#strangers who absolutely did not deserve that. and i called it activism because that was a reasonable excuse

[rabbithaver]

there is Discourse about whether it's morally okay to kill abusers on my dash. it's affecting me more than i would like

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Do you think Peeta strangling Katniss affects their relationship in the growing back together phase? Most seem to think it would be Peeta getting reassurance and comfort from Katniss but I find that a little wrong since it was her getting strangled and with the neck covered in bruises

Why does it have to be either one or the other needing/getting reassurance and/or healing from the strangling?

By the end of Mockingjay, both Katniss and Peeta are dealing with complex ptsd, which means both of them have an assortment, a complicated mess of traumas they have to sort through during the grow back together phase. That’s why it’s essential that both of them work with Dr Aurelius. So I absolutely believe that it does impact their relationship, at least a little. But there’s A LOT that is going to affect their relationship during the grow back together phase. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, it’s just a fact of living with ptsd.

I agree with your hypothetical “most” that Peeta would absolutely feel guilt and responsibility over his trying to strangle Katniss. He put his hands on her and physically hurt her, left her marked and unable to speak for a significant amount of time. She needed to be hospitalized for her injuries. As a person with childhood abuse in his past, who we can readily assume wanted to break that cycle of violence, Peeta would be devastated to learn that he did that to Katniss. Just like he was devastated seeing himself throw Mitchell into the barbed net in the Capitol. Hijacked or not, he’s going to have to come to terms with the fact that he did it. He’s going to need reassurance from Katniss over it, and would have to learn to forgive himself as part of their growing back together phase.

As for Katniss… what I’ve seen argued is that she was more concerned with the verbal hurts Peeta inflicted upon her when he was recovering from the hijacking than she was with the physical ones… which I can see the case for this textually. She doesn’t fixate on the strangling itself but on the words he speaks and how she thinks he sees her, the “real” her in her self-loathing, after his hijacking. She almost acts like she deserved that violence against her body.

But here’s the thing. If we can assume that Peeta never wants to repeat the abuse his mother heaped on him by abusing those he loves… he’s going to feel like shit for the things he said to her in his pseudo hijacked phase as well. Peeta internalizes the things his mother said about him. She calls him a “stupid, worthless creature” in Katniss’s memory of the bread flashback. And in Catching Fire, Peeta lashes out at Katniss and Haymitch for keeping secrets from him by saying “Like I’m too stupid or inconsequential” to understand or deserve the truth…

Inconsequential is another way of saying worthless, my friend. He repeats what we know his mother has said about him. Because on some level, he believes that it’s true… symptom of trauma and abuse, my friend.

So of course, even if Katniss fixates only on the cruel things that hijacked Peeta says to her rather than the physical act of strangling her, there are still going to be a host of issues they have to deal with, and eventually, they’re going to have to deal with the strangulation aspect as well.

And Peeta’s no stranger to lashing out physically either. In addition to verbally lashing out, Peeta also physically breaks a lamp in that CF scene. Some people will argue that it’s a stretch, but it is still an indicator of his anger on occasion manifesting as physical ACTION. Lest we forget, he somehow kills Brutus in the Quell, and Brutus is billed as one of the stronger, more ruthless Victor Tributes in that arena. Oh and by the way, Beetee had Peeta’s knife at the lightning tree. So what in the fuck was Peeta armed with when he killed Brutus? His bare hands?!?!

Now, Katniss might not actively fixate on those things during Mockingjay, but I find it highly likely that she would flinch or visibly react to the possibility of physical violence when post MJ Peeta gets angry or distraught… because she knows what he’s capable of and knows that he’s lashed out physically before. And that is absolutely going to affect them both.

Do I think Peeta is abusive towards Katniss? No. Absolutely not. I don’t think that at all. But lemme give you a real life example.

I’m married to someone with ptsd. Some of that is a result of having physical violence inflicted on him personally. Some of it is just from witnessing violence and its results in real life. Some of it is from existing for long periods of time in a place where he was constantly in danger of dying. I have never physically hurt him. But one time, shortly after he came home, I playfully smacked his arm (not even all that hard, Anon) while we were hanging a picture on the wall, we were laughing and teasing each other… and he legit froze, completely tense, and whispered “Don’t… don’t do that again.” I had triggered a flashback.

So there is no doubt in my mind that at some point, Everlark has to deal with Peeta triggering a flashback in Katniss to the moment he tried to strangle her.

Conclusion: It’s both of them that will have to deal with it, will need to heal and need reassurance. I just think that it is going to take a lot of work for both of them to process, deal with, and overcome the verbal and physical violence in their pasts. I think really, the discussion you’re probably seeing right now is simply an acknowledgment that Peeta, as loving and soft as he can be, is also fully capable of violence, and he knows it, and he’s going to have to deal with it. He’s no cream puff. He’s got fire in him and is fully capable of biting back. But acknowledging what he has to deal with in terms of him almost strangling Katniss isn’t necessarily a dismissal of what Katniss will have to deal with alongside him. She’ll just be dealing with it from a different aspect and probably at a different pace.

❤️ kdnfb

[erabundus]

@momijiba &&. said... 📂 📂📂📂 !!!

after  awakening  from  his  coma,  scaramouche  had  to  relearn  how  to  move  independently  of  his  own  will.  he  wasn't  supposed  to  ever  leave  the  machine  again  —  and  the  manner  in  which  he  tore  himself  free  was  effectively  the  worst  possible  way  he  could  have  ever  gone  about  doing  it.  the  tubes  were  attached  to  his  vitals;  he  damaged  much  of  his  internal  mechanisms  to  such  an  extent  he  very  well  could  have  "bled"  to  "death."  (  frankly,  he's  fortunate  that  he  didn't.  )  it  wasn't  only  the  shock  of  detaching  from  the  robot  that  made  him  fall  into  a  coma;  it  was  his  body  putting  all  unnecessary  functions  on  standby  so  it  could  focus  everything  it  had  on  making  what  repairs  he  needed  to  continue  living.

when  he  regained  consciousness,  he  could  barely  move.  everything  was  numb  —  the  most  he  could  really  register  was  unpleasant waves  of pins  and  needles.  (  which  understandably  distressed  him  even  more,  as  someone  who  relies  so  heavily  on  touch.  )  eventually his capacity to feel returned. however, he  had  to  slowly  build  up  the  strength  to  do  literally  anything  —  and  even  when  he  finally  could  pilot  his  own  body,  he  needed  to  figure  out  how  to  walk,  run,  jump,  everything  all  over  again.  he  doesn't  like  to  talk  about  it  because  it's  a  massive  blow  to  his  pride,  but  he  had  to  go  through some fairly strenuous  physical  therapy  to  make  a  complete  recovery. thanks nahida.

there  was  at  least  one  occasion  wherein  a  complete  stranger  thought  it  would  be  a  good  idea  to  (  flirtatiously  )  grab  ren  by  the  waist  /  hips without permission  and  his  first  instinct  was  to  punch  them  in  the  face  so  hard  they  swallowed  their  front  teeth.  at  the  time,  all  he  could  really  think  to  do  was  awkwardly  speed  walk  away  —  but  in  hindsight  he  feels  it's  amusingly  well-deserved.

and  speaking  of  ren  being  awkward ...  ren  is  very  awkward!  i  don't  know  if  i'm  able  to  properly  convey  just  how  off-putting  this  man's  vibes  are  in  any  given  social  situation.  it  probably  doesn't  come  through  as  clearly  in  threads  because  those  are  outliers  wherein  he's  forced  to  interact  with  other  people  by  design.  as  a  default,  he  just  perpetually  lurks  on  the  very  outskirts  of  any public  gathering.  (  the  "they  don't  know  [  insert  shitpost  here  ]"  meme  of  someone  standing  in  the  corner  at  a  party,  but  that's  just  ren  24/7.  )  mind,  he  isn't  necessarily  shy;  he  merely  possesses  absolutely  no  desire  whatsoever  to  interact  with  most  people.  if  you  try  to  make  eye  contact  with  him,  smile,  wave  and  so  on,  he  probably  won't  engage.  he  might  stare  at  you  a  little  —  don't  take  it  as  an  invitation  to  strike  up  a  conversation,  because  it  isn't. he's probably calling you names in his head. he's awkward, but he's not the glamorized cutesy kind of awkward. he's the weird guy who occasionally forgets to blink kind of awkward. if he wasn't small and relatively harmless looking, he would probably terrify a lot more people. scara certainly did.

he's  always  been  like  this,  too.  the  kabukimono  is  the  only  one  who  would  actively  put  forth  an  effort  to  interact  with  others  —  but  even  he  was  strange  and  unsettling  in  his  own  way.  scaramouche  and  ren  just  do  it  deliberately.

ren  is  actually  surprisingly  good  at  gambling  —  or  at  least,  what  aspects  of  it  are  skill  based.  luck  is  entirely  up  in  the  air  (  and  often  against  him,  all  things  considered  )  but  reading  other  people,  knowing  when  to  make  a  call,  weighing  probabilities  and  so  on  he  has  an  innate  proclivity  for.  he's  never  touched  genius  invokation,  but  if  you  tried  to  challenge  him  to  a  game  of  something  more  traditional  (  like  poker  )  there's  a  very  good  chance  he  will  destroy  you.

SEND 📂 FOR A RANDOM HEADCANON

[bottoms-movie]

SAMBUCKY FIC RECS

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

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

BASED ON TFATWS

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

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

Skip, Reverse | Explicit | 7,945 words

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, he realizes. Oh. Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

“Your ass looks great today!” Sam yells.

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

checklist | General | 4,716 words

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

best laid plans | 3 parts | 26,808 words

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Reconstitution | Not Rated | 10,228 words

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

“I don’t follow,” Bucky says.

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

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

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

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

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

His Touch | Mature | 1,006 words

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

Bucky just wants Sam to comfort him.

rusted | Teen | 2,358 words

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

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

‘You busy?’

‘’m scouring the—’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

CANON DIVERGENCE

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

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

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

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

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

leftovers | Mature | 19,249 words

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

Partners | Explicit | 7,235 words

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

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

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

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

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

Night Swimming | Teen | 2,056 words

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

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

And then -

“I can cut my own damn hair.”

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

Dared Bucky to prove him wrong.

AU

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

The reporter says "—for Captain America to—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stolen Moments | Teen | 98,767 words

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[popi-the-fatui]

CHILDE BF HCs

(that no one asked for but here they are anyways)

A/N: this man needs some luv. Long post, there is a whole iceberg under the “read more”. Also, I tried to keep a Gender Neutral reader so pls DM me if there are any mistakes!!

TW: DESCRIPTION OF AN ANXIETY ATTACK, SPOILERS FOR THE REX LAPIS QUEST AND CHILDE’S PAST, a little bit of angst

🐋 Let’s bust some myths first: contrary to popular belief, Childe has no experience at relationships or intimacy at all. Non. Cero. The Venn diagram of romantic/intimate stuff and things Childe has done is a void. But it’s not that he doesn’t want to, it’s just that he hasn’t had the time to experience any of these things because he is a busy man: between fighting, training and being a Harbinger, there is not a minute left for him to indulge in other things. 

🐋 The problem with this is that Tartaglia is a people’s person. He WANTS to be able to have someone that he can do these things with. At the end of the day, when he comes home tired after a mission, all he wants is someone to be waiting for him with cuddles, hugs, kisses, reassurance, caresses, or just a simple “how did your day go?” Because of this, he has a lot of pent-up love that he has not been able to give. 

🐋 In that note, he is also incredibly touch-starved: not only does he want someone to give that love to, but Childe also craves to receive it. When was the last time he was touched by someone in a context that was not a fight? He loves fighting, obviously: he has trained for a big part of his life to be able to defeat everything and everyone. But he is also just a human, and there are limits to how long a person can go without a loving touch. 

🐋 So when he finally falls victim to the first signs of infatuation, this poor whale man will have an internal battle: do I reach for them? Would they be better off if they never meet me? Will they accept me? Has my reputation already ruined this for me before it even began? How do I approach them? Do I look presentable? Am I going to scare them away? Childe will be torn between wanting to protect you from himself (as the Fatui business is not an easy pill to swallow for everyone) and protect himself from you (his heart would not handle rejection/disgust very well), and wanting to KISS YOU AND HUG YOU AND KNOW MORE ABOUT YOU BECAUSE ARGH WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO ADORABLE.

🐋 So he finally decides to compromise between these two stances, and let YOU decide whether you want him as a friend, a lover or a stranger. He starts greeting you whenever he sees you in the streets, subtly asking if you would like him to join you in your commissions, inviting you for lunch/dinner after a mission so you can recharge your energy, asking if you want to go and share drinks with him and Zhongli. You know, friendly stuff friends do. And he doesn’t even try to hide the happy smile that escapes him whenever you say yes to him: when it comes to you, there is nothing he needs to hide. Well, except for that one thing. 

🐋 He knows that you know he is somehow associated with the Fatui, if his constant trips to the Northland Bank aren’t enough to tell. Usually, Childe dislikes going around things as he much rather hit straight to the point (being the point a fight, a deal or just a simple conversation). But he has grown so addicted to the sensations you make him feel that he can’t help but to try to postpone that tiny little detail about himself for later. He has never had anyone who genuinely wants to spend time with him and that can keep up with him. Childe knows he can be quite intense and that rumors about him aren’t really rumors but WARNINGS, and to finally have someone, even if you’re just friends, that is actively trying to get to know the real him means so much, and he doesn’t want to let that go as selfish as he knows it is because there’s a chance you could get hurt (emotionally and physically). 

🐋 Unfortunately for him, everything that goes up must go down, and that fateful day comes when his plans to take Rex Lapis’ Gnosis blows back to him. After that brief, tense conversation with La Signora and Zhongli, Childe’s ego can’t be any lower: it’s not often that he loses, and much less often that he loses while feeling like a fool. He wants to scream, fight, punch, kick. Anything to take out the impotence and anger he is feeling right now. 

🐋 You found him in this state while you were looking for him to see if he was alright because a WHOLE ASS PALACE JUST FELL FROM THE SKY and you’re very concerned for him as you haven’t had any news directly from him and all you know is that apparently Childe was the cause of it?

🐋 As soon as he sees you, his blood-lust disappears and he no longer wants to fight something: he wants to cry from shame. Shame at being found in this state. Shame at failing. Shame at what you would think of him now that the cat’s out of the bag because from the look in your face is EVIDENT that now you know how far his relationship with the Fatui goes. 

🐋 He falls to the ground, tears finally coming out and he is crying ugly sobs while hiccuping nonsense about how he is a weak, pathetic, disgusting failure and it’s not fair it’s not FAIR IT’S NOT FAIR IT’S NOT-

🐋 “Look at me” you softly call to him, but he is panicking and hyperventilating and not responding to anything that’s outside of his head, so you decide to sit on your knees in front of him, gently cupping his face with your hands, caressing his tears away with your thumbs. 

🐋 “Childe, look at me. Please?” You try again, carefulness in your tone as to not startle him. And when he finally reacts and looks up, you don’t see Tartaglia the 11th Harbinger, nor Childe the fatui flirt. All you see is a broken man that carries the weight of the world on his shoulders, exhausted from constantly fighting against everything the world has thrown at him, and your heart aches for him and wonders how long this man has suffered alone, how long has he suffered in silence. 

🐋 “It’s okay, Childe. You’re okay. Can you breathe for me?” You position yourself behind him and put your hands on his shoulders, rubbing circles with your fingers to further calm him. “Breath with me, yeah just like that. Now hold it for a bit and then release it. Keep going, I’ll do it with you. I’m here”

🐋 Childe finds himself finding it easier to breathe with each inhale and exhale, and when he is finally going down from his high, catharsis hits him HARD. Is this what he has been missing all of his life? Is releasing all that pent-up frustration supposed to feel this good? And he feels a little selfish, because he knows he doesn’t deserve your comfort after the stunt he pulled, but Childe can’t help but become putty under your tender touches and your soft words, and he wishes for a different context, for a different past in which he never fell into the abyss, never joined the Fatui, never felt that the only way to survive was to fight. Instead, he wishes for a past in which he is traveling because he wants to, and he meets you, and he courts you and makes your cheeks heat up at something he said. And you are not touching him because he had a panic crisis that he himself caused. No, he imagines the both of you after a dinner date in Liyue. The sky is dark and the stars are shining but the streets are still full of people laughing and talking and the light from the lamps are reflecting beautifully in your hair. You are walking near the harbor, and you are holding his hand and he is giving you a kiss on your forehead because he can’t help himself. In another life, he would have found you and loved you the way you deserve and the way he needs. 

🐋 But he knows that now is too late, and all he has left is a mind full of regret because he did, in fact, hurt you. How could you trust him after this? How could you WANT him after this? So imagine his surprise when the first thing that comes out of your mouth is a soft “Are you ok now, Childe?”

🐋 “I- how- what?” He mutters in disbelief. Why are YOU asking HIM that? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?

🐋 “You had me very worried back there. I thought you would stop breathing at any moment. You are not hurt, are you?”

🐋 And he laughs. A high-pitched, almost maniac laugh. “You know I was the cause of all of…” he says, moving his arms to signal, well, everywhere “...this, right? I believe you now must know what my real business in Liyue was, and that I’m not just some random Fatui officer”

🐋 “Well… I kind of suspected it? How many ‘random Fatui officers’ are carrying a Vision, huge amounts of Mora and have so many ‘meetings’ at the Northland Bank with the Qixing themselves? I mean, I didn’t know you were a Harbinger, but I did know that you were a higher up in the organization. I’m not dumb, you know?” you answer light-heartedly. 

🐋 “Then why would you keep hanging out with me? If you knew all of that, then you for sure must have known that people tend to keep me in a ‘do not trust’ list. People are wary around me, and they should! If you knew of the things I’ve seen, the things I’ve DONE. The reputation surrounding the Fatui, especially the Harbingers, wasn’t built on nothing, you know?”

🐋 “Don’t get me wrong. I do have somewhat of an idea of the things you do for a living. And let me be clear: I certainly do not condone it. And to be honest, I know that things between us would be easier if you weren’t a Fatui and I actually wish you weren’t one” you can feel how his whole body deflated at that, and even if you are sitting behind him, you just know he has a pout on his face, so you resolve for hugging him from behind and rest the side of your face between his shoulder blades, and continue. 

🐋 “But in the past weeks, I also had the opportunity to get to know you. Not Fatui you. But human you. I know that you have a family that you love very much and you do everything in your power to protect them. I know that you haven’t had it easy, and that some scars you have still hurt. I know that you absolutely can’t eat with chopsticks, but your pride refuses to give up and you try anyway. I know that you’re a passionate man that holds his dearest people close to his heart. I know that you hate when I’m sad so you’re willing to make a fool of yourself if that means I’ll end up laughing. I know how you wait outside of my building until my window lights up after you get me home so you are sure nothing happened to me. I know by the way you sometimes disassociate from the world around you that you are thinking of home and returning to your family” as you speak, you feel something wet falling on your upper arms, and realize that Childe is silently crying. You have half a mind to stop, but you also know that he needs to hear this, so you tighten your hug a little in reassurance. 

🐋 “I also know that whenever I see you with a new wound, I can’t help but worry for you and my first instinct is to check if you are okay. I’m now familiar with the way my heart skips a beat whenever I get to see one of your genuine smiles, especially when the reason behind them is that you get to spend some time with me. I know my eyes soften when I see you talking about something you’re passionate about. The truth is, I care for you, Childe. I really do, Fatui or not. Harbinger or not. And yes, while I would rather you not be one, I still can’t help but long for your company because you make me happy. Because I love you. So don’t underestimate me. I’m strong and so are my feelings. You being a Fatui is not gonna change that”. After this, you two sit in silence for a few minutes, but it’s not an awkward one despite your confession. You know he is gathering his thoughts so you move one of your arms that is wrapped around Childe’s torso to card your fingers through his hair, mindful of the knots that had appeared after the battle. If he doesn’t believe your words, then you sure hope he trusts your actions. 

🐋 Childe is the one who breaks the silence when he asks “How could you possibly love someone like me?”. If you weren’t sitting that close to him, you wouldn’t have heard it. He says this so softly, so gently, almost as if he was trying to convince himself and not you. 

🐋 “Silly boy” you laugh warmly. “Did you hear anything I just said?” You ruffle his hair, and finally, FINALLY, you can hear him giggle a little. “You don’t get to decide who I love. That’s my choice, and I choose to love you”

🐋 No kisses were shared that day. No grand, magnificent romantic gestures were made. Only the silent promise of two young lovers to love and cherish each other as they were. And maybe, just maybe, you could work things out, together, to build yourselves a brighter future. 

🐋 So after all has been said and done: congrats! You are now the proud s/o of Teyvat’s biggest simp. 

🐋 Childe is your number one fan. Everything you do is carefully recorded in his mind for later use. He has to go on a mission away from you? Be prepared to be pampered and being taken on several dates the previous week so this clingy man has something to hold on to. 

🐋 Also: he is shameless. He will not be afraid of making out with you in plain daylight on a busy street. But fear not! If you happen to not be a fan of PDA, he will try to be low-profile. You are, afterall, a person he treasures and can’t live without, so your comfort comes before his needs. Now, I say “try” because he will still demand to hold your hand and give you the random kiss on your cheek. 

🐋 HUGS. FROM. BEHIND. Watch him giving you hugs like Oprah. You are buying something? Cooking? Chilling? Expect to feel a pair of long limbs wrapping from behind you in a tight hug like a koala. It’s his hourly vibe check. 

🐋 Very jealous and protective of you. He is very afraid that one day you’ll realize there are plenty of people better than him and you’ll leave him, so please remind this simp that he is more than enough for you. 

🐋 He also has nightmares from the time he spent in the abyss and will take sometime for him to realize that he is no longer there, so give him a few minutes for him to come to his senses and then please for the love of the Tsaritsa cuddle the life out of him. Also on this note, I have the headcanon that he prefers being the little spoon. That, or facing each other and he rests his face in the crook of your neck while leaving little pecks there. 

🐋 Also you discover, to your surprise and as stated at the beginning , that this man has absolutely no idea how to do relationships. To compensate for this and to give you only the best of the best (as you deserve), he spends time in his travels to read romantic novels to have an idea of what to do, so don’t be surprised if he says or does something corny or cringey. 

🐋 The most chaotic “meet the family” you’ll ever have. As soon as he takes you to Snezhnaya, you will have all of his siblings running and tackling you into a bear hug (he sends A LOT of letters to his family about you and if you read them you would not be sure if he is talking about you or a deity).

🐋 He also tries to keep you out of anything regarding the Fatui. It’s a relief that you finally know about how deep his person runs in the organization, but he also wants to spare you from the details of what he does unless something is really bothering him. 

🐋 All in all, this golden retriever is your biggest hype man and the most loyal boyfriend. You will never get bored with Childe, as everyday is an adventure with him and he will make sure you to make you as happy and loved as you make him feel.

[musashi]

i dont know who needs to hear this but being unpersoned online is a legitimately traumatic experience. i was diagnosed professionally with PTSD in 2011 after some ex-friends of mine made a massive callout post on deviantart where they called me slurs, suicide baited me, and made fun of my struggles with addiction & alcoholism, as well as just fucking lambasting me for being visibly autistic. they did this under the moral guise of "outing a toxic friend" when in reality my biggest crime was literally just being 15 years old, struggling with mental health, and just being kind of obnoxious. They then followed me, like pathologically so, from social media to social media in an attempt to justify their obsessive harassment of me, lurking every blog I had and methodically collecting evidence as to why I deserved to be unpersoned, attacked, and stalked.

The accusations ran the gamut, from abuse to Nazism to pedophilia. Literally every horrible thing they could think of and construe my posts to be about. At the height of it we had to pull my preteen sibling out of school because of the threats and doxxing.

This has literally never stopped. I am now nearly 30 and just by virtue of having some meaningless internet clout I am still constantly singled out and harassed. I had a kiwifarms thread at one point and I was told it was quite active.

Obviously, as time goes on I learn how to cope with the PTSD and the OCD I developed much later. The good news about all this is that it does not meaningfully affect my quality of life anymore. Making friends is not hard, most of them have not heard about what fringe weirdos are saying about some nobody, and thankfully it also shields me because anyone who DOES engage with call-out posts is not someone I would ever in a million years want to associate with. So overall, a net win.

But like, that can coexist with the fact that I lost my fucking adolescence and early adulthood to online harassment. Literally whole chunks of my developmental years. Just fucking gone, dude. And even if I can cope with it, that doesn't mean I want to have to. I want to just live a comfortable, normal life, where I don't have to think about freaks all circle jerking about some nonsense crime I did not commit, or some harmless thing I said that they have decided is worth stripping me of my humanity over.

All this to say, your lead poisoning jokes are not fucking funny? That situation was not some haha funny silly goofy moment for Wendy. I have to not react to it because if I react to it I will be unpersoned harder, look at how bothered this freakazoid is over fandom lolololol etc. But the fact of the matter is hundreds of people decided to unperson, harass, lie about, and degrade me simply because I had an entirely unremarkable headcanon about a fictional villain. The headcanon humanized him. And they were mad about that, and chose to unperson me for it.

Regardless of where it comes from, fandom or not, that is traumatic. I don't understand why I have to explain to people that that is traumatic. Whole groups of those people on Twitter still stalk me, post screenshots of me having fun to laugh at, and refer to me solely as "the lead poisoning guy," and not by name. I am literally not a person to them, but something to point and laugh at. And if I advocate for myself or react, I become even more of a joke.

Please do not fucking make jokes about it at me? Unless we are VERY close friends and you were one of the people who was there for me when I was dealing with that. If you are a stranger you have absolutely no right to fucking make jokes about a horrible experience of mine and then cover your ass with "bro it's just a joke!!!" My feelings are not a fucking joke.

people on this website can be so mean for no reason

[sunmoonandeddie]

who you are and who you’ve been

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 8,490

summary: Sometimes love takes a little longer to find you.

warnings: SMUT.  Mention of past abusive relationship, drinking, swearing.

a/n:  Thank you so much to @zeilenkrieg for commissioning this and being so patient while I wrote it!!

“Mama!  Mama!  You here?”

You sighed as you looked up from your coffee, seeing your daughter coming through the living room.  She had on that pair of daisy dukes that she stole from your wardrobe—the ones you used to wear in the heat of summer, a white shirt tied to let the sun on your tummy.  You used to scandalize your own mama with that outfit… 

You had argued with her that she had worn the same kind of outfit back in the seventies, and that vintage was in.  But she liked to wear hers with cowboy boots and you preferred it with a good pair of sneakers.

God, you missed being young…  Your twenties had been absolutely wild, even if they had started out with that horrible pandemic in 2020.

You still washed your hands after touching almost anything.  An instinct that never went away.

That year and the couple years before had been… insane.  But at least it incited real change in the world.  The people had learned from their mistakes, at least for now.

History did have a habit of repeating itself.  Humans were fickle, forgetful creatures like that.

“Yes, honey bun?” You said as you stood up, moving to hug her.

At thirty-seven years old, she was the only good thing that ever came out of your marriage.  That, and knowing how to wash blood out of clothing.

The only problem was that by the time you’d finally left him, you had no friends left.  You were in your forties by then, with no family besides your daughter, and no friends left to speak of.  You hadn’t even had Facebook at the time to keep in touch with old schoolmates from university.  And by then, what was the point?  They were all leading completely different lives and probably hadn’t spared you a thought in at least a decade.

“When’s the last time you left the house?” She asked, her hands on her hips in a stance that reminded you so much of yourself that it scared you.

Now that… that was hard to answer…  You honestly didn’t think you’d be able to remember.  You got practically everything delivered, you worked from home… 

Shaking your thoughts away, you shot her a look.  “I’m fine right where I am.”

“Your doctor called and said you haven’t been taking your medication.”

“Fuckin’ snitch,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you turned back to the window, staring down at the now cold coffee.

Josephine rolled her eyes.  “He said you haven’t picked up your refill in over two months.”  She came over to stand next to you, staring out the window with you for a long time.  “Mama, you’ve gotta take your medicine…  You remember what happened last time…”

Ah, yes, the infamous incident.

Which was an incident in a long line of incidents.

There had been a… few times when you’d stopped taking your medication—either intentionally or simply because you had forgotten—and it had resulted in a stay in the psych ward at the local hospital.  It had happened far too many times for your daughter to not be in contact with your doctor so she would be informed if you had stopped getting your refills.

You didn’t blame her, of course.  But it did make you feel like a horrible mother.  One who couldn’t even take care of herself to the point where your daughter had to.

“Yes, I remember last time,” you sighed, staring at a cardinal.  “You know, my mama used to tell me that if you see a cardinal, a loved one who’s passed is visiting you…”

“Mama, I signed you up for a seniors’ social club.”

You blinked.

And then, you blinked again.

You turned to look at your daughter, disbelief written all over your face.  “No the fuck you did not.  I swear to all that is holy, Josephine Ann, if you signed me up for one of those… those… pre-death support groups, I’ll tan your hide!”  You gasped as some of your coffee splashed onto your sweatshirt.  “I brought you into this world, and I sure as hell can take you out of it!”

“You’ve been saying that since I was two,” She said, taking your arm and guiding you to sit down at the kitchen table.  “And it’s not a pre-death support group.  I feel like that’s offensive somewhere so make sure you don’t go running around the group saying that.”  Josephine used a paper napkin to dab at the coffee on your sweatshirt, muttering about throwing it into the wash and getting you a new one.

This was what you meant by your daughter taking care of you.

“Josie, really, I can get my own sweatshirt.”

“Doesn’t mean you gotta,” she said as she came back with a new one, helping you change.

Sometimes you felt like she thought you were a hundred years old.

“Honestly, mama…  I just want you to be happy…  You should have friends.  You shouldn’t be cooped up in this house all day, all the time.”

“What do I need friends for when I’ve got you?  And Danny?” You asked.

But you had been hit with the sudden reality that except for Josephine and her girlfriend, you were alone.  Completely, and utterly, alone.  Hell, they were the only people you had ever invited over to the tiny one bedroom you owned.

Repairmen didn’t count because they were there to do a job, not keep you company.

God, you had wanted more than this, once upon a time.  You had once had dreams, of maybe being a writer and making the New York Times’ Bestsellers List, of a husband who adored you and brought you flowers every Friday, of lazy Sundays eating waffles on the couch with the love of your life.

But life didn’t end up the way you had dreamed it.  There were no book signings or meetings with editors… there were no gardenias… and there was no smell of waffles and syrup.

And you’d made your peace with that.

Sort of.

Josephine’s arms wrapped around you as she rested her head against yours.  Like a mirror of yourself, she was, from her face down to her toes.

Thank god.  She didn’t deserve to have to look in the mirror and see reflections of her father.

“Will you at least try it?” She asked gently, her hand running up and down your arm, her freshly manicured nails tickling your skin.  “It’s not like a pre-death support group, as you call it…  It’s for seniors or people who are approaching seniority and are still active and want to go out and have fun, but maybe need some friends to do it with.  Please?”

And how could you say no when she wanted something so badly?

“Alright,” you said after a moment.  “I’ll go once.  And if it’s horrible, I’m not going back.  And I’m gonna tell Danny how you forced me to meet a bunch of strangers.”

She squealed excitedly, running off to your bedroom and going through your closet.  “Okay, the first thing the group is doing is having a first meeting at a bar, and we’re gonna get you all done up.”

Oh, good.  She was going all in.

“When’s the first meeting?” You asked as you sat on the bed, leaning back on your hands as you watched her.

“Tonight.”

Uh.  What?

“TONIGHT?!” You shouted in shock as you jumped up.  “What?!  You didn’t think to ask me about this a few days ago?!”

She snorted, picking out a few tops that you hadn’t worn in what felt like decades.  “I signed you up this morning, I didn’t know about it a few days ago.”

You watched in exasperation as she threw article after article of clothing onto the bed for you to try on.  “I don’t think I need to wear four pairs of jeans to a bar,” you said, beginning to pick up a few of the pieces.

Josephine gave you a look as she continued.  “Considering how long it’s been since you’ve been out, I think it’s fair that some of these might not fit anymore.”

Well, you had lost some weight…  Not necessarily in a healthy way, but she was right.

In the end, she ended up shoving you into the bathroom and forced you to do a full shower—which meant body and hair.

You hadn’t even gone to such lengths when you were going on your first date with her father.

She spent hours on your hair and makeup, chattering away excitedly about the vacation her and Danny were planning.  A South American cruise.

Josephine had never married, never had kids.  Never wanted to after seeing what her daddy had put you through.  It left a sour taste in her mouth, and even though it was legal now, her and her girlfriend hadn’t breathed a word of a wedding.

Though, you suppose they had a common law marriage at that point, if lesbians were included in it.

“Perfect,” she said as she got you to slip on an old jacket of yours that was a little too big.  “Come on.  I’ll drive you and pick you up.”

“Oh, honestly,” you snorted as you grabbed the purse Josephine had shoved all your things into.  “You’d think I could take an Uber.”

The bar wasn’t what you had expected when she had first told you that’s where the meeting was going to be held.  The last bars you’d been to had practically been nightclubs.

But this was… upscale.  Sophisticated.

Now you understood just why she had put so much work into making you look presentable.

It didn’t look like anyone else was there yet, even though most of the patrons were around your age, so you took a seat at the bar, the group’s site pulled up on your phone.

“What can I get for you, miss?” The bartender asked as he set down a coaster in front of you.

A snort erupts from your throat as you look at him.  “You always call women as old as me miss?”

“Oh, come on, you’re a catch,” he said, shooting you a playful wink.  “My dad’s single, you know.  If you were… looking.”

“Thank you, but I’m not,” you said gently, your cheeks flushed.  “Can I get a Manhattan?”

The bartender nodded, gracefully backing off the subject of you possibly dating his father.  And barely a minute and a half later, there’s a perfectly made Manhattan set on your coaster.

You’d barely taken a sip before someone came up beside you.  “Do you have Macallan’s 18 Year Sherry Oak?” A man asked.  At the bartenders confirmation, he hummed.  “Can I get a double on the rocks?”

The bartender dropped a large ball of ice into a glass before pouring two shots of whiskey over it and handing it to the man.

“Macallan’s, huh?” You said softly, your heart pounding.  Josephine had told you to make friends.  That was the whole point of this, even if the man wasn’t part of the social club you’d been forced into.  “You know your whiskeys.”

The tall man took a seat beside you, his eyes boring into the side of your face.  You hadn’t dared look at him yet.  “I’ve always preferred those who choose a Manhattan over a martini any day.”

“And why is that?” You asked, finally looking up at him.

And oh, you wished you hadn’t.  He was… stunning.  The very definition of male beauty.  His salt and pepper hair reminded you of the photos of the men in the forties…  The 1940s, that is.  Blue eyes so striking that you lost your breath, and broad shoulders that you knew would haunt your dreams.  He was wearing a glove on his left hand for some reason, but you didn’t linger on it too long.

But at least he was at least your age, if not a little older.  You’d die if you’d just sort of flirted with a twenty-something asshole who just bought expensive whiskeys for the sake of buying expensive whiskeys to show that he had money to blow.

“Martini drinkers think they’ll get some kind of award for their choice of drink,” he said, “as though choosing a drink that generally tastes like shit is some kind of accomplishment.  Unless you’re just taking a shot, a drink should taste good.”  He looked you up and down, letting his pretty blues linger on your lips.  There were faint crow feet at the corners of his eyes, but they just seemed to make him even more handsome.  “And a Manhattan doesn’t need a fancy whiskey.  It is steady and sure even with the cheapest five dollar bottle you can get from a gas station.  Someone whose drink of choice is a Manhattan is sure of who they are and what they want.”

You hadn’t felt this hot under a man’s gaze in decades.  “Really?”  Swallowing around the lump in your throat, you took another sip of your drink to buy you a moment.

“Mmm…”  He stole one of the two cherries from your drink, biting it off the stem.  You were transfixed as he slipped the stem into his mouth, sticking his tongue out about thirty seconds later with a perfect cherry stem knot on display.  “Really.  I’m James.  What’s your name?”

Butterflies filled your stomach as you gave him your name.  God, you felt like you were sixteen again and being flirted with for the first time.

His eyes flicked down to your open phone that rested on the bar, the social club’s page still up.  “You’re here for the meeting, too?”

“Um…  Yes,” you said, ducking your head.

“But, doll…”  He leaned towards you, a charming smile on his lips.  “You don’t look a day over thirty-five.  Are you sure you’re a senior?”

Blinking, your mouth hung open in a soft o.  “Are you planning on flirting with every woman in the club like this?”

James looked around dramatically, his gloved hand resting over his heart.  “A club?!  Is that what you call this place?” He asked, mockingly serious.  “Damn, what does that make all those dirty, gross places these young kids go to now?  Brothels?”

For some reason, you felt comfortable enough to shove his shoulder, surprised a little at the feeling of metal under his jacket sleeve.

For the first time, he looked a bit… uncomfortable.  He had flinched a bit, his bright eyes focused surely on his drink.  “Um…”

“You’re the Winter Soldier.  James Barnes,” you said curiously, your head tilting to the side as you looked at him.  “I thought I recognized you from somewhere.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Mmhm,” you drawled, taking the cherry left in your drink and biting it off in a way that you hoped was alluring.  “Though, I gotta say, it is a bit awkward to meet the man I wrote two papers about in high school.”

Shit, his laugh was beautiful.  Everything about him was beautiful.  Like Apollo or something...

James’s head was thrown back in laughter.  His cheeks were flushed, his eyes squeezed shut.  “Did you actually write two papers about me?” He asked as he tried to catch his breath.  At your nod, he smirked, leaning in close again.  “What did you write about?  How devilishly handsome I am?”

You couldn’t believe you were saying this.  “I mean, I can show you the papers and actually let you read them, but they’re at my place.”

Before he could pick his jaw up off the ground, there were other seniors in the group coming up to greet you.  Your throat was dry as the Sahara as you turned to face them, plastering on a smile as you tried to ignore the heated gaze on your face and the way he licked his lips.

The meeting was… long.  Boring.

Or at least, that’s how it felt when you had James’s dark, sultry eyes on you the entire goddamn time.

Mind fuzzy, you vaguely remembered agreeing to come to the next meeting, and even signing up for a hiking trip they were taking the next weekend.

As you headed outside, you felt Bucky’s hand slip into yours, his long, calloused fingers intertwining with yours.  “So…  Am I gonna get to come over and… read those papers?” He murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

God, you could practically feel yourself bursting into flames.  You weren’t gonna survive.

Thank god your daughter had forced you into a full shower.

But what about how dirty your house was sure to be?

“Um…  Y-Yeah,” you said as you turned to look at him.  “But, my daughter is gonna be driving me home…  I don’t want her to know I’ve got someone coming over.  She’s nosey.  Real…  Real nosey.”

“Of course, darlin,’” he chuckled.  “Here, why don’t I give you my phone number, and you shoot me a text with your address when you’re ready for me to come over?”

Your head was swirling as you got into your daughter’s car, your phone burning a hole in your purse.

“How was it?” Josephine asked nervously once you got about halfway home.  She couldn’t tell from the look on your face.  “Did you like it?”

“Hm?  Yeah.”  Swallowing, you shot a text to James with your name, telling him you’d text him when it was all clear.

“Are you gonna go again?”

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

She seemed both dissatisfied and pleased by your vague answers.  At least you were getting out of the house.

Once you got home and said goodbye, it was a mad dash to ensure that your house was clean as could be.  Josie had put in some work while you’d been gone, it seemed.  She’d done the dishes and the laundry, as well as dusted.

Thank fuck.

You struggled for a solid twenty minutes to put fresh sheets and pillowcases on the bed, lighting two candles and placing them in a manner that you hoped seemed natural.

“Shit,” you cursed as you smelled under your arms.

Okay, quick body shower.  It seemed all that flirting had made you a tiny bit sweaty.

You turned the water to scalding and scrubbed your body down, exfoliating and using your best scented body wash.

And to be quite frank, you’d never shaved your lady bits as quick as that.

As you texted him your address and that it was safe to come over, you pulled on your clothing from the bar (though, you did put on nicer, matching lingerie underneath.)  By the time he’d gotten there, you’d downed two shots of tequila for a bit of liquid courage and had poured yourself a glass of wine.

“Hey, baby doll,” he said, a crooked grin on his face as you welcomed him inside.  His glove had been abandoned, and black metal fingers lined with gold glittered in the light.  “Woah…  You know, I wasn’t sure how your place was gonna look, but this is very… you.”

“Oh, really?” You asked as you offered him a glass of wine, which he gratefully took.  “How so?”

“I don’t know,” he chuckled as he swirled the deep red liquid in its glass.  “It’s cozy.  Sweet.”

Your throat was dry as you watched his adam’s apple bob as he took a drink.  “Um… so those papers…”

Bucky whispered your name, moving closer to you as he set the wine glass down on the counter.  “Baby girl, I’m not really here for the papers, am I?” He asked as your back hit the island.  “If I am…  If I am, then just tell me, and I’ll stop this.”  His slightly chapped lips ghosted against yours like the tease he was.  “Am I here just for the papers?”

“No,” you breathed out, before pressing your lips against his in a firm kiss at last.  His breath was minty and cool, with just a touch of the wine you’d been sharing, like he’d brushed his teeth before coming over just like you had.

Could it be possible he was just as nervous as you were?

But he was perfect?  Why the hell would he be nervous?

Your thoughts were cut short as he reached down, his hands firmly grabbing your ass as he lifted you up and set you on the counter.  “That’s a good girl,” he growled as he kissed down your neck, his hands working at your blouse.  “Couldn’t stop thinking about you during that whole stupid fucking meeting.  Just wanted to kiss you.  Just wanted to… to touch you.”  He pulled back, kissing you fiercely as his hands moved from your blouse to hold your face again.  “You gonna let me touch you, angel?”

A whine escaped your throat as you nodded, desperately yanking at his shirt.  Once it was off, you didn’t hesitate to run your hands over the broad planes of his chest.  He wasn’t quite as toned as you remembered from when you were younger, when you used to (occasionally) stalk (lightly) his social media accounts.  There’d been so many pictures of him on vacation with the other Avengers… all tanned and toned…

But you liked this better.  There was a softness to him now, a gentleness.

You were so distracted by his physique that you didn’t notice he’d gotten your shirt and bra off until the cold air hit your chest.  “Fuck,” you mumbled as his lips found your neck, trailing down to your breasts.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been kissed, let alone the last time you’d had such… attention.

Especially when his hands worked your pants off and he stood between your legs, moaning as his fingers tickled your thighs.  “You’re so beautiful,” he said as his lips wrapped around one nipple, suckling at it and teasing until it was diamond hard, and he moved on to the other.

Gotta be fair, after all.

“James…”

“Fuck, baby girl…  Never been with a woman as beautiful as you,” he growled, kissing down your tummy.  “You’re not making it out of here without orgasming at least twice,” he warned jokingly.  He was half bent over in front of the island, watching in wonder as he slowly pulled your silk panties down your legs and revealed your aching core to him.

“I-If you’re not comfortable standing like that, w-we can move somewhere else,” you stammered, suddenly growing self conscious.  What if he thought your pussy was weird?  Granted, you’d overcome thinking that when you were in your early twenties, after learning that each one looked different.

But he was born in the forties.

But that meant he’d probably seen an exponential amount of pussies!

Oh, god, there was no way you’d have anywhere near as much experience as him.  The only person you’d ever been with was your ex husband, and he wasn’t exactly the paradigm of lovers.

“Hey.”

You refocused with a shake of your head, your eyes meeting James’s.  “Yes?”

“You’re in your head,” he said softly, his forehead resting against yours as he slowly ran his fingers along your sensitive folds.  “There’s no need…  It’s just you and me, okay?  And you’re absolutely perfect.”

Your heart was melting inside your chest as you nodded, stealing a tentative kiss.  “Okay…  Just you and me.”

James nipped at your lower lip as he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist.  “Come on.  I don’t want our first time to be on a kitchen counter.  Though I make no promises I won’t help christen every inch of this house after,” he said with a playful growl.

You whispered directions to your bedroom as he held you tight to his chest, his lips finding purchase on your neck.  “And here I thought you said the super soldier serum was wearing off,” you joked.

The man snorted as he pushed you up against the hallway wall.  “Trust me, doll, no lack of super soldier serum is gonna stop me from fucking you right,” he said, his voice husky and deep.

Before you could even open your mouth to reply, two thick fingers were slipping inside of you to slowly tease your cunt, his lips ghosting over yours.  “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

You couldn’t find it in you to be embarrassed at the whimper that fell from your lips.  “Y-Yes.  Yes.  Please, I need more, James…”

James smiled into the kisses he’d been giving you.  “I’ll give you everything you want.”

“That’s a tall order.”  You threaded your fingers through his hair, shivering at the way his metal fingers dug into the plumpness of your ass.  “You sure you can fill it?”

He doesn’t respond with words, growling as he kisses you fiercely, carrying you to the bedroom.  You don’t have time to think before he’s crawling over you and kissing up your tummy to your lips.  “I need to be inside you,” He whispered as he stroked his length.

“Please…  Don’t wanna wait anymore,” you said.  Vaguely, you’re aware of the twinge in your knees from all the physical activity, and you knew you’d be sore as hell in the morning.

Fucking worth it, though.

James didn’t hesitate to line himself up, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance.  When he finally pushed in, unison moans fill the air.

“I…  I haven’t done this in… so long,” you finally admitted as he slowly pushed in more, taking his time.  Eyes locked, your mouth fell open in a soft ‘o’ as he bottomed out, his hips meeting yours.  “Oh, fuck…”

“Then I better do a real good job fucking you right.”

You weren’t quite sure how long you two lasted, but you do know he manages to pull three orgasms out of you in the space of just a few hours.  There’s snack and water breaks in between rounds, his cool metal hand running up and down your spine to cool you down as you two whisper in the dim light of your desk lamp.

You can’t remember a time that you’d felt so at peace.

A spark had been lit inside your chest as you two laid there in bed, legs intertwined.  Both of you were quiet, his fingers moving to caress your cheek.

There were no words that needed to be said.

His sea blue eyes are sparkling in the dim light, and your hand runs over the sharp stubble that lines his jaw.  It had certainly marked up your neck.

“I had intended on asking you on a date,” he said quietly as his hand found yours, bringing it to his mouth.  Chapped lips kissed each of your knuckles like you were something precious, something to behold.  “I didn’t think the five minutes or so before the meeting counted…  But I’d still like to take you on that date, if you’ll let me.”

“That sounds nice,” you said, a grin twinging at the corners of your lips.

“Yeah?” He asked, sitting up a bit as his fingers brushed against your forehead.

“Yeah.”  A giggle escaped your lips as he playfully tackled you, starting yet another round as his hips rolled down against yours.

The next morning, you woke up alone.  The sheets beside you were mussed, though the space James had been occupying was still a bit warm.

Jazz music floated down the hall, through the cracked door, and you could vaguely hear the clinking of pans.

It took you a minute to gather the will to get yourself out of bed and find your robe, but you finally did it.  As your feet hit the ground and you pushed yourself to a stand, you winced.

You had been right about feeling it in your knees.

You forced yourself to walk smoothly down the hall, despite how much it hurt.�� Embarrassing yourself in front of James was the last fucking thing you wanted to do.

He was in the kitchen, standing in front of the stove and humming along with the old jazz song playing on the Bluetooth speaker.  He had a pan full of pancake batter in front of him, a whole stack he’d already made on the side.

Standing in the doorway, you couldn’t help but grin as you watched him.  He’s so handsome… and he seemed so at home in your kitchen.  In your home.

Maybe he’d like to move in…

You shook your head, knowing that it’s already too much.

But the thought was nice.

Him in his pajamas, making coffee…  Him in your shower…  Him in your bed every night…  

Yeah.  It’s a really, really nice thought.

“Hi.”

James jumped, his eyes wide as he whirled round to face you.  “Hi.  I thought I had another thirty minutes before I had to go and wake you up,” he said.  “I’m making pancakes.  For you.  For us.”  His cheeks flushed, turning a bright red as he turned back to the pan to quickly flip the pancake.  “I hope you don’t mind that I used your flour and shit…”

“Oh, no, I…  I almost never cook,” you admitted as you moved over to stand next to him, watching as he made two more pancakes.

As he carried the huge plate to the kitchen island, he teasingly grabbed your ass and squeezed.  “Maybe I’ll have to stay the night more often, if only so you get a homemade breakfast.”

It was sweet, and domestic, and somewhat terrifying.

You hadn’t had a man do anything for you like this since you were in your twenties, when your husband was still sweet and loving.

But even so, this was somehow better than anytime your husband made his famous burritos.

Maybe because James’s cooking actually tasted good.

Your first date was to a movie, a drive in.  Something that’s designed to be vintage but really just looked cheesy as all hell.

But it’s perfect.  Perfect and cheesy and romantic.

Your only complaint was that he didn’t kiss you at the door when he dropped you off.  He pressed his lips to your cheek and whispered a goodnight, and that was it.

It took two more dates within the same week for him to kiss you again.

Bright and early on the next Saturday morning, he knocked on your door, holding a bouquet of flowers.

“I figured I should make up for you having to be up so early with this,” he said as he came inside, kissing you quick before moving to put the flowers in a vase.

At this point, he knew your house almost as well as you did.  It felt good, when you two moved around like you were part of a team.

“Have you gotten your coffee this morning?” You asked, already pouring two travel mugs full of the good stuff.

He came up behind you, kissing your shoulder.  “I have, but you know I’ll never say no to more, doll.”

The rest of the group eyed you curiously as you got out of the same car, a few elbow nudges and whispers in the air.

“At least I know no old ass dickheads are gonna come hit on my girlfriend,” James growled in your ear, his calloused flesh hand squeezing your hip.

“Jamie…,” you whined, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.  No one had ever claimed you in such a way that made you feel so desired and… and worthy.

James made you feel worthy.

Which is something you’d only ever really gotten from your daughter.

It sent a bolt of arousal through you, and you were tempted to drag him back to the car so you could bring him right back home and do something about it.

Also…  Girlfriend?  Were you his girlfriend now?  Officially?

That just made you wanna find somewhere to fuck him even more.

But alas, you pushed the thought away as the lot of you boarded one of those white airport vans that took you out of the city to the closest state park.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed out as you stared out the window, forehead pressed to the cool glass.  The morning air was a bit chillier than it had been lately, signaling the coming onslaught of winter.

Maybe Bucky would wanna make hot cocoa together… go sledding…  Would him, Josephine, and Danny would all come over for Christmas and New Years and—

Would he even want to meet Josephine?

Would Josie wanna meet him?

She had no idea that you’d found a—A boyfriend?

“Not as beautiful as you,” Bucky murmured against the shell of your ear as his vibranium fingers intertwined with yours and squeezed.  His stubble tickled your neck as he rested his head on your shoulder, watching the passing scenery with you.  “I’m really glad I met you, doll…”

“Me, too,” you said, grinning as you squeezed his hand back and leaned your head against his.

It was strange, falling so hard for someone so quick after everything you’d been through.

But you had a gut feeling.  One that you had never had with your ex husband.

James was a good one.  A really, really good one.

That reminded you.

When were you meant to tell him about all the shit you’d been through?

Despite the amount of time you had spent together already, you hadn’t found the courage for it.

Soon, you decided.

But first, you had to get through the damn hike.

Bucky was glued to your side the entire time, even though you were a lot worse at hiking than he was.  He would hold your hand, guiding you anytime there was a fallen tree or a creek.  His blue eyes were soft as he murmured encouragement, quietly praising your every move.

It was intoxicating.

So when you two fell behind from the group, watching them go around a curve and down a hill, you dragged James behind a large rock formation.

“Baby doll?  Darling, what the hell are you doing?” He laughed as you pressed a fierce kiss to his lips.

“Can’t a girl be spontaneous?” You teased as you dropped to your knees, ignoring the way a twig was poking into your left knee.  “Need to taste you.”

His eyes locked on you as you worked at his jeans, getting them down and off, his nails scratching at your scalp as he got a good grip on your head.  “Fuck…  Are you really this needy for me, angel?  Fuck, you’re so god damn gorgeous…  Look at you.”

Your heart pounded against your rib cage as you finally freed his length, a grin on your lips as you wrapped your hand around him and slowly stroked him.

Bucky’s eyes rolled back as your mouth wrapped around the head of his cock.  “Fucking shit…  Good girl…  Suck me off real good, baby.”

The group probably would notice your absence, not that you particularly cared.

Not when you had your man so weak for you.  And all you’d had to do was get on your knees.

His metal and flesh hands guided you to take more of him in, going at a slow pace so as not to hurt you.  He was so big there was no way you’d get all of him down your throat but what you couldn’t take in your mouth, you pleasured with your hands.

Pleasuring your partner like this was addicting.  You’d never felt the desire—no, the incessant need—to please your ex husband.  All you could think about was getting Bucky off, making him feel so good that he couldn’t see or walk straight.

You choked around him as you took him as deep as possible, your eyes glassy.  When you popped off, you stroked him as you moved down to carefully suck at his balls, fighting a grin as he gasped, his hips stuttering.  Before he could orgasm, you took him back in your mouth, wanting to swallow him down.

“Fuck, fuck—  Oh, shit…  Baby—  I’m gonna…  I’m gonna—”  Bucky broke off with a shout as he came, spilling down your throat.  His large hands stroked your cheeks as you swallowed all of it, barring the little bit that had gotten on your lower lip.  “You did so good, darling,” he cooed as he helped you stand, pressing you against the rock behind him as he kissed you.  “Are you okay?  I didn’t hurt you, right?”

“No, you didn’t,” you said, a faint smile on your lips as you helped him put himself back away.  “You were perfect, James…”

When you finally caught up to the group, a few of the others shot you knowing looks.

But Bucky just had a satisfied smirk on his lips, his hand tightly intertwined with yours even as you flushed in embarrassment.

“Once we get home, it’s your turn,” he whispered in your ear as you all headed back for the van.

Your relationship with James was… wonderful.

It was easy in a way you’d never had before.

Within just two months, he was living at your house almost full time, to the point where you’d been thinking about asking him to move in.

It was like you two were magnets.  Even when you both had work to do, you did it in the same room, slowly gravitating towards each other until you were sitting close, your foot running up his calf.

And he’d gotten you to start writing.

“It’s your dream, doll.  You’re never too old to chase your dreams,” he said one night as you two laid in bed.  His metal fingers were tracing shapes on your spine, a chill from the cracked window ruffling his sweaty hair.  “If you don’t mind me asking…  Why did you stop in the first place?”

Ah.

The conversation you’d been avoiding for so long.

Sitting up, you pressed your hands to your face as you tried to find the words to say.  “Um…  I was married before…  I know you know, but, uh…”  Your fingers fiddled together nervously.  You swallowed around the lump in your throat.  “My husband…  He wasn’t…  He wasn’t nice.  At all.”

Bucky immediately sat up behind you, his vibranium hand resting flat on your back to reassure you that he was there, and to give you something to focus on while you spoke.  He didn’t need to speak for you to know.  He was there and he wasn’t running.

“I married him young… and I had Josephine young…  He’d always been so… possessive, but I just considered it protective,” you continued, pulling strength from his touch to keep on going.  You needed to tell him this.  You needed him to understand.  “Then after Josie was born, he started getting violent.  He’d always been mean, but he’d never hit me until after I gave birth…”

James was tense behind you, slowly scooting over so he could wrap his arms around you, his legs resting on either side of yours as he held you.  He needed you close.  Needed to know you were safe in his arms and that man was long gone.

“Put me in the hospital a few times…  He at least didn’t do it in front of Josie.  That’s the one thing I asked of him that he listened to.”  You couldn’t help but snort as you slowly relaxed back against him.  “She always thought all the bruises and shit was just a side effect of how clumsy I am…  But she came home one day during college, to surprise us…  She walked in on him holding a frying pan above his head, about to swing again.  She jumped in between us and told him if he ever touched me again, she’d kill him.”  You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding as his lips pressed to your bare shoulder.  It was soothing, feeling his skin against yours.  “She moved me out of that house and into her apartment, helped me get the divorce, get back on my feet…”

“Remind me to tell Josephine thank you,” he said quietly as he squeezed you close.  “Thank you for telling me, doll…  I…  I can’t imagine how hard that was…  But he’ll never touch you again.  No one will ever touch you again if you don’t want it.”

“I know.”

He nuzzled into your hair, breathing in the scent of your shampoo.  “I love you.  So much…”

A peace settled over you as you rested your head back against his, allowing yourself to truly fall into him, to relax.  “And I love you…”

After that night, Bucky slept over at your place five to six nights a week, only going home to get more clothes and do his laundry really, even though you’d told him a million times he could do it at your place.

“Wake up, sweetheart,” he murmured in your ear one morning, pushing your hair away from your face.  “Time to get up…  I’ve got breakfast ready for you…”

Groaning, you tried to pull him down for more cuddle time, but he wasn’t having it.  He always woke up before you, too many years a soldier coming into play.  He’d go for a run and make breakfast before waking you up.

“Come on, doll,” he chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips as he got you to sit up, your vision blurry from sleep still.  “Medicine,” he said, pressing your pills into your palm and putting a glass of water in your other. 

Ever since he’d found out about your prescriptions and how you had a hard time remembering to take them, he’d taken it upon himself to make sure you did, every morning and night without fail.

“What’d you make this morning?” You asked sleepily after swallowing your pills, letting him pull you to your feet.  His t-shirt clung to you as you followed him down the hall.  Your hand was tucked into his as you rounded the corner to the kitchen.

What neither of you had heard was the sound of the front door opening.

“Mama?!  What the hell?!” Josephine demanded, standing in the kitchen with Danny right behind her.  “Who the fuck is this?!  What is he doing here?!”

Oh.

Yeah.

You’d neglected to tell your daughter, afraid of how she might take it.

“Hello.  I’m James.  Or Bucky,” your boyfriend said as he held out his hand to you, clearly unashamed and standing his ground even though he was only wearing a pair of pajama pants.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” Your daughter repeated angrily, ignoring his hand.

“Josie,” Danny began, trying to soothe her.

But your daughter was nothing but determined when she was in her protective mode.

Before you could open your mouth, Bucky supplied, “I’m her boyfriend.”

You felt a flush coming over you as she stared at the two of you, slack-jawed.  “He is,” you said, wrapping both of your arms around his metal one.  You were so nervous, you were shaking.

“When did this happen?!” She demanded, beginning to pace back and forth around the kitchen.

“Um…  The first meeting at the bar… for the club,” you said.  Seeing her so upset made your anxiety spike, and you knew James could feel it, could hear the way your heart rate increased exponentially.

Josephine whirled on you, her eyes—so much like yours—wide with disbelief.  No.  Betrayal.  “You’ve been seeing someone for almost three months and you didn’t tell me?”

“I…”  Tears pricked your eyes as you tightened your grip on Bucky’s arm.  This was not the way you wanted them meeting to go.  “I was scared… of how you’d react…”

At that moment, Bucky turned to meet your eyes, his forehead almost pressing against yours.  “Darling, I feel like this is a conversation you two should have alone, yeah?  So I’m gonna take—Danny, right?  Yeah—Danny to the living room with some coffee so we can get to know each other, okay?”

After a nod, and a squeeze of his hand, he got two mugs of coffee and led your daughter’s girlfriend to the living room.  You could see them sitting down from the corner of your eyes, but you were much too focused on Josephine.

“Mama, I—”

“I love him,” you said, before she could say anything more.

Her eyes were shining, locked on you as she waited for you to speak.  In her gut, she knew this was something you needed to get out.

“I love him more than I’ve ever loved a man.  More than I loved your father,” you whispered, your voice cracking.  “And I know…  I know you’re as protective as you are because you saw how he treated me.  You saw how much I hid that he was hurting you, but Jamie isn’t like that.”  Your fingers fiddled as you tried to keep yourself from pacing.  “He’s kind and adoring and gentle and…  and he loves me.  More than I thought anyone could ever love me.  And I know you feel like you need to take care of me and I am so grateful.  And I still need you.  Everyday.  But Bucky…  I love him.  I love him and he loves me and we take care of each other.”

Josephine reached out, slowly taking your hands in hers.  “He…  He makes you happy?  He takes care of you and you’re safe?” She asked, voice trembling as a few tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Yeah.  He takes real good care of me,” you insisted with a weak laugh.  “And I’ve never been so happy before, honey.  I promise.”

“Okay…,” she said, taking a deep breath.  “I’m still giving him the shovel talk.”

Bucky looked up as Josephine entered the living room, looking much calmer.  He wasn’t sure what you’d said, but it had seemed to placate her for the time being.

“Can we talk outside?” She asked him, keeping her chin high.

God, she looked so much like you.

He nodded stiffly, getting to his feet and leaving his mug behind as he followed her to the front door and out onto the porch.  The former super soldier watched as she paced back and forth, biting her thumb.  “I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said finally, breaking the silence.

Josie stopped in her tracks, listening quietly.

“Your mama loves you something fierce.”  Nervously rubbing his hands on his pajama pants, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so nervous meeting a girl’s family.

Though, he supposed it was a bit different when it was meeting your girlfriend’s daughter.

“And I love her.”

Your daughter, your mini me, stared him directly in the eyes.  “I’m sure she’s told you about my father.  What he did.”

“She did.”

“So you know that if you put one fucking foot out of line, I’ll filet you?”

“I do.”

She eyed him for a long moment.  “What are you in this for?  What’s the long term?” She asked.  “I’ve heard of elders just… settling for someone because they don’t wanna be alone in their twilight years.  Is that what this is?”

Bucky tried really hard not to feel a little bit offended.  He wasn’t that old.  “I’ve been alive since 1917,” he said slowly.  “I have no doubt you know who I am.  But I’ve been alive a hundred and something years, and I’ve never met someone who makes me feel the way your mom does.”  His heart clenched inside his chest as he thought of you, seeing your shy smile in the mornings, how you clung to him when you went out in public, the sound of your voice as you read an excerpt of your writing to him, so nervous about what he would think.  “And I…  I can say that everything I’ve been through…  Everything I’ve ever been through was worth it, because I got to meet her.  And I get to be hers for the years I have left.”

She looked absolutely speechless.  “Good,” she said, coughing to clear her throat.  “Good.  I just…  I can’t see her get hurt again.  Not after everything.”

“Trust me, I don’t plan to,” he said, his mouth dry.  “I…  I actually have something to ask you about…  Been waiting to meet you to talk to you about it…”

Inside, you paced the kitchen and living room, going back and forth and back and forth, sometimes moving to the window to try to hear what they were saying.  But they were keeping it all very hushed.

“It’s gonna be fine, mama,” Danny said, standing up and moving to wrap her arms around you.  “Josie’ll see how much you two love each other, and it’ll be fine.  She’s just gotta have her protective moment.  You know how she is.”

Sniffling, you hugged her tightly.  “I shouldn’t have kept it from her for so long…  I was just so nervous…  They both…  They both mean the world to me.”  You paused, snorting.  “I knew you’d approve of him.  I wasn’t so worried about you.”

“Oh, please, the way that man looked at you?” She said, laughing as she kissed your forehead.  “Mama, there’s no way in hell that man would ever hurt you.  He looks at you like you’re his entire universe.”

Heart warm, you glanced towards the front door, wishing they’d just come inside already.  “I’ve never felt something like this…  But fuck, if the whole shit show that’s my life wasn’t worth it for him…  I wouldn’t change a thing, as long as it means I get to end up with him.”

You broke out of her grasp as the front door opened and they came back inside, looking relaxed and even… happy?  “Well?  You aren’t gonna kill him?” You asked Josie as you moved to James, heart racing.

“Nah…,” she said, giving him what seemed like a secretive smile.  “As far as dads go…  He’d be pretty nice to have.”

“What?” You said, brows furrowing as you looked between the two of them.

Bucky chuckled, winking at Josephine as he led you to the stove where breakfast was still waiting, making you waddle as his arms wrapped around you from behind.  “Don’t worry your pretty head about it, baby doll.  It’s all good.”

You still couldn’t help but feel like the two were planning something as he made your plate for you, cutting up your pancakes and filling up your coffee.  “Why do I feel like you two are gonna end up ganging up on me?”

“Oh, come on, mama,” Josephine said with a smirk on her face.  Her and Danny had made their own plates and joined you and Bucky in the living room.  “How could you ever accuse us of such a thing?”

“Yeah,” James said as he fed you a bite of pancake.  “How could you ever accuse us of such a thing?” He asked, before leaning in and stealing a kiss.  “I love you.”

You’d never felt more relaxed, surrounded by the people you loved the most in the world.  What you’d said to Josephine had been true.

“I love you more,” you said, leaning back in for another kiss.

You’d never been so happy.

[somewhatgreatexpectations]

Leave Your Lover (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader)

Hello! So, this was going to be one really long part, but it kind of got away from me and I had to split it into two. Don’t worry the next part is going to be very long either way because that’s the half that got away from me. This takes place pre-Infinity War. Inspired by Sam Smith’s “Leave Your Lover”, mainly the line featured. 

Summary: A brief glimpse into life on the run. Will Wanda be able to find Y/n? 

“If I can't have you I'll walk this life alone, spare you the rising storms and let the rivers flow.”

Being on the run was difficult to say the least and being on the run while trying to find someone who was actively trying not to be found was even worse. Despite being told by the rest of the group that it may be in her best interest to just move on and let you go, Wanda knew that wasn’t an option. She had made a promise to herself that she was going to keep fighting for you, no matter the cost. Wanda had let you go once and she wasn’t going to let it happen, not if there was a part of her that knew you still had love in your heart for her.

The only one who knew where you were at all times was Steve and he had spent the last few months absolutely refusing to disclose your exact location. That never stopped her from trying though. 

Eventually though, he gave in. Steve wasn’t sure if it was her sheer determination that impressed him or the fact that he had never seen you happier than when you were with her. If she thought she could create happiness in a terrible situation, Steve thought she at least deserved a true chance and he wouldn’t stand in the way. 

When she received the location, Wanda quickly packed what little she had and booked the next train ticket to Rennes, France. Feeling hopeful for the first time since long before the events of Lagos. _________________________________

For the majority of the time you’d been on the run, you stuck to the idea that hiding in plain sight was the best course of action. Which is why you were currently at a poorly lit bar, trying to live as normal a life as you possibly could under the circumstances. The only unfortunate thing was that you couldn’t interact with anyone due to the risk of being discovered. So, when you felt someone tap your shoulder, you knew it would be time to go.

Before turning, you downed your drink to prepare yourself to either get hit on by a random drunk person or convince them you weren’t who they thought you were.

Neither options were what you got when you turned around though. You tilted your head in pleasant surprise at the sight before you.

“Long time no see, stranger.”

Without thinking and perhaps partially due to the alcohol coursing through your veins, you wrapped yourself tightly around the woman in front of you. She laughed in surprise and gladly returned the embrace. You couldn’t help but revel in the contact, touch deprived from all the time you had spent in solitude.

For a while, you both just stood there, wrapped in one another’s embrace. Ignoring the occasional odd look from random passer byers. With one final squeeze, you released her but kept your hands on her shoulders. “You have no idea how good it is to see you, Nat.” you admitted to her with a smile on your face.

Natasha easily returned the smile. “It’s good to see you too. I was passing by outside when I thought I saw you sitting here and I had to see if it was really you.”

“What are the chances?” you asked with a laugh as you signaled the bartender over and ordered drinks. “Let’s celebrate.”

After drinking for a bit and catching up slightly, you both agreed that staying longer would be too much a risk and decided to take a walk outside. 

“You dyed your hair.” You noted as you reached over and took a strand of her hair gently in between your fingers before letting it go. “It looks good.”

A playful smirk spread across Natasha’s lips. “Yeah, well, I figured the red was a dead giveaway for me, so… blonde it was.” She nudged you playfully. “A better disguise than a beanie and glasses at least. You’re no better than Rogers.” 

A boisterous laugh escaped your lips, “What can I say? That man taught me everything I know.” Natasha shook her head but laughed despite herself. 

You knew you would have to separate soon, but you tried not to focus on that. The pair of you walked in contented silence, enjoying the comfort of not being alone, even if it was temporarily.  Eventually you both come up on the street where your hideout was located and for the first time you didn’t feel the need to rush in. Thankfully there was a small bench located across the street and you both wandered over and took a seat, enjoying the cool air.

“How have you been?” Natasha eventually asked, her eyes on yours as she attempted to analyze you.

You pondered the question for a moment. “I’ve been… lonely.” You finally breathed out, turning your gaze skyward. “I feel alone. I miss real connections. I miss just being able to walk down the street without fear of corporal punishment. I miss human contact.”

Natasha’s hand fell to your knee and squeezed lightly. You turned your head to meet her eyes. “I know what you mean. You’re never really alone though, Y/n. You know we’d all be there in a heartbeat if we could, if we have to.” 

The touch and the knowledge that you weren’t alone was something you had missed. Again, whether it was the alcohol in both your systems or the deprivation of another human’s touch, but you both found yourselves leaning forward and connecting lips. 

It was gentle and nice, but you couldn’t help but compare it to Wanda. Kissing Wanda always felt powerful and right. The way your whole body felt like electricity was coursing through your veins at the simplest of touches. Kissing Wanda always felt like coming home. You could’t help but think you needed this to realize that the one you still wanted was the one you shouldn’t want.

Despite this, you didn’t pull away, tangling your hand in Natasha’s now blonde locks as her hands fell to your waist. You allowed yourself this small moment of comfort.

Across the street, Wanda had been approaching only to stop in horror at the sight before her. Her mind rushing and heart breaking at the sight. If she felt a fraction of what you did that night on the roof, she couldn’t imagine how you got through it. As much as her heart ached in her chest, she didn’t allow it to stop her. She just hoped it wasn’t too late. That you hadn’t already given your heart to another. 

After some time, both you and Natasha pulled away. Laughing when you met one another’s eyes. “That was… nice.” You said lightly.

Natasha rolled her eyes and pushed your shoulder. “Yeah, we’re drunk. We will never speak of this again.” She chuckled and looked at her watch. “My train leaves in a little over an hour, I should probably go.” You nodded in understanding and she hugged you once more before beginning to walk away.

“Hey, Nat?” you called after her. She turned. “Take care of yourself, okay?” She nodded and blew a teasing kiss your way before walking off into the night. With a sigh you leaned into the bench and closed your eyes for a moment, taking in the fact that you were alone again. 

It had to have been less than a few minutes when you felt someone sit next to you, your eyes shot open and met with stunning emerald eyes that used to be your world. “Wanda?” you whispered, feeling the air leave your lungs at the sight of her. 

Wanda quirked her lips up slightly, but there was melancholy in her eyes. “So, you and Nat, huh?” There was no accusation in her tone, just sadness. Possibly even acceptance. You quickly realized that she must have seen the kiss.

“And if we are? Together, I mean. What will you do?” You probed challengingly.

Pain flooded her eyes as she dropped her gaze to her lap. “Nothing. I’m not going to interfere if you’re happy, but… but just know that I won’t stop fighting for you. I’ll be here waiting because our love is destined and I’m not going away. I’ll still love you even if you chose to love someone else. You have all of me. Always.” She paused slightly. “You are my only direction.” She added quietly, repeating the words you once told her back to you. 

Your heart clenched at the referenced moment, of one of your formerly favorite moments. 

Staring off into the distance, you could feel the numbness begin to fade as the alcohol started to leave your system. “Why?”

She lifted her gaze up to you curiously, but you didn’t meet her eyes. “Why what?”

“Why do you keep trying?” 

Wanda took a deep breath and turned so she was facing you completely even if you wouldn’t look at her. “Love.” She stated simply, “I’m in love with you, beyond all rationality. Even if you don’t believe me. I want you to have everything you want, even if its Nat, even if that destroys me.”

Even in Spain you had never heard her speak so passionately. It terrified you. Terrified you so much that you wanted to get up and run far, far away from her. Far from the feelings that her words stirred within you.

Wanda wasn’t done though, she needed to get everything off her chest. To lay all her cards out. “When you love someone, you don’t stop. Even when everyone on the team calls me crazy and tells me I should just move on and let you go. I won’t stop or give up because if I could give up…” She risked taking your hand in hers, sighing in relief when you don’t pull back. “If I could give up and listen to everyone’s advice and move on and find someone else that wouldn’t be love. That would be some imitation that is not worth fighting for.”

“Wanda…” you whispered finally looking up at her, noticing the way her eyes shined with unshed tears.

She squeezed your hand again. “But you… You are more than worth fighting for. You will always be worth fighting for. And if I can’t have you I’ll be alone because no one else can hold my heart. This is love.”

“I’m not with Natasha.” You admitted softly after Wanda’s declaration, watching the way relief filled her eyes. “I think we were both just lonely and comforting each other.”

The relieved smile that took over Wanda’s features was contagious as you couldn’t help but smile hesitantly back at her. 

Wanda’s heart fluttered at the sight. That was the first time you had smiled at her since the night on the roof. 

“What does that mean?” she questioned hopefully.

With hesitation, you interlaced your fingers with Wanda’s. “It means that I’m still not sure I trust you and I’m not ready to be with you again.” Her head dropped in dejection. “But. I’m not going to ask you to leave if you want to stay and work on that.”

For the first time in a long time, Wanda felt a semblance of happiness blossom in her chest. Unable to stop herself, she surged forward and took you in her arms, melting when you held her back. “I promise I’ll earn your trust back. I’m not going anywhere. I’d follow you to the ends of the earth, Y/n.”

Part 10! double digits! Pre-Infinity War and Infinity war was supposed to be one chapter and in hindsight that was probably overly ambitious of me. That means there will now be 13 parts instead of 12. Anyway, as always let me know what you think, and hope you enjoyed! :)

[staytiny-yaps]

hi! can I request a Rhysand from ACOTAR x reader where she is actually his mate but he had made his choice with Feyre and she is just soo heartbroken by it but instead later on she and Azriel fell in love and it all works out in the end? thank you!

A/n: Sure you can love, I am so so sorry for how long its taken ne to get to these. My inbox is so full and I'm just useless. Hope y'all enjoy- constructive criticism is welcome, but as always please be polite 😊🥰

The Next World

Rhysand looked over the small female. She was High Fae, but her stature was petite and fragile.

She was beautiful, but in his eyes, she was no Feyre. He had already comitted to Feyre, already vowed himself to her.

He loved Feyre, but he did not love the female in front of him.

Why did it have to be this way? She was so nice, so deserving of love and so deserving of a mate. And now he had to break her heart

He glanced at her eyes for a moment, then looked away. This isn't fair. His mate wasn't coming. That's why he chose Feyre in the first place and now there can be no one else.

Her eyes were welled up with tears and despite her begging, she knew what was coming.

Rhysand forced himself to look her in the eyes as he spoke, no matter how much harder it made things.

"I'm sorry. I've made my choice. You should probably go." He tried to say it gently, but the words sounded harsh even to his own ears.

Rhys winced, it was as if he could see he heart in her eyes, it was as if he was watching it physically break.

Without another word, she turned and walked towards the front door of the estate, no tears left her eyes until she felt the fresh breeze of the city on her face.

Why did her mate find a love away from her? How was that fair at all? How was she going to face the Inner Circle tomorrow, knowing about the bond.

Knowing that it will never be accepted. Feeling as though she will never be accepted.

She felt numb. But she also hurt.

How can you feel nothing, but also be hurting at the same time? How was that fair?

She seemed to be asking herself that question a lot lately, and as she pushed open the door to a bar hoping to drink away her sorrows, she realized: nothing is fair.

Not in this world and not in the next.

Sighing, she makes her way to a secluded little corner at the bar, trying to avoid being seen by Cassian, Azriel and Mor who were all laughung and drinking together.

It felt like a taunt, they were happy now and they could go home and sleep well and the next day when the time came to visit Feyre and Rhys, there would be no hesitation. They would be greeted with smiles and hugs.

They would be greeted with love. And she would not.

When the bartender brought her her drink she smiled and slurped half of it down in one go. Her face felt cold from residual tears and her eyes felt stiff and dry.

She looked back up to the group she was trying to avoid only to realise that Azriel was no longer there.

Probably gone home, maybe with another female, or even a male. To be happy, or at least content with another for tonight.

The concept felt so far away, she felt as if she'd never be happy again. Especially with someone else.

A warm hand covered her shoulder and she turned around quickly, whipping out a fisted hand, only for her wrist to be caught.

Shadows curled around her wrist and reached up her arm. With a gasp, she inspected the intruder's face and realised that Azriel was standing behind her.

"Why the long face?" He asked and as much as she wanted to retort back, as soon as she opened her mouth, her throat closed up and tears burned behind her eyes again.

She looked away from the male and stared into the half-empty cup in her hands.

"What's up buttercup?" He asked again, sliding into the stool next to her and craning his neck to see her face.

She looked back up at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Did you just say 'What's up buttercup?'?" She asked and he gave a small smile as he nodded.

"What's wrong with that?" She shook my head at his words.

"Nothing. It's just stranger hearing the word buttercup slip from the spymaster's lips in such a playful way." She told him, wishing she could smile.

She enjoyed being around Azriel, he made her laugh and he made her feel comfortable. But right now, it felt so impossibly hard to feel happy.

"I'm not the spymaster right now. I'm Azriel, your friend and I'm here to help. Now, you gonna keep a secret from the spymaster?" He nudged her side and she ket out a sigh.

"I thought you weren't the spymaster tonight?"

"Well not actively. But it's not like I can just turn it off." He shrugged cockily. If it was any other day she would've laughed. She tried, but it felt as though she would never laugh again.

"Az... Rhysand is my mate." Shock clanged through him at her words.

"What?"

"He's my mate. And he doesn't want me."

"Oh my god."

🔸️

It had been a week since Rhysand's rejection and no one from the Inner Circle had seen Y/n since.

Except for Azriel.

She didn't show up for lunch the next day and she didn't appear for any meetings or meet-ups.

Mor and Cassian were worried and guilt was eating at Feyre, she felt it was her fault.

Rhysand was destroyed by guilt, he hadn't seen her in person since everything went down, but though the bond was quieting, it was as if he could feel her heartbreak through the bond.

But he could also feel something else, he didn't know what it was, but he thinks it is the reason he can feel the bond breaking.

Azriel had been spending all his spare moments with her, dedicating himself to making her feel better and helping her realise that she doesn't need a mate to be happy.

She doesn't need Rhys.

And she knows. She doesn't need Rhys, she has never needed him. The bomd had made her mind go whacky.

If she had let it continue taking over herself, she may have needed him. She was ready to as well, then Azriel put his hand on her shoulder.

Azriel smiled at her and got her to tell him what was happening.

Azriel called her a buttercup.

She hadn't smiled that night, but when she went to bed she questioned herself.

Why dodn't she smile that night? Azriel makes her smile. Why is she letting Rhysamd get in the way of that.

Of everything.

He doesn't want her and while it hurts, there is nothing she can do about it.

But she can find someone who does want her.

Her friends want her, maybe not in the way she would've been with a mate, but they love her and they want her.

A knock sounded on the door and everyone fell silent. They knew the scent and they knew who was at the door.

Feyre went to answer.

The group couldn't see what was happening, but they could hear the words exchanged.

"Y/n..."

"Is everyone here already?"

"Y/n I-" Feyre was cut off by a thumping noise.

Did she punch her?

The group got off the couch and walked into the entry hall to see Y/n and Feyre standing there wrapped in a hug.

Feyre was whispering 'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.' and Y/n was just shaking her head.

Rhysand gave a soft smile at the scene in front of him. Through the slightly crumbling bond between them, he could feel Y/n healing.

When Feyre and Y/n pulled apart, everyone wanted their turn. There was almost a line in front of her while they waited for their hug too.

Rhys could feel Y/n's hesitation amd he didn't want to push it so he didn't get in line.

Then it was Azriel's turn.

He engulfed her and her small body pretty much disappeared into his as they hugged.

He squeezed her tightly and they stayed like that for a long moment, longer than the rest, inhaling each other's scents and revelling in the comfort of one another.

Rhys noticed. And he smiled. He knew why she was healing.

🔸️

It had been almost five months since Rhys had rejected the mating bond between him and Y/n.

If you looked really, really hard, it was still there. But it was faint and he could no longer feel her emotions, hear any words she let down the bond. It was pretty much non-existent.

And Y/n no longer cared. Of course she cared about Rhysand. They were still friends, in fact they were quite close after everything that had happened.

But she didn't need him the way she might've. She did need Azriel though.

And Azriel needed her.

They sat together on Azriel's couch, well, they layed together.

Azriel layed on the couch and she lay on top of him, his arms around her waist and keeping her from slipping off.

"Y/n?"

She hummed in response, but her eyes were still glazed over sleepily.

"Do you ever wish Rhys had picked you?" His voice was quiet.

"No." She replied with absolutely no hestitation.

"Why?"

"Because I love you and I am happier with you than I could ever be with Rhys. It's almost as if I left Rhys in the world behind me. You are my new world. And I would never wish for anything else." Her words were sweet, her voice was smooth and her eyes were soft.

Azriel was overcome with the love he felt for her. He lifted his wings up and wrapped them around her body tightly.

She felt warm and safe wrapped up in his arms and wings, surrounded by his scent and his love and also his shadows.

They weren't mates, but it didn't matter. They were in love.

[valkyriegoddesses]

Thoughts on ACOSF

⚠️ SPOILERY, SO DON’T READ IF YOU HAVEN’T READ THE BOOK ⚠️

⚔️ the good and the bad, I’ll try to get rid of the bad thoughts first and keep the positive ones for the end but idk where my line of thought would go as I recall and type so here we go

• Nesta’s journey of healing is hers and hers alone. She owes no one in the inner circle anything, they didn’t do her any favors. (Now before I delve into this, I just want to say that I see they (Feyre and Elain only) had good intentions, but I’m going to point out everywhere it went wrong, probably against what they planned, but still it went horribly wrong) She was still suffering all the same after she got her free will stripped from her, the decision made for her by packing her things without informing her or listening to her opinion or trying to have a more lenient approach to the matter, being threatened that her second option is being thrown to the human lands where she could die, being lied to about the consequences of her actions in law, being told she “belongs in the Hewn City”, being told she’s “a pathetic waste of life”, and choosing the place everyone admits they hate going to aka the House of Wind, as her destination to heal. Knowing full well she can’t make the descent down these stairs and would be imprisoned without the power to winnow. And instead of being given her space and time, they push her to talk and interact when all she’s trying to do is have some distance from everyone. Some time to herself, to not feel anything, to control the storm of thoughts raging on the inside. And she’s pushed time and time again to face her trauma and heal RIGHT NOW because apparently, they’re timing her. And she shouldn’t have her emotions on display, when she tells them she doesn’t feel like talking yet she’s forced to interact and socialize. Anyone who’s been forced to interact against their will knows how draining it is. Now imagine this coupled with being triggered by water, and being triggered by fire, which are a daily necessity. And imagine everyone got a decade or more to deal with their trauma and are still not entirely healed, yet your time is up after little over a year. It sucks. And I hate how what triggered them to action wasn’t that she was wasting away to nothing, but the bill. When the bill was high, they drew the line. And I hate how in the narrative, the “conversation” -even though I wouldn’t call it that because only one side was allowed to talk and the other side wasn’t allowed to object- was written in a way that made it about THEIR image, when she’s frequenting taverns. THEIR image, when she doesn’t show up to their parties. THEIR image when the bill for her drinking is high. (They say it’s too much money, as if they don’t have all the riches and they all spend money on things that are absolutely not necessary, and THEY drowned her with gifts, LOADS of gifts, after she sacrificed her power to save her sister, which she didn’t do for payment, but anyway the thought is, they had the money and just like they thought Amren deserves payment for what she did in the war, they should’ve kept the same energy for Nesta because she had no small role in that either). I just think they handled it badly. Not exactly how you’d talk to someone suffering from PTSD, depression and survivor’s guilt. For one, threatening a worse alternative isn’t helpful. Secondly, There were way too many people in that room. More than necessary. Feyre and Elain would’ve been enough AS HER FAMILY (and I’ll get to details on this in a moment). And Feyre was the only decent one handling it as someone who actually was looking for a better outcome and really had the intention to help, someone who wasn’t there just to humiliate. Amren and Rhys were only there to land jabs and poke at her insecurities and bad coping mechanisms. Rhys used his power on her to force her to obey him and we all know how it’s a big NO among them. Many of those in the IC had worse coping mechanisms. But what she was doing was too much for them to handle? She was self-destructing. And she kept her distance. If I told someone I needed my space and they kept poking their head in my business, I sure as hell would lash out. When someone needs space, their privacy should be respected. No matter how long it takes them.

And I don’t see where the problem with her drinking was. She never showed up to events drunk. We never saw her hungover the day after. She was spending some money on drinking yes, but it did not get out of hand. She was also spending money on food and gambling. All in all, not the worst coping mechanism among those who were criticizing her. Not to mention that everyone who criticized her were drinkers as well, and they all slept around during some part of their lives.

Now the problem with the presence of other people in that room, other than Feyre (if Elain didn’t wish to attend and preferred to have some space between her and and Nesta, it’s her choice) anyway, only Feyre’s presence was required. Everyone else there was just an accessory, only adding stress to the atmosphere, forcing Nesta to get on the defensive with the way they slut shamed her, shamed her for drinking, shamed her for not being able to take a bath even though she told Feyre how the water still scares her, etc. I can see Sarah wanted it to look like a “family” intervening. Like some tough love sort of thing. But she failed. Simply because, the IC might be Feyre’s found family and she might take such a talk from them because it would really be tough love. As for Nesta, she doesn’t view them as family. She barely knows them. So for a group of strangers, or let’s say newly acquainted people, to sit around her and point out her every flaw and shame her for every misstep, who wouldn’t lash out at that? It’s enough she’s forced to spend time among them, on holidays she doesn’t really believe in, where they force her to attend but actively ignore her presence and treat her like a ghost. Why make her come if they don’t enjoy her company? It’s just ridiculous. Then when she gets angry from all the pushing and lashes out and it’s entirely her fault. they’re all like “come to our gatherings where we will insult you, nitpick all your unhealthy coping mechanisms, but don’t be offended and seclude yourself, we all took decades to deal with our trauma and killed people while doing it but your coping mechanisms are unhealthy. And your actions are unforgivable because you lash out at us when we shove ourselves down your throat. How can you not like us? Everyone has to like us.” Then she gets thrown away to a war camp, a FUCKING WAR CAMP, while a big part of her trauma is because of war. And instead of dealing with her face-to-face, while being gentle and showing her they’re on her side WITHOUT JUDGEMENT, WITHOUT WINCING AND GLANCES AT EACH OTHER AND INNER CONVERSATIONS ABOUT HER WHERE SHE’S EXCLUDED, they’re like “we’re tired of your shit so here’s a house you can stay in while you sort this out away from our merry little circle, which has its nose up your business anyway. But still, sort it out away from us.” And in that house she became more and more closed off and her healing - and I will die on this hill - her healing DID NOT start until the house came into play which was her own doing. And it kicked off because of Emerie and Gwyn, who both didn’t judge her, didn’t demonize her, didn’t only see the bad in her, but accepted her as she was and loved every part of her. Showed her that she was not a waste of life and there are things to live for. As for the beloved inner circle? Beyond insulting her and her coping mechanisms, They don’t tell her about the weapons SHE made, because pro-colonization Amren doesn’t think it’s wise, that Nesta would use it against the world. (Amren do you hear how stupid you sound?) they always villianize her, assuming she’d be out to take the world and take revenge on everyone who ever glanced her way. They assumed she was bad, they assumed because she was angry, that she would use her power for killing and terrorizing and building an Empire like they all do. When all she wanted to do was listen to music and be around good company who passed her no judgement.

Anyway, getting into some details with each character:

Feyre: I hated Feyre’s “crying over scrambled eggs because my image is destroyed my sister spent so much money on drinking”. And the fact that when telling Nesta she was doing this for her own good, she told her she was embarrassed for her own image in the same breath. But beyond that I was fine with her. I loved her reconcilation with Nesta. I loved that she was one who wanted to give Nesta more time, recognized that she needed her own time. I love them together. I think without everyone’s interference, their reconcilation would’ve happened much faster. They were already making progress before ~some people~ ruined everything and caused Nesta to be closed off again. I don’t hate that Nesta sacrificed her power to save Feyre in the end. She’s her sister and she loves her and this is not the first time she proved this. She would do anything to protect her sisters and she hates herself for the times she misstepped. Even though it wasn’t her fault and there was a full grown man sitting there who conveniently got a redemption arc. What angers me though, is that it was only after this, that the inner circle viewed her as someone who is worth their respect. And made the sacrifice materialistic by drowning Nesta with gifts. She didn’t do it for their acceptance or for their love, or for payment. She did it because her sister needed help. Period. (Sidenote: I’m writing a post where I delve deep into their relationship, which I will eventually post, because I think I reached an understanding about their relationship)

Elain: let me get something out of the way, she has power. She has free will, she’s not a baby. She’s a grown woman who doesn’t need coddling. I hate how the fandom views her as a baby. And she’s constantly infantilized, preventing her from reaching her full potential. Now that that’s out of the way, here are my 2 cents on her, since she wasn’t in this book much: Nesta’s wording was very clear, yet I’ve seen this scene misread all over the timeline. Nesta said “I sat by your side for weeks. Weeks, while you wasted away, refusing food and drink. While you appeared to hope you’d just wither and die. No one suggested you either shape up or be shipped back to the human lands.” Nesta’s problem is NOT that Elain wasn’t “there” as in “by her side”. She explicitly stated she needed space. Nesta’s problem was that she stood between Elain and anyone who might tell her to snap out of it and lock her trauma in some dark room in the back of her head. She made sure Elain had her time. While Elain agreed to pack her bags and didn’t prevent them from shipping her away, deciding her time was up. All she wants is time, and Elain didn’t have her back on this. Then we have the fact that Elain slut-shamed Nesta. And then when Nesta comes to the party this time, Elain meets her at the door and her reaction instead of saying hi and leaving it at that or simply ignoring her, is “did Feyre pay you this time?” I’m torn on where to stand on the Elain-Nesta situation, a part of me is disappointed in Elain. I think she should’ve handled this better than anyone else because she was there, she witnessed the trauma happen, Nesta was there for her, they grew up being inseparable the entire time. If anyone should understand her better than anyone else, it’s Elain. So why did she abandon her to everyone’s judgement? And a part of me is like maybe she knew whatever she voted wouldn’t matter because the IC were taking the step anyway, and didn’t want to be there when it happened. Or maybe she’s still dealing with her own trauma in her own way and doesn’t want a confrontation. But I always circle back to the sl*t-shaming and the shaming about the drinking, and then I think about the Solstice scene where as soon as she saw her she was like “did Feyre pay you this time?” And a part of me is angry about the shaming undertone of that too, while some part of me thinks that maybe Elain felt unwanted along with everyone else and that in order for Nesta to meet them, she has to be paid, but we will never know unless we hear it from her.

Rhysand: that piece of shit, misogynist, who used his powers to compel Nesta to obey his orders, pulled rank on her, taunted and threatened her every step of the way and utilized her for his own agenda, and was *surprised* to learn the woman has trauma. Took him being inside her head and unable to wake her up from the nightmare, because the behavior she was exhibiting wasn’t enough. [insert shocked pickatchu meme]. I also would like to add that him playing the protective love interest from his mate’s own sister, WHO COULD’VE HARMED HER IF SHE WANTED TO, but never wanted to because she’s not a bad person, is so cheap. Like- you, the guy who drugged her and made her give you lap dances, are afraid for her sake… from her sister? Who only ever used words as jabs and is generally rude? Or do you feel like you’re overpowered and are trying to fill the void in your toxic masculinity and reassert dominance ?

Cassian: He was patient with her, and probably the healthiest person in the inner circle who dealt with her until she was okay, but he still silently agreed with all the shit that was said about her. Shit she didn’t deserve to be said about her as someone going through trauma. He mocked whatever progress she made on the stairs calling it pathetic in the beginning. He stayed silent when Nesta was stripped of her will, when she was told she belongs in the Court of Nightmares, when her fate was decided for her, when she was being lied to, when she was threatened to be thrown to the humans who would kill her. He made some progress and understood her better with time, but it doesn’t excuse how he stayed silent when she was being mistreated. Specially since he claims her loves her. He also stayed silent as the Inner Circle despised her presence but still used her to reach what they’re plotting for. He progressed, and he got better, I’ll give him that. But still, as someone who claims he loves her the way he does, he shouldn’t have allowed his friends to manipulate and use her in their schemes but then exclude her from everything else, even knowledge about her own power. But I love that he was patient, that he worked to understand her, that he grew to stand up for her. I would argue that they are the healthiest ship written by SJM this far.

Mor: fucking Mor, who experienced trauma, told Nesta she belongs in the court of Nightmares. Where she was abused herself. Knowing women are viewed as objects there, knowing Nesta would recieve abuse there. She said that, wishing abuse on someone who she simply didn’t like and had some quarrels with. They never saw eye to eye and that’s fine. They always had sharp tongues when talking to each other and that’s fine. What’s not fine though, is that THIS of all things, seemed so out of character for Mor. Now, she never knew Nesta was a survivor of SA. But as someone who helps SA victims, she’s the last person I expected such a comment from. It felt very out of character. I hate that this is the Bi character in all of this mess. Of all people, a hypocrite is the Bi person. The LGBTQ community deserves better. I thought about it, and maybe Mor, being like a stranger to Nesta, and seeing her ignore Cassian in front of the Illyrians who already look down on him, made her angry to the point where she just wanted to land a jab and didn’t think her words would mean anything. Maybe all she wanted to do was stand up for Cassian, but what she said was definitely not true and not okay. I wanted her and Nesta to have a talk about it, but also she grew to have decent conversations with her and she helped her when she and Cassian had that fight. So I don’t know, maybe it’s a silent progress between them.

Amren: this one told her she was a waste of life. What a great way to deal with someone who’s suffering from PTSD and depression and having suicidal thoughts, Amren. Tell them they’re a waste of life, enforce every thought they are having as fact, push them to the point where they doubt they should be breathing, and when they’re told they could tumble down a mountain and break their bones while hiking, their first thought would be “good”. Amren deserves a medal, a badge of honor for being the 500+ old woman who has healthy ways of dealing with traumatized people telling them they don’t deserve to live because the thoughts of their power and dealing with controlling that power right now is so overwhelming. Amren, who decided that because Nesta was always angry, she had no right to know that she used her power unknowingly and forged powerful weapons. Amren, who was pushing for colonization throughout this book, was afraid of Nesta misusing her power. Villainizing Nesta’s every thought, as if Nesta wasn’t overwhelmed from the thought of possessing so much power, as if Nesta doesn’t refuse to use her powers and train. As if Nesta is out there hiding as she masters her power to reemerge and turn the world upside down. You’re the one who’s pushing Rhys to colonize other territories and become high king, Amren. Maybe *you* should be locked up in the house of wind for therapy. What hurts most in this is Amren was her friend. She trusted Amren. Amren said that shitty line to her and then lied to her and manipulated her and used her to further Rhys’s agenda. She flopped from telling Feyre that Nesta is immortal and a few years are nothing, and she should be given time. She would not betray her trust, to whatever she turned into in ACOSF. And everyone give SJM a round of pats on the back and an applause for making Amren the wise one here and making Nesta, the traumatized one who was wronged, get on her knees and apologize. I mean- if you thought this apology scene was necessary, then clarification about the fight between them was just as necessary. Or you include neither scene. But deeming the apology important and not the incident? This is some victim blaming on a whole other level.

The House of Wind: The house of wind was honestly one of the best parts of this book. It was Nesta, “Lady Death” as they call her, breathing life into something, and it was gentle, and it was patient, and it was understanding, and it pushed her to be healthier without judging, without throwing insults or slut-shaming. It hated that she didn’t eat? It kept waiting for her until her body gave out and she had to eat. It didn’t like her drinking? It gave her water when she asked for wine. It showed her its darkest part where she found the greatest warmth as well, as if saying don’t be ashamed of your darkness because in it you’ll find light, and it didn’t abandon her or stop responding to her when she was angry. It was actively by her side, without any judgement, only support and pushing her to fix the behaviours without dissing her. and it was everything those people around her weren’t. It was family.

Gwyn: their first meeting wasn’t at all what you would call “friendly”, to a fault by Nesta. Gwyn didn’t even know anything about Nesta, yet she didn’t react with even more anger as ~others~ did, she didn’t fear Nesta, or give a retort, or get angry and lash out at her. She took the blow and was, with all the calm in the world, like fine, you want to tell on me, go tell. And Nesta did go tell on her, then realized by herself how she acted rashly. And later helped Gwyn without being asked to, by swapping the book so Merrill doesn’t scold her. And their friendship grew to the point where Gwyn, a traumatized person who couldn’t dare leave the library, started training with her, was her friend and had conversations with her that didn’t center her trauma or her coping mechanisms being analyzed. She went out of the library for the first time in 2 years when she knew Nesta needed her by her side. She occupied her mind with stories of Valkyries, women being strong and unyielding in a society which didn’t allow it. She took her hand and gave her a purpose in life to work for. Gave her a friend who didn’t judge, a kind face in the maelstorm of judgemental faces. Until she felt like a safe space to Nesta to the point where she spilled all her thoughts, the ones she could only admit to herself, to Gwyn, letting her inside those walls. And when she braced for judgement, she didn’t receive it. Gwyn dealing with someone’s trauma, as someone who’s been through trauma herself, is one of the beautiful corners of this book

Emerie: Another woman with trauma. She sees Nesta enter her store, of course she knows who she is, yet she doesn’t judge her. Nesta asks about making the fatigues warmer, Emerie says she’ll ask, but it’s costly. Nesta says then she can’t afford it, admits that she was cut off, Emerie, as a stranger, doesn’t judge her. She says she could make them anyway and she can pay her as she can. Because no one should feel cold. It’s simple, irrelevant. Nesta wouldn’t freeze to death, she as a stranger has no obligation to help, it’s a simple reasoning. “You shouldn’t feel cold”. It’s enough for her to help Nesta. Something as mundane as feeling cold. She asks her to join her for a meal. And Nesta asks her if she would join the training, which Emerie refuses. and Nesta blurts out that she didn’t take her for a coward. And later, Nesta sends her the herbs she wishes to get which she can’t get often because of her location, and it’s a message of “you too deserve to see what’s best in the world, to go out and experience the beautiful parts and live, not just exist”. So Emerie goes to training with her as well, and they bond over romance novels. Emerie also reaches a point where she opens up about her own trauma, and tells the truth about what she faced and her survival. This girl who is 50-something at least, who has never had friends, living a lonely secluded life, finally found someone who was trustworthy enough to be around and form a bond with. As for the fact that she is a PoC, and the illyrians are portrayed as this group of savages who abuse their women and their women have no say in their lives and futures and how they clip their women’s wings, when wings, wingspan and wingplay heavily imply that wings are erogenous parts of the body and wing clipping seems to be the equivalent of Circumcision, which again so happens to be done by the “PoC savages who abuse their women”, hits a whole lot as fucking racist and xenophobic. PoC deserve a storyline where they’re not viewed as the villains.

Azriel: I loved his relationship with Nesta. He was the best chaperon™️, he never spoke in judgement toward her. There was a silent understanding between them. However, I’m not against him showing his feelings toward Elain or her toward him. It’s fine, if that’s what they both want. I don’t think Lucien is the type to call for a blood duel. He simply brings her presents and attends when invited, he doesn’t force himself on her and keeps his distance. However I did hate that Azriel took the necklace and gave it to Gwyn, as a secondhand. I know his only intention was to make her smile but the necklace wasn’t meant for her. It’s not a trial by error, he can’t just keep trying out with different women every time he fails with one. And I’ll just leave this here.

The elephant in the room: the entire IC is involved in this, them all blaming Nesta, framing her as the wrong person, when she told Feyre about the dangers of her pregnancy? I don’t care if she did it while she was angry, her heart was in the right place. She got hurt from them deciding her fate without her involvement, voting on her, not once, but twice, about her fate because she wasn’t fast enough to deal with her trauma, then again when deciding if she should know about what she did with her own power and the weapons. and she showed Feyre what was really at play. Protecting her from what she faced with the Inner Circle. Just because she was angry while doing it does not mean she did it out of spite. She did it to expose them, specially Amren at that point. But I don’t get how it was twisted to “because she wanted to hurt Feyre”. She wasn’t even angry at Feyre. But you all would rather suck up to the Inner Circle than confront the fact that they’re hypocrites and liars with a propaganda. They’re evil. They fear Nesta using her power to seize control of everyone because it’s how THEY are. With all this High King crap. Basically colonization dreams. With how they press rank whenever it suits them, and lie about the law to win arguments. It’s because those who are inherently bad think everyone is bad just like them.

Other Elephants in the room which have been here a long time: the thing with blaming Nesta for not being the breadwinner… I could never get it. Some have money-earning skills, others don’t. She, at the point of her life when she was human, was only trained in dancing and appealing to men socially so she could uplift the family’s social status. She couldn’t hunt. Feyre could. And NEITHER, should’ve been the breadwinner. Nesta was willing to starve to death if it would push her father to do something. Feyre wasn’t willing to wait and starve or watch anyone starve. But it doesn’t mean Nesta was at fault. She was only 3 years older than Feyre. Let’s leave the “the oldest child has to step in for the parents when the parents fail” mentality in the past. It’s ridiculous. Nesta was under no obligation to be the breadwinner. And she suffered self-flagellation regularly for letting Feyre walk out there and hunt. But she literally had no skills that when she thought of something to do, she could only think of selling herself on the streets. The parents were abusive, both of them. Favoring one child over the other and planting rivalry between the siblings. “i love you” means nothing. NOTHING, when there is no action to prove it. And if anything, this book made me realize that Nesta was never okay. She was never in a good place mentally. I mean, I knew, but this book just proved it. Her mother favored her alright, but it was not in a loving way. She simply exploited her to climb the social ladder. She didn’t give her love, she gave her instructions. She enabled the grandmother to beat her, and instill some “harsher punishments” one of which Nesta still holds the scars for. She was called worthless, as a child. Why? Because she made a wrong step in a dance. She was physically and verbally abused, and her mother let it happen. Yet she was the only one who would give Nesta the time of day so Nesta still loved her. As a child, her mother was the only person who showed interest in her and she clung to. However twisted it was, it’s the only love she ever got. The only love she knew. Then she lost her. and later the family also lost their wealth. So all she was taught to do her entire life suddenly became meaningless because she can’t achieve what her mother “trained” her to do. And we know the rest of the story. She never felt at home, not even when her mother lived and she still had that wealth. She admitted as much. She was never fine. She might’ve appeared the part, but it was never true. And since she was so good at masking her emotions, nobody was the wiser.

side note: As for her power being the “bare minimum” now, there better not be a plothole, since Rhysand couldn’t contain merely the “surface of her power” because it was too much. and if that’s all she retained, then it’s good enough for me.

[purplepenntapus]

Rating Versions of Harry Osborn: Updated

Wanted to redo this post with a more comprehensive and inclusive list of Harrys

616 Comics: 

Just such a good and complex character. The OG Harry. His relationship with Peter just adds so much depth to every Green Goblin arc because of the inherent conflict of Peter knowing he needs to take down Norman Osborn, but not wanting to hurt or lose his best friend. (If you’ve read Kindred no you haven’t.) He’s still... ugly... I’m sorry 616 Harry... I love you so much but they did you dirty... Some artists do their best with what they have but... I’m not a big fan of western comic style in general so that doesn’t help. Has three failed marriages by the time he’s 30 because he’s gay and deeply closeted.  8/10

Spider-Man the Animated Series (1994):

The Harry plotline in this show reeeeally doesn’t feel earned, because the first time we see Harry having an active role in the show, he asks Peter to move in with him because Norman wants him to have a responsible studious roommate  (a detail from the comics I was EXTREMELY excited to see play out), and Peter comments that they barely know each other. Ultimately they live together for all of one day before Peter decides to move back in with Aunt May. The next time we see Harry, MJ calls him Peter’s best friend, despite the fact that we haven’t seen Peter hanging out with—or even MENTIONING—Harry since the last episode when they were basically strangers. Really it feels like he’s just there to cause romantic drama as the guy MJ graciously settles for when she gives up on Peter. I found the whole goblin plotline kind of boring and lacking in depth.  3/10

Raimi Trilogy:

I was never interested in Raimi Harry until after I started liking and exploring other versions of Harry, because I just thought he was kinda a shit friend. He’s a pretty strong character overall, but his motivations aren’t as obvious. He’s torn between his love of Peter as his best friend, and his bitterness towards Peter for being the man his father wished he was. I don’t think Raimi Harry really wanted MJ, he just wanted to get back at Peter in a way by taking someone that HE loved. However I feel like his characterization kind of sways back and forth between sympathetic and not depending on how he’s written in the scene, and it disappoints me that the thing that gets him to stop tormenting Peter is the butler telling him out of nowhere that Norman died from his own blade, rather than any real character development on his part. 6/10

Spectacular Spider-Man:

I still haven’t watched all of this show because I... can’t STAND this version of Peter... but I’ve watched many clips with this boy and he’s just... so sweet... He only wants to be loved and keeps getting his heart broken. Deserves better. On everything. He deserves a better father, a better best friend, better love interests, everything. I do really enjoy the way they incorporated 616 Harry’s drug abuse into this show with the Globulin Green, it was a very clever way to incorporate that aspect of his character, but tone it down for younger viewers. I’ve watched the scene of him getting “unmasked” as the Green Goblin about a million times it’s very good. 8/10 

Ultimate Spider-Man:

I love him. Most people fear drifting apart from those close to us, so watching Harry struggle with the new and increasing distance between him and Peter as Peter seemingly makes new, “better” friends is downright heartbreaking. Especially when he overhears Sam implying that Peter only hangs out with him for his money which is something he’s clearly experienced a lot. (Seriously Sam what the fuck.) I also love his struggle with Venom throughout the series as a metaphor for his anger and bitterness, it’s never truly gone even when they work hard to remove it. It’s always there to bubble back up under extreme amounts of stress, especially when Norman is involved. (Also this isn’t a Norman review, but USM Norman is the only version of Norman Osborn that has rights and he works hard to be the father Harry deserves.) Had an honest to God meet-cute with Peter like come on???? Its unfortunate how much they cut back Harry’s role in the third and fourth season, I really would have loved to see more of him. Threw a party specifically so he could ignore Peter to his face because he was jealous and I respect that level of pettiness. 9/10

Spider-Man: The New Animated Series

I didn’t think it was possible to create an uglier Harry than 90s Harry but this blonde, fuck-boy lookin creepass came and proved me wrong. Who the FUCK is this?? Doesn’t have any recognizable characteristics of Harry Osborn besides being rich and hating Spider-Man. Also just... look at him. I wouldn’t trust this man anywhere NEAR my drink at a party. #NotMySon -3/10

The Amazing Spider-Man:

He’s okay. I think he has some very emotional scenes and good chemistry with Peter, but it’s dampened by the fact that he wasn’t present in the first film and had to share the second with like two other main plot lines. Ultimately ends up being the least sympathetic version of Harry Osborn because he became the original Green Goblin and killed Gwen, rather than following in his father’s footsteps. That’s not to say he’s a completely unsympathetic character. He has a strong motivator in his fear of death, and I do think the choice they made for his character were interesting and could have developed really well, but they didn’t get the chance since the franchise was dropped. 5/10

PS4 Spider-Man:

ABSOLUTELY ADORE HIM. WISH WE GOT MORE OF HIM. HAVING YOUR EXPECTATIONS OF HARRY OSBORN BROKEN AS YOU SNEAK AROUND NORMAN’S PENTHOUSE AND LEARN THAT HE’S BEEN SECRETLY STRUGGLING WITH A GENETIC DISEASE HE’S BEEN HIDING FROM HIS BEST FRIENDS FOR YEARS WAS -chef’s kiss- GENIUS. PLEASE GIVE US A SECOND GAME WITH VENOM HARRY. 10/10

Marvel’s Spider-Man (2017):

Still easily my favorite version of Harry Osborn. When I first began watching the show I was startled by their decision to make Harry a science genius like Peter because it was so different from their usual dynamic, and many people who aren’t fans of the show point to this as something they dislike. But I actually ended up really loving the decision. It gives a different flavor to Harry in how he reacts to the events of the show and how we interpret his character traits, while still being very inherently Harry Osborn. Harry is jealous of Peter, he loves him dearly, but there’s always this ember of bitter envy ready to burst into anger whenever the plot creates friction between them. This is one of the defining traits of their relationship and in most versions it’s not hard to understand why. Peter has what Harry wants. He’s intelligent, he has potential, and most importantly he’s loved. Peter is the son Harry knows Norman wishes he had, and that creates a wedge between them. Marvel’s Spider-Man changes this dynamic. Harry can easily stand toe-to-toe with Peter in terms of intelligence, and in fact they often work together to create things or solutions Peter couldn’t have come up with on his own. That initial wedge between them isn’t there, creating a very endearing and loving friendship that we know is doomed to sour because it isn’t enough. MSM Harry could be the person Norman wants him to be, and that places the full weight of his father’s impossibly high expectations on his shoulders, always within reach but never quite achievable. So it makes a lot more sense why Peter initially has a low guard towards Norman (as opposed to some other series where Peter seems oddly dismissive of Harry’s justified complaints) and Harry’s own steadfast loyalty to his father. On the surface Norman seems like a perfectly loving parent, he encourages his son, he created an entire school for him when he was wrongfully accused of sabotage, it’s only when you start to dig deeper into their relationship that you see the subtle manipulations and the issues Harry has from constantly chasing his father’s approval. This creates a Harry who is desperate for validation and extremely sensitive to rejection, which colors his relationship with Peter throughout the show. I’m still mad he got nerfed in the second and third seasons because Disney is homophobic. TLDR: I may be biased ... Infinity/10

MCU:

Where is he? Who knows? Man missing in action.  ?????/10

[ooops-i-arted]

I know that considering (TCW-2008) refs/characters in this episode that it won’t be your fav but can you please share your child development thoughts for S02E05 please??

They may have been stuff I wasn’t fond of but there were so many cute Baby & Dad moments to make up for it!!

First of all, the puppeteers deserves ALL THE AWARDS for bringing Baby Yoda to life!  Not just making Baby “come alive” in general, but also that sort-of-awkward way children move when they don’t have complete confidence in their limbs yet.  The are doing a phenomenal job this season and I hope they are all safe and healthy and have all the chocolate they want.  Not only is it fantastic from a special effects perspective, it really highlights how far Baby has come now that he’s not stuck in a pod all day and implies that Din is trying to keep him active and physically healthy, and giving him opportunities to develop his muscles and muscle control.  (Just imagine them playing a makeshift game of chase through the Razor Crest!)

I absolutely loved Din saying “Hey, what did I tell you” because I have said those exact words in that exact tone SO MANY TIMES and also his Dad Voice is getting so much better!  Baby actually listens to him and understands that Din expects him to listen!  Of course he still wants the ball (and apparently takes it enough that Din has been practicing his Dad voice on that too, “What did I say about that” is another phrase I also use at work).

Though there may have been another reason he wants the ball this time - as a comfort item, like a child bringing their favorite stuffie to the first day of school.  Baby was there when the Armorer told Din to find Jedi to bring the Baby to.  He has been listening a lot when Din talks about finding Jedi to train him and give him to.  I think Baby is very, very aware of the fact that the end goal is to leave him with the Jedi and is very afraid of leaving his beloved father.  He would’ve had stable caretaker(s) at the Jedi Temple but in the last twenty years who knows what’s happened to him.  His subdued, don’t-draw-attention-to-myself behavior in Season 1 definitely makes me think he’s been neglected, bare minimum, and possibly abused.  Din not only treats him kindly but actually takes care of his needs, is kind to him, and is the most stable presence in his life.  Of course he’d be terrified to leave him!

I think that’s also why he doesn’t play ball with Ahsoka, so to speak.  We all know he can lift a mudhorn, a rock is no problem for him.  He could do it in a heartbeat.  But I think he understood that if he showed off for her, Ahsoka might take him away.  So he refused for that, and because it’s very common at that age to refuse to do something to regain control of a situation.  (That’s why you get kids enjoying telling you “No!” and the whole terrible twos thing.)  If he refuses, he stays in control of what’s happening.  But of course Din knows exactly how to tempt him with his favorite ball, and kids do want to please adults they like.  Anything to hear that sweet, sweet positive reinforcement.  So it wasn’t just the shiny ball that convinced Baby - it was the fact that Din was the one playing with him, and that Din so enthusiastically tells him good job.  (And Din is noticeably more into it when using the orb.  Maybe he and Baby have played with it before?  So it’s more natural to both of them.  And he was truly so proud of his boy!!  It was adorable.)

It’s the same with hearing his real name, which he presumably hasn’t heard in twenty years.  He responds when Ahsoka says it, but when Din says it?  He’s instantly turned around, ears perked all the way up in “happy” mode.  It’s special when Din says it, because Din is special to him.

Which then ties into the whole attachment thing.  Baby is very healthily attached to Din.  There’s a reason we stick kids with the same teacher for a year plus at a time, it’s because kids are comfortable with a regular person they can get to know, just like adults are.  To Baby, Ahsoka is just some orange stranger and Din is his dad.  Of course he is more attached to Din and has fears over losing him, especially if he’s been deprived of that for the last 20-odd years!  It’d be different if Din was sticking around to transition Baby somewhere new, or just dropping him off for lessons.  But leaving a parent permanently and abruptly after likely previous trauma?  That would be horrible for Baby.

And re: The Jedi + attachments Ahsoka (and Filoni) are wrong on that.  The Jedi do not forbid attachments, only letting your attachments rule you.  Ki-Adi-Mundi is married and so were others, and there are plenty of Padawan-Master relationships to see - for example, Obi-Wan was attached to Qui-Gon and clearly loved him and was devastated by his loss, but it’s only when he conquers his emotions and calms himself is he able to defeat Maul, and afterward is implied/shown to mourn Qui-Gon and handle his grief in a healthy way.  Anakin doesn’t fall because he’s attached to his loved ones.  He falls because he’s willing to commit murder and genocide over his attachments.  So “I can’t teach Grogu because he’s attached to you” is bullshit.  “I can’t teach Grogu because he is attached to you and needs to be safely transitioned into Jedi life in an environment that is comfortable and safe for him, with your help as his adoptive father, and I have no way to do that here and/or don’t feel comfortable doing that” is much more accurate.  (This is probably what would’ve happened if the Order was still around, anyway, and/or how he was actually taken in - the 3D TCW episode with the Jedi children shows the bounty hunters tricking the parents to kidnap the kids, implying that a real Jedi would work with the family to transition the children in a safe and healthy manner.  The Rodian even says the Jedi have already spoken to her iirc.)

Of course even if Grogu is unhealthily attached to Din (which he isn’t, imo, he behaves like a child at a normal level of attachment to a regular caretaker he loves) then ignoring it and not doing anything about it is equally bad.... as we’ve already seen when he got upset with Cara last season.  Baby must learn to control his powers so he doesn’t hurt himself or others, especially since he’s so young he doesn’t always have full control over his own emotions.  “Big” emotions can be a lot for a kid; a screaming meltdown is bad enough when the kid can’t yeet you with their mind.  I’ve been hit, kicked, bitten, scratched, had toys thrown at me, even been hit with heavy wooden blocks.  A Grogu out of control with his emotions and using the Force?  Terrifying.  Yes, his attachment to Din makes him more vulnerable to his fears and anger - we’ve seen him choke Cara and while he only held back the mudhorn, in theory he could’ve done more.  But that is just all the more reason to teach him control.  Ignore harmful behavior and it will only get worse, and Din isn’t really equipped to help him navigate that since Din doesn’t understand the Force and can’t understand what Grogu says.

(Also lol at “He doesn’t understand” “He does.”  You can 100% tell when kids understand you perfectly and are refusing to do it, even when a parent is making excuses for their darling. xD  Especially since kids will frequently act/react differently to their parents versus other caretakers.)

“He’s hidden his abilities to survive over the years” I call partial bullshit on that.  No, I don’t think Baby has done any long-term planning or had thoughts along the lines of “I’m being hunted and need to protect myself by pretending not to be a Force-user.”  But I think he has probably figured out people react a certain way when he does Force things and perhaps decided “I shouldn’t make things float because then people will grab me/I will get taken away/other consequence I don’t like will happen.”  That’s more in line with a toddler’s level of thinking/comprehension.  And it adds greater weight to him saving Din from the mudhorn - he didn’t know how Din would react to him using the Force, if Din would try and hurt him or lock him in the pod or whatever, but he still wanted to save Din.  Overall though I think Baby’s Force-use is in line with a toddler’s thoughts.  “I want X to happen, I can make that happen with the Force, so I will make X happen unless I’m more scared of [consequence] happening.”

So overall a pretty revealing episode for Baby/Grogu.  (I’m not used to the new name yet tbh.)  Although I’m worried about how many times it will take Din hearing it to realize that yes, you are this baby’s father, get that through your beskar-plated skull.

[pillage-and-lute]

Can I have some Book! Geralt,who somehow happened to be in show universe,meeting Jaskier, who after some prodding from him tells B!Geralt about mountain and B!Geralt is furious? At some point they meet show! Geralt and B!Geralt makes sh!Geralt jealous because he knows Jask's feelings are not unrequited,but only after making sh!Geralt understand that that is not how you treat your best friend in the whole wide world. I just want some sh!Geralt/Jask with a little help from B! Geralt Thank you <3

Hi Sadpathologist!

Have I read the books? no, but I intend to.  I’m giving this a whack nonetheless! 

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Jaskier about leapt out of his skin when the tall, silver haired witcher appeared beside him at the bar. He seemed...different. Jaskier’s brain, marinating in a fair amount of gin, wasn’t putting in the work to decifer the difference. 

Jaskier coughed.

Geralt glanced at him, looked directly at him, then went back to ordering his drink.

So that was how it was. Twenty two years, just to end up strangers again. 

Jaskier wasn’t going to put up with that. He deserved better than that. He wasn’t quite sure what all he deserved, an apology for one, but not to be given the silent treatment and a cold shoulder were definitely on the list.

“Hey,” he said. “Geralt.” 

The witcher turned. “Do I know you?”

Jaskier felt something little crush in his chest. “That’s not fair and you know it, we’ve known eachother for decades, Geralt.” His voice was getting dangerously wobbly now and it made him burn with shame but he didn’t deserve to be treated this way. “We were friends,” he said through the lump in his throat. “I know you never called us that but we were. I know we aren’t anymore but...” He choked, not able to finish the sentence and not sure how he would have if he could.

Geralt was looking at him, wide eyed.

“Dandelion?”

huh?

“I haven’t gone by that since Oxenfurt,” Jaskier said. His rational brain was really, really trying to tell him something about Geralt, something was weird, but it had been a lot of gin. “I’m not sure I ever told you that, either.”

Geralt picked him up by the shoulder and hauled him out of the tavern, into the light of day. It hurt after all the daydrinking, but realization slid into place and the shock had a better sobering effect than a cold bath.

“You aren’t Geralt,” he said. He began to twist about in the grip, captured by some Geralt-facsimilie. 

“I am, I am,” the not-Geralt set Jaskier down. “I’m just not- I’m not you’re Geralt. He pulled Jaskier into the stables and Jaskier took a good look, since the man didn’t seem to be actively trying to kill him. 

“You aren’t my Geralt,” Jaskier said. “The scars are wrong, and your beard is more grown in than you usually let it get.” He thought. “And I don’t think I told you I ever went by Dandelion.”

“What, never?”

“You-he never asked.”

“Okay,” not-Geralt said, sitting down on a sack of hay. “I’m not from here, I know a Dandelion-Jaskier, he looks a lot like you, but he’s blonde. There was this... thing, I interrupted some big sorceressy ritual, I’m sure I’ll get back in a couple of days but listen...what did you mean when you said we-you and your Geralt- aren’t friends anymore, that he never called you friends?”

The face, almost familiar, looked very serious. Geralt was looking at him with genuine concern and it was so close to everything Jaskier wanted, but the scars were wrong, there were little laugh lines and marks in the wrong places. The eyes were the same.

He believed this Geralt, too. It sounded crazy but, well...golden dragon men, djinns, devils, elves, Jaskier had known a lot of crazy.

This Geralt hadn’t asked for the whole story, but it felt so good to tell someone about it, Jaskier gave it to him anyway. From Posada to the mountain. His voice broke, and not-quite-Geralt put a comforting arm around him, rubbing his hair in a way he liked. It was as if he knew just how Jaskier liked it.

Jaskier full on cried talking about the mountain, but he never even talked about the final argument, merely saying Geralt had sent him away. He felt safe and appreciated but it wasn’t his Geralt and it was so close that it hurt to talk about it. The thought that in another life Geralt might be his friend, could be this more open, loving person ached. In this life Geralt would rather he be dead.

He sat there, other Geralt seemed baffled. After a moment he spoked.

“What a dick.”

Jaskier was thinking though. Maybe the difference wasn’t about Geralt. What difference in Jaskier could cause all this.

“Tell me about your Jaskier?”

Geralt-ish looked down at him. “He’s blonde, he wears loud clothing, more pinks and purples, and feathered hats.” A small smile crossed his face, and it was so beautifully, heart achingly familiar. “It took me a while to accept our friendship too, but he practically forced it to me. I love him more than anything.” There was a soft look in Geralt’s eyes.

“I can’t image a world in which we aren’t at least friends, if not lovers. I don’t think the white wolf was meant to be without his barker.” He made direct, blazing eye contact with Jaskier. “We need to find your Geralt and knock sense into him, if you can’t do it, I’ll take him outside and beat him from one end of the Continent to the other.”

“I don’t even know where he is,” Jaskier said.

“We’ll find him, if I were him I’d still be brooding at the bottom of that mountain.” Other-Geralt began slinging bags onto Roach. She looked exactly like Roach. Jaskier approached carefully. 

She sniffed him cautiously, but there must have been something in his scent she recognized because she nuzzled him appreciatively. Wrong-Geralt mounted up and looked at Jaskier expectantly.

“Well? Go on, get on Roach.”

“Oh no,” Jaskier said, stepping back. “I’m not allowed on Roach.”

Not-Geralt looked at him like he was stupid. “What do you mean you’re ‘not allowed on Roach’, you don’t have your own horse. You can’t walk all the time.”

Jaskier shouldered his lute. “I manage fine.”

Not-Geralt picked him up by his collar and deposited him solidly on Roach’s back. “Hold tight,” he said. “We can’t both ride her all the time, but we’ll take turns walking, it’s not too far to the mountain you mentioned.”

Jaskier wasn’t certain he wanted to go back to that mountain at all. 

This wasn’t his Geralt. This was a witcher from a completely different universe. One with a blonde Jaskier who still went by his old stage name. He could be completely wrong about all of this. He might love his Jaskier, but what if in this world Jaskier was truly despicable to his Geralt. A shit shoveler. 

He must have tensed because the Geralt he had his arms wrapped around twisted back to look at him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“There’s something you aren’t saying.”

Jaskier sighed, and they rode on a few more minutes in silence. He hadn’t gotten very far from the mountain, and it would take them only a few hours on horse back.

“When Geralt-my Geralt, told me to leave on the mountain...” Jaskier tailed off, the memory was still so recent and it stung. 

“He said something, didn’t he?”

Jaskier nodded, sure the witcher would feel the movement.

“It’s okay, you can tell me. What did he say?”

“He told me I shovel shit,” Jaskier gave a wet little chuckle. “He blamed me for every bad thing that happened in his life. Then he said...”

Other-Geralt held Jaskier’s wrist where his arms were holding on and rubbed his thumb across the joint sympathetically. Jaskier began to cry silently.

“He told me that if life could give him one blessing,” Jaskier said, leaning his wet face against the back of other-Geralt. “If life could give him one blessing it would be to take me off of his hands.”

Other-Geralt took in a sharp breath and brought other-Roach up short. He turned almost fully around in his saddle.

“He said what?” His voice was low and dangerous. There was real fury in his voice.

“He said-” 

“I heard what he said, he said that to you? He actually looked at you and told you that?”

Jaskier nodded. 

“Tell me,” other-Geralt said. “Did he leave you to get off of that mountain alone?”

“There were tracks,” Jaskier said, feeling somehow that he should defend his Geralt, although admittedly the witcher probably no longer deserved his loyalty.

“And, from what you’ve told me, some pretty murderous people not to mention treacherous terrain.” Other-Geralt nudged not-Roach into a trot, but his jaw was working the way Geralt’s did when he was angry.

“I’m going to kill him.”

“Don’t,” Jaskier said softly. Not-Geralt peered at him over his shoulder. 

“You know you don’t deserve what he said, right?”

“Yes of course, I didn’t deserve any of that.” Jaskier huffed ruefully. “Especially not after twenty two years.”

“Good,” not-Geralt said, turning back to face front. “So long as you understand that.”

They rode a while in silence, Jaskier’s eyes gradually drying.

“Do you love him?” not-Geralt asked eventually. 

“More than life,” Jaskier said. 

“Even after all this? No one would blame you if you fell out of love after treatment like that.”

“Even now, yes,” Jaskier sighed. “I think it’s because I understand him better than anyone. He isn’t used to dealing with his emotions, so sometimes he does it badly. I still love him, but he really messed up this time, he’s bad at emotions but this bad...it really hurt me.”

Other-Roach walked another long silence.

“I think it hurt even more because sometimes,” Jaskier took a deep breath, not willing to cry again today. “Sometimes I thought he might love me back, love me too. There were little things he’d do...”

“Like what?”

“Oh little things, he noticed when my boots needed replacing before I did, let me wash his hair. Tiny, sleep smiles in the morning, that sort of thing.”

“He does love you,” other-Geralt said. “I’m certain of it. We’re not far from the mountain now, and I have a plan, if you’re willing.”

“A plan?”

“Absolutely. It will be torture for him, and he’ll certainly apologize, probably confess his feelings too.””

Not-Geralt explained his plan. 

Jaskier listened.

“Won’t your Jaskier mind?” he asked. 

“I don’t think so, we have a flexible exclusivity, and this is for a very good cause, besides, we won’t go very far.”

“If you’re certain.”

“It won’t make you uncomfortable?” asked the other-Geralt.

“No, actually,” Jaskier said, grinning. “I think it’s a perfect plan.”

They reached the inn at the base of the mountain before nightfall.

Just like other-Geralt said he’d be, Jaskier’s Geralt was drinking with a single mindedness that was a little worrying. Other-Geralt turned to him.

“Sure you don’t want me to just beat sense into him?”

“No,” Jaskier said, mentally slipping into character.

“Okay then, ready?”

“Ready.”

Other-Geralt strolled up to the bar with Jaskier basically hanging off his arm.

“Pint for me, please,” he told the barman. “And one for my...friend.”

Friend dripped positively salaciously. 

Jaskier’s Geralt didn’t even look up, but he didn’t let himself be deterred. 

They sat with their ales close, but not too close to Geralt. Jaskier plopped himself, giggling into other-Geralt’s lap. He leaned into his ear and whispered flirtily, “tell me a joke?”

Other-Geralt chuckled, and oh, that sound in such a familiar voice made Jaskier’s heart skip in his chest. 

“Where does the general keep his armies?” other-Geralt asked. Jaskier thought, then asked,

“I dunno, where?”

“Up his sleevies.”

It was such a ridiculous joke, silly and lighthearted and so odd to hear in Geralt’s deep rumbling voice that Jaskier tilted his head back and let peals of laughter escape. He finally disolved into little, bubbling giggles and buried his face into other-Geralt’s neck.

“Is he looking?” he whispered, barely a breath so that sensitive witcher ears wouldn’t hear in the loud tavern.

“Yes,” other-Geralt rumbled. “He looks green with envy.”

Jaskier looked into almost familiar eyes, smiling. “Okay?” he whispered. 

“Yeah, okay,” other-Geralt said. He leaned in and kissed Jaskier. 

It was a lovely kiss, other-Jaskier clearly liked being kissed the same way, but it was fairly short. Then other-Geralt pressed little kisses along the top of Jaskier’s cheeks and behind his ears, beginning to trail down his neck.

“Jaskier.”

It was his Geralt, standing over them. Jaskier looked up. “I’m busy,” he said, then leaned in to wrap his arms around other-Geralt’s neck, as if he was going to kiss him again. 

Geralt lifted him off by his collar. 

“What the hell are you doing?” he growled. Jaskier noted with amusement that he was making his voice deeper than usual, like a tom cat fluffing it’s tail. The bard crossed his arms as his feet hit the floor. 

“I don’t see why that’s any of your business,” he said, although part of him just wanted to melt into that familiar gaze. “Especially since you decided it would be a blessing for me to be taken off your hands.”

Other-Geralt, with expert timing, pulled Jaskier back into his lap, sliding one hand up to Jaskier’s inner thigh. It was almost indecent, although not really, but Geralt looked ready to explode. 

“I don’t know if you noticed,” other-Geralt said, voice pitched suggestively. “But your hands aren’t what he’s going to be on.” This was accompanied with a truly indecent hip thrust, rolling Jaskier where he was sat on other-Geralt’s lap. The witcher wasn’t hard, and it was all an act, but Jaskier couldn’t help blushing a little. This was, after all, the body double of his Geralt. 

He looked up at Geralt. “You can go now,” he said.

His Geralt looked so conflicted that Jaskier’s heart went out to him. He could see the emotion running across Geralt’s face. Guilt, regret, loss, betrayal, anger.

“Please, Jaskier,” he said. 

“Please Jaskier what?” just because he still loved the idiot didn’t mean he was going to make this easy. “Please Jaskier leave me so you don’t shovel more shit into my life?” Geralt winced.

“Please Jaskier take yourself off my hands because after more than twenty years I still don’t think of you as a friend?” Geralt winced again. Other-Geralt had started leaving teasing, butterfly kisses along his neck again, and was shifting in his seat. It wasn’t sexy, and his hips weren’t rocking against Jaskier, but to Geralt it must surely look that way.

“Please Jaskier, find your own way off this god-forsaken mountain with murderers and monsters and, oh yeah, all the provisions were in your pack and I had to forage and not poison myself?”

Other-Geralt growled his displeasure at that detail. Geralt’s shoulders slumped. Jaskier tapped other-Geralt’s leg to let him up and they both stood. 

“I’m going outside,” he said. “If you want to say something, come too, if not, I’m leaving.” Jaskier smiled flirtatiously at other-Geralt. “And he’ll be going with me.”

Geralt followed him outside. 

Other-Geralt followed too, but at a slower pace so they could talk. 

In the stables, hoping Geralt wouldn’t notice the identical Roaches side by side, he whirled around, finally letting out every last bit of anger, betrayal and frustration he’d been feeling.

“Twenty two years you stupid bastard!” he yelled, poking one finger into Geralt’s chest. “Two decades!” he smacked the armor with an open palm. “And in all that time not once could you bear to so much as call me you friend! You ASSHOLE! And I love you! That’s not fair because I STILL love you! And you DON’T DESERVE IT! But I LOVE YOU!” 

Jaskier took a tiny breath then continued yelling. 

“And I KNOW you love me too! You don’t do the things we did for one another without love! It might not be the way I love you, that’s okay, if you only love me platonically, but you love me! I was so SURE you loved me! AND THEN YOU LEFT ME ON THE MOUNTAIN!”

Geralt opened his mouth and Jaskier slapped a hand over it. He wasn’t sure at what point during the screaming he’d started crying but he wasn’t about to lose momentum now.

“NO! I’m talking now! You LEFT ME ON THAT MOUNTAIN! I COULD HAVE DIED! YOU DON”T DO THAT TO PEOPLE YOU LOVE!” Damn it all, he was losing momentum, he was crying for real, sobbing. And the sobs were choking his anger. 

“You told me I was a burden and a curse,” he said between sobs. “That I had only ever caused you misfortune.” He sucked in a breath and looked into tortured golden eyes. “You told me that if life could give you one blessing it would be for me to be taken off your hands. How did you mean that? Did you mean simply that you would never see me again? Or did you mean me dying on that mountain without a pack and without food or water? Or did you mean me falling on that mountain and dying alone and in pain on the rocks below? Did you mean me getting murdered by the bastards who’d gone on that dragon hunt?”

Jaskier was sniffling great, snotty pauses in his sentences. “Or maybe you just wanted some peace and quiet, like that time with the djinn.” He stepped back from Geralt and met his gaze, watery though his own eyes might have been. “So tell me, how did you mean it, Geralt?”

“I didn’t.”

It was a whisper, then Geralt knelt in the straw and took both of Jaskier’s slightly shaking hands in his own. 

“I swear on my life, Jaskier I didn’t mean it.” 

His gaze was so honest and open and he looked so tortured Jaskier wanted to forgive him and fall into his arms right there, but he was still hurting so badly.

“You said it though, it almost came true, like with the djinn, am I that much of a burden to you?”

“No!,” Geralt stood, not releasing Jaskier’s hands. “No,” he said a little more calmly, stepping closer. “You are the greatest gift of my life, my treasure, my friend,I swear it.”

Geralt looked at Jaskier’s face, gold and blue meeting in the dim stable light. 

“I don’t know if you can believe my oath, but I swear to you, on the name of every witcher, alive or dead, on the medallion I wear around my neck, Jaskier. Jaskier, you are my truest blessing.”

He pulled Jaskier into a perfect, soul numbing hug. 

“I’ve hardly slept,” Geralt whispered. “I’m so, so sorry. I’ve hardly slept for the thought that I’d killed you. Fed you to that mountain.” Geralt was taking great, shuddering breaths, his shoulders trembling, tremors in the earthquake taking over him. “I thought I’d killed my love. I’m so sorry, Jaskier. My love. I do love you, not as friends. I love you like a ballad, and I could have killed you.” 

Geralt was crying, Jaskier realized. His tear ducts may have been dry but he was crying all the same, clutching to Jaskier like a lifeline, like Geralt himself had been left dangling from the mountainside and Jaskier was his rope.

“I’m sorry Jaskier, so, so sorry. I’m poor with emotions and I took it out on you and it could have killed you,” Geralt said, his face buried in Jaskier’s hair, squeezing him tight like he wanted them to be glued together. “I didn’t mean a word of it I swear, and I searched that thrice damned mountain for you until I found your tracks leading you safely away.”

“I wanted to kill you,” other-Geralt said, stepping around from the corner of the stables. “You’re lucky he still loves you, or I might have.”

Geralt-Jaskier’s Geralt, for ther first time got a decent look, not obscured by jealousy or dim lighting, of other-Geralt.

“Oh,” he said. “You’re...”

“You? Yeah. It’s hard to explain but it involves blundering in to some sorceressy bullshit.” Other-Geralt clapped one massive hand onto Geralt’s shoulder and stared into his face, gold meeting gold. “I have a bard in my world, and I’ll be returned to him soon. He is truly my greatest gift. I want nothing of your bard but for him to be happy, because I do not believe in any world where I and my love are not at least companions.”

“I understand,” Geralt said.

“No, I don’t think you do,” other-Geralt said. “If I ever somehow, and I don’t know how, get a dream I suppose, that you mistreat your gift again, I will slice open this wall between worlds and hunt you down myself.”

A whistle came from behind them, and the three men turned. Jaskier looked into a face very similar to his own. It had a goatee. And blonde hair. The man was standing next to a glowing portal.

“Geralt,” the other-Jaskier, Dandelion, Jaskier supposed, said. There was relief in his voice. He leapt to his witcher and there was a kiss so vigorous that Jaskier, singer of two dozen bawdy songs, looked away. 

“I feared I’d never find you,” the blonde said. Other-Geralt grinned at him.

“I always knew you would, my love.”

He turned to Geralt and Jaskier, standing dumbstruck. “I guess my work here is done.” Here he pointed at Geralt. “Remember my warning.” He mounted up on his Roach and with barely a sound to mark their leaving, the pair left.

“Well,” said Jaskier, sitting on a barrell. 

“Well,” said Geralt, standing stunned in the center of the stables.

“I’m glad at least somewhere we sorted ourselves out,” Jaskier said, smiling sadly.

“I want that to be us.”

“What?” 

“I want to be able to kiss you like that, someday.” Geralt crossed the room towards Jaskier. “I want to turn to you someday and not be so...so stupid, so emotionally stunted, that I can name you as ‘my love’ in front of others.”

“But...”

“Jaskier, I never called you friend because it ached that you saw me as friend when I wanted you to be more, and now I’ve had a taste of losing you and I would walk over fire never to do so.”

Geralt got down on his knees in the stable and reached out with one hand. His fingers curled around Jaskier’s neck and pulled him closer until their foreheads gently met.

Somehow it was more intimate than a kiss.

“I forgive you,” Jaskier said. “And I love you, always.”

Geralt tilted his head up and captured Jaskier’s lips. 

It was sweet and perfect and Geralt pulled back and planted so many more beautiful, chaste kisses that they fell like rain. 

Then he pulled back and tugged Jaskier to his feet, a little, toe-tinglingly sexy growl escaping him.

“My love,” Geralt said, clearly savoring the phrase in their little bubble of secrecy. “I could eat you alive.”

“That,” Jaskier said, pulling back and smiling. “You may have to wait for.”

Geralt followed him out into the chilly evening. “For you I would wait forever,” he said.

Jaskier had a feeling that he probably wouldn’t make Geralt wait very long.

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Ope, you sent a request and I gave you a fic. 3812 words! hope you enjoy.

[this-is-my-procrastination]

hi!! i liked your works a lot and i wanted to request f, j and o for akaashi and atsumu? thanks a lot <33

fluff alphabet f, j, and o for akaashi keiji and miya atsumu

a/n: ahh i hope these aren’t too long haha, thank you so much for requesting!! :))

Akaashi Keiji:

F = Feelings (When did they realize their feelings? How did it change their behavior towards you?)

Akaashi quietly observes you for a while

Your little tics and reactive expressions ingrain themselves into his brain until he can close his eyes and picture your face almost perfectly

You’re studying together one day, and it starts off with the standard frequent side glances and an endearing awkwardness

But at some point, he feels himself leaning towards you subconsciously

Not in an obvious way, Akaashi just suddenly felt the urge to scootch closer to you or maybe to brush away that stray piece of your hair that had come undone

He immediately jerks himself back with a mildly troubled look on his face (on the inside this man is having a whole-ass existential crisis)

You tilt your head as you glance at him, and that’s when he knows

Akaashi’s already familiar with your different expressions of annoyance, sadness, happiness, etc., but your face right now was so innocent and clueless and cute and precious - he just felt an overwhelming urge to tell you about all the warm, helpless feelings you give him

He doesn’t, of course, because Akaashi at least tries to plan these things out

His realization doesn’t change his behavior a lot (he’s as sarcastic, chill, and straightfoward as always), but he does start doting on you more

He asks if you got enough sleep last night, sometimes offers to share his lunch with you, even gives you his jacket when you were shivering a little

Pure boi just wants to take care of you; it makes him feel more connected and might just be how he hints at his feelings to you

J = Jealousy (What makes them jealous? How do they deal with jealousy?)

Normally a pretty chill dude that you wouldn’t think ever gets jealous

It’s true that Akaashi definitely has complete faith in you and knows you can handle yourself

He also tends to internalize when it comes to feelings like jealousy because he knows they’re not rational

But that still doesn’t stop him from paying extra attention when you’re talking to other guys

Frowning, he monitors your situation from a distance. You might think he’s not paying attention, but the moment he sees signs that you’re uncomfortable or that the other person is getting too comfortable with touching you, he intervenes

Akaashi’s got skills galore at interjecting himself into conversations, and now he’s calling upon all of them plus his passive aggresive expertise

“(Name), please introduce me to this person. As your boyfriend, I’d really like to know who your acquaintances are.”

Narrows his eyes at the other person when he says “acquaintance”

Highkey throwing all the shade right then, but even after you introduce him, he subtly ends the conversation and pulls you away (after which he feels much more relaxed and comfortable)

Basically admits it if you tease him for being jealous

“Yeah, I was. Is there a problem with me feeling protective of you, love?”

O = Over (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If Akaashi at any point liked you enough to be in a relationship with you, he will hold that respect for you forever

Even if you made a mistake, he’ll continue to believe that you deserve a least an in-person meeting before breaking up

He thinks it over a lot before making the decision to break it off

This isn’t something he’d ever take lightly, and he’d use at least a good week to process and think about any alternatives

If there’s truly no other way, he’ll text you to meet him somewhere private, like a small cafe or secluded park

Akaashi tells you his intentions as soon as you arrive; there’s no point in dragging this out and hurting the both of you further

He’s very solemn as he tries to explain, and he tries to state his reasons as clearly as possible, but his mind is a whirlwind at that moment

Respectfully leaves after a few minutes, but when he gets to the car he can feel his eyes watering and hands shaking

Bokuto helps him a lot by keeping him active and engaged with his surroundings, but Akaashi can’t help but lie awake at night thinking about you

It’ll take him at least two or three weeks to start moving on in life, but he’ll always look back on the good times you two shared fondly

Atsumu Miya:

F = Feelings (When did they realize their feelings? How did it change their behavior towards you?)

I think his feelings will hit him all of a sudden

He’ll catch himself at home wondering what you’re doing at that moment

And Atsumu starts realizing that he thinks about you more than himself 

He’s not used to thinking about anyone that’s not himself, his spikers, or (occasionally) Osamu

So maybe he sees you struggling with something and, after teasing you a little, he helps you

And when you thank him with a sweet smile, he actually feels himself blush

All he can think is just “oh hell no i cannot be a simp right now”

After that incident, Atsumu might avoid you for a bit (he sees you in the hallway and literally spins on his heel, running into the nearest room to keep cool)

But his sets are noticeably less focused than normal, and Osamu forces Atsumu to man up and talk to you

He becomes a little more conscious of what he says to you. You notice that his mocking insults are almost fond sounding now and that he backs off a lot quicker if he sees he hit something sensitive

He tells himself that it’ll help you feel the same way

Because if being more sensitive to your feelings could make you fall as hard for him as he did for you, then that’s what he’ll do

J = Jealousy (What makes them jealous? How do they deal with jealousy?)

He’s used to getting what he wants, and when you’re not paying attention to him, he’s not

Cue pouty Atsumu

It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, he just doesn’t like anyone other than him looking at you like that

Feels protective because he knows how amazing you are and how much you tempt him (and if he’s that affected by you, who knows what other people could be thinking about you?)

Like one time, he sees you talking with Osamu, and you have the brightest smile on your face that he absolutely adores... but it’s not directed at him

Clenching his jaw, he immediately storms up to you both and snakes his arms tightly around your body from behind

“Babee, pay attention to me...” Atsumu directs a withering glare at his twin, “‘Samu, get outta here!”

If he feels threatened because a stranger is talking to you, he’ll be less kind (he might get triggered because you started blushing or maybe there was some kind of physical touch involved, which can be as minor as a touch to the shoulder, but Atsumu is not about it)

Straight up stalks over to you both, placing an arm aggresively over your shoulder

“Hey, who’s this?? Actually nahh, it doesn’t matter because he’s insignificant~ C’mere babe, let’s go. Bye now, stranger!”

O = Over (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Hm... Atsumu might send a break-up text idk :p

But more likely he’ll give you a call

I just feel like he might be too emotional to do it in person

Depending on his reasons, maybe he’s scared that he might snap at you and leave you feeling like trash (because no matter what the reasons are, he never wants to lash out at you like that)

So he sends a warning text like “we have to talk about something serious” and then call so he can at least break the news with his own voice

Atsumu’s words might come off nonchalant and almost harsh, but it’s accidental; it’s kind of a defense mechanism

He doesn’t want to hurt you, but he’s also so close to a mental breakdown that he can’t figure out how to break things off earnestly without becoming a crying, blubbering mess

So his words can seem cold, especially when you’re in such a fragile emotional state

But he stays on the line with you for as long as you need, silent as you express your emotions as freely as you want

But if you cry a lot, or your voice is really shaky, this man probably starts tearing up along with you

Just a mutual crying fest by the end, but Atsumu’s still not the type to change his mind unfortunately

He would’ve had to believe his reasons 100% to think about breaking things off with you

Still, he’s depressed and grumpy for the couple weeks after

Gets a little (read: a lot) bitter if someone happens to mention you

Volleyball helps him immensely during this time

He throws himself into improving his setting and techniques, rep after rep

Atsumu tries to avoid all thoughts related to you because they never fail to make his chest hurt

In the end, he knows it was his own decision so he tries hard to move on

[ffangirlingsince2001]

The Witcher and the Princess: Glimmer

*not my gif*

Geralt x Reader

Geralt of Rivia is not a babysitter, he is not a bodyguard, and he has no interest in transporting princesses across the continent. Until gold is offered and for the next 90 days he’s saddled with a chirpy, bubbly, princess, who is betrothed to the prince of Narok and has a desire to see everything before she’s trapped behind another set of walls.

Warnings: Language, smut, angst, fluff

A/N: Sorry it has taken so long, we should be back to weekly updates. Only a few more chapters left (but I have an idea for another series following this one, announcement about that probably a couple weeks from now).

Geralt was sure he could have lived like that forever, lying naked with the princess beside him… or on top of him and certainly beneath him. Y/N was so full of life it seemed the spring had come early. Lying in her arms now made it seem impossible to stand, even with the constant nagging attacking his mind. They were drawing nearer to the ninety days, they had spent so much time in this silly little town where no one knew who they were and he wished that he could forget all about Narok and its stupid prince that doesn’t deserve the princess that was currently curled into his side.

But he would have her, and there was nothing Geralt or either of his swords could do about. She shifted beside him, catching his attention as she sat up, stretching her arms towards the ceiling. He reached out to brush her arm with his finger, but she flopped against his chest with a giggle before he could reach her.

“Good morning,” she laughed, throwing her hair over she shoulders and laid her head against his chest, pulling herself closer until she was straddling his waist. He rested a hand on her back and they sighed in unison. “How many days?”

That was the question he was dreading. It pained him to know that she was thinking about the inevitable just as much as he was.

“Eleven,” he answered trying to hold in the sadness as much as he could. She groaned and climbed off of him, fingers groping for the dress he had tossed aside the night before.

He hated that dress. He wanted to burn it, slash it, hurl it into the ocean. He wanted it gone, if only so that she could not put it on and leave his side. He remained in bed as she wandered around the room. Before, when he had been avoiding her at all costs and when he had been yearning for nothing more than the contents beneath her skirt, he had not been able to fully appreciate the intimacy of her morning routine.

For what he assumed was his viewing pleasure, she did not put the dress on at first, but instead draped it over the back of her chair. She crossed her leg and stared into the emptiness of space as she plaited her hair. Once the length was successfully tied to her liking, she would allow her eyes to flicker towards his: a silent offer to do his, an offer he always declined with a smile. Then she would pour water from the pitcher into the basin and splash water across her tired eyes until they were as bright as the day he had met her. Water would run down her neck and over the slopes of her chest, catching in the natural dip of her hips. The little droplets would catch on the ringlets of her hair when she sat up, hanging on like little diamonds. It was then that she would pull the dress on, and while he hated the sight of her body being covered by the rough fabric, he could not deny that the way she tauntingly pulled it over her body was just as sensually tempting as when she pulled it off.

This was where he came in.

She would stroll over to him and turn, her back exposed as she allowed him to tighten the laces that held the dress tight against her figure. He would linger there as long as he wished, blaming inexperience on the constant fixing and refining of the thin laces. They would both smile knowingly, aware that he had been lacing and unlacing woman’s dresses long before she was even a thought in her father’s mind. When he was finally finished, he would pull her close and press a kiss to her lips, rough and harsh… and exactly what she wanted. When he kissed her she never wanted tentative, never wanted caring. She wanted to feel bruised, and when he failed in making her feel such, she had no problem telling him so, scathing remarks biting harder than anything else.

Once she had informed him that she did not have time for hesitation, that if he was going to make love to her, he had better do so quickly before she escaped to another part of the inn and found a lover who was better suited to satisfy her needs. He had made her cry that night, jealousy and rage fueling every thrust, not caring when her nails dug to deep into him as she simultaneously tried to push him away and pull him closer. He had apologized when the adrenaline had left him, but she had ignored him staring at the bruises he had not hesitated to leave across her body. He had tried to cover them with his body, hold her tightly, but she had pushed him away.

“I’m admiring them,” she had spat. He had held back after that, sitting in quiet satisfaction after each night while she stared at the once perfect skin, light fingers tracing where his hand had once gripped her.

Now he was kissing her just as fiercely, but his hands left no bruises. It was a silent understanding that soon her husband would lead her to his bedchambers, and it was unlikely the number of bruises would not lead to questions.

After releasing her, he pulled on his own clothes and hoisted his pack over his shoulder. It was time to leave, to abandon the intimacy of the morning for pure professionalism. No one glanced their way, no women whispered about them, no man raised an eyebrow suspiciously. They were two strangers, wandering a nameless town, with nothing but a single horse between them. No cared, let alone worried about the unfortunate couple.

Once they reached the forest, the birds cared even less and he did not hesitate to wrap his arm around her waist, relishing in the feeling of her rocking against him.

“Eleven days, you say?” she asked softly, voice echoing over the emptiness of the morning. He nodded, the silence of the motion speaking louder than anything that had been said between them before then. “Ninety days doesn’t seem that long when you reach the end.”

“It does not.”

“I would assume that they would have been torturous for you.”

“Then you would have assumed wrong.”

“Are you saying there has never been a day when the gold didn’t seem worth it.”

“Not recently.”

“But once upon a time…”

“Yes, when you were nothing more than a princess.”

“So just before the sex.”

“No, you were more than a princess long before the sex.”

“When?”

“The snowstorm.”

“The first time you had me undressed.”

“The first time I realized you cared more for others than yourself.”

“How do you figure; I have entitlement written in every pore.”

“I told you not to speak, and even in absolute misery you continued in silence.”

“I believe that is called petulance.”

“Call it what you want, had you been any other princess I have encountered the complaints would have never ceased.”

“There have been other princesses?”

“Not as meaningful as you.”

“Because the sex wasn’t as good or because you never had the chance?”

“I was never interested, but that’s not why.”

“Why then? Please enlighten me.”

“I killed the other, I try not to linger on the lives I take, I find it depresses me.”

“Promise?”

“Promise what?”

“That you don’t linger on the lives taken.”

“Are you jealous of a princess who has not lived for a hundred years?”

“No, I just want to know if that’s true.”

“It is.”

“Promise?”

“If it makes you feel better, I promise, but just know that I still think it’s jealousy.”

“If it strokes your ego, keep thinking that.”

He smirked and they continued riding, silence enveloping them once more. It made him laugh, that she was jealous, even though he had lied about the sexual activity between him and the princess before. Even his interaction had made her seethe, a pleasure he had not been able to enjoy for many years.

They rode in silence for many hours, enjoying the closeness of one another while the day inched away into minutes and then turned to night.

“There’s another town an hour from here,” he informed her and she sighed.

“We could always stay here, beneath the stars.”

“Your wish is my command.” He pulled Roach to a stop and climbed off, assisting the princess as she slid to the ground.

They didn’t set up a camp that night, and they only laid out one blanket barely big enough for the two of them. Despite her commentary about the stars they did not do much stargazing that night, unless one wanted to count the stars in her eyes.

She did not undress, just led him to the blanket and climbed over him, legs straddling his thighs as she unfastened his pants and eventually slid into place, sinking onto him with immense satisfaction. With eager fingers he undid the laces he had so painstakingly tightened that morning and then undid the plaits that she had spent most of the morning perfecting. Her hair tumbled out around him and the neckline of her dress slipped further down her chest, not quite exposing the sight he longed to see but enough that he grew harder just imaging what was beyond those few inches of fabric.

She rocked against him almost longingly, the first time the sex had not been rough and fast. Skin did not slap against skin, but caressed. She gripped his shoulders with the same tightness as before, but it was not in fear that he would throw her through the air but because she was afraid he would let her go.

“Don’t leave me,” she whispered so quietly he was sure she had not meant to utter it out loud. At first he didn’t answer, not wanting to draw attention to the accidental utterance, but when she repeated the desperate cry his heart broke.

“Never,” he lied, knowing full well that in eleven days he would disappear among the crowds and never see her again.

“Say it again,” she cried out, hips becoming more frantic.

“I’ll never leave you.” She gasped as she came undone around him, spasming as he joined her. She pulled herself from him and tucked him away into his pants once more before laying her head on his chest and crying softly as she fell asleep.

He lay in absolute confusion as he stroked his fingers through her hair. It had never been like this, so melancholic that he had felt that she had taken something from him. He had never felt his soul grow heavy as she rested her head against him, but in that moment the end of the eleven days seemed far more worrisome than it had when the day had begun.

Tag list: @mallorydoesstuff @facelessfiction @aphadriel-fanfic @raspberrydreamclouds @thegreattodd​ @saint-hardy​ @ravenclawsstolemybunies​ @queenofmankind @britty443​ @lonewolf471​ @utterlyhopeful-fics​ @persephonehemingway​ @fuck-me-gently-with-a-slurpee​ @josis-teacup

[reinerispretty]

beneath the moon (sokka x f!reader) pt2

hello!! and thank u so much for all of ur positive feedback on part 1! i really appreciate u :) i hope you’re having a great day!

pt1

pt3

As she rounded a corner, her face instantly smacked into someone’s chest. The force knocked both of them to the ground and (Y/N) groaned as she rubbed her nose. “Geez, watch where you’re going,” (Y/N) muttered as her eyes welled with tears from the pain. 

Yue was avoiding (Y/N). 

Because of their status, the two princesses had a routine that they adhered to. While (Y/N) was at her healing lessons, Yue attended meetings with their father. When (Y/N) watched Master Pakku train the men, Yue visited the Healer to make sure her health was in order. (Y/N) knew every single movement that her sister was going to make on any given day, but today was different. Yue hadn’t attended their father’s meetings, nor could (Y/N) find her at the Healer’s hut. The girl sighed and walked down into the city to search for her sister. 

It was an hour before (Y/N) saw Yue passing in one of the boats that drifted through the canals. (Y/N) walked along the icy sidewalks parallel to her sister. “Yue!” She shouted. Her sister glanced at her before turning away. (Y/N) rolled her eyes and stopped, watching her sister float further and further away. Then, she started running. Yue’s blue eyes widened as she realized what she was about to do. 

“(Y/N), don’t!” Yue shouted, but it was too late. (Y/N) leapt through the air and landed inside the boat, causing it to rock and splash icy cold water inside. The rower glared at the princess before turning back to his job. “You know that’s so dangerous!” 

“Sorry,” (Y/N) said as she caught her breath. “For yesterday, not for jumping in the boat.” Yue looked away from her and at the passing shops. “I wasn’t trying to insult you. I just got so angry when Hahn told me you guys were engaged.” 

Yue raised a thin eyebrow. “Hahn wasn’t supposed to tell you.” 

“Well, he did. And he was a real jerk about it too, asking if he’d be Chief one day. I told him that I’d rather choke on sea prunes than let that happen.” 

Yue giggled. “That wasn’t very kind of you.” 

“You’re the kind one,” (Y/N) said with a smile. “Happy birthday, Yue.” Her older sister smiled at her softly before leaning forward to hug her. (Y/N’s) body tightened up, but she relaxed a bit to hug her sister back. “I got you something.” 

(Y/N) reached into her pocket and handed Yue a package wrapped in paper and tied with twine. Yue took it and set it in her lap. “You didn’t have to get me anything.” 

“Of course I did. You only turn sixteen once.” Yue removed her gloves and opened the package, unfurling the scroll that was inside. It was a picture of the two of them. Yue wore a bright smile on her face, while (Y/N)’s smile was much more subdued. “This is amazing! Did you paint this?” 

(Y/N) nodded, biting her lip to contain her own smile. “I’ve been working on it for a few months.” Yue hugged her again. 

“This is the best gift I’ve ever received,” she said softly. “I’ll cherish it forever, thank you.” 

(Y/N) waved a hand in the air. “It’s no big deal. Hey, could you stop right here?” The rower came to a stop and (Y/N) hopped out of the boat. “I have to go get ready for tonight.” 

“See you then,” Yue said, before the boat continued on its way. (Y/N) walked back up to her family’s igloo and to her room, where she began with the intention of picking out her nicest coats for tonight’s dinner. Instead, her mind wandered, and instead of getting dressed, she started digging around her room for a jar of paint that she hadn’t seen in a while. When she looked out her window, the sun was setting, and she nearly let out a scream of panic. 

She dressed herself quickly, combed out her hair and braided it quickly as she ran out the door. She ran through the city, dodging passerby like she had done this before. (Which she had. As much as (Y/N) despised being late, sometimes she lost herself in her own little world, where time passed super quickly.) She ran across the bridges and hopped over canals to reach the courtyard where the feast would take place. 

As she rounded a corner, her face instantly smacked into someone’s chest. The force knocked both of them to the ground and (Y/N) groaned as she rubbed her nose. “Geez, watch where you’re going,” (Y/N) muttered as her eyes welled with tears from the pain. She could barely see the boy through her tears, but she could tell that he was from the Water Tribe. He didn’t look like anyone she recognized, but perhaps she had just never noticed him. 

“Me? You were the one running!” (Y/N) rolled her eyes and got to her feet, taking off to her destination. When she finally reached the steps that led up to the courtyard, the stars and moon has risen. She caught her breath, straightened her coats, and walked calmly up the steps. She felt the eyes of some of the elders on her, but she simply walked quickly over to where Yue was and sat beside her. 

“You’re late,” Yue whispered to her, a smile playing on her lips. (Y/N) shrugged. 

“Maybe next year I’ll be on time.” The two sisters giggled before their father started speaking. 

“Tonight,” He began, “We celebrate the arrival of our brother and sister from the Southern Tribe.” (Y/N) blinked in surprise as her eyes landed on the duo that had accompanied the Avatar. The girl was small, about a year or so younger than herself, but the boy was the one she had run into on her way here. His eyes met hers and (Y/N) looked away quickly, back at her father. “And they have brought with them someone very special, someone whom many of us believed disappeared from the world until now...the Avatar! We also celebrate my eldest daughter's sixteenth birthday. Princess Yue is now of marrying age!” 

Yue blushed as the crowd cheered for her. “Thank you, Father. May the great Ocean and Moon Spirits watch over us during these troubled times.” 

As Master Pakku and his students performed their waterbending, (Y/N) could hardly keep her eyes off of it. Yue had to pull her over to the feast table, where (Y/N) was sat between the two Water Tribe siblings and Yue was sat on the end. She felt a bit uncomfortable sitting between strangers, but she picked food onto her plate and ate quietly. The girl next to her nudged her with her elbow to get her attention. 

“Hi, I’m Katara, I don’t think we’ve met,” She said with a smile. (Y/N) smiled tightly back. 

“I’m (Y/N),” She said, taking a sip of water from her cup. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

“The guy on the other side of you is Sokka and this is Aang.” The Avatar waved at (Y/N) as he ate his food. 

“We’re very happy to have you all here,” (Y/N) said. “It’s rare that we get outsiders coming to the city.” 

“Hi there. Sokka, Southern Water Tribe,” The boy to her left said to Yue. (Y/N) glanced at her sister to see if she was welcoming the conversation. If she wasn’t, she would immediately shut it down. But Yue seemed to be enjoying herself, so (Y/N) relaxed and turned back to Katara.

“Are you and Yue friends?” Katara asked. (Y/N) furrowed her brows and shook her head. 

“We’re sisters.” Katara’s eyes widened. 

“I’m so sorry, Princess, I meant no disrespect!” (Y/N) laughed. 

“It’s fine, I wouldn’t expect you to know that. We don’t exactly look alike.” 

“So ... uhhh ... you're a princess, huh?” (Y/N) heard Sokka say. “You know, back in my tribe, I'm kind of like a prince, myself.” 

Katara laughed. “Prince of what?” 

Sokka turned to face her, his eyes instantly meeting (Y/N’s). She saw the recognition pass over his face as he said, “You’re the girl who ran into me today!” 

(Y/N) pursed her lips. “Sorry about that. I was late to, well, here.” She shrugged, taking another large sip of her water. 

“You ran into him?” Yue asked. Her sister nodded. 

“Like, really hard. My nose still hurts.” 

“Not as much as my butt does from being knocked over,” Sokka grumbled, before turning back to Yue. 

(Y/N) turned back to Katara and engaged in pleasant conversation with her the remainder of the night. She told (Y/N) all about their adventurers on their way up to the Northern Water Tribe and each one had (Y/N) absolutely transfixed. “I’ve lived here my whole life,” she said. “I’d love to see something other than snow.” 

Katara had laughed. “I felt the same way!” 

(Y/N) and Yue walked home together, their arms linked. Yue rested her head on (Y/N’s) shoulder. “I really liked the boy I met tonight. Sokka? Did you get a chance to meet him?” 

(Y/N) held in her smile. “Not formally. You spent the whole night keeping him to yourself.” Yue giggled, her face blushing a bright pink. “I’m glad you had fun. You deserve it.” 

“He wants to meet me to do an activity together.” (Y/N) raised her eyebrow. 

“What kind of activity?” Yue gently nudged her sister in the side. 

“Nothing like that, you goose.” (Y/N) grinned. “Just...hanging out.” 

“I wish I could see Hahn’s face when he sees the two of you ‘hanging out.’“ 

“Do you think he’d be mad?” (Y/N) shrugged. 

“I, for one, don’t care at all about Hahn’s feelings. As long as you’re doing what makes you happy, Yue, it shouldn’t matter.” Yue hummed as they reached their igloo and said their goodnights. 

“Happy birthday, Princess!” (Y/N) called out to her sister as she walked down the hall. 

“Thank you, Princess!” Yue called back. 

---

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