posted about how the only thing holding me on was the new comic coming out and specifically said “im seriously suicidal and this comic is the only thing giving me hope #idk what to do anymore ”. I was surprised when she liked the post.

I was three steps into a four step plan. I had everything but the method planned out and was just waffling along with that. Because yknow its complicated and you do it you make it count amiright. Right. I was in a fucked up place. I had just realized I was gay, I was horrendously depressed, I was in considerable physical pain, I was working 70 hours a week, my OCD was at an all time high and the only thing that kept me on this earth was a fucking comic book. You hold onto what you need to yknow?

WELL APPARENTLY NOT

Because this person who doesnt read her dash? This person who doesnt want to talk about anything? Liked that post where I specifically stated I was suicidal and sent me a discord message saying “dont have hope”.

Thats all it said “dont have hope”

Now I know what youre thinking but hold on because it gets worse.

I said something about being confused I dont really remember because I was pretty out of it. I do remember she kept going on about how horrible the comic would be and that it would be a piece of trash. I remember telling her I was really numb and in a bad place and couldnt feel anything. I remember her sending me screencaps and continuing to go ON AND ON about how it wasn’t worth reading.

I remember with gross intensity how someone who said they were my friend was taking away the only thing that was keeping me alive.

I dont remember how the conversation ends. I called out of work for the next three days. I was catatonically depressed and unable to really move. I didnt eat either. I went to internship, work, and school in a state of dissociation.

 I took screencaps of everything and set them aside for later. IDK what I was going to use them for but I set them in a folder on my desktop, looking back I regret what I did next; because I deleted them. I deleted them because I thought maybe she had been manic or drunk and hadn’t realized the scope of what was happening. I wanted to talk to her about it and clear things up because I believed in her. I believed there was no way she would be so callous as to do that on purpose. No way would someone try and get someone they called a friend to kill themselves. So I deleted the screencaps and my post on tumblr. I deleted all evidence to protect her and I encourage you all never to fucking do that even if you think that person misunderstood the gravity of your situation. Because if you’re wrong no ones going to believe you.

I remember shifting between intense depression and total denial.

I spent the rest of that month in and out of intense dissociative states when I wasnt in class or working with my clients.  During the middle of October my sister sent me pictures of a litter of puppies and I was like ‘well, i really need to either kill myself or make sure i dont’. I spent a few days continuing to waffle with that decision but then i remembered my mom cosigned my loans and I cant leave her with that debt because fuck we cant even afford my funeral to begin with. So I adopted a dog, I named him Julio to remind me to keep living and he finally came to me on halloween.

He was the only reason I left bed on my days off. I tried not to think about it but I did.  

I continued to spiral with heavier dissociative episodes and vivid nightmares about it.

SUICIDE TW OVER

I waited until Christmas to ask her to clarify the situation and let her know I no longer felt comfortable writing with her. I reminded her what happened and told her to check her discord if she wanted to see for herself etc.

She sent two long asks of combative, emotionally abusive, and gaslighting accusations. The first thing she did was say I needed to provide evidence if I went around making accusations like that. Then she cascaded into how I always talked about marvel *points up to where i explained what happened earlier*.  She tried gaslighting me like a champion and tried turning me into a horrible person the only problem is everything she was accusing me of doing was the shit she was doing to me. Everything. 

Even if I was bad at any time I had given her numerous chances to tell me I was overstepping a boundary- she always said no. I gave her numerous times to unfollow me if she wasnt interested in interacting with me- she never did. In fact I had unfollowed her that month because of her behavior towards me and she hadnt even noticed.

I let her know I could tell she was angry,  and that I didnt take receipts of private conversations because I believed in settling things like adults, and that if she ever wanted any proof it was all in her discord anyway. I let her know she could contact me to apologize but otherwise I didnt want her on any of my blogs and I told her the first thing she should have done wasnt demand receipts but she should have asked if I was okay. Its a real reflection of where her priorities were when she demands evidence rather than checks to see if a writing partner is okay.

Even if I did something horrible it doesnt warrant someone trying to get me to end my life. 

I was notified she put a post on her blog apologizing to her followers for being a bad friend and that she was a horrible person and ofc everyone was like ‘noooo youre perfect’ and its like ya thats not for me who hasnt followed her in months- thats to save face.

Her friends blogs kept visiting my profile and going through the month where this happened.

Everything she did and said was to save face. Her blog and her reputation are the only thing she cared about. She has never approached me to apologize or anything of the sort and I doubt she ever will. I would hope she would never do this again and I hope she has grown as a person since. That her life is better and her mother is okay, that shes happy and learning. 

 I know by posting this I will never receive an apology- then again i never expected one to begin with. I could go through all the trouble of restoring the deleted files but to be honest it isnt worth it because theres no room in my life for that type of toxicity.

Since this happened I:

I have stronger episodes of depression and dissociation since.

My PTSD has increased and I have week long spikes in anxiety attacks, depression and decreased self worth if I even see her around the rpc despite being blocked, blacklisted on xkit etc.

Have more difficulty completing basic self care tasks due to an increase in depression and a decrease in self worth.

I have nightmares about this event and her to this day a year later.

I cannot interact with the RPC how I once did as I fear seeing her on my dash or any sort of information getting back to her about me.

It took me half a year to see the character she wrote as as safe again and for awhile I couldnt even look at him without experiencing an anxiety attack.

I keep having nightmares. Its been a year and I still have nightmares about this.

I find myself having more difficulties connecting with people online especially on this blog. I’m constantly on edge when interacting with people and I feel spikes of anxiety at the merest thought of someone talking about me to her.

I find myself unable to have confidence as a writer or creator online because I have been reminder of the cement wall between oc characters and their canon counterparts.

I cannot go out and just follow anyone and be friendly and trusting with them anymore, even with people I already know. In the back of my mind is a constant reminder of how she and her friends used to check up on people and pretend to write with them/ interact with them just to take screenshots of conversations to share with the group. I have become a paranoid little bitch in the past year is what Im saying. like theres 0 need for that shit.

I blocked most of the people she interacted with simply to save myself from being triggered by her blogs/ mentions of her and that isnt fair to those people.

I remember the photo incident and how people derived such joy from mocking someones body. I can think of so many incidents of them making fun of others and I remember how that could be happening about me rn, and I wonder if anyone would stick up for me like I did for the other mun.

 I hope by posting this I can try and return to the person I was before this happened. I can try and not be so bitter and reach out again to others. That somehow I can continue working on making tumblr a safe place for me again and not a PTSD laced minefield.

I would like to remind this isnt a callout and I request if you know who this is about you dont say anything to them. This isnt for them. They have NEVER reached out to apologize for their actions. They have NEVER checked to see if I was okay after that. They have NEVER shown any remorse for encouraging me to kill myself and while I hope they’ve grown from the situation and will never do it again I doubt I will ever get closure from such an event. But i DO hope by writing this I can take this place back.

Consider this my first step towards bringing this up to a therapist.

 Consider this another step to me taking this blog back and feeling safer here; and maybe just maybe Ill make up a cool pen name for myself and own that shit.

If you’ve read this far thank you for your patience with me, and I request you always treat your writing partners like the people that they are. 

This post is not intended or written to leave this blog and therefore I request you not reblog it or share segments of it with ANYONE. If I find you have shared anything on here without my explicit permission I will block you.

‘Citrus’

[the-marvel-imagines-blog]

Madness | Chpt. 5

Requests are Open

Chapter Title: “Thunder in the Rain”

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Word Count: 7,968

Warnings: angst (I mean, when is it not angsty?), new character alert, also some kissing :*

Name Pronunciations: Hjalmar: “He-all-mar” | Aaldir: “All-deer” | Ephinea: “Eh-fin-ee-uh”

A/N: Y’all are my favorite people in the universe. Thank you so much for reading and enjoying what I’m writing. Even if not every chapter is you cup of tea, it means a lot to see that people are leaving likes, messaging me, reblogging, etc. I love you all so much! Also, please note that I have taken and will be taking a lot of creative liberties pertaining to these characters. This will be shown in excess during the upcoming chapters, so I just wanted to give a bit of a warning.

Tagged: @teddyboobear @alledeglyfunny (anyone who wants to be tagged can message me and ask. It’s not a problem at all)

As I walked away from him, a part of me hoped to hear some kind of regret in his voice or anything at all, even. Instead, I heard nothing. He was silent. Maybe I had to do what everyone had been telling me to do all along: let him go. In my heart, I knew what would have been best for me. I knew that I would have been safer and filled with less grief if I let him go and went to Midgard to be with the Avengers and her. I knew that she would undoubtedly fill the void in my heart that Loki left there, as she had been the one to fill it ever since he fell. Still, I felt responsible for him as well as the Nine Realms. I saw the damage he had done to the world we knew as our second home. His suit was black (the absence of light), gold (what had once been my favorite color), and green (his favorite color-the color of my eyes). He attacked the part of Midgard we had last been to together. It was a night of laughter and happiness for both of us and a memory that was now clouded with pain and darkness. He still used the daggers I had given to him before he left for a battle with Thor-a battle Thor talked the Allfather into keeping me out of, as I was still recovering from the last one.

A piece of me wondered if he had a reason. Maybe he truly didn’t care for me anymore, maybe he lied to me all those years, but for what? What did he have to gain from an orphan girl? He was a God, and I was just another Asgardian. There was nothing extraordinary about me. If he wanted to manipulate someone for so long, why wouldn’t he choose someone with more power? I had to believe that it was more than that. I had to believe that there was something else that I just wasn’t seeing clearly. He was still in there. The man I knew was still holding on and fighting back this new version of himself. I didn’t know what happened or what made him turn on me so quickly, but I had a few theories of my own. Perhaps he found out about my secret from Odin that day, but I still didn’t even know how Odin would know in the first place. Maybe he fell out of love with me quicker than I had ever anticipated he could. I didn’t understand, but it wasn’t for me to try to figure out in the middle of the night when I was still sick from the ale that evening.

I made my way up to the training grounds, casting the illusion just long enough to make it past the guards. Once my eyes were dried, I dropped the illusion, finally visible again. I lifted a dulled sword from the rack and walked over to one of the training dummies before taking out every ounce of anger, frustration, and pain on it. I didn’t need to build my skills with the sword anymore. However, I knew to practice regularly to stay nimble. Tonight, however, was simply to hit the dummy as hard as possible to make my muscles sore. I just wanted to make myself tired enough that I could fall asleep for the rest of my life, and if I couldn’t achieve that, I at least wanted to be tired enough that when I laid down in bed, I could fall asleep immediately. I didn’t want to think of his harsh words or the way he glared at me like it was my fault he fell in the first place. I didn’t want to think of the mistakes I had made or the grief I felt over the loss of a man who meant so much to me.

Listening to the loud crack as my sword hit the dummy over and over again helped drown out the sorrow in my heart and the voices in my head that were even more cruel than Loki could ever even hope to be. As I growled, I thought of every moment in my life that I felt anger, every moment I felt alone, every moment I felt weak. I thought of the night he told me he hated me, the fall, when I saw him on Midgard, when I left her, when Tony Stark shed a tear for me, when she cried. There were so many moments, but they all came rushing back as the wall I had built up to keep them away finally broke down and crumbled into nothing. Suddenly, I heard a loud crack and opened my eyes to see that my last swing of the sword had been too successful, as the blade lay broken on the ground.

“For a woman as peaceful as yourself, you sure like breaking swords when you’re angry,” Thor’s voice rang out from behind me.

I whipped around, surprised by his presence. I hadn’t heard him coming, and I certainly didn’t feel him because of my clouded thoughts. As soon as I looked at him, my mind quieted once more. He was a peaceful soul with eyes as deep as the oceans. He leaned against one of the pillars with his arms crossed over his chest. His robes cascaded over his broad shoulders, and he wore a slight grin upon his lips. I shook my head, dropping the handle of the sword, which would be of no more use, “I apologize if I woke you,” I murmured, attempting to walk past him. I was in no mood for speaking as my frustration had not been washed away completely.

He caught my arm before I could pass him, and as my chest continued to heave, he spoke, “you did not wake me, Lady Eva. I figured that after you visited Loki, you would come here,” he said, hinting at the fact that he already knew what I had been up to that night. My mouth gaped open as I searched for any possible explanation other than the one he proposed. Before I could lie, he continued, “my brother has been playing tricks on me since we were children. Do you not think I can tell? Plus, I’ve known you since we were children, and I knew you would go down to see him at some point,” he shrugged.

“I had to. You can be mad, you can tell the Allfather, you can do whatever you need to do, and I won’t be upset. All I ask is that you continue fighting for him the way I have,” I said, straightening my shoulders, “I will accept whatever punishment my King sees fit.”

“Your King will never know,” Thor replied in a hushed but stern voice, “I will not be speaking a word of this to my father. You did what needed to be done, something he doesn’t believe is worth the time or energy. You’ve looked out for my brother since we were kids, and I would’ve been ignorant to believe that you would just stop because of what happened on Midgard. You still see the good in him, and I admire that because I still love him just as much as you do,” he added, “how was he?”

I stepped back over to him, and he released my arm from his grasp. I motioned around the training grounds, “well, I’m out here, so it didn’t go as well as I had anticipated. He’s still hurting, and it continues to break my heart every time I see him. I can feel his pain just as I could before, but it’s amplified.I just don’t know if I can keep doing this to myself, Thor. I don’t know if I can keep trying to save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. It would kill me to abandon him like this. His mind is chaos. He needs a moment of clarity, of peace, but...maybe I can’t give that to him,” I answered the best way I could.

“Who better to show him that moment of clarity than you?” he asked, gazing down at me with eyes that shined like the sun on my darkest day. While every other love I felt paled in comparison to that which I shared with Loki, Thor brought something else into my life, something more beautiful than life itself. He reminded me that life was not about power or status, it was about living. He had a love for all living things that matched my own, and I loved him all the more for it. Thor never pushed me away, “you have done so much for him, Eva. You may not think you’ve done enough, but you’ve done more than everyone else put together. You have sacrificed more than anyone else. All I know is that you need to take fate into your own hands sometimes. Maybe you find that you don’t want to wait for cooperation from Loki or the Allfather. All I know is that you have allowed others to control your destiny for too long, and it’s time for you to take your control back,” he added, “and if you need to talk or cry or scream, you know that I’m always here.”

My eyes filled up with tears, and I pushed them back, having cried more than enough over the situation. It felt like I couldn’t stop since the fall. It was that moment that I made the promise to myself: I would be weak no longer. I would weep over my situation no longer. I could mourn for the man Loki once was or give him no other option other than to accept my help. As my chest continued to heave due to the unchecked frustration, I grabbed the back of Thor’s neck and attacked his lips with my own. It was the only thing that felt right. It only lasted for a second before the shock forced him away from me, and he held me at a short distance. He cleared his throat, color filling his cheeks, “why did-what are you...we can’t do this when you’re still a bit drunk, Eva. I don’t know if this is you or the ale from earlier, but...you aren’t in the right state of mind for this right now,” he noted, chuckling to lighten the mood.

“Does that really matter anymore?” I asked, closing the space between us once more, and he allowed me, “I want this. Do you want this?” I asked, gazing up into his eyes.

He sighed, “you know I do, and you know I’ve wanted this for a long time. There’s a reason I haven’t done anything since we were young, though, Eva. You belong with Loki, and I don’t want to get in the way of that. I love both of you too much to ruin what you have,” he whispered, his arm snaking around my waist, telling a very different story than the one spilling from his lips.

“What do you think you would be ruining? The rubble of our love? Do you think you can shatter heart we shared anymore? Could you kill a flower that was already dead?” I asked, realizing that, while I loved Loki more than life itself, he loved me no longer, “I will love your brother until the day I die, but he has hurt me so much, I think I deserve a moment of happiness. I deserve to remember the sweetness of love, which is something I have forgotten the taste of for so long. Remind me...please,” I begged, grasping onto his robes in a desperate attempt to let him know that I would not hold anything against him.

He searched my eyes for any hesitation that could have been lingering there, but he found none. He found only loneliness and grief. Perhaps he felt sorry for me, or perhaps he was giving into urges that had lain dormant since our childhood. Either way, he kissed me. I threw my arms around his neck as he lifted me off the ground. I wrapped my legs around his waist, grunting lightly when he pressed me against the pillar he had been leaning on only moments ago. His lips were smoother than I had remembered them, and I could feel the areas he bit when he was nervous. As his left hand grasped my thigh, offering me an extra level of support aside from the pillar, his right hand steadied my face as he kissed me with more passion than I’d ever anticipated.

To my disapproval, his lips departed from mine, and he began to sprinkle kisses along my jaw and down to my neck, a place Loki always loved. As I squeezed my eyes shut, I forced the thought of him from my mind and focused on Thor. When he grazed his teeth against my neck, I arched my body into his, feeling a shiver run through me. As I arched into him, his arms wrapped around my body, squeezing me against him hard enough for me to feel every muscle and every crease even through the clothes. For the first time in such a long time, I felt small in someone’s arms. Aaldir, Hjalmar, and Loki always made me feel that way, like I never needed to worry when they were around. However, she had the opposite effect on me. I was the one to make her feel small, the one to protect her. Ever since her, I had not felt like the small one until now.

With one arm still draped over his shoulder, balancing myself, I grabbed his face with my other hand and turned his head so that he was looking into my eyes. I saw joy and desire and so much anticipation. I pressed my lips to his once more before pulling away and trailing kisses along his defined jaw and down to his neck. His hold on me tightened as I ran my lips along a sensitive spot. As I kissed him, he walked us down the hallway toward his chambers. He opened the doors with his back and shut them with his foot. When we were finally in the comfort of his room, he peeled me off of him and pushed me down onto the bed. I chewed on my bottom lip and laughed as his eyes scanned over my body.

Before I could react or speak, he joined me on the bed, nestling his body between my legs and proceeding to kiss me once more. As soon as I felt his warmth, Loki’s face flashed behind my closed eyes. I tried to blink away the tears in my eyes, but it was like he could feel my hesitance. He pulled away from the kisses and pushed himself off of me in an attempt to figure out where he had gone wrong. I shook my head, trying to collect myself, but I was failing miserably. The promise I made to myself such a short time ago was already being broken as I began to cry, “I’m sorry, Thor. I’m sorry,” I broke down, hiding my face in my hands. I felt so much guilt in that moment, so much anger at myself for being so stupid as to believe that I could just replace the love I received from Loki.

As soon as I began to cry, Thor crawled over to me and wrapped me up in his strong arms, “I know that you don’t want to hear this right now, but as your friend, I need to say it,” he stated as my body quivered and trembled in the arms of the man I wished I was meant to be with. If I was destined to be with Thor, my life would have been so much easier because he would have loved me from the very beginning until the very end. I wouldn’t have felt this pain. Maybe I was just cursed, though. Maybe it was my fault that Loki was hurt the way he was. Maybe I was at the center of his pain. Before my mind could continue down the darkened trail any further, Thor spoke, “I love you, Eva. I have loved you since before I can remember, and I’ve never stopped loving you. For a long time, I wished that you chose me instead of Loki. I wished that you would find happiness with me, but I always knew that you two were meant for each other. Even though it kills me to say it, you and I don’t belong together. You belong with Loki. You always have. And I can’t let my love for you ruin your relationship anymore than it already has,” he said, grief clear in his deep voice.

I shook my head, wiping my tears away as I found the strength to gaze up at him, “you didn’t ruin our relationship, Thor. You had nothing to do with this,” I murmured.

He sighed, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

*Thor’s POV*

I had been more surprised that she stayed after I told her the story of that day, more surprised than I was that she didn’t try to hit me. Instead, we shed tears together, and I sat with her until she fell asleep. After I told her what happened and apologized profusely, she lessened my guilt by being adamant about how it wasn’t my fault. Still, I could see the pain the truth brought her. She was heartbroken, and she went to sleep that way. A piece of me wished I had kept it from her, but it had been two years of her questioning why Loki turned his back on her, and I knew the truth.

Unable to sleep, I found myself with Heimdall in the Bifrost. Though even looking at the Bifrost brought Eva a sense of misery, she spent much time in the very spot I was standing, and I knew that it was because the her fear and sadness over that fateful day paled in comparison to love she had for the Midgardians and...her. She asked about them often, and Heimdall would always fill her in on the health and well-being of each of them. She was always the most concerned about Tony, the two of them having a special connection that I could not understand. Steve also held a special place in her heart, which I could understand much more. He was a soldier and always put the needs of everyone else above his own. He didn’t like to fight, but he did so that others could know peace. Eva did the same.

As I stood next to Heimdall, staring out at the stars, I felt his gaze shift over to me for a fraction of a second, “you told her,” he noted, clearly having cast his gaze upon us when he felt her distress. The two of them were connected the same way her and I were connected. It paled in comparison to Loki’s connection to her, but we could feel when something wasn’t quite right.

I nodded my head, “I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t keep it from her any longer. She deserved to know the truth,” I insisted, feeling guilty that I brought her to an even deeper level of grief but feeling hopeful that it would help her see the truth, that she had done nothing wrong, “she’s become far more destructive since Hjalmar’s death, and I sensed that she was spiraling. She’s lost so much. She blames herself for Hjalmar’s death, and she blames herself for Aaldir’s sorrow. She blames herself for Loki’s turn and believed it to have been her fault, like she could’ve stopped him from wreaking havoc on Midgard. She had every right to know the truth,” I added

“You are not wrong,” he stated, gazing back out at the stars, “she sacrificed so much for Loki, but I fear that she will now try even harder to free him, even if it means committing treason. She has no reason to show the Allfather anymore respect, for she now knows that he played a pivotal role in pushing your brother over the edge,” he added, and I gazed over at his solemn expression. He lowered his grief-stricken eyes, “I fear for her safety if she tries to disobey the orders of the King.”

“You have my word that I will do everything in my power to keep her from doing anything reckless, but she has never listened to me the way she listened to Hjalmar,” I said, thinking of one of my dearest friends, “how is he?” I asked, hoping for some words of comfort about Hjalmar’s new home in Valhalla.

Heimdall sighed, “I...cannot see him,” he confessed, hesitant to speak the words to me. I furrowed my eyebrows, confused as to how the gatekeeper and the guardian of the Nine Realms could lose track of someone. Before I could ask any questions, he turned his haunting gaze upon me, “I have searched for him, hoping to regale Eva with some stories of him when she came; however, I have not found him. I have searched every realm, every planet, every moon. I have searched the entirety of Valhalla, and I even looked for him in the Realm of the Dead. Still, I have found nothing,” he said, turning back to the stars, “I suggest keeping this between us for the time being. There is no need to put her through anymore pain right now,” he stated, strongly.

I nodded my head, “but what if she comes to you and asks about him?”

He frowned, the mere thought of it bringing a sour taste to his mouth, “then I will be forced to break the heart of a princess.”

*1 week later*

After another night spent watching over Eva and getting barely any sleep, I found myself standing beside my father, the man who was the cause of so much of her grief. She knew it now. She knew what he had done, and while I was surprised that she didn’t hate me for the role I had to play in Loki’s downfall, I was unsure of how generous she would be with my father. The two of us watched her as she practically danced around the training grounds with Sif and Ephinea. She hated fighting, but there was a side of her that came out when she fought that I had never seen before. She was skilled in battle the way no other man or woman could ever even hope to be. She blocked the attacks from each of the goddesses, and the two of them pulled no punches. Sif and Ephinea never went easy on Eva, so for Eva to hold her own against the Goddess of War and the Goddess of Strength, respectively, said so much about her skills.

As gracefully as she blocked what would have been a “finishing blow” from Ephinea, she began to take the offensive, swinging the dulled swords and moving like the ocean. I had gotten the chance to see her on the battlefield so many times throughout my life, and it always left me in awe. She had a plethora of her own weapons, many of which Aaldir had crafted for her or helped in the crafting process. He had given her two short swords that she used on occasion, and he also gave her the greatsword she used most of the time. Loki had gifted her a set of daggers, which were delicately crafted but stronger than anyone could anticipate due to their beauty. She danced around Sif and Ephinea, fighting both of them and successfully knocking them down and finishing them. After her success, she helped them back up onto their feet before starting again. I glanced over at my father, “she has grown far more skilled in the art of battle than even you could have anticipated,” I smiled, gesturing to her.

He nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips underneath his beard, “if this is how you plan to sway my mind on the matters she has brought up time and again, it will not work,” he reminded me.

I shrugged my shoulders, “it wasn’t my intention, but it would’ve been nice,” I stated, gazing upon the girl who was so strong but so broken, “she has a point, you know...about Loki,” I murmured, wanting my words to be between us. I watched as his eyebrows raised in shock, which was understandable as I had always been fairly quiet on the matter, never explicitly taking anyone’s side, “I don’t believe you to be delusional, which is why I think you know-as well as she does-that Loki doesn’t belong in the dungeons. He is far more dangerous around people who think like him. His mind was corrupted far more after he fell. Even if we could get him back to the way he was before, when he was only trying to take over the throne, instead of killing hundreds of innocent people on Midgard, it would be better than leaving him down there,” I explained, hoping that he would listen to me with an open heart and open mind, unlike when he listened to Eva make the same case about Loki.

He gazed over at me, the icy blue eye as solemn as ever, “so, you are proposing the same thing? I release Loki into Eva’s care, knowing that he is a weakness for her? Knowing that she could never do what needed to be done if it came to it?” he asked, “I simply implore you to think through every scenario,” he added, sensing that he had offended me.

I narrowed my eyes at him, knowing that he was not completely sincere, “no, you are asking me to doubt her. You are asking me to trust her less, but you don’t know her the way I do. You didn’t see her on Midgard the way I saw her. You have no idea what she has done-the sacrifices she has made-for the good of the Nine Realms, for the good of Asgard. You don’t see what she has given up, but I have,” I growled under my breath, angry that he would try to plant the seed of doubt in my mind.

He shook his head, “I do not wish for you to doubt her, but I do wish for you to look at this from a place of objectivity. If you did, you would have the same doubts I do,” he replied, a voice as calm as the breeze that morning.

“I can look at this objectively, and that’s why I believe she could take on this task. While we cannot go back and rewrite the past, she can turn the tides in our favor. If she were somehow able to turn Loki back to our side, think of what our strength could be with an ally like him! We would be much stronger with him as our ally than with him as our enemy,” I exclaimed, gesturing out at her, “look at her, Father! Truly see her for what she is! She’s no goddess, but she possesses the same skills as one. I don’t think this is coincidence. I truly believe that she is meant to be much more than another Asgardian woman.”

“You have much to learn about her, my son,” he frowned, trying to force a smile and failing. I watched as the look in his eye became distant, like he was revisiting a memory that brought him pain. He tried to push it away, but it lingered there.

I shook my head, “I know all there is to know about her. I know her better than I know myself most of the time,” I chuckled, gazing out at the woman I was in love with. For a long time, I fancied Ephinea and Sif. The two women were stronger than anyone gave them credit for, but I couldn’t talk to them the same way I could talk to Eva. Eva was just...special. I knew every little thing about her, even though I was sure my brother knew far more, things I couldn’t even imagine. I glanced back up at my father, “there’s nothing I don’t know,” I assured him, thinking of the many secrets she had hidden from him, secrets he would never even know.

“There is so much you don’t know about her, so much that you need to know,” he said, a sad smile spreading across his lips as he gazed out at her once more before stepping away from the railing and turning to face down the hallway, “walk with me and learn,” he motioned, and I obeyed, falling in step with him and casting one final glance back at Eva. Once we were far enough away from the prying eyes and ears of everyone else, he began speaking, slowing his pace, “before you or I, before my father and his father before him, Asgard was created. Where once there had been nothing, we received a land of beauty, peace, and salvation. This was the place where the Asgardians could call home, a place that was more beautiful and rich with life than any other, and we took it all for granted,” he explained.

“The land began to dry up. Where there had once been lush forests and beautiful mountains in the distance, it was barren. The Asgardians who lived her long ago took from the world but never thought to give back. They built this city upon her natural beauty, hiding the plentiful gifts she bore to them. The creeks and streams began to dry up. People believed that it was the world’s way of grieving. She had always provided for them, always gave more of herself than they could possibly take, but they did not rejoice as their ancestors once did. They took the gift of life for granted, and they took this realm for granted. They did not thank the world for her blessings, and they did not live their lives the way we were meant to,” he continued.

“The drought of the world continued. Food was more difficult to come by, and we were running out of fresh water. We began sending people to various realms to acquire what we needed and bring it back here. We had already stripped our world of all she had to offer, and we were doing the same with as many others as possible. Life was dwindling, and we were unsure about the future of Asgard,” he said before letting out a long sigh. When I cast my eyes over to his face, I saw that he was reliving a memory that haunted him, and a sadness came over him that I hadn’t seen before, “I had an older brother growing up, a man I’ve never spoken about, a man no one speaks of anymore,” he confessed.

I furrowed my eyebrows, wondering how it could be that an entire piece of Asgard’s history was lost to me, “I forbid his name to be spoken, and there are not many who remember him, not the way I do,” he frowned, “Cul was older, stronger, and much more capable than I was. He believed himself to be the rightful King of Asgard, and when my father-your grandfather-died, Cul took the throne for himself. My father had groomed me to take his place after he died, but my brothers and I allowed Cul to rule because of his promise to keep us as his close advisors, a promise he broke shortly after his coronation. He picked from a group of his loyal followers to be his advisors. It wasn’t until he took the throne that we saw just how twisted he was, how his desire to rule festered into a madness we had never seen before.”

As we walked into the throne room, he stopped and stared up at the golden throne for a long moment, “he ordered that we strip the other planets of their resources, and if we were met with hesitation, we were to take the resources by force. He wanted to make it clear that no one would stand in his way. A part of me wants to believe that he had good intentions, that he wanted to show the Nine Realms that Asgard was still a powerful seat. However, the more he took from other planets, the faster ours was dying, so my brothers and I did what needed to be done. We stopped him,” he said, frowning at the memory. I could tell that it brought him so much pain even recalling it, so I couldn’t imagine the pain he went through when he lived it so long ago, “there was a bloodbath in this throne room. My younger brothers fell that day along with so many others, and it came down to just Cul and I. He had sent his followers away to spare their lives because he knew I wouldn’t kill him, that I would spare his life because of the ancient rules, rules he never followed but rules I couldn’t break,” he explained, glancing back over at me.

I furrowed my eyebrows, “but you broke them on that day?” I guessed, hoping it to be true.

He shook his head, a few strands of white hair falling out of place, “I couldn’t, and it wasn’t because of the ancient rules. I couldn’t kill him because he was my brother, he wasn’t the King of Asgard, not to me. I couldn’t kill him because I could still remember running around the palace with him and getting in trouble for fooling around for too long when I should have been studying battle techniques. Instead, I banished him to the Realm of Death, hoping that Death would be able to do to him what I could not bring myself to do. It was where he belonged. He delivered so many souls to Death that day alone that he deserved to face them all once more,” he said, glancing back over at the throne and narrowing his eyes, “but if I could go back with the knowledge I have now, I would have killed him when I had the chance because-”

Before he could explain his reasoning, a booming voice caused the entirety of Asgard to quake beneath our feet. It was the first time in my life I saw pure fear in my father’s eyes, “Odin!”

*Eva’s POV*

I stood in the courtyard that overlooked the Rainbow Bridge. Thor and Odin stood side-by-side in front of Sif, Ephinea, Fandral, Hogun, Volstagg, and I. Behind us were members of Odin’s kingsguard. While I had not wished to even wake up at all that week-let alone see the Allfather-I stood there out of the love I had for Asgard and my willingness to protect the people from any intruder, including the one that stood before us with his battleaxe strapped to his back. He stood the same height as Hjalmar once did, only slightly taller than the God of Thunder himself. The man before us all held himself like a King with his shoulder straightened and his head held high. He looked massive, like he was a force to be reckoned with. I had never met him, but he looked so oddly familiar to me, like a face I had seen only once before.

Dark brown hair that matched his short beard fell in waves nearly as long as mine, but he pulled the strands from his face and fastened them behind his head to see clearly. Even from our distance, I could see myself clearly in his piercing green eyes. Those eyes were filled with so much anger, so much hatred, but they were still so beautiful and pure...a green that matched the colors of spring. My breath hitched in my throat, and it felt like I was going to suffocate. I knew those eyes. I knew them from somewhere, and when he spoke, I began trembling with unchecked fear, “I am Ezra, son of Cul, and I have been sent here by my father, Cul, son of Bor, the rightful heir to the throne of Asgard. I have been instructed to deliver a message to the usurper, your false king,” he spat out, grimacing at Odin. I was shocked by his words, unsure whether or not they were truthful. I had never heard of Odin having any brothers aside from Vili and Ve, and neither of them had any children of their own. It was clear by the looks on the faces of my comrades that I was not the only one who was confused by his claims.

Even if he did, Odin was our King, and for an outsider to show up in Asgard and insult the throne, it was unacceptable. While I was angry at Odin for justifiable reasons, I did not hate him, and I would still fight to protect Asgard and her people. As I made a motion to step forward, Ephinea put out her hand to hold me back. When I tried to pass her still, she grabbed my arm, making her movements as small and unnoticeable as possible to keep from gaining the attention of the the outsider. She gave my wrist a gentle squeeze, trying to remind me without words that this wasn’t the right time. The small motions still pulled the attention of Ezra, and he glanced over at me in particular. His green eyes scanned over my body, and he smirked, “you’re just itching to kill me, aren’t you?” he asked before glancing back at Odin, “I see why you keep some of your best warriors chained up in the dungeons-like your son. It must be terrifying to have this one roaming around,” he said, gesturing to me.

A fury erupted in my chest as he mentioned Loki. I gritted my teeth, my chest continuing to rise and fall at an alarming rate. Still, I remained silent, not wishing to escalate the situation. Odin spoke up, “did you come here to discuss the population of Asgard’s dungeons, or do you have another motive?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow with a mischievous grin. He was pulling a page out of Loki’s book, smiling in the face of danger. It was one of the things that made me love Loki even more, and it made me see Odin as so much more than I had been willing to in the past. In that moment, he became so much more three-dimensional than ever before. While he had forsaken Loki in the past and made his own mistakes, there was a piece of him that still loved the young trickster. When I saw him find his confidence the way Loki did, it made me think of the impact Loki’s actions must’ve had on the Allfather. While I wished to speak with Odin about it, I knew that this was neither the time nor the place for such discussions.

Ezra cast one more glance over at me with a smirk that made me sick to my stomach, but he turned his attention back to Odin when I grimaced at him, “my father sent me with his demands. In his exile, he has been building allegiances with many people within the Nine Realms and beyond, and I can assure you that none of them are particularly fond of Asgard. They would be willing and able to tear Asgard apart at my father’s command, but he is willing to go about this peacefully,” Ezra stated in a menacing tone.

“And what does Cul want in return for his promise of peace?” Odin inquired.

Ezra chuckled, stepping forward, “he wants the throne back, the throne you stole from him,” he growled, pointing a finger at the Allfather, “he demands you hand over the throne of Asgard, and in return, you will be exiled to the Realm of Death just like you did to him. As I see it, you have two options: you can surrender and meet his demands, which will lead to a peaceful life for your people; or, you can resist, which will lead to our return and the subsequent bloodbath that will take place. Either way, we will take the throne of Asgard, but your decision could save thousands,” Ezra said, offering Odin the ultimatum as if he was in any position to do that. He came to Asgard with no supporters behind him and threatened a King with the entire Asgardian army at his disposal.

Odin smiled at the man in front of him, and I saw the condescending undertones, causing me to smile as well. While I harbored some ill will toward him upon recent news, I could not bring myself to hate him or declare that he was a poor king. He held himself with strength and dignity, which was something that would not work in the strangers favor, “you forget the third option,” he smirked, and Ezra cocked his head, clenching his fists, “it’s where I let your armies come, and I defeat Cul just like I did all those years ago. I had no problem doing it then, and I won’t fail now. You do not look for peace, but I pity you if you try to fight us. We know much about what must be sacrificed to maintain peace, and I do not wish for a war. However, I will do what needs to be done should your father attempt to wage a war against Asgard and her allies,” he explained, “so, you can tell my brother that his proposition was met with resistance.”

Ezra chuckled, stepping even closer to Odin. As soon as he was too close, the entire army behind us drew their weapons, but Odin raised a hand, wishing to entertain the boy for even longer. I listened to the warriors lower their weapons, but they did not put them back in the sheathe. I glanced down at Thor’s hands that were balled up in fists. Ezra leaned in close to Odin and spoke, “well, I came here for your surrender, and I’m not about to leave empty-handed,” he murmured before stepping away from the two of them and pointing at me. Once more, his eyes trailed along every piece of my body before locking eyes with me, “I’ll take that one,” he dictated, closing the space between the two of us.

Before he could stand directly in front of me, Ephinea stepped between the two of us, “try to take her, and I will rip you in half with my bare hands,” she threatened, rage clear in her voice. She had always been like an older sister to me, so it didn’t surprise me that she would react like that to someone who was threatening my safety.

Ezra glanced over at her but then back at me, “call off your dog, pet,” he instructed, cocking his head to the side with a smile filled with false admiration.

I scowled at the nickname he decided to give me, and I felt a chill run down my spine at the thought that I could be traded off to ensure peace, even if that peace would be short-lived. Odin’s stunned silence was not helping ease my troubled thoughts, but I had to act with strength and grace just as I always tried to, just as my father taught me all my life. I raised my hand and rested it upon Ephinea’s shoulder as I stepped out from behind her. She gazed over at me, horrified and flustered because of my actions. She had no idea what I was planning to do or why I was planning to do it, but I offered her a short glance that I hoped would set her mind at ease. When I stepped between her and Ezra, he didn’t break eye contact with me. He smirked, one of his eyes twitching ever so slightly as he narrowed them at me.

He searched my eyes-for what, I didn’t know-and when he didn’t find what he was looking for, he grabbed my chin and brought his face impossibly closer to mine, “tell me, what is it you want, pet? Do you wish for acceptance? Strength? Power? A real family? A place where you belong?” he asked, “I’m sorry to break your heart, but you won’t find any of that here, not with the current ruler. And, what about Loki? I’m sure you want him back, too, don’t you?” he asked, causing my breath to hitch in my throat. How did Ezra know about Loki? How did he know about my deepest desires? As I stared up at him with wide eyes, terrified that he was able to pick me apart so easily. He raised his eyebrows, sympathy crossing over his face, “you have so much to learn, beautiful, and if you cooperate, we’ll give you the answers you seek and the opportunity to live out the rest of your life with Loki,” he murmured before grabbing a fistful of my hair and pulling me even closer to him, “but should you fail, I will find your girl on Midgard and tear her apart in front of you just for fun!” he growled, my heart twisting and shattering into a million pieces before he pushed me down onto the ground.

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Thor’s loud voice boomed, almost like thunder itself. I could barely think of anything aside from Ezra’s threat. I was paralyzed with fear at the very idea that enemies of Asgard knew about her, that they could use her against me. Thor spoke as I tried to collect myself, “you are sorely mistaken if you think we’ll just hand her over to you. Now, we have entertained this madness for long enough. If you try to take her, you will not live to see another sunrise,” Thor promised, glancing down at me and nodding his head. I knew that I would have nothing to fear with Thor by my side. Even if Odin, for some reason, wanted to send me away, Thor would betray his father just to keep me safe.

Ezra chuckled again, laughing in the face of the God of Thunder, “I haven’t seen a sunrise in nearly 300 years,” he confessed, and a piece of my heart broke for him. I couldn’t help but see small pieces of Loki in him, the anger, the pain, the hate. I had nothing to compare Ezra to, though. I knew the man Loki used to be, so I knew that pieces of him were still alive. Still, everyone could be saved, and that included the enemies of Asgard. Ezra continued, “no matter! I’m used to taking what I want by any means necessary, and I don’t lose,” he said before unsheathing his axe in one swift motion and swinging it down toward Thor.

In the split second it took Ezra to begin the attack, I jumped up to my feet and drew Hellbreaker, one of the many swords my father had helped forge for me. Right before his blade could graze my prince, I stepped in front of it, catching the handle of his battleaxe with the blade of my sword and stopping him from hurting Thor. His eyes widened in clear astonishment. I was sure someone like him didn’t anticipate anything extraordinary, especially not from the person he nicknamed “pet” only moments prior. I pushed him away from the Thor and I, “you don’t lose?” I asked, grinning up at the intruder, “well, neither do I!”