#that think being called a twink is like. the worst thing that can happen to them like. bitch shit up and get over it

[autopsytableromance]

The way some trans guys get SOOO mad about ppl calling them twink is so so funny to me.

[petew21-blog]

Workout routine

My best friend from school, Emily, married last summer while still being at university with me. She is still young, but claimed that her boyfriend truly loves her. Bullshit if you ask me, he never respected here and treated here like a trophy wife since the beginning. Yeah I hated him. He was a homophobic asshole and acting like some fuckin' alpha male. Why Emily dated him I never understood

One day we were on their garden studying for an upcoming exam. I was nervous most of the time cause James was working outside fixing stuff and eyed me like a prey. Emily went to get us some snacks and drinks.

He came up to me and started some homophobic talk how I could choose this path of sin and so on. I couldn't look up at him. Cause he was very close to me, very shritless and VERY sexy. Way too much. If I looked up even for a second, I would immediately get hard.

"You gays are the worst thing about this generation. You can't even work, y'all do your artsy useless shit and nothing usefull"

"Can you just let me live and go on about your life? I don't want to listen to this."

"Well you're on my property so you'll listen to whatever I have to tell you"

A call from inside the house. Emilly called him

"You're lucky. If it weren't for her you'd be already on the ground biting dust"

What an idiot. I was raging. I think I'll just leave and go home. I can't calm myself down and I don't want to cause any drama with Emily. Even if I think her husband is horrible, I don't want ot loose her a s a friend"

Emily came out of the house, smiling. She brought the snacks and water. She looked at me "Sorry for... taking so long. I had to sort something that couldn't wait. Now drink up, you haven't drank for hours. I should have brought drinks sooner."

I took the glass and took a sip. But then I felt really nauseaous. My vision was blurry now and I felt like vomiting. All I could make out of Emily's face was that she was smiling.

Then my vision started getting clearer again. But it was strange, I wasn't outside anymore. I was in their kitchen, holding a glass. "How did I get here?" went through in my head. As I looked for the nearest surface to put down the glass I noticed that I was shirtless.

Wait, what?!? This isn't my body!!!

I let go off the glass destroying it. But nothing could have prepared me for being this ripped in the matter of seconds. This is something I always wished for, but never thought I would get. I was always the skinny twink trying to build more muscles, but couldn't. And now, I have massive muscles.

I found a mirror in the hall. No, this can't be happening. I am James. I can't be him. He is an asshole. A homophobic asshole.

But his body thought otherwise. His dick got hard. And it isn't small. Which might be cool to play with, but now I was still angry everytime I looked at the mirror.

"Enjoying yourself?" Emily asked as she entered the house

"What have you done, Ems?"

"I gave you a new body. The one you have been lusting for. And as a side effect I got myself an improvement for a boyfriend. I loved him before, but I was blind and deaf to all the things he said on your account and to all the things he commented about me. Never appreciated me. But you are the best man I ever knew. And I wanted to be with you even if I wasn't your type. But now, I think I might be" she said as she placed her hand on my new crotch.

I thought I wouldn't like this, cause I was gay for my entire life, but James's body is still straight. But in my mind I could even picture myself with a dude and not be disgusted

"Ems, I think you didn't turn me straight as you wished for. I think I'm bi, actually"

"Whatever is best for both of us. I got a cute gay friend who you might like and who would love to explore your body, with me. But I think there might be some emotions involved, you know. Cause of the previous ownership and so on." she said and laughed out loud.

I took her up and put her on the kitchen table. Embracing her and going for a kiss.

"Ems, you are the best friend I could have ever wanted. I love you and I will love you now as your husband"

We could hear a scream outside coming from the garden. We could only smile at each other as we knew what was coming

Two months later:

"Hey, my name is James and this is my colleague Robert. Robert is a small gay dude friend from my wife. We are going on a road trip to get to know each other better with the permission from my wife. So we would like a room"

"Oh, there's only double bed? That's absolutely fine with us, right Robert? Bro's will be bro's and NO HOMO. Hahaha"

A story request from Inbox: Could you do a swap with a Twink and his best friend’s bodybuilder husband?

[tokyo-debunker-idk]

Crushed | 03

Summary: He's tried to convince Leo that you're a cool person, to which the former just scoffs and accuses Sho of having a crush. Honestly, the reaction is obnoxious – people of the opposite sex are perfectly able to have platonic friendships. Just because Sho's taken to bringing an extra lunch for you on training days so you can eat together after, and he enjoys spending time with you, and you're pretty and smell good even after an hour of sparring, doesn't mean he has a crush.

Pairing: Haizono Sho x Reader x Kurosagi Leo

Genre: Humor, romantic comedy, slowish burn, no real plot, Leo bullying

18+, minors DNI

~~~~~

"Besides, what are a few nobodies compared to the shit you've been dealing with anyway? You can handle it."

You finally realize what's been bothering you since you confronted Leo at the Vagastrom dorms (outside of the usual annoyance of Leo's general existence).

His response, despite his condescending tone… had been worded suspiciously like a compliment. Which, since it's Leo, means it probably wasn't.

"YoU cAn hAndLe iT," you mutter quietly to yourself, imitating the TikTok asshole's haughty tone. "Fuck off."

It makes you even more annoyed about the stupid sympathy that flared up when Leo mentioned death threats. He doesn't deserve your consideration, but your empathetic ass doesn't care about logical little details like that.

Sure, you've seen horrible comments and exchanges online in fan wars, but it's always been as a spectator. Receiving such disturbing messages personally, ranging from unhinged fans who call you ugly (whatever) to those that wish vile things upon you (less whatever) to others that send inappropriate pictures you wish you could unsee (your eyes, your poor non-quite-virgin eyes)… it's affected you much more than you would have expected.

For you it's mostly a weird blip in your life, and you can just deactivate an account you rarely used in the first place. Since you're stuck at Darkwick, it's not like your social life in the "real" world is exactly popping off, anyway. Despite logically knowing that nothing will happen to you, that the vitriol is being spewed by complete strangers who don't know you at all, you still feel shaken at the reminder that regular humans can be even worse than many of the anomalies you've experienced.

Even the sparse comments about you being cute together (which are repulsive in their own way, for obvious reasons) feel weird and invasive, as if you're their friend. It's like they think they know you, and that their opinion matters enough for you to hear it.

Leo deals with all of that constantly? Sure, he basically signed up for it and is apparently completely fine, but it still just… doesn't feel right.

Yeah, you dislike him, but he's not exactly evil. He's a douche who cares more about himself than anyone else, which is not a rare trait in the world. He just also happens to have brains and guts, without the morals that would keep him from using those around him.

So, a shitty guy, but not the absolute worst. At least, not evil enough for the insane hostility you received firsthand.

Then again, he's gotten those types of messages and was more than willing to put you in the line of fire. So maybe he is a little evil.

Why did he even post you to his TikTok as his girlfriend, anyway? For all his apparent dismissiveness of your capabilities, the guy is definitely way too vain to choose any random passerby, even if he later reveals it to be a joke. In its own fucked up little way, it's almost a compliment that he seems to think you're objectively attractive enough to be a believable partner to his audience.

Not that you're flattered.

Well… a small, petty part of you kind of is, because while Leo acts like a steaming pile of garbage, he's a steaming pile of garbage with taste.

Huh, then maybe he did actually mean what he said about you being able to handle it?

Nah, that can't be right.

Whatever. You have more important things to worry about than a toxic, twink-shaped gremlin. Like your new assignment with the Jabberwock ghouls. That should be your current number-one priority. You should probably go over the investigation notes right now, actually.

SHOulders: Hey Y/N, u free?

You're a strong independent woman who can prioritize important, life-altering tasks over silly crushes. You are, you can resist–

You: Yeah! What's up?

~~~~~

"So? What do you think of the sign?"

"It's amazing! It's even more impressive than it was in the photo."

Sho grins at your compliments, though he tries not to show just how pleased he is about your heartfelt praise.

"Didn't I say flattery'll get you nowhere?"

He's lying, of course. Flattery from you is always welcome, because he can tell you mean it. It's also why he's asked you to look at his menu and signboard before officializing the food truck – you'll give him your honest thoughts. Leo would have opinions on things that are trending, but Sho doesn't really want to rely on gimmicks. For all his irritation with the restrictions at Darkwick (and having to deal with his annoying ass brother), this food truck is something he's actually excited about.

Sho doesn't tend to take most things seriously… he's naturally intelligent and athletic, so he's never really had to try hard to get by. Not wanting anything badly means he'll never be disappointed if something doesn't pan out. Besides, Leo's the type of best friend to make fun of any endeavor or interest he doesn't deem worthy.

But you're different.

You work so hard every day to make up for the qualities you believe you lack, from struggling through workouts to staying up late to catch up on the classwork you miss due to being sent on missions. Maybe once he would have scoffed at your efforts, but instead, it gives him the courage to try something new.

It's safe to show you how much the food truck actually means to him. You're the one who constantly raves about his food, whose encouragement and support has helped his tiny idea grow into an actual dream. He trusts you.

"Do you have a date?"

Huh? A date for what? Why do you want to know about his love life? Or is this your way of asking him to –

You hand back the menu you were looking at, and Sho realizes you mean for his food truck opening.

Right. Thank goodness, because you guys have a good friendship that does not need to be complicated by anything like that.

"By next week, I guess? So long as no one gets in my way."

"I'm really looking forward to it!"

Yeah, the sensation in his chest is most definitely relief, not disappointment.

~~~~~

"What are you doing here?"

"Hello to you too, Kurokawa," you reply drily as you put down your heavy bag, unsurprised by Leo's unwelcoming greeting. He's lounging on a couch in the common area, and you suppress an internal sigh.

It's not surprising to run into him at the Vagastrom dorm, but you had hoped he was out turning princes into frogs, forcing poor parents to exchange their firstborn for vegetables, or whatever it is he does for fun.

"It's Kurosagi."

You ignore his correction, because you know it pisses him off.

You sometimes wonder why Sho bothers with Leo when you've never seen Leo do anything nice for his so-called best friend, but it's not your place to judge. You're mature enough to understand that there's a history there you're not aware of, and that you've only known them for a very short period of time.

"Maybe I'm here to see my darling influencer boyfriend," you say sarcastically, giving him the fakest smile you can manage as you plop down next to him. You know he doesn't like you, so it's another easy way to annoy him (if at your own expense). "How could I go a day without seeing that pretty face?"

You're mature enough to understand. That doesn't mean you're mature enough to not hate it. If you can't avoid Leo, you're going to do your best to be as annoying as possible when you do have to interact with him.

"Ugh, don't sit so close," Leo grumbles, despite not making a single move to move away like the lazy little princess he is. He does smell nice though, probably some trendy cologne that he uses to cover up the stench of his rotten personality. "Have you even showered today?"

Wow. You know you smell nice because you did, in fact, shower today. Right before coming here, to be exact, because despite Sho's knowledge of your sweaty form after training sessions, you want his memories to be of you fresh and perfumed.

There is really no need for Leo to be so fucking rude all the fucking time. Especially when you've done nothing to deserve it but apparently have the audacity to exist in his presence. If anything, you've been downright charitable in never bringing up "the incident" at the Pit. Though if you're being honest, it's also something you don't want to remember, because the knowledge that you willingly ground up against his dick – even if it was out of spite – is too embarrassing to think about.

Sure, he's pretty, but you have your standards.

Why are you even thinking about this right now? Clearly you have been spending way too much time either studying, doing odd jobs for the ghouls, and daydreaming about Sho if you're even thinking of Leo in any sexual-adjacent light. You don't even really want to think about him at all.

You know that being ignored is one of the things that bothers him most of all (an attention-seeking diva, truly), so you grab a textbook out of your bag and begin to read.

~~~~~

Leo knows he's an asshole.

He's perfectly fine with it. Sometimes, it even sparks joy.

Such as now, when you're scowling at him in a way that makes him want to antagonize you even further. You're always so nice and friendly to everyone that it's satisfying to be the one to elicit a different reaction out of you. It's a matter of pride that he's the only one that can make you lose your temper.

Besides, it's not his fault you look so cute when you're pissed off.

Leo freezes when he realizes what just crossed his mind, but before he can figure out exactly where that ridiculous thought came from, you're pulling a textbook out of your bag.

… Are you seriously about to study while sitting so close to Leo he can smell your flowery shampoo?

"Can I help you, Kurohagi?"

His eyebrow twitches, and he realizes he's been staring at you. And that you fucked up his last name, again.

"You're getting very comfortable, aren't you?" he replies in a scornfully, wondering why exactly you're even visiting when Leo's the only one here.

Unless… you came to see him. Maybe you're just playing it off as if you weren't, to save face. Why else would you even sit so close to him, anyway?

"I'm just waiting for Sho to get back, he said he'd be here soon," you reply with a shrug that annoys Leo for reasons he can't explain. Your answer makes far more sense, and yet that just pisses him off even more. So he does what he does best.

"It's cute how you're being such a good little gofer for Sho," he says mildly, pretending not to care one way or the other. "He's always been good at getting people to do things for him."

You stiffen, and uncertainty flits across your face before you straighten your expression. Though you're obviously trying to hide it, the way you shift away from him reveals that he hit a nerve.

It was exactly what he was going for, but the usual satisfaction feels hollow, as if the words have left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. You don't snap back with your usual fire the way he expected. Instead you just look back at your book, and the sour feeling magnifies.

An oppressive silence blankets the two of you while unfamiliar pressure weighs down his chest, and Leo is almost relieved when the tell-tale sound of a rumbling engine signals Sho's arrival.

His friend's face brightens instantly when his eyes land on you, which irritates Leo in a way he can't explain. You smile back, though it's more subdued than usual.

"I brought the rest of the stuff from the diner," you call out, and the way Sho jogs to greet you seems to restore some of the sparkle in your eyes. It does not alleviate some of the heaviness Leo is feeling.

"Awesome, thanks," Sho replies with a grin. "You know you didn't have to, right?"

"Yeah, but I wanted to."

Barf. Are you guys fucking serious? It's nauseating, the way Sho is smiling at you like a lovesick puppy. Does he have no pride at all?

"Oh, Leo," Sho calls. Great, he's finally been noticed.

"What?" Leo replies a little petulantly, crossing his arms. Everything about this situation is pissing him off, and he doesn't even understand why.

"Stop pouting and help me out, I was able to pick up some liquor when I went on my grocery run."

"Ugh, fine," he grumbles, mollified by the promise of a night of drinking. It's sadly the closest they can get to clubbing when Darkwick watches their every move.

Leo stands to help grab some of Sho's bags and notices that you're hanging back with an uncertain look on your face. Are you stupid enough to actually take Leo's words to heart when it's obvious you have his best friend wrapped around your pretty little finger?

"Are you coming or not?" he asks testily, shoving a few bags in your direction. "We're not sharing if you don't help."

Your eyes widen at the implied invitation, and even Sho makes a sound of surprise.

"I… uh… yeah," you stammer, hurrying up from the couch to take the bag Leo is holding out. "Thanks?"

You still look and sound confused, but the smile you give him is genuine. It's the first time he's been on the receiving end of that particular expression of yours, and sunlight eases the uncomfortable feeling in his chest. It's similarly disconcerting, and Leo has no idea what to make of it.

"Whatever, just hurry up."

~~~~~

Prev | Masterlist | Next

[crazylittlejester]

Okayokay, so at the time this au takes place, it's been about 5 years since the War of Eras and he has been promoted to the rank of General (like Impa I think) and is like a cool uncle figure to the knights in training.

Like most characterisations of hw Link (I'll call him 'Captain' because he would hate being so directly associated with the War), my guy has a shit ton of trauma that he's working through. For now I'm going to talk about the physical injuries he's had. Basically, at the start yk how Volga beats up this kid? Yeah, that's left a lot worse scarring. Like, Zuko from atla level scarring on his face, and it extends down onto his chest and the entirety of his right arm. As a result, the areas are either numb or he can't stand the feeling of anything rubbing against it (basing it on my own burn scar but anyways). Oh, and he's also got a massive scar across his throat from a messy attempted assassination. He only survived because of a fairy. Impa gifted him the scarf because he didn't want anyone to see the hero as someone that could be killed or scratched (completely ignoring the burn scars but he's a Link, he doesn't hold the triforce of wisdom).

Another thing is that when people found out that the War started over Cia wanting the Linkussy (I'm sorry) many harassed him and blamed everything on him, like to the point where people only ever saw him on the battlefield or sprinting back to his tent. Eventually it devolved into people saying the war wasn't worth fighting because he wasn't even beautiful (they said this because of his scars). At one point some soldiers managed to drug him until he was basically comatose and they snuck out in the middle of the night to deliver him to Cia and hopefully end the war.

He refuses to talk about what happened there. When he was eventually rescued, both of his legs were broken and he had Cia's name engraved in his back. Since then, touch has been difficult for him to accept.

Even after all that, he refused to turn bitter and still helped his teammates, even if they hated him, because he figured that if he was the hero then he needed to act like it before he was left to rot for being useless, or in case they decided they didn't need a hero.

How does toon Link and young oot Link play into this? They fought alongside everyone else, and were unofficially adopted as younger brothers by Captain. They were the only ones other than Impa and Sheik/Zelda allowed in his tent. He only took off the Hero mask around them because he refuses to lose who he was to who people expect him to be.

When the War finally ended, Captain slept for a week and woke up in the royal infirmary. He's lived in the Castle under royal protection ever since, because during the war somehow his home was destroyed and his family killed by monsters. This was retaliation after he was rescued from Cia.

Needless to say, Zelda got his twink ass in therapy. It's helped a lot, and now he can actually appear in front of people and take care of himself. He's still got a way to go, but now he can actually see a future for himself. Now he still works in the Hyrulean Military, but I don't know much about military stuff and it doesn't seem that interesting so cannot provide many details. But he's good friends with both Impa and Zelda and hopes to be a good influence on new recruits.

When my au happens, he's still depressed but he's functioning, and he serves as a lighthouse of sorts for the other Links. A person to talk to, someone to inspire them to keep going. The person he wishes he had when he was at his worst. He still refuses touch, but he shows love in other ways. Only Mask and Sailor really knows how it is a sign of just how much better he's gotten since the War, and they will stab anyone who badmouths him.

Side note: he's the only one who can get Mask to actually speak in this au.

Also, he isn't perfect. On his worst days, he can't stand the idea of anyone perceiving him and will have a full blown panic attack if touched by anything or he sees any eyes on him. Sometimes he accidentally lashes out at the other Links when they do something that unintentionally triggers him, and he believes they may betray him.

Anyway, I can't think of much more, sorry for the ungodly amount of text !!

(sorry i didn’t answer sooner i wanted to make sure i had the time read the whole thing)

I don’t think any of us are capable of giving this man a good time we all give him the worst life ever. DAMN. THIS POOR GUY (i say as if i treat him any better)

OUGH. im glad he got therapy 🥺

[funkii-fox]

Hot take: proshippers that interact w discourse are not much better than antis that interact w discourse. Like, if you're REALLY dedicated to doing ur weird stuff without judgement, why are you so worried abt what antis do? Mind ya damn business

I used to engage in discourse for fun from time to time, but as an adult and more mature i have actual shit to do and i realize its all dumb af.

You can at least understand antis being into discourse bc they truly believe they're doing gods work and preventing bad stuff, but wtf are proship discourse pages doing? It's one thing to support other proshippers, but thats not what i see a lot of the time. It’s not interacting w ur own community for support or care, its interacting w ur own community to put down antis and pretend ur better. Especially bc are there "anti hate pages" be fr. Enjoy ur weird stuff in peace bruh life is short. Focus on urself. Getting into discourse and making everything about being proshipper really makes yourself a target for antis. Ur just feeding this hate train by being hateful to ALL antis, even tho a lot are normal and chill. A lot of them are kids (too young to be online) groomed into a borderline cult because they dont know any better. A lot of them are terrified to speak out incase they get hanged, drawn, and quartered by the community.

Maybe it’s just me, my “minding my own damn business” attitude, or bc i get like 3 notes per post max anyway, but i haven’t rlly encountered a lot of antis. Not on tumblr, and a few times on instagram. The worst thing to happen to me on here was someone put “erm what the scallop” in my asks (anonymously bc shes scared). I didnt shrivel up and die, i answered w something sarcastic like “oh no! Im gonna kill myself bc random anonymously doesn’t like me :(“ and i went abt my day. On instagram, ive gotten canceled probably a million times, but rarely do they come in my dms. They just kinda stalk my story and posts and freak out in their private circles.

Although, i remember a funny time when an anti told me to kill myself and calling me a pedo in a story + tagged me, with GRIFFITH (pretty white haired twink from berserk) as the background. I haven’t gotten into berserk but i do know that that guy is a rapist so ummm i think he would be on my side. Its goofy ngl

I think it’s a little bit of a persecution complex. Proshippers are mistreated and misrepresented, but at the same time some ppl go way too far is “protecting” proshippers.

[strawberryjamsara]

may we know which interpretation of a character from ur shows u do not agree with and find to be in slightly poor taste u reblogged that post 5 times about 👀

I reblogged that post way more than five times I thought….

And well it applies to a lot of characters… but for what I’m thinking about now it’s the entire cast of yttd

This game is literally about a death cult that’s been training people for a murder game against their knowledge their whole lives. You’d think the fandom would be able to shoulder more moral complexity than 7 year olds.

Qtaro is beloved nowadays for his stellar character arc, but before 3-1b and even now, his tag is uninhabitable. No matter how much he changed from his pretty indefensible actions in the first chapter, even a line in the second chapter main game that was pretty much just turning towards the camera and telling you he had changed, people were VICIOUS at the idea that he could show any moral complexity and growth. People were outraged over a man called Qtaro Burberberg who was a parody of Jojo characters, and making headcanons about him being homophobic (which is a whole other can of worms but I don’t have time for that today)

Then we have the opposite spectrum. Characters who are loved.

Kai Satou, literal ex assassin who drank poison as a child? Apparently he doesn’t know what swears are.

Nao Egokoro, who in one route of the game kills everyone? Like that happens. She kills everyone. Well she’s just a cutesy artist lesbian.

(Also Kai threatened Nao at knifepoint to attack an innocent person in canon but that never gets unpacked anywhere in the fandom)

Hell the uwufication has gotten so bad that Shin Tsukimi SHIN FUCKING TSUKIMI, the antagonist of the game for a good chunk of the run time is reduced down to being just a little guuuuuuy! Baby booooooy! The fact he spent so long tormenting a literal child is treated as a funny little quirk! And look, I’ll be the first person to advocate for Shin and Sara being a well written relationship and their eventual bond meaning a lot to me, but Shin has gotten so many passes for being a fan favorite and (dare I say it) being a twink.

And like. There’s also the weird limbo with Keiji. Oooooh Keiji. See, you can make a post pointing out Shins mistakes and everyone goes “He’s so funny <3” but if you make a very similar post about Keiji the literal day after those people will say “Ugh, thank you this is why I hate Keiji.”

So look. I love Keiji. I make fanart of Keiji. I obsessively write meta of Keiji. I blorbo tag Keiji. I am like the only person in the world who thinks that with the way Nankidai has written the story, killing off Keiji would be a bad move…

But here’s the thing.

Keiji is a flawed character. Like extremely flawed. He’s meant to be a direct foil to Shin, but rather than antagonizing our main character, he’s sitting in the chair next to her as her main assistant. He cares about her deeply, but in the beginning of the game, his only interest with her is using her as a figurehead for his own survival, and no matter how much he wants to protect her now, that initial approach is not without consequences. He has hurt people, and he uses that fact to hurt people more as his own self inflicted punishment. He has changed and grown over the narrative but he’s not someone you can put in an easy box of good or bad.

So people tend to go to one extreme or the other with him. Either he’s the best dad who does no wrong, or he is the worst character ever and the game would be so much better without him. It really sucks that Keiji and Sara, one of the most complex and interesting relationships in the game, and one that is out front and center so comically often, to the point that 3-1b revolves around it, is ignored to such a degree that the contract, the main point of that scene, the fact you were meant to be put in Sara’s shoes and feel her making that decision was missed by the fandom so they could whine about not getting to make the decision themselves! Reading comprehension zero! Literally where is the meta and fanfic?! Greenblings has tons of it! Do I have to do everything mys-

Also like, there’s also characters explicitly meant to be not sympathetic who do get sympathy. Like, idk how hard Nankidai has to look into the camera and tell you Midori is just like that for you to stop giving him backstories. People probably do that so it’s easier to ship him with Shin tbh. Stop that.

Okay one last thing, and I’ll stop. This fandom is weirdly focused on shipping. Like I love shipping don’t get me wrong, but yttd is like not about shipping. At all. There’s twenty different extremely fucked up and interesting found family dynamics in the game and people are worried about whose Alice gonna take to the jailhouse prom. Okay. Gothi out.

[stitchwraith-stingers]

8, 13, 20 🔥fop🔥

common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about - ppl who havent watched the og show on its own / enterity talking abt how coswans marriage fell apart BECAUSE of timmy's secret wish

now again i have no problem w people talking about this if its their own interpretation or au, ive said many times that on its own i think if you do it well you can make a good angst fic, however what i want people to understand is that that take came from someones analysis, and while i do have small problems w it (the 'apartnership shows them being bad for eachother' section in perticular) its just generally not a bad thing however w alot of these analysis' ppl listen to it and it goes through a game of telephone, its what happened to chloe like even before i remember if ppl mentioned her name some guy in his 40s would run to the comments to make 4 posts about how much she sucks and half the time the ppl didnt watch the show itself

i also think its making people blur the line between their own interpretation and what the actual writing intent is "omg coswan got marriage counseling in anw after slowly falling out thats cute" a fun headcanon but people speak of it like it was fully intentional, from the pitchbible coswan were always ment to love eachother wholey, its just the fact that they brought in more writers who made more "i hate my wife" jokes and it went downhill from here, but also because the og fop didnt have its own connected storyline and character arcs, and i highly doubt they planned the 50 years wish in 2002, along with the fact that the ANW writers picking up the pieces and just going off their old writing if that makes sense

as a note on the last part i will admit that coswans relationship got slightlyyy better after season 5-7 ish, keyword being slightly, they dont make explicit "i hate my wife jokes' every 2 minutes and had some cute moments but its still there just much less unbearable

worst blorboficiation - poof WHATTTT WHO SAID THAT

the twink jokes were funny for the first week now its making me want to bash my head into the wall, im also not a fan of ppl molding him into a father for dev (i.e specifically calling him dad) because A) to me it just seems like ur reducing him to one character trait alone B) hes more of a "older brother who returned from collage" type of dude who just got his first job and it isnt going well

also perirep fans, the moment i peep in and i see fanart to me its basically that one yaoi base, close enough welcome back 2018

i want more ppl to take in account the amount of shit poof has been in the og show... YEAH hes a baby and wont remember anything and hes so lenient on da rules, HOWEVER have you considered that hes just trying not to loose his first job ever and when hes not doing godparenting hes being a mischevious little fuck (the cupcake gag, "I NEVER GAVE 2 WEEKS NOTICE!!!!!!!") and foop is also slightly soppy wet, make them daffy and bugs bunny!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i could probably list 2 more

part of canon you found tedious or boring - TIMMYS DAD BEING EVERYWHEREEEEE, like i get it the writers found him funny and wanted to use him more but by the time season 10 rolled around he was in basically every single episode and theyve dumbed him down to the point where he was so stupid it got annoying

crocker while i didnt like him also being shoved in every episode atleast had more going on for him because of the whole fairy hunter thing (and i liked kevin... rip kevin) and i get that realistically they couldnt do anything w the other characters cuz the voice actors left iirc but i feel like with this guy the people went "um . what do we do" and threw everything at the wall, holy shit i want to smash this guys head in with a metal poll, timmy moms can stay though

(on a unrelated note cuz i didnt wanna make a seperate post: hot take but iirc i think timmys mom was actually a good mother on her own when dad wasnt around, she just got so into him she forgor ....... if that makes sense)

[noface-phantom7]

Possession: "Buddy Body"

Evan was the type of person to hold grudges.

He knew it wasn’t healthy, but he just couldn’t stop himself, nor did he feel like stopping. It was as if a grudge was a matchstick that lit his heart, and all the bitterness and anger he felt from it were fuel to that fire. And it wouldn’t burn out, every minute longer he held a grudge stoked the fire, inextinguishable and burning. The only way to stop it was to let it burn out (which could take years) or, the thing he always had a penchant for: revenge.

Not all grudges warranted revenge, but to Evan, this one did. It was for a “friend” from the past, someone whom he held close, yet has caused him so much suffering in the duration of their friendship. This fire, he thinks, can only be extinguished by taking revenge in a very specific way that he knows the guy would be horrified with.

Evan had a particular liking and interest in the concept of possession, transferring one’s consciousness into another person’s body, and taking control of the entirely new body. Once upon a time, he strayed towards a server online with like-minded people. And there he met Jasper.

Jasper was about two years older than him, yet Evan found himself gravitating towards the man. Well-spoken, polite, and shared interests with Evan beyond just possession; they found themselves bonding together over such things, even roleplaying and telling each other of what they’d do if they had the ability to possess hosts, Evan even joking that he’d love to possess the other guy.

It wasn’t strictly a joke, actually, Evan found Jasper attractive and a good host. He wasn’t built, but he was a twink, he only needed to work out for a bit to get lean and twunk. He was cute too with his well-kept short black hair and glasses, Evan decided, and he was definitely one of the bodies he’d peruse if possession was possible. Besides, he knew the man was hiding a huge tool down there after he sent Evan a shirtless picture, forgetting to crop out the part where there was a bulge on his shorts.

Sadly, as most internet friendships go, it didn’t last for more than a year. It would have been better if they just drifted off, Evan thought, but that wasn’t how it happened. Jasper, he found out, was a manipulative asshole hidden beneath his nerdy cool exterior. What made it worst was that he knew Evan was gay, and despite him being straight, he would still poke fun and tease Evan. It was fun at first, but it was apparent that Jasper was using this against him to get away with his actions, especially after Evan confessed to having a crush on him.

It went downhill from there, promises were broken and lies were told, and when Evan turned to another friend who subsequently stepped in and called out Jasper, Evan found himself cut off from every way of communication possible. This was what started the flame.

Before all that, Evan and Jasper were researching the possibility of possession, mostly just for fun and to no luck. Evan, however, fueled by grudge, managed to make double efforts, and found a legitimate method that worked. It was worth all the sleepless nights, Evan thought with a devilish grin that night.

Over the months that they ceased communications, Evan found ways to discreetly spy on Jasper. Apparently, the man had started going to the gym some few months even before the incident (which he wasn’t initially aware of), and that he had been gaining a lot of muscle lately. He was still slender yet lean, his biceps even more prominent, and he grew from a twink into what Evan found out as a twunk. It turned him on greatly, despite his rage, seeing that body and imagining taking it for himself to relish it. After all, he always wanted to hop in, and all the muscle he had now was an upgrade.

Evan decided that the best way to serve revenge was to take away all that Jasper has worked on for the past months, and own it. He wasn’t strictly thinking of fully taking over the man’s body and life as he had his own, no, instead he’d turn Jasper into his personal spare body, a place he could go to whenever he felt like it, a second body he could use if he wanted to. It would be fun.

The spell was tricky, but Evan quickly caught on after the first time he tried it. And it worked, much to his satisfaction.

His first body was that of someone living in the apartment below his, Rey, a sculpted guy in his mid-twenties who Evan frequently saw and caught his attention. The guy lived alone, which was perfect, and Evan decided to perform the spell on him.

It was like astral projection, which was initially hard for Evan, but he got the hang of it after a while. He just had to keep saying the spell whilst clearing his head. This would dislodge his soul from his body, and it did. He found himself translucent and green, floating over his body, who started to get up and move on its own. This was one of the conveniences of the spell, he thought, he could leave his body behind in autopilot rather than in slumber as he hopped bodies.

He phased down the floor and into Rey’s apartment, where he found the man drying off from a bath. Which was perfect, he was preoccupied. He flew towards the man, and thrust his ghostly hand into his back, making him groan and arch his back. Slowly, he absorbed Rey’s soul out of his body, sucking it into his as tendrils of bright orange crept up his arm.

This was some irreversible consequence that he didn’t understand, nor he cared about. Apparently, the more souls he sucked and bodies he took, the darker his soul turned and the harder it would be to purify it. According to the shady blog, the souls he absorbed would be tethered to his as their bodies would be, this would also include the memories, every single sin and bad luck the soul he took as well. It must be some spiritual crap, he thought, but he pushed the thoughts away. He was damned, nonetheless.

His ghastly neon green self lost some glow as the last of Rey’s soul was sucked into his. Slowly, the body grew limp and he simply phased inside it. It was finally his.

It was safe to say that he stayed up all night exploring the man’s body and enjoying it, before he dislodged and went back to his own after being satisfied. Since he’s absorbed the man’s soul, he can remotely control the man to his liking, with or without him inside, as well as experience what his senses felt. Presently, he was on autopilot and acting like himself, as if nothing happened.

That was one way to take over, Evan wanted to do it differently with Jasper. He felt a stirring inside his chest as he thought of it, and he decided to do it tonight. He couldn’t wait, the stiff tool inside his pants agreeing.

That evening after his parents left him alone, Evan locked himself in his room, and started to chant as soon as his back met the bed. Chills ran all over his body as he took a deep breath, then exhaled as his soul detached itself from his body. He floated overhead, as he watched his body roll over the bed and pick his phone up. Good.

Evan knew Jasper lived a few cities away, and he knew where. He tested it the night before, but turns out he didn’t need to fly through the night (though he could if he chose to). All he had to do was: think of the man as hard as he could.

Sure enough, he felt an extreme pulling sensation, and then a snapping release, as if he was just slingshotted as what happened last night. He suddenly found himself floating above the familiar house where Jasper lived. He didn’t dare enter the house last night as he might not be able to resist jumping inside the man immediately, but now, Evan felt shivers run all over his spectral form in excitement.

“I got you now.” he whispered to himself as he floated down, looking up at the starry night sky. Evan then found himself floating in the middle of Jasper’s room, the man just getting off his computer from work. He smirked, arms-crossed as he surveyed Jasper.

They hadn’t met in-person yet, at least Jasper didn’t. He really did swell up, evidenced by his shirt clinging onto his body when he distinctly remembered that it was loose the first time Jasper sent him a selfie with that shirt on. The man had a satisfied look on his face, one which Evan felt annoyed at and at the same time excitement to see it erased from his face.

It was just eight in the evening, the usual end of Jasper’s work online. He began stretching as he got up from his chair, his shirt hiking up a bit to reveal the beginning of a v-line. His shorts hung loose, except for the crotch area where there was a slight bulge.

Perfect, Evan thought as he moved forward in front of Jasper.

“It’s my turn now, buddy.” He whispers to Jasper, who merely feels a slight cool breeze on his face, making him pause. Evan snickered, and thrusted his own ghostly bulge towards Jasper, feeling it connect with the man’s.

Jasper gasps and barely contains a moan as both a cool sensation rushed into his crotch, followed by a warm feeling swallowing up his member, which started to bone out on its own. “W-what the f-fuuuuck…”

Evan grinned as Jasper’s stiff member accepted that part of Evan’s soul. A sudden rush of lust filled the both of them, with Jasper moaning and gasping, confused and turned on by what was happening. Meanwhile, Evan’s spirit member started to merge and take over that of Jasper’s yet they both felt the pleasure from down there.

Quickly after as Jasper’s knees started to tremble, Evan thrust his hand into one of Jasper’s. Tendrils of blue started to climb Evan’s arm as he made contact, fully taking Jasper’s left hand over.

“Shit… shit, what the fuck is—happening..?” Jasper struggled to say, moaning out as Evan moved his new hand towards their boner. Through the cloth, he massaged the head as it boned out more, eliciting a loud moan from both of them and in sync. Unable to take it anymore, Evan thrusts his other hand into Jasper’s other, the same thing happening as he immediately uses it to pull down his boxers.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Evan beamed as Jasper watched in horror while his own hands started to strip him naked and grip his member, which boned out fully in all its glory. Evan relished both the pleasure he felt, and the expression on the man’s face. He started to stroke his new schlong, enjoying the feeling as his legs slowly found its home inside Jasper’s, followed by a gasp.

“G-get out...fuck, get out of me.” Jasper growled, and Evan merely stifled a laugh.

“So you finally realized what’s happening. Smart.” Evan whispers, though Jasper does not hear, as he picks up the pace of his strokes. Evan brings one of their hands to feel Jasper’s chest, whose head throws back when Evan sensually pinches his sensitive nipple. Slowly, he pushes his entire arms inside of Jasper’s leaving only his body, neck, and head outside of Jasper’s.

Jasper was slowly losing it, as his head was filled with the fog of pleasure from both being invaded and his member being pumped. Evan made one of their arms flex, the biceps clear and showing, turning him on even more, including the near-defeated expression in Jasper’s face.

“Please...just—fuck I…” Jasper tried, as he felt his rod slowly filling up. Evan felt it too, and he used his free hand to massage and pull at his new balls, to add more to the pleasure.

“Fuck yeah, I can feel it too.” Evan says, moaning at the same time as Jasper does. He gripped their rod tighter, making Jasper whimper as cum filled the entire length, threatening to explode.

“F—fuck, here it comes!” Evan says, unable to hold it in, as they release, spurts of white shot out and hit Jasper in the face and neck, and on his chest. It was a lot, and Evan recalled that the mad would sometimes keep it in for a month before releasing.

At this, Jasper was slowly losing consciousness, as if every shot he made drained him out and Evan’s soul absorbed his. Evan was almost laughing, again, at this point as shock crossed Jasper’s face while the rest of him slowly sank inside the man’s body and started to take over.

“Evan—you…” He tried as only Evan’s head wasn’t inside Jasper. “Please, get...out..”

He didn’t get to finish as Evan Jammed his head inside Jasper’s, whose face goes from shock, to an expression of relief.

His member, which started to soften while Evan sank into him, sprang back to life as he started to laugh maniacally. He started feeling himself again, moaning as he brushed his hand against the tip of his still sensitive dick, spreading the cum on his chest all over his body, flexing and smirking in front of the mirror until once more, he shot strings of white into it.

“Serves you right, asshole.” He says to his reflection, hand on his chest and holding his dripping member. “Fuck you, I’m you now. Buddy.” He adds, mockingly.

Evan stayed inside Jasper for a few weeks, trying new things, sabotaging the man’s social media and making him come out as gay. He spent hours in front of the mirror in a day, playing with himself, until he went back to his own body. But it wasn’t for long. He had control over Jasper’s body still, but he enjoyed hopping inside and reenacting their last encounter. One time, he even got Rey’s body included to add more fun to it, and even record what was happening.

Eventually, Evan felt the grudge snuffed out of his heart, the fire no longer blazing, Jasper already conquered. As much as he liked playing with Rey’s body once in a while, he still found himself more satisfied being Jasper. And he deserved it, truly, he thinks. This was payback.

Still, with this much power, Evan wondered what he should do next.

He pondered on this, still wearing Jasper’s body. Until an idea crosses his head, and he smirks as he pulls up the list of people he and Jasper wanted to possess.

Evan wondered, again, “How many bodies can I take over?” as he starts chanting the spell.

[whoacanada]

Zimmerbro AU

Summary: Andrew Phillip Rowe could skate before he could walk, and it wasn’t until he was almost twenty and well on his way to becoming a Las Vegas Ace before he knew why.

a/n: that’s right we’ve got a secret zimmermann brother au based on the fact that Bob was an active pro athlete for almost 15 years before Jack was born and almost definitely had relationships before Alicia. This particular one resulted in a secret love child.

When the call finally went out that year —  a request for players willing to billet the incoming draftees —  Andrew had been the first in line.

His already sparsely decorated guest room had been primed for a new tenant since he’d learned Las Vegas’ abysmal season had earned them the first pick of the 2009 draft. In his mind, Andrew had envisioned a tearful confession. A family reunion nineteen years in the making where he’d finally get a chance to connect with a half-brother he’d grown up learning about through news articles and stats pages.

He wasn’t ready for Jack to pull out of the draft days before the ceremony; wasn’t ready for the claims of an overdose or speculation about suicide attempts. He certainly wasn’t expecting to have to open his home to a young man with limp blonde hair and deep circles under his eyes with the same enthusiasm he’d promised he’d offer to a son of Bob Zimmermann.

Andrew was hoping for a little brother. 

He got Kent Parson instead.

______

“You remind me of my boyfriend.” Kent slurs one night, completely gone on Johnny Walker Blue borrowed from Andrew’s wet bar. “It’s your . . . face.”

“Shouldn’t talk about things like that,” Andrew cautions gently, covering his own surprise. “Never know who might be listening.”

“Who fucking cares? He won’t talk to me,” Kent continues, ignoring him and sniffing like he’s on the verge of sobbing or puking, both options equally unwanted. “They wouldn’t tell me if he was even alive.”

Another unwanted puzzle piece locks into place.

“Jack?” Andrew suggests softly, and Kent begins to cry.

“You won’t tell right?”

Andrew shakes his head no, long enough for Kent’s bleary eyes to focus on the gesture and take it seriously.

Things are different, after that conversation. Not worse, or better, just different.

________

“He’s my brother.”

Andrew admits this one night, for no reason other than that he can.

Kent is across the room, backlit by lights from the Strip, his legs dangling off the arm of his favorite couch as he scrolls through his phone looking for distractions. Parse hasn’t lived with Andrew for almost two seasons, but he still turns up like a bad penny whenever he needs to commiserate with someone who knows his more lascivious secrets. Truthfully, Andrew’s grateful for the company. He’s a pretty genial guy, but he’s always kept his distance, a personality trait he likes to think he shares with an unassuming sibling, but there’s no way to know for sure. The farther Andrew gets from the 2009 Draft, the less faith he has in a reunion that won’t just bring crippling sorrow to everyone involved.

A secret Zimmermann son who actually made it in the NHL. Who has his name on the Stanley Cup, not once, but twice, largely thanks to the spitfire forward lounging in Andrew’s living room.

“Who’s your brother?” Kent asks, not looking up from his phone.

“Jack Zimmermann.”

Kent barks a laugh and rolls his head lazily to smirk at Andrew.

“That’s funny. I guess you kinda have the same chin. Was Marky digging for chirps?”

Andrew has no idea what that means, but he sets down his tablet and says, “No, he’s actually my half-brother. My mom dated Bad Bob in ’84 and got pregnant.”

The lackadaisical smile on Kent’s face falters as his gaze sharpens, like he’s actually looking at Andrew for the first time. Andrew responds by gesturing at himself lamely.

“That’s not funny.”

“No.” Andrew agrees. “It isn’t.”

Kent swings his feet down off the couch and braces himself against the overstuffed leather. He doesn’t look mad, but there’s something too close to disbelief for Andrew to convince himself everything’s okay. It takes a moment, but Kent must find what he’s looking for on Andrew’s face.

“Does Bob know?” Kent asks with that familiar overfamiliarity, as if they both still have some personal relationship with the living legend.

“Yeah. When Mom got pregnant she told him she didn’t want the attention since it was only a fling — ”

“Who the fuck doesn’t lock down Bob Zimmermann?” Kent breathes. “Also, why the fuck did she tell you that?”

“No shit, right? She got him to sign away parental rights, set up a trust, never spoke to him again as far as I know. I didn’t find out until after I signed with the Aces. She didn’t want me to get blindsided if it all came out, but the story never broke.”

“I mean, does Bob know who you are?” Kent questions. “Does Jack?”

Andrew shakes his head no, because he doesn’t think so, and Kent flops back against the cushions, face slack with disbelief; it doesn’t take long for his features to shift to anger.

“You knew this whole time and you didn’t tell me? Even after I told you —“

“Okay, there’s a whole-ass difference between you fucking dudes and and me being ‘Bad Bob’s bastard’,” Andrew bites, curtailing Kent’s imminent hissy fit. Appropriately, Kent closes his mouth, almost pouting.

“Fine. But that’s fucked.” Kent says after a loaded moment of silence. “I’m sorry you’re . . . you.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry you’re you, too.”

“You know Jack’s signing with the Falconers, right?” Kent offers like the worst kind of olive branch, unintentionally telling Andrew exactly what he was up to during that stretch of time between New England games a few months prior. “It’s not public but it’s happening. Ink’s dry.”

“I know. That’s why I told you. It’s gonna be weird,” Andrew swallows, thinking about playing Providence in the coming months.

“Fucking right it’s weird.”

_________

For the most part, the Las Vegas Aces are decent, stand up guys. Even with the accusations of gambling debts and mob connections with the ownership group, Andrew’s never been asked to hit a certain player a little too hard, or to take a dive so the other team gets a shot at a power play. A lot of talk, a lot of conspiracies, ‘Typical Aces hockey’, but there’s no malice. Not really.

Andrew thinks it’s hilarious he plays the game a lot like his estranged father, but he’s not a legend in the making, hell, at this point he’s barely regarded as more than a mid-level, reliable center that can bring home 40 points a season.

Carly whips behind Zimmermann’s back to clip his skate with a stick, dropping a ill advised chirp that sets every player in earshot on edge. Parse is close enough to catch the quiet slur, stiffening like he’s been hit, and Andrew watches Zimmermann recover quickly, steely and resolute. 

Jack has his mother’s eyes — not the warm brown Andrew catches every time he looks in the mirror.

“He’s a fucking goon,” Andrew breathes, gliding up to Jack’s shoulder in lieu of an apology. Zimmermann doesn’t miss a beat, his gaze flicking to Andrew with the quiet rage of ‘who gives a fuck’. Andrew admires his commitment to the game. Coming back after so much, after so long, to willingly subject himself to the same kind of treatment that Andrew knows likely led to his original fall from grace.

“Hey,” Kent ducks his head as he slides up a little while later, mouthguard clenched between his teeth, and asks, “You see his twink?”

At Andrew’s obvious confusion, Kent jerks his head toward the glass behind the Falconers’ bench, to a raucous group of fans all sporting fresh Zimmermann jerseys. Andrew’s gaze drifts along the row of faces, lingering longer on the familiar, handsome couple beside the blonde young man. He may be imagining things — the stadium lights catching a bad angle —  but for the briefest moment, Andrew holds eye contact with his father.

“He’s cute, right?” Kent says bitterly, like he doesn’t have a partner of his own back home.

“Yeah, he is. You gonna do anything about the slurs, Captain?” Andrew counters, earning a stern look from Parson.

“I’ll deal with Carly.”

“Oh, you will? Because I’ve never seen you shut him down before.”

“I’ll handle it.”

Kent’s expression goes stormy, and he gives Andrew a hard shove before skating off to set up for the next shift. To his credit, he does grab Carly by the arm and tell him something that earns a look of displeasure from the larger man, but Andrew knows a verbal warning won’t curtail someone as dead-set in his conservatism as Carly.

The next play, Carly flashes Andrew a toothy smile over the lineman’s shoulder, as if they’re in on the same joke, and his vision goes red.

__________

__________

“Bad Bob’s outside,” Scraps rasps, like whatever brief interaction he’s just had has physically winded him. “He wants to talk to Flip.”

Andrew blinks up from the water bottle in his hands, previously concerned with the pink-stained gauze wrapped around his knuckles. A few of the guys start chirping, but most of them remain silent, still processing the fact that Andrew assaulted one of their own without clear motivation, in defense of an opponent.

“That’s what this was all about? You gunning for a trade?” Sorenson spits from his stall. “Needed to impress Bad Bob by beating the snot out of Carly?”

“Maybe I am,” Andrew sighs, pushing himself to his feet, wincing at the way his jaw aches from the few good hits Carly had managed to squeeze in before he went down. “What the fuck are you gonna do about it.”

_______

Andrew’s grateful he kept his skates on. He needs the boost of confidence that comes with the added height, especially when he finds Bob Zimmermann waiting patiently in the corridor like he’s just another staff member and not the second most recognizable figure in modern hockey.

“Hey kid,” Bob greets, casting an approving, overly-familiar eye over Andrew’s padded bulk and sweat-slick hair. “You can throw a hell of a punch. Don’t think I’ve ever seen a guy beat the piss out of a teammate before. Off ice, sure, but never during a game.”

His accent is just as thick in private as every interview Andrew’s ever caught live — but his tone is unexpectedly warm, even grateful — when Bob laughs at his own recounting of Andrew’s assault attempt, the sound is light and joyous like nothing in the world comes easier to this titan of a man.

Andrew wonders if Bob can recognize the chin they share beneath a his playoff beard; if there’s any resemblance left in a nose that’s been reset a half-dozen times.

Andrew grew up loved and never wanted for anything. His step-fathers, both of them, had been good men who never left him looking for a father figure. It wasn’t until his twenties that Andrew even realized there was hole where his bio-dad should have been, and not just a regular hole, a yawning sinkhole threatening to devour his entire sense of self, because his biological father turned out to be a man he grew up idolizing as a personal hero.

He’s not mad at his mother, but when Andrew struggles to find his voice — which is bullshit seeing as he’s almost thirty-five and a god-damned professional athlete — he can’t stop himself from feeling like a misplaced child.

“Do you,” Andrew swallows, looking over Bob’s shoulder to see if anyone’s watching them. Finding they’re alone, he rallies quietly, “Do you know who I am?”

Bob’s jovial expression softens into something remorseful, but unfathomably kind. “I do, buddy,” he acknowledges, somehow squeezing three decades of affection into one term of endearment. “I’ve known for some time, now. The whole time, actually.”

That hurts more than expected.

“Does your wife? Does Jack?”

Bob shakes his head, but it isn’t a hard no.

“Alicia knows, and Jack has some idea he’s got a half-brother, but it’s all in the abstract. No specifics. Definitely doesn’t know you play. I wanted to respect your privacy and your mother’s wishes. She let me know she’d told you the truth a few years back and I wanted to give you the space you needed if you decided to reach out. When you didn’t, well, a man makes assumptions.”

Andrew looks down at the concrete beneath his skates and sniffs hard, fighting nasal drip from the smelling salts he’d needed in the third period; or, at least, that’s what he tells himself. “I had a plan, back when — ” he stops himself, looking down at his skates. Bob’s eyebrows lift in curiosity, leaving room for Andrew to gather his thoughts, but he doesn’t take the bait, unable to bring up what could have been just yet. Bob seems to grasp the context after the moment.

“2009,” he acknowledges softly. “Hell of a year.”

“Yeah. It was. Is he okay?”

“What, Jack? He’s leagues ahead of where he was then —”

“No, I mean, tonight. Carly clipped him pretty hard before I got in there.”

“Oh, a little bruised up, but he’ll live. Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Okay.”

Andrew looks down at his bandaged fist and realizes he’s completely forgotten how gnarly his face must look.

“Trainer says I’m alright, but I’m gonna get leveled with a wicked fine, I know it.”

“Was it worth it?” There’s a look of guilty pride on Bob’s face, like the man’s enjoying himself a little too much when he leans in and whispers, “You just did something I’ve wanted to do since Jack was in mites. Fucking lay out one of those fuckers that’s got nothing better to do than bitch because they can’t play,” there’s a moment of hesitation, as if he’s worried about pushing a boundary, before he adds, “How’d it feel to look out for your little brother?”

Pride, it turns out, in contagious, and Andrew feels like he could go back on the ice and do it all over again. “Pretty fucking great,” Andrew can’t help a smile, wincing when the gesture pulls at his split lip.

Bob slaps a hand on Andrew’s shoulder pads, then gets a grip on the back of his head, heedless of his sweaty hair.

“Crisse, you’re a fuckin’ beaut, kid. I’ve wanted to tell you that for years.”

Andrew can’t blame the smelling salts anymore.

__________

Jack clearly doesn’t see his father standing there with red-rimmed eyes, or Andrew in an equally unkempt state, and has no reason to think anything untoward has happened when he offers a handshake and pulls Andrew into a hug, bouncing his free fist off the back of Andrew’s pads. “I owe you a drink,” Jack says decisively when he pulls back, shooting a grin between his father and Andrew. “Can’t believe you did that.”

“More than a drink, I think,” the blonde guy Andrew saw behind the bench pipes up. Jack’s ‘twink’. Boyfriend. Whatever. “Dinner at least.”

“A pie,” Bob suggests tightly, keeping his voice even as he turns to quickly scrub his fist over his eyes. Andrew recognizes the statuesque woman who strides up beside Bob, and one quick look tells him she definitely knows who he is.

“Hello, Andrew,” Alicia greets softly, genuinely. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“You, too.” he says, the tightness in his throat coming out as gruffness rather than emotion. “This is great, but I should go shower and, uh, it was nice meeting you all.”

Bob’s hand whips out and fists the sleeve of Andrew’s sweater, keeping him in place.

“You have plans tonight?”

Andrew debates lying, because he doesn’t know how to move forward from this point, but they’re all looking at him. Waiting. Expectant. There’s too much at stake, and yet somehow — A sharp whistle drags Andrew’s attention back to the locker room. Kent is peeking his head out, and god knows how long he’s been eavesdropping.

“Yo, Zimmermanns. Bittle.”

“Parson.” The blonde says curtly, earning a wry smirk from Kent.

“Flip, we got a presser if you feel like putting a bow on the evening,” Kent’s gaze drifts to Bob’s flushed face, and he adds, “Or, you can shower and slip out the loading bay while I cover for your aggro ass because this is not going to be fun. Your call.”

Andrew looks at the small family surrounding him, his family, and says, “I don’t want to explain.” Kent shrugs and ducks back inside while Bob’s brow furrows in confusion. “I can do dinner, but I don’t want to,” Andrew holds his hands out in front of him, trying to gesture what he means, and Bob snaps his fingers in understanding.

“Ah, ha, I got you, kid.”

“Neat. I’m gonna go shower.”

“We will be here when you’re ready,” Alicia offers. “Take your time.”

“Oh, I will,” Andrew replies before he can stop himself, cringing the second his back is turned because what the fuck could he be any more awkward?

Time will tell.

_____________

.

[kiddolm]

Priority Herbert West X Reader

Summary: After so much neglect from a certain sciency boyfriend, can you do it anymore?

Warnings: AFAB, slight cursing, slight hint of NSFW

Word Count: 2,099

✧○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○✧

He's down in the basement. Again. Like always. Somehow he's managed to spend more time in that dungeon than usual, and it's killing you.

Astonishingly, you managed to get close enough to make the twink your boyfriend in the first place. Back then, he wasn't this closed off. He actually tried to put in an effort into the relationship. But now, here you were, missing the brief kisses he'd give you on the cheek while he momentarily came upstairs. When he'd take small breaks to come to eat, and you would have conversations about something other than his reagent. When he'd finally come upstairs to take the shortest nap ever but would latch on to you like he'd lose you if he let go. Where did all of that go?

You shuffle down the stairs into his makeshift laboratory, fumbling with the hem of your sweater. Was it normal to be nervous to ask your boyfriend a simple question? Probably not, but here you are shaking like you just got off a rollercoaster, merely to ask him if he wanted to go out to eat with you and Dan.

"H-hey, Herbie,"

"-don't call me that."

"Alrighty," you whisper under your breath. Here we go. "Do you want to go out to eat with Dan and me? It might be good to get a little break, and a breath of fresh air might be good for you."

"It's outlandish how you still come down here to ask me these futile questions. I thought you would've learned by now that I don't have time for such useless activities," Herbert mutters.

You deflate, not knowing whether to keep pushing or to let it go.

"Ok," you sigh; he's right. You have learned, and you're tired of it. You're through with the emotional abuse he's been giving. Day after day, you somehow got the motivation to keep going back down, and every single time you got rejected. You're moving out until he figures out what he wants.

Charging back up the stairs, you rush into your shared bedroom and throw a jet-black suitcase on the bed. While you shove God knows what into your bag, you take a look around your room. Before you had moved in, it had been dull, with one or two human anatomy posters hanging up on the wall and a mini-fridge for his reagent. Now it has a bit more life thanks to you. Or now, I guess you should say had.

Dan comes into the room behind you with a puzzled look on his face. He looks around the room and at the clothes and decor that's thrown into your suitcase.

"Uhm, (Y/N), we're just going out to eat."

"I'm moving out. At least for a little bit. Just until Herbert figures out if he wants me in his life or not," you huff, throwing clothes recklessly into your bag.

"Woah, Woah, Woah," Dan objected, pushing past you to stop you from packing. "What happened down there?"

You let out a sigh of defeat and slump down on the edge of your bed, putting your head into your hands.

"I've tried Dan. I have, but Herbert doesn't care about me anymore. He- He's lost feelings or something! We haven't had a real conversation in a week, and- and I can't keep putting in any effort if he's not putting in any in return."

Dan sits down next to you and puts an arm around your shoulder in the hope to slightly relax you. He's always had a unique talent for that when you'd either get freaked out from work or another one of Herbert's experiments.

"I'm sorry you feel like that (Y/N). Really. He's an idiot for not appreciating you. Hell! If Meg weren't in my life, I'd probably be after you. Not- not in a weird way," he says, stuttering through the last part, making you laugh.

"It's not on you, Dan, and thank you. I'm still leaving for a while," you say, looking down at the floor. "I think I just need to be away from here for a while, ya' know?"

"Yeah, I get it. Listen, I'll help you pack and- wait. Where are you staying?"

"I was planning on just staying at a motel for a while."

"(Y/N), come on. You won't be able to live like that!"

"It's just until I figure things out with Herbert. Besides, I can't keep living like this either."

"Alright, that's fair. What all are you taking," Dan asks, standing up and begins to fold the clothes you sloppily threw in your suitcase.

。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°

Herbert wanders up the stairs and into his -or better yet, your- bedroom. Except it doesn't look like it belongs to you anymore. Quite a few of your things are missing, and your keys and purse are gone. It's almost like you never had even lived there in the first place.

He sleepily stumbles into the kitchen, looking for you. His eyes dart around the room to find your bright smile that would usually light up the room. He spots Dan instead.

"Where's (Y/N)," he groans, pouring himself a glass of coffee like it wasn't already 8 P.M.

"Why do you care?" Dan scoffs. An obvious annoyance is radiating off of him.

Dan's sudden outburst catches Herbert off guard. What's that supposed to mean? Suddenly Herbert isn't so tired anymore, and it's not just because of the coffee he seemed to inhale.

"None of her stuff is in the room. She didn't tell me she was going anywhere besides out to eat with you," Herbert says, furrowing his brows together to try and recall if you said anything else earlier.

"She moved out," dan responds bluntly with irritation sketched into his face.

"What do you mean?"

"For someone always boasting about being smarter than everyone else, you sure are acting like a dumbass right now." Dan couldn't lie; it was nice having the upper hand with Herbert. But this time didn't seem so fun. The paranoia that was evident on Herbert's features was concerning.

"Where is she?"

"She told me no to tell you."

"When?"

"She left about three hours ago. Herbert, will you-"

"Why?"

That's Herbert's last question. It's filled with an emotion Dan can't put his finger on. Herbert doesn't show much emotion, so when he does, it's alarming. More alarming than his inhuman lack of emotion.

''I'm gonna let you figure that one out," Dan replies dryly, continuing his homework and trying his best to not give in to Herbert's pleas.

As much as Herbert hated to admit that he needed anything other than science, he came to a quick conclusion in his head that he needs you. One of the classic 'You don't realize what you have until it's gone' situations.

"Dan," Herbert pleaded, dragging out the 'A' in his name, "I need to know where she is."

"What are you going to say to her? You don't even know why she's upset," Dan exclaims.

"You could tell me why."

"And why should I do that?"

"Because we're friends, Dan! Do you want to lose (Y/N)?"

"I won't lose her. I treat her like she's important to me."

"Is- is that why she's upset," he pauses, contemplating Dan's words for a moment. "Does she not think she's important to me?"

"Think about it. When was the last time you actually took a break from your work and just spent time alone? When was the last time you've given (Y/N) your attention?"

"My work is one of my top priorities! She knows that, Dan. She knew it when we first got into a relationship. That can't be it!"

"Can't it? She knows that your work is a priority, but she wants you to treat her like she's at least one of your priorities. Good God, man."

For the first time in his life, Herbert was at a complete loss for words. The silence was almost foreign.

"Where is she, Dan?"

。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°

You've been staying at this dingy Motel 8 for the past week, and while it wasn't the greatest thing ever, it was better than having to put up with being constantly rejected by your boyfriend. It's time to go back and face your problems, though.

While running away was nice for a little while, the constant state of wondering whether Herbert still wanted you or not was trying.

Sure his work is a priority, but so are you. If he can't see that, then it's his loss. Well, that's what you want to say. Honestly, you don't want to lose him. He can be cold at times, but when he's not, you feel on cloud 9. It's cliche to say you've never loved anyone like you love Herbert, but it's true. When he gives you his attention, you swear you're the only person alive. He's very passionate when it comes to love. Even if things did have to end, he always holds a special place in your heart. Every memory of him will be constant in your mind, even the bad ones. You just hoped he still loves you all the same.

Pulling up to the house gives you a tense feeling, and you haven't even gotten out of your car. You feel the drama before it even has the chance to happen.

With shaky hands, you knock at the door. The worst outcomes fill your head, one being that Herbert gave up on what you both had and ends things without another word.

All of those thoughts evaporate when the door is flung open, and you get the wind knocked out of you by Herbert, who comes out and practically tackles you. His arms wrap around your lower waist, and his head nuzzles into the side of your hair, taking in your scent.

You stand still, unable to comprehend that your once very emotionless boyfriend is showing endearment. It feels so unfamiliar.

"I'm sorry," he whispers into the side of your neck, in between the small kisses he's been peppering all over you.

You're stunned. What happened to your Herbert? Who is this?!

He takes a step back and looks at you; his eyes are glazed over with a pleading haze. "Don't leave."

He looks pitiful.

Part of you wonders what changed. Did Dan talk to him? Did he come to this realization by himself? Whatever happened that changed his mind, did it even matter?

"You have to promise me, Herbert, that you'll start to treat me better. I can't keep being the only one putting any effort in," you whisper. Your voice starts to shake, and you know if you speak any louder, it'll break.

He can only nod his head as he pulls you back into the comfort of his arms. You lift your head and place a passionate kiss on his lips as he grabs your waist tight enough to leave bruises. Without breaking the kiss, he drags you back into the house, towards his room. The sounds that the both of you make are ungodly.

Who knows if Dan just saw the mess of two people stumbling around his house.

Things get heated as clothes start to disappear from both of your bodies. His hands wander over every inch of skin that he missed while you were gone. He zones in, leaving marks on your neck to reclaim you as his. As things escalate, he slowly but surely makes you understand that you're the most significant thing in his life; his sole purpose of the night is to pleasure you.

In the morning, you're stuck together, unable to tell where you start, and Herbert ends. You wake up first admiring him. It was nice just being able to stare at him for the first time in ages. You trace imaginary circles over his chest and breathe in his scent. It feels like home.

As soon Herbert wakes up, he pecks you on the nose and moves some hair out of your face muttering a few 'I love yous' as he gets up and gets dressed to start back on his work.

You're aware this kind of affection isn't something you should be getting used to, but you can't help it. When Herbert treats you like that, you wish it'd last forever. Secretly, he does too.

Later, when Dan asks what had happened between the two of you, Herbert denies everything, too worried about his pride. Once he was down in the basement, though, you fill Dan in on everything assuring him it's all back to normal. And it really is. Your Herbert is back.

✧○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○✧

Thanks for reading! Constructive criticism is always welcome.

[kalee60]

i wish you would write a fic where jock!bucky seduces twink!steve, maybe he hits steve with that pec flex guys do that is both dick-ish and insanely hot at the same time?

Oh Manda - you absolute gorgeous gem! I very much like what you're asking me to create here 😘 I also love, love, love that you sent me a prompt!

I immediately think of sun, summer, ice cream, boys at the beach playing frisbee and our gorgeous Smol!Steve and Jock!Bucky as friends mutually pining (Ha - it's me, it was never going to be anything but this story!)

Once again, my quick little drabble (that I wrote today when I woke up {thanks to my sprinting buddies in discord}) turned into a 4k fic... But I mean - I think that's okay (more stucky for us - right?)

I hope you like where I took this, maybe in a slightly different direction than intended - it's also on ao3 here (with all tags necessary) if you prefer to check them out and read there instead, it'll be part of my stucky bingo fills - Beach and rated M for mild sexual content 😉

If you'd like a fic - here's the post - I wish you'd write a fic... (It might take me a little bit to write - but I will get there!)

Steve was in hell, literally. It was hot, he was sweaty and he was being tortured. Honestly, Steve really loved summer, but at the same time he loathed it. And most of that had to do with the fact he had to sit around in his large group of friends and watch Bucky fucking Barnes sans top and wearing only a small pair of running shorts frolic over the sand at the beach.

Life was unfair. 

How could somebody like Bucky actually exist in real time? He was a complete jock for starters, his looks and size perfect for being naturally great at sports, earning him a football scholarship of his choice (of course). And Steve, well Steve Rogers was as far from a jock as anyone could get. Not that he was horrible in the fitness and muscular department, but he was too little and his asthma still played up to join rugged contact sports. Being 5’4 also didn’t particularly endear him to any of the coaches at college who were scouting for star players. Plus studying to be a high school teacher probably wasn’t sporty enough, and he was leaning towards a specialist English role, not Gym.

So Steve joined the campus gym instead of a sporting team, did weights and classes and enjoyed it immensely. It was where he met Natasha, and that fateful meeting brought him to Bucky and his dickish jock ways and friends.

Though if Steve was to be fair (of which he was - usually) not all jocks were dicks, even if Steve had preconceived notions from high school what college boys would be like. He'd been pleasantly surprised to find that the captain of the football team was not only gorgeous, cocky and a bit of a douche, but also very smart, kind and had a smile that could make Steve’s legs turn to jelly with only a small half tilt.

But it was as he sat on a towel under the shade of a large umbrella that Carol had stolen from her parent’s garden shed, that Steve really felt the heat, and it had nothing to do with the blazing sun above him and the burning sand beneath his feet.

It was all Bucky Barnes and his chest, his slim waist, his tanned olive skin, the breadth of his shoulders, the thickness of his sinewed and muscled thighs that tapered down to calves that bunched up as he jumped and landed to grab the frisbee aimed at him.

Steve sighed heavily as his gaze lingered on the brunette. Bucky Barnes was every mans wet dream, every girls perfect prince, and Steve pulled his dark sunnies over his eyes again, ignoring the pounding in his chest, the throbbing in his groin as he watched Bucky behind dark lenses spring up and prance over the sand, laughing with a wide mouth that could do sinful things to Steve’s body. The worst part was that Bucky was doing all of this with no knowledge that Steve harboured the biggest crush of his life.

It really was unfair.

Sitting back to lean on his hands, stretching his legs out, he saw Bucky glance over at him, and gave a smile. Bucky grinned back and then grappled Sam to the sand to yank the frisbee from his grip. Life wasn’t unfair because Bucky didn’t date guys, he did, very much so, and girls too from what Steve had seen, it was just the guys Bucky dated were typically more like… jocks.

Steve hunched over, trying to not stare too long and inadvertently get turned on, finding it an impossibility as his eyes wouldn’t tear away from Bucky’s frame as he bounded effortlessly over the soft sand, something Steve couldn’t do. He’d almost lost a lung from the trek over to their secluded spot earlier that day. Soft sand was the enemy - that was fact.

“Heads up.”

Startled from his thoughts by Bucky’s deep voice urgently calling out his way, Steve looked up only to see the frisbee coming straight for him. With a reaction that even surprised himself, Steve raised his hand and caught the flying disc with nary a blink of an eye.

Bucky was skidding to a halt on his knees before him a second later.

“Shit, Steve. That was epic, you sure you don’t want to play? You can be on my team - my secret frisbee weapon.”

Steve’s mouth went dry as he tried to listen to the words leaving Bucky, because the delectable man was less than two feet away and the smell of sunscreen, sweat and something virile and uniquely Bucky entered his senses. Steve knew that if sitting next to Bucky in the dining hall was torture when Bucky was wearing his spicy cologne, he’d keel over being enveloped in his sweaty beach scent for longer than a minute. 

God he wanted Bucky to fill him, everywhere. Make him forget his name, take him over and over.

He realised that he still hadn’t answered and heat crept into his cheeks, managing to blurt out, “I’m good for now. Nat’s grabbing ice creams and I don’t want to get a stitch.”

Steve then gave Bucky what he hoped was a soft and cheeky winning grin, but the way Bucky faltered, swallowed tightly, face impassive made Steve wonder if he’d missed the mark on trying to be flirty.

He really was as hopeless as Darcy continually told him.

Steve’s eyes trailed down to Bucky’s broad and lightly haired chest, finding himself breathing quicker, wondering if he’d remembered to pack his inhaler. No, he was sure it was in the pocket of his backpack. Thank god, he might need it in the face of Bucky’s glorious muscles moving in his vision all day.

“If you’re sure,” Bucky finally said in a deep steady voice.

“Maybe later,” Steve stammered, holding up the frisbee with a shaky hand. He had to get a grip.

“Alright, later then, I’m holding you to that.” And Bucky took the disc from Steve’s grip and was off bounding towards Sam, Carol, Thor and Maria.

While Steve recalibrated his thoughts, Nat came back holding only one ice cream cone, licking it slowly with a sparkle in her eye as Clint trailed behind, wearing Nat’s beach bag and carrying the rest of the ice creams, and Steve worried she’d overestimated his balancing skills. But if Nat asked, Clint would do - it was kind of amazing the power she had over him without even trying. Although they weren’t dating (yet), Nat was never cruel, she was playing the long game and really liked Clint, but had been hurt before by some Russian asshole, and Steve knew that Clint, when Nat finally agreed to go out with him would never be the same man again. He’d be lost in deep shock and joy. They were perfect for each other.

A pang went through his gut as Steve watched them, taking a cone from Clint, wishing he had someone that wanted him as much as they wanted each other.

“Vanilla,” Nat commented with a scrunch of her nose at Steve’s choice as he took a lick of the creamy goodness, the chill on his tongue welcome under the heat of the day. “You’re so very basic, Rogers.”

“Hey there is nothing wrong with that. I happen to love vanilla.” A rich voice said from right in front of Steve as Bucky flopped down on the sand, kicking up little grains that stuck on Bucky’s thighs where he was sweating. Steve shut his eyes against the picture before him, once again pleading to any God or Goddess that would listen that it wasn’t fair, that they had to find him someone one day. He just hoped it would be soon, else his dick drop off from Bucky unwittingly giving him blue balls.

“You’re one to talk, you didn’t even want ice cream, just a soda. And a club soda at that.”

Bucky looked over to Nat, flashing her a wide grin, and Steve immediately started to lick his ice cream just to do anything but stare at the crinkling in the corners of Bucky’s eyes, or to watch his lips as they wrapped around the bottle tip. He only half listened to their banter as they kept teasing each other, Nat and Bucky having been best friends from childhood, the reason how Steve inadvertently fell into the group of jocks, for a lack of a better term to encompass all the fit people he was now surrounded with.

Nat had introduced him to everyone after they’d hit it off at the gym in first semester, and Steve had waited for the inevitable teasing to commence about his small stature, but it never came. He was always included, never mocked (unless it was called for, because he was a facts man and couldn’t help correcting people when they were clearly in the wrong) and it was such a novel experience, so how could he not fall immediately in lust with the football captain? One who had smokey blue-grey eyes, sinfully full lips made for kissing among other fun activities and a personality that you could fall into and live inside forever.

“Err, Steve… your ice cream, it’s ummm, dripping.”

“What?” Steve asked, realising that he’d been swirling his tongue over the top of the soft confectionary and that his fingers were now completely sticky as the ice cream dripped over them on to his thigh. “Oh shit.”

Steve immediately switched hands and started to lap at his fingers, tongue darting between them to catch all the creaminess, sucking them into his mouth one by one, only looking up when he heard a muted groan. Bucky was moving before him, squirming in the sand, and as his eyes landed on Bucky, he startled, surprised to find Bucky’s hooded gaze directly on Steve. But his eyes hadn’t landed just anywhere, they were trained to Steve’s mouth, and as Steve swiped his finger through the sweetness that had dribbled on his thigh, Bucky’s gaze followed that finger's movements. Steve without thought, heart thumping hard, confusion and awe flowing through his veins, stuck the digit in his mouth, licking off the stickiness. 

Thankfully, Steve had his sunglasses on, hiding his expression, but he knew his face was burning red at the brash and overt display. Bucky was watching him intently, the rise and fall of his gloriously thick chest heaved, and Bucky’s skin flushed from the exercise or maybe the sun. Steve wasn’t sure.

But it was as Steve licked around the base of the cone again, the ice cream melting quicker in the heat than he could swallow, Bucky’s pecs twitched.

Steve stopped all movement, caught at the tick of flesh, the way it bounced taut, watching with abject lust and desire as Bucky did it again - knowing exactly where Steve’s eyes were trained.

It was such a fucking dick move, a power move to get attention and Steve hated jocks who flexed like that, but on Bucky… on Bucky it was god damn mesmerizing. And it was after the third time Bucky’s pecs jumped, Bucky stood up abruptly and fled saying in a higher pitch than usual that he was jumping in the water, that Steve realised he might not have been doing it on purpose.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Bucky was dead, he was going to die from being hard for... how long had he known Steve Rogers, six months maybe? Well, that was how long he’d survived with a non-stop boner for the blonde man. And he was at the end of his tether.

Steve was everything Bucky ever wanted in a partner, smart, strong, intense, funny, handsome  and a person that he could fall into, spend time with - love.

So it didn't help his little issue to be at the beach that day, watching Steve sit under the huge umbrella on brightly coloured towels in his swim trunks and a loose tank with arm holes so big he could see all the way through to his muscular chest and pink nipples. It was driving him fucking insane. 

Sure he’d seen Steve wearing an array of items at the gym, but he’d never witnessed him so carefree as he was at the beach. He was smiling more, relaxed, joking while big sunglasses hid those gorgeous eyes that would give the ocean a run for its money as to what was bluer.

But what killed Bucky that particular day over every other day he lusted after Steve, what made him clench and twitch all over was watching Steve lick up his ice cream. It was downright obscene, Steve shouldn’t be allowed to do that in public, or at least he should have a warning sticker on his person.

Steve had a mouth made for sucking cock, and Bucky wanted, no, he needed to know what having those lips wrapped around him felt like. Christ, he wanted to know what it felt like to be buried in Steve, maybe even have Steve press into him. Fuck.

There was only one thing for it.

He had to seduce Steve, and he had to do it soon.

But that begged the question - how?

How did Bucky capture the attention of the smartest, funniest, quick witted and grumpiest man on campus? Not only that, but to have Steve take him seriously? Bucky was aware that people thought he was only a dumb jock, that all he had to offer the world was to play ball and shit talk other teams and work out in the gym. Which, yeah of course he did all of those things - but he really was so much more. He was studying economics, was thinking about trying to specialise and work as an international trade specialist after college, and although Bucky really loved playing ball - it wasn’t his whole life. He’d never go pro - well, not without a hell of a lot of luck and persistence, and he wasn't sure he really wanted to take something he enjoyed and make it a living in that way. He’d seen how broken some sports stars bodies were after a career, and he still wanted to be able to walk at forty without having had three knee reconstructions.

But Steve, Steve saw through all of that, he spoke to Bucky like an intellect, like he had something worthy to say, to add to the conversation. Even at the gym after Nat had introduced them (Bucky begging to know who the gorgeous guy she was chatting to on the rowing machines was) Steve and he worked out together, had fun catcalling each other for being weak and helped each other with their forms - something Bucky largely did just to get hands on Steve even though Steve’s form was perfect.

Bucky had been taken with the slight man from the first moment he’d seen him, always under the impression that Steve was too smart to even think about dating a meathead like him, even if he truly wasn't what his physique made him. So he stuck with friendship, but now he wanted more. Was going to ask for more.

“Whatcha thinking?” Nat asked as she swam out to float in the water next to him.

“Nothing much,” He replied, ignoring her knowing hum. He hated that they’d been friends forever and she knew all his tells.

The much needed cold water had soothed his itching skin, and from his vantage point he could look back at their rag tag group of friends, able to stare unabashadly at Steve as he laughed with Clint and Thor about something, staring up at Thor as he... as he fucking flexed in front of Steve.

“Easy boy,” Natasha grabbed his bicep that was taut from clenching his fists, “Thor’s with Jane remember? Steve’s not interested in someone like Thor anyway.”

Bucky’s eyes swung to her immediately. “What do you mean? Because he's a jock?”

Nat let out an exasperated sigh. “No you idiot. Because he’s interest lies elsewhere.”

“Oh,” Bucky’s chest squeezed tight, wondering who had Steve’s undivided attention. And he couldn’t help but watch Steve as Carol held out a hand to pull him to his feet, and suddenly Bucky forgot his disappointment when Steve pulled his tank off, revealing a gorgeous toned body in all its glory. Bucky’s dick stirred. Thank fuck he was hidden in the water.

“You are a colossal idiot. You know that right?” Nat deadpanned.

“I have to ask Steve out,” he blurted. “I need to… I need to be with him.”

“I know,” Nat said with a smirk, and Bucky looked at her gratefully, if she helped he would be fine. “But that really sounds like a you problem. Have fun with that.”

“You horrible cow,” Bucky sniped back, ready to splash her, but she was already under the water stealthily swimming up behind Clint, only to dunk the unsuspecting man. 

Bucky’s attention suddenly caught on movement on the shoreline as Steve stood knee deep, testing the water and with no further hesitation, dove in, coming up for air not far from where Bucky floated. Bucky watched mesmerized as the sun glinted off Steve’s wet eyelashes, before he wiped the droplets from them, smiling at Bucky.

“Oh god, this water feels amazing.”

“So would you,” Bucky whispered.

“Huh?” Steve asked.

For a long moment, Bucky stared at Steve, realising that sound carried over water differently and Steve most likely caught what he said. Seducing someone was hard, even though he hadn’t even tried yet.

Instead of answering, Bucky ducked his head so his mouth went underwater and swam towards Steve like a shark, deciding that he just had to ask him point blank, no messing around with seduction. Slipping up out of the water at the last moment he put on his most predatory smile, Steve’s eyes widening and he looked around, face flushed and Bucky hoped he wasn’t looking for an escape.

He quickly darted behind Steve, wrapping his arms tight around his lithe body, trying not to linger too much as Steve was the perfect fit, felt so good against him; and when he heard the small gasp from Steve’s throat he launched him into the air. Flinging Steve into the water a few feet away.

“You fucker,” Steve exclaimed laughing as he came up for air, and Bucky smirked.

Suddenly with a smirk of his own that made Bucky inhale sharply, Steve disappeared under the water, Bucky feeling him come up underneath his body and with a strength that belied Steve’s small stature, completely turning Bucky on more than it should, he was pushed up out of the water, throwing him completely under as well.

“Jesus, Steve. You should join the team.” Bucky spluttered when he came up for air.

Steve grinned back, pushing wet hair out of his eyes and Bucky stared, lost in how stunning Steve looked in the sunlight, that he was there before him alone in the ocean full of people, “I mean they already have you and Sam as Captains. Wouldn’t want to put either of you out of a job.”

Bucky laughed, “I don’t doubt you’d do it too, Stevie.”

And when Steve stopped smiling, Bucky realised what he’d said.

“Shit, sorry - you don’t like that? Nicknames?”

“No I... I do…” Steve answered softly, and Bucky became lost in a blue that matched the water they were treading.

“Would you get out with me?” Bucky blurted.

“Sorry? Get out of the water?”

Bucky internally facepalmed himself. “No, I mean go out.”

“Out. With you?”

Bucky nodded.

“Err, why me?” Steve asked in a small voice lost on a gust of wind.

Looking at Steve, who stared back at him with questions in his eyes, Bucky wanted to explain how much he’d desired it for months, to tell Steve all the ways he wanted to make him happy, and as a multitude of words sat on his tongue, Bucky suddenly understood Steve might not listen to his reasoning, might not believe him. So he decided to show his intent instead, and swam closer. Steve’s eyes were wide, guileless, Bucky seeing a small spark of something more, and hoping he wasn’t triple jumping over a line, he swam up behind Steve. He felt Steve tense up, anticipating to be flung into the water again, but instead, Bucky pulled him closer so that Steve’s back slotted against his front and leaned in, mouth only an inch away from Steve’s ear.

“Why you? Oh Stevie, you have no idea how gorgeous you are. How much I want you.” Bucky pressed his nose against the back of Steve’s ear and inhaled deeply, sunscreen, salt and Steve’s shampoo filled his senses and he lost his head for a moment, especially when Steve let out a high pitched groan and wriggled back into Bucky. “I want to spread you out beneath me, I want to lick all the sweat off your body, sweat that I'm going to cause from working you hard, making you work extra hard for my dick, because Stevie - I want you, I want you bad, and I think you might want me back just as much.”

Bucky hoped he wasn’t completely off base with his desires, that Steve really was just as interested, and when Steve ground back against him, skin sliding against Bucky’s, letting out another moan at the friction when he felt Bucky hardening up underneath him, Bucky knew it was going to be ok.

“Yes…” Steve whimpered as his shorts caught against Bucky’s dick, pushing backwards.

“You want that baby?”

“Fuck. Yes, I do.”

“How much?”

Steve spluttered, and Bucky couldn’t help chuckle at the noise. “What do you mean?”

“How much do you want it?” Bucky knew he was being a prick, making his pec’s tense against Steve’s back, pulling him onto his lap as they floated in the water, before wrapping a leg around one of Steve’s pulling it to the side, making Steve gasp gorgeously.

“A normal amount,” Steve husked back.

“Oh, you want me a normal amount - is that all?” Bucky smirked before licking a sloppy stripe up Steve’s neck at the same time as he snuck a hand down the front of Steve’s swim trunks, gripping his dick tightly, feeling the impressive length and girth for the first time. Fuck, he was definietly not taking switching of the table. But not anytime soon. First, he wanted to take Steve apart in every way conceivable.

Steve meanwhile, was liquid in his arms, going slack as Bucky took his time to explore while they floated in circles not far from the shore, but far enough out they wouldn’t get in trouble. He hoped. 

The moans tearing from Steve’s throat were getting louder though, Bucky loving every noise punched out of Steve as he stroked harder under the water, the friction and pressure of the water making him slower and more languid than usual. And Bucky wanted to make Steve call out with no thought or boundaries, nothing to stifle his pleasure, he needed Steve coming in his arms, again and again.

“I think you might just want me a little more than that.” Bucky rasped against Steve’s neck, sucking a bruise onto his pink skin, giving Steve’s dick another sharp tug and before he knew what was happening, Steve was shaking in his arms, whimpering out a release and Bucky was speechless. Utterly speechless as he continued to stroke Steve slowly, carefully as he jerked in his hand.

“Holy fuck, you’re stunning, gorgeous, the absolute best,” Bucky rambled into Steve’s neck, nipping kisses and pressing his lips against him in absolute awe at what had just occured.

Suddenly Steve moved, spinning himself around to straddle Bucky and he went under for a moment as their weights shifted and came back up spluttering, only for Steve to launch himself so his lips pushed against his. Steve took over, devouring his mouth, and although Bucky was the one in control, holding them both up, he’d never felt so out of control as Steve writhed and ground down as best he could in the water. Shit, Steve was going to be a handful and Bucky was there for it.

As he kissed back, grabbing the back of Steve’s head, holding him still as he pressed his tongue in deeply, a huge beach ball smacked into the side of his face. They jumped apart with a gasp.

“Don’t make me go get the hose!” Nat yelled out as she and Clint swam around nearby. “It’s about time you dolts wised up, but this is a public beach with you know - families.”

Bucky watched as Steve’s face flushed a perfect shade of red, and he couldn’t help but grab him again, giving him a quick intense kiss, claiming Steve until he struggled for breath, to show Bucky’s intent was clear and true. It was pure perfection.

“We’ll pick this up again later.” Bucky promised.

“Later.” Steve replied breathlessly.

Suddenly Steve pushed himself away from Bucky, grabbing and throwing the beach ball, hitting Clint dead on the nose. The surprised yelp from both Clint and Natasha made Bucky laugh.

“Oh it’s so on, James,” Nat yelled out.

Steve piped up from his side, “you wish, Romanoff - we’re gonna take you down!”

Bucky beamed.

“Yeah!” he called over to them, dodging the ball that came directly for him as Nat and Clint shit-talked. And as he and Steve swam out to retrieve the ball floating behind them, Bucky turned to Steve and gave him an overtly salacious wink. “And once we take them down, I’m going to take you home and show you what going down is all about.”

Steve burst out laughing. “Really? That was incredibly lame, especially for a savvy sex-crazed jock.”

“You’re not interested in my proposal then?”

“Oh I’m interested,” Steve grinned, licking his lips and Bucky caught his breath. “But if you’re going to use dad jokes on the regular - I might have to start calling you something else in the bedroom.”

Steve then threw the ball, Nat ducking at the last minute, and Bucky didn’t even feel when the returning pitch slammed into his head; Steve’s words creating a delicious cacophony of images and filthy thoughts in his mind instead.

Bucky had always known that Stevie Rogers was going to be both the life and death of him, and as he rubbed his head, grasping the ball in one hand, ready to throw it, he couldn’t wait to see where their adventure would take them.

But first - Clint had to pay.

[leupagus]

It's the Mileage pt. 3, aka seriously Zach can't catch a break

More from the Twink Nightingale Verse (Nightentwink? Twinkengale?) because I'm waiting on betas for my next It's Complicated chapter and I might as well write this scene that I've been imagining in some form or another since Peter mentioned it back in The Hanging Tree:

*

Another problem I’d started to notice was how Tommy would sort of… randomly not be able to do the job. Or if he did, the consequences were so catastrophic that I had to do everything, anyway.

It wasn’t laziness, whatever you might think about the aristocracy (he swears up and down to this day that he’s not any sort of a minor duke or anything, but I’m understandably suspicious). It was flat out just — well, it was weird, is what it was.

The first time it happened was a couple months into our probation. We’d been called to deal with some sort of argy-bargy at a pub near St. James’s (or maybe St. James’, I can never remember the rules about the apostrophe), but once we’d arrived Tommy had balked like a scandalised goat.

'I can’t go in,' he said.

'I… think you’ll find you can,' I said. I could hear shouting and, worse yet, I couldn’t hear music. Usually they only cut the sound once the fighting has progressed to things that involve words like 'contusions.' I wanted to avoid contusions, but that wasn’t going to happen if Tommy was about to reveal a sudden-onset phobia of belligerent drunks.

'Yes, I suppose I can, but it would be an extremely bad idea for me to do so,' he said, with the kind of rapid-fire clipped speech that I already recognised as him being nervous about something.

'It’s a bunch of chavs having a bad Friday night.' Somewhere in the pub a glass broke. 'Or a bad Tuesday night,' I amended. 'I promise to beat up anyone who has a go at you.'

'No one will make any such attempt, of that I can assure you,' he said, fiddling with his shirt cuffs — he wore the standard uniform shirt, but he’d gotten them altered so that they could take cufflinks, which by the time I noticed, didn’t surprise me. 'Kay, please trust me when I say that you would be far better off going in there by yourself.' And he lifted his chin to show that he really meant it.

The thing about Tommy, though, is that he folds like wet cardboard if you give him any kind of pleading look. I hadn’t asked but I’d reckoned that he was the youngest of his family. Older siblings catch wise to this kind of emotional manipulation.

So he came down with me after all. It was the worst kind of fight, the kind where two people are sincerely trying to kill each other and the crowd’s egging them on. I started wading through, tossing spectators out of the way so I could get to the two in the centre. One of them was a skinny ginger arsehole with, of course, a broken bottle in his hand; the other was a short squat guy with his hair in unflattering cornrows, holding a crowbar. I didn’t really fancy getting in between them, but the stab vest has gone from stab-resistant to stab-proof in the past few years, and most of your run-of-the-mill drunken sots don’t know where the gaps are.

Still, I thought I’d try some vocal calming techniques first. 'Oi!' I bellowed. 'Put the fucking weapons down!'

I’m used to people shouting back at me, or even taking a swing. But neither of them even seemed to notice. Nor did the audience; the people I’d pushed out of the way had swarmed back, and I was swallowed up into the crowd. Not just figuratively, either; I felt like I was being consumed. Violence and blood and fear and excitement — I could feel it in the pit of my stomach, in the stutter of my heart. The fighters were closing with each other again, ready to strike, and I had to watch, I couldn’t look away, couldn’t do anything but wait for it—

'Drop your weapons,' came a voice from behind me. 'Now.'

To be fair, they did — not just the fighters, but everyone in the pub, a clattering rainstorm of knives and blunt instruments and several firearms which, thank fuck, didn’t go off. I almost dropped my fucking baton before realising that the voice must’ve been Tommy’s, even though it hadn’t exactly sounded like him.

There was a pause while the crowd, the fighters, the bartender, everyone turned toward Tommy, stood still in the doorway. He wasn’t doing anything, just standing there, but the whole pub backed up a step.

And then another, and then they fucking stampeded out toward the back of the pub, knocking over tables and chairs and smaller patrons. There was yelling and a few screams and someone shouted 'the nightingale!' Then they were gone, like water down the tub drain. I could almost hear the faint sucking sound as the last of them scrambled off.

I hadn’t managed to grab hold of a single one of them, but I noticed the bartender was still here, glaring daggers at Tommy with his arms over his chest. He was another skinny guy, in his mid-forties maybe, the kind who never learned to sit still and so had made a career out of being high-strung and twitchy.

'Ten years,' he squawked, flailing his hands as he came out from around the bar. ’Ten years and not so much as a fucking postcard, you know there was a dead pool going round? And now I’m out of pocket five grand because you wanted to make an impression?'

'Dead pool?' asked Tommy, with the sort of polite interest he usually uses when he’s pretending to listen to our governor talk about his beagles.

The bartender wagged his finger in Tommy’s face. 'You tell your boyfriend that I’m putting all of this on his tab, all right?'

'We are not romantically involved, regardless of whatever rumours you and Stephen put about,' said Tommy. 'And if you want to bill the — police, you’re always welcome to open a small claims dispute with the Department of Professional Standards. However, please remember that I have a witness that can verify I merely asked that people drop their weapons.'

The bartender looked around and seemed to notice me for the first time. Which was a new experience for me, I’ll admit. I tend to get noticed right off. 'Oh — oh,' he said, and gave me a broad smile. 'Well, hello there, darling.'

'Zach,' and now Tommy’s voice sounded different, a bit like before but not exactly. It worked, though; the bartender gave a huff and went off to, I guessed, find a broom.

'Who’s that?' I asked, once he was out of earshot. 'And what was he talking about, ten years?'

'That,' he said, 'Is Zachary Palmer. An old friend of the family, I suppose you’d say,' He gazed after him for a few moments before turning back to me. 'So — what is a dead pool? I thought it was a comic book character or a film or some such.'

'You’re like the world’s shittiest time traveller,' I complained. Later on, Tommy would do some tests to see if I had some sort of clairvoyance ability or something. Jury’s still out, but I think mostly he was just pissed off that I’d managed such a sick burn without even knowing it.

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 11 first part

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Goodness)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Okay! This episode is a real slice of healthy family dynamics, not triggering in any way. [Uh if this is your first Restless Rewatch: that is sarcasm, dear readers]

Goodbye to You, Goodbye to Everything We Knew

Nie Huaisang asks why Meng Yao has to leave and Meng Yao says "I killed a guy without permission, so your brother fired me." 

Ha ha ha ha no he doesn't. But he does give Nie Huaisang a sweet, sad smile; he seems touched by NHS's distress. 

Meng Yao carefully removes Nie Huaisang's hands from his shoulders and bows to him, wordlessly signaling the change in their relationship from intimate friends to formal strangers, while Nie Huaisang looks crushed. 

They will return to intimate friendship in the future, but falsely. Meng Yao believes that truly loving a person can include destroying their family and using them as an instrument in your murder plots as long as you don't directly harm them.  Nie Huaisang eventually learns to use people just as brutally, but he doesn't lie to himself about what he's doing. This farewell may be the last harmless moment between these friends. 

Jiang Cheng is distressed by what's going on, while Wei Wuxian crosses his arms and watches, fully in Sherlock Holmes mode, instead of his more usual concerned-for-my-friend mode. This may signal mistrust of Meng Yao, who refused his initial attempt at friendship, and not in a sexy, slice-your-face-off way.  Or it may mean that he's reserving judgement on a complicated family situation. He maintains his uncharacteristic reserve through the entire encounter. 

(more behind the cut!)

Nie Huaisang runs in and asks his brother WTF happened. Nie Mingjue says "he killed my subordinate without permission, when he knows perfectly well power must flow from the ruler; it's like he didn't even read that Foucault book I gave him."

Ha ha ha actually he just yells at his brother, as if NHS doesn’t have his own relationship with Meng Yao after being wonder twink powers with him for probably a couple of years now. NHS has to sit and process his loss and confusion in silence.

As a younger sibling who would make friends with my older siblings' girlfriends and then lose those friends if they broke up, for reasons having nothing to do with why I liked their girlfriends, I super feel Nie Huaisang's pain here.

OTOH, older siblings are entitled to have break ups and not explain themselves to anyone besides their lover because that's the nature of intimacy. The moral is, uhh...don't have a family curse that makes you unreasonably angry. 

Jiang Cheng steps up to advocate for Meng Yao, because Meng Yao is injured, and because Jiang Cheng is actually a born leader who knows better than to throw away a useful subordinate. For example, even when Wei Wuxian is at his drunkest and most defiant, Jiang Cheng tries to reform him, not kick him out, only drawing the line at having unpopular zombie friends.

Wei Wuxian continues to keep his mouth shut, waiting for Nie Mingjue to calm down, and speaking only about the tactical situation. He clearly knows there's more to this story but he's pretty good at keeping his head down in a family ruckus, and we're about to learn why.

Yunmeng Town

The Yunmeng bros go home to Lotus Pier, where they are greeted in town with bows, smiles, and free stuff.

We've mostly been seeing them in their roles within the cultivation community, where Jiang Cheng is grumpy and anxious, and Wei Wuxian is sassy and iconoclastic. Here among common people, they are both charming, friendly, and polite, like the imaginary good kind of gentry.

They hear the news from a local lotus seller that the small clans are coming to the Jiang Clan for shelter, but that otherwise everything's ok, which doesn't sound like everything is ok at all. He gives Wei Wuxian a giant bag of lotuses for his sister to make soup from.

Home to Lotus Pier

All the disciples practicing in the courtyard at Lotus Pier are excited to see them, and one girl goes running to tell Jiang Yanli. Thanks to the admittedly beautiful design of Lotus Pier, she is running for a long time.

A long, long time. Getting around on all these insane walkways must be a real drag if you're not the flying sort of cultivator.

Discipline and Punish

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian immediately go and kneel while they wait for their official punishment. Jiang Cheng is kinda worried about the punishment and Wei Wuxian is like, I'm good at being punished, just let me do it. 

Much later, and for a really long fucking time

He also tries to get Jiang Cheng to stop being mad, even giving him skritches while he says they should be brothers after they die.

Which they will, as it happens, although Jiang Cheng after the Wen torture is only mostly golden-core dead, while WWX dies for real.

When Jiang Fengmian shows up Jiang Cheng starts to explain that they were with Lan Wangji, but Wei Wuxian hushes him; he is still keeping the secret of the Yin Iron. Although he's keeping it in exactly the manner that a teenager keeps their weed stash secret: immediately tell literally every teen friend about it, but keep it extra secret from everybody's parents. 

Happy Families Are All Alike

Now we get to meet Yu Ziyuan, who is generally styled Madame Yu but who I'm going to call by her name just as if she was a male character. More on that concept in a minute. She rolls up looking, smelling, feeling like a million yuan, with her two murder bitches in tow.

Her marriage is an unhappy one, and her husband does his best to avoid her and avoid conflict, lying to the kids that she's tired and then sending her away later with the same line about being tired, which is a particularly gendered kind of gaslighting. She is obviously not tired, other than being tired of Jiang Fengmian's shit.

I'm not going to say she's the worst mother ever, because parenthood in a feudal society entails a wide range of skills, many of which she has in abundance. She starts off with a relatively tender greeting to Jiang Cheng, tuning up his always-amazing sartorial style, which is exactly like her own. They are all ready for the mommy & me fashion show.

That said, she dishes out hellacious verbal abuse to everyone in her family. She targets each one in turn, making Wei Wuxian the focus of most of her ire, but without ever directly speaking to him. He is not, in her view, part of her family. 

The Stages of Family Dinner

1. Try to fix it and defuse the situation

2. Yeah no

3. Just keep your head down and be glad it’s not your turn in the hot seat

This family meal hammers home how much Wei Wuxian is not, actually, part of the family. Jiang Fengmian adopted him into the clan, and told A-Cheng and A-Yi to treat him as a sibling, but he didn't give him the Jiang name, and he didn't get his wife's approval. He also doesn’t expect him to dress like any other clan member, apparently. 

Compare this to how Lan Wangji, actual good parent, fully integrates his own adopted son into his clan and family, starting with giving him the Lan surname.  

The hits just keep coming as she goes after Jiang Cheng for being less gifted than Wei Wuxian, Yanli for performing labor for Wei Wuxian, and Jiang Fengmian for possibly begetting Wei Wuxian.

On first watching this scene I took her question "Is this how you raise someone else's son?" to mean that she thought Jiang Fengmian was being too nice to a kid who was actually an outsider, taking resources away from the real kids. But on rewatching, it's pretty clear that she's saying his favoring Wei Wuxian is evidence that Wei Wuxian is NOT someone else's son; that he's Jiang Fengmian's bastard. 

Jiang Fengmian doesn't say a thing to this, or to her mentioning WWX’s mother. This shit is why WWX is running around in the world desperate for any crumb of info he can get about his Mom; he hears about her all the goddamn time at home, but only as insults to her character.  

A Bitch is Not Wrong

Here's the thing, though; a lot of what Yu Ziyuan says is correct. 

Jiang Fengmian should be a lot more concerned about the danger to the children, and should not leave it up to the kids to decide who's going to bear that danger.

Yanli does a lot of food=love, which is ok in the right doses, but causes her to pretty extremely lose face during the whole "soup for Jin Zixuan" debacle. And her doting on Wei Wuxian is...kinda excessive. I mean, yeah, she’s more like a mom than a sister to him, but still. Running out onto an active battlefield to look for him, frex, will be a skosh too much. 

I have a dictionary too, mom

Jiang Cheng, as the future clan leader, shouldn't let his attachments affect his decision making, and should let Wei Wuxian, who's the superior cultivator, fend for himself more often. We love Jiang Cheng for those moments where he puts himself in harm's way to protect his loved ones, but it's not a good strategy. He constantly yells at Wei Wuxian for the exact same thing he does all the time himself; he just limits who he does it for.

After she roasts the shit out of everyone for these failings, she leaves, and everyone sits around being miserable and not talking about what just happened. 

Not to be gender studies-y on main but: the awful things she says to her children are really not very different from the things that Jiang Cheng says to Jin Ling, although her targeting is more adept. JC also says a lot of mean things to WWX when he’s angry. When a man says cruel or insulting things, it's often presented as real love hidden under a rough exterior. When a woman does it, she's a monster.

If you enjoy this sort of interaction you should definitely have a look at Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf and the plays of Eugene O'Neill.

Road Runner

Oh thank god, moving on

Lan Wangji is headed back to Cloud Recesses, and gets ambushed by the roadside with the most ridiculous trap this side of Wile E. Coyote.

Wen Chao thinks the "rug over a hole" trap is a good idea for someone who can literally fly.

Lan Wangji doesn't faff about with sword riding, he just fucking goes up in the air and stays there until he is good goddamn ready to come down. A hole in the sidewalk is really not going to be a problem for him. 

Wen Zhuliu does get in one kick before Lan Wanji yeets backwards away from him, in a moment that's scarier on rewatching, now that I know what Wen Zhuliu is capable of.

Wen Chao talks some smack to Lan Wangji, hilariously complaining about "your patronizing tone" to a man who has literally never spoken a word to him, IIRC, and certainly isn't speaking now. Maybe it's a mistranslation and should be "attitude," or maybe Wen Chao is just that dumb.

Apparently Wei Wuxian made a stack of talismans for Lan Wangji to take on the road with him. This talisman is a twin to the one Lan Wangji brings out way, way later in Yunping, when Wei Wuxian says "you even have kept it until now." Missing scene alert! What else did he make for him?

In Yunping this talisman is used to distract some random harmless street bullies. Here it is used against a seven-man murder squad.

This works.

Assault on Cloud Recesses

Forgettable disciple #1, Su She, comes rushing in to tell Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen that Cloud Recesses is under attack.

I'm pretty sure these dudes already know it, because they are meditating extra hard with a buttload of incense, and Lan Qiren is about to cough up some blood. So I think they're trying to hold the ward, rather than just, like, chilling while their disciples get stabbed.

Cloud Recesses is super on fire, you guys; it's going to totally burn to the ground; look at that conflagration, oh the humanity, etc.

Lan Qiren Rises to the Occasion

Ok, I like to rag on Failmaster Qiren and he is definitely an authoritarian dick a whole lot of the time, but in this scene he is fucking amazing.

He starts off worrying about Lan Wangji, not just out of affection but out of strategic planning, probably in equal parts. All three of these Lans take their clan responsibilities extremely seriously.

Then he calmly assesses the situation while imperturbable Lan Xichen freaks the fuck out. 

Lan Xichen is right to be alarmed, because he knows his uncle, he knows one of them is likely to die, and he knows that Lan Qiren will choose to take the hit.

I love, love, love Lan Qiren's physicality here; how centered and assured he is, as he holds his nephew steady and explains what is required of both of them.

Lan Xichen knows Lan Qiren is right. He is utterly fucking devastated, and all he can do to show his love...

...is to obey. 

This whole scene just. kills me.

Su She and forgettable disciple #2 are in the room for this whole conversation, and they join Lan Xichen in this deep bow. Note: I will be reminding everyone of this fact in Part 2.

Whew. This episode is a LOT. Part 2 Coming Soon!

Writing Prompt: What other goodies did Wei Wuxian put in Lan Wangji's care package before Lan Wangji hit the road without saying goodbye?

Soundtrack: 1. Michelle Branch, Goodbye to You 2. Ludacris, Stand Up

[wish-that-i-was-buckys-girl]

hey! could i possibly request a blaine one shot where the reader is another girl working on the ski patrol with blaine and they absolutely hate each other, but one day they get stuck in a snowstorm during work and end up lost for a few days? and during those few days they just get more and more lied up with each other until they just end up hate-fucking our in the open? it can end however, but i’ve been dying for some blaine action🥰🥰thank you💕

Thank you so much nonnie! I enjoyed writing this so much. I hope you enjoy it too!

Warnings: Fat Shaming, smut, slight bullying.

If there are any misspellings I’m sorry! I wrote this all on tumblr and didn’t get a time to proofread it in a different document.

Ice, Ice, Baby.

_______________________________________________

You walked to the cafe for hot chocolate at seven o’clock in the morning to prepare for your shift. It wasn’t easy being on ski patrol, that’s for sure.

Dads always tried hitting on you while you were trying to watch their wives kids struggle to learn the most basic of skiing. You just nodded in agreement and smiled a little to get through the conversations. Wouldn’t wanna get written up for being “rude” to a paying member of the resort. It wasn’t always so bad, some of the dads were kind of cute, and they always tipped well if you just did the bare minimum of looking good and reacting to their advances. You weren’t even supposed to get tipped, but that didn’t stop them. However, you didn’t enjoy watching their wives glare at you around dinner time. You could always feel their eyes burning into the back of your head.

Although you absolutely loathed the attention from the dad’s (besides the occasional tip), there was one reason why you absolutely dreaded going to work every day.

Blaine. You could say he was the Blaine of your existence. Shitty dad jokes always crept into your head due to how much time you end up spending with them.

You had tried being nice the first couple of weeks into the job, only to be met with incredible amounts of misogyny and downright assholeishness. God, you hated him. It was so unlike you to hate anyone, but the kid was ruthless.

He always made nasty remarks about the way you look, whether it was your facial features or your weight, he had it covered. Even though he always tried to get his friends to join in on the action, they never did. Everyone else liked you at the resort. Blaine was the only problem.

You made your way up to your snowmobile, tredging in the deep snow with your backpack and snow shoes on. You secured your hot chocolate and your backpack before riding it all the way up to your post. The post wasn’t too bad by itself. It was close to a nearby cabin in case of emergencies, stocked with food, with working water and electricity to last for up to a month. Even longer if it was less than 4 people.

You finally arrived at your post, hoping Blaine wouldn’t be there yet.

He was.

Fuck.

“You’re looking plump today y/n, more than usual. Must be from all the hot chocolate you’ve been drinking” he said laughing to Chaz. Chaz just rolled his eyes under his sunglasses. You could tell.

“Ha ha Blaine, you’re so original. It’s not like I’ve heard that one before yesterday. Or the day before that. Or the day before that.”

“Yeah, well I think saying it everyday is a good reminder. Maybe I’ll see you in the resort gym one day because of it.”

“Why? Is it cause ya wanna see my tits bounce in a sports bra? Get ya all hot and bothered?”

Blaine just gritted his teeth in response. You could tell he wanted to say something, but didn’t cause he didn’t want to give you the wrong idea. Or the right idea.

Blaine always had a pretty girl on his arm. You doubt he was attracted to you, but you say those things because it shuts him up every time.

You bundled up extra today. The news said there was a possibility of a snow storm, but it was highly unlikely. Still, the wind chill was extremely cold today, making you double up on the clothes underneath your snow suit. You wore a beanie, mittens, and a scarf too, just in case.

You and Chaz chatted for a while, Blaine giving you resentful side glances and a few eye rolls here and there to show his detest towards your interaction. God, what was his fucking problem?

At about noon, Chaz took his lunch, leaving you and Blaine alone for at least a half an hour.

Silence filled the mountains. Barely anyone was out on the slopes due to the potential storm coming, but that didn’t stop your job from making you go out anyways.

The silence was broken with a call from the walkie talkies. It was your manager, Janice.

“Get off the slopes, news just confirmed one of the worst snow storms to hit this side of the mountain in three years. I repeat ge-“

The walkie talkies went silent. The wind began to pick up, starling both you and Blaine. You acted quickly, knowing this could be a life or death situation. You both hopped on your snowmobiles to get to the cabin nearby. Unfortunately, Blaines wasn’t working. You quickly shouted “Get on!” Reluctantly, Blaine hopped on the back of your snowmobile. Thank god it was his snowmobile that wasn’t working. You’re not so sure Blaine would’ve rescued you if it was your snowmobile that died and not his.

You reached the cabin just in time, the snow finally picking up with the wind. You quickly grabbed the keys from your snowmobile and stuck them in the front door.

“Hurry! Jesus Christ we’ll die at this rate!”

“I’m trying asshole! Stop yelling at me!”

The door finally swung open. You and Blaine rushed inside, aggressively slamming the door behind you and locking it.

Both catching your breath while clutching onto your things, you made eye contact.

Of course you thought.

Of course I’m stuck with the one goddamn person who hates me in the middle of one of the biggest snowstorms of the decade.

Blaine didn’t hold back what he was thinking.

“Great, I’m stuck with Fat Albert with minimal supplies. We’ll be out of food by tomorrow.”

You scowled at him snd stood up.

“THAT’S IT. First of all, I’m not fat. Second off, even if I was, that is none of your goddamn business to make comments on it. I have fat on my body. Just because I’m not the twink of the century like you doesn’t mean I should be degraded for it. We are stuck here for god only knows how long. If you just shut up I’m sure we can make it through this. But you’ve got to stop being such a fucking asshole to me all the time.”

Blaine just stood there and rolled his eyes again at your response. At least he didn’t open his loud mouth.

Such a fucking drama queen.

_______________________________________________

As the sun began to set, your stomach started to growl, loudly. You resisted eating all day due to Blaines comments, but you knew you had to eat at some point.

You gathered the courage to make your way into the kitchen to look around.

Thank god they keep this up to date regularly.

There were tons of cans of different soups, ravioli, spaghetti, fruits and vegetables, and non-perishables that would keep you sustained for a long time. Especially with only two people being in the cabin.

You decided to microwave some of the ravioli. Just as you opened the microwave door, it shut again with a hand directly planted on the glass.

“Well well well, what do we have here? Is two ton Tony looking for a little snack?” Blaine said in a mocking tone.

“Fuck off Blaine. It’s dinner time, I’m hungry and I know you are too. You just haven’t eaten yet to prove a damn point and humiliate me. Now if you don’t shut up I will eat all the food and make sure you starve to death.”

He grimaced at your response and walked to a cupboard to look for food of his own. Thank god. You swore you were five seconds away from giving him a swift punch to the face.

You both ate your dinners in separate rooms. You didn’t want to interact with each other more than you had to.

After a few more hours of existing in separate rooms, you decided you wanted to fall asleep for the night. You casually walked into the bedroom, having absolutely no pajamas to change into, you figured you would either sleep with the clothes you had on or just sleep in your underwear. There were enough blankets to keep you warm if you did end up choosing the latter. As you walked into the room you noticed something horrible.

There was only one bed.

How could this even be possible? There were supposed to be four, as most times three to four people were on ski patrol.

Then you remembered three out of the four beds were taken out two months ago, as they were desperately disgusting. The shipments for the new beds hadn’t come in yet, figuring a situation like this wouldn’t even happen at all.

Go figure.

You decided since you got to the bedroom first, you’d have the bed. Fuck Blaine, he’d been an asshole to you the entire time you’ve known him, he can sleep on the damn couch.

You began to strip, thinking it was wise not to smell up the two sets of clothes you had to last you for god only knows how long.

You ended up sleeping in a bra and underwear. Normally you wouldn’t have even worn the bra, but considering Blaine was in the building and you couldn’t lock the bedroom door, you figured it was the safest bet.

As you crawled into bed you heard footsteps heading towards the bedroom.

Here we go.

Blaine entered, looking just as bewildered as you did when you found out there was only one bed.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

You ignored his comment, simply rolling over under the covers.

He stormed over to the bed and ripped the blanket off, revealing your half-naked body in the process.

You became infuriated.

“Hey!!! Do you fucking mind!” You said screaming and grabbing for the blanket.

Blaine stood there in a daze for several seconds, not expecting to see as much as he was planning on seeing.

Thank god I had my bra on.

You expected Blaine to have a comeback to seeing your body. Something about a beached whale ending up in the bed, or anything along those lines. Surprisingly, he didn’t. He had nothing to say at all. He just turned around and slammed the door behind him.

What the fuck was his issue? Whatever it was, he better fix it fast. Your patience was running thin, and it was only day one.

_______________________________________________

Several days had gone by, and the snowstorm wasn’t slowing down at all.

Blaine had ignored you at all costs. If he had to interact with you, he always made some snide comment under his breath. This somehow pissed you off even more. At least before you didn’t have to guess what he was thinking, he said it directly to your face. Now, you had no clue what he was saying about you. God it made your blood boil.

It was around lunchtime again when you saw him. You had chosen to eat chicken noodle soup that day, as you had been colder that day compared to most others.

On your way out of the kitchen, you bumped into Blaine.

You heard him make a comment under his breath again, something alone the lines of “.......fucking bitch.......where you’re goin.”

You had had enough.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

He was taken aback by your abrasiveness. Nonetheless, he still had a response to your question.

“I said, watch where the hell you’re going you fucking bitch.” He enunciated slowly, in a condescending manner.

You were done.

“I’ve had enough of this fucking bullshit Blaine. Why the hell do you hate me so much? What the hell did I ever do to you?”

“Your looks have insulted me from the day I met you. I learned all that I needed to know by just looking at you.”

Out of no where, you decided to shove him. You shoved him so hard he hit the wall behind him.

He looked confused and offended.

“Did you just shove me?”

“I don’t know, did I just shove you? Or did you trip over your enormous fucking ego?”

Blaine stood up tall and pinned you to the wall.

He looked you dead in the face, his eyes piercing into you with anger and something else...

You returned his stare, hopefully having the same effect on him that he was having on you.

After staring at each other for what seemed like an eternity, Blaine kissed you, hard.

You resisted, you resisted so much but your head didn’t have anywhere to go. After a few seconds you gave into the kiss, slowly moving your lips with his. You hated to admit it, but his lips were so soft. It was like kissing clouds surrounding the gates to heaven.

Finally, Blaine pulled back and began staring into your eyes once more. Again, you lept at each other. You grabbed his hair and the side of his face, while he grabbed your hair and your ass to hike up your leg against his hip. Your lips were on each other in no time, sucking and pulling on both his lips and his tongue.

God you were so turned on.

You hated that he made you feel this way but fuck if he wasn’t good. He felt so goddamn good.

He hoisted you up against the wall, your legs wrapping around his hips as you continued to aggressively make out like the two horny twenty-one-year-olds you were. After kissing for five minutes straight, Blaine put you down so you could both remove your pants.

You spoke first “We don’t tell anyone about this.”

Blaine just nodded in agreement, eager to put his cock inside of you.

He hoisted you up against the wall for a second time, wasting no time shoving his cock into your pussy.

“Ohhhh fuck Blaine... go slow go slow...”

You also hated to admit it, but he wasn’t lacking in at least one department.

He smirked, knowing it was too much for you in such a short amount of time.

“What’s wrong y/l/n, can’t get fucked right either?”

“Maybe if you fucked me better I wouldn’t have to complain so much.”

All the talking had allowed time for your pussy to become soaked. Blaine could feel how wet you were. He also noticed how tight you were.

“Fuck, your pussy has been this tight the entire time and you never told me?”

“Oh Jesus Christ just shut up and fuck me before I change my mind Blaine.”

That’s all he needed to hear. He also took it upon himself to take that as the cue to go as fast as he needed to.

He started pumping in and out of you at a rapid pace, making absurdly loud slapping noises in the process.

You couldn’t help but moan into his neck, his name on your lips every ten seconds.

“Fuck, fuck , fuck Blaine don’t stop! Oh god don’t fucking stop.”

He loved hearing his name come out of your mouth like that. In all honesty, Blaine has wanted to fuck you since the day he met you. He suppressed that lust with crude comments, hoping the feelings would subside. Guess that didn’t work out too well.

“Yeah you like that baby? Huh? Like that I’m fucking your pretty pussy?”

“Oh god yes Blaine! Fuck me harder!”

He wasted no time, pounding into you as fast and as hard as he could. You couldn’t help but let your eyes roll in the back of your head as he fucked you so good you thought you were about to see God himself.

Blaine loved seeing you like this, drained by him fucking you relentlessly. In fact, he loved it so much he felt the need to repress his feelings once again, which would be his last effort in trying to do so.

“I still fucking hate you, oh god, oh fuck.”

You looked at him, dead in the eyes, and said “Bold words coming from a man who’s cock is in me.”

All he could do was smile, going in for another kiss while he continued to plow you.

Both of your moans filled the cabin, screaming with no shame, knowing for a fact no one would hear you.

You felt a tight coil forming in your lower stomach, causing you to hold onto Blaine’s shoulders tighter.

“Oh fuck Blaine, I’m gonna cum, oh god I’m gonna cum.”

Blaine took it upon himself to whisper more comments in your ear as you reached your climax together.

“Goddamn right you’re gonna cum on my cock. This is my pussy. No one else gets to touch it, just me. Cum for me baby, you can do it.”

You both screamed as you came, Blaine unintentionally spilling his seed into you. Thank god you remembered to bring your birth control pill.

Just as you two were coming down from your high, you noticed something out of the corner of your eye.

Not something, but someone.

It was Chaz.

You hadn’t noticed while you were fucking, but the snow had cleared up enough just for a one person rescue party. Chaz had come in just moments ago. However, he didn’t say anything. He really didn’t have anything to say. He was stunned.

As you both stared at Chaz, you were the first to speak.

“Well, fuck.”

[luninosity]

And - final @evanstanweek fic!

Prompt 7, “holidays,” this time...which, um...became International Talk Like A Pirate Day. And implied imminent sex, and piratical roleplay, and terrible, terrible jokes. And maybe something like a marriage proposal. 1,490 words, no warnings.

Read at AO3 here! Or here on tumblr below.

#

“Hey, Seb,” Chris says.

 Sebastian, lazily settled against Chris’s chest and halfway through reading a script for a potential upcoming Shakespeare adaptation, looks up and says, “For which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?”

 Chris laughs, and retorts with, “I do love nothing in the world so well as you,” because Chris knows Much Ado About Nothing decently well, too. “Know what day it is?”

 “Saturday?”

 “Yeah, but also International Talk Like A Pirate Day. Scott just sent me like ten terrible pirate jokes. What does a pirate use his cellphone for?”

 “Oh my god,” Sebastian says.

 “Booty calls.”

 “No.”

 “Come on, that was awesome. All of these…arrrr.”

 “I’ll divorce you,” Sebastian threatens, not seriously because he’s extremely comfortable right here in morning sunshine on the pillowy sofa with Chris at his back and Dodger draped over their feet.

 “You like terrible puns,” Chris says, “I know you do,” and then, “wait, we’re not even married!”

 “Exactly,” Sebastian retorts, with emphasis, and goes back to squabbling Shakespearean lovers.

 “You’re thinking about us being married.” Chris points a finger at him. “You love me. And the terrible puns.”

 “If you say anything about a Jolly Roger,” Sebastian says, “we’re not having sex for like a week.”

 “Can I ask if you’re prepared to be boarded?”

 Sebastian sighs, sits up, and kisses the love of his life, mostly because that’s always a good distraction. It works like a charm; Chris dives into kissing him and being kissed with every drop of enthusiasm that makes up that huge rainbow-hued exuberant heart.

 Kind of unfortunately, Sebastian’s head also briefly pictures Chris in a pirate’s hat. With a parrot.

 He resolutely ignores that image, and climbs into Chris’s lap, instead.

  Around lunchtime, Chris asks what he feels like as far as food. Sebastian opens his mouth, and then Chris says, “If we were pirates we could get barr-beque,” and Sebastian throws a couch-pillow at him.

 Chris apologizes for that one, though he’s laughing. Sebastian sighs.

 They get pizza, in the end.

  “Hey, Seb,” Chris says later, as they’re turning toward home, out with Dodger in the afternoon breeze, wandering around under trees like ruffled green dancers beneath a big blue sky.

 “Don’t you dare,” Sebastian says, hand held securely in Chris’s.

 “Why couldn’t the pirates play cards?”

 “Because the captain was standing on the deck,” Sebastian says.

 Chris’s whole face lights up. “You know that one?”

 Sebastian narrows eyes at him. “It was the logical answer!”

 “Why’re you anti-pirate?”

 “I’m actually not,” Sebastian says. “I’m kind of pro-pirate. Plundering, specifically. Getting, um, pillaged behind that tree.”

 “I love your ideas,” Chris agrees, and pushes him up against a friendly tree trunk and kisses him and gets hands all over him, pinning his wrists to tree-bark, sneaking under his shirt, pushing between Sebastian’s thighs, with Chris’s body large and hot and hard and adoring and pressed up against him. They make out in the woods until they’re both breathless and giddy and Sebastian’s about one caress away from coming in his pants, laughing, clinging to Chris, a leaf in his hair and mud on his boots, loving everything about his life.

  Chris kind of gives up on the talk-like-a-pirate day jokes, after that. Possibly this is because Sebastian’s distractions via sex have worked, or possibly not; either way, Chris seems apologetic about it, and even makes dinner, one of his mom’s cozy classic pasta recipes. He also opens a new bottle of decently expensive red wine Sebastian hadn’t known they had, and grabs the space-themed wineglass, the one etched with tiny stars.

 “I don’t mind your terrible pirate puns,” Sebastian says. Chris prefers beer, he knows.

 “Yeah, I know. I don’t know.” Chris shrugs. “Just felt like being nice to you.”

 “Why pirate day or whatever it is, again?”

 Chris shrugs again. “Just kinda fun? Random?”

 Sebastian considers Chris’s face, and the wineglass, and his own love. And then looks down at his toes, and tells Chris, “I’m wearing the wrong socks, then.”

 “Huh?”

 “Y’know, for the whole pirate thing. They should be, what…arrr-gyle?”

 “Oh my god,” Chris says, “I love you, I fucking love you, Seb.”

 “I might need more wine,” Sebastian says. “Especially if it’s from the…sand bar.” It’s the actual worst joke he’s ever made.

 Chris starts laughing so hard he has to grab the counter, and also Sebastian’s shoulder.

 Sebastian grins. Even his socks feel smug.

  They’re too full after pasta to do much about pillaging, so they flop down on the sofa and watch a documentary about Mars for a while. Chris gets a fire going, and the wind purrs outside, and Dodger’s snoring in his bed, and it’s so domestic and so perfect that Sebastian’s eyes get a little prickly and his heart feels a little shaky. Sometimes he still can’t believe it: being here, being part of Chris’s life. Himself, Sebastian Stan. Loved so deeply and so well.

 Because he loves Chris so damn much, he leans over to bite Chris’s shoulder. Chris grins and pets his hair, and even tugs slightly, because they both know how that dominance goes right to Sebastian’s head and stomach and happy cock; it does now, too, as usual.

 “You want me to do something about that,” Chris beckons, “maybe take care of you a little, if you’re needing some attention, Seb?” and his voice turns all low and rumbly and commanding, and fuck yeah, but:

 “One sec,” Sebastian announces, and hops up, and runs to their bedroom. He’s got a plan.

 He doesn’t have a whole lot that he can work with as far as costumes, pirates not having been a feature of most of his random daydreams, but he’s come up with a few ideas. A loose open white shirt, skinny black pants, a scarf tied around his waist. Some eyeliner. Some of his older jewelry, chunky extravagant rings and necklaces. He grins at himself in the mirror: some sort of haphazard pirate-steampunk-twink grins right back.

 He runs back out to the living room, where Chris is sitting up and being kind of puzzled, though that expression shifts the second Sebastian pops back in. Chris groans, “You’re just doing this to fuck with me, now, aren’t you…”

 “I was kind of hoping you’d be doing the fucking,” Sebastian says helpfully. “You know. On board with that. You can, um, come bury your…treasure…right here.”

 “Jesus,” Chris mutters, but he’s shaking his head, smiling, trying not to laugh. “Okay, okay, point made. Got it. Aye, captain. Or something.”

 “You’re right,” Sebastian says. “This is fun. Come claim my booty. Your booty. However that works. I’m all yours anyway.” He is. Body, heart, soul: everything he’s got, everything he is. He’s Chris’s.

 “I love you.” Chris gets up and comes over, hands settling on Sebastian’s shoulders, drawing him in close. “Where’d you find the scarf?”

 “It’s an old one. I thought maybe you could tie me up with it. Bend me over the bed—the railing, the captain’s bunk, whatever—and have your way with me.”

 “Are you the pirate, or am I?”

 “Maybe I’m your captive,” Sebastian considers. “You know, the dashing daring pirate adventurer that you keep chasing, good upright naval officer that you are, and you’ve finally caught me.”

 “And I’m about to do everything I can think of to you,” Chris jumps in. “Make you beg for mercy. Make you bend over for me, and spread those pretty legs. Make you take my cock, and like it.” His hand lifts Sebastian’s chin, fingers biting down: not too hard, and he’s grinning, eyes made of wicked loving conspiratorial blue. “That what you had in mind?”

 “Totally,” Sebastian says. “I mean, aye. Yarr. Yo, ho, ho, and rum, and all that. I think I like your holiday. Um. Chris?”

 “Yeah?” Chris’s thumb strokes his cheek, too gently for an angry naval officer. “Somethin’ you need, before I haul you off to my cabin?”

 “What I said earlier,” Sebastian says, “about being married to you…about us getting married…I mean, this isn’t me asking, it’ll be way more perfect whenever that happens, don’t worry, but…I just wanted to say…yeah. I do think about that. I kind of think about that a lot. I want all the weird random holidays with you. Forever.”

 Chris’s smile’s so wide and bright that it fills up the world, every fantasy and every holiday all rolled into one expression. His hand’s still cupping Sebastian’s face; the other comes to rest on Sebastian’s hip, over the scarf, with something like reverence. He says, “Guess what, Seb.”

 “Something about pirates and being a good…mate?”

 “Well, yeah, obviously that. My mate.” Chris leans in to kiss him; Sebastian’s entire body thrills to the claiming. “But also…we’ve been pretty much thinking the same things, about that. If you were wondering. I want all the weird random holidays and terrible puns and fucking perfect pirate role-play, forever, with you.”

[fixeddawn]

Boy do I love this blog so, so much.

Was there a New Moon in the AU? Or did Bella put a stop to that nonsense immediately.

(Spoilers for the story Clotho (The Moirai Saga) ahead, beware!)

Edward: "Okay so what had happened was-"

-Bella and Alice appear, shoving him out of the way with a squeak-

Alice: "GURL YOU KNOW HE'S STILL AN IDIOT."

Bella: "I- ugh, I tore him a new asshole when he told me he didn't actually love me, and he got me FUCKED up, but he still left. It was rough, especially when my powers started acting up and I started having panic attacks and meltdowns. The wolf pack over here is a bunch of different families, all somewhat Irish, they're descendants of the people of Ossory. Jakes grand-dad immigrated here in the 60's. Actually, OI, JACOB-"

-Jacob shoves into the room, but knocks his head on the doorframe on the way in.-

Jake: "FUCK. Finally man, the Boyz can talk!

Bella: "Eagan (Embry) Got you saying that now too, huh?"

Jake: "Ye, it's funnier. Anyway, shit happened WAY different than in the original plot line. Bella and I still got to be friends, and she hung out with my fam a lot, we have massive bonfires cause my dads the youngest of eight kids.

I helped her find her own place actually! My auntie had a 2 bedroom 2 bath house for rent cheap and she took it on the promise of painting it and shit. Of course then she got mixed up in all of our chaos, especially with the pub my dad runs in town, we got the Blacks, and the O'Clearys and the Udys, three old bloodlines. Bella actually found out about the pack by accident, I uh...I had a massive crush on her and she wasn't ready and stuff got tense and I just...poof, y'know?"

Bella: -makes exploding hand gesture- "Poof."

Jake: "Paul didn't like it at first but she became a member of the pack, we don't really imprint like...romantically, it's super rare, but mostly we imprint familial-y, Bella kept helping Emily cook and clean up and deal with a bunch of rowdy guys. (we got put to work too, don't worry) And she just meshed. She also became our field medic. It got so bad that if we weren't at The Farm, we were probably sprawled out on Bella's living room couch and floor, passed out.

Bella: "It was like snow white and the 7 goofy werewolves, it was great. Leah disliked me at first, but she still went through that thing with Sam, so she was struggling. We actually bonded over the whole "Fuck having a supernatural Ex" thing. Girls gotta support each other, you know? She and Emily also made up with a little time. When I was having my nightmares, facing all the shit that was going down alone and helpless, I told her about them. She's a professional kickboxer! She's fucking badass!! I begged her to train me and kept shoving cash at her until she let me hire her. I was USELESS at first, but she ran me hard, and eventually I could even hold my own in a fight against (human) Seth! All the while, Jake here was finding it hard to keep it in his pants, but he was really my rock, I tried to do everything I could to support him through his change and the aftermath, but it...well. You know who I married. -she cringes, Jake puts an arm around her shoulder for a rough squeeze and a small smile, obviously forgiving-

Jake: My crush was hard man, it still is low-key, (J: 👀 B: 😑) but...well, her panic attacks were still coming. And one night we were dancing, and I...well..."

Bella: "We kissed, I was so desperate to move on, feel something else, but I panicked. It wasn't right."

Jake: "She bolted from the party, ran into the woods, I remember screaming, and then this awful earsplitting sound, and a shockwave.

Bella: "....I kinda, blew down like 30 square feet of the forest around me. Thats when I realized all the popping lightbulbs and shaking surfaces weren't earthquakes...but, well, me. It was the worst panic attack I've ever had. So now, my vampire Bf dumped me, my best friend is a werewolf, and I can fuck shit up with my mind on accident when I'm highly emotional. Queue complete mental breakdown."

Jake: "...Then the redhead showed up."

Bella: "Victoria...she killed my coworker, my friend, horribly, gave him the same injuries James did to send the message. We realized she would start going after the people I was close to if she couldn't get to me. I pretty much hunkered down at The Farm after that, the pack did rounds and tried to protect so much land...I was terrified someone was going to get hurt. When she attacked The Farm, we were blindsided. She caught Seth around his chest and almost crushed him. I was terrified, I managed to use one of my "Bubbles" to blow her away from both of us so I could get him to safety and reset his ribs."

Alice: "And all 𝘐 saw was victoria closing in on Bella from above for a third of a second, when she let out her bubble, so, ofc, I thought she was dead and immediately bolted back to Pullman. Everyone else came too, Carlisle, Esme, Emmett, Jasper... We were so shocked Victoria went after her and 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘴.

"We found out, when we arrived at her apartment and she was still alive and being guarded by werewolves, that it was because my dumbass brother never gave her my goodbye letter, and lied to both sides about his intentions for what happened that day in the woods. He told the family he was going to tell her the truth, that he was going to take himself away from the situation and see if she couldn't move forward, if she couldn't have a human life. Not that he was going to lie to her that he "found out it was infatuation and not love" or whatever the fuck the Drama-King decided made sense. -steps hard on Edward, he squeaks mournfully-

"Emmett and Jazz were about ready to hunt him down for not giving her a way to contact the family, Esme was devastated that Bella thought we'd just abandoned her, Rose was...well, rose, and Carlisle and I were dissapointed, (mine was more on the murder side tho.)

Bella: "We really didn't think it could get much worse, but Edward's creative."

Alice: "Rose calls him to tell him Vicky killed Bella, because EMMETT NEVER FUCKING CALLED HER. Edward flies into a fucking rage tantrum and ofc, goes to italy. When I told her what was happening, Bella was 𝘱𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥, like, walls shaking, lightbulbs popping pissed, and tbh I kinda wanted to see her kick his twink ass."

Bella: "...The emotions were wild. Rage, betrayal, relief, fear, it was such a jumble. When we got there, saved him, and got passed the volturi, we stayed overnight- well, over𝘥𝘢𝘺 in one of the dorm room things. I was still in my funeral dress and nylons and had lost my shoes, so they let me shower and sleep. First however, I laid into Ed. I wasn't going to carry the weight of "if I accidentally die, I'm gonna be the fuckin reason Edward is taken from his family too." Especially not as a Human. I informed him he was going to come home, apologize, take his lumps, and cope. He was a grown ass man and he needed to act like one and clean up the mess he made."

Edward, from the floor, muffled: "Safe to say, I learned my lesson. My self flagellation and pity-party was immature at best, destructive at worst. I apologized to Bella and my family, and did not yet ask for forgiveness, just for the opportunity to prove that I 𝘩𝘢𝘥 learned something from all of this."

Bella: "...We didn't get back together at first. I couldn't trust him, and he obviously did not trust me or my feelings. But I still loved him. When he was there for me and recognized/supported my autonomy, over a little bit of time I was able to trust him again. I think we both grew a LOT during the experience, and while it sucked the whole time, it was also a catalyst for better things to come. Jake was upset, at first, but we had a long and hard talk. Honestly about what I was able to give to a friendship and if it would be enough for him. He eventually decided, that it was. We still bro's. He even made friends with Edward."

Jake: -Grins and steps on Edwards head. Edward growls and rolls over to drag him to the ground. The boys play-wrestle in the background, though it looks less playful than others. Growling, gnashing, and the word 'fuck' is heard often from the fray.-

Alice: "Idiots."

Bella: "The Cullens and the wolves actually bonded as Esme and Sam strategized about the newborn war. We're not "natural enemies" after all, just smelly to alert the other we're in the area. So Jake and the pack and I are still close as ever. "

"Sorry if this was long winded, but it deserved an explanation! I'm gonna go break the boys up now, thanks for your question!"