#that doesn’t mean that the nonnies aren’t allowed to dream of that or ask me how that could possibly look like

[darkfictionjude]

I also never thought of the ROs are parents and i just can't picture them as one. I guess i could for Imre to some extent (especially compared to Nia and Lorcan) but even then idk it just doesn't feel right? I also don't think any of the ROs would be great parents, and neither would MC tbh lol

I feel like they would need to go to therapy first of all, all four of them to be able to even think of having children.

I don’t maybe it’s because they’re young? I don’t know what it is but I can’t picture them older and I can’t picture them procreating and being parents then grandparents maybe it’s due to the nature of the story, maybe it’s because I never thought of a season 3 where that could conceivable happen I don’t know what it is

[dadsbongos]

I never realized how much I needed antag reader until I read them on your blog (which I love btw you're so good it's insane) I'm really curious of what pre-game antag reader was like, so could I request for pre-game antag reader before remnants of despair and how she interacts with her fellow classmates and Hajime (reserve course Hajime needs a hug). Thanks!!

i love this :)))) thank you so much for asking this nonny

Request for: Hajime Hinata (and the class ig but we all know who the focus is on this series) Warnings: god complex, antag reader tings (bullying) ~~~

Headcanons:

🐇Honestly I feel like it’d be more interesting if this was for V3 but this is still epic 🐇I think she’s still kind of an asshole but not so much as she is in-game 🐇Definitely a cocky person too 🐇Just like really teasing and annoying like Hiyoko but with a God complex 🐇”God, Mikan, we get it, you tripped. What else is new, bitch?” 🐇I feel like in-game she would help Nagito plan his bs just for funsies 🐇Pregame she’d probably do anything she could to keep Nagito around cuz he literally worships her and the others 🐇So he’s her widdle servant who she sometimes makes get her things from vending machines and talk to people she doesn’t want to 🐇Open about her talent cuz she sees it as incredible and better-than-the-others 🐇Unlike in-game where she lied about it and hid it for fun 🐇Actually though? She probably has actual friends in pregame 🐇And probably even somewhat befriended Hajime with Chiaki 🐇Just can’t stand people like Hajime who have NO confidence (even Nagito to an extent), she thinks it’s kinda annoying lmao 🐇^Says the bitch who’ll cry if you point out she said something wrong

Stories: 

“Lady (Y/n),” Nagito grinned, extending his hand and offering her a can of soda, “I got way too many on accident, would you like one? Even though my dirty hands have already soiled it.”

Already taking the can from her classmate, (Y/n) quirked a brow at him, “Did you clear out the machine, again?”

“Aha,” he awkwardly chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, “Lucky me, I suppose.”

“Quite,” the girl kicked her feet up and onto her desk, “Unfortunate for everyone else then.”

“It is,” Nagito nodded glumly, settling back into his seat beside her, “Such refreshing beverages shouldn’t have been wasted on me.”

“God, I swear, you and Hajime both need to have more confidence,” grumbling, (Y/n) rolled her eyes and set the can down on her desk, “I like when you dote on me and all - because I deserve it, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Nagito nodded.

“Obviously, but you need to believe in yourself more, you’re a human being and you deserve love,” she shrugged, “Even Reserve Course students and they’re- “

“Useless to hope?”

“Exactly,” (Y/n) giggled, patting Nagito’s shoulder, “You get it.”

“You touched me… scum like me was- “

“Shush.”

“Right, sorry.”

~~

“It’s just… a lot of work…” Hajime huffed, running a hand through his hair, “Not to bother you two with my problems, I’m sure being in the Main Course is more difficult.”

“Not really,” Chiaki mumbled, face practically buried in her handheld with (Y/n) resting her head on the gamer’s shoulder, “I kinda wish it was harder. The main classes are optional and the only required class segment is when we’re honing our talents. It’s kinda boring.”

“Speak for yourself,” (Y/n) closed her eyes, kicking a leg up and over the other to a cross and patting down her skirt, “As the Ultimate Copycat, I have countless abilities to hone in such a short time frame,” her lips crept up into a sick smirk, “But, of course, I manage it all. Naturally.”

Hajime sighed, “As much as I’d love to debate you on that, I’m sure it’s true. Even though all you really do is steal other people’s talents…”

“Excuse you?!” in an instant, (Y/n) shot up from the bench and into a stand in front of Hajime, brows furrowed and hand reaching at his uniform tie, tugging it harshly, “I can do whatever I want at the Ultimate level! I’m practically the best person here!”

“Then who’s the best?” Hajime scoffed, grabbing the girl’s hand and attempting to pry her fingers off his tie, to no avail.

She gripped it harder, tugging again, “Me but in senior year when I’ve only gotten better at my mastered talents, and don’t you forget it, Reserve Course dog.”

“C’mon, (Y/n),” Chiaki spoke between the couple’s fighting, “He’s your friend, don’t be mean.”

“She’s mean to everyone…” Hajime finally succeeded at pulling the girl’s fingers off of his tie, shoving at her hands, “Even her so-called friends.”

“Hey, I’m inspiring, aren’t I? You wanna be like me? Or at least as close as you possibly could to someone as wonderful as me, yeah?”

“No, you just make me sad that God allowed such a big ego in such a tiny heart.”

“Ego’s the brain, dipshit.”

Chiaki sighed quietly, shaking her head and refocusing on her game, knowing it’d be another few hours until they even came close to settling the argument.

~~

“Miss Sonia and Miss (Y/n) - together? I’m dreaming, aren’t I?” Kazuichi felt his body heat up at his own observation.

“He’s staring again, isn’t he?” Sonia placed her chin in the palm of her hand.

(Y/n) nodded, also settling her chin in the palm of her head, “Do you want me to say something to the bastard?”

“No, no,” the blond princess shook her head, “I’m afraid that saying something would only worsen his fixation.”

“How disappointing… say, you’re close with Tanaka, correct?” at the other girl’s nod, she continued, “Maybe you should introduce us sometime. He could teach me a thing or two of his ‘dark arts’; a spell to curse Kazuichi’s eyes into flames if he so much as looks at us.”

“My, (Y/n), that’s wonderfully dark, how did you come up with that?”

“Book Nagito wanted me to read, speaking of which, if you ever need suggestions you should go to him. He’s an excellent reader with incredible tastes.”

Sonia nodded, “I will certainly keep that in mind, then!”

“They’re so cute when they talk to each other, don’t you think?” Kazuichi held his chest over where his heart beat into his ribs.

“No, you’re fucking gross,” Fuyuhiko waved off, “Don’t talk to me.”

~~

“Hajime, you’re clueless.”

“Huh?!”

“You’re clueless if you think you need an Ultimate to be Chiaki’s friend, she adores you the way you are.”

“It’s not just Chiaki… it’s you too, (Y/n)...”

“What?”

“You’re always talking about how you’re so amazing and that Ultimate talents are necessary to be so great, it’s- I just- I want to be someone you and Chiaki can be proud to be around!”

“Hajime…”

Silence. And then, the floodgates broke open.

“Hajime, you don’t need an Ultimate to be someone I’m proud to be around. You’re intelligent, which is more than I can say for most people. You’re kind and caring when you want to be and it shows in who you are. You’re unabashedly yourself and that’s what makes you worthy of being my friend. Sure, Main Course students are objectively better than Reserve Course but you know why exceptions exist, right? It’s for you and others like you. As far as I’m concerned, you’re incredible.”

“But not to your level…?”

“No, but don’t feel bad, nobody’s at my level.”

[hookedonapirate]

hello, can i send you a prompt with more high school costume for oh daddy and/or priest/nun costume + very kinky/smuty + more spanking oh daddy story, they're so much fun :)

A/N: So this was a fun one to write. I mean who doesn’t love Priest!Killian? Thank you, Nonnie, for your request :) And thank you @itsfabianadocarmo for this wonderful art that put me in the mood to write some oh daddy kink.

Based on this one-shot: Oh Daddy

Other Oh Daddy Prompts: 1. You’re being an awfully bad girl l 2. Daddy, can you pass the potatoes? l 3. Better than coffee l 4. Caught In a solo act l 5. Naughty School Girl l 6. Busted

Bless Me, Father

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been two weeks since my last confession.”

 “Tell me all about it, my child.”

 “I have let the sins of the flesh overtake me, Father,” Emma intones, trying to push the excitement out of her voice. “Last weekend I had a dream.” She has to stifle a laugh as she waits for a response.

 “What kind of dream?” he asks huskily.

 “A naughty dream, Father,” Emma says in an innocent, childlike voice as she twirls the end of her pigtail around her fingers. “I had a naughty dream about a man of God… I dreamed that he… um… he touched me…”

 She hears him clearing his throat, his voice cracked when he answers, “He touched you where, my child?” 

 “My… my private place, Father.”

 "And how did it feel?" 

 Emma closes her eyes and imagines him in his clergy robe and clerical collar. "It felt soooo good," she says with a moan.

 "That’s a good girl. Now tell me, what did he do to your… private place? You must confess everything. Don’t leave out any details." 

 "It felt incredible, Father. I couldn't help myself. I let him finger me, and then he wanted to… he wanted to lick me."

 “All young girls have these feelings, my child. Did you allow him to taste you?” 

 “Yes,” she whispers.

 “Did you come in his mouth?”

 “Yes, Father.” 

 She hears a soft groan, and the corner of her lips pull into a smirk.

 “What happened after that, child?”

 Emma’s clit starts to throb from the images she’s conjuring up. “He asked me to put my hand around his… um, his penis,” she answers, feigning embarrassment.

 “And did you?”

 “I did,” she supplies eagerly. “I rubbed him until he rewarded me with white, sticky come,” she whispers. Unable to resist any longer, she opens her thighs and slides her hand up her skirt and into her panties, finding her clit to relieve the ache she feels in her core. “He shot his come all over my face…”

 “Did you suck his cock after that?” he murmurs, his voice strained with lust. 

 Emma rubs her clit in slow circles, feeling so deliciously naughty. “He was still so hard and so big… I put his cock in my mouth and sucked him hard. I took him deep in my throat and he held my head down until he shot his load in my mouth. He tasted so good, Father. I touched myself when I woke and I felt like a whore. Will God forgive me?” she asks sweetly.

 There’s silence, except for ragged breathing and stuttered groans. “God forgives all sins, my child. Did you let this man fuck you in your dreams? Did you spread your soft thighs for him?” he asks.

 “Oh yes, Father.” She fingers herself vigorously as she pictures her naughty priest bending her over his desk and fucking her from behind. It’s not long before her body jolts and she’s coming in her hand with a loud cry. “Oh my God, I just came, Father!” She slumps into her chair, trying to collect her bearings. She’s panting softly, falling from her high when she hears some shuffling, and opens her eyes, gasping at the view in front of her. 

 Killian is standing in front of her, his pants around his ankles and his cock hard and throbbing in his hand. He’s no longer wearing the robe, he left it in the adjacent room, which is a shame, but the clerical collar is still in place. She was so excited when he agreed to go along with this and buy a priest costume so she could pretend to be a naughty schoolgirl and he could be the Priest she confesses to before they fuck. 

 “You must be punished, child, for your naughty dream,” he groans. “And for touching yourself while you confessed to a Priest.”

 Her eyes are drawn to his dick, which hardens even more under her heated gaze, and she watches as he strokes himself, working his hand up and down the length of his shaft, the velvety head oozing with pre-cum. She can’t take her eyes off what he’s doing… her panties grow wet as she watches him. “What is my punishment, Father?” she asks, finally tearing her eyes away to look up at him, fluttering her eyelashes.

 “I must administer a good spanking to teach you a lesson. Now take off your blouse, love,” he groans, “I wanna see those gorgeous tits of yours.”

 She rises from the chair and does what she’s told, unbuttoning the blouse, slowly and teasingly exposing her white bra underneath, and slips off both, tossing them aside. His blue eyes darken with lust as he drinks in the sight of her naked breasts and pale pink nipples that stiffen under his gaze, the hand around his cock quickening its pace.

 “Rub your nipples,” he growls. “Pinch them and play with them.”

 Emma smirks and takes each of her hardened buds between her thumbs and forefingers, lightly rolling them and rubbing them in slow circles, letting a soft moan escape her lips at the delicious sensations surging through her body.

 “Mmmm, my sinful little schoolgirl,” he murmurs, a small, satisfied smirk stretching across his face. “Lift your skirt for me.”

 “Yes, Father.” Eagerly grabbing the hem of her plaid skirt, she raises it up as far as it would go, showing him her white cotton panties. 

 His eyes delve between her thighs, his free hand cupping one of her breasts, thumb tweaking her nipple, his breathing quickening. His warm hand feels amazing on her skin, she can feel her warm juices running down her thighs. “Fuck, look at those soaked panties. Is my little schoolgirl wet for me?”

 “Yes, Father,” she whimpers.

 "Good girl. Now, push your panties to the side, baby," he says, sweetly.

 She complies with a moan, reaching for her panties and moving the soaked fabric to one side. She loves it when he barks orders at her. 

 He groans and strokes himself faster and harder when his eyes roam over her gleaming wet folds. “Fuck, love… do you want me to lick that pretty little cunt?"

 “Oh, yes,” she whimpers, her voice wrecked. “Please, Father.”

 “Sit on the desk.” 

 “Yes, Father.” She pulls herself up on the desk, her heart pounding in anticipation as he gets on his knees. He parts her knees, allowing himself access and she eagerly lets him take her into his waiting mouth as she holds her skirt up, thighs on either side of his face. 

 He reaches up and tweaks her stiff nipple, squeezing gently as his hot tongue flicks lightly into her folds. Moaning softly, she presses her palms into the desk to hold herself up as she arches back, grinding into his mouth, trying to get more of his tongue as he eats into her. She enjoys the way his stubble scratches her thigh as his tongue laps up her juices, as he sucks her clit into his mouth, his fingers still kneading her breasts and pinching and pulling at her sensitive nipples. She cries out when a finger plunges deep inside her, fucking in and out, his tongue caressing her clit, lapping vigorously until she’s shaking.

 His other hand leaves her breast and curls around her hip as he finger fucks her and licks her up. She grinds against his mouth when she feels the pressure increasing, his hot tongue, sucking and nibbling teasingly on her flesh and he hits that spot with his fingers that has her screaming through her orgasm.

 “Oh, Father!”

 He groans and carefully removes his fingers, inserting them into his mouth and licking them clean. “Stand up, my naughty little girl,” he orders. “Bend over the desk. And spread those pretty thighs.”

 With shaking legs she stands and turns around, clutching the edge of the desk and spreading her thighs for her Priest. Her blood runs hot, her clit still pulsating, her cunt warm and wet, begging for Father’s cock.

 “Punish me, Father.” Her ass is high in the air as he yanks her skirt, shoving it up around her belly and pulls her panties down to her knees, letting his warm hands wander over her ass. 

 He smacks her right cheek, the sting sending tiny shivers of pleasure down her legs and through her core. “You’re enjoying this, aren't you, love?”

 “Oh, yes…” she whimpers all needy and wanton, spreading her legs further apart. 

 He slaps the other cheek before soothing his hands over her flesh. “What do you say, love?” 

 “Thank you, Father. Thank you for punishing me.”

 “That's a good girl.” 

 He spanks her again and again, until she’s begging, “Fuck me, Father!” 

 He chuckles, and she feels his stiff cock and warm, sticky precum on her soft skin as he presses it against her, smacking her ass again. “My little school wants her Father’s cock deep inside her, filling her up, doesn't she?”

 She bites back a moan, and when she doesn’t answer, he spanks her again. 

 “Answer me, love.”

 “Yes! Please… fuck me!”

 He pulls her panties further down and she lifts each foot so he can remove them, tossing the fabric aside. She braces herself against the desk when he grabs her hips and nudges the head of his dick at her entrance, slowly sliding it through her wet folds and starts pushing inside her.

 “Tell me what you want, Emma,” he says huskily, slapping her tender flesh again.

 “I want your dick in me,” she cries, trying to stifle the desperation she feels deep inside her belly. “Fill me up, Father!”

 “You want my cock, love?”

 “Yes, please!” She groans and tries to push back against him, her walls aching to milk him dry.

 “Tell me, baby.” His fingers tighten around her hips, hard enough to bruise.

 “Fuck me, Father Please!” 

 Finally, he plunges into her with one smooth maneuver, and pounds into her, claiming every inch of her tight, aching walls.

 “Fuck… Emma,” he groans. “So soft and tight for me…” His hips find a quick pace and he fucks her hard and deep his balls slapping mercilessly against her swollen clit, skins smacking, and she feels her orgasm already building inside her. He reaches underneath her and roughly rubs her clit, and she rocks back and forth, taking as much of him as she can.

 “Yes… harder! Harder!" she cries. “Come inside me, Father!”

 “Fucking hell, love,” he growls, pounding into her tight, wet pussy, his fingers working quickly on her clit. She’s so close… so, so close...

 “I’m about to come, father.” 

 And she does; she comes so hard, her walls gripping him tightly, her body trembling, knees almost buckling underneath her.

 “Emma…” He climaxes with a loud groan, hot come spurting deep inside her, his fingers digging sharply into her skin and loosening as the intensity passes.

 They're both still catching their breaths as he presses a few tender kisses down her spine. “We should do this more often, love." 

 Killian steps back, allowing Emma to rise from the desk. 

 “That’s not a bad idea.” She turns around and wraps her arms around the back of her boyfriend’s neck, managing a naughty smirk, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “I have many sins to confess, Father.”

[mychemicalficrecs]

Can you recommend some high school AU frerard or Ray/Mikey fics? :3 thank u

Hi Nonny!

I'm going to make seperate lists for this again. Can't promise the second one will be ready by tomorrow but I'll try ;)

I'm not a big reader of High School AUs, so the second half are fics that looked promising on AO3!

Frank/Gerard High School AUs

In Repair by autoschediastic, 33k, Explicit. "Shit," Frank mutters, and shoves both hands through his hair. He looks around the kitchen like he's gonna find what he should do scratched into the old linoleum, then looks back at the bot. He gnaws on his lip. Fuck it. He already knows what he's gonna do. He's just gotta do it. Getting down on his knees, he braces a hand on the edge of the crate and leans over the bot. It's dressed in a plain white tee and matching drawstring pants like an escaped mental patient. Frank rolls his neck and cracks his knuckles, shaking the ache out of them before carefully laying his palm against its cheek. He's pretty sure his voice is steady when he says, "Activate." Nothing happens. Fucking shitty packaging-- the thing's busted. But Frank keeps his hand where it is, jumping a little when he feels the surge of energy beneath it. The robot's skin goes from room temperature to lukewarm, then warm. Frank watches it open its eyes, the light behind them adjusting until they're a pale sort of brown. It looks at him and asks, "Am I dead?"

Get Naked (I Got a Plan) by autoschediastic, 11k, Explicit. Frank slides his hand all the way up to where Gerard's arm and tentacles fuse at his armpit. The difference between the feel of one beneath his palm and the other is literally the stuff his dreams are made of. His wet dreams.

A State Of Orange by gala_apples, Frank/Mikey, Frank/Gerard, 20k, Explicit. Being a halfling in a red state can sometimes cause issues for Frank Iero. He’s the weakest at Jett Clement High School, and probably the entire state (not counting the meal plans). His moods are oddly stable, as much as he tries to be mercurial. And being able to withstand the sun for up to twenty minutes only allows him more time to be forced into chores. Still, his parents are insane if they think he’s going to be happy about their decision. Frank doesn’t want to move to a Mixed state. How is he supposed to get great friends? How is he supposed to find great food? How is he supposed to have great sex? But Frank doesn’t have a choice. He’s New Jersey bound for the next year, if not longer. He’ll be surrounded by tame vampires who have been nagged out of a sex drive, and humans he’s not allowed to eat. Mixed states suck. Lucky for him, not every person in Jersey sucks.

The Truth Is I'm On My Way by samanthahirr, 6k, Teen And Up Audiences. Frank's been drawing on himself since elementary school, up under his sleeves and pant legs where his teachers and classmates won't see; he knows how to color inside the lines. He doesn't need Gerard to do it for him. (A high school AU.)

You Only Hear the Music When Your Heart Begins to Break by Solarcat, 14k, Teen And Up Audiences. Frank has high school figured out. His mom has given up arguing about the amount of time he spends in Gerard's basement, and he doesn't actually care if people think it's weird that he and Gerard hold hands in the hallways and go to the bathroom together. The only thing Frank cares about is figuring out why Gerard's suddenly avoiding him -- because what's the point of losing your virginity on Prom Night if you can't tell your best friend about it in the morning?

Smokeless Flame of Fire by tabulaxrasa, 21k, Mature. Frank blinked. "What kind of name for a genie is Gerard?"

to the midnight land by akamine_chan, 24k, Explicit. Being a teenager is hard. Being a Blooded teenager, one with a connection to the Moon and his fur-self, is even worse. He's got to contend with his own hormones, high school, and the fact that he's in love with his best friend. Luckily, Frankie's got the determination to see things through. He's got family, friends, and a community of shifters to lean on, and he's not going to give up. Frankie's not patient, but he's stubborn when he knows what he wants. And he wants Gerard.

Thing-Thing by sinsense, 43k, NC-17. When Gerard signed the admissions paperwork for the Fordhaven School for Boys, he knew he was signing up for four years of sexual frustration. No one was gay at Fordhaven. Gerard was all-too-aware that he would be a virgin until he graduated. In his senior year, though, this stupid gay freshman disproves Fordhaven's straightness, and throws Gerard's entire world off-kilter. Now, in between drawing, avoiding bullies, running an incredibly serious tabletop RP game, failing out of math, and hanging out with friends, Gerard is also busy kind of falling for this asshole who's way too young for him. It's not what he planned on, but it's what's happening. In conclusion: high school sucks.

You'll Always Feel This Way by wakingup, 14k, Not Rated. It's Frank's birthday and he's gonna A) get drunk B) hit on Gerard C) get laid. Yeah, it's definitely going to work out like that. (Spoiler alert: it might not be that easy)

Nothing Comes as Easy as You by rivers_bend, 9k, Explicit. "Um, I've heard, you know, around, that like, there are guys who can get off three times without stopping. And I was, I mean—" god he sounds like a fucking idiot. "Have you ever heard of that?"

Church of Hot Addiction by spleenjournal, 0nlymemories, Frank/Gerard, Frank/Mikey, 36k, Adult. When Gerard Way gets transferred to Our Lady of Peace in Arlington a few weeks into his Senior year, he thinks it's his chance to be cool. Too bad his idea of "cool" is no cooler than it was in 3rd grade, even if there aren't any green tights. (AU of the INO AU, more or less.)

The Marching Band AU by frankiesin, many pairings in a bunch of different works, 150k, General Audiences, Teen And Up Audiences, Mature, Explicit. A bunch of gay teens are in a band and do dumb things while in high school. There will be a lot of pairings, each part can be read without reading the others, and the series is in chronological order.

We're all Okay by rivers_bend, 28k, Explicit. A story in which Frank is not a stalker, Gerard is not a psycho, and Mikeyway is nobody’s boyfriend.

Where Did The Party Go by frenchpirate (Whiskey_n_speed), 16k, Mature. The one where Frank get's a new and nocturnal neighbor, Gerard throws a Halloween party that turns out far from what was expected, Pete wakes up on a strangers couch and Mikey really doesn't want any serenades (but that doesn't mean he isn't getting any).

Miss Congeniality by melusina, 11k, Mature. Gerard pretends to be a girl, Frank and Gerard discover email and Mikey’s good advice goes unheeded.

honey, this mirror isn't big enough for the two of us by orphan_account, 17k, Explicit. You should have raised a baby girl / I should have been a better son. (the unholy union of a high school au and a gender feel)

SKETCH by frnklyiero, 77k, Teen And Up Audiences. "You having a problem with drawing straight?" "I'm having a problem with being straight." Gerard Way happened to be the most fascinating sight in school to Frank Iero perhaps besides Jamia Nestor. Every little detail of his perfect features made Frank itch to sketch them. There are just a few problems: 1) Gerard is probably straight as a ruler, 2) Jamia isn't thrilled that her boyfriend may or may not have been secretly doodling Gerard in his notebook, 3) No matter how much Frank practices, his Gerard sketches still look like eggplants with creepy faces on them.

Save Me (From My Self Destruction) by cyanidepurified, 14k, Teen And Up Audiences. Frank and Gerard are best friends, both are unaware that they're in love with each other. When Frank discovers Gerard's secret, will he be able to save his best friend?

Speeding in a School Zone by 1001cranes, languisity, 16k, Teen And Up Audiences. High school AU where Frank and Gerard are awkward, Pete is romantically confused, Patrick owns, and Bob is a ninja. Pete, the first time we met you proposed to me. I don’t think your heterosexuality was ever all that secure.

The Chasing of Moons by Helena_Hathaway, 110k, Explicit. The biggest dilemma in all of this is that Frank slept with his future husband. Now Frank’s just got to make sure that the future with him stays intact, but it’s not so easy when present day Gerard seems to hate his guts.

Early Sunsets Over Monroeville by FedeLove96, 11k, Explicit. Frank Iero was a junior when he fell in love with Gerard Way, but their love story was just at the beginning.

A Case of Unknown Identity by Helena_Hathaway, 44k, Explicit. Frerard High School AU. Frank is a teenager with only a few friends, one of whom is a charismatic guy who is just like Frank. He might even be falling for the guy, but the only problem is that he’s just a username on a website without a face or a name. The guy goes by 'Watchman' and he’s perfect in Frank’s eyes, he doesn’t even need to meet him to know he’s amazing. Frank also deals with bullies which makes it hard for him to hold onto friends, but things start to become better after he befriends the antisocial kid Mikey, and realizes that Watchman might just go to his school. Watchman might also know a little more about Frank than he’s letting on.

But The Pages Are All Torn and Frayed by blindlyseeking (orphan_account), 55k, Mature. Basically, this is based off of the music video for “I’m Not Okay” and it also includes (but is not limited to) gratuitous mentions of a drunken fascination with a lamp, one evil lacrosse team, two breakdowns in a bathroom, grandmothers with green hair, a couple bruises, and a whole lot of revenge. Enjoy!

[migleefulmoments]

Abby-ism #11: Blackmail 101

As time keeps on slippin’ slippin’ slippin’..... into the fuuuutttuuuree it is obvious even to Abby that THE Contract is no longer a viable excuse for why Darren is not yet gay and why he is hiding his “world-changing love” from us. So Abby us flailing to come up with something else from which to hang her cc hopes and dreams. She has been hinting at something “really big” since the wedding-which makes sense since she spend 6 months definitely still her readers that THEY CANNOT MAKE HIM GET MARRIED until she did get married.  

Today we see signs that She is now working on refining that generality of “something big” otherwise known as “THE Contract 2.0″. 

Anonymous asked:

If this isn't about D's sexuality what is it about? I thought this whole mess Was The PTB protecting their sins closeting D and denying C and D a relationship while being hypocritical portraying a gay couple on gl/ee and the producer /writer being gay himself. Also the way they were treated on set. What other Bigger person or group can be involved? I'm really confused. I feel everything career wise is on hold per D and everything is about thePBB. See part 2

When I say it’s not about his sexuality, what I mean is they aren’t closeting him for roles. I firmly believe closeting him is what gives them power over him. How they keep him and c quiet. They need this. Is a huge crime. Add m is a danger to his well being and they e forced him to remain with her knowing how toxic she is. So yes that’s how they hide their sins. And ofc he has to be straight to sell the relationshit. So closeting him is required to accomplish their goals but I don’t think it’s because they are doing it for career related reasons. There is no career.

I do agree. He knew this was happening. And he does seem much healthier emotionally this year than last. That’s gives me hope there’s a plan.

But I still think there’s something bigger they used as leverage to force this

If this isn't about D's sexuality what is it about? Excellent question, nonnie,  because the very existence of Crisscolfer is because TPTB wanted to market Darren as a teenage heartthrob-in fact it was so important that they slammed the closet door closed, locked it up and forced him to marry a woman against his will. Darren is NOT allowed to be gay-i mean that is the entire reason we are here right? At least that is what I have been told for 9+ years but now we are exploring the idea that “closeting him is what gives them power over him. How they keep him and c quiet.”? Hmmm? So let me clarify this, 

Darren is gay 

TPTB wanted to market him as a teenage heartthrob so they had a contract drawn up that closeted him and Darren signed it 

First day on Glee set- we have Love at First Sight as both men fell in love instantly on the first day

But Darren had just signed THE Contract effectively closeting him. He had agreed to stay in the closest, to have a beard, to date only women- in fact one woman, he agreed to stay away from Chris, to not interact on social media   

She claims “I firmly believe closeting him is what gives them power over him. How they keep him and c quiet. They need this. Is a huge crime.” Yes, that would be a huge crime but this concept makes no sense.  What she is trying to describe is blackmail-but she doesn’t seem to understand the power dynamics involved.  

Blackmail is an act of coercion using the threat of revealing or publicizing either substantially true or false information about a person or people unless certain demands are met. It is often damaging information, and may be revealed to family members or associates rather than to the general public. It may involve using threats of physical, mental or emotional harm, or of criminal prosecution, against the victim or someone close to the victim. It is normally carried out for personal gain, most commonly of position, money, or property.

In Abby’s scenario, THE Contract which forced Darren into the closet and forcing him to marry ‘a woman he detests” is what needs to be kept quiet. TPTB committed the “big crime” therefore Darren holds all the power.  TPTB are at Darren’s mercy or he will tell their big secret. The only way for TPTB to be in a position of power in this scenario is if Darren is in the closest on his volition and he doesn’t want the world to know, giving TPTB the power over him if they threaten to tell HIS secret.

[auroral-melody]

Why do you ship Lucifer/Dream ? I'm just curious.

NONNY I LOVE YOU FOR GIVING ME AN OPPORTUNITY TO JUST YELL ABOUT THEM

As with most of the convoluted, context-less things I post (e.g., the full-on rewritten characterization of Beelzebub in Good Omens), it started with a simple conversation between myself, @procrastinatingbookworm​, and @aqueeraphale​…and ended up in a hence unwritten fanfic that maybe we’ll get around to eventually.

Put it this way: self-written fanfiction is the answer to why I ship them. I need to actually write it on a page for y’all. I’m not really going to go into ~Oh, My Ship Is Canon~ because it’s clearly not. I’ll point out a few things in canon I want to talk about, but this isn’t a “I ship them because [] and [] in canon” it’s a “I ship them because I HAVE FEELINGS ABOUT STORIES I WROTE/MY FRIENDS WROTE”.

So how did this happen?

I’m pretty sure it started with something along the lines of generally agreeing Dream being bi, on the basis of Lucifer Pretty. Which evolved into an, “oh, that’s fun! let’s write it” RP, along with some doodles (back in May 2018. My art has improved since, and my character design thoughts, but)

Which turned into the concept that basically goes as follows

- Morpheus lonely and depressed- Death essentially brings him to Lux, to definitely set him up with Luci bc hey obvs they’re both bi disasters. Maybe see what happens- Morpheus voice I don’t dance- Death voice Okay I’m lesbian but he’s being nice and offering so I’ll dance with Luci instead- Morpheus voice [shocked pikachu meme]

Basically, it boils down to the fact that Morpheus was a very…lonely and sad person and tends to make enemies easily. Lucifer clearly doesn’t hate him, or Dream would probably be dead in a ditch, but he’s obviously engaged in their relationship as friendly rivals. Lucifer has just left Hell, and is kinda not knowing what to do with himself. He’s looking for something new and different.

They’re both incredibly touchstarved/affection-starved. Morpheus intentionally isolates himself from his friends and family, not seeking out friends, while Lucifer has spent the last billions of years completely alone in Hell.

So the setup here works pretty well. Death wants to help her brother, Lucifer is like, the one person who isn’t pissed at him, Morpheus Sad.

From then on is essentially just what we’ve written. They end up…somewhat dependent on one another for comfort because they just aren’t good at investing in any other relationships. And Death and Lucifer become more friendly.

Morpheus and Luci’s relationship is…tumultuous at best. They care for each other, but they cling so much to the One Thing they like at the moment. It’s not exactly the best thing. So the fact that Dream transformed into Daniel was pretty awful for everyone involved.

This AU fits in with the Lucifer continuity mostly based on Lucifer taking place shortly after Sandman ends. Dream is not often brought up, but allow me to go through some places where he is, and how I interpret them in context of the AU.

Obviously, this will have some spoilers. Also light NSFW art.

Lucifer (2000), issue #8.

[Image Description: Four panels of the Lucifer comic. The first is a backdrop, with Lucifer’s text saying, “But to Dream of the Endless, I imagine it would look like poaching, pure and simple. And since he’s the gamewarden he wouldn’t like that at all.” The second panel shows him holding a sword over a goddess’s son. The goddess, Izanami-no-Mikoto, looks on. She is made of stone. He says, “He’ll do it. I won’t even need to compel him. If I speak his name, he’ll come, and see what you’ve made here. So it’s your call, Queen of Death. Heads I win, and tails -- tails it all comes down.” The third panel shows the goddess holding up a hand to stop him. The fourth, the kneeling son says, “She offers atonement, Lucifer Morningstar. She offers your wings.” End description.]

In the AU, it makes a lot of sense that Lucifer would be able to easily summon Dream of the Endless with a single word. “He’ll do it. I won’t even need to compel him” is an interesting phrase. The absolute certainty in Dream’s actions – even if this is after Morpheus’s transformation (which I’m not sure of), Lucifer characterizes Dream as though he knows him well.

Oof. Lucifer: Nirvana.

[Image description: A watercolor cream and purple comic panel. In the distance, there is a boat. From the boat, Dream of the Endless says, “Bearing in mind our previous meetings, Lucifer Morningstar, might I suggest a bargain? I will ask no favors if you will offer me no gifts.” End description.]

This is the only conversation I recall in Lucifer or Sandman in which Daniel!Dream and Lucifer speak to one another. Yet Dream says,

“Bearing in mind our previous meetings, Lucifer Morningstar, might I suggest a bargain? I will ask no favors if you offer me no gifts.”

In the AU, their relationship soon after Dream becomes this version is tentative. Hostile at worst. They might be trying to figure out what comes next.

[@procrastinatingbookworm​ and I did write a fic on this! Find it here!]

Either way, they’ve talked before.

[Image description: A close picture, misty, cream and purple, watercolor, of a small boat, silhouetted. Dream’s silhouette is on the right, along with a small bird perched on the end of the boat. Lucifer is sitting, lounging on the left side of the boat. Lucifer says, “The situation isn’t likely to call for either. Your predecessor preferred a corkscrew to a stiletto. What’s your position?” End description.]

How did they end up on a boat in the middle of nowhere? Lucifer looks supremely comfortable, lounging, completely trusting that Dream offers him no harm. They’re standing, very awkwardly, on opposite sides of the boat.

Lucifer is making a metaphor here, regarding how Morpheus was not very to-the-point. He knew how Morpheus worked, how he thought. He’s asking in an almost affronting way: “What’s your position?” that could be interpreted as curious or as a thinly veiled hostility.

[Image description: A watercolor of Dream’s profile, somewhat silhouetted. He has white hair. He says, ‘By all means let us be direct. Someone has used human dreamers to stage an assault on you. I assure you, this someone has attracted my attention, too. The matter will be dealt with.” End description.] 

Dream is taking this matter very seriously. It just seems that Morpheus may not have put as much attention into random attacks, but Dream is very involved. In the AU, this is kind of because Dream is keeping an eye out for Lucifer.

This conversation just hints, to me, of much more backstory between them.

They’ve been trying to bargain, offering favors or gifts to one another – something they don’t really have a good reason to do in the comics, except maybe to secure an alliance, but that feels…?? Well, considering the rest of the conversation…

[Image description: two panels, watercolor. The left is Lucifer’s face, and he says, “Actually I intend to deal with it myself. It would be unfortunate if our investigations hampered each other.” The right panel is of Dream, with a hand on his waist, looking down. He says, “I am interpreting that statement as a threat. Very well. This touches profoundly on my interests, but you are the injured party. Your rights are paramount.” End description.]

Lucifer is certainly difficult to make an alliance with. (Tangent, but I love this issue’s art style.) Dream still seems surprised – “Very well.” He is respecting Lucifer’s somewhat “bugger off” statement.

[Image description: A watercolor landscape shot of Lucifer on the left, with black wings spread, and Dream on the right, turned away from both the camera and Lucifer. Dream is saying, “I will conduct my own inquiries, along avenues that will not intersect with your own. Whatever I discover I will pass on to you. Via an intermediary, of course.” Lucifer replies, “As you like. But somewhere discreet. No white ravens.” He is referencing the bird also present but off-panel. End description.]

At this point, Dream turns mostly away from him. In my eyes, I see this as hurt/deflecting, supported by the fact that he says he will pass information via an intermediary – unnecessary, it feels, considering they’ve been talking, they’ve had multiple conversations before...it’s very sudden. Feels like it was based off of what Lucifer said. Which was a threat, but still, Dream knows how to not cross boundaries and get himself killed from a threat.

Lucifer doesn’t seem to have a strong opinion on this, or rather, he says, “As you like.” Letting Dream do whatever.

I don’t really have much to say on that part. It’s just a really fascinating conversation.

The Sandman (1989) Issue 72:

[Image description: Mazikeen and Lucifer sitting on what looks like a bench or stone beside one another. Mazikeen is to the left. She has an arm around Lucifer’s shoulders. Lucifer has his hands steepled in front of his face and his expression is unreadable, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. Mazikeen is almost leaning on him. She is wearing a red dress with no sleeves. Lucifer is wearing a blue suit. Both have curled hair, and Mazikeen is not wearing a mask. Overlaid, there is text from Matthew the raven, talking about Morpheus’s death. Matthew says, “I mean, Despair may be the thing that comes after hope, but there’s still hope. Right? When there’s no hope you might as well be dead. What’s in my heart?” End description.]

I find this significant in the AU because, firstly, it’s a point where Mazikeen shows affection to Lucifer. She has her arm around him. It feels...comforting, to me. Secondly, it’s the one panel of Lucifer I can find in the Wake -- and it’s when Matthew is talking about how he cares about Dream, and he’s figuring out his relationship with this new Dream.

Overall, Lucifer clearly respects Dream as just...another individual. He attends his funeral. He speaks with him multiple times.

In our AU, he and Dream are happily married, and their relationship post-Morpheus is settled, loving, happy. Because I love happy endings!!!!!!!!!!!!

I hope you enjoyed reading!! Feel free to shoot me a question about my thoughts on this AU. Because I have a LOT.

[ghoulboyboos]

Could you do some pinning Shane in his point of view please? (P.s love your work!)

Okay nonny, I’m gonna assume you meant “pining” Shane because that’s my jam. If you for some reason asked for Shane pinning down Ryan, please let me know! (Also Sara is Shane’s BFF here.)

Shanesits back in his chair and sighs, rubbing at his eyes. He has beenediting Ruining History for over three hours now and his eyes arestarting to feel like boiled eggs. Something about it drains him andShane technically knows what it is, but he doesn’t like to thinkabout it.

It’sRyan.

Heskips through the different camera shots and stops at a shot of Ryanlaughing. His face is lit up with that brilliant smile and Shaneremembers exactly when it was. He is editing the Alesia episode andRyan is smiling at the camera because Shane put a sports referencein. Just for him. Ryan picked up on it and so did Sara. Sara whoimmediately “awww”-ed because she knows of Shane’s crush. Shanecould smack himself with his own keyboard because it’s too obviouswhat he is doing. Instead, he looks up. Ryan is smiling right at thecamera as he mentions how sweet Shane is being and Shane stares inthose deep, brown eyes and allows himself to imagine that Ryan couldlook at him just like that. Surprised and happy and kind. Shanesighs.

Part ofhim wants to reach out and touch the screen, imagine being able totouch Ryan’s face for real. But that would be a little too cliché,so he doesn’t. Instead, he saves his work and closes the program.He’s already too blunt sometimes. He remembers grabbing at Ryanwhen they were at Knott’s Berry Farm and holding onto his shoulder.He remembers every time Ryan gives him a hug, which sadly isn’tvery often and how hard it is to let him go. Shane remembers that onenight where they hung out at the Tiki Bar and had a couple of drinks,laughing about something he doesn’t remember.

Ryanhad dropped against his shoulder because he couldn’t sit uprightwith how hard he was laughing and Shane had looked down, fully awarethat his cheeks were flushed and Ryan had looked up at him andgrinned. With the alcohol numbing his inhibitions, Shane had reachedout and cupped Ryan’s chin to tilt up his face. He barely remembersRyan’s reaction, except for those deep brown eyes widening. Shanehad barely leaned in when somewhere across the bar, a tray of glasseshad fallen and smashed on the ground and both of them had shot upfrom where they sat and checked in to see if anyone was hurt. Ryannever brought it up again and Shane is grateful. Sure, the memorymakes him feel warm and excited, but the idea of scaring Ryan off andmaking him uncomfortable is too much to bear. He is glad that Ryanapparently decided to ignore it. Or maybe he had been too drunk andjust forgotten about it.

Shanestares at his dark screen and sighs.

He hasbecome so dependent on Ryan. The man is his best friend and Shanewill always hit him up when there is something social going on. Shaneis not the most outgoing or social person ever, he prefers outingswith one or two friends. Going to the movies with Ryan means beingclose to him and indulging in the fantasy that somehow, they could bemore. But he usually drags Sara along so there is someone to keep aneye on him and make sure he doesn’t mess up.

Saraalways wanted him to tell Ryan the truth and Shane agrees. Ryandeserves the truth. But Shane is just so damn afraid.

Onenight he is lying in bed, listening to the radio and “Please Don’tLeave Me” by P!nk comes on and without any warning, he startscrying. He has no idea why the hell the song even has an impact onhim, but he guesses it’s the title alone that scares the fuck outof him. Shane grabs a pillow and pulls it close, crying into it likehe is a teenager with a crush and he just begs and hopes and prays towhoever or whatever is listening, that one day Ryan might entertainthe idea of loving him back.

A bunchof their friends are getting married and announce that they are goingto have kids and Shane would be a bad best friend if he didn’tnotice Ryan’s soft, sad expressions whenever something like thatwas announced. Ryan was everyone’s biggest supporter, the type togive you a way-too-expensive wedding gift or the one who is the firstto notice that someone is pregnant.

Shaneknows why. Above all, Ryan wants a family and Shane hopes dearly thathe will have that some day. Despite his infatuation, he wants Ryan tobe happy his way. So insteadof focusing on his crush, he sometimes dreams about Ryan finding “theone”, a beautiful and kind woman that matches his personality andmakes him happy. Someone to raise kids with, someone to grow oldwith. Shane’s heart breaks at the thought but at least the image ofRyan hugging his kids and smiling soothes the pain. Maybe, one day,after everything has died down a little, Shane would be able to tellhim.

-

Lifenever goes the way he planned.

Theyare out one night. Sara is nursing a cold so she told them shewouldn’t be able to come last minute and there is nobody to keepShane in line when they’re watching a movie. He is gripping thearmrests of his seat tightly, as if they are watching a horror movie,because he doesn’t trust himself that he won’t reach out to Ryanand breach a barrier he’s not allowed to break down.

Atone point, Ryan puts his arm on the space between them and his handlands on Shane’s and Shane gasps and pulls back.

“Sorry.”He whispers. “Didn’t mean to hog it all.”

Inthe flickering of the film projector he can see Ryan’s white teethand his friend is grinning.

“Noworries, man. It’s all good.”

Shaneswallows. If Ryan only knew. Thing were not good at all.

It’sRyan’s idea to go for karaoke afterwards and Shane loves karaoke,but he is also terrified.

Theyhave a lot of fun drinking and singing songs. It always takes them abit to get buzzed enough to feel comfortable to sing, but at somepoint they usually get too drunk to keep singing.

Agirl stumbles on the stage and the familiar “dadadada dadadada”comes on and Shane swallows. She doesn’t quite have P!nk’s lungs,but she doesn’t sound bad. Ryan next to him moves his head slightlyin the beat, but when the singer croons “Please, don’t leaveme...” Shane feels tears well up behind his eyes. He drops his headand chokes on a sob and when Ryan puts a hand on his shoulder, hebreaks down into sobs.

Hedoesn’t remember much of the night, there are only quick and shortimpressions. Ryan’s worried face, the seat of an Uber car, hisfront door, his bed.

Shanewakes up to a series of text messages from Ryan explaining that hehad made sure Shane got home safe and that he hopes he’s fine and areminder that they are best friends and that Shane can come to himwith anything.

Shaneswallows hard and types a single message back.

“Ican’t tell you this one. You would hate me.”

Themessage is read almost immediately afterwards, but he doesn’t get aresponse. There is not even a notification that Ryan is typing, soShane drops his phone in his bed and forces himself out of hisbedroom to take a shower. He stands in the middle of his kitchen,chewing on cereal and contemplating his life when the doorbell rings.

It’sRyan.

Shane’sheart beats hard enough to make him feel nauseous as he counts theseconds Ryan will need to call the elevator and ride it up. There isa knock on his door and Shane takes a deep breath before he opens it.

Ryanlooks amazing for someone who had been out drinking until three inthe morning. He seizes Shane up and looks at him like he isn’t surewhat to say.

“CanI come in?” He finally says.

Shanesteps to the side and lets him.

Theysit on Shane’s couch, each of them nursing a coffee. Finally, Ryanis talking.

“Listen…Shane. I know I’m not good at relationships myself, but if you needany advice or support… or even an open ear… You know I’m herefor you, right?”

Shanecloses his eyes. He wants to laugh and cry at the same time, but morethan everything he wants to hug Ryan.

“Iknow.”

“And…I mean, you’re entitled to your opinion but I have to say it kindahurt to hear that you think I would hate you for you being in lovewith someone. I mean, hey, even if I didn’t like them, if they makeyou happy? That’s a great reason for me to support you.”

Shanepresses a hand to his mouth and tries to keep his breathing even.

“Shane.You can tell me anything. I really mean it.”

Shanetakes a deep breath and steels himself.

“Iwas afraid for multiple reasons…. It’s not because of you, notjust. In general. You see...”

Hesighs and places his mug on the table, leaning back to stare at hisempty hands.

“It’sa guy.”

Heglances up and sees Ryan’s eyes transfixed on him as he puts hiscup away as well.

“Okay?Is that… Shane, I would never judge you for that. I really- I meanit sounds stupid saying that but I have no problem with people whoaren’t straight.”

“Iknow.” Shane sighs. “The thing is, you know him, very well.”

“Okay?”Shane can see that Ryan is mentally going through a list of theirmale friends. “So, why is it a problem? Is he married?”

Shaneswallows. “No.”

“Inany sort of relationship?”

Shaneshakes his head.

“So…are you afraid that he’s straight?”

Shanethinks for a moment.

“That’snot it… He wants a family. He wants children. Even if he were to…indulge me… I’m scared of taking that life away from him.”

Shaneexpects Ryan to nod in understanding, instead his friend scoffs.

“Thatdoesn’t have to mean anything! There are many ways to have childrenand a family when you’re a same sex couple or when you can’t haveyour own kids.” He glances over at Shane. “Don’t let that…you never know! If he makes you happy, you probably make him happytoo! I know you make me happy.”

Hesmiles up at Shane and Shane feels his breath stop.

“Youdon’t mean that.” He says, trying to fight the pain in histhroat. “You mean it differently...”

Ryanblinks. Then he blinks again. Then, his eyes widen.

“Oh…Shane...”

“Please.”Shane wrenches his eyes shut. “I’m sorry. I… I won’t make youuncomfortable, I promise, I just want to be your friend, okay? Pleasedon’t-”

Hecan’t say it, but in his head he is shouting “Please, pleasedon’t leave me. Please, Ryan, any way you want me to be yourfriend, I will be that-”

Ryancups Shane’s face in his hands and smiles up at him.

“Isthat it? Is that what was on your mind the last couple of weeks…months?”

Shanewrenches his eyes shut and nods.

“OhShane…”

“I’msorry...”

“No,Shane. I’m sorry. You’ve gone through so much pain… do you…do you hate me now?”

Shanelaughs. It’s dry and painful. He finally opens his eyes to look atRyan.

“Icould never hate you. I was so afraid you would leave.”

“OhShane...”

Ryanshakes his head and then he pulls his legs up on the couch and pushesup on his knees. His hands still cradle Shane’s face and then hepulls the stunned man into a soft kiss.

“Whydidn’t you tell me? I saw you back off and I thought you didn’twant this… I thought…”

Ryanshakes his head and Shane can only stare at him, stunned.

“Oh.”He finally says. “You’re not leaving?”

Ryanchuckles and kisses his cheek.

“I’mnot going anywhere.”

Shaneslowly brings his arms up to wrap them around Ryan’s form. He’ssolid and real and not a dream.

-

Theygo on their first date the following evening. Shane can hold Ryan’shand while they are watching the movie and when Ryan drops him off athis apartment, Ryan pulls Shane down and gives him a soft kiss on themouth.

Shanemelts into Ryan and when he falls asleep later, he dreams of hangingwith Ryan in their flat and he can take his hand without problem andthere is the vague memory of planning a family and everything isokay.

[pepperstrawberry]

Pepper Rambles about her fears

... I live a generally blessed life. could it be better? Yes. By a lot. But compared to a lot of other folks, I’m relatively safe and healthy(ish).

But politics, especially this last week, has me scared and stressed. And if I’m scared and stressed, I can only imagine what those that aren’t in my position might be feeling.

Ramble thoughts below the cut. Please, if you are sensitive to the heavier issues and thoughts that a lot of what has been happening the last two years, and especially the last couple of weeks lead to logically, do not click. I’ll try to reblog something cute and nice in just a bit.

Please, take care of yourself. The times coming up are going to be rough and if you need a break from the heavy, take it. For the love of all things good, take care of yourself.

To all those that might want to critique this: this is my thoughts and feelings at the moment. I’m feeling a bit raw right now and just need to vent. Understand, I’m not here to interact.

Also, if you are alt-right, actual nazi, or anything close to those things: first, why are you following me? and second, I will block with impunity and I will -not- answer nonny asks that are obvious leadings or dog whistles. so just fuck off, k?

(no, i will not close anon, because there are some good folk that need a hug but want to stay anon. and i’m here for that.)

I’m stuck between reblogging even more political stuff directly on here because it’s so important and keeping every drop of political fear and worry on @pepperolitics to keep things upbeet and positive here...

It’s still going to go slowly, but things are heading right into a very dark place in the near future. And this time, we have a way to see it coming and record it in far greater detail and more exacting timeline then back in the 30s-40s....

But in many ways, despite how amazing our information is easily distributed, and how aware we are (even as there are those that keep the blinders on), it feels like there isn’t anything we can do to stop this. There are some ideas... but they are drastic and scary in their own right.

You know... you read about it in history books. You dream about ‘being part of history’ on some level. Hell, most of our games and movies dip us right into it... but this? I think school and movies failed us.

Sure escapism is delightful. Things like the Wolfenstine games aren’t a bad thing. It’s only bad when that is really the biggest and main relationship we have with those sorts of events. Even in school, unless you go out of your way, they don’t teach as much about the two world wars as they probably should be.

It’s funny how much focus they give to something like the Treaty of Versailles, and that was important; but there were so many, more impactful factors at play in those times. It’s funny how we have this picture of Hitler like some kind of monster that rose up and took control... when in reality, he eased in, got elected, and then chipped away at everything. And even then, we don’t even understand that he was the tipping point, but nazis exsisted before he did. The problems that he took advantage of were already problems.

And here we are, American, a lot standing history of racism, classism, and starting wars for the worst reasons... I would say that our potential might be as good if not better then Germany, but so too is our complicity to be the worst.

And we are watching, in real time, as we are living things that feel a bit too much like Germany in the early 30s for comfort.

I’m scared. I may be white, but I’m bi and trans. While I might not outwardly look it (yet), I have made that aspect of me clear in some form or another in almost every aspect of my life at this point.

I’m scared because of what the ultimate end of the current line of things political might mean for someone like me. Consider, the yellow star of david wasn’t the only patch warn back then.

And even if the worst ending doesn’t come to pass, things that those that came before me and my contemporaries fought for that would allow me to be myself more openly are being steadily torn down again.

I live in a nice part of California. Expensive, but generally nice. For the most part, most folk I have come in contact with are generally supportive of folks like me... But even here, in bathrooms there is nazi graffiti and the rumblings of darker things. And it’s become more obvious as I educate myself on more about what is going on and things to watch out for.

And if this town I live in, just north of San Francisco, has those signs already growing bolder and more numerous, I am afraid of the places where they are far far more open and afraid for my fellow lgbt friends, as well as poc and others that live in those places.

I have no end point to this ramble... just... I had to vent some of my fears.

Maybe something will happen that will set us on a good path. And in the end, I do believe the better hearts will win, just as before... But just as before, I fear it will get darker before the dawn.

I just wish Dawn was here already...

[eternalsterek-broughttolife]

Proposal, Or Something Like That

Thanks for the anonymous reminder, whoever you are ko-fi nonnie. I totally got swept up in my work and life and getting back into the swing of writing (and hopefully finishing my fic) that I kind of forgot about my wonderful ko-fi donators. You guys really helped me out sooooo much and I’m forever grateful.

This goes out to @ladydrace  for your 900-word donation that I extended to  1292, considering I took so long to get to this. It may not be as fluffy as you expected (I tried, I did, but I’m a angst writer haha), but I hope you enjoy it. Thanks so much, again, dear.

The first time Stiles says it, Derek nearly chokes on a spoonful of ice cream. Which would be a shitty way to die, especially all they’d had to face in the last few years. Especially as the big bad of the week had slowly evolved into the big bad of the month, and the last few months had been completely quiet.

Derek should’ve known to be prepared at any moment. Except, how could anyone be prepared for this?

“God, why aren’t we married yet?” Stiles groans out after taking a giant bite of his ice cream. A little of it spills down Stiles’ arm and he chases it with his tongue, and Derek nearly chokes on his.

He realizes he’s staring at Stiles, his spoon still stuck in his mouth. He quickly rectifies the situation, removing said spoon and giving Stiles one of his best eye rolls.

“Seriously,” Stiles continues, pretty much shoveling the ice cream into his mouth at this point. “If I knew you could cook like this, I would’ve proposed ages ago.”

“It’s not cooking, Stiles,” Derek says. Because that is the easiest thing to focus on. Instead of the way Stiles is moaning around each spoonful, a little dribbling out of his mouth which should not be doing things to Derek.

“You know what I mean.”

He finally looks up, his bowl licked completely clean. And Derek can see the moment his senses come back to him as he blushes and gently places the bowl on the counter in front of him like he hadn’t just had his face shoved in there. He glances mournfully at the hand crank ice cream machine Derek had just purchased.

Derek sighs, pushing away from the counter to pick up Stiles’ bowl and refill it with the remainder of the ice cream. Apparently it was a worthwhile purchase.

“Seriously, marry me?”

****

The second time it happens, Derek is no more prepared for the words, or the images they bring to mind. Images he could never allow himself to dream of because it’s too painful to know it will never happen.

Derek had just been settling into bed with a book he was keen to finish tonight when his phone went off, a ringtone he’d never heard before but had no doubt Stiles had somehow hacked his phone just to add a ridiculous tone for himself. And a quick glance to the screen only proves his point.

With a sigh, Derek leans over and picks up the phone, half tempted to just send him to voicemail. Instead, he answers.

“What do you want, Stiles?” he says in a voice he hopes sounds firm and put out.

“Heeeeeeeeeeeey, Derek,” Stiles singsongs from the other end of the line, like he is just as surprised Derek answered the phone.

Derek sighs again, already pulling back the bedding and grabbing his jeans. “Where are you?”

“Thas not how yersposed to answer the phooooone,” Stiles slurs out, ending with a giggle like he were sharing a joke with himself.

Derek can hear a pounding bassline over the other end of the line and is already running through all the possible bars Stiles could’ve snuck into. He had two more years. Why couldn’t he just be reasonable and just wait.

“I’m coming to pick you up,” Derek says, already halfway down his spiral staircase. “Tell me where you are.”

“Oooooh. My hero.”

**

It’s easy to pick Stiles out over the crowd as he is currently on top of the bar, attempting to dance against one of the pillars. Two of the bartenders are attempting to get him down while another stands back and laughs like this is a regular occurrence, which all Derek knows, it could be.

Before Derek can even cross the room and somehow get Stiles down from his makeshift strip show, Stiles notices him.

“Derek!!!” He shouts, taking one step off the bar and before anyone can do anything, he lands flat on his face.

Somehow, Derek manages to get Stiles into the passenger seat of his car and before he rounds the car to his own seat, he takes Stiles’ hand in his and drains a bit of the pain that Stiles might not feel at the moment, but will most definitely feel in the morning. He’s almost done when Stiles’ other hand lifts and brushes across Derek’s cheek, making him freeze on the spot.

“Will you marry me yet?” Stiles says, his voice oddly clear. He’s staring at Derek with absolute concentration, as if he could will Derek into saying yes.

Derek swallows, his throat having to work extra hard over the lump that seems to have suddenly formed. There’s something in his chest, attempting to crawl out, but he shuts it down. This isn’t...Stiles doesn’t mean anything by it. It’s just….Stiles being Stiles. Stiles being drunk, whatever.

Derek schools his expression before gently rearranging Stiles and placing the seatbelt around him.

“Let’s get you home,” he says before closing the door and rounding the car, too quick to notice the way Stiles’ face pinches in pain.

****

“What do I have to do to get you to say yes?”

Derek nearly brings the hammer down on his hand instead of the nail that was halfway through the fence board he was attempting to repair. He has only a moment to marvel at the fact that Stiles can sneak up on Derek without any of his senses picking up on him, before Stiles is yanking on his shoulder and spinning him around.

His eyebrows are furrowed together, his lips a thin line, and Derek can honestly say he hasn’t seen Stiles this pissed since...he can’t remember when.

“What are...” What was he even talking about? Say yes? To what?

Thankfully Derek doesn’t have to find his words as Stiles is already running over them. “I’ve asked you nicely. Twice now. But you have yet to answer. And maybe I haven’t been the but I haven’t been subtle.”

Derek blinks. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You’re out here fixing my dad’s fence without even being asked,” Stiles continues as if Derek hadn’t spoken. He’s waving his hands around in a way that makes Derek want to hold them down for everyone’s safety. “You made my absolute most favorite flavor of ice cream without me even asking. You drove twenty minutes out of your way to pick me up from a bar because I was too shitfaced to drive home. How the hell am I supposed to keep my emotions at bay with you doing everything in your power to test them?”

“I don’t…”

“Would you just marry me already?” Stiles says in a huff, full on glaring at Derek by now.

“Okay.”

Stiles looks about ready to go into another rant when the words finally process. He freezes. “O...okay?”

A small smile spreads across Derek’s face. Who knew he could ever actually make Stiles speechless.

“Yes, okay. I’ll marry you.” He takes advantage of Stiles’ stunned silence by pulling him in closer until they’re pressed together from thigh to chest. His smile grows as Stiles’ eyes widen and his breath catches. “But we might want to consider going on at least one date before we do.”

“You...you better not be playing around,” Stiles breathes out. He tries to make it sound teasing, but Derek can see the uncertainty in his eyes.

“I’m not if you’re not,” Derek says, leaning his down ever so slowly, giving Stiles time to pull away.

Stiles’ eyes drop to Derek’s mouth as his tongue unconsciously comes out to wet his lips. God, he’s wanted this for so long.

“It’s a date, then,” Stiles says on a breath, his eyes never leaving Derek’s lips.

[cassiopeiassky]

When Everything’s Made to be Broken (I Just Want You to Know Who I Am) Part 45

Random tidbit - this part contains some of the very first concepts that were written for this story.  Strap yourselves in, it’s an emotional roller coaster.  You’re welcome.

Plot:  When you inadvertently become a witness to a murder and are suddenly a target for death, it takes a specially skilled soldier and his team to keep you and your family safe.

This will eventually be a is a reader x Bucky fic. The reader, by the way, is a civilian. No super powers, no fighting skills, and by no means perfect.  

Word count: 3215

Warnings:

For the entire work:  Language (I have a potty mouth), violence, and angst.  This will probably get pretty dark later on, and there will be smut.  If that’s not your thing, you may want to avoid this story.

Additional warnings specific to this part: Mentions of violence, death and physical assault, disturbing descriptions, panic attack, anxiety    If I need to add anything else, PLEASE LET ME KNOW.  If you don’t want me to publish the ask, I won’t, or you can feel free to do it as a Nonnie.  I will not take offense to any trigger warning requests.   Your well-being is important to me and I do NOT want to trigger anyone.

***I do not own any of the lyrics/music in this story, so please don’t sue me for using them***

Tags moved to the end.

WEMtbB Masterlist

Previously on WEMtbB:

“I love you so much, I’m so sorry.  I’m so fucking sorry, but I had to do it.  I had to, I had to be the Winter Soldier,” he mumbles into your hair repeatedly as his left arm wraps around your back to hold you close while his right hand cradles the back of your head.  

“You came back to me,” you whisper against his neck, and you feel him stiffen before he gently pushes you back so he can meet your eyes.  He stays quiet as he caresses your cheek and smooths back your hair, the small, broken smile on his face at odds with the heavy sorrow and remorse in his eyes.

When he finally breaks the silence, his voice cracks as he utters your name.  It takes another long moment before he speaks again.  “I never left.”

It takes you a minute to comprehend what he said.  “..Wh….what?”

“I never left.”  He runs his hands through his hair and takes a shallow breath before continuing.  “The trigger words don’t work anymore.”  He squeezes his eyes shut.  “Wanda was thorough.  She found the backup triggers and disabled those, too.  I guess I didn’t think to tell you about them because they were never used on me.  Didn’t seem important.”

It feels like the bed has fallen from underneath you, almost like reality has shifted.  “Wait…but…but I saw…but…you hit me.”

Bucky moves as though he’s going to reach out to touch you, but stops himself.  “I know, Sweetheart, I know.  I was faking it.  The whole time, I was faking it.  When I did that…I did it.  I am so sorry.  I just…I couldn’t find another way.  We couldn’t find a way around that goddamn collar.  It was the only thing I could come up with to get me close enough to you to protect you, and to eventually get you out.”  The sincerity in his eyes twists at your heart; he looks so broken.

You don’t know what you’re feeling right now.  It’s too much, it’s just too goddamn much.  Have you finally lost it?  Is this even real?  You want it to be real, right?  But how. How?  How could someone go to such lengths and pay such a price?  

A price.  

Oh God.

“You killed Steve.” You say it quietly, and suddenly you can’t breathe.  “Oh, God, you killed Steve!”  The enormity of what’s been done overwhelms you and throws you into a full-blown panic attack.  How could he?  How?!

“Oh shit, no,” Bucky surges forward, softly cupping your face with his hands; the cool metal on your right cheek is soothing on your bruised skin but the temperature contrast shocks you enough to focus on his words.  “I need you to breathe, Sweetheart.  Breathe for me,” he croons before taking you through a grounding exercise; the same one that you’d used to help him.  “Give me five things you can see, Sweetheart, five things.”  

You hold onto his voice – and his forearms – like a lifeline.

“Um, you.  I see you.”  Focus on him right now and nothing else.  Breathe.

“Good, what else?” His voice is so soothing; soft and sure like it used to be when you were at the safehouse with him.  You pay close attention to the timbre of his voice, to the traces of the Brooklyn accent that shapes his words, and to the clarity and warmth in his eyes.  This is your Bucky, the man sitting in front of you. He’s here, finally.  The pressure eases somewhat.

You’re able to take deep, even breaths when the exercise is completed; you wouldn’t go as far as to say you’re good, but you’re definitely better.

“Okay?” he asks softly; it’s an inadequate word for the situation, but you know what he means.  

“Okay,” you confirm with a small nod.  

“Good.  I gotta tell you something, but it’s gonna sound crazy so I need you to hear me out, okay?”  At your slow, careful nod, Bucky licks his lips and brushes his thumbs lightly over your cheeks before speaking again.  “Steve’s alive.  He’s fine, he –“

Umm.  No.  Your brain isn’t having this.  “What? No.  Bucky, he’s not fine.”  You sit up straighter and pull out of Bucky’s gentle hold.  “They served his head, literally, on a fucking silver platter! He’s the opposite of fine!”  You can feel your chest constricting again as your body fights another wave of hysteria.

“No, Sweetheart, no!” His hands grip your upper arms, holding you still and grounding you into the moment so he can capture your attention.  “What you saw was basically a movie prop made with animal…parts.  Remnants from a slaughterhouse, I think.”  He continues quickly when your eyes grow wide, “It wasn’t really Steve.  He’s alive, pissed off but alive, in a cottage in the middle of the woods about 20 miles south of here with the rest of the team.”  Bucky pauses to watch your reaction carefully, and when you remain still he continues, “Before we left, Stark called in a few favors to some of the people he always mentions he knows, said he wanted to be prepared for anything.  I guess he’s good friends with the prop designer for some apocalyptic zombie horror show, so he called his buddy and asked him to design and create decomposable replicas of the entire team.  That’s why I was gone so long; we had to wait for it to get shipped here, and then to, uh, thaw.  It was…it’s a disgusting process.”  He pulls a face and you feel the tiniest of smiles form in response.  “It even fooled me when Stark opened the box - creepiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.  I’m so sorry to scare you like that, but it wasn’t really Steve, I promise.”

You sit back on your heels, dumbfounded and relieved.  And thoroughly grossed out.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers again as he reluctantly removes his hands from your arms.  You can only stare at him.  “Sweetheart, I swear, the only people I’ve killed since coming to Siberia are Krakken’s men.  That…that feels really fucking bizarre to say, but it’s true.  Those are the only deaths that weren’t staged.”

It’s almost dizzying how fast your brain is trying to work in order to process all of the information. It’s fucking surreal, and you have so many questions, and even though he’s sitting in front of you it still feels like it’s a dream and he’s going to disappear if you blink.

“So...your missions? Those families?”

“They’re fine.  Most of them are on vacation, actually.  The few that stayed in the country went to their vacation homes.”

What you’d been told and what you’re hearing now are violently colliding in your mind; one brought untold grief, but the other promises healing.  The echoing contradictions make it hard to keep up with what he’s saying, and you’re so scared that he isn’t really here, that you finally just fell off the cliff into a raging sea of insanity and are imagining him, whole, in front of you.  Despite this, you hear the spark of hope in your voice.  “How in…What?”

He nods.  “We got here the day after you did.  Stark’s been negotiating almost non-stop with the other nearby Pakhan since we arrived.  Turns out the Krakkens aren’t all that popular around here; apparently they don’t follow the rules and play nice, and they haven’t been upholding the code of honor that ties the Pahkan brotherhood together.  There’s so much betrayal and bad blood between most families and the Krakkens that when Stark offered to take care of the problem, and then added stock options and patents to the deal, they were all fairly eager to accept.”

The wave of relief that washes over you actually manages to clear your mind somewhat.  “Really?  No kids died?”

He shakes his head.  “No, Sweetheart, no kids died.  Those deaths were all staged.  And if I’m not mistaken, Stark sent all of the families with young kids to Disney theme parks.”

The intricacy of their plan is astounding, to say the least.  “Holy shit,” you mutter under your breath, as you finally, finally allow yourself to truly feel hopeful about getting the hell out of this pit.  “So you’ve all been here almost the entire time?  They were the ones taking out Krakken’s men?”

“Yes, we’ve been here almost as long as you have; Sweetheart, we’ve been working on getting you back since the second Anatoliy drove away with you.  And no, they weren’t taking out Krakken’s men – I didn’t want to risk them getting too close and getting caught, and losing the element of surprise. That was me.”

That’s…woah.  “That was you?  How?  You were with me at least one of those nights, right?  Or was it two?” You struggle to remember; anxiety certainly doesn’t do your memory any favors.

Bucky gazes at you with soft eyes.  “Sweetheart, it would take me until the end of forever to forget all the little details of you that I memorized, and although it feels that long, it’s only been a few weeks.  I know all your little tells - I know when I can kiss your shoulder and you’ll wake, and when I can shift your entire body to bring you closer to me without you so much as twitching a muscle - so I just waited until you were in a deep sleep.  You were so exhausted that I knew I wouldn’t wake you.”

“But…how?”  

Bucky shrugs.  “They wanted the Winter Soldier.  They got him.  What can I say, for better or worse I’m a damn good assassin.  And since Stark compromised their security system the day after we got here, it was easy to pick them off while they slept.”  Bucky’s expression darkens.  “Metzger’s reaping what his uncle sowed.  I’m not at all sorry about those men, and there’s gonna be more before this is over.”  

“Wait.”  You hold up a hand as another emotion starts bubbling up; anger.  “You’ve had control of the cameras?  You said when you came in that it was safe to talk, right?  That’s because their system is hacked?”  

He nods, seeming to brace himself for what’s coming.

Good.

“So we could’ve had this talk days ago.”  At his slight nod, you continue, “What the fuck, Bucky?!  You could have told me what was going on!  I didn’t have to believe that you killed kids, or that you fucking killed Steve!  Do you know what that did to me??  I was so fucking worried about you, and what would happen to your mind when you realized what you’d done!!”  Your voice grows thick as tears threaten to fall.  “God, I thought I fucking lost you!”  

“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t tell you; it was too big a risk.”  You open your mouth to disagree when he speaks again, “They have three separate psychologists monitoring you.  Three. It’s part of his sick game; they watch you and basically tell him how far he can go – how much you can handle – before you break.  It’s how he knew to have tranquilizers ready for tonight; that wasn’t a coincidence, or even for worst case scenario.  He knew how you’d react – his doctors told him. If I’d told you everything earlier, they would have known your distress wasn’t genuine.  They would have known if you faked the reaction to the head.  They would have known, and it would have put your safety at risk.  I wanted to tell you - and I almost did, more than once - but Sweetheart, even when you’re guarded and not open about sharing how you feel, you’re still terrible at hiding your emotions.  It’s not a bad thing – it’s actually just one of the countless reasons why I fell for you so fast – but in this situation it could have gotten you killed.  I couldn’t take the risk.”

Well…goddamn it, he has a point there.  Shit.

He could read you like an open book, whether or not you thought your cover was closed.  From the very beginning, Bucky saw through your “I’m fine” and moments of uneasy quiet every goddamn time, even if he didn’t call you out on it.  Hell, trying to hide your emotions was something you’d done for years with Christopher, but even after all that practice, even Christopher knew when something was up; he just didn’t give a shit unless your mood bothered him.  You feel your anger begin to deflate. Bucky’s right – you would have blown it.

He looks over to you before looking down at his hands.  “God, I promise, I didn’t want to hurt you, or terrify you, or leave you alone.  Can I explain my reasoning?  Or do you just want to hear the plan to get you out?”

You look down and stare at the bedspread bunched between you and him while you attempt to gather your thoughts.  You know without a doubt that he loves you more than he loves himself, and you know he would never want to hurt you, mentally, physically, or emotionally.  He had to have had a damn good reason to do what he did - it wasn’t exactly like any of this could have been easy for him - and suddenly some of the pieces start to fall together.

You’d had no broken bones, just some bruising and a few cuts from when he was ordered to attack you. Sure, you were sore, but not ‘holy shit I was attacked by the Winter Soldier’ kind of sore, but more of an ‘I’ve been training with Bucky’ kind of sore.  Well, maybe a little worse than that, but definitely not as bad as having your ass handed to you a trained, cybernetically enhanced assassin.  You weren’t taking the hits extraordinarily well – he’d been pulling his punches. So much so, now that you think about it, you wonder how no one noticed. Thinking back on it, you realize that every time he ‘attacked’ you, he kept himself between you and the others, effectively blocking their view so they couldn’t see everything.  You also wonder how it hadn’t been blatantly obvious to you, especially with the split second he’d hold his hand before striking you – that was deliberate, to let you know how to absorb the hit.  And then he made you pass out, to end it all as quickly as possible while doing minimal damage.

He hit you, yes, because if he didn’t, someone else would have.  And it would have been far, far worse.  It would have been Grigory.  Or Anatoliy. Or both.  Maybe even all of the Hounds, if Bucky had refused.

And he willingly kept you in the dark; he let you think he’d killed Steve, for fuck’s sake.  But he’s right – you wouldn’t have been able to fake it – you probably would’ve accidentally compromised the team and gotten everyone killed.

Fuck.  It’s too much to take in, but you can’t fall apart; you don’t have that luxury.  You need to take what you know – that Bucky and the others have been working non-stop to get you back and that they’re doing what they need to do in order to accomplish this – and you need to fix your mind on that.  If you get back to Artie and Jimmy, and back to Bucky, the end justifies the means.  It’s easier to understand if you look at it from that point of view.

Fuck, you’re going to need a shit-ton of therapy after this.  Still, for the moment, you know what’s real.

Looking back up at Bucky, you take a moment to drink him in; he must have taken your lack of a reply to his questions as a silent demand to be left alone.  Studying the dejected curve of his shoulders and downturned head, you say the only thing you can think to say; the only thing that really matters at this point.  “Bucky, I trust you.”  It’s the truth.  You don’t have to like his methods, but at the end of the day, you trust him; there really weren’t any other options.

He looks to you, surprised.

“I mean, I’m not thrilled about it…we’ll, uh, we’ll have to talk about some more it later, I think, but the alternative was much worse.”

Bucky stares at you with the teeniest, tiniest bit of hope in his eyes, but says nothing.

“You didn’t have a choice. Well, technically you did, but I know what that choice was �� Bucky, those men weren’t going to pull their punches if they beat me, and they sure as hell weren’t going to be gentle if they raped me.  I don’t have to like it, but you being the Winter Soldier me kept me much safer in the long run.”  

He flinches at your words, but nods.  “I’m so incredibly sorry.  Please know that it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”  He looks miserable yet resolute when he speaks again, “I’d do it all over again, though, to keep Krakken’s men off you.  Even if I end up losing you – at least you’ll be alive. That’ll be enough for me.”

More pieces click together. “This is why you kept asking me to forgive you when Nicolai was saying the trigger words…isn’t it…”

Bucky nods.  “I don’t expect you to-“

“Buck, don’t,” you’re quick to interrupt him with a gentle hand on his forearm.  “Just don’t.  Don’t push me away to punish yourself, and don’t act like this is the end.  Neither of us deserves that.  Look, we’re going to have to deal with the fallout when we get home, but we’re going home.  Together.  Home. You and I.  Okay?  I love you, and I’m not giving you up just because some motherfucking cockjockey and his evil twatsickle of a brother decided to involve us in their fucked-up plan to take over the world.   You’re doing the best you can with what you have – this isn’t your fault, okay?”

“…But…”

“But nothing, goddamn it. But nothing!  They gave you impossible choices, Buck.  I don’t blame you for choosing the way you did.  Hey,” you pause and gently cradle your hands to his face to lift his head when he ducks to avoid your eyes.  “If you need to hear the words, I’ll say them.  I’m thankful you made the choice you did.  I’m thankful, because it means that I get to go home to you and our boys.  I forgive you, Bucky.  I’ll say it as many times as you need me to, but just know that I’m also going to tell you that there’s nothing to forgive because I don’t blame you.  This is on the Krakkens, not you.  You’ve fought them too hard for too long – don’t give them the consolation prize of tearing us apart.”

He quickly pulls you into a bone cracking embrace, holding you close and tight until you’re convinced that he actually listened to you.

“You’re comin’ home?  With me?” he asks in a rough whisper with his face buried in your neck.

“You’re goddamn right I am.” Like you’d ever answer any differently.

He pulls away to stare at you a moment before kissing you fiercely.  In the instant that his lips capture yours, everything wrong in the world ceases to exist and it’s just you and Bucky.  It’s in this moment, this very second, that you finally accept that you’re not imagining this; he’s real and he’s here.  And he’s taking you home.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles when he reluctantly breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead to yours.  “I know this isn’t the time or place, I just needed to feel you, to convince myself that I’m really here with you.”

You huff a quiet laugh in response as your fingers caress his scruff.  “Don’t be, I was just thinking the exact same thing."

You each hold the other, taking the opportunity to breathe each other in.  Like all good things, it can’t last nearly long enough.  

Bucky pulls away, but remains close enough to maintain bodily contact.  “I need to check in with Stark, Sweetheart.  We’re getting you out of here tonight.”

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[inevitably-johnlocked]

(1/2) Hey Steph! This is a long ask, so feel free to take your time answering as I love your insights! I have two Q's actually. 1. Was TAB supposed to be a standalone? I heard that they lied and something about how it was vital that they showed it before S4, but in hindsight (tinfoil hat aside), I don't see any connections between the two? 2. What were your initial thoughts on the "I Love you" trailer before S4? Ik many use this as proof for queerbaiting, but as a casual viewer then, I...

(2/2) thought y’ll were ridiculous for believing that it’s John when he was clearly in the background. Ofc after rewatching the series with an open mind, I became aware of my own prejudice and am all aboard the Johnlock train now. But I would imagine that as a shipper then, my hopes would be gone after seeing that, not fuel confidence like it did for some. Ik it’s done and we know who it’s to, but I’m interested in hearing the insights from a Johnlocker at that time. Thanks! :)

Hey Nonny! 

Never a problem! I’ll try to answer as best I can!!

1. Ahhh, TAB is an episode I studied IMMENSELY. I love it so much. Mofftiss, before TAB aired, kept insisting that it was a standalone episode and had nothing to do with the current timelines. They also kept saying that “the time is right for us to do this” which had us believing that they were insistent in getting it out before S4, which is why a lot of us DIDN’T believe that the episode was standalone. Many thought it was important because it was foreshadowing the events to come and let us know what Sherlock knows and feels for John…. essentially, instead of trying to solve the mystery of Moriarty, he ended up rediscovering his own self, and finally learning to love and accept John into his life as an equal, not as someone he needs to protect and keep safe. The episode was a huge character-building episode for Sherlock specifically, and I personally think it’s one of the most important episodes of the series. Because “it’s all a dream”, it forces the audience to use metaphorical interpretations of Sherlock’s character and of the people around him, showing us what he knows and how to teach us to see below the surface and read the subtext.

Many people think that it is a “key” to understanding what the hell is going on in S4, and reveals to us that if something seems wrong in the Sherlock universe, then something most likely is. Some people have suggested that the “alternatively” that we have been flipped to in the opening credits is when a secondary timeline had started. I personally don’t think so, since so much character development happened on Sherlock’s part in TAB and to exclude it negates all that development he had. Plus everyone was very much in character, so I digress. I do believe, though, that Unreliable Narrator started in T6T’s D-Notice scene.

Regardless, TAB helps us understand how to read the subtext at a metaphorical level. So when we refer to “John’s TAB” we mean that John is also now having hallucinations of his own, and everything in TFP is all metaphorical like it was for Sherlock – Sherlock’s is Victorian and dramatic like him, and John’s is full of pop culture and horror tropes like the things he likes. In that sense, it makes TAB connected to S4, since it helps us uncover the subtext below. 

Unfortunately, much of S4 is so inconsistent that I honestly have no idea how THAT season connects to the rest of the series, LOL. But if it is all a metaphorical season of a play-by-play of the events of the series so far, then I suppose it can work. It has been suggested that S4 is a "reverse" of the events that have happened so far, or a subtextual replay of the series. I can't find the post at the moment, but it's an interesting read.

2. Well, given what we thought was going to happen, and given the logical narrative next step in the chain, I as well initially thought it was finally Sherlock admitting his feelings, but upon sitting on it more, I then thought it was either blackmail and Sherlock was being forced to confess his feelings under duress, or it was a passcode.  When Mark revealed that Sherlock was “speaking to a mirror”, I then thought it was going to be Molly, but it won’t be good. And lo and behold, what we got was the forced ILY that we did get, which was exactly an entire scene mirroring John, especially if it is in John’s head (she’s even wearing the same sweater that she wore when she was “being John” in TEH). It was baiting, though, especially since BBC themselves kept using it to boost the watch numbers (”who does Sherlock love?!?!!!111?”) and while I am glad that it wasn’t directed at John, I am horrified that it instead destroyed the character arc of Molly, who, in S3, “grew up” and it really seemed like she was done with Sherlock and finally understood he was gay and in love with John. The only way I can deal with it is with John’s POV / TAB reading of the episode: it's how John has always viewed Molly, and this is his projecting his own fears of Sherlock’s “reciprocation of feelings” – as in he fears Sherlock will only say it because it’s what John wants to hear, and not mean it. It’s a very powerful scene at the subtextual level, but on the surface level, it’s very misogynistic (ie. woman being used only as a throw-away plot device and hopelessly in love with the male lead) and terribly drags Molly’s character through the mud. It makes me sad that many cannot see it as such.

As I’ve said numerous times, I’m 50 / 50 on S4. I cannot logically take it at face value simply because of how inconsistent and fucky it all is, and my brain just cannot understand how we went from TAB to S4 without either something happening in the interim, or there being a bigger plan in play, ie. TJLC. I still firmly believe Johnlock is endgame, but I also accept the very likely possibility that the series is over – I have to remain a bit skeptical since I am a creature of logic and because of the “finale” feel of TFP (ie. no cliffhangers) and the post-season interviews with the actors makes me think that it’s likely that it’s not really coming back. But I remain hopeful… I have too much fun doing what I do, and I thoroughly enjoy making people feel better about the series again, as best as I can.

PHEW! Sorry, I ramble a lot; seeing as you are a new Johnlocker I assume you’re also new to my blog and therefore have just discovered how long winded my responses can get when I am passionate about a topic! That all said, thank YOU for allowing yourself to at least give us the benefit of the doubt and understand where we were coming from – it’s all most Johnlockers and TJLCers ever ask for, to be honest. We aren’t trying to convert people, we just want people to understand how narrative structure and tools work, such as mirrors and subtext. I mean, I’m tickled pink that you are all aboard with us, and I am happy that you just watched the episodes through new goggles. Here’s a fun game, Nonny: Now that you have Gay Goggles™, rewatch all the episodes again, and then ESPECIALLY DIE at TSo3 (my Johnlock Enlightenment Episode®) – you’ll be kicking yourself once you realize how close to the surface it really all was and – if indeed S4 is the final season – you’ll understand WHY we call it all queerbaiting. It’s not even subtle in S3 especially, but yeah, it fucking HURTS to see how much they love each other and how hard Mofftiss just keep making them stay apart. It’s REALLY apparent in S4, like it looks like they’re doing everything possible to keep John and Sherlock apart because Ben and Martin can’t fucking stop making Goo Goo eyes at each other, LOL.

Anyway, TL;DR: 1) Surface level, no, it doesn’t really connect except as the "what happened on the tarmac" filler episode, but subtextually it is the key to the series as a whole. 2) Yes, it was baiting of all kinds, hetero and queerbaiting… sadly a lot of The Others didn’t see how fake that whole scene was and how much it dragged Molly, and I feel sad for them, genuinely, because what kind of standards for relationships do they have if they thought that scene was real and genuine? Sherlock clearly didn’t want to do it because it wasn’t true, and he cares for Molly very much as a friend and didn't want to hurt her.

I hope I answered your questions alright! Cheers Nonny!