#the usual “warm up” that i had to fight myself not to render xD

[eurydia]

God's favorite princess wip

[justavengeit]

"You dropped it; finders keepers" IM DEAD XD also I wasn't really looking for a shock moment I mostly just wanted to see bucky's fixation on tony and his way of looking at the world.

Rhodey, outraged, summoning the War Machine armor: i didn’t drop SHIT

Mm! To me it seems like a lot of people really adore that ‘shock and awe’ moment of ‘here it is, this is it, this person is shining and amazing and i have immediately fallen in love and will devote myself from here on out’ - and I love it too, honestly, but I’ve never been able to write it. That’s not how I write attraction and love *shrug* The more I struggled to answer your ask to my satisfaction, the more confused and twisted up i made myself lmao. I really just take Bucky’s fixation on Tony for granted. 

So the thing about Bucky is that despite everything, he stockholmed himself to his captors, even when they brutalized him. That takes a special level of survival drive - a special level of incredible emotional and psychological damage. I rarely bother with writing a Bucky that thinks he ‘can become’ a Real Boy or even wants to become a ‘real boy.’ I’m honestly too convinced of the fact that he’s too damaged to allow that kind of concept to cross his mind out of pure self preservation. He doesn’t get frustrated with himself over his PTSD and breaks from reality because that’s just How Bucky Barnes Functions. That’s just business as usual for him.

He does get frustrated when other people expect him to behave as a standard issue human, though, because why would he? Spring a surprise party on him and almost get shot in the face, and honestly that’s your own fault because what did you think was going to happen, really?? Whereas if Natasha or Tony nearly shoot you in the face over a surprise party, they’ll be embarrassed and give themselves a hard time about it. Instead of, you know, correctly wondering what the fuck people who know you have PTSD and hyper-vigilance issues thought they were doing.

So anyway, Bucky and his weird fixation on Tony. I phrase it this way because in the end, all things end up coming back to Tony with Bucky. He’s more than happy to live out his life in a rural village doing handy work for dinner. Bucky’s motivations mostly revolve around ‘what can I do that will cause the least amount of damage to everyone involved.’ He basically wants to live quietly while helping people, which is something native to his basic personality. 

Prior to Siberia, Bucky would have been willing to fight whatever ‘good fight’ Steve brought to his door if it were necessary (his opinion previous to the bombing was ‘you have a perfectly good team, steve, fuck off’ but then he got backed into a corner and took the best way out of it). Bucky doesn’t want to fight. He’s an incredibly effective weapon. People will die.

Then you bring him into contact with Tony Stark, and whereas before that, Tony Stark is like a talisman against the destruction wrought by the Winter Soldier (kind of a forest fire analogy, and a weird, twisted one, since Tony was never actually in danger from the winter soldier), Bucky basically gets all his Winter Soldier baggage rubbed in his face like a naughty dog. He spent years unable to escape the legacy of Stark Industries no matter where he went, carefully attaching all this baggage to Tony Stark, and now Tony Stark is in his face demanding answers, demanding he take responsibility and quit pretending what happened doesn’t matter.

Bucky would have been weird about any of the survivors of families he’s decimated. The fact that Tony ties in closer to his forgotten past and could-have-been future than the others is only salt on the wound. The fact that Steve and the rest of the team are tied up in knots about Tony Stark only exacerbates the situation. Bucky hasn’t been able to escape the legacy of Tony Stark since he got away from Hydra. He’s like some kind of omnipresent force of nature, like the sun if the sun wanted you to answer to your sins.

HYDRA happened to Bucky. Steve happened to Bucky. But Bucky happened to Tony Stark, and that matters. So.

in the brokemachine verse, Thanos invades before this matter of the pardons could go down, and it was the rogues’ actions during the invasion that creates the opportunity for talk about pardons (services rendered etc etc). Bucky is deeply baffled by the fact that Tony would be working to get the pardons signed when he no longer has use for any of them. T’Challa, due to his obligations towards Bucky and his work with Tony during and in the aftermath of the invasion, orchestrates a situation where both of them can resolve their issues with one another, starting with Bucky asking to be allowed a pardon, and Tony working on that outside of trying to leverage Bucky’s pardon against Steve.

Bucky starts to contemplate the idea of actually resolving his Winter Soldier issues now that Tony’s opened a path to do so, and as Tony is the one that’s orchestrated this opportunity to start making amends, Bucky focuses on Tony. Tony is the injured party, Tony made it possible for Bucky to ‘come home,’ Tony is paying for the therapy and experimental procedures to fix Bucky, Tony is still wandering around with those dark eyes and that clenched jaw, designing up and maintaining a better arm than Bucky’s ever had before. It’s Tony’s ghost telling him he’s still not doing enough, and Tony rejecting his apologies (and why shouldn’t he, it’s not like Bucky can make amends for what he did, he can’t unkill Tony’s parents, undo Steve’s secrets), and Tony who holds Bucky’s fate in the palm of his hand and despite the bitterness and resentment, never curls that hand shut and crushes Bucky the way he should.

Bucky starts to work incredibly hard on resolving/owning the whole Winter Soldier mess (violently destabilizing himself in the process) because he’s trying to measure up to becoming something Tony Stark can approve of - or if not that, at least use. Bucky seeks absolution from Tony because Tony needs him to, and it’s the least Bucky can do for all the expense Tony has put out on maintaining Bucky.

So they have this weird kind of unspoken dialogue, and then in a broke machine, Tony consciously lets go of his anger and resentment, thus releasing Bucky from the burden of absolution, and allowing their relationship to evolve into something new and nurturing. They can start to heal together instead of working at odds to one another.

Well, as much healing as Bucky can do anyway. He has a safe space to figure out what the fuck is going on with his head and what he actually wants from the world at large, now, because Tony was generous before he liked Bucky, and he only all too clearly likes Bucky now, and the idea of someone actually liking Bucky as he is, now, instead of just working with him for someone else’s sake, or because of the man he once was, or because they pity him  - well. No one thinks of a cat as greedy for curling up in a warm spot of sunshine all to themselves, do they?

[rockerchick1330]

~ Flower ~ A Chris Cornell fanfiction (Chapter 7)

Hey hey hunnies! So for this chapter, I decided to take a different approach from Star and switch it for Chris’ POV. It should be a little interesting (since the tone would definitely change) and I would appreciate any feedback. Love you all XOX!!!

PS sorry if it’s kinda short xD

Chris POV

From the moment we staggered into my bedroom, it was obvious Susan hadn’t any intentions to go to patronize Star’s band due to personal purposes.

“Star actually-” “God Chris, forget about that homeless child for once!” She harshly interrupted our once casual conversing. I was attempting to ignore the still prominent excitement that hoisted erect in my pants, but she was making it rather difficult.

Considering her religious movements and the way she violently flung her limbs around, I would occasionally grunt and stifle it in my gullet. Though she basically ranted and rattled on about her career situations and often slandered those not of her compatibility, my mind was distant.

I was completely zoned out, reminiscent on only Starlett. The way she moaned my name and begged and overall squirmed in delight beneath me. She became the pinnacle of my sexual fantasies, her innocent, yet fierce, radiance that hypnotically impressed me. That fear that sparked in her mocha eyes when we were disturbed, the way she lusted for me to finish her off.

Her skin was hot, grazing against mine as I felt how plush and soft her lips were. Gentle, pink, rosy with an angelic theme. So perfect, plump and full. Her curvy, sexy body, naked and sprawled out before me like an ancient artifact, a work of art, of well consumed time to sculpt.

It was a dumb assumption to think that I had not been burdened with any remorse then since I was toiling with it. The scenario of nearing an apologetic love making session with one of my several best friends whom I persuaded into the misconduct.

My long time, loved girlfriend then waltzing onto the scene and degrading the sturdy barrier I had built in conviction to have sex with Star. It all cluttered and harassed me more than one could’ve pondered.

The guilt writhing inside of me especially deliberating on how Starlett felt. I hypothesized her aching remorse, regret and self consciousness sinking its teeth into her. She may have gleamed with confidence when nude and in such a compromising position, but I had enough knowledge of her.

She probably repented in agony. I knew she swore and made an oath to herself that she wouldn’t have permitted herself into adultery unless she was certain of her partner’s love for her. That was completely complexed and different. That was fornication frolicking amongst us in the form of love.

“Chris!” “Y-Yes!” I was startled out of my ensuing mental melee when she sneered at me. “Are you even listening to me?” “Wha-” I slightly shook my head and skeptically retorted. “Y-Yeah, of course baby.” Her vivid scowl contorted and softened into the once gentle beam I fell in love with.

Entwining our fingers, I noticed the subliminal message she was probably channeling to me in disguise. Inspecting my bare ring finger and grinning to herself, I cocked an eyebrow in suspicion. “You know, I was actually thinking-” she began, immediately caving a pit of anxiety into my stomach.

“Since we’ve been together for so long,” she insisted on emphasizing our lengthy relationship. “We should get engaged.” I couldn’t quite conjure words or even comprehend her question.

I began inquiring to myself if she had any doubt about our wilting courtship since it was crumbling before us due to unforeseen circumstances.

I furrowed my brows and frowned, earning similar reactions from her. “Susan, are you okay?” She leaned off of my shoulder, propering her slouched posture and grew highly defensive. “Me? What do you mean?” I cleared the hitched breath out of my throat and mumbled, “Well, things haven’t been going so good in our relationship, now, has it?”

She laced her arms across her chest defensively and spat, “Chris! How can you say that?” “Because it’s true,” I blurted with angst and annoyance. I was irritated and frustrated, it was so obvious to the naked eye that we could’ve no longer tolerated one another.

“You can barely handle me and my band, far much for being our manager, and-” I paused abruptly on realizing that I had nearly confessed my real infuriation with her. She gritted her teeth and hissed, “And what? Tell me!”

“Susan just-” “No!” She began bickering. “It’s about that bitch isn’t it? What’s her name? Star?” I groaned and growled in aggravation, snarling harshly, “Can you just shut the fuck up about that bullshit?” She rolled her eyes and rendered, seeping back onto my shoulder with her arms still cross tightly on her chest.

As much as Susan hasn’t any desire to attend to Rated R’s show, I didn’t have to courage to exclude myself from supporting Star. Especially with the encounter we had that afternoon, it was difficult not to seek her company out again.

I knew the only possible way to escape was by hitching a ride with Andy and Xana at the time they were departing, which was approximately around 6:30. Glimpsing at the dusty analog clock that was nailed onto my wall, with careful calculations, it occurred to me that I had only an hour and perhaps a half to distract Susan.

I opted for a more affectionate, promising diversion.

“Su baby-” I began lowly with my breath hot and fanning against her ear. Seeing goosebumps immediately tear across the surface of her skin and her body tense, I smirked. It shouldn’t have been too challenging.

“I’m sorry, I hate it when we fight.” She shrugged and I placed my lips on her pierced earlobe, kissing it persuasively. “Me too,” she admitted, snapping around to face me with glassy, glistening eyes.

Running my thumb along her rather prominent jawline, I brought my lips to her neck with knowledge of warm kisses there being her kryptonite. “I just want things to work,” she sighed, migrating her hand to my loose, messy hair and combing it through with her dainty fingers.

“It will work out,” I lied, tasting the bitterness of the artificial certainty. “Hopefully,” I added under a heavy breath. “It just gets me so angry!” She argued. “Seeing you so close to Star.” My kisses suddenly weren’t of any use, she grew immune to their hypnotic dosage. “I’m not-” “Yes you are!” She rattled. “Even when I came over, you were in her room!”

I felt my windpipe and throat contract, mentally recalling the string of events that happened while I lingered in Star’s bedroom. “Y-Yes, I needed to, uh-” I began stuttering, tripping over my tongue in hesitation. “To what? Stop stammering,” she persisted eargerly.

“T-To remind her about feeding Squigs!” I exclaimed, referring to our relatively new pet then. She narrowed her eyes at me in suspicion. “Really?” I nodded briskly and swallowed hard, avoiding intimate eye contact. “I think-”

I cut her off sharply, slamming my lips onto hers and saving her opinion on what I might have been doing with Star. “I love you,” I sweetly chimed, grasping her hips and manoeuvering her onto my lap. Violently making out with her, I emitted a strained groan when she directly swayed on my inflated boner.

“You’re excited already?” She questioned rather awkwardly instead of jeeringly. “I’m always excited for you baby,” I fibbed, alluring her into my sinister scheme…

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

“C-Chris, fuck, not a-again,” she panted with her bare chest heaving. “I-I’m tired.”

“C'mon, one more for me babe,” I persuaded, using her ability to consistently climax to my advantage. “I-I can’t,” she vulnerably whimpered beneath my nude figure. “I’ll help,” I suggested, adjusting the angle of her hips and thrusting rapidly.

Hearing her exhausted moans and cries, I expressed no pity or discretion. “Chris! S-Shit!” I groaned throatily, managing to control my urge to moan out. Her nails felt rigid and harsh digging into my flesh, so much more pressure compared to Star’s feeble, yet precious, grip.

She tightened increasingly around me as the frequency of her moans did the same. My intention was to bring enough fatigue over her until she was out cold, sleeping the rest of the evening out. Enough time for me to flee.

Burying myself to the very hilt, I finally grunted and groaned loudly with my calloused fingertips bruising her skin. Releasing my large, seemingly endless load inside of her, I went limp, unable to continue or do any other pushing.

She wheezed, weak and tired, but I wasn’t finished. I had to ensure her slumber was guaranteed.

“Chris, w-wait-” she breathed when I ejected out and went down on her orally. Earning one final orgasm and scream, I used to back of my palm to wide my mouth of her sticky fluids.

She went flushed, pale and fragile. Yawning after a couple minutes of brief silence, she shifted slightly on the mattress. Assisting my blanket onto her and excusing the damp patches that weren’t visible on it, I commended myself mentally for handling the matter properly.

It didn’t take a lengthy amount of time for her to quickly fall asleep, making it quite simple to depart. Assuring her eyelids were heavy with slumber and barely fluttering, I assumed she mentally let her guard down considering how protective she would usually be.

Her eyes would normally battle with sleep to ensure I wasn’t creeping away. That time, with the heated temperature of my biceps caressing her dainty, slim figure, she was certainly too weak to resist the urging sleep. “I-I love you Chris,” she whispered, briefly pecking my sticky cheek.

My jaw immediately clenched at the trembling pang of iniquity that struck me in my stomach. “I love you too babe,” I murmured, permitting her to shift and fix herself into a preferable, fetal position. Her back shimmered with a thin, sheen layer of sweat as it was directly before me then.

Her spine impressing through her fair, flawless skin, rigid and curved gracefully. Hearing a series of soft snores emit from her, I sighed quietly and lowered myself. Pressing a string of hot, fevered kisses on her arched shoulder, she quivered gently.

Though Susan and I may have abused each other verbally and perhaps emotionally on rare, severe occasions, it was difficult to neglect the positive memories we shared.

A fine example of said memories included when Soundgarden had recently been developed, a four piece of mere teenage guys. No mature adult took us or our original music seriously, but Su did. Being with her, not yet labeling ourselves as a definite couple, she considered us her clients. That instance lead to her managing the group.

People often cocked brows due to our age difference, which had I cared less about then. It was only realizing how our years had completely separated and defined us as two, incompatible individuals, I frowned upon the situation.

It hadn’t been the first time Susan played insecure with me, it occurred in the past also. Whether it be a genuine, female highschool colleague or including even strangers I barely associated with. She would flare and anger herself over hallucinative affairs I was encouraging.

I was innocent until Star came along. She was young and so alluring, it was hard to overlook her beauty. Her unique, tan skin, attractive face and body, her youth. That excitement and energy she harvested, Susan lost that a long time ago.

I knew Su probably noticed the scarring track marks that crawled up my arm, disregarding it. It said a lot about her then, if she did sincerely love me, like Starlett, she would’ve been more concerned. But heroin was just a substance I would’ve soon been abusing, something she hadn’t any business in.

Allowing a couple of minutes to tick by for safety, it was only then I carefully climbed off the bed. My weight heaved the mattress slightly, but not nearly enough for her to arouse from her temporary rest. Swiftly staggering around the room, I searched, still naked, for my boxers.

Finding it tousled amongst Susan’s bra and top, I quickly slipped it on, sharply inhaling when I nearly tripped over a loose seam. I decided in the last moment to just dress outside of the room to avoid any clumsy accidents that wouldn’t most likely happened.

I opted to sneak into Star’s room, just to get dressed and scram. Gently shutting the door of Star’s chambers, I trotted into what used to be a guest bedroom, then personalized and embellished by her. Drawings taped onto the peeling walls, a desk crowded with lined pages and art supplies and her clothes draped over the oddest of places.

Dumping my dark blue, unintentionally distressed denim jeans on her still unmade sheets, I grazed my tongue against my teeth with knowledge of exactly what was responsible for the messy bed. Slipping a couple of my silver, chromatic wrist bands on, I groaned lazily when I ignorantly dropped my studded thumb ring.

Kneeling down, I assumed it tumbled beneath the bed. Raising the loose sheets that cascaded, I scanned the dusty floor for a slight glint. “There you are-” I grasped the stray ring, ignoring the random objects scattered alongside it. One particular singular sheet of paper then caught my attention since the ring had dwelled on its surface.

Using my palm, I slid it out from the dark prison, receiving a dull, blurred image of its content at first. Inspecting it in proper lighting, my eyebrows rose and my lips parted. I was rather impressed, astonished by the pencial portrait signed by Star for ownership.

Her signature consisted of a five pointed star, much like an exaggerated ‘A’ which was rumoured to be the first initial of her birth name. What amused me all the more was that the perfectly executed and shaded drawing was of me.

I supposed she used a magazine clipping as reference since I was familiar with the photoshoot I had done with the results being the same. Charcoal defined the wavy curls of my hair and darkened the depths of my nostrils and dilated pupils as regular pencil led finished the rest.

The autographed date she scribbled wasn’t very late, in fact, she probably completed the piece a mere week ago then. If it wasn’t for the last few rays of the afternoon sun drenching into the room and glimpsing against the thin paper, I wouldn’t have interrogated the lengthy note, hand written, at the back.

In her beautiful, cursive writing, so neat and tidy I spend a few seconds contemplating if it was an original font. Even as I read, her small, soothing voice spoke to me as if she was narrating the entry.

Sometimes I wish I hadn’t met him… Sometimes I wish he hadn’t met her…

The very first line of the note caught me on an anticipated hook.

I can’t bare these sleepless nights any longer with knowledge of him making seemingly endless hours of love to her. Those passion driven, lustful words he growled on her naked skin, degraded and shameless.

I was then sitting on the edge of the mattress, discreetly digesting all the things she mentioned.

What does she have that I don’t? I no longer see beauty or grace when I glimpse at myself in the mirror, all I see are the things I lack to impress him. The way he looks at her even though he claims to have ignored their withering, budding love.

Although everyone whispers to me of his reputed, sincere feelings towards a minor like myself, I have waxed my ears seal. I no longer look up at the stormy sky that bellows with thuder and whips with lightening with an ounce of faith. I know now he has sworn to her, an oath that must have been infidelity to break.

He loves her, he passed me over, he underestimated my concern for him. Yet, I squander hours that I shall never compass once gone on sketching out the face of my oblivious lover. I spend my restless nights writing material that he will never consider reading or reflecting on.

I love him, I love him now, I loved him then, I promise to love him forever. Even though he wipes the bitter dirt that lingers beneath his boots onto me and neglects our personal relation, I will never forsake him. I love him, I love you Chris.

There was that undescribable hollow gap in my chest when I finished comprehending her written composition. I swallowed hard on seeing the rather transparent spots that dotted the page, coming to realize they were dried tears. Tears which she cried for me.

Some of which smudged the black ink and made the paper all the more flimsy. Snapping out of my short daze, I wasn’t allowing the note to slip out of my possession, then I knew how she felt about me.

Finishing my dressing routine, I shrugged my leather jacket on, folding the sheet of paper up and shoving it into my pocket. Lacing my boots up, I suddenly felt remorse for even wearing my Doc Martens due to what she quoted in the note.

Trudging out of the room, I winced when Squiggly barked cheerily at me, wavering her hoisted tail. “Shh!” I placed my index finger over my lips and hushed her, briefly patting her fluffly fur. I crookedly smiled at her nearly empty food bowls, realizing that Star had fed her already.

There were a list of reasons why Starlett was such a good friend, whether it be me convincing her to keep the pup or simply her wise counsel, I knew she was always there for me.

Exiting the apartment and quietly shutting the door, I was immensely startled when I heard a familiar voice wail. “Why so sneaky Cornell?” I snapped around to find Andy, leaning courageously against the rather frail banister and smoking a freshly rolled joint. “Susan’s home and she doesn’t wanna go to the show, so I’m hitching a ride with you asshole.”

He chuckled and took a long drag of the blunt, offering it to me, which I no doubt accepted a couple of pulls. “Xana’s getting ready, so we’ll leave in about fifteen minutes,” he announced with great certainty. “Or an hour, it’s Xana and you know chicks, always fussin’ ‘bout their hair or some other unnecessary shit.” We both laughed in unison, flinching when another voice joined in.

“I heard that Andy!” Xana snarled, barging through the front door then. Her pressure nearly destroying the rusty hinges of the door. “B-Baby! You’re ready, let’s roll,” Andy apprehensively snickered, attempted to ignore Xana’s death glare. I contemplated on discussing what happened between Star and I with him, clearing my throat loudly.

“Hey dude, can I talk to 'bout something in the car?” I inquired as we proceeded to the staircase. “Sure, what’s it about?” I stiffened when both Xana and him glanced back at me. I fiddled nervously with the burnt joint, flinging the remaining quarter over the railing and exhaling a plume of smoke.

“Um, I t-think you probably know.” My eyes signalled to him, giving him our usual code. He grinned widely and snorted. “Hmm, Starry eh?” He chortled, winking at an already smirking Xana…